Fool's Gold
♡ Kagaya x Fem!Reader ♡
What happens when the corps doesn't put a demon's pet out of their misery?
CW: Past Sexual Abuse, Mildly Dubious Consent, Power Imbalance, Manipulation, Child Loss, Adultery, Grinding, Vaginal Sex, Creampie
WC: 2.8K
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The scent of wisteria was thick surrounding the Ubuyashiki estate, a marker of safety that you couldn't help but fear was only veneer. Each inhale burned your lungs, each ray of sunshine sent you running for the shadows, but you were still very human. That much you knew.
You had spent years in captivity after initially garnering the attention of an upper rank demon. You were not taken to be a meal, but rather some sort of pet. You were still prey to be pounced on at his discretion, like a naive rabbit that couldn't outrun a fox.
Gyutaro was dead now, but his touch lingered.
In the mornings, you were thankful to be free, spending your time tending to the master himself, Kagaya, as his wife, Amane, tended to their children. As daybreak crept in, so did the intrusive questions laced in silk. By the time Amane returned, you just wanted to scrub your skin free of sin.
Kagaya always made sure to remind you of how lucky you are to be alive, taking your hand in his cold, clammy one and failing to squeeze it. Each time he did this, the seconds he held you in his grasp seemingly increased.
That first time he did this, you had held your breath in shock for only five seconds. Recently, he had worked his way up to eighteen seconds, his fingertips grazing the back of your hand on the twelve second mark.
He never held Amane's hand like that. She always initiated physical touch. Knowing this left you uneasy, but no one said no to the master.
Then nightfall would creep in, and you would shamefully find yourself missing Gyutaro. Sure, he was rather unsightly. But beneath that layer of grime coating his heart was kindness. There was… connection.
“So, you had a child with upper six?” Kagaya's brow line moved, but his expression remained soft. He was like honey added to tea to soothe a sore throat, smooth and sweet.
“Yes,” you admitted, bunching up the fabric of your yukata in your fingers, “I had a son.”
The inner corners of his mouth twitched, a faint quiver of a grin that one would miss if they made the mistake of blinking. “What happened to your son?”
Kagaya had been well aware for years that this phenomenon was possible, albeit rare. Typically, these children were slaughtered, along with their father and occasionally mother. Female demons couldn't conceive as far as the corps was aware, so the father was always a male demon craving flesh in the second most primal way.
Rape wasn't uncommon, but demons keeping a pet was. Most could not control themselves after the initial encounter.
Recently, there were whispers that this happened to a slayer. But Kagaya's intuition told him that she was alive, just in a very unsafe setting. It ate him alive, but he knew these sacrifices were an evil necessity. You can not fight fire with fire, but eventually you could outsmart the flames. Sacrifice was necessary, even if it meant people getting burned.
“Kibutsuji took him.” Your hands trembled on your lap. “He was kind. He said he'd be careful with my son.” You almost sniffled. “He took my hand and promised safety.”
“Evil often lurks behind kindness.” The warmth in his voice went tepid.
“Yeah…” Your hands went limp.
“You're more than an experiment.” His hand found your knee this time, sending a surprised jolt up your spine. Gyutaro had touched you like this many times on starry nights before his interest shifted elsewhere. You knew what it meant, but wanted Kagaya to be different. “However, Kibutsuji does not see you or your late child that way.” He coughed, tasting raw iron in the back of his throat. “Is he conducting any more of these experiments?”
You bit your lip and looked away. Speaking felt like treason. The way his hand trailed higher felt like betrayal.
Shaking your head, your voice wavered. “Upper One, he has a demon slayer girl.” You had only met her once to help her get over the insanity of eating human flesh during pregnancy. The two of you bonding over jealousy for Upper Two's “wife”, as her daughter was completely human. Her daughter was alive. “Upper Two has a wife.”
“A wife?” he repeated, not in disbelief, but he was perplexed nonetheless.
“He claims to love her. My Gyu- I mean, Gyutaro…” Shame nibbled at the back of your throat as bile. Gyutaro was a rapist. Your rapist. So then why were you still so attached? “He… he said it's a load of shit.”
Gentle laughter rocked Kagaya's frail body and he squeezed your thigh. “He sounds like quite the character.”
“He was.” You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you had been holding.
“And as for upper one's pet?”
The way he grabbed your thigh made your head spin. You were m- No, he was married.
“He considers her to be his wife as well.” A luxury you were never afforded.
After the death of your son, Gyutaro's eyes wandered. Eventually, he found it more fun to toy with the wife of a hashira, although you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at her. It wasn't her fault you had grown attached. It wasn't her fault he took her.
But it was her fault that you were alive.
Her husband could not bring himself to kill a woman for the same “crime” his own wife had committed. The water, love, and surprisingly wind hashira also agreed with his sentiment, sparing your life.
You were then sent to stay with the insect Hashisa for recovery. Shinobu was not hostile, but she did wear her pity on her sleeve. She thought you were better off dead, which somehow stung more than the past. So you were later sent to tend to Kagaya personally as a thank you.
This was not without ulterior motives, however. He wanted to extract knowledge from you, and along the way grew attached.
With his illness progressing, Amane took an unprecedented leadership role. Before, she had quietly whispered advice to her husband. And now the roles have completely reversed. This only increased overtime, much to Kagaya's disdain. Especially when you came into his life.
You were a traumatized thing, which he didn't mind; virtually all of his children were. Typically, he would encourage someone in your state to join the corps. But selfishly, he couldn't let you go. He wanted you tucked away safely in his estate. You were a spark of joy in his otherwise melancholic life.
“It would seem demons are far more civilized than they let on.” Another coughing fit passed.
“Yes...” You nodded. “I even heard whispers of government involvement.”
“Fascinating.” Weakly, he forced himself to sit up, pressing his palms to his futon to prop himself up. His chest heaved with every small wheeze that left his chapped lips. “The government plays both sides it would seem.”
You weren't surprised that the government looked the other way to both demons and the corps. Money talks.
“It would seem so.” Your exhale was subdued. You missed his touch. It made you feel special for reasons you couldn't quite place.
“Are you willing to share anything else today?” His face was turned in your direction, expression remaining soft. He was always gentle with you, coaxing out information that you had once sworn to secrecy with ease.
You could only shake your head. The longer you dragged this out for, the longer you could prolong goodbye.
“No sir,” you managed to choke out before licking your suddenly dry lips, “Am I dismissed?”
“You're always welcome to share your time with me.” Clumsily, his hand clasped around yours. Heat pooled beneath your cheeks as the cadence of his voice dropped ever so slightly. “What we do together is your choice.”
Kagaya knew this was wrong; you were a hurt soul, and he was taking advantage of your pain. He knew very well that hormones had taken over your senses as a trauma response. That had been painfully obvious from the moment Shinobu reported catching you with a kakushi and a kanoe in a storage room. And yet, he couldn't help himself.
Not to mention his marriage. Betraying Amane was the absolute worst thing he could possibly do; the woman was sent from above.
Still, he was a man and that meant he had needs.
You couldn't help yourself, and he was counting on it. “Would you like me to stay?” Air was caught in your throat, hesitation boiling within the sinew of every muscle in your body. Slowly, your hand met with his inner arm, massaging it gently over layers of clothing. “Master?”
A small chuckle spilled out. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, cool and soft to the touch. With the pad of his thumb, he traced over your bottom lip as if he were memorizing how you felt.
“Can you keep a secret?” he whispered, his smile widening as you took his thumb into your mouth, “I'll take that as a yes.”
“Yes, master.” A craving for his validation gnawed at you even though deep down, you didn't even want him. Your desire was surface level at best. A fluke.
This was self harm, and it was exhilarating.
“You do understand that I am much more frail than your previous sexual partners right?” He felt your head bounce up and down. “Good. Then you understand that you are really the one in control then?”
You weren't, but he was damn good at convincing you otherwise.
“Yes, master.”
Kagaya was a master manipulator, a fact he was not too privy about. Despite this, he weaponized the emotions of his supposed children often, finding immense satisfaction in the despicable quality he possessed as soon as your lips pressed to his. It felt far more cathartic than when an orphan dies in final selection for the greater good.
It was almost laughable how the corps held him in such high regard when he was no better than the common man, choosing to spend more and more time with the poor demon's pet. He allowed others to think of him as charitable, and maybe he was, when what he truly desired was knowing what about you made demons tick.
And between his illness and Amane's newfound livelihood, the man was lonely. You were kind a soul, but far too eager to please. This was a fact he was well aware of and exploited. Humans didn't typically survive demons very long without capturing their fleeting interest somehow.
As you climbed onto his lap to straddle him, it was painfully obvious how you kept your captor happy. “Will your wife know?” you mumbled into the kiss.
“She already does.” Kagaya tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
“Huh?” You leaned back, nearly losing your balance. Anchoring your arms around his neck for safety.
Lying to Amane was impossible. If there was any shift in the air, she could just sense it. So she took Kagaya's confession with grace, not allowing her cool, demure demeanor to slip until nightfall, where she silently sobbed into her pillow.
Saying no to Kagaya was simply not an option.
“She gave her blessing.” Her consent was really coercion wrapped in a ribbon made of silk. Unwavering loyalty that knew no bounds was almost extended equally.
Almost.
“Why me?” Your shoulders tensed, barely shimmying away.
He answered with a kiss, disorienting your senses. His lips were cold against yours, impossibly pale in the moonlight but drawing you in with charm and charisma that a man with ill should not possess. The hint of death made you want to pull away, but the taste of medical herbs kept you in place.
Kagaya was mostly like honey. Sweet and healing. But beneath the surface of saccharine glaze was poison, and you couldn't live without a taste of it. Questionable morals were suddenly secondary.
Subconsciously, your hand drifted below his slender waist. It was different from what you knew in captivity, but still an illusion of choice. Technically, you could leave at any moment, but you had been trained to fawn, to submit. He knew this, and he took advantage of it.
Amane wouldn't help.
Shinobu couldn't help.
And you didn't know how to help yourself. Your pain was too fresh.
Too… raw.
Blindly, your palm found his semi-hard erection. Typically, Amane changed his clothing, so you hadn't been aware that he could even maintain one at all. Perhaps he did when they were first wed, but certainly not now. It almost made you prideful.
“You're a rather bold woman.” His lips brushed over your pulse, sending shockwaves down your spine. “I've never met a woman quite like you before.”
“I- um.” You went to pull your hand away, but he held it in place. His grip around your wrist was basically limp, but his power was unbreakable. His mysterious aura had enchanted you, seduced you.
“I don't mind at all.” White eyelashes fluttered shut as he erupted with a quaint chuckle. Any harder, and you swore his diaphragm would stutter and lead him straight into an acute coughing fit. “But since you're so bold and given my condition, it would be optimal for you to undress us.”
“Yes,” you squeaked, immediately moving to unravel layers of clothing, “As you wish.”
“Such a good girl,” he praised as you slid off his haori.
Blood flooded your t-zone, singing your skin. Your heart thundered in your chest to the point it nearly hurt. Rhythmic drumming kept the tempo of your trembling hands as you greedily — albeit nervously — tore off garment after garment until you were both completely undressed and vulnerable.
“Thank you.” A thick lump had formed in your throat but you quickly swallowed it down, along with your pride.
With both hands, he gingerly grabbed your face, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he studied your facial structure. “Such a pretty thing you are.”
He had long since forgotten Amane's immature, teenaged features, and seldomly reached out for the womanly one she had grown into. They were close, almost like platonic soulmates: bound together by something deeper than duty, but not quite a burning romance.
You were fleeting, but his desire for you burned strong. If you couldn't fight, he'd give you purpose in a more traditional manner. After all, strategists did have needs.
Carefully, you crawled onto his lap, seating yourself on his leaking, long neglected cock. You didn't spear yourself on the appendage — assuming he was far too sick the consummate with unholy union — but you grinded against him, the heat becoming one through unconventional means.
Your hovering hips danced in an erotic circle, rubbing his hardened member between shamelessfully slick folds. His tip was soaked in eager precum, grinding the juices into your clit. Soft whimpers vibrated from your lips as your greedy pussy clenched around nothing, begging to be filled by his modest proportions.
You clung to his shoulders, palms fixed tight on his protruding collar bones. “Should I… Can I put it in?”
He looked so beautiful with his dark, slightly disheveled locks. Lilac irises filled with joy, showing expression in a way they hadn't since losing his vision. His chest was heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His skin was smooth to the touch, almost milky in the moonlight. He was practically a prince, and you were his open secret.
Hair rustled over his shoulders as his head slowly swayed side to side. “I'm not sure you can handle another loss.” The faint grin on his face wavered for half a moment. “My bloodline is cursed.”
You thought about it for a moment as the sway of your hips came to a halt. Your mental health was already beyond repair, so you rasped into his ear, “Please, Master.”
He had a reputation to uphold, so it was unlikely he would claim the child as his. Avoiding legitimacy might mean avoiding the birthright of the family curse. Besides, pregnancy wasn't even a guarantee, nor was the aforementioned child's sex.
Arousal didn't let his guard down. In fact, he had counted on this. “As you wish.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, you pressed the tip to your entrance, slowly sinking down on it. You lose your breath in your throat from the stretch, realizing there was no going back as you become instantly addicted to the rush of dopamine that came from washing away Gyutaro's touch with his. It was almost instinctive for you to trade a demon for a sleazy man as if there was much difference at all. The only true difference was the illusion of choice.
Each bounce, plunging him deeper and deeper into your velvety walls, only cemented what you already knew: whenever he was well enough, this would now be your duty. Amane was far too ladylike to resort to tasks beneath her station, and you were nothing more than a repurposed pet.
Prematurely, he spilled his seed into you like a used napkin, sealing your sordid fate.
He didn't save you, he only pretended to.
And now you served a new master.













