Although you began liking him first, the realisation that he liked you too hit him harder than being tossed across the forest by a demon. It felt a little scary at first how he kept getting distracted by you and his thoughts kept revolving around you, so much to the point he had to confess or else he felt like he is about to explode from keeping all his feelings to himself.

Kyojuro never realised you actually loved him first, but is incredibly thankful nonetheless that you do anyway. After you randomly mentioned to him once, he was actually really flabbergasted and incredibly honoured.

—

Gyomei Himejima // Stone Hashira.

He fell first, you fell harder.

Gyomei felt guilty for developing feelings for you. He was sure you had no interest in being with someone that is doing the same work you do and all the heavy baggage that comes with it: going out during odd hours, the pain and injuries, the worrying about if the other is going to come back alive or the death announcement being delivered over a crow— he was sure you wanted a little bit of normalcy in your life, so he avoided the thoughts that seemed to circle you lately.

You fell much harder than he did. You couldn’t stop blushing around him to the point that even Gyomei could feel the heat radiating off your body and checking if you have a fever by touching your forehead, making you heat up even more. You can’t help but really begin to love the hunk of a man that is a walking green flag. You couldn’t help but confess to him one day and hope for the best.

Gyomei can’t help but smile every time you mention your early feelings for him. He feels silly for being hesitant about his feelings for you whenever you talk about how your feelings were gnawing at your brain until you finally confessed. It’s adorable, he thinks.

—

Giyuu Tomioka // Water hashira.

He fell first, he fell harder, he almost died while confessing.

Giyuu melted everytime he saw you. On the inside, that is. On the outside, Giyuu only eyed you occasionally and tried to keep his, what he thought to be a small crush at first, at bay and as secretive as possible. This is only temporary and his feelings will pass soon. But for now, he will mentally berate you for your choice in unhealthy foods and stare at the ceiling at night, wondering if you are safe and sound right now.

This “little crush” of his began to get a little out of hand. Giyuu could tell that his feelings were getting a little out of hand as he kept loosing focus and getting beat and kicked to the ground by the other hashira, mostly Sanemi for some reason, during training and rolling over in bed over and over while loosing sleep over if you are still alive. He began to fantasise about being in a relationship with you every now and then, only to become depressed afterwards about how impossible and unreachable that fantasy is.

Giyuu knows confessing to you was one of the best things he ever did, you falling in love with him as well was so surprising to him, he almost thought he was being manipulated by a demon or you were a skinwalker of sorts. But now that he has you secure in his arms as he admires your sleeping face, he realises that yes, this is real and that you’re not going anywhere.

—

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

I finally know what colour to paint my nails in my Douma cosplay after the trailer dropped— AND I can finally colour in my fans the way he had it in the trailer too UGHHH the trailer took me outtttt

Also why is the first pic in Kyo’s banner so delicious

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 Your back slammed into a tree trunk, bark digging into your skin as Rengoku’s burning gaze locked on yours. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease before slamming inside you with a force that left you gasping. “Beautiful... You’re taking me so well.” he roared, each thrust deep and fiery.

The warmth of his body consumed you, sweat dripping down his temple as he buried his face into your neck, groaning your name. His pace was wild, almost desperate, like he was chasing the flames themselves, needing to leave his heat inside you.

You clawed at his shoulders, whimpering as he praised every reaction, every squeeze, every cry. His last thrusts were brutal, claiming you completely as he panted against your lips: “You’re mine.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈 Tengen had you bent over the edge of a rooftop, the lantern light of the city flickering below. “Now this,” he drawled, his voice dripping with cocky satisfaction, “is what you call flamboyant.”

Each thrust made your body jolt, your moans dangerously close to being overheard. His jeweled hands wrapped around your waist, nails digging into your skin as he pulled you back onto him. “Louder,” he commanded, smirking when you bit your lip.

“Don’t hold back—let them all know who’s fucking you.” His pace was unrelenting, brutal, almost showy in its rhythm. The thrill of being seen only made him harder, his breath hot on your ear as he growled, “You’re perfect like this, my extravagant little prize.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈 Mitsuri couldn’t stop gushing—both with words and with need. She dragged you into a quiet shrine, tugging your robes down with trembling hands. “You’re so pretty, I could eat you alive!” she whined, her mouth finding your neck as her hips pressed frantically against yours. When she shoved you back onto the floor and settled between your legs, her gasp was needy, almost a sob, as she buried her face against your wetness.

“Ahhh—you taste so good, I love it, I love it!” she moaned, tongue lapping eagerly while her fingers curled deep inside you. Her hips rocked against the floor as if she could fuck herself on nothing, whining louder with every cry you made. She clung to your thighs like she’d never let go, every wet suck and sloppy kiss paired with praise until you could hardly breathe.

When your orgasm hit, she moaned with you, drinking it all in before pulling up to kiss you messily, whispering, “Please, let me have more—I want all of you so badly.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎 Muichiro was eerily calm as he pressed you against the training room wall. His blank teal eyes never left yours, as though he wanted to watch every flicker of expression. His thrusts were steady, deep, dragging slow moans out of you until you had to cover your mouth.

“Don’t,” he murmured flatly, removing your hand from your lips. “I want to hear you.” His fingers slipped around your throat, not squeezing, just holding—reminding you he was in control. Each roll of his hips had you shaking, your legs trembling around his waist as he tilted his head, studying you like an art piece.

“You feel… good,” he admitted softly, voice detached, almost dreamy. “Like a haze I don’t want to clear.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 Obanai dragged you into the shadows of the barracks, his mismatched eyes glinting with hunger. His scarf was shoved down just enough to bare his lips as he kissed you hard, biting until you whimpered. “No one else gets to touch you,” he hissed, his grip bruising on your hips as he slammed into you. His thrusts were rough, punishing, almost punishingly deep.

The sensation of his body coiling around yours, his hands tightening on your throat, left you dizzy with need. He marked your skin with sharp bites, each one a warning, each one a claim. “Mine,” he growled, his voice hoarse, “mine forever.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 Sanemi didn’t care that you were half-undressed in the middle of a training field. He had shoved you over the railing, yanking your hair back as he rammed into you. “You love this, don’t you? Filthy girl,” he snarled, teeth gritted as he used you with brutal force.

Every thrust made the railing creak, every curse spilling from his lips like a storm. Your cries only egged him on, his hand smacking your ass hard enough to sting.

“Say it—say you’re my slut,” he demanded, growling when you obeyed. He leaned over you, panting against your ear, his pace violent, merciless, until you were a trembling mess. “That’s right… only for me.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 Gyomei’s massive hands cradled your body as though you were glass, even as his hips drove forward with overwhelming power. The quiet temple echoed with your gasps, your body dwarfed beneath his towering frame. “Forgive me,” he whispered, voice trembling, “but I cannot hold back when it comes to you.”

His thrusts were deep, deliberate, each one pulling cries from your throat. The rosary beads in his hand clinked with every movement, his forehead pressed to yours as he panted.

“You are divine,”

he groaned, his voice breaking, “and I… am lost in you.” Every motion was reverent, worshipful, but still relentless, his strength unyielding as he made you shudder beneath his devotion.

— 𝐬𝐨𝟔𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞 2025: do not republish or copy any of my works. 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 are open < request here >

Rengoku Kyojuro

Your heart almost beats out of your chest, the tray you’re carrying slightly trembling in sheer excitement.

You hate acting like a little teenage girl whenever he’s around. But since you were called in by Shinobu a few weeks ago and saw him again, you were stunned.

How is it even possible to fall for a man you barely know, a man who probably doesn’t even know a man? After all, you’re a no one compared to him. A demon slayer too weak to really fight, but skilled with medicine and herbs. If it wasn’t for Shinobu, you’d probably be dead already.

And him? He’s a hashira, the flame pillar, to be exact.

Your worlds couldn’t be any further apart. And yet, you find yourself swaying back and forth, your heart pounding against your ribcage by the prospect of seeing him again.

Shinobu ordered you to change his bandages and check on his wounds for possible infections. When he came in from his fight with the upper moon three, you were almost certain that he won’t make it. Day and night, you cared for his multiple gaping wounds, watched his heartbeat and vital status, stood up every hour of the day for his injection.

And he really made it. Thank heavens, that man was strong enough to really made it.

“If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead by now! I owe you my life!”

His kind words repeat themselves over and over in your head. Even though you know it’s ridiculous, that it’s impossible, that this man will never catch feelings for someone like you.

But you’re allowed to dream a little, right?

You knock on the door timidly.

“It’s me. I’m here for your bandage change and your meal,” you call through the closed door before opening it.

And getting greeted by his beaming eyes all over again.

“What a pleasant surprise! You always brighten my day with your presence!”

You can’t hide the little blush creeping up your face while you smile shyly at him, dropping your gaze as soon as you start to burn alive.

“Oh, (y/n)! I was hoping to meet you here! May I ask you to help me out?”

“Shinobu-san…Of course!” you stumble, swiftly placing your tray on a table nearby.

Why is Shinobu here? After Rengoku’s status was stabilized, she left him in your care exclusively. Is something wrong? Did he show any critical signs?

“Don’t worry, I’m only here because Rengoku-san generously allowed me to test a stimulant I’ve been working on for quite some time now.”

“A new stimulant?” you repeat, interest clearly peaking.

“As you know, Rengoku-san sustained damage to his nervous system, specifically sensory loss, nerve pain and extreme fatigue from time to time. In order to not only treat the symptoms but the cause, I created a   stimulant out of wisteria and rare mountain herbs in hopes to accelerate nerve signal repair, increase his energy for recovery and help bringing back his full mental clarity in days rather than another few weeks,” she explains patiently, preparing the injection with skilled hands.

You can’t help but admire her. The amount of work she puts in creating antidots, stimulants, medicine and so much more is truly inspiring. How glad you are to call yourself her tsugoko.

“That sounds promising,” you reply with glooming eyes.

“It does, but apart from animal testing, I didn’t get the chance to examine it properly yet. I would never ask a patient to function as a test person, of course. But Rengoku-san insisted on trying it himself.”

“I know I can trust you. After all, you are very skilled within the medical field!” Rengoku interjects while watching the first shot entering his arm.

“Don’t flatter me, Rengoku-san! I actually learned a lot from (y/n)!”

“F…From me?” you mumble, face instantly growing hot.

“Of course! Your knowledge within the medical field is truly remarkable! I wish I knew as much as you do about herbs and medicine!”

“Shinobu-san, please! I…I don’t deserve your praise.”

“But you are great, (y/n)!” Rengoku beams directly towards you.

Your heart skips a beat, palms so sweaty that you automatically wipe them off your coat awkwardly. Does he really…Mean that? Rengoku doesn’t seem like a person who lies, especially not straight into your face. To be exact, he has to be the most decent and honest person you’ve ever met. So kind-hearted, so straightforward, so positive. Oh, you truly don’t deserve his praise-

“SHINOBU-SAN!”

It all happens faster than you’re able to comprehend. Aoi storms through the door without knocking, her uniform covered in dirt and fresh blood. Almost instantly, all color drains from your face. Something bad must have happened. Again severely hurt demon slayers?

“Tanjuro, Zenitsu, Inosuke and the sound hashira just came in – barely alive, the sound hashira misses his arm-“

Shinobu listens closely, so closely that she doesn’t realize the injection she put in Rengoku’s arm is already empty by now.

“I’m on my way. (y/n), please stay here with Rengoku-san look after his vital status. Please note any side effects the simulant might have. I’ll call after you if I need your help.”

And with that, the insect pillar is gone, leaving you alone with shaky fingers next to Rengoku.

What happened? You’ve heard that they left for a mission along with the sound hashira, that they actually encountered a high-ranked demon and that the snake pillar was sent after them. Tanjiro…He can’t die, he simply can’t. After all the things he’s been through, all the wounds you tend when he was in your care-

 You shake your head.

No. This is not the time to think about things like this. Shinobu told you to look after Rengoku, this is your job now. You can go and look after Tanjiro and the others when you have the time for it.

“How are you feeling, Rengoku-san?”

“I’m feeling…strange,” he replies with unusual low voice.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes scanning his skin and then the empty injection on the table.

The.empty.injection.

Your eyes grow wider and wider each passing second. Didn’t Shinobu-san say that she wants to test the injection step-by-step? She must’ve been so focused on Aoi and the others that she forgot to stop and wait.

Out of instinct, you spring up from your chair in sheer horror. Oh no. This might be bad. Really really bad.

“Rengoku-san! Are you…are you feeling strange in terms of bad?” you ask, your hands already on their way to work on your own.

Gently, you feel his forehead, his skin so burning hot that you flinch.

 “Your skin is on fire! Are you in pain? Dizzy? Nauseous?”

“I… feel alive.” His voice is hoarse,  not in pain, not in weakness, but like it’s holding something back. You glance at him. He’s not hunched over or trembling, like a normal side-effect patient. No, Rengoku is sitting tall and straight, his muscles tense beneath the loose yukata, his eyes boring into you like you’re made of gold.

“You feel… alive?” you repeat, carefully noting it in your log.

Elevated body temperature. Confusion? Mood shift?

“I feel like I could lift a mountain. Run through an inferno. Shout your name from the top of Mt. Fuji.”

You blink.

“…Okay, slight delusions,” you whisper to yourself, jotting that down.

He shifts. The fabric of his yukata falls slightly from his shoulder, exposing more skin than it should, and you instantly avert your eyes.

“I’m so warm… but it’s not unpleasant,” he says slowly.

“It’s like… being wrapped in sunlight. Like standing beside you.”

You pause.

“Is it…could it be fever-induced hallucination?” you murmur, genuinely concerned now, hand reaching up to feel his forehead again.

But this time, he suddenly grabs your wrist and pushes you towards him. Firm. Steady. Very real. Very not hallucinating.

“Your hands are divine,” he breathes.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re focused?”

Your brain stalls.

“I…what?”

“I’ve been trying to be patient. Respectful. But this medicine, this miracle, it’s like it cleared the fog in my mind. I see you now. No…no, I’ve always seen you. I just never had the courage to go any further.”

You stare at him, still frozen. Is this a… symptom? Is he hallucinating you as someone else? No, you don’t allow yourself to even think about the opportunity that these are his real thoughts, that this is how someone like Rengoku Kyojuro feels about you-

“Rengoku-san, can you tell me your name? Just to make sure-”

“Kyojuro. Call me Kyojuro. Please, (y/n). Say it again. Say my name while looking at me.”

You pull your hand back slowly, still kept firmly in his strong arms. It takes all your strength to not let you fall into his tender touch, to not use this state of confusion for your own advantage.

“S-So, euphoria… that’s… interesting,” you whisper, writing it down with trembling fingers. “Cognitive function seems intact but slightly impaired-”

“I would go to war for you,” he mumbles.

You stop writing.

“I’d slay a thousand demons with my bare hands if it meant you’d smile at me for half a second.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Still not accepting the possibly that he really means what he just told you.

“…W-What?”

“Let me court you.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Your brain is buffering.

“W-What did you just-?”

He’s suddenly close. Too close. One moment he’s sitting upright; the next he’s leaned toward you, golden eyes burning with emotion and something else, something more primal, something you’re only read about late at night.

“I want to hold your hand in public. I want to braid your hair - do you like hair braids? I can learn. I’ll fight my way through the seven layers of hell to make you breakfast. I want to share a bed with you, want to wake up to you in the morning and fall asleep next to you at night. Please, just let me.”

“WAIT…STOP!”

You slap your notebook shut and stare at him in horrified realization. You cannot ignore it any longer. Truth is, you know those symptoms even though you’ve never experienced them in connection with yourself before.

“Oh my god. You’re horny.”

He blinks at you. “Yes.”

“Shinobu injected you with a concentrated aphrodisiac stimulant?!”

“It feels like every cell in my body is worshiping the ground you walk on. Is that what love is?” he gasps, clutching his chest.

You scramble to your feet – or at least you try with his hands firmly holding you in place on his lap.

“I-I have to go! I need to tell Shinobu!”

Is that…Something hard underneath you? You take a deep breath, desperately try to keep yourself form drowning in madness.

Wouldn’t it be way easier to just give in? Isn’t this what you dreamed about, to be his, to have his eyes only for yourself? Maybe this is the chance, maybe the only one you’ll ever get to be this close to him-

No. You vehemently shake your head and rip yourself out of his grasp before you go insane as well, stumbling backwards.

“WAIT (y/n)! DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH MY FEELINGS-!”

You hear a thud behind you as he tries to get up and immediately collapses from overstimulation. Groaning.

“THE FLOOR IS COLD… BUT YOUR TOUCH WAS WARM…”

You sprint down the hallway like your life depends on it, yelling at the top of your lungs:

“AOI! SHINOBU-SAN! RENGOKU IS TRYING TO PROPOSE TO ME THROUGH FEVER DREAMS AND I THINK HE’S ABOUT TO START WEEPING INTO THE FLOORBOARDS!”

From behind the sliding door, you faintly hear:

“…I would name our children after all the flowers you like!”

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Just one look at him is enough to send you over the edge. That guy with his hot head, chickpea brain and muscles made of steel. What you hate most about Sanemi Shinazugawa?

That you never seem to reach him.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how rough you train. He is always one step ahead, always that inch better that decides the fight. And he doesn’t even try to hide his amusement about it.

“Lost. Again,” he comments dryly, his puffed chest an insult itself.

You drag yourself out of the dirt, huffing loudly. That fucking bastard.

“There was no need to push my face into the mud, you little shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Oh, you’re so over this. His constant teasing, his unbelievable behaviour. Who on earth raised this dickhead?

“Please, stop fighting you two! Why can’t we all just get along and laugh a little more?” Mitsuri cries out next to you.

No. You can’t take it anymore, not even for Mitsuri. But…you let out your breath, try to calm down your beating heart. You don’t want to start a fight in her garden either, not when you know how much time she spends trimming the bushes.

“Fuck you, Shinazugawa,” you mumble before turning on your heel and stomping inside.

Honestly, as long as you don’t have to see that shitty grin, you’ll be fine. You slam the door shut behind you, allow your eyes to rest a little. You know he doesn’t deserve your anger, that he would stop teasing you if you’d stop reacting this way. But somehow, you can’t help it. Something about him triggers a part inside you that usually stays put.

There has to be a way to finally beat him, at least once in order to shut his filthy mouth. But how? How on earth are you supposed to surpass him when he trains just as much as you do? How?

Your eyes dart around the room with no real aim. Where are you, exactly? Mitsuri’s katana lays on display on a shelf, next to it a strange pink-colored potion.

You furrow your eyebrows, instantly drawing closer. Is this what she talked about with Shinobu? The powder she’s supposed to smear all over the blade of her katana in order to poison her opponents? No, Shinobu didn’t exactly state “poison”

“It will incapacitate your opponents in your unique way!”

  Incapacitate.

Your eyes grow wider and wider.

Incapacitate…

You don’t waste another second. Maybe this is what you need to beat him. A small potion can’t hurt, right? He’s definitely been through worse. You shake a small amount into your hand and close it before heading back out.

“Huh, look who’s there! Done with your pity party, loser?”

“Fight me.”

He tilts his head ever so slightly, just in the way that almost makes you lose your cool. But you’ll have the upper hand now – even though only with a little bit of help.

Sanemi darts towards you without asking another question, aiming directly for your chest. He’s fast, ridiculously fast, and already halfway to slamming you into the dirt again when you throw your hand up.

POOF.

A pink cloud of shimmering powder bursts right into his face.

“What the fu…What the hell did you just-”

He stumbles back, waving his hand while coughing out loud. And you? You grin like a demon.

“Got you, bastard.”

“(Y/N)!!” Mitsuri’s voice shrieks so high-pitched it almost cracks the air just when you’re about to place your final hit.

You blink at her, smug expression faltering at her suddenly so serious tone.

“What?”

Her hands fly to her mouth.

“YOU DIDN’T JUST USE THAT PINK POWDER ON HIM?!”

You look down at your now-empty palm.

“Um. Yes?”

“That’s the experimental blend Shinobu gave me to test!! It’s not a paralytic - it’s a potent aphrodisiac! In small doses!”

You freeze mid-air.

“…What?”

Your widened eyes dart over to Sanemi, who’s rubbing his eyes, blinking rapidly. His face is already turning red - and this time not from anger. No, you’re immediately able to tell the difference.

Mitsuri is scrambling for her haori, already halfway to the gate.

“I’M GETTING SHINOBU! YOU NEED PROFESSIONAL HELP AND I DON’T WANNA DIE HERE!!!”

“Mitsuri-?!”

Too late. She’s gone, her pink curls disappearing into the wind.

You turn back to Sanemi…who’s standing there, chest heaving, flushed all the way to his neck, and looking at you like you just grew three heads. Or possibly like he wants to eat you.

“What the fuck… did you do to me?”

His voice is a low growl now, thick and rough. You take a few steps back out of instinct. Fuck, this is bad. Really really bad. Why on earth does she have something like this just randomly standing on her nightstand!?

“I…I didn’t know it was an aphro-!”

You don’t even see him move. Suddenly, he’s in front of you, next to you, everywhere you look.  Before you know how to think your back slams against the nearest tree, bark digging into your shoulder blades. His hand lands hard on the trunk beside your head, and he leans in, breath hot against your cheek.

“You trying to mess with me?” he growls.

“You think this is funny?”

You gulp. Shit, this went lengths too far even for your taste.

“N-No! I swear, I thought it was poison…I mean - harmless poison!”

His other hand grabs your jaw - not rough, not painful, but firm. His thumb brushes along your cheek. His pupils are blown wide now, sharp jade eyes nearly swallowed in black.

“Why the hell is it you that I can’t get outta my head right now? Why do you smell so damn good?”

Your mouth opens, but nothing except a silent whimper comes out.

“I’m gonna regret this,” he mutters, and then his lips crash against yours.

It’s messy. Uncoordinated. All teeth and desperation, like he’s trying to burn the fire out of his bloodstream with your mouth. His body cages you in, solid muscle pressing you against the bark, and one of his hands curls into your hair like he needs something to hold on to before he breaks.

And you? Your brain has left the chat. Your hand clutches the front of his uniform. And you fucking kiss him back out of instinct.

“I hate this,” he groans against your lips.

“Hate you. Hate how you make me feel like I’m gonna lose control. Hate that I’m hard and it’s your damn fault-”

“S-Sanemi!”

“Say my name like that again and I’m gonna ruin both of us.”

His rough hands find the back of your knees. He yanks you into the air like you weigh nothing, presses you firmly against the cool tree.

You can’t catch your breath, don’t even want to. Is this…what you felt for him all this time? Not hatred, but desperation? It definitely feels that way, it definitely feels way too god to be true-

“And then she just threw the powder in his face and I literally had NO time to react. Can you imagine!?”

“Mitsuri, stand still and be quiet.”

“BUT SHINOBU-“

The insect pillar stops Mitsuri in her tracks, pointing towards you.

And Sanemi.

Intertwined.

Pressed against each other on a tree.

“Oh my!” Mitsuri shrieks in utter excitement.

“Let’s just get out of here and wait until Sanemi took care of the potion a natural way,” Shinobu chuckles before turning on her heels and literally dragging the love hashira behind her.

Tomioka Giyu

You hear them shouting from afar – again. Instinctively, you pick up your pace, rolling your eyes in sheer frustration. Why is it so hard for both of them to just live peacefully while knowing that the other exists? Aren’t both of them hashiras, working towards the same goal?

Apparently, Sanemi and Giyu didn’t catch that mission yet.

“Can you guys just act like boys your age? Or at least a little grown up?” you shout over the noise of swords clashing.

Your heart skips a beat even though you try to supress your hard feelings. Giyu’s looking well today, his hair a little messy from the fight, face covered in a thin layer of dirt while his eyes hush over you ever so slightly.

“(y/n)-AH!”

A second too long, apparently.

“Ha, that’s what you get for losing your focus, fool!”

Like in slow motion, Giyu collapses onto the floor, his cheek pierced open by Sanemi’s blade. You run towards him immediately, checking on him. He’s unconscious, a small cut now disturbing his otherwise so perfect porcelain face.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” you shriek into Sanemi’s face.

Carefully, your shaky fingers inspect the wound. Not deep enough to leave a scar, but still unnecessary. Aren’t they supposed to fight with wooden swords only after the last incident?

“Oh shit”, Sanemi suddenly mumbles through gritted teeth.

Your narrowed eyes dart towards him, take in the panic that sets in on his features. This means nothing but trouble. Your voice sharpens, hands balling into tight fists.

“What did you do?”

Sanemi drags a hand through his hair, eyes darting anywhere but yours.

“...I, uh…might’ve…kinda forgot-”

“Forgot what?!”

“That my blade was still dipped in poison from earlier,” he mutters, almost too fast to catch.

“Wanted to try out how it works on demons. Didn’t clean it after. My bad.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your jaw drops. He put poison on his blade. He forgot to wipe it off before fighting Giyu. At first, you’re too stunned to speak, mind unable to follow his words. Then the volume hits.

“YOUR BAD?! YOU FORGOT YOU HAD A POISONED BLADE AND YOU STABBED A HASHIRA WITH IT?!”

Sanemi flinches like your words hit harder than any sword.

“He’s not dead, calm down-”

“CALL SHINOBU! OR AOI! OR LITERALLY ANYONE WITH MEDICAL TRAINING BEFORE I KILL YOU MYSELF!”

Sanemi swears under his breath, mutters something about “bossy brats,” and sprints off, boots pounding against the courtyard stones.

You turn back to Giyu, bracing for the worst - except…

His lashes flutter and his eyes crack open. His pupils are slightly dilated, his breathing uneven. The sight makes your stomach twist, not entirely out of relief, though.

“Giyu? Can you hear me?” you ask, gently touching his cheek.

His gaze locks on yours immediately, sharp as a hawk. But instead of confusion or anger, there’s… something else there. Something warmer. Something you’ve never seen before in his eyes.

Your fingers freeze on his skin.

“You came,” he replies quietly, almost like it’s the only thing that matters.

“Of course I did, you idiot, you just got poisoned-”

His hand shoots up and catches your wrist, holding you there. You blink, startled, as the faintest flush spreads across his cheeks.

“You’re… close,” he murmurs, voice low and a little unsteady.

“I like it when you’re close.”

Heat floods your face.

“Giyu-”

“I was… dreaming about you.”

His thumb brushes along the inside of your wrist and you swear your pulse skips more than just once.

“It felt real. And now… you’re here. Still feels real.”

Your mouth opens to protest, but the way he’s looking at you makes your brain stall, like you’re the only thing keeping him tied to the ground.

His thumb is still stroking your wrist, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the way your pulse jumps under his touch. You try to pull back, but his grip only tightens. No matter how much you longed for his touch, no matter how good this feels, you need to do something. What if he dies because you were too selfish to call for help?

“Giyu… you need to rest-”

“I don’t want to rest.”

His voice is firmer now, almost rough.

“Not when you’re here.”

You swallow hard. This is getting harder each passing second

“You’re poisoned, you’re not thinking straight-”

“I’m thinking perfectly,” he interrupts, his gaze locked to yours.

“Clearer than I have in years.”

Your breath hitches when he sits up suddenly, the movement forcing you back onto your heels. His knee brushes yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. He leans forward, so close you can feel his breath fan across your lips, his body occupying yours fully.

“You keep running around… patching everyone up… looking at me like I’m just another patient.”

His eyes darken, sparkle down at you unpromising.

“But I’ve been watching you.”

Your heartbeat stutters.

“W-What?”

His free hand lifts, fingers ghosting over your jaw, tracing the curve of it with featherlight precision.

“Your voice. Your hands. The way you smell after you’ve been working with herbs… it’s stuck in my head.”

You open your mouth to tell him to stop, that this is the poison talking, but then his nose brushes yours.

“Tell me to let go,” he murmurs.

“Tell me to stop wanting you right now, and I will. But if you don’t…”

His thumb grazes your lower lip, slow, careful.

“…I’m not sure I can.”

Your pulse is pounding so hard it’s dizzying. His breath is warm, face inches from yours, the low rasp of his voice sending heat curling in your stomach. This is a dream coming true, a scenario you’ve had in your head more than once. Why not enjoying at least a few seconds of finally feeling him this close?

“Giyu…”

And then his forehead rests against yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck like he’s anchoring you in place. His lips almost brush yours, just enough for you to feel the faintest drag of heat before he pulls back a fraction, gaze still locked on yours.

“I need you to stay,” he whispers.

“Even if they say it’s the poison, you’re all I’m able to think of, (y/n). You’re all that I want-”

Somewhere in the distance, you hear Sanemi’s heavy steps approaching.

“I FOUND AOI – STOP INTERACTING WITH HIM, YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE! (Y/N)!)”

“Fuck”, you hiss.

“Let’s get out of here”, Giyu suggests, dragging you onto your feet.

Are you really this selfish, so focused on your own needs that you’d ditch his proper medical care for it?

“Fine.”

Hell yes you are.

Tags:

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Somewhat calmed, but still brittle and fractious, you encased your body in a fine white robe, leaving your clothes aside to be de-bloodied by the house staff. Stepping out, you were greeted by the old woman who had welcomed you inside.

"Come along, dear. It's a good thing you two are married, I only had one room--"

You frowned, uncertain, and about to open your mouth to argue back before being unceremoniously shoved into a room, the woman a little too eager to escape from you before you could throw vitriol at her.

You turned on the spot, flustered, in a handsome traditional room. A large, squashy bedroll lay upon the floor...and Sanemi sat upon it, looking pugnacious and nonchalant.

"...get out of my fucking room, Shina--"

"Shut the fuck up. It's our room for the night."

You faltered, short-circuiting and drawing your robe closer to yourself, feeling so naked. Sanemi continued, stripping his uniform top off, throwing it aside. You felt yourself flush hot from head to toes, despite yourself, at his chest and back, all hewn stone and sculpture. He still didn't look at you as he continued.

"They only had one room. They were about to turn us away, so I convinced them we're married. You're welcome."

You fizzlecracked with rage, burning with mortification.

"You? Married to you?"

Sanemi bristled, offended. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean--"

"Oooo I'm your little wifey now am I? Lucky little Sanemi, so fortunate to have such a lovely wife protecting him in battle--"

"--you are such a pain in the ass--"

"--I'll be your dutiful wife, shall I? Here, let me take your clothes, dear one, I shall wash them--"

Sanemi stood slowly now, his shoulders hunched beneath something dark, approaching you like a tiger on the hunt. You continued your relentless mockery, furious at having to share a room with him, as if you could hide how badly you dreamed of him at night, when you weren't tearing each other to shreds--

"--cook meals for you, rub your shoulders and listen to all your woes. Such a perfect little wife--"

You felt yourself shoved back to the wall, squeaking as Sanemi's sweat and blood filled your nose. One strong hand clamped over your mouth, a forearm planted above your head. He panted, seething under your constant barrage of abuse.

His voice was so low, you could barely hear but for the tickle of his breath on your neck, and you shivered to feel him lock you in place, planting a knee between your legs.

"Yeah. That's it. You'll be my little wife. And I'll be your doting husband...if you don't want to sleep in the fucking forest for the night."

You trembled, raising your hands to press weakly at his chest, certain you couldn't hide it now, the longing behind the mockery--

Sanemi didn't move, a shudder running through him as your palms grazed against his nipples. His voice continued, gravelly under the strain of your plush body, caged against his.

"I'll listen to you tell me about your day...and I'll be interested, too. I'll actually listen."

You felt a blush smatter across your breasts, barely contained by your robe and not unnoticed by Sanemi as he continued.

"I'll tell you I missed you...and you'll take the piss out of me like always, but it's just because you missed me too and can't find the words to say it."

Your breaths came hot and fast, tear-filled eyes glimmering up at him as he deconstructed you, foreplay through playing house.

"And I'll pull you close...much closer than this...more like this--" Sanemi pressed his whole body flush to yours, and you groaned. Sanemi caught it in his palm, feeling his cock harden against his thigh at you, trapped like a little rabbit beneath him.

"And I'll kiss you...until you're squirming, and begging me for more. And I'm a devoted husband, so I'll undo your robe...and slip my hands inside to squeeze you so hard, you bruise, until you're all wet and peachy for me..."

Your head swam, feeling yourself wetten as if by some Pavlovian magic. You clamped your thighs around Sanemi's knee, his eyes dark to feel the heat of your empty core against him.

"...and I'll get you ready with my fingers...'cos I'm big, y'know? And you're great at taking me...but I like to feel your cunt shaking around my hand, while I fuck you with it."

Your fingernails pressed crescents into his pecs, now, supple and pliable against the wall as he fucked the fight out of you with his words, all this time just tearing each other to shreds just to avoid telling him and now what for if it never worked all along were you always so fucking obvious--

"And then...I'll use some of that soaking little pussy cream to cover my cock, jack it off it a few times to get it ready for you, but I'll lick the rest off 'cos I know you like that--"

You moaned into Sanemi's palm, squirming hard enough to free one breast, and Sanemi cursed under his breath, his voice rough and wavering as he drank down your trembling curves.

"...and 'cos I'm your husband...I'll fuck into you all at once. And I'll fuck you, and fuck you, until you're yelling out my name, but it won't be Shinazugawa anymore 'cos that's your name, too, wife, it'll be Sanemi instead...or something like that, anyway, 'cos I'll be honest, you'll be too fucked out to talk properly when my cock's splitting you in half. Finally. A way to shut that fucking potty mouth of yours."

Your hands trailed up his chest, beginning to wrap around his neck, involuntarily rubbing your clit over his knee with a shaking moan, throbbing with the promise--

Sanemi released you, stepping away abruptly, leaving you cold and gasping and wet against the wall.

"As your husband, anyway. Not that I am. So shut the fuck up...and go to bed."

You sunk to the floor, stunned and speechless, unable to form a single comeback. You gasped up at Sanemi, his back to you as he undid his hakama. His head, all ruffled white spikes, came up once more with an ah! of realisation, and he shot his final, critical hit.