Hiii! Could you write um, please bare with me I don't request that much to writers so I don't know how to start so here's just the prompt😭
So reader has gone for a mission and it's a LONG one and the Hashira (to be exact it' sanemi, giyuu and rengoku) get horny. When reader comes back, they um have hard devils tango.
I'M SO SORRY THIS IS LIKE SO BLAND, I DON'T REQUEST SMUT AND THIS IS MY FIRST TIME. 😭
MISSED! ft. giyuu, rengoku, & sanemi
Warnings: smut, cockwarming, masturbation, oral (m&f!receiving), sex, fingering, idk lol they are so needy here.
a/n: its honestly good request ^^ this is the first time I'm writing rengoku ohh my?? I kinda change my writing style btw!
You walked the path back to the Giyuu estate. The mission had lasted far too long. You had left early in the evening, and now the sun was almost up. The silence of the trail felt heavy. You could not stop thinking about him. Ypy wondered if he missed you. You suspected he did.
Giyuu was a clingy person. You knew people would laugh if you told them that. Most of the Hashira saw him as a cold, distant man who didn't want to be around anyone. But you knew the truth. He was touch-starved.
There was a time when he had been away on a mission for several days. When he finally returned, he had been a different person. He didn't speak much, but he wouldn't let you go. He had spent hours hugging you from behind, his chest pressed against your back.
You remembered when those hugs always ended with him kissing your neck. Sometimes the kisses turned into bites. He would leave marks that stayed for days, a silent claim of ownership that you didn't mind.
You reached the door of the estate. You slid it open and stepped inside. Giyuu was there. He sat in a chair, staring at nothing in particular. He looked frozen, his gaze fixed on a point in the room.
He jumped slightly. He looked back at you, his eyes wide and surprised. He was panting. His chest heaved under his clothes, and sweat dampened his skin, making it glisten in the dim light. He looked like he had been fighting a battle with himself.
You ran to him, her concern overriding your fatigue.
"Are you okay? What happened?" You asked.
He didn't answer with words. He reached out, grabbed her waist, and pulled her hard into his lap. The force of the movement knocked the breath out of you. He immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck.
His breath was hot and ragged. He started kissing your neck, his lips pressing firmly against your skin. He wasn't being gentle. There was a desperation in the way he clung to you, his fingers digging into your hips.
"Giyuu, talk to me. What is it?" You whispered.
He ignored the question. He moved his mouth higher, sucking on the sensitive skin just below your ear. You let out a soft moan. The sound seemed to trigger something in him. He groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin.
He shifted you on his lap, his hands sliding down to the hem of your uniform skirt. He didn't rush, but his movements were determined. He whispered against your skin, his voice a low, rough rasp.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he murmured. "Every hour. Every minute."
His hand slid under the fabric of your skirt, his palm warm against your thigh. You felt him trembling. The usually composed Water Hashira was shaking with need. He continued to kiss your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin, leaving a trail of saliva that cooled in the morning air.
"You're so tired," he whispered, his voice softening. "I know you just got back. I don't want to exhaust you."
Despite the words, his hand moved higher, brushing against the lace of your underwear. He could feel the dampness there. You're already reacting to him. He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against your shoulder.
"But I can't stand it anymore," he added. "I need to feel you."
He guided your hand down to the bulge in his trousers. He was rock hard, the fabric straining against the size of his cock. You could feel the heat radiating from him. He groaned when yout fingers brushed over the length of it.
He didn't want to move you to a bed. He didn't want to waste a single second. He shifted you slightly, pulling your underwear and skirt up together. He fumbled with his own clothes, his movements hurried and clumsy because of his arousal. When he finally freed his cock, it sprang out, thick and pulsing, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip of his glans.
He gripped your hips and lifted you slightly. He positioned the head of his cock against your opening. You're soaking wet, your pussy slick and ready for him. He didn't thrust hard. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch.
The sensation was overwhelming. You felt the thick head of his cock stretch you open, pushing past the tight walls of your entrance. He let out a long, shuddering breath as he sank deeper. He didn't stop until he was buried completely, his balls slapping against you perineum with a wet sound.
He stopped there. He didn't move. He just held you, filling you completely.
The sudden fullness made you gasp. You felt the heat of him radiating inside you, the way his cock pulsed against your cervix. It was a tight, perfect fit. The air in the room felt thick with the smell of their combined scents—the metallic tang of your mission, the salt of his sweat, and the musk of their arousal.
Giyuu's breathing began to steady. The frantic panting slowed into deep, rhythmic inhalations. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your chest tight against his. He began to kiss you again, but this time it was slower. He captured your lips with his, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you.
You exchanged saliva, the sound of you kissing a wet, sloppy noise in the quiet room. He sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth and swirling it around before releasing it.
"Just stay like this," he whispered against your lips. "Just for a moment."
You felt the way he was twitching inside you. He wasn't thrusting, but his cock was expanding, filling every available space in your pussy. The friction of your skin rubbing together as you breathed was almost enough to push you both over the edge.
"Were you this horny the whole time I was gone?" You asked, your voice breathless.
Giyuu didn't answer. He couldn't. He just tightened his grip on you, burying his face in your neck and letting out a muffled groan. The silence was his answer. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside you that words had failed him.
You shifted your hips slightly, a small, experimental grind. The movement created a squelching sound. Giyuu stiffened. A low, guttural sound escaped him, something between a moan and a growl.
"Don't," he managed to choke out, though his body was leaning into the movement. "If you move... I won't be able to stop."
You smiled against his skin. You liked this side of him—the side that lost all control, the side that needed you so desperately. You began to move your hips in a slow, circular motion.
The friction was intense. Every slide of your body against his sent sparks of pleasure through her. You could feel the ridges of his cock rubbing against your g-spot, the pressure building. Giyuu's breath hitched. He started to thrust back, small, shallow movements that only served to increase the tension.
The sound of your bodies interacting filled the space. Shlicking noises echoed as you slid up and down his length. The wetness was excessive, dripping down your thighs, creating a sticky mess where they joined.
Giyuu's hands moved from your hips to your breasts. He squeezed them through the fabric of your uniform, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You arched your back, your breasts pressing harder into his palms.
"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "So tight. I missed this so much."
He increased the pace. The slow cockwarming had evolved into a rhythmic, driving force. He wasn't going for depth now, he was focusing on the friction, the way his cock slid through the cream of yout pussy. The sound was loud now—a constant, wet squelching that matched the pace of your breathing.
You felt the tension coil in your lower belly. Your internal muscles clamped down on him, squeezing his shaft with every thrust. Giyuu let out a loud moan, his head snapping back against the chair.
"God, you're squeezing me," he groaned. "You're going to make me cum."
He started to thrust harder, his hips slamming against yours. The sound of your skin slapping together—the wet, fleshy thud of his balls against your—added to the sensory overload. You could smell the scent of their sex, a pungent, primal aroma that filled your nostrils.
You felt your climax approaching. It started as a shimmer in her nerves and grew into a wave of heat. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
"Giyuu, I'm... I'm close," you gasped.
He didn't slow down. If anything, he pushed harder, his movements becoming more frantic. He wanted to feel you come around him. He wanted to feel those walls contract and milk him dry.
"Do it," he commanded, his voice rough. "Come for me."
The wave broke. Your pussy convulsed in powerful, rhythmic contractions, clamping down on his cock with an intensity that made Giyuu gasp. You cried out, your voice echoing in the estate, as a surge of pleasure crashed over her.
The feeling of your climaxing was the final straw for Giyuu. He let out a loud, guttural shout, his body locking up. He thrust one last time, burying himself as deep as possible, and then he exploded.
You felt the hot jets of his cum hitting your cervix, pulse after pulse of thick, warm fluid filling you up. He groaned, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm. He held you tight, almost crushing you, as he poured everything into you.
The silence returned, broken only by your heavy, synchronized breathing. The heat between you remained, the warmth of his semen leaking slightly from the edges of their connection.
Giyuu didn't move. He kept you pinned to his lap, his face hidden in your neck. He was still trembling slightly.
"I missed you," he whispered, the words sounding more honest and vulnerable than anything he had ever said.
"You're always so clingy," you teased softly.
Your legs felt heavy. Every step back toward the estate was a chore. This mission had dragged on for weeks, longer than any you had faced before. You were exhausted. Your muscles burned and your mind was a fog of fatigue.
You thought about Rengoku.
You remembered when you first realized how clingy he was. There was a time when he would follow you from room to room just to tell you about a new type of sweet potato he had tried. He didn't seem to understand the concept of personal space when it came to you.
Sometimes you recalled the way he would lean his entire weight against you during briefings, his warmth radiating through your clothes. He always wanted your presence. He wanted to be where you were, regardless of what you were doing.
Once, you remembered him insisting on walking you to the gates of your home even though he had his own duties to attend to. He had just wanted five more minutes of your time.
You thought about the way he looked at you. You remembered the intensity of his gaze, the way he seemed to memorize every movement you made. He was a man of loud passions and louder laughter, but with you, there was a desperate edge to his affection.
You entered the estate. The silence of the halls felt heavy. You didn't call out to him. You just wanted to find your room and collapse into bed. But as you passed the sliding door to his private quarters, you heard it. A rhythmic sound. A sharp, hitched breath.
You stopped. You slid the door open just a crack.
Rengoku was there. He wasn't wearing his haori or his uniform jacket. He was stripped down to his lower garments, which were pushed down past his hips. His hand was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping it with a frantic, desperate energy. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in a mix of pleasure and frustration.
He jumped. The sound of your voice snapped him out of his trance. He froze, his hand still gripped around his length, his chest heaving. His eyes flew open, wide and startled, staring at you. He didn't move for a second, his cock twitching in his grip, glistening with a bead of pre-cum at the tip.
"You're back!" he exclaimed.
He didn't try to cover himself. He didn't look ashamed. Instead, the shock in his eyes vanished, replaced by a raw, starving kind of hunger. He let out a shaky breath, his grip on himself tightening.
"I missed you," he groaned. "I missed you so much I couldn't stand it."
You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. You saw the way his muscles leaped under his skin. He looked needy. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking.
"You were touching yourself," you noted.
"I had to," he replied, his voice rasping. "Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of you. I thought of the way you smell, the way you feel. I couldn't stop thinking about it."
He reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him. He was breathing hard, the scent of musk and arousal filling the small space. He looked up at you, his golden eyes pleading.
"Please," he begged. "Please touch me. I can't do this alone anymore. I need you."
You looked down at him. His cock was fully erect, a thick, pulsing vein running along the side. It was red-tinged and leaking, the head swollen and sensitive. He started to pump himself again, faster this time, his movements jagged.
"Please, baby. I've been dreaming about your mouth for weeks."
You sank to your knees in front of him. The sudden shift in height put you eye-level with his groin. You could see the way his balls were tight against his body, the skin stretched. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around the base of his shaft. He let out a loud, guttural moan that vibrated through the floor.
"Yes, right there," he gasped. "Fuck, your hands are so cold. It feels amazing."
You leaned in, your breath hitting the sensitive skin of his head. You heard him whimper, his hips jerking forward instinctively. You flicked your tongue over the slit, catching the salty drop of pre-cum.
Rengoku let out a sharp cry, his head snapping back against the wall.
You opened your mouth and slid the head of his cock inside. He was thick, filling your mouth instantly. You felt the heat of him, the way his pulse throbbed against your tongue. You began to suck, creating a tight vacuum, swirling your tongue around the rim of his glans.
The sound started immediately. A wet, squelching noise as your saliva lubricated the friction. Shlick. Squelch.
Rengoku's hands flew to your hair, his fingers digging into the strands. He wasn't being gentle. He was desperate. He began to thrust his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat.
"Suck it, baby. Suck it all."
You took him deeper, pushing past your gag reflex. You felt the blunt head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He let out a loud, strangled sound, a mix of a moan and a sob. You could feel the vibrations of his voice echoing through your jaw.
You focused on the texture of him—the smoothness of the head, the slight ridges of the shaft. You used your hand to massage his balls, squeezing them gently while your mouth worked on him. He let out a loud, wet sound, his hips snapping forward with more force.
"Oh, baby—fuck..I miss you so much-" he screamed, his voice echoing in the room. "I fucking missed this-I missed you."
You increased the pace. You sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing, the sound of the suction becoming a loud, rhythmic popping noise every time you pulled back slightly before plunging back down. The saliva was dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating his shaft in a thick, glistening sheen.
Rengoku was shaking now. His entire body was trembling with the effort of holding back. He was thrusting wildly, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, slapping sound. The skin of his thighs hit your cheeks, the friction adding to the heat.
"I'm going to—I'm close.." he yelled.
You wrapped both hands around him, pulling him as deep as possible, your throat tight around him. You could feel the muscles in his abdomen rippling, his breath coming in short, jagged bursts. He was making desperate, animalistic sounds, his moans turning into loud, uncontrolled shouts of pleasure.
"Fuck– Fuck! Right there.."
He gave one final, violent thrust, burying himself to the hilt in your throat. His body stiffened, his toes curling. A loud, guttural roar ripped from his throat as he began to cum.
You felt the first jet of semen hit the back of your throat. It was hot, thick, and forceful. He pulsed again and again, pumping load after load of white, salty fluid into your mouth. You swallowed instinctively, the thick liquid sliding down your throat.
The squelching sound continued as he continued to pulse, the excess cum leaking out of the sides of your lips and dripping onto your chin. He didn't pull away immediately, he stayed buried deep, his chest heaving, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"God," he whispered, his voice a ruined wreck. "God, that was... I needed that."
He slowly slid out of your mouth with a wet, popping sound. A string of saliva and semen connected his cock to your lips for a second before it snapped. He collapsed backward, lying flat on the floor, his legs splayed open, his cock still twitching and glistening with fluids.
You stayed on your knees, breathing hard. You looked at him—the great Flame Hashira, reduced to a panting, spent mess on the floor.
He reached out, his hand shaking, and stroked your cheek.
"Don't ever leave for that long again,"
You stepped into the Wind Estate, the silence of the halls pressing against your ears. Your muscles ached with a heaviness that felt permanent, a residue of the long mission that had kept you away for weeks. You remembered the way the estate usually felt—loud, chaotic, filled with the scent of sharp ozone and aggression. Now, it was just empty.
You scanned the main room. No white haori. No scarred, scowling face. You didn't have the energy to call out for him or search the training grounds. You remembered the times you had tried to surprise him, only to be met with a shout or a sudden, rough grip on your arm. You didn't want a confrontation right now; you wanted to disappear.
You walked toward his private quarters, your footsteps dragging. There was a time when you would have hesitated to enter his room without permission, fearing the storm that lived inside him. But you knew the secret language of his anger. You knew that the rougher he acted, the more he actually craved your presence.
You slid the door open and collapsed onto the futon. The smell of him—sandalwood, old scars, and something metallic—clung to the fabric. You didn't even bother to change your clothes. You just closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion pull you under.
You didn't know how long you slept, but the first thing you felt was a hand. It wasn't a gentle touch. It was a firm, possessive grip on your hip, fingers digging into your skin through the fabric of your uniform. You stirred, a low moan escaping your throat, and then you felt it—the heat of his breath against your inner thigh.
Sanemi didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He had already pushed your clothes aside, his rough palms sliding up your legs to peel back the fabric. You felt the cool air hit your wetness, and then the sudden, scorching heat of his tongue.
He knew exactly where to go. He started slow, his tongue swirling around your clit with a precision that made your hips jerk upward. You remembered how he always did this—waking you up with the taste of your own arousal, claiming you before you were even fully conscious. The sensation was overwhelming, a sharp contrast to the numbness of your exhaustion. You gripped the sheets, your knuckles white, as he sucked on your nub, his tongue flicking rapidly, creating a wet, rhythmic shlicking sound that echoed in the quiet room.
"Sanemi..." you whimpered, your voice thick with sleep and desire.
He didn't answer. He just groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure hunger. He pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you open while his tongue continued to batter your clit. You were close, so incredibly close. The tension coiled in your gut, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. You could feel the orgasm building, a wave of heat rushing toward the surface, your walls pulsing around his fingers.
Just as you peaked, just as the first spark of release hit your nerves, he stopped.
He pulled his face away with a wet pop, leaving you shivering and unfinished. You opened your eyes, blinking against the dim light. You looked down to see him hovering over you, his expression dark, his eyes narrowed and bloodshot. He looked like he wanted to devour you and break you all at once.
"Where the fuck were you?" he spat, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
You blinked, the sudden drop in pleasure leaving you feeling hollow and desperate. "The mission... you know how long it was."
Sanemi let out a harsh, mocking laugh. He crawled up your body, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. His grip was bruising, his palm hot against your skin.
"A week," he hissed, leaning in until his nose brushed yours. "A whole fucking week of me rotting in this house. Do you have any idea what that does to me? Knowing you're out there, somewhere, and I can't get my hands on you?"
"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice trembling.
"Missed me?" He sneered, his gaze dropping to your chest, which was heaving with exertion. "You don't get to just walk back in here and expect me to be nice. I've been horny as fuck for weeks, thinking about every single inch of you. And you just fall asleep? In my bed? Like you didn't leave me starving?"
You tried to arch your back, trying to bring your hips back to his face, but he shifted his weight, blocking you. The frustration in his voice was palpable, a physical weight in the room. He was vibrating with a mix of longing and genuine anger.
"Please, Sanemi... I'm so tired... just finish it," you pleaded.
"Finish it?" He gripped your wrists tighter, his eyes flashing. "No. You're going to feel every second of how much I hated you being gone."
He reached down, grabbing his own trousers and ripping them open with a violent tug. His cock sprang free, thick and pulsing, already leaking a bead of pre-cum at the tip. It looked angry, the veins standing out against the flushed skin. You were already dripping, your pussy soaking the sheets from his teasing.
He didn't ease in. He grabbed your thighs, hauling them back until your knees were practically touching your shoulders, exposing you completely. With one brutal, singular thrust, he slammed into you.
You let out a loud, sharp scream that was half-pain and half-ecstasy. The sheer size of him stretched you to your absolute limit, the friction of his dry skin against your wet walls creating a searing heat. He didn't stop to let you adjust. He immediately began to hammer into you, his movements jagged and violent.
"Yes.. Sanemi... oh god, yes—" you cried out, your head tossing from side to side on the pillow.
The sound of the impact was rhythmic and wet—a loud, fleshy slapping noise as his balls collided with your backside. Each thrust pushed you further back into the futon, the air being forced out of your lungs. He was fucking you with a desperation that bordered on hatred, his teeth gritted, his breath coming in guttural snarls.
"You're such a bitch," he groaned into your ear, his voice vibrating through your entire skull. "Making me wait... making me imagine this for weeks. Look at you, taking it all... you love it, don't you? You love how much I want to break you."
"I'm sorry– Please... please don't stop!" you sobbed, your fingers clawing at his scarred shoulders.
He responded by driving deeper, his cock hitting your cervix with a blunt force that made your vision blur. You felt a sudden, sharp squelch as your internal muscles clamped down on him in a reflexive spasm. He let out a choked noise, his pace accelerating. He wasn't looking for a rhythm, he was looking for release.
He shifted his grip, hooking his arms under your ass and lifting you off the bed so he could drive in even further. The angle changed, allowing him to hit a spot that sent electric shocks through your spine. You began to moan uncontrollably, the sound turning into a series of high-pitched whimpers.
"Tell me," he commanded, his voice raw. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me you're never leaving this fucking estate again."
"I'm yours– I'm yours, Sanemi! Just... please, harder.."
He obliged, his thrusts becoming frenzied. You could hear the sound of saliva and sweat mixing, the shlicking noise of his cock sliding in and out of your soaking pussy becoming deafening. Every time he pulled back, he almost slipped out entirely, only to slam back in with a force that shook your entire frame. Your breasts bounced with the impact, your nipples rubbing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves.
You felt the orgasm returning, stronger and more violent than before. It wasn't a slow build; it was a crash. Your walls began to ripple, squeezing his shaft with an intensity that made him growl.
"You're so tight... fuck, you're squeezing me so hard," he gasped, his composure finally breaking.
He began to fuck you with an overzealous energy, his hips blurring. In his haste, his cock slipped out of you completely with a wet, sucking sound. He didn't even pause, immediately slamming back in, the sudden re-entry causing you to scream and arch your back.
"I've got you," he hissed, his voice breaking. "I've fucking got you."
The friction reached a breaking point. You felt the internal pressure explode, your orgasm ripping through you in waves that left you gasping for air. You clamped down on him, your pussy pulsing in rhythmic contractions that milked him dry.
Sanemi let out a loud, guttural roar, his body locking up. He thrust one last time, burying himself as deep as possible, and you felt the hot, thick jets of his cum hitting your cervix. He didn't pull away. He stayed there, shuddering, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts.
The silence returned to the room, but it was different now. It was heavy with the smell of sex and exhaustion. You lay there, your legs still trembling, your insides feeling full and warm. Sanemi slowly relaxed his grip on your wrists, though he didn't move his body off yours. He remained heavy on top of you, a grounding weight that chased away the remnants of your fatigue.
He shifted slightly, the sound of your joined bodies making a wet, sticky noise as he began to slide out. He didn't move far, instead rolling to the side and pulling you into his chest. His skin was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against your ear.
"Don't go on a mission that long again," he muttered, his voice returning to its usual gruff tone, though the edge was gone.
"I don't make the assignments, Sanemi."
"I'll kill the messenger," he grumbled, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
You closed your eyes, the warmth of his body finally allowing you to truly relax. You remembered the coldness of the mission, the loneliness of the road, and the way you had counted the days until you could return to this specific kind of chaos.
"You're an idiot," you whispered.
"Yeah, well, I'm your idiot,"
