Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Thank you, Nakime,” you whispered, bowing low as the she-demon shuffled you through the infinite castle Lord Muzan called home.

In your hands, you carried a set of the softest, most expensive towels you’d ever laid hands on, a bar of the sweet smelling soap Lord Kokushibo preferred to use sitting on top of the neatly folded pile. Of the three Upper Moons you served, Kokushibo called on you the least often. He was a quiet, serious man who often preferred solitude over the company of any demon, though you often saw him conversing quietly with Lord Muzan. Both men were intimidating in their own right, but while Lord Muzan’s oppressive aura made you want to vomit and run for your life, Kokushibo’s seemed to carry a more dignified tinge to it, as though he demanded submission more than fear.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the castle, the only other sound being the occasional shift of a building here or there as the other demons moved about within the space. Being a lower demon, you were grateful that you were even allowed to reside here in the house of Lord Muzan, though you suspected he kept you around because of your weak constitution. You were, to put it lightly, a pathetic demon, one who lacked the ability to even bring herself to kill in order to avoid starvation. That meant you weren’t a threat, though it wasn't like any demon stood a chance against his upper ranks anyway, let alone the man himself. You’d been changed into a demon on a whim by one of the previous Upper Moons who had met their fateful end at the hands of the demon slayers. Instead of leaving you to die, they had brought you to the infinity castle, even pledged on your behalf to Lord Muzan who’d eventually decided you would make a good attendant to his Upper Moons, much to their chagrin.

Thanks to Nakime, it took barely any time to get from the laundry area to Kokushibo’s rooms, and you found yourself standing outside, breathing heavily and trying to steady yourself on weak knees. In and out, you took large gulps of air as you steeled yourself to enter the room. Placing the stack of towels on the ground next to you, you got on your knees with your hands stacked on top of each other, pressing your stacked hands and head to the floor, almost as if you were trying to bury yourself into the hardwood.

“My Lord, I’m here to attend you,” you said quietly, knowing he would hear you even if you whispered.

Logically, you knew there was nothing to fear as long as you obeyed commands and were respectful, but the idea of even raising your voice made you shiver in fear. A moment passed before a deep voice rumbled, “Enter,”

You grabbed the pile of linen off the floor, rising to your feet. As quietly as possible, you pushed open the sliding door to step into the dimly lit room. Kokushibo’s living quarters were always much cooler compared to the rest of the castle, and you shivered at the sudden change in temperature. His room was neat and orderly, sparsely adorned, yet still elegant in comparison to the rooms you’d grown up in. He obviously wanted for nothing, though you got the feeling he rarely indulged in the pleasures unlimited wealth could bring. The faint scent of blood hung in the air, a sign of a fresh kill, and there were barely visible bloodstains on Kokushibo’s multi-colored nagagi. The large tub in the corner was filling with steaming hot water, and you walked over to sprinkle some sweet smelling flowers inside. You breathed in deeply, highly preferring the floral scent over that of human blood.

“I’ve brought some fresh towels, my lord. Along with your favorite soaps,” you said, holding the pile of linen out to him.

“My hair first,” was all he said, and you nodded, waiting for him to cross the room and kneel on one of the plush pillows in the sitting area.

You followed quickly, swiping the soft bristled brush, another luxury, from the table as you did so. Kokushibo’s sword lay in its holder near his bedside, but you had no doubt he’d be able to swipe it and behead you faster than you could blink. Perhaps he’d even eat your remains, though you highly doubted you’d provide any nutrition with how little you ate. You knelt behind him, hands going to carefully pull off the ties that held his long mane away from his face. Long, dark locks fanned out over his back pouring to the floor like a cascade of red-tinged ink spilling from a bottle. This was one task you actually enjoyed about your job. Kokushibo’s hair was soft and barely had any tangles for you to work through, but you kept working in sections until you could run the brush all the way from the crown of his head to the ends of his hair.

“Gentle as always,” he murmured, shocking you. Usually the only words he spoke to you were instructions and demands.

“Thank you, my lord,” you said quietly, folding your hands in your lap to wait for his instruction.

He rose elegantly, towering over your still kneeling form, to cross over to the tub. You waited until he was two steps away from you before rising quickly and following after him. Your hands found his uwa-obi, and you began to undo the tight knot that secured it around his waist. His six eyes watched you with an intensity that made you want to squirm, but you bit back the discomfort as you continued your work. The sash came undone easily, letting his hakama fall to the floor. You stepped back to give him room to step out of the fallen garments, and he did so elegantly, his powerfully muscled legs moving with a feline grace. His nagagi was next, and as your hands lifted up to undo the obi holding it together, Kokushibo’s hands went to your waist.

You froze as they settled in place, thumbs rubbing slight circles into your skin through the fabric of your kimono. His hands were large and overly warm, as most demons ran hotter than the average human. You were a demon too so the temperature shouldn’t have bothered you, but it felt as though Kokushibo was buzzing with an almost carnal sensation that brought an entirely different heat to your body. You swallowed thickly, choosing to continue to undress him as he hadn’t commanded you otherwise. Technically, you were his subordinate. He had every right to touch you, hold you, harm you, or whatever else he pleased. Still, he had always been quiet and reserved around you and the other demons, even the other Upper Moons.

“Do you service the others?” he asked quietly. You frowned. Surely he knew you did? He called on you so rarely that you’d be bored out of your mind if you didn’t attend the others.

“I do, my lord. Lord Douma calls on me most often, though it is usually just to have a conversation. His followers are very…dedicated so he does not need me to do much,” you replied, slipping the nagagi off his shoulders, revealing pale skin and a muscled torso.

He moved each hand, one at a time, so that you could slip the garment off his arms, and when you gently laid it over your forearm, his hands still hadn’t left your waist.

“It does not surprise me that Douma would call on you most. His appetite for the female kind is disgustingly insatiable,” he practically growled, grip tightening to an almost painful force.

“And Akaza?” he continued, moving to play with the obi at your waist. You began to tremble, brow furrowing in confusion. This was not usual behavior for the upper rank.

Surely he didn’t want…that, right? You thought.

“Lord Akaza never calls on me of his own accord. It is usually Lord Muzan who bids me to go to him, more often than I think Lord Akaza prefers” you said quietly.

“Are you ready to bathe my lord?” you asked hesitantly.

“I will tell you when I am ready,” he snapped, the hand from your waist moving to cup one ass cheek. You yelped in shock, hands almost going to lay flat on his chest, but you stopped, unsure if you even had permission to touch him.

“Do you give them this?” he whispered, squeezing you slightly.

“No, my lord. They never ask for that,” you replied honestly, breathe rapidly increasing as he began to pull at the knot of your obi.

“Would you if they asked?” he rumbled, head dipping to nip at your earlobe.

“Yes, my lord,” you said.

“You would allow anyone to lay hands on you in that way?” he snarled.

“What choice would I have, Lord Kokushibo?” you said, saying his name for the first time that night.

“I suppose that is fair,” he said, still holding you close. Your obi was undone now, your kimono slowly coming undone. The cool air nipped at your exposed collar bone, and you whimpered as he bit down on the shell of your ear.

“I do not want for anything,” he said quietly, then he pulled back, all six eyes trained on your face. Tears had begun to pool in your eyes as you realised what he wanted for you.

“I do not want for anything,” he repeated, “And yet, when I look at you, I crave something. When you run your fingers through my hair, I yearn. When you undress me, I feel this disgusting need,”

He pushed your kimono off your shoulders, and your hands automatically lifted up to cover your breasts, pressing the fabric of nagami to your bare skin. He growled, yanking your arms away and tossing the delicate fabric of his and your clothes to the ground. Clawed hands dug into your buttocks as he pressed you into his hard body, his hard cock straining against your stomach with need. You yelped as his lips found your neck this time, pulling back to reveal sharp teeth that then grazed the delicate skin just enough to bring a small droplet of blood to the surface. He lapped at it greedily, rough tongue dragging over your skin. Your nipples were hard, whether from the cold or your arousal you weren't sure, but they brushed against his chest as he pulled you closer, agitating the sensitive nubs.

“My…my lord?,” you said breathlessly, both a question and a plea.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist to lift you up, pulling a squeak from you as your wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked the two of you over to his bed, unceremoniously tossing you onto the soft surface in a naked, sweating heap. He stood over you for a moment, gazing down at your flushed, tear streaked face. You were completely vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to fight back, unable to say no. You were at his mercy and he knew it.

“Atone for your sins,” he demanded, planting one knee on the bed, then the other as he crawled to cover your body with his own. One knee nudged yours apart, and he slanted his hips between your spread legs, hands circling the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him.

“My sins?” you asked, fisting the soft sheets, “I don’t understand-,”

“Atone for this…this arousal, you’ve wrought from me,” he said angrily. He fisted his cock and slapped the tip at your entrance several times making you yelp.

One hand reached out to part your folds, running up and down, making you shiver. After a moment, one digit slipped inside, and he leaned close, all six eyes focused directly on your most intimate part. Another finger joined the first, each now knuckle deep, and together, they moved in and out, curling slightly while inside. His cool breath fanned over your clit before his lips closed over it, making you gasp. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, not wanting anyone to hear your cries of pleasure as the upper moon fingered you. He promptly yanked your hand away, pinning at your side, pausing in his assault on your clit long enough to growl,

“I want to hear you,”

He increased his pace, fingers slipping in and out easier as more of your slick coated them. This time you moaned, loud and free, unable to fight against the pleasure building in your lower body any longer. Kokushibo’s hand had begun pumping up and down on his cock as he pleasured you, bringing a red flush to his pale skin that you’d never seen before. He smiled with satisfaction, pulling back long enough to watch your face contort with pleasure as your orgasm crashed over you. He lifted the two fingers to his mouth and proceeded to lick them clean, six eyes never leaving your face as you came down from your high. Your own hand wandered down to prod at your throbbing core, and you marveled at the amount of arousal that had spilled out from just his fingers and tongue.

He wasted no time in pulling you closer so the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, and he aligned himself with his hand, his intent to spear you entirely on it clear. You yelped, hands going down to cover your entrance, feet kicking at the sheets as you scurried away. Your back hit the wall, and you clamped your legs closed as you shook your head at him.

“My lord…please…I’m not sure this is…” you stuttered, flinching under his scrutiny.

His anger was suffocating. It filled the room, zapping away the cool, serene atmosphere to replace it with a sweltering blaze of fury. You whimpered, pressing further into the wall and away from him. That only seemed to infuriate him further. He snarled, moving in a flash to scoop your obi from the floor. He returned to the bed, gripping your wrists in one big hand long enough to secure a tie around them, effectively holding them together and immobile. He shoved you down onto with one hand, spreading you open wide. There was no preamble, no warning. He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in, and he relentlessly kept pushing in until he was buried inside. You gasped at the sudden fullness, feeling your insides stretching wide to accommodate his large cock.

Kokushibo threw his head back, shaking his wild mane. He released a deep groan, hands gripping your hips tightly to try and pull you even closer. It was no use, though. He was as deep as he could go, but he didn’t look satisfied with that. Eyes wild, he pulled back enough for his cock to almost slip out of you before slamming home again, shaking your body with the force of his thrust. You g\yelped as he did it again and again, grunting with each thrust until he began to move at a relentless pace, pounding into you with no mercy. His fingers undoubtedly left bruises on your waist, but he moved his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Your bound hands brushed his stomach as he leaned over you, still thrusting at that relentless pace. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered,

“Your body…your cries of pleasure…they will be payment enough…” he said.

“I still….my lord...Kokushibo…” you gasped, finding it hard to speak as he fucked into you with such a force.

“Say my name…just my name, no title…” he begged.

Begged. He was Upper Moon One, he never begged for anyone or anything, least of all a lesser demon like you, but here he was. Sweaty and hot, towering over you as he filled your very insides without mercy.

“Kokushibo,” you said quietly, flinching as his hand came up to rest on your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he growled, suddenly flipping you onto your knees.

He was only out of you for a moment before he was back inside, now pounding you into the mattress. One hand held your hips to keep you in place, and the other grabbed your hair in a firm grip. Your scalp burned, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure you felt as Kokushibo consciously hit the same spot over and over, sending ripples of pleasure across your body. You braced your elbows on the bed, trying to catch your breath, but he wasn’t having that. Instead, he pushed you forward, so your face hit the mattress. You were unable to pull yourself up onto your forearms, and now, he simply kept fucking into you as mewled and gasped into the soft sheets.

“Yes…that’s it…take me, all of me. Take this want, this need, and…”

He trailed off as he continued to fuck you, and you felt his cock spasms slightly within you. Your own pleasure was almost at its peak, toes curling, tears and cries of pleasure spilling out onto the bed. The hand in your hair wrapped around your neck, pulling you up slightly off the bed as Kokushibo chased his release. You cried out, uncaring of the volume now, as you orgasmed around his cock. Your release seemed to push him over the edge, as Kokushibo thrust forward one more time before his seed was spilling out and filling you up. You vividly felt the thick stream of cum coating your walls as you lay there shaking, Kokushibo groaning behind you.

He didn’t release you immediately, instead choosing to remain hilted within you as the two of you caught your breath. Eventually, he ever so slowly eased himself out of you, watching with awe as his thick cum spilled out of you as he did so. A few droplets dripped onto the bed, and he swiped a finger through it, bringing it to your mouth. The unspoken order was clear, and so you sucked his finger gently, cleaning the salty cum off of it. He hummed in satisfaction, pull you up and into his arms, your back to his front. He reached around you to undo the obi, and he rubbed at your raw wrists gently.

“So weak,” he cooed, “If you were properly fed, you would’ve healed this immediately,”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” you said, somehow feeling shameful at the lack of human flesh in your diet.

“No matter,” he said, “I will ensure you eat well enough. You will not be able to withstand me like this if you are not well,”

His words made you blink in surprise, a gasp spilling out of you as you were suddenly lifted into the air, bridal style. He strode over to the tub, stepping in and sinking down to sit with you between his legs. He grabbed one of the discarded linens on the floor, dipping it in the still warm water. He brushed it gently over your swollen core, and you flinched a little at the contact. You relaxed slightly as he continued to swipe the cloth over your whole body, even going as far to lather it int he expensive soap he favored.

“Now, you will smell of me all over,” he said possessively.

“My lord…”

“Kokushibo,” he instructed, and you swallowed nervously.

“Kokushibo,” you said, “Are we…will you…”

“I will take you over and over again, until I tire of you,” he answered.

His hand went to your now damp hair again, using it to crane your head back. He gazed down at you, yellow eyes searing into your skin, the symbols for ‘Upper Moon One’ blazing in them.

“Prepare yourself, little demon. When it comes to you, I am insatiable,”

Chapter Text

How long could a demon hold their breath?

You wondered this as you scurried across the long corridors of the infinity castle, opting to bounce between roofs to get there even faster. Nakime could only do so much, after all.

Your destination: the eerily quiet palace Lord Douma occupied.

Lord Douma called on you the most of the upper ranks, and that wouldn't bother you all that much if he wasn't such a…messy eater. Humans were only allowed into the castle for feeding, but, to your knowledge, only Douma bothered to bring any here. Kokushibo rarely needed to eat all that much anymore, and Lord Akaza always enjoyed his meals on the outside.

You figured Douma simply enjoyed torturing his prey, luring them into his elegant home with a false sense of safety, disguising it as a chance for his dreamy eyed followers to get a gold star from their master. They followed him like lambs to a slaughter. There was no other way to define the almost animalistic way upper moon two devoured his prey. Yet, unlike an animal, he consumed his food wholly, leaving not a single trace save for the puddles of blood on the polished floor of his Lotus Pavillion.

Puddles you were responsible for cleaning up.

Your disdain for human flesh still remained, though you had been painfully forcing yourself to eat more of it lately to appease Lord Kokushibo. The upper moon hadn't been lying when he'd said he was insatiable. His rare summons had increased in frequency, so much so that you were getting used to the almost constant soreness in your lower half. He never let you have many days of rest, going as far as demanding you attend him more over the other moons. He outranked the others that was certain, but he would never undermine Lord Muzan. And Lord Muzan had ordered you to take care of all three upper moons.

Still, Lord Muzan respected Kokushibo just slightly more than the other upper ranks, and that gave the six-eyed man a little more freedom to do as he pleased. That was how you found yourself hurrying to Lord Douma's space in the infinity castle, wondering if you could hold your breath long enough to clean up his mess without gagging. Kokushibo had kept you, though you'd only had time to help him bathe (just bathe, much to his dismay) before leaving. You were late, something that had never happened before, and fear made you increase your pace. You arrived at the heavy, ornate doors of Douma's palace, pushing them open to slip inside. You navigated the familiar dark hallways to the Lotus Pavillion, snagging a bucket and clean rag you kept stored along the way. The doors to the Pavillion were ajar, allowing you to slip inside, hopefully unnoticed.

Dogma was still enjoying his meal, and the relief you felt at that fact helped ease some of the tension in your body. You slowly crossed the bridge over the pond, stopping just long enough to collect a generous amount of water before you reached the platform Douma was sitting cross-legged on. Bodies surrounded him, and you swallowed hard, breathing through your mouth to block out the smell. Your efforts were wasted, as the copper scent overcame your senses, and you choked back a gag. Reaching the edge of the platform, you set down the bucket of water to bow deeply before the upper moon whose back was still turned to you.

“I'm here to clean up, my lord,” you said quietly, hoping he was not in the mood for talking.

Only the squishy sound of teeth biting into flesh filled the space for a while after you spoke, and you focused on not throwing up, face pressed into the floor. Finally, Douma stopped and turned, blood covering his mouth and chin. Rivulets of it dripped down onto both the floor and his dark red shirt, and he smiled, teeth bloody and wickedly sharp.

“Ah, you're here! You were so late, I didn't think you were coming. And that would have disappointed me,” he said cheerfully.

He gestured to the bodies around him.

“I indulged a bit, you see. So the mess is more than usual,” he said with a giggle. “Honestly, I probably won't finish it all, so you'll have to take away some of the leftovers too,”

“It is no problem, my lord. I will do my best to clean up well,” you responded, rising to your feet.

“Wanna try?” He asked, holding the severed limb out to you, and your grip on the bucket went white knuckled.

“A lowly demon such as myself would never dare sully your meal with my weakness,” you said, hoping that would be enough to appease him.

“More for me,” he said with a shrug, turning back to resume eating.

You took that as a dismissal, turning to the furthest body. It was mostly gone, only a head and torso left, but it was still leaking blood onto the floor, some even dripping off the platform and into the water. Swallowing hard, you hoisted it up with one hand, practically running from the Pavillion. One by one, you carried the extra bodies to a side room where you could have Nakime throw them out later, careful not to make more of a mess than there already was. As you returned from your last trip, your foot stepped in a large puddle of blood, making you wince. You slipped off your sandals to leave them at the door, debating on burning them later.

Now the real work.

You knelt on the floor, wetting the rag you'd brought with you, and began the familiar routine of scrubbing away the blood until the floor shined. You weren't sure how much time had passed before you felt a heavy presence behind you. You turned and looked up to see Lord Douma standing over you, head cocked to the side as he studied you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite work out.

“You smell like Lord Kokushibo,” he stated, rainbow eyes unblinking.

“I was attending to him before I came here, my lord. I apologize if it offends you,” you replied quietly.

“It doesn't bother me all that much. It's just…” he leaned in close enough that you could see the steaks of blood still left on his face after he'd wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“The scent is stronger than usual,” he decided, hands on his hips.

One hand darted forward to grab your hair and yanked your head back, making you yelp in surprise. He harshly pulled your head to the side and licked the column of your neck, stopping to inhale deeply when he reached your ear. His breath still smelled of blood when he spoke.

“Have you been up to something naughty?” He asked with a giggle.

“I…I only do what is requested of me, Lord Douma,” you replied nervously.

“Is that so? Well, I've got a request too then,” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver.

The temperature in the room dropped suddenly, and you jumped as something ice cold brushed against your leg. You looked down in horror to see one of Douma's icy tentacles encircling your ankle, feeling your other leg already in another tentacle's icy grip.

“Lord Muzan says my lack of feelings is…unusual, even for a demon. And frustrating. I'm not really sure why though. It's not like I was any different when I was a human,” he said, tracing the claw of his index finger up and down your spine. “Perhaps you can help me with that,”

That same claw ripped your kimono and both layers of your juban in two, the delicate fabrics fluttering to your sides. You gasped as the cold wrapped around you like an icy blanket. Douma released your hair to shove you forward, his ice tentacles pulling your legs apart in kind. Two clawed fingers poked and prodded at your core, making you squirm.

“Hmm, it definitely looks like you've been busy,” Douma said, slipping one finger in.

You shrieked as his claw lightly scraped your inside, attempting to scramble away, but his tentacles held firm. They tightened even more, and Douma paid your struggles no mind, continuing his exploration of your insides.

“Not that I know what one of these normally looks like anyway,” he chuckled, suddenly pulling his fingers out, giving your center a sharp slap.

The rustle of fabric filled the air, and you peeked back to see him undoing his pants, shoving the fabric down his hips. The white cloth bunched up beneath his pelvic area where his cock now hung out, pale and pulsing with arousal. It was leaking precum already, and Douma peered at it curiously, swiping a finger across the tip to collect some of it. Said finger then was pushed inside you, coating your walls with the liquid. He moved forward, lining up his sizable cock with your entrance, and you squealed, struggling harder then.

“Wait my lord! Please! I'm…I'm not ready!” You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes at the possibility of him simply shoving it in.

“Hmm?” Douma asked, rainbow eyes wide.

“I will tear if I'm not properly…lubricated,” you whispered, face flushed.

Douma said nothing for a moment, and then he bit down hard on his tongue. He bit hard enough to draw a substantial amount of blood, using two hands to pull your ass cheeks apart. His mouth opened, the blood spilling out and onto you, dripping down over your asshole and onto your center. The wound had already healed by the time Douma began rubbing the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in slightly to smear his blood inside.

“That should do it,” the demon said sweetly before shoving inside, hilting himself fully in one go.

You gasped, sliding forward on the floor at the force of his thrusts, the bloody remnants of his meal preventing you from staying up right fully. You slipped and slid in the puddles, the red liquid coating your hands and arms. Strong hands gripped your hips to yank you back as Douma pulled out, only to drive in again. A deep groan bubbled out of him, echoing throughout the otherwise quiet space.

“Ahh…I understand now…haha!” He laughed, thrusting forward a few more times.

“This feeling…I think I love it! Is this it? Is this love?” He asked, grip tightening to the point where his claws dug into your skin and drew blood.

Douma lifted one hand up to lick the blood from between his fingers, humming with satisfaction at the taste. The wounds closed up quickly, only to be reopened when he yanked you further onto his cock. You didn’t think he ate demons like Kokushibo, but the wild look in his colorful eyes told you he would try anything if he thought it would help him feel something.

“This is love. I'm going to fill you up with it,” was all he said before he began fucking into you quickly, relentlessly.

The makeshift lube he'd used earlier did nothing really, and his thick cock scraped against your walls harshly, pulling the skin taunt each time he pulled out. To your shock, the burning pain faded as arousal flooded you, making the surface of his member slick. His hands groped at your beasts, pinching and pulling at the sensitive nipples until you were whimpering with every touch and thrust. His white hair ticked your neck as he leaned over you, and you turned your head just in time for him to press his lips against yours.

It was obviously his first kiss as he pressed his lips to yours in an almost clumsy, awkward manner. It didn't take him long to figure it out though, and when his teeth bit into your bottom lip, drawing blood, your responding gasp gave him full access to your mouth. His tongue met yours in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, and you pulled back as the taste of human blood overwhelmed you. His responding growl made you shake, one hand encircling the back of your head to force you back into the kiss. This time, he dominated the kiss from the beginning, first moving his lips against yours, then transitioning to practically tonguing your throat. His thrusts never stopped as he continued his assault on your mouth, and you found yourself struggling for air after a while. The hand on your head wouldn't budge however, no matter how hard you pushed against it or struggled. Black spots clouded your vision before he finally released you to lift your arm up so he could lick some of the blood smears from it. Your inhales were rapid and sharp, forcing you to cough a few times with how suddenly you took in air.

So that's how long a demon can hold their breath, you thought weakly as the black spots faded from your vision. Douma pulled back, and you felt more liquid travel down the valley between your cheeks, and then a clawed thumb was pushing inside the tight bud above your stretched out opening.

“Ah! My lord, I've never…please, not there…” you begged, wincing as he pushed his thumb in a little further.

Douma only hummed as he continued to fuck into you, thumb never leaving that spot. The sensation of being filled in both places at once was foreign, but your body didn't mind as you felt the familiar build up of pleasure coming from within you. You bit your lip to keep quiet, but Douma was unabashedly loud.

“Ah little demon! This feeling… I see now why Lord Kokushibo kept you all to himself. I wonder if he'll be mad when he smells my love on you,” Douma said, cock pulsing as though the thrill of being caught only encouraged him.

The ice tentacles released your legs, and then you were being flipped around to face him. His cock slipped out of you as he maneuvered you where he wanted, but then he was slamming home again as you straddled his waist. His strong arms wrapped around you in a bear hug, squeezing tight enough that you were sure your ribs would've broken if you'd been human. But Douma paid his strength no mind, too lost in this newfound pleasure.

He squeezed tight as he fucked into you harshly, either uncaring or unaware of how to be gentle during lovemaking. He kept you there, positioned over him, on your knees still so he had plenty of space to pull back thrust in. You couldn't help but think the position was ironic as he fucked you surrounded by blood and Lotus flowers.

“You're doing so good, little demon. So…good,“ he said into your ear, and you felt a few tear drops falling onto your shoulder as he spoke.

Your nipples brushed against his chest as he moved against you, and your hands went to circle his strong shoulders. The movement made you open your legs a little wider, giving him fuller access to your most intimate part. His thrusts were deeper now and harder, hitting a place within you that sent ripples of pleasure through your body. Your hand slipped between the two of you to rub your clit, and Douma's eyes lit up at the action.

“A love button? How cute!” He said, brushing your hand away to rub a harsh circle into your clit.

The rough sensation made you gasp as he continued to stimulate the sensitive nub while putting upwards into you, hitting that sweet spot over and over and over. Moans spilled out of you, much to his delight, and you felt his cock swell within you. Douma continued his relentless teasing of your clit until finally, your orgasm crashed over you in waves, making your walls clench down on his cock.

“Ahh that's.. yes, that's it…” Douma said, and then he was coming, punctuating his words with harsh thrusts.

His thick cum filled you up, the sheer amount of it overwhelming, and you looked down to see some of it splitting out around his cock that was still buried inside you. Douma smiled and fell back onto the floor, pulling you with him.

“Oh, my little demon. I'll have to call on you more often. Perhaps next time we can share a meal together before we do this again!” He said excitedly, running his hands up and down your body.

“Whatever you wish, my lord,” you said weakly, absolutely spent from the sheer force of his so called love.

“Mhmm. Yes, whatever is wish,” he said brushing a hand over your asshole again, making you flinch.

“How about dessert?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

Chapter Text

“Go to Akaza. He has been restless as of late, and I am sure your company will do him good,” Lord Muzan ordered, hidden meaning behind his words making you wince.

Of course he knew what had occurred between you and the upper moons. You weren’t sure what was more concerning: that he seemed to approve or that you weren’t all that apologetic about it.

The authority in his voice had felt like a boulder pressing down onto your back as you knelt before him. You were aware that Lord Muzan took many forms, had seen many of them with your own eyes, but none of them ever looked all that threatening to you. If you'd passed him on the street, you probably wouldn't have given him a second glance. That such an unassuming man could hold this vast, immense power was baffling to you.

You squeaked out a ‘Understood, Lord Muzan’ but did not rise until he was gone. You barely had time to sit up before Nakime was sending the bridge you knelt on flying through the infinity castle with one strum of her biwa. The cool air was a welcome balm that chased away the sweltering heat of nervousness, and you relaxed, allowing Nakime’s blood demon art to do the work for you. Gratitude flooded you when the bridge seemed to speed up even more as you passed Douma’s palace; an attempt to avoid his attention.

Since your evening with Douma, Kokushibo has been more agitated than you’d ever seen him. You hadn’t truly thought the serious man to be capable of being agitated, but his recent rough love-making made his feelings clear to you. The Upper Moons rarely interacted unless summoned by Lord Muzan, and Kokushibo was both older, wiser, and more calm than Douma would ever be. He never acted irrationally, and he valued authority and hierarchy more than anything. That being said, he outranked Douma in both name and power, and while he wasn't one to be showy, with the way he'd reacted to what had transpired between you and Douma had been enough indication that he wouldn't hesitate to put upper moon two in his place.

The bridge began to drop rapidly, making your stomach shift, and then it stopped right where you wanted to be: Lord Akaza’s chambers. You thanked Nakime before quietly entering the empty building. The lights were dim, and the room smelled of stale air which meant Akaza hadn’t been there in quite some time. He loved to stay out more than the other moons, likely to continue searching for new opponents to test his lethal skills on. He was the most gifted combatant you’d ever seen, one who used no weapon much to everyone’s surprise. Most Upper demons had a weapon in some shape or form, but not Lord Akaze. He believed in only using his fists to beat down his enemies, believing his strength was better improved that way.

Not that he’d told you all this of course. Another rather peculiar trait about the Upper Three was that he refused to eat women. Whether by choice or perhaps some remnant of his human life, the demon never feasted on women or children, for that matter. He targeted only men, both good and bad. The thought had comforted you at first, thinking he would be the easiest Upper Moon to deal with, but his cold demeanor and gruff attitude always left you feeling as though your very presence annoyed him. Which meant that neither of you ever did much talking, even during the times you were ordered to help him bathe.

You sighed in dismay, resigning yourself to another evening of awkward silence before beginning to prep for his arrival. The lights were on, the bath was running, and you had fresh towels and soap at the ready. Fortunately, Upper Three wasn’t picky about scents or materials or anything really so you were saved from running around like a chicken with its head cut off as you scrambled to find things that were to his liking. Truly, you knew your situation could be worse. You knew how cruel demons could be, and if there was one thing Lord Akaza was not, it was unnecessarily cruel.

A loud thud sounded from outside the room as something hit the floor with enough impact to send cracks through the wooden bridge. You gasped, tripping over yourself to prevent one of the scented candles you’d lit from falling over, glaring over your shoulder in the direction of the door. By the time it opened though, you were on your knees, bowing perfectly as you knew was required. Lord Akaza said nothing, only standing there looking down his nose at you before stalking into the room, not even bothering to close the door. As he passed you, he sniffed a few times, releasing a “tch”, but still, he didn’t order you to get up. You decided then that you would rise, confident that he wouldn’t hurt you. But he couldn't damn well leave the door open while he was buck naked, though you knew no one would dare peek, save for Lord Douma. You stood and slowly walked to the door, feeling his eyes burning into your back, choosing to quietly slide it shut. You turned around to face him, eyes downcast, hands clasped in front of you.

“Did Lord Muzan order you to come?” he demanded, though you knew he already knew the answer.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied, voice a notch above a whisper.

“Then you are here to help me bathe again?” he asked, fists clenched.

“Yes, my lord,”

“You do this for the others right?”

“Yes, my lord,”

“Is that all you know how to say?” he growled, but you only replied in that same whisper.

“No, my lord,” you fought the urge to giggle, knowing it could very well mean your life. While Akaza wouldn’t hurt you, he only needed to mention a hint of insubordination to Lord Muzan and you’d be dead.

Akaza sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before abruptly turning and walking closer to the now full tub. As he began to undress, you walked forward, hands outstretched to grip his haori, but he roughly slapped them away.

“I can undress on my own,” he snapped, continuing until he was naked, save for the beaded bracelets around his ankles.

He was strong with a thick, muscular body, and the dark tattoos that ran across it were like a road map begging to be explored. Even covered in blood as he was, he was still handsome. A dust of pink hair sat just above his cock, and you looked away before you could see anymore. When you glanced back, you saw him looking away as well, the tips of his ears tinged red. You blinked in surprise before shaking your head, focusing on your job.

“Would you like me to remove your beads, my lord?” you asked, gesturing to his ankles.

“No,” he snapped, “Let’s just get this over with,”

He turned and stepped into the tub, wasting no time before he began splashing water over his torso, and you rolled up your sleeves quickly, grabbing the soft wash cloth you’d picked out so you could lather it with the soap. You started with his back, rubbing gentle circles all over the hard muscles, washing away the blood and eventually, the tension as well. He relaxed under your touch, unconsciously leaning into it as though you were kneading away all his worries. You weren’t sure what all an upper moon could really be worried about given that they were essentially at the top of the food chain, but it wasn’t your place to think about it. Instead, you focused on running the cloth over the rest of his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms, trying to be as thorough as possible with him. The wash clothed dipped into the water as you scrubbed his legs as well, beginning at his ankles, carefully maneuvering over the beads on his ankles. Your hand and cloth continued its path up his legs, and over and around his thighs.

Holding your breath, you brushed the cloth quickly over the hair above his cock simply because you had to, but just as you pulled away, a thick hand circled your wrist. You gasped, looking up to Akaza glaring at you, face flushed, ears tinged pink again.

“Watch it,” was all he said before releasing you to drop his hand back into the water. You murmured an apology and continued up to his chest, leaning over into the tub slightly to reach his other side.

“I have heard things about you,” he mumbled, “That you do…things for the other two,”

“I am not sure what you mean, Lord Akaza,” you replied, ringing the cloth dry and laying it over the side of the tub.

“Don’t act stupid,” Akaza snapped, “Are you a whore?”

You jerked back at the harsh word, staring incredulously at the upper moon. A whore? No, certainly not. A servant, yes, but it wasn’t your fault that you’d been forced into this position, and it certainly wasn't your fault that you were forced to attend someone who so obviously didn't want to be attended to.

“No, my lord. I only do what I am ordered to do. What I think, what I say, are irrelevant. My only role is serve,” you said stiffly, trying hard not to snap.

“Hmph. I see,” he said, golden eyes gazing at you with an intensity you’d never noticed before.

“Are you ready to dry, my lord?” you asked, pulling one of the folded towels from the stack.

He nodded yes, but made no move to stand, so you merely walked over and knelt by the tub to begin drying his shoulders. A hand flashed out to grab a fistful of your kimono, and you shrieked as you were suddenly yanked into the tub. Tepid water filled your nose, and you sat up on all fours, coughing and spewing water from your mouth. Blinking away water droplets, you gazed at Lord Akaza in shock, but he only tilted his head to look at you as though confused on how you’d ended up in his bath.

“Your kimono is wet now,” he said obviously, and you blinked at him, shivering in your now wet clothing.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied simply because you had no idea how to respond.

“You should take it off then,” he said, and you jerked back.

“I…I’m sorry? My lord?” you sputtered, not believing what you were hearing.

“No apology needed, just take it off. You can’t very well attend me if you’re dripping water everywhere,” he said before suddenly rising out of the water, sloshing even more of the clear liquid onto you.

He towered over you, hands at his sides, but you were now eye level with his cock. His now very hard cock, that was dripping what you hoped was water, but given your recent experiences, you knew you were simply being delusional on that front.

“It’s not like you really need clothes to do your job anyway,” he said, gazing down at you expectantly.

You stared up at him, hands wrapped tight around the now ruined kimono, but eventually, you swallowed hard and steeled your nerves. Shaky hands fumbled with the obi of your kimono, but you undid the knot as quickly as possible, slowly peeling away the material from your body. You pulled it off of you, and wrung it dry as best you could before setting over the edge of the tub next to the rag. You kept your eyes glued to the water, watching the ripples roll through your reflection. You crossed your arms in an attempt to hide your hardened nipples, and Akaza chuckled above you. Water dripped off of him, though the cold didn’t seem to bother him one bit. You watched a droplet make its way down from his neck, over his abs, to finally fall and split apart on his cock that bobbed upwards towards his stomach.

“I’ll…I’ll dry you now, my lord,” you whispered, reaching for the discarded towel on the floor, but he grabbed your wrist again, moving your hand towards his crotch.

“That’s not what I want you to do,” he said, wrapping your fingers around the thick member.

“My lord I-”

“You did it for Kokushibo. You did it for that bastard, Douma,” he ground out, teeth clenched, “Why not me?”

“You do not like me very much,” you responded, eyes downcast though you didn’t try to move your hand, not with his fingers still wrapped around yours.

“If that’s what you really think, then you truly are a silly little she-demon,” he responded, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Pleasure me,” he demanded, removing his hand from yours only to move it to the back of your head. He swiped at the hair stick that kept your lock at bay, letting them fall freely. Thick fingers weaved their way through the silky strands, forcing your head closer to his erection. With no choice but to obey, you closed your mouth over his cock, unable to stop him from pushing you down until your nose brushed his pink pubic hair.

A deep groan escaped him, and the perpetual tension that seemed to plague him constantly faded away. You felt him spasm in your mouth, and the hand in your hair only tightened, the force pushing your head down on him increasing. The hand that had once closed around him tapped his arm gently, and he looked down at you, eyes full of lust and wonder. The shock of such an unusual look on him caused you to forget to breathe through your nose for a second and promptly gagged on his cock.

“Shit,” he said, releasing your hair, hands falling to his sides.

You pulled back, sucking as you did so, letting your mouth come off him with a light ‘pop’. He swallowed hard, fists clenching and unclenching as though he desperately wanted to grab you again, but he remained still, allowing you to keep going unbothered by home. You went down on him again, taking one hand to grip the base of his cock. You squeezed him as you moved up and down, being sure to run your tongue over his tip to swipe away any precum that leaked out. He was swaying on his feet now, face flushed, eyes glazing over slightly. You increased your pace, now emboldened, moving to engulf him fully with your mouth as many times as you could. He yelped when your teeth nicked him, but he didn’t berate you like you thought, instead, he appeared even more intrigued by the idea of it. You felt him spasm in your mouth once more, and you knew he had to be close, deciding to bring up your other hand to tease his balls as you moved your mouth.

“Ah…fuck, I’m going to…not yet. I want it in you…” he gasped out before he pulled away from your grip.

You were being lifted then, tossed over his shoulders like a bag of vegetables rather than a person. He gracefully stepped out of the tub, stalking over to his bed on the other side of the room. One moment you were staring at his shapely ass, the next, you were on your back, eyes on the ceiling. The pink haired demon crawled onto the bed, pulling you closer with a bruising grip on your hips. He parted your legs easily, pinning one down with a hand, the other pushed further away by muscular thigh. He gripped his cock with his free hand, positioning it at your entrance, rubbing it into the slick that leaked out.

“I’ll warn you only once,” he said, pushing inside slightly, “I don’t know how to do it like them. I won’t be gentle or graceful in any way,”

You wanted to remark that they were neither of those things during sex, but instead, you gazed up at the upper rank with doe eyes, mouth parted, lips still covered in sweat and saliva.

“I can take it,” was all you needed to say before he was pushing in, spearing you with the entirety of his cock.

He threw his head back, moaning in ecstasy, removing his hand from your leg to brace himself on the bed. His other hand came to rest on your stomach, feeling his thick member within you. You were biting your lip to keep from crying out at the sudden fullness from his thick cock. He’d looked thick, and had felt thick too while you had him in your mouth, but even after being with Douma and Kokushibo, you weren’t prepared for how much your walls seemed to stretch out over him. Akaza enjoyed the way you clung to him every time he pulled out, and he fucked into you hard and slow for a moment, relishing in the feeling. He pulled one leg up over his shoulder to grip your thigh, pressing it into his chest. His lust filled eyes turned dark, and he licked his lips as he gazed down at your naked, helpless form. Then, he was fucking you with short, hard thrusts that pushed inside you fully. He got up to a relentless pace that had your entire body shaking each time he slammed home, and soon the only sounds that filled the room were the rhythmic slap of skin on skin and your breathy moans. Akaza grunted as he fucked you, seeming focused on stamping his entire existence into the skin of your entrance.

“You…magnificent creature…” he moaned, “I want your cum. All of it. All over my cock,”

He growled, bucking into you harder like a ravenous beast. His hands gripped your leg tightly, almost painfully, but you were lost in pleasure, no longer hiding your moans.

“That’s it, little demon. Let me hear you…fuck! I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, moving one hand to rub circles into your clit.

You barely heard his words, the thumb rubbing your clit pushing you closer and closer to that delicious pleasure your body seemed to always crave here lately. Heat pooled in your lower half, and you gasped, fists clenching the sheets as he continued to fuck into it, relentless in his pursuit of his own pleasure. This continued for a moment, and then, the dam broke, as your orgasm reverberated throughout your body.

At the same time, Akaza reached his own climax, slamming into you harshly, and growling out a deep curse. He pulled out, spraying thick ropes of cum onto you, covering your entrance and stomach with it. He smiled at the sight of you, breathless and spent, covered in his cum. You lowered your hand, swiping one finger through the liquid lazily, before bringing it to your mouth so you could suck it off greedily. His eyes darkened more, and in a flash, he grabbed the discarded towel to wipe you off quickly before flipping you onto your back.

“As if I could live with only a single taste of you,” he whispered before entering you again much to your glee.

Chapter Text

“Ugh,” you grumbled as you stepped in a particularly deep puddle, muddy water soaking your tabi and the edge of your kimono.

The torrential downpour had been completely unexpected and unwelcome, but you had a job to do and weren’t going to let a little water stop you. Injured demon slayers from all over stopped by your home as well as the other homes across the country that bore the Wisteria crest. The symbol of a safe haven for any and all demon slayers. Years ago, your family had been saved from death by a fire breathing angel wielding a deadly sword. Yoriichi, the first sun breather, had swept into your life like a whirlwind only to disappear like a snuffed out flame before you could even blink. In the time since that fateful moment, you’d transitioned from an awkward teenage girl to a full grown woman complete with an education in medicine, a rarity for a woman. You were well past the age girls usually married, but you didn’t mind, choosing instead to dedicate yourself to the demon slayer’s cause.

You proudly did your duty, tending both villagers and demon slayers alike along with your aging father and doting mother. Usually, the three of you were too busy to run errands, but today had been different. Your family’s typical delivery man had disappeared on his way to visit a friend of his in a nearby village the day before yesterday, and medical supplies were a must have in your household. All three of you knew exactly what fate had befallen the poor man if any of the passing demon slayers were to be believed.

“I tell you, that demon…It was something else! It's a damn miracle we made it out alive,” one slayer said, wincing as you patched up a deep gash on stomach.

‘It wasn’t a miracle! It was just satiated at the time because it had already eaten Yachi…” another said, shaking like a leaf in the borrowed kimono he wore.

“And Gen…” he turned to look at his barely breathing, unconscious friend next to him. The poor kid had more bandages than skin on right now.

“He’ll be fine,” you soothed, “Just needs a lot of rest and good food,”

“I hope they send that one guy. The really strong one. Yoriichi, I think it was,” the one you were patching up said, making your heart flutter.

As awful as demon attacks were, and as much as you didn't want anyone to be hurt, the idea of Yoriichi being so close sent a thrill of excitement through you. You secretly hoped he’d stop by before making his way to his next mission.

That conversation had been almost a fortnight ago now, and your hopes were dim. So, here you were, walking down the muddy road to your house on the outskirts of town, rain pouring down and soaking you to the bone. When you finally dragged your heavy feet up the steps to your house, you resembled a bedraggled, wet cat more than a human girl. You were so tired that you almost missed the extra pair of zori outside the doorway, a sign that your home had a visitor. The sight made you pause and strain your ears, listening. Inside, you heard the familiar slow, rumble of someone’s voice, and you smiled, shoving the door open,stepping inside, smile already on your face to greet the passing slayer.

The person who stood talking with your father was a head taller than your father, with long, red-tinged hair that cascaded down a broad back. He wore a deep red haori over his yellow kimono, and the hanafuda earrings rattled slightly as he turned to peer at you alongside your father.

“Oh, daughter! I’m glad you’re home safe. Look who it is! Tsugikuni-san is here for the night. I told him you-”

“Your father’s voice was cut off as you slammed the door to your home shut.

The mud and rain didn’t matter to you anymore. What mattered was that you looked like a half drowned rat and had just come face to face with the man you’d been in love with since you were seventeen. The rational side of you knew it was silly to have feelings for someone you’d met once and had never spoken to, but how could you not have fallen in love with a man who’d saved your life? He’d spoken so gently to your family then, coaching them on how to avoid an attack like this in the future, telling them to put the wisteria symbol on our door so slayers would know we were friends. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you stood there, part of you hoping this was all a dream, the other half hoping you’d open that door and come face to face with the one person you’d been thinking about for years.

The door slid open slowly, and there he stood in all his intimidating glory. Yoriichi only stared down at you with a blank look on his face. You stared right back with wide eyes, a million questions running through your mind, but you lacked the courage to voice them, opting instead to stare into his dark eyes. He said nothing, so you said nothing, and then his hand was moving to slip the straw basket off your back. The weight of the thing lifted, making you realise just how heavy it was. You stared in shock as he carried it inside without a word, much to the dismay of your parents who immediately tried to take it from them. He waved them off gently, carrying the basket all the way to the clinic without breaking a sweat, a testament to the muscles hidden beneath his loose clothing.

You slipped out of your shoes, stepping inside and closing the door in a hurry. Your father and mother were still talking to him, and you could hear him responding slowly, but couldn’t make out the words. The next few hours passed in a daze, with you somehow sitting through dinner with both your parents and Yoriichi. He’d ended up sitting next to you, and you blushed, realizing the set up was similar to a young girl introducing her parents to a lover. He ate quietly while he answered your parents unending questions, yet he never once lost his temper at their pestering. You admired him for that as you ate, watching him from the corner of your eye.

You were aware that many people thought him emotionless, many slayers going so far as to call him a ‘demon slaying doll’. The words made you angry, knowing someone who defended humanity from demons could never be heartless. You’d seen what true lack of emotion looked like, usually on soldiers suffering from the after effects of a particular battle. But your memory was sharp. You had seen Yoriichi’s face as he’d beheaded the demon that had been threatening your family. The eyes are windows to the soul, that much you knew, and Yoriichi’s eyes in that moment had been filled with pure rage as he swung his sword to give the killing blow. Even now, as he sat next to you, you could see only content in his eyes, as though simply eating dinner with your family was enough to bring him happiness. It made you wonder what kind of family he might have once had and what had happened to them to make him feel that way.

As evening fell, you found yourself preparing a steam bath for first him, then yourself. He declined help undressing and bathing, as you expected, and so you found yourself curled up on your futon, wondering if you’d ever see him again after tonight. Most slayers were early risers and left before breakfast, and you had no doubt he would be the same as humble as he was. It was as if he did not want to burden us with his presence, though he could have stayed a whole month and none of your family would’ve complained.

Sleep almost had you in her claws when the sound of metal swishing through the air reached your ears. It was faint and barely detectable, meaning the slashes had to be unnervingly fast and sharp. As quietly as you could, you tip-toed your way out of your room and down the hall, where you knew Yoriichi was meant to be sleeping. You slid the door back, just enough to peek inside with one eye, mouth agape at the sight.

Yoriichi stood in the center of the room, futon folded in the corner neatly. He’d shed his haori and kimono, opting to keep his hakama on. The muscles in his back and arms rippled as he practiced his sword movements, the graceful fighting style making your eyes widen in awe. He truly was a master swordsman, and you wondered if it was even possible for a demon to injure him. According to your parents, he’d shown up with not a scratch on him, but the mud and grime on his clothing and face had been proof enough that he’d been out slaying. You swallowed hard as he lunged forward, sword swinging through the air with a force hard enough to send a ripple of air into your eye. You jerked back, rubbing at the stinging organ, and when you finally blinked away the discomfort, you yelped. Yoriichi stood at the door, peering down at you with his head tilted to one side. His eyes bore into you as though he could see you entirely even though the sliver in the door, but still, remained silent. Guilty, you slid the door open more, and bowed deeply.

“Forgive, Tsugukini-san. I only wanted to make sure you were well…” you said sheepishly.

It technically wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t have an excuse for why you’d chosen to sit there like a peeping tom. Embarrassment flushed your face, and you kept your eyes downward, refusing to look up at him. The silence stretched on and on, to the point where you were internally screaming for him to say something, do something.

Yell, snap, scream. Please, you thought.

The thud of footsteps against the wooden floor filled the room, and you peeked up to see Yoriichii walking over to kneel at the zataku. His sword was sheathed and at his side, but he only turned to look at you, head tilting towards the neatly folded cloth and basin on the table. You took the hint, scrambling to your feet to grab the bowl and hurry off to fill it with clean water from the well. The rain had stopped, thankfully, and it didn’t take long before you were returning to his room, sliding the door shut quietly. You shuffled over to him, hesitating for a moment, before sweeping his long hair off his back and over his shoulder. The locks were soft in your hand, the ends curling a bit, and you longed to run your fingers through them. The silence persisted as you began wiping the sweat off his back, still surprised he’d asked for your assistance, but you didn’t question it.

“Is the room to your liking? I could fetch some different bedding if it isn’t or you could sleep in my room tonight. I don’t mind taking the flo-”

“There is no need for that. A man like me…I am barely deserving of a bed in your house, much less a room,” he responded quietly.

You blinked in surprise, not liking the self-deprecating tone of his words. Eyes arrow, you continue to swipe the cloth over his shoulders, moving his hair out of the way as you did so.

“My apologies, Tsugukini-san, but I must disagree,” you said quietly, picking up another cloth to dry him.

“I think you are deserving of an entire palace,” Task completed, you folded the clothes and laid them on top of one another at your side. Then, you slid back while still on your knees, to slowly fall into a deep bow.

Head pressed to the floor, you whispered, “I’d move the heavens and the earth if it meant you’d realise how valued you are,”

The floor creaked as he turned to face you, one hand tapping your shoulder. You slowly raised your head to peer up at him, and the same hand found its way under your chin to tilt your head up further. His dark eyes bore into yours, full of questions and confusion. You hoped yours looked sincere, and as his eyes flickered down to your lips, your tongue darted out to wet them. That made his eyes darken with something else entirely.

“You would offer such kindness to a mere stranger?” he asked.

“You are no stranger. I know your name, your face, and your heart, even if I do not know your past,” you replied confidently, sitting up.

His hand left your chin, one long finger trailing down your neck and through the valley of your breasts. It moved up and stopped over your beating hurt, and he laid his palm flatly there. For a moment, neither of you moved, both too caught up in examining each other to really notice the precarity of your situation. Here you were, an unmarried woman with an unmarried man that was not set to be your husband.

It seemed the two of you decided proprietary be damned at the same time as you both surged forward to crush your lips against the other’s. His strong hands wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against his body, and your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as though you feared he’d disappear at any moment. His hanfuda earrings tickled the bridge of your nose as you moved to trail kisses from the shell of his ear down his chest, eventually finding the dusting of hair that disappeared into his hakama. His breathing quickened as you neared his obi, and you gently tugged at it with one hand. The knot came undone easily, and Yoriichi gasped as you slowly pulled down the fabric to reveal his already hard cock. Your eyes widened at the size, though given the size of the rest of his body, you supposed you shouldn’t have been all that surprised. One hand wrapped your fingers around the base of it, squeezing slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as he yelped quietly in response.

He bit his lip to keep from crying out as your tongue traced the length of him, but your eyes narrowed at him in annoyance.

“I want to hear you,” you said, hoping he would comply.

His face was still expressionless, but now had a red flush across his cheeks. Satisfaction filled you with the fact that he wasn't immune to your charms. A bit of precum trickled out of the tip and you wasted no time in swiping it up with your tongue, an act that made both him and you moan in appreciation. Yoriichi, as calm and collected as he usually was, was not so passive a man to let you tease him as you wanted. Strong arms gripped your waist to haul you up to him, your legs on either side of him. He stood up with a grace you wouldn’t have thought possible for a man of his size to accomplish and walked you both over to the soft futon you’d laid out for him only hours before.

He kneeled between your legs, cock straining against his stomach. Lust filled his eyes, and you smiled at the sight, making him give a small smile as well. The rare sight brought tears to your eyes, and he leaned down to kiss them away, as he tugged at the knot in your obi. The kimono you wore to bed came undone, exposing your breasts to him. Eyes alight in surprise, he chuckled.

“No juban?” he asked, and you shook your head sheepishly.

“Too…too hot for one,” you said, not wanting to tell him it was much easier to touch yourself in the late hours of the night without the extra layer of clothing in the way.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he whispered, taking his time with his exploration of your body.

Hands encircled your wrists to pin your arms to the bed as his tongue explored every inch of your body from the crook of your neck to the valley between your breasts. Down, down he continued, that damn tongue still lapping at the sweat that now frosted your skin as he went. He made his way down your navel, stopping just above the place your kimono still kept hidden, where it hadn’t fully come undone. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access to you, and he gently pulled the fabric apart, exposing your sex to the cool air. He licked his lips in anticipation, blowing slightly on the sensitive area, the sensation rippling through your entire body.

His tongue darted out to nudge your swollen clit, and he chucked at your whimpers. The sight of your teary eyed, flushed face must have been enough to send him over the edge because then his hands were on your hips, dragging you upwards so your entrance met his mouth. You were almost in the air, with only your head and shoulders still on the futon. He gripped you tight as his tongue plunged in and out, nose brushing against your clit slightly as he moved. Your toes curled, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around his head, but one hand moved from your hip to your thigh, pressing the limb to the side of his head, encouraging you. You eagerly complied, wrapping your legs around him and moving your hips against him, uncaring that you were practically humping his face. His nose dug into your clit as his tongue continued to ravish you, and you felt an orgasm building deep within you. It wasn't long before you were coming on his face, body spasming with the force of your pleasure, and Yoriichi held on, riding it out the entire way, dark eyes never leaving your face as he did so. When it was over, your body felt like jelly, and he lowered your limp body to the bed, spreading your legs with his knees.

There were no flowery words from Yoriichii or sweet promises of pleasure and love. He simply entered with one quick stroke, spearing you with his full length without mercy. It wasn’t that he intended to be rough, more like he had lost himself in your body and was uncaring of anything but yours and his pleasure. His brow furrowed with effort as he thrust in and out of you, holding you in place on the bed to keep you from skidding across the soft linens with the force of his love making. He crashed into you over and over like a wave against the jagged rocks in the sea, unyielding and constant, and your hand covered one of his that was on your hips. He lifted your joined hands to his mouth, peppering kisses on each of your knuckles before leaning down and capturing your mouth with his own.

The kiss was deep and passionate, and he dominated that too, letting you up for air only at the very second. He devoured you, and you opened yourself to it. He lifted you up, cradling you close as he began a deeper, harder pace, hitting a spot inside you no man had ever found before. Your moans were breathy and loud, uncaring that your own family might hear you being pleasured by this man. He silenced you with a kiss once more, increasing the pace of his thrusts. You felt him spasm within you, and he growled, slamming home once, twice, then remaining buried within you as his orgasm rippled over him. Your own quickly followed suit, and you felt your walls clench around him, milking his cock for every drop.

When it was done, he gently laid you back down on the futon, slipping out of you slowly. His cum spilled out of you, but he was on his feet to grab the cloth from earlier faster than you could blink. He knelt by you, spreading your legs with one big hand to swipe the cloth over your most sensitive areas.

“You are exquisite,” he murmured, “I am unworthy,”

“Don’t say that,” you said, “I gave you this becauseM you are worthy,”

He smiled slightly, discarding the cloth on the floor. His large body wrapped around you like a warm blanket of love, and soon, sleep carried you away to dreams full of soft kisses and children with dark hair.

The sun had barely risen when you felt the futon move as Yoriichi stood up and began to dress. You peeked your eyes open, unabashedly examining his body as he moved, wanting badly to go to him and wrap your arms around him, begging him not to go. Too soon, he was sliding his katana into place, and he turned to find you watching him, face contorted with sadness. He smiled gently, walking over to you to brush the stray hairs from your face.

“Must you go?” you asked, gripping his hand.

“I have a duty to fulfill,” he replied simply, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

The sun broke over the clouds then, filling the room with a radiate glow, and you stared up at him. The sun rays brought out the red in his hair, and this time, his smile was bright and full as he gazed down at you.

Then, he was gone, leaving just as fast and silent as he had come.

500 years later

Your eyes blinked open, sitting up in the soft futon, hand clutching your chest as you gasped through the pain. Tears dripped down your face, and a shaky hand reached up to wipe them away. The dream, no, the memory, had left you reeling. The man in your dream…Yoriichi Tsugukini. You knew him, or at least a version of you that had died long ago had. Thousands of pin pricks bombarded your body, as both yours and Lord Muzan’s cells reacted to the mere thought of that man.

Kokushibo knelt at the zataku in his room, sharpening his sword quietly with his back to you. At the sound of your gasping, he turned, six eyes examining your flushed state. His resemblance to Yoriichi was uncanny, and you wondered if they’d been related in some way. Kokushibo had been a demon for a very long time, and it wasn’t entirely unlikely that he had known the skilled swordsman who’d lived so many years ago.

You knew better than to ask, opting instead to rise from his futon and pad over to him. You knelt beside him, head propped on his shoulder, as you attempted to calm your breathing.

“A nightmare?” he asked, setting his sword and polishing stone down. You hesitated before answering.

“Yes,” you finally whispered.

“I will chase it away then,” he replied, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you forward.

His lips met yours, and as you melted into his embrace, all thoughts of Yoriichi left your mind, buried in the memories of your past self.

Chapter Text

In the heart of the Edo entertainment district, Yoshiwara, there were three tea houses that boasted the most sought after oiran in the country: Tokito, Ogimoto, and Kyogoku. Some called them princesses, some called them goddesses, but amongst the other oiran, they had earned the rank of chusan. After many long years of training, you had clawed your way up the ranks to secure your position as the top earner of the Ogimoto house. Though you ranked last out of the three princesses, the coveted title of chusan alone was enough to satisfy your desire to carve a place for yourself in the glittering world of the red light district.

"Thank you," you said softly to the kamuro as she secured the last of many tortoise shell pins in your hair.

Today, you'd decided to make your hairstyle as elaborate as possible in an attempt to please your only client for the day. Not that he'd ever left the tea house displeased. At least, you didn't think he had. You knew him only as 'Kyo-sama', and beyond his ability to smile easy, laugh loudly, and put away a mountain of food, you knew little else about him. You supposed some clients preferred it that way whereas others wanted you to know every detail of their life. Those men, the louder, pushing ones, were usually the ones who felt the need to prove to you that they were worthy of your time and company, though it was truly unnecessary. If you had the money and could be respectful enough, the old madame would give her stamp of approval unless the oiran decided to terminate the relationship.

Before you'd earned the title chusan, you'd never rejected clients for fear of retribution from either them, their friends, or the old madame. Now though, you declined requests to meet all the time without even needing to speak to the old madame that much. If a man so much as hinted that he'd give you trouble, you had him tossed out.

With Kyo-sama though, you had never once felt unsafe or disrespected in any way. Even your sharp tongued and overly critical banto had been mesmerized by his flame-colored hair, cheery eyes, and gentle demeanor. The man had no inside voice whatsoever, which had scared your kamuro at first, but they'd since grown used to it in the months that he had been a client of yours. His monthly visits had started to be something you looked forward to, with him often bringing you piles of treats from his travels. Your rank meant you received many lavish gifts from clients all the time, but the ones he brought were always your favorite. Having favorites as a oiran was dangerous, especially if you still had time left on your contract. You still had debt to pay to the old madame, and until that was gone, you were doomed to life as a bird in a gilded cage. Still, the thought of being bought out by Kyo-sama made your heart flutter, and you often caught yourself imagining what life would be like as his wife.

You shook the foolish thoughts away, the ornaments in your hair jingling slightly as you did so. Work done, the kamuro quietly took her leave, and now you waited in silence, kneeling in front of the go board. Always, he came as soon as the tea house opened, before the moon fully rose in the sky, and he never asked for anything physical beyond a small peck on the cheek before he left. Instead, it was a few games of go, a small exchange of words, and nothing else besides him watching you enjoy the treats he brought. As a chusan with many artistic talents, you no longer had to sell any part of your body to clients, but there were a few you wouldn't mind giving yourself to, Kyo being your first choice of course.

"Ah! You're looking well, Hinatsuru!" a loud, cheerful voice sounded from down the hall.

You perked up at the sound, beginning to straighten your hair and brush invisible dust from your clothing. You scrambled on all fours to your dresser, staring yourself down in the small hand mirror to ensure not a hair was out of place. Heavy footsteps thunder down the hall, growing louder as the person moved closer to your door. You tossed the mirror aside to scurry back into place, managing to do so just as he rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Come in, Kyo-sama," you said breathlessly.

The door slid open to reveal the golden haired man in all his glory. He was clad in his usual black, the white cloth of his haori billowing behind him as he entered the room. He slid the door shut and bowed in greeting, a smile on his face as he gazed at you. He strode towards you, thick muscles flexing beneath the dark fabric, and he paused only a foot away from you. You craned your neck up to look at him. He truly was a large man, well built, and obviously well fed. His volume and bright personality matched his frame well, and you couldn't help but flash him a brilliant smile.

He beamed right back before suddenly swinging one arm out to you, making you jump at the sudden movement. Clasped in his outstretched hand, was a small cloth bag. The contents of the bag released a sweet aroma after being jostled, and your mouth watered at the thought of whatever treat he'd brought you this time. Sweets were your weakness, and Kyo seemed to exploit it shamelessly.

"Cakes from the best bakery in my home town," he said simply, pushing the bag into your hands.

You stared at the offering for a moment before slowly pulling at the string that tied the bag closed. The urge to rip it open and dig in was strong, but you had a reputation to maintain. The bag opened to reveal small cakes covered in what looked to be a sweet, sticky icing, and you delicately picked one up. You brought the small piece to your mouth and took a bite, savoring the taste. A small moan escaped you, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, eyes flashing up to Kyo's. He only stood there, arms crossed, looking smug as he watched you come undone over a simple piece of cake.

"You have a sweet tooth," he stated obviously in that loud tone of his, and you blushed furiously.

"Yes, Kyo-sama," you confirmed, suddenly feeling more bashful than usual.

"Your hair..." he trailed off, making you perk up in hopes of a compliment.

"It looks as though it pains you. Would you like to undo it?" he asked, your shoulders slumping in disappointment.

Then, one big hand reached out to touch one of the pins in your hair, two fingers pinching the delicate ornament to slowly pull it out of the elaborate bundle. Strands fell across your face, and you gently blew them away which only made his gaze soften.

"Ah...you don't have to do all this for me. I'm not a man worth all this effort from the most beautiful woman in all the land," he said, softer this time as though he'd intentionally brought down the volume to deliver the words as softly as possible.

"You flatter me, Kyo-sama...I only wish to please you," you whispered, not stopping him as he pulled each pin from your hair, undoing all the hard work your kamuro had done. One by one the pins fell, releasing your hair to fall across your face, neck, and shoulders. Kyo didn’t stop until each pin was pulled out.

You remained as still as stone as he worked, not wanting to move and somehow shatter this dream you’d stumbled into. Not once had he given any indication that he was interested in you beyond your talents and company. You were grateful for that in a way, but just once, you wanted to see this man be consumed by the same flames of lust he set upon you.

You were blushing furiously, wanting desperately to nervously fiddle with your hair, but the sticky substance on your hands prevented you from doing so so you focused on trying to get your rapidly beating heart under control. You were a chusan, an experienced courtesan. You knew how to stay in control around a client, but for some reason, Kyo made all your years of training fly out the window.

“You look even more beautiful with your hair free like this,” he said before pulling off his pristine haori. He folded it and laid it on the zataku, gently placing your pins on top. His black jacket followed, leaving him in only the white undershirt and black pants of his uniform. He kneeled before you, knees almost touching yours, and you swallowed hard. This wasn’t how your evenings with him usually went.

“Would you like to play a game of -,” you broke off as your eyes zeroed in on the thick bandages that splayed across his collarbone.

“You’re hurt,” you stated stiffly. A small stain of blood had seeped through to the outer bandage, indication that the wound had to be fairly severe.

“Just a scratch.” he said, waving it away, but your hands were moving of their own accord. Your grabbed his large hand in yours, pulling until his torso was outstretched before you. Your fingers ghosted over the tightly wrapped bandages, the rough material prickling your skin as you did so. Brow furrowed, you frowned at the wound, angry that someone had tried to hurt him and had succeeded. Unbeknownst to you, Kyo’s eyes had softened as he watched you fret over him, a look of fondness crossing his face.

“Forgive my boldness, Kyo-sama, but this does not look like just a scratch,” you said, narrowing your eyes. You couldn’t see how far the bandages stretched beneath the white cloth of his undershirt, but you were betting it at least expanded across his chest.

“I’m honored to have a woman such as yourself be worried for me!” he exclaimed, “But, I assure you, I am quite sturdy. No need to worry,”

“How can I not worry?” you asked, eyeing his katana. The age of the samurai had since passed, yet that was his weapon of choice. Not a pistol, the new age weapon many men and soldiers seemed to favor.

“I’m not sure what you could possibly need to carry around a katana for, but I have no doubt that it is dangerous work that you do,” you said quietly.

“You are right that my work is dangerous,” he said, “But it is my duty. As it was my father’s, and his father’s, and his father’s before that. Always there has been a swordsmen in my family, and I have no doubt there always will be,”

“You are like your father, then?” you asked, stroking the rough callouses of his hand absent mindedly as though you needed a distraction from the thought of him being harmed.

“I am as he was in his youth,” he replied vaguely.

“He must be a good man then,”

“He is,” Kyo assured you, knee brushing yours.

“You are a good man,” you said then, “A good brother too,”

“Perhaps even a good husband,” you continued, biting your lip nervously.

“Hmm,” he said, eyeing you quietly before one big hand wrapped around your wrist to bring your fingers to his mouth.

“Kyo!” you exclaimed, honorifics be damned as he yanked you into his lap.

“I would not mind being your husband.”

His warm tongue lapped at the icing that covered your fingers, licking and sucking on them until they were clean and you were a blushing, stammering mess. He only gazed at you, eyes full of an intensity you had never seen before as you scrambled to pivot the conversation back into your favor.

“I…I only meant…what are you even saying?” you said weakly. His mouth left your hand, moving instead to trail soft kisses along your neck. The high collar of your kimono prevented him from pressing kisses to your collarbone so his big hands moved to untie the obi at your waist.

You gasped, hands flying down to cover his, but he was determined to remove your outer covering. The kimono splayed open, exposing your juban, and Kyo only stared at the undergarment for a moment before ripping it down the middle. A shocked squeak escaped you as he shifted you to where your back was against his chest, his crotch pressed firmly against your bottom. His strong arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer, head buried in the crook of your neck. His chest expanded with a deep inhale as breathed in the smell of the expensive scented oils he’d brought you on his last visit.

“You are exquisite,” he murmured against your skin, “Like a delicate flower in the moonlight,”

“Flowers easily blow away in a storm” you replied, resting your hands on his.

“Not you, though. You weather the storm, clinging with your roots deep in the soil. You wouldn’t have risen to the rank of chusan otherwise,” he replied quietly.

“I want…I want…” he whispered, grip tightening.

You could feel his hard cock against your bottom, and you swallowed hard, wondering if he meant to do more than just hug you tonight. A desperate longing sent a pang through your chest, and you leaned your head back against him.

“A flower made of steel,” he whispered, “How I long to make you bloom…”

“Then do it, Kyo-sama. I am yours, if only for tonight,” you whispered.

That seemed to be all he needed before he was turning you to capture your lips with his. His arms wrapped around you to pull you into him, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist tightly. His tongue trailed your bottom lip, his question clear, and you parted your lips slightly to let him in. The kiss was as intense as you expected it to be: fiery and all consuming. He was gentle, but firm in his domination of the kiss, and he pushed you gently so you were laying on the floor. Your clothing was slowly tugged off of your body, but he left the glittering jewels that adorned your neck and ears. Bright eyes gazed down at your body, drinking in the image of you flushed and spread out before him. He gripped your thighs to slide you closer, pushing them apart as he did so. The cool night air hits your most intimate parts, sending shivers across your body and bringing your nipples to small peaks. Kyo leaned down to capture one in his mouth, the other being kneaded and pinched lightly with one hand. His warm tongue lapped at the sensitive bud, making you bite your lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. He hadn’t even touched your entrance, and yet, you could feel your arousal leaking out of you.

He moved his mouth to the other nipple, ensuring both were properly hard and sensitive before finally he moved his mouth down the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, and through the small mound of hair at your pelvis. He pushed your thighs apart even more, practically pining them to the floor so he could see you in all your glory. He stared at your most intimate part for a long moment, mouth parted in awe. You squirmed under his scrutiny, wanting desperately for him to touch you, to bring that burning desire to a head, but he simply gazed at you, keeping you pinned in place like a captured butterfly.

“Kyo-sama!” you exclaimed, and he only laughed, loud and long before his mouth closed over you.

He lapped at you gently, sucking on your clit with enough force to make your whole body spasm beneath you. Two big fingers pushed inside you to the knuckle and began to curve within you at an angle that felt just right as he continued to tongue your clit. You mewled and writhed on the floor, gazing down at him as he consumed you. His eyes locked with yours and stayed there as he pushed you further and further into a pleasure filled frenzy, free hand keeping you pinned in place.

He lifted his head long enough to whisper, “Kyojuro,” before diving back down to torture you even more. Your eyes widened at the admission, realising the significance of him giving his full name, of finally being allowed to call him the name reserved for only his close friends and family.

Tears filled your eyes as he continued to eat you out, and as your orgasm finally crashed voer you like a wave on the sand, you cried out his name, hands gripping the blonde locks tightly as you rubbed out the remaining waves of pleasure on his face. He smiled as he sat up, face covered in your arousal, and you blushed at the sight, realizing you’d used him shamelessly for your own pleasure. He was a client after all, and it was your job to please him, but he sat there looking like the cat that ate the cream, giving you the impression that he was deeply satisfied. He peeled off his remaining clothing, standing naked before you. As you’d expected, he was all hard muscle and tan skin, but what really surprised you was the amount of scars his body worn. Aside from the one hidden beneath the bandage, he had several littering his arms, legs, and torso with the largest stretching from one side of his stomach to the other as though someone or something had tried to gut him like a fish.

You swallowed hard as you gazed at the scars, a million questions flying through your mind as the sex haze cleared a bit, but Kyojuro was clearly not in the mood for questions. He strode forward and lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to the bed in the corner. He laid you gently upon the silk sheets, wasting no time before situating himself between your splayed legs. One hand pressed the area above your entrance lightly, thumb circling your still sensitive clit, making you squirm. He only smiled before positioning himself at your entrance, letting a few drops of precum drip onto you before he began pushing the bulbous head inside.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…ever since I saw you stuff your little cheeks full of those candies I brought you on our first night together, I wanted to see you flushed and spread out like this,” he said hoarsely, not pausing until he was fully hilted within you.

“You take the preventative, yes?” he asked, and you nodded quickly.

“Then…I hope you do not mind if I fill you up,” he replied, and then he was pulling his hips back only to push back into you harshly.

His thrust was hard and short, barely taking his cock out of you before slamming home once more as though he couldn’t stand being outside of you for a single moment. He fucked you like a man possessed, eyes blazing, hands gripping your waist to keep you in place. Beneath him, you were a moaning mess as both pleasure and pain filled you. The feeling of him inside you was enough to drive you mad, and the harsh pace he set made each wave of pleasure come with a delicious bite of pain. He was being gentle, that much you knew. A man of his strength could easily leave bruises, but instead he claimed you furiously while being sure not to truly harm you.

He pushed your legs together, and without removing himself from you, pushed your closed legs to one side. The change in positon allowed him to fuck you at an angle that had you crying out his name. He smothered your cries with his mouth, kissing you tenderly as he continued to fuck into you. Hrash moans escaped him as eh fucked you, and he reached around to pull you close as he thrustupwards.

“I want…I need to come inside…” he whispered, but you were too out of breath to give him an answer. Instead you felt your walls clamp down on him,and he threw his head back to release a deep groan before his pace increased.

The relentless pace jostled you harshly, and he gripped you tightly to keep you from escaping his love making. The tension that had been blooming in your lower body was coming to a head, and you cried out as your orgasm exploded around you, back arching against his front.

Kyojuro’s responding groan was followed by a rush of thick cum that filled you endlessly. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he came, thanking you, complimenting you. The words made you smile, and you relished the feeling of his cum inside you, enjoying the feeling of it leaking out when he finally removed himself from within you. For a moment, the two of you laid there in content silence, the scent of your love making filling the room. The moon was high in the sky now, and Kyojuro only sighed into your hair when you mentioned that. Usually, he would’ve been long gone, perhaps off to fight whatever demons that had given him those scars.

“I do not want you to go,” you whispered to him as he sat up.

He turned to look down at you, one big hand stroking your cheek softly. His eyes were soft and full of care as he attempted to reassure you.

“I will come back,” he said, “I will always come back to you,”

“I…I know it’s selfish,” you said quietly, “But I want you for more than one night,”

“One day, perhaps. When I can retire…” he said, trailing off, eyes now filled with sadness and remorse.

You knew then that there was truly no future for you with him. He was a swordsman, and whatever enemy he was fighting was nowhere near defeated. He had a duty to first himself, and you had your contract. The reality of your situation made tears fill your eyes, and you turned away from him, biting your shivering lip. He leaned down to kiss away the few drops that escaped your eyes, before getting up to get dressed. Too soon, his katana was sliding into place, and you sat up, not bothering to cover yourself. He smiled, tracing one finger over the marks he’d left on your body during your lovemaking, and you blushed, realizing there would be no way to keep them fully hidden from clients.

“I must go now, but I will return,” he said, kissing you on the forehead before turning away to stride to the door.

“Ah! I almost forgot!” he exclaimed, turning back to pull a letter from within his uniform.

“Here,” he gently placed the thick envelope in your hand, “I am entrusting this with you. My friend will be by to pick it up,”

“Your friend?” you asked, brow furrowed.

“Mhmm. A swordsman, like myself. He is kind, but very quiet,” he explained, smiling at the memory of his companion. The door slid open and he stepped out into the hallway, the noises from the rest of the tea house breaking the bubble of peaceful silence you two had created.

“What is his name?” you asked before he slid the door shut.

“Tomiyoka Giyu,”