Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna
Word count: 1,7k
Masterlist
AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart
Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)
There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground.
Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?
Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines.
Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.
“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position.
You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching.
And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.
“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.”
The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?
“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.
You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.
The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.
This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.
“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd.
“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.
“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.
Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom.
You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.
“Very well.”
Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.
His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -
With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.
All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.
Only if you let him know, that is.
You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.
So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him.
You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do.
Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber.
You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.
That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration.
At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.
“Everyone, out.”
He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.
And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.
The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World.
“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.
Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”
Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.
“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?”
“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed.
You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.
Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.
“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”
“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”
Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.
“Has a cat got your tongue?”
Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size.
You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.
“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.
Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”
His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.
The devil didn’t bargain, after all.
“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”
Hello! I saw you share your crocheted/knitted (?) Gävlebocken, and I'd like to ask if you wrote down the pattern or if you winged it? Or even if you found a pattern somewhere? Would you be willing to share it?
I'm not that good yet to wing a pattern and I've been wanting to make Gävlebocken 👉👈
Hello!! I’m 1000% with you I super am not good enough to wing something like that haha. I’d be so happy to share the pattern I used!!
I think I had originally found it on a post here somewhere but I found a new link to it. But it’s a free pattern from a Swedish crochet site(?) that I think originally came with a kit they sold but now the pattern’s just available in multiple languages for free. I’ll link both the pattern doc itself and the main website—fair warning tho that the website is fully in Swedish so it’s a little tricky to navigate.
Something I did notice while making it is that since the English pattern is a translation, some of the instructions can be a little tricky to follow, but it’s doable if you really take your time reading each instruction. The only time I got stumped for a bit was making the legs and it said “now crochet in the front loops only and, *at the same time* sc2tog 4 times evenly spaced around = 38 sts remain” Now I did some math about it and found that the round should go like this: sc2tog(decrease), sc 9, sc2tog, sc 8, sc2tog, sc 9, sc2tog, sc 8
The way it’s written may make sense to you but it confused me so badly I wanted to make sure I shared that with you too just in case!
Link to crochet pattern doc: https://www.jarbo.se/createpdf?product_id=38557&store=11
Link to pattern website: https://www.jarbo.se/gavlebocken-92269
GARNKVALITET LéttLopi (100 % ull. Nystan ca 50 g = ca 100 m)MASKTÄTHET Ca 25 m x 26 v med virknål 3,5 mm = 10 x 10 cmTips: Använd det röda g
Best of luck making your Gävlebocken!! Please share when you finish it, I’d love to see it💛💛💛
Tags: fluff, alcohol consumption, post-Muzan era (so minor KNY spoilers?)
Word count: 0,8k
Masterlist
Giyuu and you had gone on your customary monthly date night - to the lively izakaya you had first met at, introduced to each other by Tengen. It was a place that also served good food, other than the good alcohol, which was a definite bonus, but you were not thinking about any of the details of how or why you became a couple.
How could you, when Giyuu seemed to be deep in his cups and looking cute enough to eat?
A slight flush overtook his face some time ago, making you admire him with a bright smile. Your husband was so handsome, wasn’t he?
He took a small piece of food from the shared plate of assorted meats you shared, still a little clumsy with his left hand. He had an adorable frown marring his brow, his lips set in a pout, before he finally managed to successfully bring the bite to his lips, his expression relaxing as he chewed.
He truly was a changed man when drunk.
“I love you,” you told him, still staring at him with a wide smile on your face.
Giyuu paused, blinking a few times, as if he’d just noticed you were there. “I’ll have you know I’m married, Miss,” he retorted neutrally, stumbling over his words a bit, the frown from earlier returning.
His answer surprised you. How much had he had to drink? Before you could tell him you were his spouse in question, he started to speak.
“I’m afraid you have no chance against her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He jabbed his chopsticks in your direction, as his coworker Obanai used to do with his finger, accusatory. “You might be pretty but she’s prettier.”
Laughter bubbled from your throat. “Is she? Tell me more about her, please.”
Giyuu’s frown was replaced by a completely neutral face, the only indication to his intoxication the blush on his cheeks. He was dead serious about ‘his wife’, it seemed. “She’s amazing,” he said breathily, adoration clear despite his expression. “My pearl, gods, what I wouldn’t give to hold her right now…” He looked down on his hand, still holding the chopsticks as it rested on the table, looking like a sad puppy. “She’s so-” he gestured oddly in the air, snapping his chopsticks as he concentrated, “she’s so comfort-shaped.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, your smile turning lovesick as you took in your drunk husband. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? He loved you as much as you loved him.
“She’s my treasure, flashiest treasure - she’s always got this glow, you see?” Giyuu leaned forward as if he were telling you a great secret. “She’s beautiful.” He nodded sagely, agreeing with himself.
You couldn’t help but to ask him a personal question that had weighed on your mind for a time while he was out of it. “Oh, what about her bad traits? Surely, every human has a bad trait? Like, does she snore, or is she annoyin-”
“Absolutely not!” Giyuu looked offended at that. “My wife- my wife and annoying? No, never. Never ever-” he slurred his speech a little, waving his chopsticks threateningly in your face. “And how dare you say she snores! My pearl only ever releases the sweetest sounds known to man, but you-” he pointed at you angrily, “-you are hurting my wife’s honor, and I will fight you for that.” As if to prove a point, he jabbed his utensils into one of the meats on the plate and ate it, glaring daggers at you.
You were pleasantly surprised at the valiant defense of your character; it only made your husband more endearing, and you really, really wanted to continue teasing him - especially knowing he would remember this in the morning - but your bladder felt too full to sit still for much longer.
You excused yourself, which Giyuu ignored, still munching on the food with vigor. You kept giggling under your breath as you went to the lavatory, a sense of light schadenfreude making you grin wide, knowing he would suffer in the morning and regret his choices. Now however, you would enjoy the situation.
When you came back, your husband greeted you warmly, recognizing you at last. “Heyyy, my pearl,” he smiled warmly, leaning forward against the table to be closer to you. “I missed you - so much.”
“I just had to go to the toilet, dear,” you reminded him with a soft laugh.
His flushed face scrunched up into a pout. “There was someone insulting you while you were gone. I defended you though.” Giyuu sat up straighter, preening a little, waiting for your compliment.
“Thank you, dearest,” you could only grin at that. Oh, you so would enjoy him remembering the night come morning.
Tags: angst, self-worth issues, fluff, orgy, aftercare, sub reader, sub Makio, soft dom Hinatsuru, mean-ish dom Suma
Word count: 14,2k
Masterlist | Part 1
A crow came flying just as you were leaving the estate for your date. The grimace on Tengen's face signified bad news arrived, a slip of paper in his hands.
"What is it?"
"My… best buddy is in the Butterfly Mansion. Run-in with an Upper Moon."
Since you came back, he'd told you all about his current occupation and standing in the corps. It was fascinating. You’d been removed from the so-called ‘world news’ due to your Mission, so it all came as a surprise. It was also curious how you’d never run into a demon before.
“We can cancel our date. You must be worried…” you offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tengen still looked torn. “If you want, I can go with you?”
And so, your time together was cut short - he took you in his arms and rushed off with an urgency you hadn’t seen since you came home.
The room in Butterfly mansion was decorated with origami cranes; there was a vase with fresh flowers at the bedside. The man, who you came to see, laid on the sick bed and had hair like dancing flames, though partially hidden by bandages. The whole room might have smelled like disinfectant but the overall feel of it was homey, cozy, lived-in; a very colorful display - flashy and flamboyant.
“Well, well, well - look at you. The white of the bandages does bring out your eyes. Maybe you should wear them more often,” Tengen said in a teasing tone, voice a little thick despite his bravado.
His best buddy smiled broadly. “That’s why I wore the white haori, Tengen. It has always flattered us Rengoku men, hasn’t it?” The volume of his speech could barely count as an inside voice; it reminded you a little of your half-deaf grandma, back when she was alive. Perhaps he’d sustained an injury of sorts…
You would be the last person to judge him for that.
Tengen sat heavily on the chair next to his bed as if he carried a crushing burden on his back, while you lingered a few feet behind him, feeling like you shouldn’t be here.
“I’m glad you’re alive. I came as soon as I heard… Though you left for that Train over a week ago. What delayed the news?”
“Shinobu told only my father and brother at first, said I needed the quiet and space - even though I was unconscious! Though apparently, that was pretty bad!” he smiled brightly, as if he weren't in critical condition just a few days prior. The bandage over his eye, half his head and torso down to his abdomen sounded more than pretty bad to you. “Senjuro came to visit me while I was out of it… Though I wish he didn’t have to see me in such a pitiful state.”
Tengen huffed in amusement, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You are certainly a sore sight for my flamboyant eyes, Kyojuro.” The movement revealed your form to the injured man.
He glanced towards you. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”
Tengen smiled brightly. "Right - Kyojuro, this is Uzui [Name], my first wife. [Name], this is Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame Hashira."
"Ex," Kyojuro interrupted. "I guess I was hurt pretty badly! Shinobu told me I'm no longer in any fighting condition."
You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, for it was a question you, yourself, were struggling with. "What will you do now? If you don't mind me asking…" What will I do? How can I channel my energy?
“[Name],” Tengen turned to you, eyes narrowed. He seemed displeased with your question, as if he weren’t wondering the same thing in his mind.
Kyojuro smiled brightly, completely at ease despite your intrusive question. "Why, I’ll do as all retired Hashira do - train new slayers. Perhaps I shall find an inheritor of Flame Breathing as well!" The optimism this man had was unreal.
The conversation faded into a background noise. Train new slayers, he said. You didn’t want to train new shinobi. You’d thought about getting into wifely hobbies, but that only filled your idle hands; not your mind nor stamina nor skills were being put to use, and it was frustrating to say the least. You itched for some action, despite what had happened during your last so-called action.
“-be discharged in about two weeks. Shinobu is assigning a nurse for me until I’m all healed up! And Senjuro will keep me company as well!” The loud and enthusiastic voice of the retired Hashira broke through your thoughts at last.
Tengen glanced at you for a moment, before he faced Kyojuro. “[Name] could help out too. I’ll be going on a mission soon.”
You shot him a sharp look. This was news to you. And rude to offer your company without consulting you first.
“My other wives haven’t sent any messages the past week. Something must have happened, and I need to find out what,” he said in a hush, all traces of good mood gone from his face.
Your heart clenched. He was willing to go for the others when he lost contact. He didn’t just simply assume they were lost. You weren’t sure how you wanted to think about this, how to feel about this. You buried your emotions before they had the chance to surface.
“I see. That is important indeed. Wouldn’t it be better if you took [Name] along though?” Kyojuro looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “You both could work together to collect your wives! Like a date! But a bit more dangerous.”
You pressed your lips together tightly. That was a good question. Why did he not want to take you with him? You’d gained back the lost weight and filled out to your previous body shape. You’d kept up a light work-out regime to get back where you were before the last grueling months at the Mission. Did he not trust your skills anymore? You clenched your fists.
Tengen shook his head, the beads on his headband clinking together. “It would be better for her to stay. My wives were investigating an Upper Moon sighting in an entertainment district. Losing contact is more than bad news.”
Why was he talking as if you weren’t there? You weren't just a breeze, nor were you a doll to be set aside when inconvenient nor were you a painting, to be displayed and kept at home. You were a warrior - a warrior who had the same amount of experience as him. How dare he?
“I’m here, you know? You could have just turned to me and asked. If it’s a red district then my aid would be more valuable - especially to find out about Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio’s whereabouts,” you finally spoke up, your voice flat. “If you remember, my skills lie in espionage, Tengen.”
There was a slight flush on his ears at your scolding. “You’ve never fought demons before, and that’s why you’ll stay and help out Kyojuro. I’ve got things handled.”
"I'm not made of glass. If those three can help you, why can't I?"
"Of course I know you're not made of glass. May I remind you glass wouldn't be able to take my co-"
"Stop," you interrupted Tengen, your face feeling hot. Kyojuro had been watching the two of you escalate the argument, lone eye going back and forth as if he were watching children play with a temari ball. "First of all, this is no time to joke around. Your wives are in danger, our wives-" You were still a little mad he'd gone through a mutually binding sort of marriage, making you the wife of Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio as well. "Second, you know me, you know my skills. You know I can help and that I'm willing to help, despite what happened when I came back-"
"That's a low blow and you know it. I thought you were dead. You forgave me alrea-"
"Shut up while I'm talking, Tengen!" Your chest heaved with your rapid breathing, anger nearly taking over.
Your husband was in no better condition; he used his size to loom over you, trying to intimidate you into submission. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, somewhat more intense than usual. His eyes were slightly lidded but his expression impassive; it was hard to tell if he was aroused, as he used to when you were having an argument in your teenage years, or truly angry.
“You can’t just put me on a shelf like a pretty housewife. You need my help. Admit it-”
“You’re staying and that’s final!” Tengen suddenly shouted, making you flinch. You took a quick step back from him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched, muscles tensed. “You’d be nothing but a burden.”
You froze, breath stuttering in your chest.
He sidestepped you and left the room.
Nothing but a burden.
You’d been nothing but a burden since you reappeared in his life, haven’t you? You crushed his heart, destroyed his home, and you had yet to prove you were worth the complications arising from your presence.
So despite his continuous reassurances, this was how he truly felt…
“[Name]?”
You looked at Kyojuro, his worried expression saying it all. “I’m alright, I just-” your voice broke and you wiped your tears quickly. You hadn’t even noticed when they started falling. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.”
He waved you off with a dim smile. “You’re absolutely fine. It’s my first time seeing my best buddy like this, but all I can say is that it’s not your fault. It was me who stoked the flames when I should have left the matter be, and for that I deeply apologize. If I could, I’d bow to you.” Kyojuro laughed awkwardly before wincing and putting a hand on his abdomen.
All thoughts of Tengen flew out of your head as you stepped closer. “Hey, hey, easy… I think you shouldn’t laugh until that wound is all healed up.” Your belly scar throbbed at the thought of what the former pillar is going through. “Do you need me to call a nurse? Do you need any painkillers?” you fussed over him, sympathizing deeply with his pain.
A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he grimaced. “I think I’m fine. I just need to Breathe a little… Would you keep me company in the meantime?” He gestured to the chair right by his bed.
You hesitantly sat down. "Alright, Rengoku-san."
His smile made you feel at ease. "Excellent. Let me tell you about that one time Tengen and I…."
Tengen left.
He left you there with Kyojuro and went on the mission in the same breath. It hurt more than perhaps his words.
Nothing but a burden.
“Good afternoon, Rengoku-san,” you greeted the man with a smile.
“Good afternoon, Uzui-chan!” he beamed at you. “The Gods have given us the best kind of weather to walk home in, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your mind flashed to the wagon you would be transporting him in. A walk, right… You were given instructions by Shinobu to sedate him if need be. “That is true, and please, call me [Name].”
Kyojuro was already slowly shuffling out of the covers. “Then you may call me by my given name as well! I’m so excited to get home.” His wide smile was infectious, the black eye-patch doing nothing to diminish his bright expression.
Warmth spread through your chest as you helped him to his feet. Kyojuro was such a positive soul; despite your dark thoughts, you never felt lesser with him. You would love to become his close friend, if he’d let you.
“Alright, let’s get you to the cart. Aoi and the girls already packed up all the origami and dried flowers you wanted with you.” You supported him as you walked through the halls of the Butterfly mansion.
“Thanks, for everything. Your presence during my days of recovery cured me of my boredom,” he said quietly, surprising you that he even knew how to talk in such low tones. Perhaps he realized shouting nearby sick rooms of other patients was not polite.
“It was no problem. I enjoyed my time with you.” You two walked out of the mansion. He leaned against a wooden pillar as you knelt at his feet to put on his sandals.
“I apologize you have to serve me like this.” Kyojuro seemed embarrassed.
You shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do it yourself!” You tried to be as positive as he was, making him smile slightly. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you looked at him shyly, face feeling hot.
Kyojuro just beamed at you. “Good thing you’re the kind of friend who helps instead, hm?”
Relief flooded your lungs, allowing you to take a deep breath. “Of course! Now let’s get you home!”
Pushing the cart loaded with a recovering Hashira and thousands of colorful stuff he wanted with him was quite the work-out you haven’t anticipated. The kakushi responsible for such had been called away on an urgent clean-up of a battle scene, and Shinobu personally asked you to do it, so you couldn’t refuse. At least he kept up a pleasant conversation on the way to the Rengoku estate.
A mini-version of Kyojuro was sweeping by the gate when you arrived. You tilted your head, studying him.
“Little brother!”
The boy looked up and smiled brightly, quickly running over, letting go of the broom. “Big brother!” He clutched at the side of the wagon, glancing over the bandages Kyojuro still wore around his torso. “Father wouldn’t let me go see you since you woke up.”
Kyojuro’s smile was like the Sun, if you looked for too long, your eyes would tear up. You had to turn away from the intimate scene, one you weren’t worthy to witness. Why were you even there?
"Senjuro, this is [Name], Tengen's wife. [Name], meet my younger brother, Senjuro," Kyojuro drew your attention back, as if sensing you felt left out.
Senjuro bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kyojuro’s younger brother. Thank you for bringing him home.”
"Why don't you come in for a while? You need rest after such a long journey," Kyojuro offered, already trying to get out of the wagon unassisted, prompting you to move forward to help.
You smiled. “Okay, but only for a little.”
The day wore on, pleasant conversation lulling time into a background blur as you got to know both young men more. Tea was served, then dinner. Your belly hurt from laughter, and your cheeks might as well have been stuck in a permanent grin.
Golden light washed over all three of you as you sat by the engawa, the two little Suns with you glowing in the true setting star.
"Might as well stay the night. The road to Uzui home is long."
Senjuro brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, stay with us! I’ll go prepare a room for you, big sis!” He ran off too quickly for you to react to the bomb he dropped on you. Big sis was a name you’d never heard in your life, yet it made blood rush to your face as Kyojuro laughed, clutching at his stomach immediately after as pain flared from his wound.
Analyze the situation, as you were taught to do while being a shinobi - a kunoichi. Yet you could not take a step back from the emotional turmoil in the stuffy room you were given, and so the full moon saw you sitting on the engawa of the Rengoku estate, nothing and everything flitting through your mind’s eye.
You were alone.
The night felt cold, as if you could never see the Sun again.
Light breeze fluffed your hair, calming the whirlwind within for scarcely a second.
A door slid open. The light clack of a cane told you who exactly it was.
“You’re supposed to be resting, Kyojuro-san,” you murmured, not looking at him.
“I’m not that old to be resting all the time, [Name]-san.” You could nearly hear the grin in his voice. A heavy grunt accompanied his warmth appearing at your side.
“Well, you are still healing. And you might pull a muscle or something.” A smile appeared on your face, the banter distracting you a little.
“Oh, you just know how to kick a man while he’s down.” Kyojuro chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in your bones. “I don’t deserve your teasing, you know?”
“...that is true.” Your smile dimmed a little. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so familiar with him. He was your husband’s best friend, though Kyojuro made you feel so comfortable, so warm - something you didn’t deserve to be, especially when Tengen was out there, in danger, alone.
He was on a hunt for an Upper Moon demon. And you were there sitting on the engawa, doing nothing - when you could have been there, helping.
Nothing but a burden.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Kyojuro-san. I want to be an asset,” you confessed, staring into the darkness, so alike to the one you held inside your heart. You wanted to be cleansed, to be free at last.
And he knew just how to help you. “You know, the next Final Selection is in a week.” Kyojuro grinned. “It would usually be impossible for a normal participant to get ready in a week… You were a shinobi though, weren’t you? Do you know how to wield a blade?”
You nodded eagerly, your hair falling into your face.
“Sit with me then, I will teach you all there is to know about Total Concentration Breathing, [Name].”
“When did you intend to tell us you had a wife before us?” Suma asked, as gently as she could, after exchanging so many glances with the other two as they walked to the Butterfly estate.
The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard; he was actually surprised they didn’t press when [Name] had arrived back into his life, but now wasn’t the time to press this issue. He was dying from demon’s poison not an hour ago, he was exhausted, and Obanai’s late arrival did nothing to alleviate his bad mood.
“I was going to tell you…” Tengen sighed. “I was going to tell you once it stopped hurting.” His heart clenched at the thought of her gone, disappeared, dea- “I didn’t know she’d come back.” He faced the sky, the sun too bright against his lone eye - he now matched with his best buddy, he thought wryly - trying to swallow back his tears.
He didn’t deserve to cry about this, about her. He’d doomed her before he confirmed it himself. In a way, he had tried to redeem himself by how he treated his new wives, but he now saw the error of his ways. No amount of- whatever he was doing right now could have erased his guilt now that he knew she was alive all along. And that hurt more than anything.
The thought that he failed her destroyed him on the inside. Each day he saw her after she came back was agony. When she showed him her scars, he wanted to die, to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it, still beating, as compensation for the horrors she had to live through. And yet… it would not be enough, it would never be enough.
“Tengen-sama…” came Hina’s soothing voice. “We understand it must have been painful, but now that she is here, we need to know more.”
There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow past the emotions and memories resurfacing. Tears pooled in both his eyes, making him wince when the salty liquid touched the wound on his left one. All that ran through his mind when the pain registered was that it was just a fraction of what she felt while she was away on that Gods forsaken Mission.
“We’d met when we were thirteen… still kids but you know how it is in the shinobi world,” he started hoarsely. “It wasn’t long before we started to fall… I saved up all my money and bought the mansion we live in to this day.”
There is one room you can’t enter, under any circumstances, okay?
It was her room, all three realized at the same time, sharing looks.
“It was foolish of us to marry, but I would have done it again. The short time we were truly together was worth it… She was actually engaged when we did it. Forbidden love at its finest.” Tengen’s eye glazed over as he stared ahead, lost in what used to be. He had been happy, both of them had been so happy despite the circumstances. They talked about starting a family, about quitting the life of a shinobi, about running away and never looking back. That kind of thinking bit both of them in the ass very quickly. “Her family was more… displeased than mine. She’d been sent on a suicide mission, though at the time, I had no clue it was that. By the time I found out, she was gone, and I was alone.”
And yet, she’d done the impossible - she came back whole, in one piece, at least physically. [Name] had no reaction to the silk yukata he gave her though, and that bothered him deeply. The bolts of turtle shell patterned fabric had been his wedding gift to her, it had been their hope, their promise, to swathe their first child in it. After her disappearance, it laid abandoned in her room. He couldn’t bear to enter it for years upon years, grieving yet in denial. He wasn't able to fully accept her death, to even think about her at all without weeping like a child.
Perhaps it was fate then, that after young Kamado’s trial, he’d commissioned a seamstress to make a yukata out of the would-be child's fabric on a whim. He wanted to hang it up, decorate the bedroom with it - a reminder and a remembrance, a threat and a promise, to never let any of his wives slip through his fingers like water.
Tengen was blessed though, with your life, he was blessed and he-
Nothing but a burden.
He would never call himself an asshole - would have never called himself one - until you, until that, until he called you a burden.
Gods, he deserved death for that. He never should have uttered those words. How hard he tried to reassure you, to ease you back into being home, to let you slide into comfort and abandon the high-alertness that came with any mission; night terrors woke the both of you in the silence of many dark nights - memories, would-bes, and thoughts plaguing the conscious and unconscious hours of your days.
Tengen had called you nothing but a burden, the words weighing him down now, making him stop and stare into nothingness, a chasm opening in his chest at the realization that no amount of comfort could have prepared you for this, he'd hurt you, broke your trust yet again, using your insecurities against you.
He had no excuse - sans one. He was scared, driven mad by the thought of losing you again and this time - under his watch. He was worried he couldn't protect you as he had sworn all those years ago.
And now he was the one who hurt you - the only person, who he couldn't protect you from, was himself.
Tengen was the God of Fuck ups, not Festivals.
As shinobi, loyalty was situational; whoever paid the most got it, and whoever couldn’t pay got dealt with.
As a slayer, your one and only loyalty was to humans. No demon should be allowed to live - minus Nezuko - and you planned to make good on those words.
You walked out of the wisteria forest on the seventh day, exhausted, but victorious. You’d been worried about it, since Tengen made even the lowest of demons out to be strong enough to rip you to shreds. That proved to be true - for most humans. You saw a few fresh blood puddles of where the other participants used to be throughout the week. All you could do was offer a quick and silent prayer and move on. The demons you yourself encountered were no match for your skill, though the borrowed half-nichirin half-iron wakizashi wasn’t your usual choice of weapon as a fighter, as a shinobi.
It was time to put such thoughts and memories behind you, move onto better and bigger things.
This time around, ten people managed to pass the Final Selection, including you, though you were by far the oldest. That was fine. Even if you spent only a year, a month, a week before you perished in the line of duty, even if you helped only one person, it was worth it. Suffering was worth it.
It was atonement for a lifetime of dirty deeds under the mantle of the title Shinobi. The whole weight of it was on your back, nearly breaking your spine. But you would endure. That's what's owed to humanity after you tainted it with your deeds in the dark.
Another side of you whispered, you’re still as black as you were before, you can’t find salvation, you are selfish to the core.
And the side was right.
Because your motivation didn’t lie entirely in saving humans, it laid in proving your husband wrong, in showing him you were an asset, never a burden.
You wanted to stand by his side and take on missions together - like how it was always meant to be. Tengen and you, against the world.
“Welcome home, dear student.” Kyojuro’s greeting warmed you to the marrow of your bones.
“I’m home, master.” You grinned at him, and limped over to give him a hug, neither of you minding the dirt and stink of the road.
“Congratulations on becoming a slayer. I’m proud of you.”
By the time your husband and wives were on their way back from Butterfly mansion, you had already stopped limping. You didn't stop training your Breathing in the meantime, trying to achieve using it non-stop as you waited for the arrival of your Nichirin sword.
The house was clean, snacks were prepared, and you found yourself sitting on the porch. Your stomach was full of butterflies, excited as you were to see Tengen again, though you were also a little nervous - you hoped Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru would grow to like you and for that, you needed to give a good impression.
You wore the silk yukata with a turtle shell pattern, an earthy green obi tying it together. You hoped you were flashy enough for everyone, though Tengen gave you the yukata so it must be flashy enough… Maybe you should have changed into something more colorful.
Tengen’s laughter echoed down the road.
Fuck. It’s too late to change. Is my hair messy? Gods, I should have checked-
The gate opened and you shot to your feet, straightening out your yukata in a panic.
Wine red eyes- no, wine red eye stared back at you, an eyepatch covering the other one. Your breath was nearly knocked out of you as you took in your husband. You knew he’d lost his eye and his left hand but reading about it in a letter and seeing it in person were two entirely different things.
You couldn’t stop your legs as you nearly ran to him, jumping into his arms, clutching onto him tightly as tears fell and stained his yukata. You had thought about what you wanted to tell him once he came home, but now that he was here - your mind became blank. You couldn’t think of anything to say, not when he was there, his scent and warmth filling you up in a way air and food couldn’t.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes seemed like hours.
At last, you said, “Welcome home,” in a choked whisper as you calmed yourself a little.
“I’m home.” His voice was near silent; if you hadn’t been so close to him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.
What a way to greet him after such a mission- Oh! You completely forgot about the wives!
You slowly pulled back, face feeling hot with shame when you took a step back, quickly wiping away your tears.
You bowed a little. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m Uzui [Name]... your wife.” Your face was flushed and your hands trembled. “I hope we can get along.”
Suma was the first one to break; she nearly pounced on you, hugging you and swinging you around in a circle. You marveled at her strength as you held on for your life, laughing in delight.
A deft hand flew over your head and hit Suma, who nearly immediately dropped you - the momentum making you stumble back into a warm pair of arms and a very soft chest. It was Hinatsuru who caught you. “Are you alright?”
You regained your bearing, pulling away. “Yes, thank you. Are they-”
Makio was yelling at Suma, who was clinging to Tengen with crocodile tears streaming down her face.
“Uhm, is this the Uzui residence?”
Like moths to a flame, all of you looked to the still-open gate, where a kakushi stood. They had a - your heart skipped a beat - covered katana on their back.
You walked forward, smiling. “Yes, it is, kakushi-san.” You felt light, happy. Your Nichirin sword was finally here.
They bowed to you. “Uzui [Name], I presume?” They took the case off their back and presented it to you.
Your hands shook a little when you slid the cloth off of the sword. The scabbard was black, the grip a burnt orange, the guard in the shape of a flame, reminiscent of the one Kyojuro used to have. Your smile widened, cheeks near burning from the stretch; he must have told his artisan to make it for you.
It seemed the world held its breath for you as you drew the blade.
An ordinary steel greeted you before color bled into it, as if it were your blood fueling it.
A dark gold reflected the rays of the sun before it hid behind a cloud.
Your wives spewed congratulations after congratulations as you stared at your sword with joy. You felt as if you could soar. You laughed in delight as you sheathed the blade, hugging the kakushi, who blushed deeply underneath their mask, and then each of your wives. Happiness flowed in your veins, as golden as the sun, the flames, and the katana.
You Breathed fire. You were beautiful. You were powerful. You felt on top of the world, a goddess sent down to smite the evils of this world.
All this thanks to a single dark gold blade, your very own Nichirin sword.
Tengen could only stare at the scene in front of him, dazed.
He’d left you at home in hopes of saving you, of protecting you from danger he faced every day he went to hunt demons. The katana in your hand indicated he failed, and oh how miserably did he fail.
Did you do this to punish him? Is this your revenge? Retribution for the atrocity of taking more wives?
Nothing but a burden.
Did you truly believe his words - the ones he so stupidly uttered in a moment of madness in that sick room? He didn’t mean them, he never meant them. He knew you were more than useful, you were an asset in every way and form imaginable. Tengen was just scared, so fucking scared of losing you - especially losing you under his watch when he’d just gotten you back.
Fuck.
Did you… consider him unworthy of protecting you? Is that why you sought to become a slayer? To get your own blade and stand apart from him?
Was it a declaration of war on him?
Thousand men may die if so. He never, never meant for this to happen.
And Tengen would find no peace until he got to the bottom of this.
Raindrops fell one by one, creating a harmony of nature. A contrast to the whirlwind of emotions in his heart.
The light drizzle of the afternoon evolved into a lightning storm by the time the sun hid behind the mountains. You were glad there was no tree close enough to attract the lightning or to fall on the Uzui house, or you were sure there would be a big problem on your hands.
The tea room you sat in had been unused for months, clearly, as you had to wipe off some dust off the low table before you could use it. The pillows were clean, which was a blessing. It wouldn’t be able to dry out in this weather.
Though the furniture was traditional, the decorations were not. A few western pieces hung on the walls and there was a small statue in the corner of a naked angel reaching out to the heavens. One painting in particular caught your eye. It was a woman sprawled on her belly over a chaise, book in hand and kicking her feet in the air, clearly enjoying herself. If you squinted, the woman resembled you, a little.
But that wasn’t right.
If you were a painting, you’d be damaged, torn open, paint cracked, and your price would be pain - a price no one wanted to pay.
The door slid open.
All three wives stood there, and Hinatsuru spoke first. “May we come in?” She gave you a small smile, reassuring. You nodded.
Suma squealed and skipped over to the low table, quickly sitting down on one of the cushions; Makio carefully balanced a tray with teapot and four cups, Hinatsuru closing the door after her.
“I heard Tengen left to sleep over at Kyojuro-san’s. Is that right?” you asked, watching them all sit with you as Makio poured you a cup. The fragrance was slightly bitter, but you could easily identify it as mugicha, a barley tea meant to calm the mind.
You could guess why they came to you.
“That’s right. We’ve got a Girls’ Night today!” Suma grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat.
Makio gave her shoulder a light slap, “Shut up, let Hina speak, you idiot.”
“Hina~ Did you see? Did you see Makio slap me?” crocodile tears filled her eyes.
Hinatsuru shot them both a look, making both of them quiet down. She turned to you. “[Name], we’ve talked to Tengen-sama earlier,” she started. Your hand clenched around your cup of tea as your chest grew tighter. “We all know the feeling of looking in the mirror and not being happy with the body we see there. We just want to show you that you aren’t alone, and that in this household, there is no judgment. This household includes you as well.”
You stared at her in silence, in disbelief. You never thought they would be so bold as to approach you about this scarcely few hours after getting home, but on the other hand, it made sense. Tengen’s type wasn’t a shy maiden, even if it held a sort of appeal of its own.
A rustle of clothes caught your attention. Suma turned her back to you and loosened her obi. The short yukata fell to her hips, baring her back to you; there was nothing- until she used her hands to lift her hair. You drew a sharp breath.
An ugly jagged scar stretched from the top of her back up til it disappeared in her hairline.
“This is a pretty embarrassing story actually. Nothing grand at all,” she told you. “I was about sixteen and a spider startled me while training. I fell from a tree - a branch whacked me there, and since then, I have this ugly thing.” She let her hair fall down and sat properly again, a half-smile on her face; it didn’t look right to see her expression so grim and sad. There was a strange instinct to try to cheer her up, yet you remained silent, a lump forming in your throat.
Makio was next, untying her own belt as she knelt, letting her dress pool at her knees. Raised scar imitating torn flesh extended from her bellybutton to her hip, only partially hidden by her fundoshi. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t. “This is only two years old. I was diving in the river with the girls when a current threw me on a bunch of rocks. Long story short, they were pretty sharp.”
She was so nonchalant about such a huge blemish on her smooth skin - it made you feel something, something sharp and unwieldy was lodged in your chest, throat, heart. Your hands trembled as you knocked back the tea and set the cup down quickly, lest you let it slip from your fingers.
You were being pulled apart at the seams, exposed despite wearing the most concealing yukata of you four.
Lastly, Hinatsuru stripped off her own yukata. A scar, unlike the others’, placed very deliberately over her areola. You choked on air, near hysterics.
Warm hands and warmer eyes reached out to you, grounding you as you keened. Because you knew the origin. You were there. You were there on the Mission.
You heaved a dry sob. There was only one thing you wanted to do.
You raised your fingers to your lips, kissing them, and then- the fingertips traced the ragged flesh softly, tracing it with a feather-light touch.
Perhaps you were overstepping, but you wanted to, needed to apologize, to show her intimately how beautiful you found her despite what had happened.
“You are stunning,” you whispered breathlessly, making her own breath hitch. You blinked back tears. “All of you are stunning.”
Suma shuffled closer. “And so are you, [Name].”
Your hand fell away. Perhaps it was foolishness, or bravery, that made you pull your curtain apart, baring your own skin to them.
There were no gasps, no horrified whispers.
Just four women, nearly naked as the day you were all born, sharing their humiliation.
…was it humiliation? Or was it strength to survive despite all the hardships?
"Our point is, each of us have some scars we are ashamed of. Do you think lesser of us for having them?"
You didn't even have to think about the answer. "No."
They smiled. And you realized that you would find only acceptance here, in their soft and tender arms.
Hinatsuru took your non-dominant hand in hers. "Some scars are silly, some scars come from gruesome experiences - but they make us who we are. They are part of us."
Suma took your other hand in hers, squeezing it briefly and lifting it to her lips. Oh so gently, she bestowed kisses on each fingertip, lingering on the scar from the knife tip that caused your abdominal scar.
In that moment, you did not see women - your wives - you saw deities, blessing you with their attention and love. They were willing to carry all your trauma together, to share the burden despite knowing you only for a short time. You had no words, except-
"I'm yours," you whispered, warmth filling your chest cavity, your body feeding on the intimacy, the closeness, the feeling of belonging. "And you're mine."
"You're ours, and we are yours."
If you were a painting, you’d be held together only by the frame - at least, that was how it used to be. Now, with three new wives to support you, you were slowly being put back together, healing at last.
"So… we match now, don't we?" Kyojuro said with a bright smile on his face.
It was the day after Tengen came home, but he couldn’t wait. Despite what he told his wives, he spent the night in an inn, marinating in the wrath he felt, in the hurt and the frustration.
Madness stewed in his stomach, threatening to be regurgitated at any moment. Tengen pushed down his feelings for the moment when he heard steps approaching. “Yes, we do match. Including the retirement and all the free time that comes with it.”
"I see. Well, you have your hands- hand full of your wives. I'm positive you will figure something out!"
A demure voice called out, "Excuse me." A red-haired woman came closer, kneeling behind the men sitting on the engawa and setting down her tray. There was tea for each of the men and a huge plate of steamed bread buns. "I thought you might be a little hungry so I…" she trailed off. Quickly getting up, she all but ran away from them.
"Thank you, dear!" Kyojuro shouted at her retreating back, laughing a little. "That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-"
Tengen wasn't in the mood to talk about his friend's nurse. He was here for business after all. “When did you intend to tell me you made my wife a demon slayer?”
Kyojuro paused, nearly mid-bite into a bun. Deciding to finish taking the bite before speaking, he quickly chewed and swallowed. "Delicious! Hmm, well, I didn't make her a slayer. She became one herself." He took another bite, finishing his first bun happily. "Delicious!"
“Cut that out, Kyojuro. She wouldn’t have become one if someone didn’t teach her Breathing. I know it was you, don’t deny it,” Tengen said between clenched teeth, rage very poorly hidden. Behind all the rage was worry, and fear, for her - yet all he could do was spew poison at his best friend.
“Maybe if you’d listened to her back then, you could have prevented me making her a slayer, in your words,” Kyojuro blew at his tea to cool it down a little. “Besides, [Name] is her own person and she can do as she likes. She wanted to be a slayer, she came to me for help, and I would be a bad best friend if I let your wife go into the Final Selection unprepared.”
Tengen hissed like an angry cat, “She could have gone to me.”
His friend leveled him with a flat look, so unlike his usual sunny disposition. “The last time she saw you before you left, you called her a burden. Imagine how that must have felt. If I were her, I’d be already divorcing you. Really, she deserves better.”
Better. Better. Better.
The word echoed in his mind. She did deserve better; she deserved someone who would support her no matter what, who wouldn’t go behind her back and marry three other women-
His brain circled around those thoughts almost constantly since she came back from that gods-forsaken Mission. What did she see in him that made her stay? Why did she decide to try - to accept their other wives in the polycule?
More importantly, Tengen knew she was antsy, that she needed an outlet long before he left for the red district. Getting back in the field - into the fighting, and the blood, and the hurt - was one thing he also knew he could not support. He’d just gotten her back, and he was supposed to be fine with losing her again?
No.
The answer was no.
He would have never approved of her joining the corps. He was a bad husband. [Name] deserved someone like-
Kyojuro sipped on his tea, looking over the peaceful garden.
-someone like Kyojuro.
“How often has she come to you while I was gone?” Tengen blurted out before he could stop himself.
Your first mission as a demon slayer was very uneventful, the demon being weak and easily tracked down, even despite your inexperience. However, there was a Kakushi that had gotten hurt - completely unrelated to the demon, they stepped into a small hole in the ground and rolled their ankle - so you were carrying them to the Butterfly mansion, which was the closest, or so the Kakushi told you. And they were right.
Once you’d laid the Kakushi down on one of the sickbeds further inside the mansion, where they kept the less severe cases, you didn’t want to walk back through the intensive care wing - especially since it was past midnight. You took a detour through the gardens, where you saw a red-headed young man sit on the engawa.
You looked him over, the bandages standing out against his sun-kissed skin. You knew immediately who it was. “Thank you for being there for my husband, young Kamado,” you said, breaking the silence of the night as you approached him. Kyojuro had told you Kamado Tanjiro had a very good nose; he’d probably been able to smell you long before you came close to him. “It must not have been easy - fighting an Upper Moon.”
Tanjiro looked at you, tilting his head. “Husband? Uzui Tengen has… four wives?” To his credit, he didn’t look as surprised to hear the Sound pillar had one more wife hidden away though perhaps his expression was closer to disappointment.
“It should have been me,” you confessed. “In the entertainment district - it’s what I’ve been trained for, what I was born for, made for.” The bitterness in your voice seeped through.
He gave you a tired smile, “Uzui-san, it couldn’t be helped.”
“I would have helped… He didn’t want me to.” You didn’t know why you wanted to pour your heart out to the boy. There was something about him, something that reminded you of Kyojuro, of safety and home. “I would have been just a burden.”
Tanjiro’s eyes softened, his expression sad, sympathetic to your plight. Yet he could say nothing, he only offered you an ear to listen, to take off your burden at his feet and go on with your life. He reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I spent the time trying to become an asset instead.” Sleepless nights of the week pre-Final Selection came to your mind. You did your best to stop being a burden, and you achieved that; you had your dark gold sword, your Kasugai crow, and your duty.
“I think…” he started uncertain, “You’re a warrior - were one even before you became a slayer, weren’t you? So you have never been a burden, nor a liability. Whoever made you think this way is wrong, Uzui-san.”
His words brought a slight smile to your face. “You’re too kind, young Kamado.”
Despite the reassurance, dark thoughts swirled in your mind. Still, Tengen’s opinion was branded into your mind, into your heart, your body set on fire and burning you alive with the same ache that had pulsed through your veins in the rhythm of your heartbeat when you came back.
Tengen’s opinion hurt you as deeply as his betrayal had.
And it was hard to let go of it.
You were helping Makio with the dishes after dinner when Tengen finally came out with what’s been bothering him.
“Why did you decide to become a demon slayer?” his tone was a barely-restrained typhoon of emotions.
You looked Makio in the eyes, and she understood immediately, drying off her hands on a rag and leaving the kitchen swiftly.
You both knew it was going to be a nasty fight.
“Don’t be mad, okay?” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his jaw gently, since that was all you could reach. Tengen had an unreadable expression on his face for a second before he practically dove in for a deep deep kiss, the force of his urgency making you lose your balance and you lost your balance, his body caging you against the counter.
As swift as a summer rain, the passion turned into anger. He tore himself away from you.
“Why the fuck are you doing this? Are you still hung up on the whole-!” Tengen gestured vaguely in a sharp movement.
You blinked a few times, refocusing on him.
But he didn’t let you answer. “Is this your revenge?” he growled, standing so close he cast shadow over you.
You huffed. “This is no revenge, Tengen. I just-”
“You just what? Your husband left on a life-threatening mission and you go dilly-dallying with his fucking best friend?”
“What? Are you being serious right now?” you could only gape at him, shock freezing you in place. “What the hell are you implying?”
Tengen grit his teeth. “What do you think? A lonely wife, soon to be a widow, in need of a husband. Oh look! There is one right here!”
You chuckled without humor, yet you found the situation wholly hilarious nonetheless. “Tengen, he has a girlfriend.”
“He what?”
“I thought you are his best buddy. Kyojuro’s nurse, Amiya? She’s his girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
Like a bucket of ice cold water over a fire, his anger was put out and he remembered.
That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-
You took a deep breath before giggling again, a little deranged.
Tengen took a step back. “I didn’t- I didn’t know.”
A mad laughter echoed in the room, and it surprised you to hear it was yours. “Really? You come back from a mission and you find your lonely wife, a would-be widow, found out about the joy of having a friend after years and years - and you what? Accuse her of cheating the first thing? Wow, you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?”
“[Name], I-”
“No.” You Breathed, pushing him back and surprising him with your strength. “I never did that to you. Get yourself in the mirror and fucking look. Gods know there are many in our home.”
“Alright, I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that,” Tengen took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I really am…”
“Yes, you better apologize. And you better apologize for one other thing, Lord Tengen,” you seethed. All the anger, the hurt and the pain bubbled together in a nasty concoction of negativity, a poison you intended to make him eat every drop of.
Because he made you eat his.
“I- Precious, calm down-” He backed away a little seeing your darkening expression, “Okay, honey, don’t be calm.”
“That’s right. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m my own person, with ambitions and feelings - feelings, might I add, that you hurt with your loathsome comment-”
Nothing but a burden.
“- but really, I should thank you. I actually found something I can put my energy to now that I’m no longer a kunoichi,” your voice softened as you looked away. You didn’t want to let all be unforgiven, you just wanted to fix it, to embrace Tengen and be embraced by him - flaws, scars, and all.
The kitchen suddenly felt cold, you felt cold - as if you could never warm up enough. You were frozen to the marrow of your bones, and the chasm between the two of you seemed so dark and wide. You were an island in the middle of a sea.
But then he stepped closer.
“Can I touch you?” his voice shook slightly.
Your eyes met.
You nodded. He reached out with both arms, his hand taking yours and pulling you closer, into a tight hug, his stump crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry, precious... I kept thinking I could lose you, that I would lose you again so soon after I got you back. I didn’t want that, I wanted to keep you safe.” His breath hitched as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, breathing in your scent.
“That doesn’t excuse your words.”
Tengen’s heart ached, your voice so small and wounded. “It doesn’t, and I swear I will do my best to make it up to you - for the rest of my life, every day. I swear on my existence that I will cherish you every day, from sunrise to sunset and from sunset to sunrise. You are my one and only, my precious.”
The reverent promises warmed your cold bones, bringing life back to where there was none.
You’d long decided to stand by Tengen no matter what. You would forgive him.
After a punishment.
The master bedroom was a work of art - especially for a polycule. Nearly all of it was a raised platform covered by one gigantic futon that could host ten or more people, with about a meter and a half from the walls on three sides as a walk-around. Perfect for what you had in mind.
“Ladies, take it easy-” he choked out. It was too much at once - Hinatsuru cupping his jaw and leaving hickeys, you giving attention to his nipples, sucking and biting them, and Makio at his cock, lapping at his flushed tip. Where was-?
He tried to reach out to push his wives away but felt a tug instead, his arms immobile behind his back.
“Sum-aaahn~ Fuck!” Makio sucked him into her warm mouth, distracting him from Suma, who was skillfully weaving ropes around his arms; she was, after all, the best at shibari out of all his wives. Their plan slowly sank into his mind. It was hot, and he didn’t want it to stop.
Your nails trailed over his abdomen, Makio cupped his balls as she took more and more of him down her throat, and Hinatsuru practically devoured him with a deep kiss, taking his breath away. His mind went blank.
“Done!”
At the signal, all of his wives took a step back, leaving him panting and aching for more. His face was flushed and his eyes a little hazy. “Wha-?”
Makio grinned, wiping a little bit of drool from her face. “Did you really think this night is about you?” she tutted.
“Exactly, Tengen-sama. You’ve had our wife all to yourself for weeks. It’s our turn,” added Hinatsuru, turning to you. “As long as the First wife approves.”
You smiled shyly, face hot, yet turned on. It was all a show, just for Tengen. Hinatsuru had already asked you in private if you’d consider a night like that, since the three felt the need to punish him for his transgressions as well. If he already wasn’t regretting crossing his women, he would be after tonight.
“What are we waiting for?” Suma skipped over to you, grabbing you by the yukata and kissing you deeply. You squeaked in surprise at her forwardnes but kissed her back. She tasted sweet, like mochi - you now knew for certain she ate it despite being told not to.
The mochi was quickly forgotten when you felt your obi loosen. Suma’s hands went into your hair as she kept you occupied. Deft fingers pushed your yukata off your shoulders, another pair of hands going up to cup and play with your breasts.
“Girls, come on… I’m here, why don’t you use me for your pleasures?” Tengen’s voice was faint to you, as was Makio’s response, your head underwater despite breathing fine.
The hands at your breasts disappeared, leaving you cold, your nipples hard from arousal and the change in temperature both. Suma pushed you backwards, until your calves met the raised platform bed. She finally pulled back, someone - Hinatsuru - gently making you sit, then lay on the mattress.
“You look so cute when you’re all flustered… Your eyes are so lost,” she leaned over you and kissed your lips softly. You chased after her for more, but she only giggled. “It makes me want to ruin you~” She smirked. “In a good way, of course.”
Tengen could only stare in mute shock at what was unfolding in front of him. All his wives turned on him, tied him up, and ignored him, seeking pleasure from each other instead of using him as their play toy. The truth of the situation slowly sank into his mind as he watched Makio replace Hinatsuru in teasing you, and Suma help Hinatsuru into a strap-on harness - a strap-on that was an exact copy of his own cock! They could just use him!
“Girls… I’m right here~ My hands are a bit tied though…” Tengen nearly whined, trying to make eye contact with any of them, only for all four women to be focusing on each other instead of him.
“Sweetie, would you mind…?”
You looked up to see Hinatsuru with a big strap-on, waving it in your face. You opened your mouth and started to give it sloppy kisses, getting it all wet with your saliva, as you looked up into her eyes. She was smiling down at you, petting your hair gently.
There was a brief conversation behind you but you could only focus on her as she guided you down the cock, making you gag slightly. Hinatsuru pulled back and let you go at your own pace, telling you how good you were for her and how lovely you look taking the strap down your throat.
“Mhm, I think it’s wet enough, isn’t it?” She cupped your jaw and slowly slid you off of it, a string of saliva connecting your lips and the tip of it before it snapped. “Makio, come here.”
Gentle hands hugged you from the back, open-mouthed kisses worshiping your shoulders as Suma moved you back a bit to make place for your other wife.
“Mommy is going to make you feel good,” Hinatsuru cooed at Makio, turning her around and pushing her to her hands and knees. “Present for me, babygirl.”
Makio arched her back, balancing on her forearm to spread her already-soaked pussy, the sight making Hinatsuru blush in delight. She took the strap by the base and teased her wife by going up and down between her pussy lips. Makio whimpered and tried to push herself back on it, very nearly succeeding, when Hinatsuru spanked her ass lightly.
“Be good for me, okay?” Nevertheless, she pushed the strap inside agonizingly slowly, Makio moaning at the feeling. She used both hands to support herself now that the cock was in. “You can only cum if you make [Name] cum, babygirl. Sound fair?”
Makio smirked, though it lacked the usual sass, each slow thrust taking more of her brattiness away. “Yes, mommy~”
Suma pushed you down to lay in front of Makio, spreading your legs with soothing strokes on your thighs. “Let her make you feel good~” She positioned you to half-lay on her lap, one of her hands coming up to caress your breasts and play with your nipples gently.
Hinatsuru thrust in roughly exactly once, and it was to push Makio’s head in between your thighs, forcing her to start pleasuring you. She licked at your clit with just the tip of her tongue, drawing circles and infinity symbols; the long-forgotten feeling of someone going down on you ignited a blaze inside your belly, making you gasp and clutch onto the bedding.
Suma took hold of your wrist and placed your hand on Makio’s head, whispering lowly, “She likes it when you pull her hair~” Hearing that, you tugged at her hair a little, her moans only adding to your pleasure, the vibrations feeling heavenly.
“F-fuck-” you breathed out shakily, wanting to pull away yet push her head closer to you, already overwhelmed.
Makio dove in, sucking at your puffy clit gently, laving it with the attention it deserved. She made her way down, grazing the tip along your slit as she continued to make little sounds from Hinatsuru fucking her. Flattening her tongue, she hungrily ate you, a woman on a mission.
Hinatsuru looked up from the lewd display in front of her to look at her husband. Tengen was mesmerized, staring at all of them, before he caught her gaze. She caressed Makio’s asscheeks before delivering a sharp smack, earning her a loud moan from Makio, and subsequently another from you. His face flushed a deep red, lips pressed together in frustration. All the while, Hinatsuru kept eye contact with him, a smug smile stretching her perfect lips.
You tensed, crying out and thrashing in Suma’s embrace, hand harshly gripping at Makio’s hair as you rode wave after wave of pleasure.
“Shhh, you look so lovely when you cum, don’t you, princess?” Suma whispered in your ear, hot air caressing your sensitive spot as you shivered. “Did you see how good Makio ate you out? Isn’t she pretty when her mouth is occupied and not sprouting nonsense?”
You could scarcely choke out a word, quickly tipping into overstimulation. Hinatsuru, bless her, noticed and roughly pulled Makio back on her strap, pulling her face out of your pussy as she whined and moaned.
Suma rubbed your thighs in comfort; you just tried to catch your breath, coming down to Earth from the Heavens you were in.
“Are you with me? Ready for your lesson, princess?”
“L-lesson?” you tried to get your bearing, while Suma turned you around gently, shuffling back a little, her cunt nearly in your face.
“Why, of course~” She grinned. “You need to learn how to eat out a pussy. Did you pay attention to Makio? If not, that’s fine. Come, I’ll be your teacher today~”
You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, saliva pooling in your mouth as you processed what she wanted you to do. You wanted to try, wanted to taste her, wanted to find out how to please her and how to perform your wifely duties to her. The curiosity of the entire act burned inside of you.
You laid on your belly, your lips just inches from the well of ambrosia awaiting you. You give a first tentative lick, the tip of your tongue swirling around Suma’s clit, making her sigh out in pleasure.
“That’s good, princess.” Whispered praises left her lips, instructing you how exactly she liked it, where to lick, where to suck, when to slow down and speed up. Gentle fingers threaded through your hair, reassuring you and grounding you.
You alternated between her sweetness and her puffy nub as she guided you through your first oral, the taste so addicting to you and the praises intoxicating. Her moans only made you wetter, made you anticipate what’s coming next in the night as you enjoyed Suma’s depths for all she gave. Her thighs quivered around your head, the sounds of ecstasy resonating in your ears when her legs didn’t squeeze you involuntarily.
Your face was flushed, you could hardly breathe; you ate and ate until she was screaming and creaming around your tongue, hot pussy juices flooding your mouth.
“You did so well for me, haaah- princess,” Suma caressed you, easing you off of her with a shaky hand. “How was it?”
You licked your lips and looked up at her shyly. “I liked it very much.” The admission earned you a smile and a deep kiss, before Makio patted both your shoulders. Her thighs shook a little as she winked and then tilted her head in the direction of your husband.
You all shared a secret grin, turning to him at once.
"Heh, I knew you would want my cock eventually," Tengen smirked. You gave him an unimpressed stare.
Makio circled him and bent forward to hug him from the back, whispering in his ear seductively. "Worry not, pretty boy. Once we've used you as we want, you're being put back on the shelf. You see," she grinned evilly, "we don't need you to get our pleasure." Her arms tightened around him, a silent warning to not move.
Hinatsuru laid in front of Tengen, her legs spread on each side of his thighs as if she were offering herself to him. She patted your thigh to draw your attention. "Sweetie, paint me with his cum. I want it all over me~"
The nickname made your cheeks heat up. You nodded enthusiastically and shuffled closer to Tengen.
His lone eye was lidded, face flushed and lips parted as he looked on in anticipation of what was coming. His cock twitched right before your palm met his flesh, the spongy tip an angry red and weeping precum. You held it steady and opened your mouth, letting your saliva drip down on it, using it as lubricant along with his precum to stroke him. Tengen let out a breathy “Fuuuhk-” when you started a steady pace, putting both of your hands to use. You swept your thumb over the mushroom head with each pass, paying attention to what he liked. It was your goal to make him finish, after all.
“Come on, be our good boy and cum quick~ We need your cum~” Makio whispered into his ear in a sultry voice. Tengen whimpered.
Your hands were firm around his cock, unrelenting as you worked him towards his release; the weight of him in your hands was familiar yet new at the same time. His balls hung heavy and you cupped them with one of your hands, fingers deftly massaging him for the sweet treat inside.
Tengen cursed like a sailor, first spurt of semen shooting out with enough force to land near Hinatsuru’s neck. You didn’t stop, trying to squeeze the most you could out of him as he painted a masterpiece on his wife.
"Good job. Now you sit here nice and pretty for us. Such a good decoration to our pleasure, hmm?"
You, Makio and Suma all descended upon Hinatsuru with the hunger of starving hyenas. Licking at her cum-stained skin, you cleaned every beautiful inch of her as she closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it.
Tengen could only stare again, humiliated for the n-th time that evening. Yet again he was forced to sit and watch his wives go at it, barely giving him a taste of the pleasures they gifted each other so lovingly, using him as a source of cum to continue the hedonistic display in front of him. He felt shamed, and unbelievably turned on.
Makio’s head bumped into yours by accident, prompting you both to look up. Your eyes met, an animalistic impulse taking over as you locked your lips together, Tengen’s cum shining like lip gloss on both of your lips. So engrossed in each other, you forgot all about the audience you had, everything a blur as your tongues danced.
“Time to fuck that attitude out of you, brat.”
Makio’s head was yanked from you, a string of saliva stretching and snapping between the two of you as Suma tugged her back by her hair. Makio was forced to support herself with her hands on Tengen’s thighs, making him blush deeply at the sight. A sharp smack echoed in the room.
Warm hands coiling around your torso distracted you from your stolen lover. Palms with small calluses ran over your breasts, the rough parts catching on your nipples as you were pulled away and down to lay your head on a pillow. Hinatsuru laid beside you, foreheads touching, air shared between you.
“Do you want to learn how to make me feel good?” she whispered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy.
You had none though. “Yes, please… Mommy.” Your face felt hot at the nickname you called her, but Hinatsuru only smiled gently, cupping your face.
“Of course, sweetie.” Her fingertips trailed down your throat, your chest, belly, making you shiver and goosebumps spread over your skin at her feather-light touch. At last, her hand stroked your thigh, raising it a little to allow her access to your most intimate place, two fingers delving between your pussy lips. You drew a shaky breath.
“Close your eyes,” Hinatsuru whispered to your ear. “Feel my fingers, focus on how I do it…” You gasped as her thumb circled your puffy clit oh so gently. “Copy what I do to you, hmm? Can you do that for me, sweetie?” Her motions slowed down, waiting for you to start doing as she ordered.
Your hand hesitantly trailed down her side to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to her entrance to wet your fingers before you began copying her. Her shaky moan signaled you were doing it somewhat right.
“Feel me?”
You hummed breathlessly, leaning against her neck, panting slightly. You weren’t ready for the pleasure her digits brought but you tried to focus on copying her movements. Each flick, circle and thrust was met blow-for-blow on her own pussy. You bit your lip as you felt her huffing into your hair.
“You’re doing so well, sweetie. Just relax and enjoy it, hmm?”
You could hardly relax when she brought you pleasure so expertly - each circle on your clit winding the knot inside tighter and tighter, making you see stars even before your release.
“Let go for me, babygirl.”
You cried out, losing control over your fingers as you shattered on Hinatsuru’s. Tears gathered at your lash line while she shushed you, still stimulating you gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure as they crashed upon you.
“So adorable. You sound so cute when you cum, sweetie.” She took hold of your hand and ground down on you. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy use you- ah!”
Hinatsuru didn’t bother to muffle her moans, chasing her own la petite mort. You watched in awe when she came, her pussy walls squeezing your fingers, more slick coming out of her. Her whole body trembled and she no longer had to control you as you made sure to gently bring her down to Earth, steering clear of her clit to not overstimulate her.
A lewd sound accompanied you taking your fingers away from her. You looked at them, all sopping wet with her essence; before you could stop yourself, you were licking it all up. Hinatsuru giggled a little and cuddled close to you once you were done, giving you a sweet kiss on your lips.
Makio’s face was right in Tengen’s, each snap of Suma’s hips driving her closer to her orgasm, her breasts swaying back and forth, her nails digging into his thighs painfully. He could not look away; he ached with need, his weeping cock begging for attention, tears nearly filling his eyes from the frustration. Just behind Makio and Suma were Hina and you, coming down from your respective highs, cuddling and not paying attention to him at all.
Why? He was right there! Why didn't you or Hina or any of them give him any relief? He truly felt he didn’t deserve this…
Makio went taunt suddenly, her eyes rolling back and her arms losing their strength, nearly falling into his lap. Suma laughed breathlessly at that and slowly pulled the strap out of Makio’s pussy, the fake dick bouncing a little. With a few tugs on the harness, she was free of it, a few indents showing on her thighs from how tightly she tied the straps.
Extra appendage discarded, it was time to untie Tengen, who’d fallen uncharacteristically silent.
Makio was crawling to the cuddling duo, completely spent, when the last knots fell loose.
Tengen Breathed.
Suma was on her back before she knew what was going on, her legs spread wide open. “Eh?” was all she could say when her husband’s large form caged her in, the tip of his rock hard cock already at her entrance. Her yelp alerted the other wives that something was wrong, but Tengen was beyond the point of caring. He thrust inside with one smooth move, groaning loudly like a cheap whore, immediately setting a punishing pace on his Second wife.
All other sounds fell away other than the lewd wet smacks of skin-on-skin. Suma’s face became flushed very quickly, clawing at his shoulders while he rendered her guts to pieces with his harshness. A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain.
He brought his hand down to her clit, circling it the exact way she loved. Tears filled her eyes as her release approached rapidly. Tengen had still not said a thing. He was just staring at her, groaning softly, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and face, which was set in a beautifully pussy-drunk expression.
She was lost, her back arching as she clung to him. The fluttering of her pussy made him let out sounds reminiscent of a dying man and still deep inside her, painting her walls white. Tengen pulled out slowly, still hard, throbbing and far from done. He did nothing to stop his cum from leaking out, turning to the rest of his wives.
Makio was already dozing off, despite the commotion, so that eased his burden so to speak. Tengen shuffled closer in a few quick motions, grabbing Hinatsuru’s ankle and yanking her to him, her noise of surprise drowned by his feral growl.
She laid on her stomach, so Tengen just straddled her thighs and spread her asscheeks open, pushing inside her wet pussy roughly. Hinatsuru angled her hips to take him in deeper, fucking herself back on him and moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right spots. "T-Tengen, slow down!"
You could only stare wide-eyed as your husband railed Hinatsuru like a beast, his stump resting on the small of her back, arching her up even more, and his hand clutching the back of her neck. You glanced at Makio on your side, long since passed out, and then Suma, who was dozing with cum oozing out of her.
You weren’t scared of Tengen, per se, but this was new. You had never seen him go crazy like this. It made you gush with wetness at the display, your fingers reaching down to play with yourself.
His furious pace with Hinatsuru slowed down, though not any less powerful. He leaned over her, his whole body covering hers as he put his weight on his forearms, grinding into her with each roll of his hips, her eyes crossing a little, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Tengen started to whisper in her ear; you could not hear what he said, but Hinatsuru’s eyes met yours, conveying a silent message you could not understand. Was it pity or something else entirely?
Smack.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tengen spanked her, grinning widely, staring down at her. “Say my name,” he commanded her in a gravelly voice.
Hinatsuru desperately clutched the bedding - trying to remain in place or fuck herself back on him, you didn’t know - as she stuttered out a weak “T-Ten-gen-!”
“Louder!”
“T-Tengen!”
A quick rhythm of pap pap pap echoed in the room, you couldn’t look away, you could scarcely breathe. And then, Hinatsuru could scarcely breathe, when he wound his left arm around her neck, using the thick muscles to keep her in place while he had his fun.
Her face was red, mouth falling open in an ‘o’.
“Oh fuck- I’m cumming-” he choked out hugging Hinatsuru close, burying his face in her neck and groaning as if he were dying, letting up the pressure on her neck. She just whimpered meekly, grinding back against him, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his in an intimate touch.
You suddenly felt like a voyeur. You wiped your wetness on your thigh, quickly pulling a loose blanket over yourself, embarrassed.
There was a loud squelch and another whimper from Hinatsuru.
You chanced a look, your eyes widening.
It was clear Tengen’s mania did not pass yet, his cock still hard and twitching. “What, did you think I’d forget my dearest wife?” He loomed over you, his huge body casting a shadow, like a predator about to devour his prey. “Whether you're ready or not, here I come, precious…”
You felt like the temperature of the room rose a few degrees, watching him come closer to you, length bouncing, covered in slick and cum. You thought he must be pretty overstimulated, it should be easy to last…
How wrong you were.
Like an animal let out of his cage, he pounced. The last two creampies only took the edge off; your fellow wives were dozing off quietly while you were about to get ravaged.
Tengen practically tore the blanket from your body, leaning closer and blocking your escape, his forearms framing your head. “Why are you hiding from me, precious? Are you scared?”
You trembled from a mix of arousal and anticipation.
His wine red eye searched both of yours intently, waiting for your response. When you said nothing, he whispered, “Remember our safe word?”
Jade, or three taps on any part of his body with your fingers.
You nodded.
“You can still use it at any time,” he murmured. “Say it, or use our non-verbal signal, and I’m going to stop. Do you understand?”
You nodded again, making him sigh in relief.
Then, Tengen grinned, dropping all the worries he had; happy you were both on the same page. Now he was free to do as he pleased - as long as you didn’t stop him. “Then… Say you’re mine…” he leaned in even more, hovering just centimeters above your lips, your breaths mingling. “...pet.”
You exhaled harshly, the nickname doing things to you, his closeness, his voice, his scent… All of it an intoxicating mix of pure Tengen. “I’m… yours.”
“Hm? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder,” he whispered breathily, eye half-lidded. “Come on, be a good girl. You know you want to be~”
Your face felt hot at the intensity of his attention. “I’m yours.”
“Exactly, precious - mine to touch…” His right hand caressed your cheek, tilting your face up. “Mine to kiss…” he breathed out, diving in for a deep and sensual kiss that stole your breath away. “Mine to do whatever I please…” His hand traced down your neck gently as he kissed you again. “You’ve been naughty…”
His lips left your own; instead trailing open-mouthed and hot kisses on your throat.
“Teasing me all evening…”
Your pussy clenched around nothing, his cock bumping on your clit as he tried to position himself hands-free.
"Minxes-"
His tip caught at your entrance and he slid in with a low groan, your heat and wetness driving him near-mad already.
"You were so gorgeous, all of you."
In, and out, in and out - each time quicker and quicker, yet the way he took you could hardly be called graceful. It was an animalistic and desperate pace, all about pleasure and none about being pretty.
He leaned back a little, holding his weight on his hand. "Hold onto me," he panted out. "C'mon raise those hips f'me, precious."
You tightened your thighs on his hips, gripping as much as you could with his disharmonic thrusts, and arched your back off of the bed. His cock hit a very sensitive spot inside making you groan at the sensation and nearly slip down as you lost strength; Tengen used his left forearm to stabilize you as he fully raised himself upright on his knees, his right hand helping his thrusts.
He groaned, “You’re fucking perfect - and all mine, only mine.”
You could only mewl in response, your orgasm quickly approaching.
As did his.
“Fuck- fuckfuck, I’m coming, I’m coming-comingcomingcomin-!” he chanted over and over, falling over and putting nearly his whole weight on you as his hips stuttered. He leaned on his left forearm above your head to ease off of you a little, still slamming away into you, rhythmless and sloppy.
Heat filled you, setting you off like fireworks. Your pussy milked him for all he was worth, each spasm accompanied by a whimper from you.
“I can’t stop my hips- It feels so good, ngh-!” His semen spilled out of you with each slap of skin against skin, his pubic bone bumping against your clit and creating a burning ache there. Tears filled your eyes when finally he groaned out, "Fuuuhck-" You felt his hot cum spill inside you again, making you wonder where your husband acquired such libido and stamina while you were away.
Tengen slowed down at last, his body trembling above yours as he hid his face in your neck, panting. Your arms were boneless and refused to keep any semblance of coordination; nevertheless you hugged him loosely, one hand tangling in his sweaty locks. You untied his eye-patch and dropped it at your side, fingers returning to his scalp.
Each breath became longer and longer, his rutting finally coming to a stop.
He huffed and kissed your neck gently. "Gonna pull out now-" he grunted when your pussy spasmed around him, clearly overstimulated. He finally pulled out fully, for the first time since sinking into your heat, and nearly got hard at the sight again.
His cum was smeared all over your thighs and more still was leaking out of your puffy pussy. He could not resist - his hand gathering some of the pearly white, reaching up and smearing it all over your tits.
"Hey!" you protested half-heartedly.
Tengen laughed, still a little breathless. “Not sorry.” He gave you a short but insanely soft kiss, before standing up and walking to the door. “Stay where you are.” His form disappeared.
You relaxed, the gentle breathing of your wives soothing you. That was… something. You had never been with a woman before, nor had you had an orgy, or really been with anyone other than Tengen, but this felt good, this felt nice. Overwhelming, but neverending pleasure. Giving and taking freely. No pressure. Just ecstasy.
Tengen came back, carrying a small bucket of water and a few rags, each a different color. He gave you a wink and knelt next to Suma first, wetting one of the rags and cleaning her up, his gentle motions a clear worship to his wife. Once clean, he scooped her up and carried her over to the other side of the room-futon. Suma had not stirred once.
You rolled onto your side to watch him work as he moved onto Makio. Hers was swift, yet Tengen kept pausing every time she mumbled something in her sleep. Finished, he carried her to Suma, who immediately cuddled Makio to her chest. He threw a blanket over both of them as they snuggled for warmth.
Watching him care for them told you how deeply he loved each one, how devoted he was. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel jealous. Perhaps it’s the remnants of shinobi culture lurking in your brain, though the thought didn’t comfort you at all.
Hinatsuru groaned when he cleaned up his spend from her thighs, the water clearly going cold with time. Tengen shushed her softly, speeding up so he could get her to be with the others quicker.
With the girls, Hinatsuru rolled over, pressing herself up against Makio, seeking warmth.
At last, it was your turn.
“You’re shakin'…” You didn’t even notice until he pointed it out. He quickly grabbed the last wet rag and wiped you down gently. The water was lukewarm. “I’m right here, precious.”
His own body seemed clean enough, so he’d already done that for himself in the bathroom probably. You reached out and placed one of your hands on his thigh, right over the marks Makio left on him, hoping to provide him with a little of the comfort he brought you. Tengen smiled at that gesture.
“You did a good job, makin’ me feel good.”
You hummed. “And you did a good job making me feel fantastic,” you whispered as he finally wiped the drying cum off of your chest.
His hand slowed a little. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“No, you were just right.”
He leaned down to give you a tender kiss, the forearm of his left arm caressing your cheek oh so gently, it made you tear up a little. This man, your husband, worshiped you like a goddess. Your love for him swelled in your chest, your heart pumping heavily as if it wanted to beat out of your body. You felt loved - loved, cherished, appreciated. It was a heady feeling, a drug which made you crave even more of his soft attention and veneration.
You could only hope he understood the power he had over you.
Tengen set the rag on the rim of the bucket and put it beside the futon. You got to your knees to join the others when your husband snatched you up, making you yelp a little. He was grinning. “Can’t have you walking after your first night in our flashy group, can I?”
You giggled quietly when he laid you down, himself between you and Hinatsuru, who felt a greater warmth from his side than from Makio’s and rolled over to him. You reached out and threw a blanket over all three of you.
Despite your tiredness, you allowed Tengen to pull you even closer against him, bestowing another adoring kiss to the crown of your head. One of your arms stretched over him, tracing idle patterns on his chest - characters, words, should he pay enough attention to notice them.
I adore you.
I never want to leave your side.
I want to make you happy.
You make me happy.
I'm yours.
You're mine.
We are husband and wives, a family unit, never to be separated.
Tags: smut, in heat/rut, pheromones acting as aphrodisiac, knotting [& creampie (obviously)], possessiveness
Word count: 2,4k
Masterlist
It was the start of an extended weekend - holiday on Thursday and you took Friday off - and you were happy to finally catch up on your anime binging. All was peaceful, you were in just your panties and an oversized shirt for comfort; you got through two episodes so far, you were stocked up on snacks and drinks, content to spend three days alone before your date with your new boyfriend, Giyuu.
You had met Giyuu through a friend of a friend and you hit it off very quickly. You just sort of… clicked together, like missing puzzle pieces, or soulmates or whatever. It was three months in, and you couldn’t be happier. You hadn’t yet passed the kissing stage, but Giyuu seemed a little shy, which was perfectly fine. It wasn’t as if either of you were uncontrollable horny teens.
You were in the middle of watching a mage and his apprentice acquire a grim familiar during a tension filled-scene when your doorbell rang.
“Fuck-!” you were so into it, the noise nearly made you jump out of your skin. Pausing the episode and putting your snacks on the coffee table, you padded over to the front door. The peeking hole showed you your boyfriend with a troubled expression. Worried, you quickly opened it. “Giyuu?”
The sound of your voice snapped him from a trance and his fever-bright eyes met yours. A smile spread on his face and slight blush decorated his cheeks when he walked forward without asking to come in. Unusual.
“Is everything okay?” The door closed.
Your boyfriend didn’t respond, kicking off his shoes - another odd thing, he was a very neat person - and tugging you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. A shudder seemed to go through him the moment he took you in.
He spoke at last. “I know we’ve only just started dating,” he started in a low rasp. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent goosebumps crawling across your whole body. “But my rut just arrived and I-” he cut himself off with a sharp exhale, his nose touching the side of your neck when he took a deep breath again.
You were beyond confused. “...rut? What do you mean?”
Giyuu’s arms wound even tighter around your form. It was a bad time to start explaining but he needed to, he needed you to understand and to act - to help him. “I’m not human.”
You could only gasp. “What are you-?”
“I’m a wolf at times… and this wolf affects me even in human form. I need to-” he shuddered again, his lips gliding down your neck to where your shoulder met it. He licked the spot, trying to stem his hunger for you. “Please let me- let me fuck you,” he said in a breathy voice.
His desperation sent a flare of desire throughout your entire body. Your mind reeled with his admission. This whole scenario reminded you of the monster porn you read once or twice, but what did it mean for you?
“Please,” he begged hoarsely, one of his hands pushing on the small of your back to press your belly against the bulge in his pants.
Giyuu had never begged you before, he'd never expressed himself so boldly before. Just because of that, you were leaning towards giving in.
It didn't help that he smelled so good.
"Okay."
No sooner had that word left your lips, his own slotted against yours in a deep and desperate kiss that stole your breath away.
He backed you up against the wall, his hands holding your hips to grind against you and yours in his hair, the leather cord he used to tie it coming loose quickly as you lightly tugged on it. He released a sinful moan into the kiss, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
Giyuu guided you both to the bedroom - you later wondered how he knew which room it was - tugging at your oversized shirt, clearly wanting it off, an impossible feat without pulling back from the kiss.
Just when you thought he would give in and tear it in off, he actually did let you discard it peacefully.
Your panties did not receive the same tender care.
With a growl of "I'll buy you some later," he laid you onto the bed tucking himself between your legs. One of his arms supported his weight by your head, the fingers of the other impatiently delving into your pussy to prepare you as soon as possible. One, two, three digits stretched you out in a quick manner while all you could do was sigh and moan softly, your eyes locked onto each other as you quivered under his form, mind hazy.
Giyuu had wanted to take his time on your first night… before his rut hit him. Now, he just wanted to eat you alive.
“I want you,” Giyuu whispered breathlessly. “I need you.”
You nodded shakily, still trying to find your bearings from the stretch of your pussy on his fingers. He pulled them away, making you gasp at the emptiness, your muscles clenching around nothing as you heard his belt buckle open.
The sound of it had never been so enticing before.
You blinked slowly and looked at him.
You weren’t a virgin, but you had never seen a cock like his - thick and long and so, so pretty, with a strange swelling around the middle. But a brief glance was all you could get before he was onto you, kissing you deeply, sloppily. He was in a daze, his eyes half-lidded.
“Lovie, gods, I need you-”
Giyuu lined himself up against your entrance and slid in slowly, the stretch of his tip entering you feeling so much more than his three fingers, even if it didn’t seem like it. “F-fuck, slow- slow downngh-”
He immediately stopped and pulled away from your face, eyes glistening with unshed tears, guilt and anguish clear in his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking so wounded as if he were the one being speared open with a cock.
You breathed through the burn, your hands cupping his cheeks gently. “Just go slower okay? I’m not- it’s just been a while,” you reassured him.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me, lovie.”
Your thumbs caressed his face softly as you murmured, “You’re fine, Giyuu. You just need to go slow, okay? Can you do that for me?”
He closed his eyes, and hummed in agreement, sliding more of himself in slowly, as you’d told him to. He kissed you in an unhurried passion, enjoying you - your taste, your heat, your body against his.
The burn wasn’t as bad this time, though as you threaded your fingers in his hair, you had to grip it tight when the swelled middle started to slide in. You broke away from him to breathe, clenching your eyes shut as Giyuu murmured apology after apology, peppering many soothing kisses all over your face and then-
Giyuu slipped in in his entirety, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. He’d swear later it was an accident, that he’d mean to just force his knot in faster so you wouldn't hurt so much, but he miscalculated how slippery you were. And Gods, your cunt was so snug around his cock, he could hardly breathe.
You could hardly breathe. So full. So hot. A fever spreading from your belly out to your fingertips - but not unpleasant. It felt good. The pain and burn faded instantly when you buried your face in Giyuu’s neck, breathing in the musky smell of his sweat. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t resist placing an open mouthed kiss on his pulse point, your tongue slipping out to taste him.
His breath hitched, his hips bucked, and you threw your head back with a low moan when he hit the sweet spot inside of you with his cock.
“Fuck- sorry, lovie,” he apologized in a strained voice, trying to stay still. “Are you o-okay?”
You only nodded shakily. “Please, mo-move.” You forced your hands to stop gripping his hair so much, keeping only one hand there while another cupped his cheek.
Your eyes locked with his as he started to rock into you gently.
Giyuu’s face was flushed, sweat beading at his temples, lips parted to pant, eyes glazed over with an unnatural brightness. You probably looked no better, a mess underneath your lover.
He kept panting and moaning softly, and this was the most expressive you'd ever seen or heard your boyfriend be. The vulnerability he showed you made you feel as if you would crack open - your heart so full it could not be contained-
“I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. His eyes seemed to glow with happiness, and he sped up his thrusts. Your hands fell from him to grip onto his forearms.
“I love you, I love you-Iloveyou-” Each time he bottomed out, you repeated your feelings, and each time, he went faster until nothing other than moans and whines could escape you.
Why did this feel more intense than anything you’d ever felt before? Why did it feel like you’d spiral any second? Why did it feel like you couldn’t get enough, that you wanted more of him, have him deeper, make him carve you out from the inside until no one else could fit but him?
It was a heady mix of greed and lust and gluttony for Giyuu, the not-human, the wolf.
“Pl-ease-! Ah!”
You could hardly believe the sounds leaving your throat, high pitched whines and animalistic keening, which only seemed to spur Giyuu on to be rougher with you. He kept eye contact with you still, his hands gripping the fabric of your pillow above your shoulders tightly, his wrists leaning against you to keep you from sliding away from his thrusts.
“Ghi-yuu-ngh-”
His lips slipped open even more, in awe of how beautifully he disintegrated your composure; dew beaded at your lash line, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes half-lidded as you babbled his name, begged and told him how you loved him.
And oh how he loved you too.
He was going to keep you as his forever. Your cunt was too good for him, you were too good for him. Your scent called to him. He needed you.
More, more, more.
Not enough.
Giyuu fucked you like the beast he was, chasing his pleasure and getting drunk off of yours. This was the first heat he’d been even tempted to sink into the core of his partner and Gods, it felt so good. He’d never be able to not fuck you during his heat.
Thankfully, his heats happened only once or twice a year…
He pulled back slightly, slowing the fucking temporarily so he could put both of your legs over his shoulders before he picked up his earlier pace again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his sharp nails - claws - digging into your skin. You could no longer keep your eyes locked into his, turning your head away and clenching your eyes shut, tears of pleasure falling, when he slightly changed the angle and rubbed along your sweet spot repeatedly. You let out a hoarse whimper.
“Lo-lovie, if you get- fuck- if you get any tighter - hah - I won’t be able to pull out-” he choked out, yet he did not let up. Deep down, he knew he would not be able to hold himself back. He needed to give you all he had, he needed to fill you with his love.
You clawed at the mattress, trying to find purchase, not knowing if you wanted to escape from the ecstasy or if you wanted more. Something threatened to snap in your gut, Giyuu didn’t seem to care as he pounded into you. “Plea-se-!”
Your voice was music to his ears; if he could, he would hone his wolf ears onto you for eternity. “What is it, l-lovie?”
“I- I c-can’t- plea-se- please!” you begged, not knowing what for - but you wanted it, you wanted something.
Your wolf knew though. “I’ve got y-you… you can l-let go, lovie-” One of his hands left your hips to push on your belly, making you infinitely tighter. A mistake, or perfection?
The bubble burst in the next slam of his hips against your ass. You keened, arching your back, more tears escaping your eyes. You were afloat, mind unable to handle any other stimuli than what erupted from your core; your ears rang, stars burst behind your eyelids, your mouth hung open.
A strange vibration reverberated through your body, then sharp heat inside of you, and a slight burn from being stretched. Your brain registered that that couldn’t be right, but you could not focus on anything at all.
Giyuu was in heaven, his knot locked inside of you, his seed filling you up, and you lost in pleasure. There was no better place to be than right where he was - inside you, around you, with you. You, you, you, only you. Your scent enveloped him in a heady atmosphere and his teeth ached with need to sink into your neck, your shoulder. He wanted to truly make you his own.
But he wouldn’t. He couldn't, not without your explicit consent.
He already felt like he'd preyed on you as is, not pulling out, using you like this… he needed to make it up to you somehow.
He needed to show you he could be your forever partner, he needed to show you he could be your future.
He lowered your legs from his shoulders to cradle his waist instead, half-laying on you, soaking up your presence in the post-orgasmic bliss. It distantly occurred to him that his rut had not yet passed, the feverish heat still burning in his gut. He didn't even know how long he'd need to wait for his knot to deflate… before he needed to fuck you again, and again, and again.
"Are you okay?" Giyuu asked at last when the both of you caught your breaths.
You hummed in affirmation, sore all over, throat hoarse as if you'd been at a concert all night. Your arms loosely embraced him as you cooled down a little. "So… not human, huh?"
Your boss had given you the responsibility of hosting that night. It led to something you didn't anticipate.
Tags: Mafia AU, mentioned character death, Yandere content, fluff, dub-con, smut, creampie, sub reader, mild bondage, mention of contraception/lack of it
Word count: 6,8k
Masterlist
Your boss had given you the responsibility of hosting tonight; it was an honor to finally do an event solo - an important gala at that. Your boss had been secretive about the people who you were hosting though.
Makeup on point, hair styled to perfection.
You were ready.
At least once you found your neutral gray suit, you would be. Where was it? You swore you put it somewhere…
Oh, you were not ready.
You totally forgot to wash it. The suit of your choice was laying in the hamper, where you left it over a week ago. That meant only one thing… you had to wear the red dress your boss bought you for Christmas, or well, her money bought it - she’d given you a gift card to one of the fancier stores in the city so you had to make use of it. You’d planned to wear it to an event for fun not for work… it was even hardly suitable, with how low-cut the décolleté was. Had you not put on mascara already, tears of frustration would stream down your cheeks.
It was not going to be totally appropriate… but it would have to do. At least the skirt was flowy and not hugging your figure; it would have been hell on earth if you would have to be in a tight dress for the whole night.
You quickly found a pair of comfortable low heels, grabbed your purse and went to catch a taxi to the venue. It was still some hours before the start, but you had to make sure everything was perfect.
And it was. You’d spent weeks planning it with the knowledge the client was important and was not to be displeased. All the specifications were assented to by your boss before you finalized anything, so you were pretty confident in the client’s approval. The catering was on point, waiters ready, bars stocked, and the opening went without a hitch. You kept up your rounds checking on each staff group to keep things running smoothly.
There was only one thing that was… not perfect.
There was a man behind you from the start, though he kept his distance.
He was following you, that much was obvious to you. A gentleman in all black - black suit, black dress shirt, black tie, black hair, eyes dark like the night sky-
“Miss?”
You looked up from your flute of non-alcoholic champagne. A man in a dark blue suit with a green and yellow turtle-shell patterned tie approached you. “How may I help you?”
He gave you a friendly smile. “You just seemed lonely in your little corner. Thought you needed some company.” He grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and raised it to you.
You hesitantly clinked glasses together, a polite smile on your face as you both drank your drink of choice. “That’s very kind of you, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”
You finished off your glass so you didn’t have to respond. He was quite forward, yet he hadn’t even given you his name.
And you weren’t willing to tell him yours first.
“Do you live nearby?” he asked, swirling the wine in his glass, seemingly uninterested yet hanging on every word you were about to say.
You regretted chugging your drink. Setting down the flute on a nearby table, you were about to answer-
“May I have this dance?”
You turned. It was not the man in front of you who asked. Instead, it was the gentleman in black who had been watching you the whole evening. His jaw was clenched, but expression was otherwise unreadable. His dark eyes were actually blue, and they pierced you with intensity you were not used to.
“Yes, thank you,” you shot an apologetic look to the man, who was speaking with you just moments before, and followed the gentleman to the dance floor.
“The name’s Giyuu, Tomioka Giyuu,” he murmured as he took you into his arms, slow waltz starting to play. His frame was solid, offering you all the support a follower could want in a leader; it was as if he had been dancing for years and years, and the first few steps confirmed it - that is, if he wasn’t just crazy talented.
You told him your name as he led you into a spin, making you feel like a princess as your skirt flowed in the motion. There weren’t many dancers on the parquet but you still felt very much alone there, with his warmth and strength leading you through the waltz. You didn’t want the dance to end.
Tomioka remained silent throughout the first song.
Thinking it was a one time deal, you stepped back from him once it ended. However, his grip on your hand did not let up.
“One more?” he asked quietly as a much faster music started to play. Yet another classic, a viennese waltz this time.
Though you weren’t sure if you could keep up with him, something made you agree. Perhaps it was the way he didn’t force needless small talk on you, or the way he offered you the support you needed to glide through the forms and figures of the dance. Maybe it was the way you two fit like a glove, or the way his darkness complimented your bright red dress.
Either way, you spent more time in his arms than out of it for the rest of the evening, orbiting each other like galaxies about to collide.
You still had to do your rounds, and it surprised you he kept you company even then, guarding your back as you did so. As the night wore on, you started to actually talk in between the conversations with the staff and the many, many dances.
He lived at the edge of the city, he didn’t have any pets, he liked the color blue, his favorite food was salmon with daikon.
You sat down for the first time of the night, moaning softly in relief. Your heels were comfortable, but not that comfortable.
Though he wasn’t as animated with his emotions, there were minimalistic expressions on his face that you were able to catch because… well, you were looking. Giyuu was an attractive man, and you wouldn’t mind at all if he asked-
“May I have your number?”
You looked up at him as he stood by your side, a silent protector. You wondered why he hadn’t sat down at all. “Only if I may have yours.” You smiled, face feeling hot.
You went out shopping before your first date. He'd told you to wear something classy, formal.
You were lucky to find a nice dark blue dress to your knees. It looked classy enough in the shop, but by the time it was five minutes until he was to pick you up, you were overthinking.
Was it formal enough? Was your make-up too slutty or was it just right? Should you wear higher heels or-
The doorbell rang.
All your thoughts vanished. Giyuu was here.
And gods did he look amazing. He wore a dark blue dress shirt, which was only slightly off-shade to your dress, and black suit, no tie.
Your face was flushed as he led you to his car - black and elegant, like him - while he complimented your dress.
Ever the gentleman, he opened the doors for you - the car, the restaurant - and pulled out the chair for you too. Chivalry wasn't dead.
The restaurant itself was fancy yet cozy, the type you thought you'd only see in movies. The tables were far apart to offer privacy yet close enough not to be completely isolated. It was situated in a high rise building, giving you a view of the city skyline in the sunset.
"I hope this setting is fine with you. I admit it has been a while since I'd gone out," Giyuu told you softly.
You smiled. "I've never been treated like this on the first date before. I think you're doing more than fine."
This seemed to please him, the corner of his lips quirking up a little. “Good. I didn't want to make you think I would harm you in any way… That's why I chose a public place to meet at first.”
Your heart squeezed a little at the quiet confession, touched and a little in love that he thought of your feelings about the subject. It was true - had your first date been somewhere isolated, you wouldn't say yes to it, the threat of… what happens to women, and men both, too vivid in your mind's eye.
"Thank you. I appreciate the thought, Giyuu." Your smile widened, your face feeling a little hot.
He only nodded in response, his eyes flitting between you and the rest of the room, as if he were keeping watch. He'd told you during the gala that he wasn't much for crowded spaces, so this kind of date was perfect.
"Have you been here before?" you asked when a waiter brought you the menus.
"A few times, yes." Giyuu opened his, more looking at you than the lists of food on paper. "I don't want you to look at the prices… I asked you to accompany me so I'm paying."
Chivalry was not dead indeed.
The conversation flowed smoothly, both of you relaxing in the push and pull of different topics, gentle waves on a calm sea. As you spoke, you placed your hand on the table, nearly touching his own. Second by second, you both inched closer unconsciously.
Your hands met, as did your eyes. Your face felt hot but you were smiling, delighted at the show of comfort and intimacy with this handsome man. His own lips were set in a relaxed line, not quite smiling but close, the deep sapphire of his eyes bright.
The waiter came and went, collecting the menus and your orders, leaving you alone again. A glint of a gold bracelet on the hand of one of the other guests reminded you of something.
“Do you like art, Giyuu?”
He tilted his head a little, the only reaction you got before he told you, “Art gives me a lot to think about.”
There was a deeper meaning to his words, but you could not decipher it just yet. His response was not negative however, and you latched onto that, hope budding in your chest. “There will be an art exhibition in town soon. It’s called ‘All gold that glitters’ - I don’t know if you’ve heard about it?”
Giyuu studied you for a moment, the silence just a few seconds short of becoming awkward. “Most of the display will be Gustav Klimt.”
Excited, you said, “Exactly! Once I heard it would be here, I wanted to see his works up close… Though I don’t know if I will get in. A friend told me the tickets might be sold out already. The painter is very famous after all.” All your energy evaporated as you realized the futility of the situation. “The crowds would be too much too… I’m sorry for rambling. I don’t know what has gotten into me.” You tried to laugh it off.
Giyuu looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. “You aren’t much for crowds either?”
You nearly sighed in relief when he accepted your diversion. It amazed you how receptive he was with these hints despite appearing stoic.
You smiled at him, “Not really. It sometimes gets too much. Even at work I…”
Even with your brief stumble in the conversation, you both enjoyed talking to each other for a long while. The topics flowed from one to another again, there wasn’t ever a lull in you sharing your thoughts. The gentle atmosphere of the restaurant added to your ease.
You were comfortable with him. And that surprised you - how quickly you let down your walls in front of a…
He could no longer be called a stranger. The time you spent together at the gala made you friends in your eyes. This outing was a date - could you say he was your boyfriend?
The food arrived, interrupting your thoughts.
His salmon with daikon looked delicious, and Giyuu must have thought so too, for he dug in very quickly, barely muttering out an “Itadakimasu,” before he munched away. You slowly started eating as well, looking at him.
Your face felt hot as you watched him. He looked so cute; he was clearly enjoying each bite, his cheeks full of the food.
He looked up only once, and he spoke, but you were not able to understand a word he said, his words sounding like gibberish to your ears. You could only giggle; you had never thought a gentleman like Giyuu would do this.
“Sorry, sorry,” you looked down at your food with a secretive smile. It was endearing to see him so unguarded. Though you had to say that he seemed relaxed in your presence, that pleased you greatly.
You ate in silence, each stealing glances at the other.
One glance at him bestowed a gift upon you that you never thought you would see, yet again. Giyuu was smiling while he ate his dish. Not only that. He was a messy eater, little bits of the food sticking on his cheeks. He looked absolutely adorable. You were smiling wide and you had a sudden impulse - one which you acted upon.
Giyuu froze when you leaned forward, rising from your seat a little. The blue dress clung to your chest, trying to contain your breasts from spilling over, digging into your skin a little.
He forced his eyes away from your cleavage, staring you in the face instead, but you were focused on his lips-? Were you about to-?
You reached out, thumb wiping at his cheek gently, and sat back down.
“You had a bit of rice on your face,” you grinned and ate the grain off of your thumb.
His face was red, blush stretching all the way to his ears.
Giyuu realized that he was in trouble, because something happened - something he didn’t account for.
He fell, hard.
“Where are we going?”
Giyuu had picked you up at your apartment, dashing as always in his black clothes. You didn't know how he did it, but everything looked so elegant on him - even if it was just a short-sleeved fitted shirt and black pants.
"You'll see."
He'd offered you his arm, ever the gentleman, as you walked to his car.
The two of you were a study in contrast, he thought. Where Giyuu was the dark, you were the light. You’d chosen a white sundress today, loose and airy - innocent and pure. A white rabbit hopping around in its meadow of flowers, unaware of the presence of a predator hiding in the shadows - a starved wolf, ready to pounce and claim the rabbit for its own.
The analogy reminded him of the fact he hadn’t given you any flowers yet. Fuck. He should’ve gone and bought you some before this date. Would you even appreciate flowers?
The drive was filled with warmth, despite the near-silence. It didn’t feel uncomfortable to not talk, you both were very much content.
Or at least you were.
Giyuu had an urge to place his hand on your thigh, but he didn’t want to overstep or break the atmosphere, the comfort you were both in.
In the end, his willpower won.
The car pulled into a side street, and you drove through a steel bar gate, the gate-keeper nodding at Giyuu respectfully. It made you curious where you were going. A small part of you rang warning bells - you didn’t know where you were and you didn’t know what would happen to you. But you trusted him, despite meeting with him only twice so far - today being the third. You hoped your trust was not misplaced.
Giyuu parked and turned off the engine, quickly getting out of the car and locking it when you reached for the handle. You looked at him in confusion, but then he was on your side, opening the door for you. Like a gentleman.
Blood rushed to your cheeks as you smiled at him. How could you have doubted him? He was such a silly man, trying to be as accommodating as possible for you. Giyuu took your hand in his, a loose hold which you could get out of easily if you wanted to.
He led you inside through a clearly personnel-only door, making you curious what exactly he’d planned for you two.
An employee met you there, guiding you through various halls filled with wrapped… things? It looked like paintings but you couldn’t be sure.
“Enjoy your time,” the employee said, opening a door for you two at last. The light in the room turned on, reflecting golden hues off of every piece in the room.
This was it - ‘All gold that glitters’ was in front of you. But- it was supposed to open tomorrow, and there were no more tickets left, you’d checked, so how-?
You’d subconsciously stepped inside, letting go of his hand. You slowly looked around in awe, tears gathering in your eyes. You felt as if your soul had been caressed by Giyuu’s warm hands.
Here, illuminated by the professional lighting and surrounded by paintings, the only art he saw was you. You spun in a circle, your loose skirt flaring up a little, your eyes sparkling as you took in the exhibition - devoid of life, sans the two of you. If he hadn't fallen for you already, he would have now.
Giyuu closed the distance, taking your hand in his again, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Your excited expression made all the trouble he went through to get you both here worth it.
Nevertheless, he asked, "Do you like it?"
You beamed. "I love it!"
You tugged at his hand, nearly skipping over to the first piece, absolutely delighted.
Flitting from piece to piece, you eventually let go of each other, content to enjoy the art at your own paces. There was no rush, no one to interrupt you two, you were there alone; just the two of you and the art.
You stood in front of Fulfillment, admiring the patterns. Each painting, each art piece, had a meaning and was supposed to evoke something in the viewer. Staring at the embrace of the two lovers, it gave you the same feeling you had when Giyuu took your hand for the first time - today. Dancing with him didn’t count, the restaurant didn’t count, that was you reaching out to him. Today was him seeking you out.
Butterflies danced in your tummy as you smiled.
“Enjoying yourself?”
You looked at him, your smile widening. “Yes. You don’t know how special this is for me,” you admitted, walking closer to Giyuu. Glancing to the side, your cheeks felt hot. He was standing in front of the arguably most famous piece by Gustav Klimt.
The Kiss.
Giyuu remained silent.
You took in the details of the painting - the flowers, the position, the intimacy. You wished you’d be kissed like that, at least once in your life. An image flashed in your mind’s eye - of Giyuu holding you exactly like that, of kissing you exactly like that - and you had to blink and look at him again to make sure it was just a daydream, and not reality.
He was staring, his focus not on you as a whole, but on your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat.
There was conflict in his eyes when they met yours. It seemed as if the world held its breath for the two of you.
The distance closed slowly as you gravitated towards each other, separate galaxies a hair’s width away from becoming one. So close yet so far.
You closed your eyes. Warmth touched your soul.
The first kiss was but a peck to the corner of your lips; your head tilted back slightly, one of his hands cradling the nape of your neck, the other cupping your jaw. You exhaled shakily. The first became second, right on the lips, soft and feather-light; then third, the air shared between the two of you.
There was a mist inside your mind, your thoughts incorporeal yet comforting, encompassing you in a blanket of Heavens. It didn’t feel wrong, nothing about this felt wrong; it was just right, being with Giyuu felt right. Each kiss stole your breath and returned it to you in the same second.
Giyuu felt as if life was filling his lungs for the first time in forever. Your warmth was everything, absolutely everything to him. You were so receptive to him, eyes closed and completely pliant in his hands. It felt as if you were made from the thinnest layer of gold leaf and one wrong move, one wrong touch would crumple you up, eternally lost.
Only when you both were nearly gasping for breath did you pull away. Giyuu was cradling you in his arms tenderly, a bright blush on his face, and you were hanging onto him for dear life, your own cheeks flushed.
It was a moment of understanding that you stood at the edge of something great blooming between the two of you, and neither wanted to stop it.
Giyuu signed the death certificate, numb.
Urokodaki Sabito, aged 28, dead.
The pen rolled off the table and clattered onto the ground but he didn't care. The slight incessant ache in his arm hardly bothered him, the ache where his heart was felt like a more life-threatening wound than a mere scratch.
Sabito had nothing to do with the Ubuyashiki family, except being the relative and a friend of its members; Urokodaki Sakonji's only adopted son and Tomioka Giyuu's very best friend lay dead, the corpse long gone cold in the morgue.
It had happened so fast too.
One moment, Giyuu and Sabito were talking about Sabito’s upcoming wedding, the next, both were diving for cover as bullets flew overhead. Sabito had had some training from Urokodaki, though he'd steered clear of the true depth of mastery despite his clear talent at it. He'd always been better than Giyuu, at everything.
So why?
Why was Sabito dead and Giyuu alive?
Why was Giyuu still breathing and Sabito's chest forever stilled?
More importantly, who targeted him - them? Why had they done so?
Were they going to strike again?
Oh no…
Not [Name].
Anything, anyone, but her.
He wanted to shout, to scream - She has nothing to do with this! Leave her alone!
He knew, however, that it would be in vain. Whoever targeted them had done so very deliberately. They knew who would be where and at what time.
And they could get to you too.
No.
He could not allow that to happen. He'd just gotten his first taste of you, an ambrosia for a mere mortal.
And it wasn't even by his own making. It had been Sabito who'd forced him to approach you that night of the gala. He'd noticed Giyuu was following you around like a lost puppy all evening. He'd noticed and acted on it.
Sabito's interference led to a few of his happiest days in his life - the gala itself, the dinner, the museum, and the days spent texting one another.
All this could be lost with a short crack of thunder, a bullet released from the barrel of a gun - so disgraceful in these parts, where family conflicts were best solved honorably, with swords.
He could not allow it to happen - no, he would not allow it to happen. He felt an intense hunger, his teeth ached with the need to bite, to tear flesh to shreds of those who would even think of hurting you, of those who would even look at you.
Giyuu's mind spiraled, a maelstrom pulling everything in reach down to treacherous depths. Plans made and discarded, his hand reached for his phone before he knew it, dialing your number before he could stop it.
"Hi," came your voice. Giyuu closed his eyes, enjoying the simplicity of hearing you, the knowledge you were still alive and well making his heart beat like a drum. "What's up?"
"Are you home?"
"Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?" Hearing the concern in your voice would have made his chest feel warm normally, but this time the warmth was brought by the fact you were home, home meant safety… at least for a little while. He needed to get you close, to hold you in his arms.
His eyes snapped open. “I have something planned for us.”
"Planned? It's so sudden… It is a little late now but-"
“You just have to trust me," he interrupted you. “Understood?” He'd never used this tone of voice on you, the mask of a killer slipping on subconsciously.
There was a brief moment of silence. "Alright, Giyuu… I trust you.”
I trust you.
He hoped you’d trust him with your safety and life too.
“Thank you, dear. Wear that red dress for me.”
He hung up, texting you his address along with 'Take your time' in the same breath.
Giyuu had some preparations to make, after all.
You got out of the car - a driver he’d called for you, making you wonder just what his job was to have these connections - and stared at the house. You checked your maps, and it was indeed the address Giyuu had given you.
The house was much bigger than you thought it would be. Sure, he was an elegant man, always put together but nothing about him screamed fancy… Okay, maybe a little. But this was a whole another level of-
The door opened.
Your heart leaped in your chest, a smile rising to your face. Giyuu looked- your smile wobbled a little - he looked like he carried the whole world on his shoulders. You hurried to his side, clutching your purse and the wine you found in your storage - you wanted to bring at least something when visiting his home for the first time. Now it seemed you’d be drinking away some stress instead of celebrating life.
“Are you alright?”
Instead of answering, he pulled you close, hugging you tightly, as if you’d run away from him if he was just a touch gentler. He buried his head into your neck, breathing you in. “You look beautiful… As beautiful as a rose in a bouquet…”
Yet another thing he failed to do… He didn’t prepare any flowers for you again. He kept ruining everything, didn’t he?
You hugged him back awkwardly, the things in your hands a bit uncomfortable to hold at the same time.
Giyuu took a deep breath and pulled back enough to guide you inside. He closed the door and locked it. You placed the bottle and your purse both on the shoe cabinet at the side and embraced him again. He seemed to really need it.
A moment later, he whispered. “Maybe that’s a wrong metaphor. You aren’t just one of many. You deserve to be the sole focus of the beholder…” His hold on you tightened again. “The beholder being me.”
His tone of voice made you shiver a little. Giyuu seemed to still be out of it. You had never seen him being as clingy or heard him speak as possessively as you did now.
“You’re mine, right?”
The question was a bit out of character to how you knew him. He was usually so reserved and soft with you. You didn’t hate it per se, but it was certainly strange. “Of course.”
“That’s right, you’re mine. Never doubt that you’re mine and only mine.”
You were a little confused about why he was like this, but you stayed silent.
“You never know who you can trust these days.”
You shivered again. “Giyuu, maybe we should sit down, yeah? Where..?”
He stepped back and knelt at your feet, one of his hands raising your foot gently, the other pulling the straps of your shoes loose. Both heels fell to the ground, and he left them there, laying in the middle of the hall.
He stood up and took your hand in his, fingers intertwined and grip tight as if he never wanted to let go. Giyuu led you inside in a hurry, taking you through a spacious living room and up the stairs to- his bedroom?
“Don’t be afraid. You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said lowly. “I’d never hurt you, my dear.” The pet name made blood rush to your cheeks.
Giyuu sat at the edge of the bed, guiding you to the space beside him, still clutching your hand.
“Giyuu, I know you’re probably going through something… You don’t have to tell me. But I’m here for you, you know that, right?”
He nodded. You both stayed silent for a time. Your thoughts kept looping back, trying to think of what could be going on in his head. You realized you knew him, but at the same time you knew nothing about him.
His voice interrupted your train of thought. “I worry a lot for you.”
You tilted your head, looking at him, “I worry for you too.”
Giyuu’s face relaxed minutely. He let go of your hand, stood up and grabbed you by your waist, moving you up the bed to lay on it, as he hovered above you, supporting his weight on his left hand beside your head. “From all the people I met in my life, from the billions I could have had - you are the One, and you are perfect. You’re perfect for me.” His right hand cupped your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. His eyes half-lidded, he leaned down for a slow and soft kiss.
The kiss was everything to him.
When he pulled back, you said, “I’m just me… I can’t be perfect.” Yet he made you feel like you were.
His eyebrows twitched, as if he held back a frown. “Don’t ever doubt your worth, lovely.”
The next kiss was just as slow as the previous one, but deeper, more sensual. It stole your breath away and conjured a fog over your mind; all you could focus on was him.
Giyuu trailed his lips over your jaw, pausing by your ear to whisper, “Nobody else can touch you but me.”
“Yessss…” you hissed lowly in a daze, arching your head back, allowing him to continue kissing down your neck unobstructed.
“I’ll have to warn you, my dear, I am the jealous type,” he murmured against your pulse point. You wondered if he could feel it drumming against his lips.
Giyuu bit down hard. You cried out in a mix of pain and surprise, waking up from the dreamy headspace he’d lulled you into.
“Giyuu!” You tried to struggle, but he held onto you, licking away the ache his teeth brought. Where before anticipation made your heart race, now it was fear, but you could only tremble in his grasp. There was no escaping the wolf now, and the wolf was starving.
He knew the effect this had on you. He knew that he wasn’t being as careful as he should be. It made his heart clench but it had to be done. He had to show everyone you were his. “There is no need to be scared as long as I’m here, my dear. I won’t hurt you and I won’t let anyone else touch you.” He won’t ever let you go.
You tried to slap him when he pulled back enough but he just caught your hand by the wrist, pulling it closer and kissing your palm gently. He maintained eye contact all the while, trailing his lips to the pulse point of your wrist. Your heartbeat grew faster against your will, the sensuality and intimacy of his gesture not lost to you.
His other hand reached into the back pocket of his pants, taking out a familiar green and yellow turtle shell necktie. "Please, don’t struggle so much," he whispered.
Giyuu placed the tie next to your head.
"You don’t want to see me angry, do you?"
You shook your head, this new version of him scaring you and arousing you at the same time. It was intoxicating.
Would you even be allowed to speak? Did that count as ‘struggling’? You didn’t want to test his patience.
“Strip.” He leaned back, sitting on your thighs and waiting for you to obey.
You couldn’t deny him. You knew he was strong, too strong to fight off or resist. You knew he’d take what he wanted regardless of what you tried to do. It was hot, your body felt hot all over. You felt like a freak for enjoying this, shame burning in your stomach as you undid the zipper on your side.
Giyuu watched you, eyes dark, while he himself undid the buttons on his black dress shirt one-handed. He shrugged off the material just as your dress slipped off your shoulders, leaving both of you bare from waist up.
He was covered in lean muscle, a few scars on his torso- his biceps was in a bandage, a bloodied bandage. Your eyes focused on it, but he was focused on something else entirely.
Giyuu took your hands and bound them to the headboard with the green tie. You tried to wiggle out of them but he only smirked, dragging the red dress off of your figure, leaving you only in your panties.
"I never do something halfway, my dear, and I do need to prepare you for me," he murmured against your lips, his hand slipping under the seam of your silky panties. You were wet since before he'd led you to bed, too excited at seeing him, too turned on by his voice and scent. Now it only made you feel shame, for it made things easier for him.
But you couldn't truly say you hated what he was doing, especially when his nimble fingers slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the feeling, and he stilled for a moment.
"Does it hurt?" You shook your head, spreading your legs wider.
Giyuu swept his thumb through your wet pussy lips to circle at your clit in soft and slow motions. He studied your face for any discomfort as he started to pump slowly.
"How do you want me to fuck you? Hard and fast or soft and slow? I will do whatever you ask of me, my dear." He curled his fingers inside of you, trying to find the spot that should make-
You moaned, flinching away from the shock of pleasure.
Giyuu swore later that your moans were the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard in his life; they were the only art a killer like him could create, and he intended to make a masterpiece of you.
As his right hand worked you up, he leaned down to kiss and bite at your throat, the vibrations against his lips feeling like Heaven on Earth.
His fingers played you like a string instrument, each flick and movement and curl dragging you higher and higher against your will, your moans pitching and breaking and finally cutting off in a silent scream as you came all over his hand.
"Beautiful…"
Giyuu withdrew his fingers, glistening with your cum, and brought them to his face, studying how the slick created a gooey string between them as he spread them apart. You had to look away from the lewd display, making his eyes snap back to your face.
You heard his belt buckle open, his weight briefly disappearing from your side. When the bed dipped again, his rough warm palms traced a path down your body, from your breasts, over your stomach, thumbs catching the fabric of your panties and pulling them down, down, down… off.
"To say you’re special is an understatement, [Name]," he whispered, spreading your legs and settling between them.
Your whole body trembled, your arms tugging at your restraints again, but you were too weak, your orgasm chipped away at any strength you had left to truly resist him.
“You don’t just make me want you…" His lips kissed along your neck with feather-light touches, breath hot against your skin. "…You make me need you.”
…Fuck if his confession didn't make you clench around nothing. Your mind fought against your heart and body in a three-way war, each trying to one-up the other. Your heart told you how deep you had fallen for him, how this was as good as a love confession. Your brain warned you you were in trouble, your boyfriend had lured you inside and was about to use you. Your body sang for the future pleasure he would bestow upon you, his talented fingers proving his skill.
"I'm keeping you here… for your own good."
What? No- and Oh yes, please-! echoed in your mind.
"You will stay with me, you will never leave me, you will be safe here."
Oh, but how could you fight this?
"I love you."
I love you.
Giyuu kissed you on the lips, deeply and passionately, setting you on fire with his touch.
You could feel him - feel his cock - against your body.
You could only shake in his all-encompassing arms.
He realized you were scared - of him. "I won’t harm you… I won’t ever, ever even think of harming you."
He kissed you again. He kissed you as if he needed it, needed you just to survive, like he needed you more than air itself. It was like he tried to devour you, a hungry wolf and a sweet rabbit.
And then he was sliding in. He'd prepared you to take him; even then the stretch was nearly too much anyway.
Giyuu slurred out a curse against your lips, the feeling of finally being enveloped by your snug warmth too much. His mind was nearly breaking, he'd never felt so loved, so intimate, so close to someone than he did as he bottomed out inside of your sopping wet cunt.
"You're perfect," he breathed out shakily, resting his forehead against yours.
He started slowly, letting you feel him inch by inch. You swore you could feel him in your throat, each glide felt as if he was pushing your organs apart, rearranging you from the inside to his liking.
Oh, but was it a delight. Fireworks exploded behind your lids every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot, earthquakes rocked your world, waves of pleasure crashed against each nerve under your skin. He set you aflame and quenched you in the same stroke.
You sang pretty moans for him, Giyuu joining you in the duet of passion the two of you shared. Skin rubbed against skin, sweat beaded at your brows, air was shared - Giyuu tilted his head and kissed you again, and again, and again.
He stole your heart, he stole your pleasure, he stole your breath, he stole you and yet…
“Let go for me, my dear-” he ground out between his teeth.
You went out with a whimper.
Toes curled, back arched, but all you could do was take it as Giyuu continued to thrust, chasing his own release inside your heat.
He kept staring at your blissed out face. "I'm gonna-" One, two, three slams of his hips and he released a shaky moan, spilling his seed deep into your pussy. "…stuff you full of my love."
The warmth of him inside, the firm muscles against your thighs, his scent, the dripping sweat-
He hadn't even asked if he could cum inside. He hadn't asked if you were on the pill. He truly intended to keep you, didn't he?
"I love you, my dear."
Tears welled up in your eyes and fell one by one down your cheeks. But damn him, you loved him too. You'd fallen in love with him, and he'd become your captor.
Giyuu slowly leaned even closer to embrace you. “Shhh, this was meant to be, my dear.” He buried his face into your neck. The kiss he placed there was wet with his own tears.
What was he crying about? You were the one he was going to shackle down. You were the one with no way out. You were the one losing everything but him.
“I know this will take some time to adjust to.”
How else was he supposed to keep you from harm? There was no other way. He couldn’t regret it, wouldn’t regret it.
“In the end… all you have left is-” he leaned closer to your ear, “me.” Giyuu buried his face in your neck again, taking in your scent and listening to your heart beat - steady and well. Alive.
You were far safer with him, under his roof - in your now-shared bedroom.
“It’s better this way.”
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He would make sure you had everything you needed.
You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...
Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader
Word count: 7,9k
Masterlist | Part 2
Just a few more miles, just a few more…
You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul.
Uzui Tengen.
Your husband.
One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying.
He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact.
Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he-
No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other.
But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order.
The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.
You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.
The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you.
You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.
Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.
You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach.
You couldn’t wait.
Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much.
What’s going on?
“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.
He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?
“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women.
You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-
In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-
“Lord Tengen, who is this?”
The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.
A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together.
Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?
Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back.
His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home.
“Lord Tengen?”
The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.
“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.
Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you? Who are these women and why are they with my husband?
“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”
And with just one word - wives wives WIVES - he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name.
“Forever? You promise?”
“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”
It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.
Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.
Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with-
Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?
You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.
“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.
Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.
In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”
The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-
“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-”
His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders.
“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-”
Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”
“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-”
You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.
“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.
And you weren’t immune.
You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two.
As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating.
“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.”
He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck.
You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”
He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.
But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.
"Tengen, breathe."
Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again.
More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"
His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.
"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.
Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.
“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him.
You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.
For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.
There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?
You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?
What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?
You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it.
“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.
You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open.
“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.
“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.
You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention.
Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.
It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.
Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.
The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it.
Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.
The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.
Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.
Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?
You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.
There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time?
Could you handle being the fourth wife?
You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday.
You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.
The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.
A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”
For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.
In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.”
He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.
Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.
“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”
He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”
You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.
Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.
“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.
Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.
You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.
The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.
You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.
The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.
“Oh, precious…”
Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.
“-ious? Precious, please answer me-”
You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”
He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you.
Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.
Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.
“Precious, please, tell me-”
The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.”
“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”
“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”
‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.
“Can I touch you?”
You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives.
“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”
Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.
The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.
His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.
He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.
Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-
His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.
His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-
His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.
You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.
And then there was a kiss.
Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.
"[Name]!"
You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit.
Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.
“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.
The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive.
His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain.
Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.
You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.
“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.
His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.
Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”
Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.”
His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.
You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…
His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.
“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”
Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.
A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso…
Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves.
You flinched-
He made a sound of distress.
- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.
You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”
This is nothing.
The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.
This is nothing.
The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.
This is Nothing.
You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.
This Is Nothing.
Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.
This Is NOTHING.
You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out.
THIS IS NOTHING.
You vomited.
“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”
The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”
“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”
“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy.
His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.
Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.
“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus.
What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.
What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.
What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.
“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.
“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”
You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.
“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.
“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-”
The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.
He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.
You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.
“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.
You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?
At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.
An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”
Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.
You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”
“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.
That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway.
With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded.
Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.
“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside.
When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.
Something drew your attention though.
There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.
His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips.
The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.
“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”
His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.
“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.
You paused - and nodded.
One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.
Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes.
“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.”
When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.
“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.
You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.
“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious."
You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.
Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.
He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”
His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs.
Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently.
His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.
The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.
“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.
The thickly-wound knot snapped.
Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.
“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”
Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”
You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind.
He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.
“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.
“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.
“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.
He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.
“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”
“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”
“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.
You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…”
Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.”
He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.
His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.
You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.
“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.
“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between.
“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently.
The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.
“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”
The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.
There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.
The girl wraps him around her little fingers and never lets go.
Tags: hurt/(comfort), fluff, pregnancy mention, Giyuu being a girl-dad, 3rd person POV (F!Reader as background character), Giyuu being whipped (OOC because he's with his kid c'mon)
Word count: 1,4k
Masterlist
AN: So the age of consent in Japan was 13 til recently (it's 16 now), which is super weird, but I had to check before I wrote this to fit the KNY timeline. This is set in Taisho era so everything is legal, tyvm. Shamisen is a japanese string instrument.
Now have a hurty fluff.
Written for Girl dads collab of @suyacho
Having a child before Muzan was dealt with was not in his cards, at least that's what he had thought… until a tryst with one of the kakushi happened and he was to become a father. It was humiliating - his lack of control - and the guilt he felt towards the kakushi for ruining her for any other future was great, weighing him down more than the mantle of a Pillar.
He hadn’t wanted to marry so young either, but shame would have destroyed him, his shame would have destroyed her - he thought - so he married her on a white January day, her belly round and full with his child- his child!
It was born a week after his eighteenth birthday. He wasn’t there for it. He wasn’t anywhere in the prefecture the Butterfly mansion was in either; he was on the other end of Japan taking care of a demon, while another future ghost to haunt him was being born.
Giyuu arrived back at the Water estate at the end of March, his wife sleeping beside the baby on a futon. He had only wanted to check if his wife hadn’t burned the house in his absence but the sight struck a cord in him, like a shamisen being plucked by Fate's fingers, playing him to its pleasure and none his own.
The baby was… cute; hair midnight black, tiny hand clinging to its mother’s hand, a picture of perfect innocence that reminded him of the reason why he fought so hard, why he hunted demons for living.
This. All of this.
His eyes focused on his wife; it was still strange to refer to anyone as his. Her eyes had deep bruises under them, indicating a severe lack of sleep, her hair disheveled, and sleeping yukata askew. One of her breasts had a wet spot on it - she must be dripping milk, he realized.
Giyuu had likely not seen her in a less put-together state and yet, she was pretty. His lips pressed together as he mulled over that thought, silently slipping from the room to bathe and sleep as well.
They would talk in the morning, he decided.
Giyuu left three days later.
He didn’t get to speak to his wife, because the moment he stepped in to hold his baby for the first time, she gave a sigh of relief and fell asleep right away - sitting up, leaning on one of the columns holding up the roof. How could he wake her, when she was so obviously clinging to the last fraying strands of her sanity?
He took a seat beside her and stared at his child - his child.
Kocho had left him a message, somehow knowing Giyuu would have no social graces nor time to speak to his wife. It read:
Congratulations, Tomioka-san. Your baby girl was born healthy, and the name picked for her is Shizuku. Treat her well. - Kocho Shinobu
Tomioka Shizuku.
He would treasure her above himself.
Though he promised himself that, Giyuu remained mostly absent from Shizuku’s early life, working overtime to keep his prefecture as demon-free as he could; he even set up a nightly patrol near his residence with Ubuyashiki to keep his flesh and blood safe.
The times he came home, he spent every waking moment with his child - playing with her, teaching her to call him papa, to say her own name. He drew pictures with her, helped her take her first steps, took her to town on 'adventures'. He was dutiful; no matter the task, if it involved his Shizuku, his child, he would do it.
As she grew up, now nearly three years old, he often took her to the garden, training but making in fun for her - so far, Shizuku liked it the most when he did pushups and she ‘braided’ his hair while sitting on his back. She also loved to watch him practice swordsmanship, absolutely captivated by his movements with the bokken, little mouth hanging open as she sat in the shade of a tree. After his katas, which often earned him an applause for his 'performance', he had a ‘tea party’ under the same tree with her, telling her stories - embellished, of course - about his demon slaying, how he learned total concentration breathing, and other such tales from his life - all wrapped in a fairy tale way.
Giyuu thought Shizuku took them as just stories.
Until…
He was getting ready to leave - Ubuyashiki had called a Hashira meeting - when he reached for his haori only to find it gone. Frantic, his thoughts went to his wife - did she put it in the laundry? Only, checking the 'dirty' basket, it wasn’t there; checking the line of clothing hanging outside, it wasn’t there.
Where is it?!
A panicked search inside of his estate yielded nothing. He couldn’t even ask his wife because she was in the town - he was set to leave when she returned so there could always be someone in the house for Shizu-
Shizuku!
Where was she? Nowhere inside. The garden?
Giyuu swiftly made his way to the place he spent most of the time with his daughter.
Sure enough, Shizuku was there, his haori dwarfing her frame as she tried to replicate his meditation exercises. Relief flooded his chest, a smile overtaking his face as he stepped closer to her.
“I believe you have something of mine, Shizu-chan,” he said, crouching in front of her, not making any move to take his clothing back.
The little girl quickly reached behind her for the bokken - which she also stole, he noted - and leaped at him with a mighty battle cry. “I’m the great Wa’er Pillar, demon! It’s you who stole som’thing from me!”
Acting startled, Giyuu put his everything into making the landing soft for her as he ‘tumbled’ backwards, ‘crying’ out dramatically, “Oh nooo- this foe is too strong for one as puny as I! This must be my end!” His uniform was probably dusty now, but he could shake it out later.
“Ahahaha! Fear me - and die!” Shizuku had let go of the bokken during their ‘fight’ so she used her tiny fists to beat his chest, laughing and squealing in joy at having bested the ‘demon’.
Seeing her smile made his departure all the more bittersweet.
Any day he could die, but this joy would guide him in the moments he breathed.
Giyuu sat up, laying her onto his thighs and tickling her neck, a soft smile still playing on his lips at her adorable face, so much like his own. Blue eyes the same share, black hair in two small braids he had done for her that morning - his daughter.
“Now that the demon is slayed, the mighty Water Pillar needs to go on to do his job, my little clam. So I will be confiscating the haori you’re wearing,” he told her, tugging the garment off her body easily as it was so big on her, leaving her pouting.
“Do you really need to go?” Her pout was not making it any easier.
Nevertheless, he remained patient and gentle. “I’ll be back soon, so don't worry, Shizu-chan.” Giyuu picked her up with one arm, throwing the haori over his shoulder with his other hand, and carried her to the engawa. Shizuku sat dutifully and let him dust her off. “Besides, you have your mother here.”
He took off his jacket and shook out the dirt, nearly missing her whisper. “But mama is not papa.”
Giyuu put everything together on himself - her soft sniffles nearly clogging his throat with heartbreak - and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Shizu-chan, do you know what papa is?”
She nodded, “A pillar.” Tears glistened on her face.
“Yes, but papa is also brave.” What a big fat lie. “And do you know what Shizu-chan is?”
“Nu-uh.”
He squeezed her hands briefly. “You’re just like papa - a brave warrior. I need you to be brave for me, Shizu-chan. I need you to protect our home while I’m gone. Can you do that for me?”
She wiped her face with one of her sleeves and nodded. “I’ll be like papa and protec’ mama.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Having a child before Muzan was dealt with was not in his cards, he used to think, but perhaps, being a father was not all that bad.
dividers by the amazing @benkeibear
network: @enchantedforest-network
Part 2 will be focused on Giyuu's relationship with his wife (the mother) when? idk
