Reader’s gender and age isn’t stated but reader is older than Tanjiro and Nezuko, thinking about 18 years old
Dynamic with the siblings
They adore you, absolutely worships the ground you walk on
Remember Tanjiro’s Mr. Giyuu? That’s both of them with you
They’re your little ducklings 🥰
Both of them are relatively clingy, but Nezuko is definitely more open about it than Tanjiro
You absolutely have to force him to relax and rest, especially when he bends over backwards to help everyone
Both of them like to sneak into your bed and lay there with you, just like they did before Muzan came
They’re your #1 supporters for life
Nezuko loves to turn into her toddler form and just be held by you
Tanjiro just holds your hand a lot, still remembering that he’s a child too. He can take a break
Dynamic with Kamaboko squad + Kanao and Genya
Sooo you’re the squads’ big sibling
You have to deal with their shenanigans that may or may not get a normal person killed
But good thing none of you are normal people
Inosuke wants to fight you for “leader”
Zenitsu begs you to tell him everything about Nezuko when she was a child
Genya gets so flustered around you and tries to push you away, but you really remind him of ‘Nemi before everything happened so he won’t fight back for long
Kanao was definitely the one to recognize the older sibling affection you have and silently asks for it like a puppy just begging with wide eyes
Dynamics with hashira
Mitsuri absolutely eats up all of the older sibling affection, she’s the eldest sibling herself but she wouldn’t mind experiencing being the younger sibling for a change
Shinobu really gets taken back to a time where Kanae was alive, it’s bittersweet for her but will never ask you to stop
Big brother giyuu finally gets a break.. wrong. He gets adopted into the sibling dynamics. He has no say
Obanai most likely doesn’t like you at all, but since you’re older he does tolerate you
Muichiro is adopted. Not by your choice. By his.
Kyojuro honestly asks you to watch over his younger brother for a bit since he certainly doesn’t want him alone in the house with his father
Gyomei is just very happy to be in the presence of a pure and loving sibling relationship from both sides
Tengen insists for you to be his student since your younger brother and his friends are so impressive
Sanemi mellows down with you, it’s honestly kinda scary but you make him nostalgic for a time before
Taisho era secret:
I heard that Muzan screamed when he saw you because he thought you were the first user of sun breathing
᯽ ── hear me out: giyū has absolutely no idea how to initiate sex. he’s hopeless at signaling desire—the closest you’ll get is a stilted, “your shoulders look tense,” before he attempts the most awkward massage known to man. he expects you to take it from there. if you don’t, he’ll just sit in silence, blinking those wide, ocean eyes at you, silently hoping you to connect the dots.
᯽ ── he’s equally terrible at picking up your hints. you could fake a yawn, stretch theatrically, even (seductively) beckon him toward the bedroom—he’ll only tilt his head and ask if you’re tired. so earnest about it he’ll kiss you goodnight and you can’t even be mad.
᯽ ── during sex, he is almost quiet to the point of austerity. the only sounds you get are stifled groans and sharp intakes of breath. over time, he gets better at letting himself go, but even then his repertoire is limited to groans and shuddered sighs—he never fully shakes the instinct to hold himself back.
᯽ ── as a switch, he doesn’t mind being bossed around.
᯽ ── his stamina borders on inhuman. doesn’t burn out quickly—can keep you pinned and stuffed full even as you’re clawing for purchase, nails carving pink ladders down his back. and when, against your better judgment, your pussy starts thinking louder than your brain and you beg for more, he gives it. he knows he probably shouldn’t, knows he’s already pushed you past your limit but that desire to please runs deeper. and the truth is, he wants it just as badly.
᯽ ── afterwards, he prefers to stay buried inside you it you allow it. likes the closeness and cuddling.
KOCHŌ SHINOBU
᯽ ── one thing you should know about shinobu is that she’s super blunt. words cut straight through you, softened only by the polite smile that rarely leaves her face. can say the filthiest things in the sweetest tone.
᯽ ── soft & cruel teasing is her nature.
᯽ ── will make you suck on her strap. oh and knowing shinobu, that thing is no ordinary toy. she had it made with a particular function in mind. the tip thickens into a subtle swell, modeled after the bulbus glandis. it locks her inside you when she thrusts deep, your body clenching and refusing to let her go once the swell is lodged inside.
᯽ ── petite in build, and she likes being on top every time. she likes control. her dainty fingers can’t reach far, but she knows what to do with them.
RENGOKU KYŌJURŌ
᯽ ── kyōjuro is passionate in all things he deems important. sex is no exception.
᯽ ── he is very vocal & enthusiastic in bed, overflowing with praise and declarations. puts everything he has into each round and his fiery eyes blaze so brightly you half-expect him to combust.
᯽ ── always wearing a big smile on his face even when he’s rearranging your guts.
᯽ ── not very experimental when it comes to positions. he sticks to what he knows works powerful and effective. he also prefers positions where he can see your face. missionary, lotus, anything that lets him stare into your eyes.
᯽ ── eager to please. even though he appears confident and living in his own world, kyōjuro pays attention to what you respond well to, since nothing makes him prouder than knowing he has satisfied you.
SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI
᯽ ── sanemi’s reputation precedes him. volatile and hot-headed, quick to snap at the lightest provocation. and yet in bed he is startlingly gentle. at least at first.
᯽ ── doesn’t take much convincing to get him to fuck nasty. you say the words and he goes feral. that crazed snarl cuts across his handsome face, and suddenly he is pounding his cock into you with brute force. the same look he wears while killing demons: wild and unhinged but completely focused. he makes a conscious effort not to push past the line into harm.
᯽ ── has a reluctant praise kink. easily flustered; ducks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pretending to be unmoved while he’s blushing and his cock is twitching inside you.
᯽ ── loud in bed. a grunter and a groaner. swears a lot but doesn’t call you degrading names.
᯽ ── aftercare isn’t very over-the-top, but for some reason i can imagine him making you drink water, one hand gently cupping at the base of your skull, the other guiding the cup to your lips when you’re too tired to lift it yourself.
UZUI TENGEN
᯽ ── tengen has godly stamina. hardly surprising, considering the man already juggles three wives before he met you. divides his time fairly with all his wives, but when it is your turn he makes sure you feel his love for you and are thoroughly satisfied.
᯽ ── an ass guy through and through. especially obsessed with backshots because he gets to admire the sight of your ass rippling every time his hips slam forward. likes to playfully spank you.
᯽ ── loves the sounds you make. the louder the better.
᯽ ── not stingy with praise. expect the adjective "flashy" to be used a lot.
᯽ ── has fucked you while putting you in a headlock (and will probably do it again)
᯽ ── always cums inside you because he secretly wants you to carry his first child.
᯽ ── you’ve established a small ritual where he pulls you on top of his chest, an arm curled around you. alone time he steals just for you.
KANROJI MITSURI
᯽ ── mitsuri blushes every time. you’d think it’s your first time together, the way her face turns beet red when you straddle her, blinking up at you with heart eyes.
᯽ ── sometimes she forgets herself, flips you over and rides you until her legs give out. (and then she gets very shy all of a sudden) you don’t complain because c’mon, just imagine the view.
᯽ ── touches her own breasts constantly, squeezing the hefty weight of them because she’s too embarrassed to ask you to do it. but when you do, she falls apart. flushed red to the tips of her ears, whimpering and whining "too much," though she arches desperately into your palms for more.
᯽ ── thanks to her freakish strength, she can pin you down without trying, and when she realizes what she’s done, she gets even more embarrassed, hands covering her face as if that could hide her.
᯽ ── eats you out with gusto. always shyly asks for your permission beforehand, and her eagerness makes her messy.
᯽ ── your praise makes her glow. pearlescent tears of joy gather in her lashes as she rides the high of your words.
᯽ ── likes to cuddle after sex, always the little spoon. oh and sweet snacks too.
IGURO OBANAI
᯽ ── where his words to others are venom, to you they are honey. praise spills uncharacteristically easily from his lips: how well you take him, how pretty you look stretched around him. the softness in his voice feels almost wrong, considering the sharp edge of his nature elsewhere.
᯽ ── self-conscious about his facial scar. took some convincing for him to remove the bandages, because you wanted to see him properly during sex. you start at the corner of his mouth and press a series of soft kisses along the length of it, until you reach the end. by god, he almost comes right then and there.
᯽ ── his favourite thing is drawn out intimacy. slow thrusts and steady eye contact. and hand holding !!! the kind of lovemaking that feels like it could last forever.
᯽ ── you are allowed to leave as many hickeys on his neck as you want. kaburamaru (the snake) coils across his shoulders after, concealing them from anyone else’s eyes.
᯽ ── extremely fastidious in aftercare. not very talkative but he’s very clingy.
HIMEJIMA GYŌMEI
᯽ ── his size alone makes you feel caged, his cock stretching you so good that you’re seeing stars. he apologises for it even as you moan his name.
᯽ ── his stamina is frightening: he can keep going long after your body gives out.
᯽ ── often cries after sex. silent tears rolling down his cheeks while he holds you close, murmuring how much he loves you.
᯽ ── the sweetest aftercare. not just cleaning and hydration i’m talking about massages, kisses and cuddles.
Demon Slayer Characters React to Drunk Y/N Complaining About Not Having a Boyfriend (While Being Married to Them)
I thought this would be sorta funny...
🌸 Hashira
🔹 Giyuu Tomioka → Blinks. “But… I’m your husband.” Watches as you dramatically flop onto the counter, groaning about how unfair life is. Giyuu, completely lost, gently pats your head and mumbles, “Did you forget?” You grab his haori and whine, “But everyone ELSE has one!” He sighs, picks you up, and places you on his lap. “I’m literally right here.” When you wake up sober, he’s staring at you expectantly, waiting for an apology.
🔹 Sanemi Shinazugawa → Nearly chokes on his drink. “Huh?! The hell did you just say?!” Stands there, completely baffled, as you cry into your ramen about how you’re “so lonely.” He yanks your face up and growls, “You’re married to ME, idiot!” If you keep whining, he’ll grab your face and kiss you aggressively just to shut you up. “Say that again, I dare you.” The next morning, you wake up to him giving you the silent treatment.
🔹 Kyojuro Rengoku → BURSTS OUT LAUGHING. “AH! MY LOVE, HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ME?!” Immediately picks you up and spins you around in his arms while declaring, “Fear not, for I shall be your boyfriend and husband both!” He’ll then spend the next hour showering you with compliments until you’re giggling again. The next morning, he teases you endlessly about it.
🔹 Tengen Uzui → “Oh? You don’t have a boyfriend? What a tragedy!” Smirks and plays along, even pulling out a fake tear. His wives giggle in the background as he dramatically sighs, “If only there were a dazzling, flashy man who would devote himself to you~” Eventually, he cups your face and whispers, “Oh wait. That’s ME.” The next morning, his wives keep reminding you of your ‘crisis’ just to fluster you.
🔹 Muichiro Tokito → Completely deadpan. “You’re married to me.” Watches as you dramatically sob into your drink. “You literally have a ring on your finger.” He tilts his head. “Do I not count?” You mumble, “You don’t count ‘cause you’re too perfect.” He pauses, blushes a little, then sighs. “You’re so dumb when you’re drunk.” Carries you to bed but secretly enjoys the attention.
🔹 Mitsuri Kanroji → GASPS. “OH NOOO, MY LOVE!!” Immediately cuddles you and reassures you that you’re the most loved person in the world. “I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND BOYFRIEND IF YOU WANT!!” She even makes a whole list of reasons why you’re adored. The next day, she excitedly asks if you remember her ‘love speech.’
🔹 Obanai Iguro → “...Are you serious?” Looks completely betrayed. You keep whining, not noticing how his grip on his cup tightens. “You’re MARRIED to me. How the hell do you not have a boyfriend?” When you drunkenly say, “You’re my husband, not my boyfriend,” he stares at you like you’ve committed a crime. Kaburamaru hisses in agreement. The next morning, he ignores you until you apologize properly.
🔹 Gyomei Himejima → Soft sigh. “I see.” Gently wipes your tears as you ramble about being ‘unloved.’ Then, with zero hesitation, he pulls you into his lap and starts listing all the ways he cherishes you. “You are loved beyond measure.” The next day, he reminds you that even in your drunkest moments, he will always reassure you.
🌓 Upper Moons & Muzan
🔹 Kokushibo → Silent for an entire minute. Stares at you as if you just grew another head. “You… do not have a boyfriend?” Watches you dramatically throw yourself onto the table. “Impossible.” Finally, he exhales deeply and pulls you against his chest. “You are MY wife. That is beyond a mere boyfriend.” The next day, he reminds you that your ‘foolish drunken words’ made him question your intelligence.
🔹 Douma → GASPS SO LOUDLY. “OH, HOW COULD THIS BE?!” Dramatically grabs you and cradles you while fake-crying. “HOW COULD YOUR BOYFRIEND ABANDON YOU LIKE THIS?!” Then he kisses your forehead. “Oh wait, that’s me~” He spends the next hour teasing you, calling himself your ‘brand-new’ boyfriend.
🔹 Akaza → “WHAT?!” Nearly falls out of his chair. “You—you don’t—Y/N, I’M RIGHT HERE!!” If you keep complaining, he grabs your face and forces you to look at him. “I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND. YOUR HUSBAND. SAY IT.” When you refuse, he gets pouty and hugs you from behind, sulking. The next morning, he’s grumpy until you remind him he’s your favorite.
🔹 Muzan Kibutsuji → Does not move. “Excuse me?” Raises an eyebrow as you drunkenly cry into your soup. Watches you go on and on about being ‘so single.’ Finally, he tilts your chin up, smirking. “Would you like me to find you a new boyfriend, then?” (Translation: Say yes, and you die.) The next day, you wake up to him watching you. “Say it again. I dare you.”
🎴 Main Three + Genya
🔹 Tanjiro Kamado → SO CONFUSED. “But Y/N… I’m right here?” When you keep whining, he gently takes your hand and kisses your wedding ring. “Does this not mean anything?” He patiently waits for you to realize before wrapping you in a warm hug.
🔹 Zenitsu Agatsuma → STARTS WAILING EVEN LOUDER THAN YOU. “YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND?! BUT YOU HAVE ME!!!!” Literally grabs your hands and shakes you. “DO I MEAN NOTHING TO YOU??” Probably ends up crying with you. The next morning, he reminds you dramatically of your betrayal.
🔹 Inosuke Hashibira → “WHAT?!” Looks around like he’s about to fight someone. “WHO STOLE MY GIRL?!” When you say, “No one, I just don’t have a boyfriend,” he snarls, “I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND, DUMBASS!!” (Is ready to throw hands with the air.) The next day, he’s grumpy and demands an apology.
🔹 Genya Shinazugawa → COMPLETELY SHORT CIRCUITS. “H-HUH?! BUT WE’RE M-M-MARRIED???” Face turns BRIGHT red. When you keep whining, he stammers, “B-But I thought—D-Does this mean nothing to you?!” When you wake up, he’s still sulking. “So… do you still think you don’t have a boyfriend?”
Demon Slayer characters x severely injured reader (angst!)
Giyuu
He doesn’t register the injury at first.
It’s only when he hears your strangled gasp — the one that sounds nothing like you — that his body locks up.
You collapse to the ground, and he’s still frozen. Not because he’s calm — because his mind refuses to believe this is real.
Once it hits, he’s all instinct. The enemy doesn’t last five seconds. His attacks are brutal, fast, and silent. There’s no mercy in his blade.
He drops to his knees beside you with shaking hands. He doesn’t speak at first — because he knows once he opens his mouth, he might fall apart.
“Don’t move.” That’s all he can manage. His voice is a broken whisper. “Just… don’t.”
His hands are covered in blood — yours and the demon’s — and he doesn’t know where to apply pressure first. He doesn’t know how to help you.
When you try to smile and joke, he flinches. He hates it. Hates how kind you are, even now. It’s killing him.
“I should’ve been faster.” He says it like a confession.
Not to you — to himself. He can’t stop replaying what he could’ve done.
When the others arrive, he won’t leave your side. Won’t let them move you until he’s sure you’re still breathing. He needs to feel your pulse.
That night, he doesn’t speak. Just sits at your bedside, sword resting against the wall, his head bowed in silence.
“If you die, I’ll never let anyone close again”
Rengoku
The moment he hears your scream, his face drops. It’s the first time his smile breaks in front of his comrades.
“No!!! —” He’s already sprinting toward you, yelling your name with panic that doesn’t sound like him at all.
You’re on the ground, eyes fluttering, body barely responsive — and he sinks to his knees, hands cradling your face like you’re made of glass.
“Stay with me, my love. Please.” His voice cracks.
He’s begging. Begging you like he’s never begged the gods for anything in his life.
He presses his forehead to yours, whispering “You’re going to be alright. Because I won’t accept anything else.” He needs to believe it.
When you tell him to go finish the fight, he refuses at first.
“No. I don’t care about the mission. Not more than I care about you.”
But when you insist, and beg him to protect the others, he finally stands — teeth clenched, heart in pieces. And he burns.
The enemy has no chance. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t shout. He just moves like fire unleashed — merciless, blinding, furious.
When he returns, he falls to his knees again. Not as a warrior. But as a man who thought he might lose the person he loves most.
“You are the brightest flame I have ever known.” He holds your hand through the night. And every hour, he checks to make sure you’re still warm.
Mitsuri
It hits her all at once. One second she’s fighting beside you, and the next, you’re crumpled, bleeding, and screaming her name.
“No no no no!” She drops everything. Tears instantly well in her eyes. The air is knocked out of her. It’s worse than any injury she’s ever had.
She slides beside you, arms wrapping around you gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here. I’m here, I’ve got you…”
But her voice is shaking.
She tries to stop the bleeding, but her hands are trembling so hard. “Please stop bleeding,” she whispers like it’s a prayer.
She starts sobbing right there, panic taking over her normally bubbly warmth. She doesn’t care who sees. You’re all that matters.
When you try to reassure her — even cracking jokes — she completely breaks.
“Why are you smiling? Don’t smile like that, it hurts too much!”
She blames herself. “If I’d just been a little faster, a little stronger… you wouldn’t be like this.” Her heart is cracking open.
Once the demon’s gone, she clings to you all the way back. Refuses to let anyone else carry you. “They don’t love you like I do,”she says.
She doesn’t leave your bedside for days. Her eyes stay pink from crying, but she keeps telling you happy things — even if you’re unconscious.
She braids your hair while you sleep.
And when you finally stir, the first thing you hear is her whispering: “Please never scare me like that again.
Sanemi
The moment he sees you hit the ground, everything else vanishes. The world is noise and red.
“NO—!”He screams your name like he’s being gutted.
He’s at your side in seconds, ripping off his haori, pressing it against the wound, cursing under his breath — “Shit. Shit. No. No, not you.”
“Stay with me, dammit!” He’s snarling like a feral dog. Not at you — at the world. At fate. At himself.
The demon tries to come at you again and Sanemi doesn’t just kill it — he butchers it. Screaming. Eyes bloodshot. His body trembling from rage.
He comes back to you, covered in gore, eyes wild. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. Don’t close your damn eyes, don’t you dare.”
You manage to whisper his name and he chokes on his own breath.
Suddenly he can’t speak. Can’t breathe. You’re still here — but barely.
“You stupid— argh!” He says it with tears in his voice. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you take that hit? That should’ve been me.”
When the Kakushi arrive, he nearly attacks them. “Don’t touch her.” His voice is deadly. He won’t let anyone else near you unless he trusts them completely.
He doesn’t cry. Not until you’re out of danger. And then, alone at night, he breaks down in silence, face in his hands.
“You don’t get to leave me.” He says it quietly, forehead resting against yours as you sleep.
“You’re the only good thing I’ve got left.”
Thank you so much for reading! 🩷 And thank you @wingcherry for the request!!
₊°ᗢ₊˚✧☕Writer's Note: Sorry, I didn't write for Tengen cuz hes already got 3 wives, I don't write poly and because I couldn't think of a scenario to write😭
The night was quiet, save for the steady hum of cicadas in the summer air and the faint crackle of incense burning nearby. The moon hung high, silver light spilling across the temple courtyard where Gyomei had asked you to meet him.
When you arrived, you found him waiting on his knees before the shrine, prayer beads clutched tightly in his massive hands. His head was bowed, lips murmuring a prayer so soft you almost didn’t catch it. You’d seen him pray countless times, but this felt… different. There was a trembling weight to it.
When he finally raised his head, you noticed his eyes shimmered, not just with moonlight, but with tears.
“Forgive me if my words come clumsy,” he rumbled, voice deep and fragile at once, “but I cannot keep them caged in my chest any longer.”
He reached for you then, carefully, like you were porcelain. Despite his immense size, his touch was feather-light as he guided your hands into his own. You felt the warmth of his calloused palms, the steady rhythm of his pulse, the unspoken devotion in the way he held you as if you were the most sacred thing in the world.
“All my life,” Gyomei began, tears rolling freely now, “I have prayed for strength to protect, to guide, to carry others’ burdens when they falter. And yet—” His voice cracked, his breath catching as he squeezed your hands gently. “—you have been the one to carry mine. Your laughter… your kindness… the way you simply exist has saved me more times than I dare admit.”
He bowed his head again, tears dripping onto your joined hands.
Then, with a trembling exhale, he shifted onto one knee. His size alone made the gesture overwhelming, the towering, unshakable Stone Pillar kneeling before you like a humble man with nothing but his heart to offer.
From the folds of his robes, he produced a small, hand-carved wooden box. It wasn’t polished gold or expensive velvet, it was simple, yet smooth and lovingly shaped, as if he’d worked on it late at night with nothing but patience and prayers. When he opened it, you saw a ring inside, the band etched with delicate lines resembling prayer beads, a tiny stone glimmering at its center like a captured star.
“I have little to give this world that is not strength,” he whispered, voice breaking under the weight of his tears. “But every part of me, my prayers, my days, my heart belongs to you. Will you… allow me the honor of spending the rest of my life at your side?”
The cicadas quieted, the incense smoke curled higher, and for a moment the whole world stilled, as if holding its breath for your answer.
And when you said yes, Gyomei sobbed openly, clutching your hands to his forehead as if he were giving thanks to the gods themselves. His tears stained your knuckles, but his smile, gentle, broken, radiant was brighter than the moonlight itself.
───────୨ৎ───────
The world was drenched in warm orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in fire. Rengoku had dragged you out to the fields just outside the city, saying he had something “most important” to show you.
He stood there, back lit by the sunset, his wild hair glowing like molten flame. His usual booming grin was on his face, but there was a certain nervous flicker in his eyes that you’d never seen before.
“[Name]!” he called, voice carrying like a war drum. “I’ve fought countless battles in my life! I have faced demons without fear and walked the edge of death itself!”
Then, in an uncharacteristic break, his voice softened, still strong, but trembling with raw emotion.
“Yet nothing has made my heart race like standing before you now.”
You blinked as he suddenly bent down, hands fumbling behind his back. When he straightened, he held something out proudly, a lacquered wooden box, decorated with a phoenix motif that he’d clearly burned into the surface himself.
But before he opened it, he grabbed your shoulders with surprising urgency, eyes blazing brighter than the sunset.
“You are my reason to keep moving forward! My fire burns brighter because you are by my side! Every moment I spend with you fills my chest with joy so strong, I could laugh until my voice breaks!”
And then Rengoku, the man who never once wavered in the face of death, actually blushed. His voice lowered, gentler, so unlike his usual roar that it made your chest ache.
“So please, allow me the honor of making you my family… for the rest of my days.”
With a decisive motion, he dropped to one knee. The box flipped open, revealing a golden ring with a ruby set in the middle, burning as fiercely as his spirit. The band itself looked like dancing flames, carefully crafted, shimmering with life.
He held it out, eyes locked on yours, and for the first time you saw vulnerability flicker in the flame.
“Will you marry me?”
The sunset behind him seemed to ignite, and in that moment you could swear the entire sky was cheering with him. When you said yes, his face lit up even brighter than the fiery horizon, and he laughed, a booming, joyous laugh that echoed across the fields. He scooped you up in his arms, spinning you around until your cheeks hurt from smiling.
“FLAME AND SOUL! TOGETHER FOREVER!!” he shouted to the sky, as if he wanted the gods themselves to witness it.
And honestly? You knew they did.
───────୨ৎ───────
It wasn’t candlelight or a sunset. It was late at night, just the two of you sitting on the engawa outside his home. The cicadas had gone quiet, and the air was cool enough that you could see your breath. Sanemi was sitting beside you, a flask of sake in his hand, scars catching the moonlight like pale threads stitched across his skin.
He hadn’t said a word for a while, which was unusual even his silences usually buzzed with tension, like he was daring the world to piss him off. But tonight? He just looked… restless.
Finally, he shoved the flask down and barked,
“Tch.. damn it. I can’t keep this in anymore.”
You blinked at him, startled, but before you could ask, he was already dragging a hand through his spiky white hair, jaw tight. His voice was sharp, but underneath it trembled something uncharacteristically fragile.
“I’m no good at this shit. I don’t… I don’t say things right. I’m rough, I’ve got more scars than I can count, and I’ve lost more people than I’ll ever admit.”
His fists clenched on his knees. He looked away, teeth gritted like the words were being dragged out of him.
“But you- damn it, you stuck around. You didn’t flinch when I pushed you away, didn’t run when I showed you the ugliest parts of me. And for some reason—” His voice cracked, low and raw. “—you made me wanna live for something other than fighting.”
He stood abruptly, pacing like a caged animal, then finally whipped around and dropped to one knee so fast it was almost clumsy. From his haori, he yanked out a little pouch, rough leather, clearly handmade. He shoved it toward you with shaking hands.
When you opened it, you found a silver ring, simple but strong, with little wind-carved etchings along the band that looked almost like scars, and yet somehow, beautiful.
Sanemi’s voice shook, but his eyes burned into yours with a ferocity that left no room for doubt.
“I ain’t promising perfection. Hell, I’ll probably screw up a thousand times over. But I’ll fight for you. I’ll bleed for you. I’ll protect you with every damn breath I’ve got left.”
Then, almost too soft to hear, he added
“…So marry me. Please.”
The word please broke something in your chest. Sanemi never begged. Never asked. But here he was, trembling, scars and soul laid bare, holding his heart out like a bloody offering.
When you whispered yes, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. He pressed his forehead to yours, rough hands cupping your face, muttering curses under his breath except this time, they weren’t angry. They were shaky little prayers, like “shit, I love you so much” and “don’t you ever leave me.”
And when he finally slipped the ring onto your finger, his lips brushed over your knuckles, not delicate, not practiced, but desperate. Real.
───────୨ৎ───────
The rain had just stopped, leaving the world dripping and fresh. You found Giyuu standing by the riverbank, where the moonlight shimmered across the water like liquid silver. He was always drawn to places like this. quiet, still, where words didn’t feel so heavy.
When he noticed you approaching, he shifted slightly, his haori swaying in the breeze. He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened, a gentleness reserved only for you. For a moment, the two of you stood side by side, listening to the water rush over stones.
Then, in his usual abrupt way, he spoke:
“There’s… something I need to say.”
His voice was low, almost drowned out by the river. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching as though the words themselves were sharp.
“I’ve spent most of my life… watching people disappear. Every time I cared, it was taken from me. Every bond I made was cut short.”
He glanced down, unable to meet your eyes, his brows furrowed like he was scolding himself.
“When you came into my life, I thought it would be the same. That if I let myself hold on, the world would tear you away too. So I tried—” his voice wavered, “—I tried not to hold on at all.”
Your chest ached as he finally turned toward you, and for the first time, you saw fear. not of demons, not of death, but of losing you.
Slowly, with shaking hands, Giyuu reached into his uniform and pulled out a small cloth pouch. He untied it with fumbling fingers, revealing a ring inside: silver, delicate, carved with a pattern that mimicked rippling waves. Clearly something he’d chosen carefully, even if he never said so.
When he looked at you again, his eyes glistened, not from the river’s reflection, but from unshed tears.
“I’m not good with words. I’m not… easy to be with. But I know this: I can’t imagine a world without you in it. And I don’t want to anymore.”
He swallowed hard, then dropped to one knee, his voice trembling as he held the ring out to you.
“So… will you stay? With me? For the rest of our lives?”
The river roared quietly in the background, but the silence between you was louder. When you whispered yes, his breath hitched like he didn’t believe it. He slipped the ring on your finger with unsteady hands, his lips parting like he wanted to say more, but all that came out was a broken, relieved exhale.
He leaned his forehead against your hand, tears dripping onto your skin as he whispered the words he’d never said out loud before:
“Thank you… for not letting go.”
───────୨ৎ───────
The mist rolled gently across the mountainside, curling around the trees like pale silk. Muichiro had brought you here, but his favorite spot to watch the clouds drift endlessly above. He was lying in the grass, eyes fixed on the sky, his expression calm and far away as usual.
For a while, he didn’t say anything. You thought maybe he had forgotten why he asked you to come here in the first place. But then, out of nowhere, his voice floated into the air, quiet and thoughtful.
“The sky looks endless, doesn’t it?”
You hummed in agreement, glancing at him. His pale eyes stayed fixed above, but there was something sharper in them, a rare focus.
“I used to think life was like that, too. Endless. But then I lost everything. My family, my time, even myself.”
He turned his head toward you then, his expression soft in a way that stole the breath from your lungs.
“And then… you appeared. Like sunlight breaking through the mist.”
Slowly, Muichiro sat up, reaching into his sleeve. His hands moved with unusual certainty as he pulled out a tiny wooden box, carved with cloud patterns. He held it gently, like it was something precious, before offering it to you with both hands.
When he opened it, you saw a ring, delicate silver, the band etched with tiny swirls that resembled drifting mist, a small aquamarine gem set at its center like a captured piece of the sky.
His voice, usually airy and detached, was firm now, quiet but unwavering.
“I forget a lot of things. Names, moments… sometimes even my own worth. But no matter how foggy everything gets, one thing always stays clear.”
He took your hand, his slender fingers brushing against yours with surprising steadiness. His pale eyes locked onto yours, filled with more emotion than words could carry.
“I love you. I don’t ever want to forget what it feels like to be with you. So… will you stay with me? Always?”
The mist curled thicker around you both, as if even the world itself was holding its breath. When you whispered yes, Muichiro’s lips parted in the faintest smile—small, rare, and more radiant than the rising sun.
He slipped the ring onto your finger, then leaned against your shoulder, his hair brushing your skin. His voice was a murmur, already softening back into dreamlike tones:
“Good. Because I think… with you, I’ll never feel lost again.”
───────୨ৎ───────
The night air was cool, lantern light flickering faintly inside Obanai’s home. You were curled up beside him on the tatami floor, Kaburamaru lazily coiled across his shoulders. Obanai wasn’t speaking. he rarely did when silence was enough but his mismatched eyes kept flicking toward you, watching like you were something fragile he was terrified to lose.
Finally, after what felt like hours, his low, quiet voice cut through the stillness:
“I don’t… deserve you.”
You sat up a little, startled, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, his hand absently stroking Kaburamaru’s scales.
“My blood is stained. My family’s sins are carved into me. All my life I’ve believed I was filthy.. something cursed, undeserving of happiness.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his usual sharp tongue softened into something trembling, bare.
“But then you came along.”
Slowly, his mismatched eyes lifted to yours. For once, there was no scowl, no sharpness, just a raw, aching vulnerability that nearly undid you.
“You… you look at me like I’m worth something. Like I’m not the monster I’ve always seen in the mirror. And it terrifies me, because—”
His voice cracked, and he reached into his robes with shaking fingers. When his hand emerged, he held a small, black-lacquered box, the edges worn like he’d carried it for months, too afraid to actually open it.
“—because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost that.”
Finally, he moved closer, dropping to one knee in front of you. Kaburamaru slithered down his arm, curling delicately around your wrist, as though even the serpent was part of the vow he was making. Obanai opened the box, revealing a slender silver ring shaped like two intertwining serpents, their heads meeting to hold a tiny gem between them.
His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and stripped of all armor:
“I have nothing pure to give you. Only this flawed heart that beats louder whenever you’re near. But if you’ll allow it—” his breath trembled, “—I want to spend what remains of my life at your side. As your husband.”
His mismatched eyes burned into yours, terrified and desperate all at once.
“Will you marry me?”
When you answered yes, Obanai let out a shaky exhale, like he’d been suffocating until this very moment. His hands trembled as he slid the ring onto your finger, and when he leaned forward to press his forehead to your hands, Kaburamaru nuzzled against your palm too, like the snake was sealing the vow alongside him.
Obanai’s voice broke, barely audible as he whispered:
“…thank you, for choosing me. For making me believe I could be loved.”
───────୨ৎ───────
The festival lanterns glowed warm and pink, strung above the bustling street. Mitsuri had dragged you out, practically bouncing on her feet the whole way, her hair swaying in candy-colored waves as she pointed excitedly at every food stall you passed.
“Ooh, [Name]-chan, look at the taiyaki! And the dango! Ohhh, and that stall has candied apples—so cute!!”
Her enthusiasm was contagious—you couldn’t help laughing as she tugged you from one stall to another, insisting you try everything. By the time you sat down at the edge of the festival square, you both had your laps full of snacks, lantern light reflecting in her green eyes.
But then Mitsuri grew oddly quiet. She fiddled with the stick of her dango, cheeks already pink but deepening with something other than excitement.
“[Name]-chan…” she started softly, voice trembling. “I—I love eating delicious food. I love bright colors and laughter and warm moments. But more than all of that… I love you.”
You blinked, caught off guard, as she set her dango aside and turned fully toward you. Her hands were shaking as she dug into her sleeve, pulling out a little pink silk pouch.
When she opened it, your breath hitched. Inside was a ring—delicate gold, with tiny engravings of blooming sakura around the band, a small pink gem set at its center. It sparkled in the lantern light, but it was nothing compared to the way Mitsuri’s eyes glistened.
She dropped to her knees right there, not caring about the crowd, tears welling up as she clutched the ring like it was her entire heart.
“I know I’m a lot. I get loud, I eat too much, I talk too much, I feel everything so strongly… and sometimes I’m scared that it’s too much for people to handle.”
Her voice cracked, and she smiled through the tears, trembling but radiant.
The festival noise seemed to blur away, lanterns flickering softly around you as she held the ring out, eyes pleading but glowing with hope.
“But you—you’ve never made me feel like too much. You make me feel like I’m just right. Like I’m perfect the way I am. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel that way too.”
“[Name]-chan… will you marry me?”
Your yes barely left your lips before Mitsuri squealed—loudly. She threw herself into your arms, knocking over your plates of food, hugging you so tight you thought you’d burst. The crowd nearby clapped and cheered, but Mitsuri didn’t care; she kissed you over and over, tears running down her face, laughter bubbling from her chest.
She just grinned through her tears, slipping the ring onto your finger and declaring to the entire festival square:
“SHE SAID YES!!!”
The lanterns swayed, the fireworks cracked overhead, and you realized—you’d just agreed to spend forever with the brightest, sweetest, most unapologetically loving woman in the world.
───────୨ৎ───────
The garden behind the Butterfly Estate was quiet in the evening, the air rich with the scent of wisteria. Shinobu had asked you to join her, saying she wanted to “show you something.” When you arrived, she was already waiting, kneeling by the koi pond with a lantern glowing faintly beside her.
She looked up with that trademark fake smile.
“You’re late. I almost thought you’d forgotten about me.”
Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a tremble to her hands as she folded them neatly in her lap. You sat beside her, watching the koi ripple through the water. For a long while, she said nothing—just let the sound of the insects and the faint rustle of wisteria fill the silence.
Finally, her soft voice cut through the night.
“You know… when Kanae died, I thought my heart couldn’t hold anything good again. I thought I had to lock everything away—keep smiling, keep fighting, keep pretending.”
“And then… somehow, you appeared. And you were patient with me. You saw through the teasing, through the mask, and you still stayed. You made me feel like I wasn’t broken.”
Her smile faltered, eyes glistening in the lantern light.
Her hand brushed against yours, light as a butterfly’s wing, before she slowly pulled something from her sleeve: a small lacquered box, painted with purple flowers.
She opened it to reveal a delicate ring, silver and thin, with tiny engravings of wisteria climbing along the band. At the center sat a violet gem, soft and shimmering like moonlight on water.
Shinobu let out a tiny, nervous laugh, biting her lip.
Then, in an uncharacteristically vulnerable move, she shifted to her knees, lowering her head slightly as she held the ring toward you. Her voice was steady, but her eyes shone with tears she was too proud to shed.
“I’m a poison, you know. I can be sharp, biting, sometimes even cruel. But if you’ll let me… I promise to spend every day making sure my love is the antidote.”
“So… will you marry me?”
When you said yes, Shinobu exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years. She slipped the ring onto your finger with careful, trembling hands, then leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours.
Her smile returned—gentle, teasing, but this time unmasked.
And as the wisteria swayed above you, you realized you wouldn’t dream of it.
“Good. Now you’re stuck with me forever. Don’t think you can take it back.”
Rengoku would take your timidity as something precious. He’d adjust himself without dimming his warmth: speaking reassuringly, never mocking your shyness… He’d always make sure you’re comfortable before initiating affection or public displays.
He’d say things like: “Ah! You don’t like crowds? Then we shall dine somewhere peaceful! I will handle the noise.”
His optimism is protective, not overbearing. He respects your nature, and because he’s naturally confident, he becomes your anchor in social situations, helping you shine when you’re ready.
GIYUU
Giyuu would be the most at ease with a timid partner. Silence doesn’t scare him. He’s quiet himself, so your shy demeanor would feel natural to him. You two would share peaceful companionship: side-by-side reading, long walks, quiet meals.
He’d say things like: “You don’t have to talk. I like being here with you.”
He’s awkward, not pushy. Giyuu wouldn’t pressure you to open up, but his presence would make you feel safe enough to eventually do so. He’s patient, because he knows how it feels to struggle to speak.
SANEMI
At first, Sanemi might scare a timid partner. He’s loud, rough around the edges. But once he realizes you’re not avoiding him, just shy, he’d immediately soften. He’d tone down his volume (somewhat), speak more gently and become surprisingly protective.
He’d say things like: “If anyone gives you trouble, you tell me. Got it?” (while pretending he’s not blushing himself)
He’s been through hell; he knows vulnerability deserves protection, not ridicule. Your gentleness would melt him. Deep down, he’d find it grounding.
TENGEN
Tengen would find a timid partner fascinating. Instead of trying to change you, he’d treat your quiet nature as part of your elegance. He’d be very careful not to overwhelm you. His usual flashiness would soften into tenderness when you’re together.
He’d say things like: “When you whisper, I listen harder. It’s… quite enchanting.”
Beneath the flamboyance, Tengen is deeply attuned to emotion. He knows how to balance extravagance with reassurance. He’d protect your space while slowly helping you step into confidence, but never by force.
MITSURI
Mitsuri would be delighted by a timid partner. She finds shyness adorable rather than frustrating. She’d instinctively lower her voice, soften her energy and make sure you never feel overwhelmed. Expect warm smiles, gentle hand-holding, and endless encouragement.
She’d say things like: “You’re so cute when you blush! Oh no, I didn’t mean to embarrass you! Sorry, sorry!” While she giggles.
Mitsuri’s heart is huge; she thrives on emotional connection. She wants you to feel safe opening up, so she’d shower you with affection until your walls slowly fall. She’d never rush you, just nurture your confidence lovingly.
OBANAI
Obanai is reserved, so he’d instantly connect with a timid partner. Your quietness wouldn’t bother him, he finds it calming. His affection would be subtle: sharing food, walking close beside you, quietly checking if you’re okay in crowded spaces.
He’d say things like: “You don’t have to force words with me. Just stay close.”
He’s self-conscious about his own appearance and voice, so a gentle partner makes him feel accepted. Your timidity would draw out his protectiveness; he’d go to great lengths to make you feel secure.
MUICHIRO
Muichiro, especially post-memory-recovery, would be captivated by your timidity. He’d mirror your calm energy, offering simple gestures like holding your hand, leaning close as comfort. He’d listen carefully when you speak.
He’d say things like: “I like your voice. Even when it’s quiet.”
He knows what it’s like to feel disconnected or small. Your gentleness resonates with him. He’d never pressure you to change; he’d just make sure you feel seen and valued exactly as you are.
SHINOBU
Shinobu would tease, but never cruelly. She’d use humor to draw you out, keeping things light so you never feel cornered. She’d initiate touch slowly, brushing your hand or adjusting your hair, to gauge your comfort level.
She’d say things like: “It’s alright. Take your time. I’ll wait for you to speak, darling.”
Shinobu understands emotional fragility, she carries her own pain beneath her smile. She’d respect your pace, cherishing every small step you take toward openness.
GYOMEI
Gyomei would treat a timid partner with the utmost respect. He’d speak softly, always mindful of how his size and voice might intimidate you. He’d offer comfort through prayer, gentle touches, and reassurance.
He’d say things like: “Do not rush your heart. It will bloom when it is ready.”
Gyomei sees beauty in vulnerability. To him, timidity is not weakness: it’s sensitivity, and that sensitivity deserves reverence. He’d be endlessly patient, providing safety and grounding.
Gyomei approaches cunnilingus like prayer—reverent, methodical, and devastatingly intense. He'll lower himself to his knees before you, massive hands resting on your thighs with surprising gentleness. Despite his blindness, he doesn't need to see; he maps your body through touch and sound, fingers tracing the curve of your hips, thumbs parting your folds with deliberate care.
He holds you down when you try to squirm away from too much sensation, not cruelly, but firmly—grounding you. His fingers slide inside you, two thick digits curling to find your sweet spot while his tongue works your clit in figure-eights. Gyomei doesn't stop until you come undone, and even then, he keeps licking gently through your aftershocks, murmuring prayers of gratitude against your slick thighs.
After, he'll rest his head on your hip, breathing heavily, and whisper, "You are sacred, every part of you."
Obanai
Obanai eats pussy like it's an act of worship—he's kneeling at your altar, and his snake Kaburamon coils nearby, watching with unblinking eyes. Obanai doesn't speak much during sex, but his focus is absolute. He'll position you however he wants—on your back, legs spread, or bent over the edge of a futon—and then he disappears between your thighs.
His tongue is precise, almost clinical at first. He traces the shape of your labia, parts you with his thumbs, studies your body's responses like a map. He finds your clit quickly and circles it with the tip of his tongue, eyes half-lidded, watching your face the entire time. Obanai doesn't blink. He stares at your expressions—every flinch, every bitten lip, every time your eyes roll back—and adjusts his technique accordingly.
He alternates between fast, flicking strokes of his tongue and slow, deliberate suction. He'll take your clit between his lips and suck gently while his tongue presses against it from below, then switch to lapping at it with the flat of his tongue in long, wet drags. His fingers find their way inside you, curling and pressing in a rhythm that matches his mouth.
Obanai gets off on your sounds. He'll moan against your pussy when you gasp his name, the vibration making you clench around his fingers. He doesn't stop until you've come at least twice—he considers it a matter of pride. Afterward, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looks at you with that intense, unreadable gaze, and says nothing. But the way he traces a finger along your inner thigh afterward says everything.
rengoku
Rengoku attacks cunnilingus with the same fiery enthusiasm he brings to everything. He doesn't ease into it—he dives in headfirst, spreading your legs wide and burying his face between them with a loud, appreciative "DELICIOUS!" His voice booms even muffled against your skin.
He's messy. Spit everywhere. Sloppy, wet, enthusiastic licks that cover your entire cunt in a chaotic rhythm. He doesn't worry about technique so much as sheer intensity. His tongue is everywhere—lapping at your clit, dipping into your entrance, sliding along your folds before returning to suck your clit into his mouth with a pop.
Rengoku talks while he eats you out, murmuring encouragement between licks. "You taste incredible! More—let me hear you!" He'll look up at you, eyes gleaming, mouth slick with your arousal, grinning like a man possessed. His hands grip your thighs hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer, practically fucking his face into you.
When you start to come, he redoubles his efforts, moaning against your clit, tongue flicking faster until you're screaming. He doesn't let up until you push his head away, and even then he licks his lips, chuckling. "Taste that? That's happiness!" Rengoku's cunnilingus is exhausting, overwhelming, and absolutely unforgettable.
sanemi
Sanemi approaches eating pussy like it's a battlefield—aggressive, competitive, and determined to win. He'll pin you down, one hand on your hip, the other gripping your thigh hard enough to leave fingerprints. No foreplay, no teasing. He goes straight for your clit, tongue flat and rough, licking in harsh, demanding strokes.
He's not gentle. He bites sometimes—not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make you yelp. He'll drag his teeth along your inner thigh before diving back in, sucking your clit with punishing suction, flicking his tongue against it until you're shaking. Sanemi wants to break you, wants to make you lose control completely.
He growls against you, curses under his breath—"fuck, yeah, just like that"—while his fingers shove inside you, two then three, curling and pumping in a brutal rhythm. He doesn't care if it's too much; he wants to see you overwhelmed, crying, begging.
When you come, he doesn't stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, dragging out your orgasm until you're sobbing and trying to crawl away. Then he pulls back, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. "That's right. Remember who owns this pussy." He's rough, possessive, and leaves you completely wrecked.
giyuu
Giyuu is quiet, almost shy about eating pussy, but devastatingly good once he gets going. He starts hesitantly, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, breathing warm against your skin before he finally lowers his mouth to you. His first touch is featherlight—just the tip of his tongue tracing your folds, tasting you gently.
But once he hears your first moan, something shifts. Giyuu becomes focused, almost obsessive. He settles into a steady rhythm: long, languid strokes of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, each one deliberate and unhurried. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the taste, in the way your hips rock against his face.
He's methodical. He'll lap at your clit in tight circles until your breathing changes, then suck it gently between his lips while his tongue flicks against it. His fingers slide inside you, slow and deep, curling to find that spot that makes your back arch. Giyuu doesn't talk, but he moans—low, needy sounds that vibrate against your sensitive flesh.
He takes his time. He'll edge you, pulling back when you get too close, only to start again with a different angle or pressure. Giyuu wants to draw out your pleasure until you're begging, until your voice cracks saying his name. When he finally lets you come, he holds you through it, tongue working you softly through the aftershocks.
After, he rests his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you with those sad, intense eyes, and whispers, "Stay." Just that. He stays there, breathing you in, not wanting to leave.
tengen
Tengen is loud, theatrical, and absolutely convinced he's the best at eating pussy—and frankly, he might be right. He'll position you dramatically, propping pillows under your hips, spreading your legs wide, and making a show of it. "Behold! The flamboyant art of cunnilingus!"
He starts with his whole mouth—open-mouthed kisses that cover your entire cunt, tongue sloppy and wet, lapping at you like he's drinking from a fountain. He moans loudly, making sure you hear how much he's enjoying it. "Mmm, exquisite. You taste absolutely divine, my darling."
Tengen switches between techniques like a performer switching instruments: fast flicking of his tongue against your clit, slow deep licks that dip inside you, sucking your clit while his fingers work your g-spot. He uses both hands—one gripping your ass, the other pressed flat against your lower belly, feeling his tongue's effect on you from the outside.
He talks constantly. "Tell me how it feels. Louder. I want the whole estate to hear how good I make you feel." When you come, he hums against your clit, the vibration sending you into another wave. Tengen makes sure you come at least three times before he's satisfied, then sits up, grinning, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"That," he declares, "is what I call a flamboyant finish." He expects applause.
shinobu
Shinobu brings her butterfly aesthetic into cunnilingus—delicate, precise, and lethally effective. She kisses her way down your body slowly, pausing to nip at your ribs, your hips, your inner thighs, before finally settling between your legs. She doesn't dive in immediately; she hovers, breathing warm air against your wet folds until you're squirming.
Her first touch is barely there—just the tip of her tongue, light as a butterfly wing, tracing the outline of your clit. She repeats this, featherlight touches that drive you insane, never giving you the full pressure you crave until you beg for it. Shinobu loves making you beg.
When she finally gives in, she uses her tongue in sharp, precise strokes—quick flicks against your clit, alternating with soft suction. Her fingers glide inside you, slender and cool, moving with surgical accuracy. She finds your g-spot immediately and presses against it while her tongue circles your clit in a steady, maddening rhythm.
She's quiet, but she smiles against your skin when you moan. Shinobu takes pride in unraveling you, in reducing you to a trembling mess under her skilled mouth. She'll edge you repeatedly, pulling away just before you peak, only to start again with a different technique.
When she finally lets you come, it's with a soft laugh, her tongue working you through it until you're oversensitive and twitching. She sits up, wipes her mouth daintily, and says, "There. Much better, isn't it?"
mitsuri
Mitsuri eats pussy like she's starving and you're the only meal that matters. She's loud, enthusiastic, and completely unrestrained. She'll moan against you from the first taste, hips grinding into the futon as she devours you with zero shame.
Her tongue is strong and flexible, lapping at you in broad, hungry strokes. She uses her whole mouth—sucking, licking, kissing, biting softly. She's messy, drool mixing with your arousal, sliding down her chin, but she doesn't care. She's too lost in the taste, in the sounds you make, in the way your thighs squeeze her head.
Mitsuri grips your hips and pulls you closer, practically smothering herself in your pussy. She alternates between fast, frantic licks and slow, deep passes of her tongue that dip inside you. She fingers you while she works, her strong fingers curling perfectly against your g-spot, matching the rhythm of her mouth.
She talks between licks: "You taste so good... I could do this forever... Please, come for me, I need to taste it..." Her voice is desperate, genuine. When you finally come, she moans loudly against your clit, tongue flicking faster, drinking every drop of your release like it's nectar.
Afterward, she collapses on top of you, face still buried between your thighs, mumbling happily, "Can we do that again? Right now?" Mitsuri is insatiable, and she'll happily spend all night proving it.
a/n: someone texted me just to say my writings ass🥹 anyways i caught myself cheesing writing sanemis part ngl✌🏽
A/n: So these aren’t really head canons, just scenes. I thought that would be better for this. I have been wanting to write this since I got this request. I don’t think I’m super funny, so I rewrote some scenes a few times and writing for each Hashira is a lot but, I love doing it and I had SOOO much fun with this. I hope it makes you laugh. I apologize for the delay!
Setting: KNY universe
───── ✦ ───── ✧ ───── ✦ ───
MDNI 18+
Cw: NSFW, smut, restraint, dominance, submission, interrupted sexual activity, rough sex, choking, group sex, accidental voyuerism.
Giyuu Tomioka
You're pinned against the wall of his quiet estate, Giyuu's usual reserved manner is replaced by a raw need as his lips crash against yours. His calloused hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against his growing cock.
“I've wanted this since I first saw you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough with desire.
He tears your bottoms down, fingers sliding between your thighs to find you already wet for him. He tugs down his pants and grabs your legs to wrap them around his waist. With one hand he lines himself up with your entrance.
Then—
Pure, sweet, bright eyed, Tanjiro walks in, with Nezuko on his back. "Mr. Giyuu!”
Giyuu immediately lets go of you, you fall to the floor with a thud, he barely pulls up his pants in time.
“I have a—“ Tanjiro freezes, eyes wide as he takes in the compromising position.
There’s a beat. A very long one.
Giyuu stares back at him, face completely blank, ears slowly turning red.
“We are—Training,” Giyuu says flatly, scratching the back of his neck.
Tanjiro nods too fast. “Y-YES SIR. VERY ADVANCED TRAINING. I SEE THAT NOW.” He spins on his heel so hard Nezuko is probably getting whiplash in her box. He marches straight back out the door. “I’LL—COME BACK IN….SEVERAL HOURS—MAYBE TOMORROW!”
The door slams.
You’re still on the floor, heart racing.
Giyuu exhales, drags a hand down his face, and without looking at you mutters, “This is why I live alone.”
From outside, Tanjiro’s voice echoes faintly: “I DID NOT SEE ANYTHING.”
Giyuu shuts his eyes.
“…I’m moving.”
Kyojuro Rengoku
“You truly burn so bright…it takes my breath away!” Kyojuro says as he carries you from his front door to his bedroom.
He lays you down gently before tearing down your bottoms. Then he’s diving between your legs, wasting no time. His tongue working with the same passionate energy he brings to battle. "So sweet for me,” he moans against your core, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you.
You grab his hair and pull him closer, “Kyo—don’t stop!” You moan loudly.
He’s just about to insert a finger when—
“Boy! Kyojuro! What the hell is all this—“ The former Flame Hashira, Shinjuro Rengoku, the father of the man between your legs, stops mid-sentence, face flushing with anger and embarrassment.
There’s a split second of stunned silence.
Kyojuro looks up from your thighs, bright as ever, completely unbothered. “AH! Father! Wonderful!”
You choke on air. Shinjuro scoffs.
“This is NOT wonderful,” Shinjuro snaps, turning sharply away and jabbing a finger at the wall.
“And you?” His fiery gaze turns to you. “Clothes. On. NOW.”
You hurriedly reach for your pants and can’t find them. You settle on covering yourself with Kyojuro’s haori that’s lying at your feet.
You clear your throat and look back at Shinjuro, who is giving you a death glare.
“It’s nice to meet you! It is truly an honor!” You nervously exclaim, trying to ignore the whole situation.
Kyojuro springs to his feet with military enthusiasm. “I apologize for the—SURPRISE TRAINING SESSION!”
“THAT IS NOT TRAINING,” Shinjuro roars.
From the hallway, Senjuro’s small voice pipes up, deeply confused: “Is everything okay…?”
“NO,” Shinjuro bellows back. “EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY.”
Kyojuro leans down toward you, whispering with a grin far too cheerful for the situation, “We will…resume later.”
You hear Shinjuro grab a bottle off a table, muttering as he storms out, “I need a drink. Several. And I’m burning this house down.”
The front door slams.
Kyojuro beams at you anyway. “Well! That could have gone worse!”
Tengen Uzui
Tengen strips you, his three wives watching with amusement. He's always believed in sharing pleasures, and tonight you're the center of attention.
"Let's make this unforgettable," he purrs, his large hands exploring every curve as his wives join in.
Suma's giggling, Makio's whispering in your ear, and Hinatsuru's gentle laughter fills the room.
Just as Tengen aligns himself to enter you, the door slides open and his best friend Kyojuro stands there, face turning beet red, it almost matches his hair.
"Uzui? I was told to—“ He stammers backward.
“I—THIS IS NOT—I APOLOGIZE—“ Kyojuro stutters.
He trips over his own feet trying to retreat, arms flailing, nearly taking the door off its track before disappearing down the hallway.
There’s a stunned silence.
Suma bursts into laughter, doubling over. “HE SAW EVERYTHING!”
Makio snorts. “The Flame Hashira just combusted.”
Hinatsuru calmly reaches over and slides the door shut and locks it. “He won’t be back.”
Tengen throws his head back and laughs, loud and unapologetic. “HA! Now that is what I call an unforgettable entrance.” He grins down at you, utterly unfazed. “Don’t worry—he’ll recover. Eventually.”
From somewhere far away, Kyojuro’s voice echoes faintly:
“I WILL NEVER OPEN A DOOR AGAIN.”
Obanai Iguro
"Such a disobedient pet," Obanai murmurs, his tongue flicking against your neck as he restrains your wrists with his hands. You’re lying completely exposed on his futon. His serpent-like nature extends to his preferences in the bedroom. He likes dominance, control. It’s how he claims you.
"You’re all mine," he says as one of his hands wraps around your throat, the other still holding your wrists above your head, his lips trail down from your cheek and find your sensitive nipples.
You tug on his black hair to pull him up. You’re so desperate. You need him. You don’t want to be tortured.
His mismatched eyes meet yours, his grip on your throat tightens. “No. Remember how you didn’t listen to me? Remember your attitude? You’re going to beg for it.”
He shifts but doesn’t release his grip on your throat or wrists. He starts grinding against you, slowly and deliberately, while you beg and whimper for his cock.
Then…Mitsuri bursts in. "Iguro! I brought you—!” Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene.
There’s a full second where no one breathes.
Obanai’s grip loosens immediately like he’s been electrocuted. His eyes go wide but not with lust, with terror. “Kanroji—this is not—“
Mitsuri blinks once.
“Iguro—STOP!” she yelps, dropping everything and shoving Obanai off you with surprising strength.
Obanai hits the floor in a tangle of limbs and haori, hissing. “WHAT—KANROJI?!”
You blink, stunned, unable to form words.
Obanai stares up at the ceiling, equally shocked.
Mitsuri immediately kneels beside you, hands fluttering. “Are you okay?! He looked like he was hurting you! Iguro, you can’t just—just—choke people like that!”
“I WAS NOT HURTING ANYONE,” Obanai snaps, mortified, sitting up too fast. His face is entirely red beneath the bandages. He breathes slowly. “That was…consensual. Mutually agreed upon. Entirely—“
He gestures vaguely and finally gives up. “…Not violent.”
Mitsuri processes his words.
“Oh.”
Her face turns pink.
Then pinker.
Until it’s almost a deep red.
“OH.”
She slowly covers her face with both hands. “I—I—thought—you looked upset and I just—pushed you… oh Iguro, I’m so sorry!”
Obanai groans and drags a hand through his hair.
Silence stretches.
Mitsuri peeks through her fingers, glances between you, then Obanai, then back at you.
Her voice drops to a tiny, hopeful mumble.
“Um. If—if everyone is okay and I misunderstood and this was, um…on purpose…it seems…fun.”
“Yeah it…um…it is.” Obanai says, slowly and furrows his brows at Mitsuri in confusion.
“Maybe I could join?” She whispers shyly.
You look at Obanai.
Obanai looks at you.
You both nod.
And then you’re pulling Mitsuri towards the futon.
Sanemi Shinazugawa
"Fucking finally," Sanemi growls as he practically rips your clothes off and pushes you onto his futon. His rough handling sending thrills through you.
He's always been intense, yet gentle. But that gentleness is gone, replaced by pure sexual frustration. It’s been weeks since you’ve had any sexual contact.
He pins you beneath his muscular frame. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted you," he says, his scarred hands gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him, hard enough to leave marks.
He shoves down his pants and lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly thrusts into you and once you adjust, he’s fucking you into the futon with a punishing force.
Suddenly, Genya opens the door. "Nemi? I can’t find—“
All three of you freeze.
Sanemi reacts on pure instinct.
“OUT.” He yells.
He lunges for the nearest blanket, flinging it over you so fast it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, then whips around, his veins bulging. “GET OUT. TURN AROUND. WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM.”
Genya’s eyes go wide. “I—sorry— I didn’t—“
“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE,” Sanemi roars, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door as Genya scrambles backward down the hall.
“I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING,” Genya yells, sprinting away. “I wish I was blind.” He mutters to himself.
Sanemi hurries to the door and slams it shut.
He stands there, chest heaving, hair wild, hands clenched.
“I’m disowning him,” he mutters.
“He didn’t mean to—“ you try to diffuse the situation but Sanemi cuts in.
“Are you okay?” He asks, walking towards you.
“Yeah…I’m okay. Are you though?”
“I’ll be better once we actually get to fuck.” He groans, plopping onto the futon next you.
Gyomei Himejima
"Beautiful," Gyomei whispers against your skin, his massive frame hovering over you with surprising gentleness.
Despite his size and strength, he's tender in his lovemaking, his large hands exploring your body with reverence.
"I will cherish this moment," he says, his beads clicking softly as he moves.
He's just entering you slowly when—
Muichiro decides to stop by for a visit.
He slides the door open without knocking. “Gyomei, I was wondering if you—“
Silence.
Muichiro stares.
Gyomei freezes like he’s been struck by lightning.
The prayer beads stop clicking.
“Ah,” Muichiro says. “So this is what you’re doing.”
Gyomei immediately recoils, hauling himself back like he’s been burned. He scrambles for a blanket, covering you both with frantic gentleness. “I am sorry!” He booms, voice echoing through the estate. “This was not meant for anyone to see.”
Muichiro tilts his head. “…Should I come back later?”
Muichiro considers his words. “Okay.” He turns to leave, then stops, glancing back. “Is this why you’ve been smiling more?”
Gyomei’s face goes red. He presses his palms together. “Please forget everything you have perceived.”
Muichiro nods. “I will not.” Then, helpfully, adds, “You left the door unlocked.”
He slides it shut behind him.
The room is silent.
Gyomei exhales slowly, then bows his head toward you, mortified beyond words.
“I will be praying for forgiveness for the rest of my life.”
Mitsuri Kanroji
"Oh, I'm so excited!" Mitsuri squeals as she tackles you onto her futon, her strength surprising as she pins you beneath her.
"You're just so cute…and so hot…I’m going to melt!" she says, planting kisses at your neck and shoulders.
Her pink hair brushes against your skin as she undresses you with immense enthusiasm.
Just as she's about to start touching you with practiced ease, Shinobu slides the door open. "Kanroji—“ Shinobu’s eyes widen slightly before she smirks. "My, my, quite the workout."
Mitsuri freezes like she’s been caught mid-crime.
“Eep!”
She launches herself off you in a flurry of pink hair and limbs, immediately trying, and failing, to cover you with a blanket. “Kocho! I—I was just! We were—“
Shinobu raises a brow, smile sharp and delighted. “Stretching?” she offers sweetly.
Mitsuri’s face goes crimson. “NO—! I mean—YES—! But also—“
You barely have time to sit up before Mitsuri’s already spiraling, her hands flapping. “I didn’t mean to—I mean I did—but I thought you were coming over tomorrow—and I forgot to lock the door!”
Shinobu chuckles softly. “Relax. I’m not here to scold.” Her eyes flick between the two of you. “Honestly, I’m impressed. That position takes stamina.”
Mitsuri squeaks and dives face-first into a pillow. “I’M GOING TO PASS AWAY.”
Shinobu turns to you, utterly composed. “Just… hydrate.” Then she slides the door shut again, pausing only to add, “And maybe next time…lock it.”
Mitsuri lifts her head slowly, hair a mess, eyes wide. “Do you think she’s going to tell anyone?”
From the other side of the door, Shinobu’s voice floats back, sing-song sweet:
“Oh, absolutely.”
Mitsuri screams into the pillow.
Shinobu Kocho
"Are you nervous?" Shinobu asks sweetly, though her eyes hold a dangerous glint as she ties your wrists with purple silk.
She's always enjoyed mixing pleasure with a bit of pain, her small frame betraying her dominant nature.
“Don't worry," she purrs, trailing her fingernails down your stomach, "I'll make it hurt so good."
She's just teasing you with a small trail of kisses on your neck.
Then—
A soft voice.
“I—?" Kanao’s expression remains shocked as she takes in the scene, simply waiting for instruction.
Shinobu freezes.
Completely.
The silk goes slack.
“Um,” Shinobu says lightly, a beat too late.
She clears her throat, smile snapping into place like armor. In one smooth motion, she unties your wrists, drops a blanket over you, and straightens her haori. “Kanao, this is not what it looks like.”
Kanao blinks once. “It appears to be exactly what it looks like.”
Shinobu winces.
“Medical,” Shinobu tries. “Stress relief. Very advanced. You wouldn’t understand.”
Kanao nods, turns on her heel, and slides the door shut with surgical precision.
Three seconds pass.
Shinobu exhales slowly, pressing two fingers to her temple. Her smile is still there, but it’s cracked. “Well,” she says sweetly, looking at you, “that was deeply humiliating.”
