#ninohe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mydisenchantedeulogy · 2 years

Text

Sweetly || Agatsuma Zenitsu

Content and Warnings: Female reader, blood and death, aged-up characters, mafia - alternate universe, porn with plot, couch sex/riding, oral (f), criminal Pillars, modern day au with demons/slayers, NSFW, words: 6,743.

Notes: This is part of Thicker Than Water collab posted by @em-plosion. Thank you for hosting such a fun and amazing event. Please enjoy.

The sweet scent of sugar permeates the air as you carry a tray of homemade kohakutou candies out to the counter. You are almost sad to see them go; the last batch is personalized in pastel shades for the customer, a detail that you take great pride in as a Confectioner.

Packing them in a baby pink paperboard candy box with the name Amaku on the side – the name of the shop – you stand and wait for the fortunate customer to come in.

It's almost nine, near closing time, so you store the leftovers in containers for the staff to take home; a variety box is waiting for you of dangos and a cupcake with buttercream icing that your colleague made. You almost can't wait to tear into them.

Hearing the doorbell ring, you turn your eyes to the entrance, forcing a sweet smile as Mrs. Momoka walks in – an older woman with a friendly face that comes in once a week.

“Oh dear, I apologize for being so late. There was a terrible accident in Iwate,” she explains.

You raise a brow.

“What sort of accident?”

“The police were swarming the streets. I heard they found a mutilated body in a dumpster outside the convenience store in Ninohe District,” Mrs. Momoka answers.

You frown. An air of dread swallows you like a wet blanket.

“How long ago?” You ask.

“Half an hour,” Mrs. Momoka answers. She narrows her eyes in concern. “Why do you ask, dear?”

You hand the box to her over the counter; the app makes orders easier considering the customers pay online with no hassle.

“I live in Aomori. It concerns me.”

Mrs. Momoka frowns in pity.

“That is unfortunate. Be careful on your way home. Aomori is 2 hours from Iwate but you can never be too cautious.”

You agree. Waving goodbye to Mrs. Momoka, you walk around the counter and turn the open sign to close.

It's dark out. An ominous feeling inches across your body, but at least there are people around. You take an uneasy breath, walking away from the door to clean up.

At a quarter after nine, you leave Amaku, heading to the train station. The night air chills you to the bone, but it's the least of your worries. The incident plays in your mind like an eerie time reel. Tohoku is a quiet region; nothing usually happens on the island, so a brutal death so close to home has you on edge.

You try to ignore it, but the disappearances reported now and again on the news seem more real. Is there a pattern? A possible killer? You shudder to think so.

Boarding the train, you take an uneasy breath, resting in a vacant seat. At night there aren't many people around. You share the compartment with three others, making you unlucky number four.

It's an hour ride to Aomori, so you try to make the best of it as you can, playing a silent dating game on your phone.

Ten minutes till eleven the train pulls into the station and you depart. Your apartment is a five-minute walk from your current location. You saunter down the empty street, humming under your breath as you clutch the box of sweets in your arms. It's so close you can almost feel the warmth of your bed and the safety of your apartment.

The echoes of your footsteps pierce your ears, but then there is something else; something that makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You halt in fear.

A voice? A faint cry for help?

For a moment you think your mind is playing tricks on you. Being alone at night sometimes does. You take a slow and cautious step forward, but you hear it again.

It sounds like a child. You widen your eyes.

Listening intently, you locate where they are. The sound is coming from the side of a nearby vacant building on a narrow dimly lit street.

“Nope,” you utter.

There is no way you are going to investigate the sound. But on the other hand, a kid might be in trouble. What they are doing outside after dark is a mystery. You groan in frustration, walking to the corner of the building.

“Is someone there?” You ask.

There is silence at first, then a pained voice cries out.

“Please. My leg is hurt.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You peek around the side to see a young boy sitting in the street. A bicycle too large for him is resting on the ground with a bent wheel frame. It looks like someone may have hit him and ran.

And there's blood on his hands and face.

You rush to his side, taking out your phone in case you need to call an ambulance, but as you are looking him over you can't seem to find a single wound.

“Where did this blood come from?” You ask in confusion.

The boy points his finger at the building and against the wall, you see a man’s body. A large bloody chunk of skin and tissue is missing from his shoulder and his head is caved in. Your eyes widen and you turn them to the bicycle frame, noticing hair and blood covering the spokes.

What is going on?

You hear a low gurgle in your ear and turn to see a pair of red gleaming eyes staring at you. A trail of saliva leaks from the boy's mouth.

“What––”

He lunges at you before you can form a question and sinks his fanged teeth into your arm. The pain is unbearable. A horrified scream tears from your throat as a result. The boy releases you and cackles, sweeping a lengthy and narrow tongue across his blood-stained lips.

He's a monster. It takes you a minute to process – monsters don’t exist, do they? – but when it’s clear that he is going to do to you the same horrible thing he did to the unnamed man, you panic. Shoving him away with all the strength you can muster, you run. To where you aren’t sure, but you know for the sake of your life that you must get away.

But it’s not that easy.

A sudden weight on your back knocks you off your feet and onto your stomach, forcing the air from your lungs; your phone and candy box lands out of reach. Coughing in protest, you are aware that the child is sitting on your lower back.

“Where are you going, big sister? Don't you want to play with me too?” The boy asks.

You sob in horror, clawing at the ground in an attempt to get free, or to at least reach your phone. But his weight is too much to bear. It feels like a ton of bricks is pressing you into the asphalt.

The boy laughs and buries his fingers into your hair, forcing your cheek against the ground.

“Brother tried to run too, so I broke him. Humans aren't very good toys. But they taste so good.”

Is he serious? What kind of sick person does that?

You choke on your tears. The fact that you are going to die seems unreal, and as the instinct to fight leaves your body, you shut down. It’s over. You’re as good as dead.

As the warm unpleasant breath of the monster hits your face, an unexpected current ripples through the air. The hair on your arms stands straight and the sweet pungent aroma of ozone permeates your nose.

Is it about to storm?

The monster growls and releases you for some reason unbeknownst to you, standing up near your shaking body. It seems to be staring in anger at something in the distance, but you are far too worn out to look.

“I’m not afraid––”

A yellow light suddenly zips past you and interrupts the monster, then to your horror, when your eyes clear, its headless body falls into a motionless heap beside you. What in the fuck? You watch in confusion as it reduces to ash, fading to nothing. All that remains of the monster is its clothes.

What is going on? You can't seem to understand. There is no logical explanation.

Not to mention you are weak. Your mind feels like it is lost in a warm haze.

“Please, someone, help me,” you sob.

The pain is too much.

Hearing the quiet patter of shoes on the asphalt, a person comes into your view. He has uneven blond hair – an unnatural color that is not worn by many in the region – and is wearing a black mask over his mouth and nose. But what concerns you the most about him, is the katana in his hand.

Does he hear you? His eyes are closed, almost like he is asleep.

You watch him lean down through blurry eyes and pick up the paperboard box, taking out the cupcake. He takes a bite, then opens his soft brown eyes in alarm.

“Where am I?” he asks, looking around.

The blond notices the katana in his hand and shrieks in fear.

“I went out alone again!”

Whatever internal battle he is having with himself, you do not care. You reach over and grab his pant leg, making him shriek again. But once he sees your condition, he takes a sharp breath. His face turns red.

“I’m so tired,” you utter.

“Rest, and I will take care of you,” he says softly.

You want to live. You sob as you can no longer see him. As the darkness consumes you, his warm hand on your cheek brings you some comfort. At least you aren’t alone.

It’s so cold, that you can hardly stand it. Is this what death is like?

Opening your eyes with a groan, you untangle the blanket from your waist, yanking it up to your chin. It takes you a moment to realize that you are awake; the notion comes as a surprise to you.

I’m not dead.

How? Maybe it was a dream.

No, you think.

The pain is too real. It feels like someone tore your arm out of the socket. You test your fingers pleased that you are able to move them. And now that you know you are OK, you can focus on figuring out where you are.

The room you are in is akin to that of a hospital, but there are no windows and the air reeks of bleach and dust. It reminds you of a basement. There is a thick sheet separating your bed from the rest of the room and no red call button to alert a nurse that you are awake. All in all, you are alone and confused.

Did the blond leave you here?

You frown.

“Where are you?”

You have many questions to ask him.

“Are you referring to me?” a familiar voice asks.

You gasp in shock as the sheet yanks back; the blond emerges from behind it. You are pleased to see him. Only he looks a bit different. The mask is missing from his face and a bamboo skewer rests in the corner of his mouth. Is he eating your dangos?

Your stomach growls in protest.

“I hope that did not come from the pink box I was carrying,” you mention with a glare.

“It did, and they were good,” the blond replies. “I’ve never heard of Amaku before, but I like their sweets.”

A sense of pride consumes you.

“It’s my shop in Akita, or rather co-owned shop,” you mention.

“I’ll remember that,” he states.

He tilts his head, staring at your arm in concern.

“How does it feel?”

You reach up on instinct and touch the bandage around your left shoulder.

“It’s tender, but at least it’s there,” you answer.

“I never would have forgiven myself if such a pretty woman like you had been maimed or killed,” the blonde mentions. His face turns red.

The events of last night come rushing back to you and you frown. That’s right. The monster almost killed and ate you. Warm tears blur your sight.

“Did I make you cry?” The blond asks in fear.

Rushing over to your side, he cups your face and uses his thumbs to wipe away the stray tears. You widen your eyes, feeling your face turn red in embarrassment. What is he doing?

“Let me make it up to you. We can share the last dango, or we can get married.”

Does he think he is being sly? You grab the pillow, whacking him on the head with it.

“Why did you hit me?!” The blond cries, covering his face.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you are acting like a pervert,” you answer striking him over and over.

Seeing him cower triggers a memory. You halt, eyes wide in fear. The events from last night break through your guard and flood your thoughts. The body, the monster, you on the brink of death; it’s too much. How did you not realize the intensity of the situation until now?

“I … want to ask you a question,” you utter.

The blond peeks at you from between his fingers.

“As long as you don’t hit me anymore,” he states.

“The boy last night who attacked me. Was he a monster?” You ask.

He frowns.

“That's not up to me to explain. But I know someone who can; if he sees it fit to.”

You hum.

“Please ask him. I need to know.”

The blond turns and walks toward the door, but you call out to him.

“What is your name?”

He peeks over his shoulder with a smile.

“It's Zenitsu.”

You smile and introduce yourself.

“I owe you my life,” you add.

His face turns red.

“Does that mean accept my marriage proposal?”

Is he serious? Your toss the pillow at his head, feeling embarrassed by his blunt question. Did he have no shame?

“You’re a creep!”

Zenitsu points a finger at you.

“You lied! You said that you wouldn’t hit me again.”

You glare at him.

“I'll do much worse than that if you ever ask me again.”

Zenitsu squeaks and runs out of the room.

It's hard to believe that he is the same person from last night. You take an uneasy breath and rest against the bed. There is nothing else to do but wait. Whoever the unnamed man is, you hope he can answer your questions.

Time creeps on. An hour passes – according to the clock on the wall – then another. And still, no one shows. Maybe Zenitsu could not persuade the unnamed man to speak with you. Feeling let down, you are at least pleased that you are alive. Even so, you are traumatized.

Are there more of whatever the boy is out there on the streets? And how are you supposed to tell them apart from humans? He had appeared to be normal until his eyes changed. You wonder if you can even have a normal life now that you have seen the monster. In the back of your mind, you know that they are out there lurking in the shadows.

A sudden knock on the door causes you to jerk in fear, and before you can wonder who is on the other side, Zenitsu walks in. Behind him is a hulking man wearing a suit. You widen your eyes, watching him sit on the edge of the bed across from you. His eyes are white with no visible irises or pupils, and though he appears blind, he seems to get around rather well.

“How are you feeling, Miss?” He asks softly.

“Um, I’m fine I guess,” You answer.

All things considered.

Tears pour down the man’s face.

“I apologize that our base doesn’t have an elaborate infirmary, but we are well-staffed in doctors.”

Why is he crying?

“It’s not an issue. Though I’m a little confused as to where I am,” You mention.

“You are in Aomori in the Tohoku region. My lieutenant brought you here,” the man answers. “But where are my manners. My name is Himejima Gyomei.”

You raise a brow. Lieutenant? Does he mean Zenitsu?

“I was told that you have questions. Understand that you may not like the answers, but you are obligated to ask them,” Gyomei mentions.

What sort of horror awaits you? You clear your throat; you have every right to know the truth.

“I want to know as much as you can tell me about what happened to me and why.”

Gyomei merely nods.

“The creature that attacked you was a part of an ancient race of immortal beings known as a demon. There are hundreds of them lurking in the darkness around Japan, and their primary diet is humans. Do not think for a moment that you are cursed or have been chosen by them. You were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you are fortunate.”

Demons? As unbelievable as it sounds, you know that the child you had encountered was not human. If you had not witnessed it yourself, you would have laughed at Gyomei.

“And Zenitsu managed to kill it with a katana,” You point out.

“I was so scared I passed out again,” the blond mentions with a shiver.

Gyomei nods.

“More or less. Zenitsu and I come from a long line of demon slayers, and though our methods are a secret, I can tell you that there are hundreds of us across each region. For instance, I am known as the Stone Pillar of Tohoku.”

So, they kill demons? But then why did no one save the man who had been killed before you had showed up? You have a feeling Gyomei isn’t telling you something.

“I know that it’s hard to understand, but it’s best not to concern yourself with our business,” the said man mentions. “If you have no other questions, then Zenitsu will escort you to the exit. Demons only come out during the night, so there is nothing to fear when the sun is out.”

You raise a brow. Is that it? No promises to keep you safe, or what to do once the sun goes down. Your suspicions about them grow.

“I have no more questions,” you lie.

You have many, but you doubt that Gyomei will answer them.

The said man nods and stands up.

“Sorry for your misfortune.”

He leaves you alone with Zenitsu, exiting the room.

“The Boss is scary, isn’t he?” The blond asks. He laughs and motions for you to follow him.

You take an uneasy breath and stand with a grunt. Your shoes are near the bed, so you don’t have to search for them. A question comes to mind, and you hum.

“I forgot to ask about my arm. Will it be OK?”

Zenitsu nods.

“It should be. You had to have a lot of stitches and it may leave a scar, but if treat it like an animal attack, dress and clean the wound, then it shouldn’t become infected.”

That is good to know.

You slide on your shoes and frowned as you see the state of your uniform. Your coworkers are going to lose their shit. The fabric is torn and covered in blood. Damn. What are you to do?

Seeing movement from the corner of your eye, your face turns red once you notice that Zenitsu has removed his yellow jacket, handing it to you.

“You can borrow it if you don’t want to draw attention,” he mentions.

You thank him and slide it on. The jacket doesn’t fit well, but you don’t mind. You shove your phone and house keys into your pocket and take in his scent. At least he smells good.

“You look so cute in my clothes,” Zenitsu coos.

You ignore him and march from the room; your face is red from embarrassment. Once Zenitsu catches up, he leads you down the hall and up a flight up steps. You are right to assume that you are in a basement, but you never expected the house or whatever you are in to be so big. It reminds you of a traditional manor with tatami mats on the floor and rooms blocked with shoji screens.

“This place is nice,” You mention.

“This is Boss Gyomei’s manor. But the commission I make is enough to live comfortably,” Zenitsu explains.

You raise a brow. Do people commission him?

“You get paid for killing demons?”

“Something like that. We receive a request, then we go out and kill the demon causing the problem and we get paid,” he answers.

You narrow your eyes.

“I thought the Pillars protected the regions. What happens if the client doesn’t have money, but a demon is harassing them?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that,” Zenitsu answers in low voice.

There is something off about them. The demon slayers are an organized crime group who profit off the clients who pay them for their protection. But then, why did Zenitsu save you?

“How much does a job cost?”

“Around 200 million yen, including clean-up costs,” the blond answers.

You feel faint.

“I don’t have that sort of money.”

Does Gyomei expect you to pay him back? You never asked for his help.

“Since I acted on my own accord, the Boss doesn’t except for you to pay him, but the clean-up cost still applies,” Zenitsu explains with a laugh.

“H-how much is that?” You asks.

Zenitsu hums.

“I think it’s 2%.”

“I don’t have 4 million yen! That’s ridiculous!” You shout.

The blond looks over at you and smiles.

“You are fortunate that Boss Gyomei has a kind heart. If you had ended up in debt with the Wind Pillar or the Snake Pillar, then you’d have to work until you die.”

Who is he kidding? You have to pay the cleaning cost. You groan.

“I’m never going to be able to make that much yen.”

“Not to mention, you owe me too. I could have died out there,” Zenitsu whines.

You are starting to think it would have been easier if the demon had just ate you. There is no telling how much Zenitsu is asking for.

“Don’t look so down. I’ll see if the Boss will ignore the cleaning cost, and as for my payment, well, I’ll let you know when I think of something,” the said man mentions.

How considerate of him. You feel worn out and defeated. You follow Zenitsu to the entrance of the manor and glare at his chipper expression.

“Just head over the bridge and you should be back in the city,” he explains. “I’ll see you soon.”

You hope not. You grumble a curse at him and leisurely walk towards the bridge as he had instructed. All you want to do at this point is to go home and go to bed. But you have a story to makeup and a co-owner to call.

It is going to be one hell of a day.

Nearly two weeks pass before you are able to return to work. Your arm is still a bit tender, but at least it doesn’t hurt as bad as it had before. You had told your co-workers that a stray had knocked you down and bit you. It isn’t a complete lie, but it also isn’t without consequence. Your co-workers make you take a taxi home every night; your funds are taking a beating and you still have not heard from Gyomei about your debt. Or seen Zenitsu for that matter.

Not like it matters. You have a lot to worry about. Currently, you are at Amaku, having to work behind the counter because of your arm, but on occasion, you sneak into the kitchen to help make Monaka with ice cream filling.

When it becomes night, it begins to rain. You know that the flow of customers will slow down, so you take a moment to use the bathroom.

You are washing your hands when someone knocks on the door.

“There's someone in here,” you declare.

“It's me,” Hisae announces.

You turn up your eyes in a spirited manner and unlock the door, letting your co-worker.

“I was about to come out. You could have waited,” You mention.

“Fat chance,” Hisae snorts. “Besides, I wanted to be the one to surprise you.”

You raise a brow.

“I'm lost,” you admit.

“There's a delinquent man here to see you,” Hisae mentions.

What is she going on about?

“I don't know any delinquents, let alone any men.”

“He seems to know you,” Hisae utters with a pout.

You turn up your eyes and walk out of the bathroom to see for yourself what Hisae is been talking about. As you round the corner into the customer area, your eyes widen upon seeing the familiar blond. You slide back around the corner and hid.

“Zenitsu,” you utter. Your face feels warm.

Of course, it is him. He did say that he’d be seeing you around. But why did he have to show up at Amaku? And in front of your co-workers.

“So, you do know him,” Hisae mentions.

You shake your head in agreement. There is no point in lying.

“When were you going to tell us you were seeing someone?” Hisae asks.

“I'm not,” You argue.

You hush her and try to listen to what he and Shouko are talking about. All you can hear is your co-worker reciting the menu to him.

“It all sounds so good,” Zenitsu mentions. “What do you suggest?”

You groan and step out into the open.

“I suggest you buy something and leave,” you express. “It's almost closing time.”

Zenitsu shouts your name in glee.

You face heats up. Does he not hear you?

“Zenitsu came here from Aomori to escort you home. Isn't that sweet?” Shouko asks.

“It's a bit creepy,” you admit.

“Creepy?” Zenitsu asks. He walks to your side and puts his arm around you. An umbrella dangling from a cord around his wrist dampens your uniform, making you curl your nose. “But that's what a boyfriend does.”

You elbow him in the ribs.

“Why are you so mean to me?” Zenitsu asks with a cough.

“Because, dear, that's how I show my love,” You tease.

Shouko raises a brow.

“So, you two are dating?”

You sigh. Poor Shouko is terrible at reading the room.

“He looks like a delinquent,” Hisae points out, motioning towards her head.

“This is actually my natural color,” Zenitsu admits.

Hisae laughs.

“Sure it is.”

She walks behind the counter and stands next to Shouko.

“How long have you and Mister Delinquent been dating behind our backs?” She asks.

Hisae wears a smile but her eyes are unnerving.

“We're not––“

“A week,” Zenitsu answers.

You take an uneasy breath.

“We met at the clinic. Zenitsu works there and helped treat my arm after the stray bit me. But we’re not dating.”

You turn up your eyes upon hearing him openly whine over your answer. It is bad enough that you are lying; you are not about to pretend to be in a relationship with him.

“We close in 20 minutes, but you are free to stay around until we lock up, Zenitsu,” Shouko offers.

The blond smiles.

“Thank you.”

Hisae and Shouko return to the kitchen, leaving you alone with him.

You sigh.

“What did you come here for? The real reason.”

Zenitsu hushes you.

“We’ll discuss it back at your apartment,” he answers in a whisper.

You have a terrible feeling you know what the blond wants to discuss; the word debt is crawling around in your head like a cockroach. Merely nodding, you return to the counter and check the online app. No last-minute orders have been made, so you begin to bag the display candies and cakes, even going out of your way to make Zenitsu a to go box.

Once the shop is clean and locked up, You wish your co-workers a good night and usher Zenitsu outside. The rain seems to have lightened up a bit, but you still aren’t eager to walk home in such clammy weather. Perhaps a taxi is easier.

“At least the station won’t be crowded tonight,” Zenitsu mentions.

“Yeah, I––”

You lose your train of thought when you see the bright smile on his face and the umbrella over his head.

“You only have one umbrella.”

“Why would I need another?” the blond asks unashamedly.

You glare at him. Of course. You walk to his side and stand as close as possible to him to prevent the rain from pouring down on you.

“If I get sick, then I am going to choke you,” you utter.

Zenitsu laughs.

“Stay close to me.”

A sweet scent akin to the ozone radiates off him. You turn your head to take in his scent ashamed of the action.

Now who is being a creep, your mind teases.

Eat my ass, you snap, as sharp as a whip.

Are you seriously arguing with yourself? You take an uneasy breath.

“So, I see you don’t have your katana.”

Zenitsu hums.

“I don’t always need it.”

“But what if a demon attacks you tonight?” You ask.

How is he going to protect himself?

“I didn’t think about that!” The blond shouts. Tears gather in his eyes.

“Are you ignorant or something? How do you not think about that?” You ask in disbelief. “A demon could swoop in and tear out your eyes and you’d be a free meal.”

Zenitsu glares at you.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! I don’t want to die!”

You hush him. His rant is starting to draw attention from passing people. He has a big mouth.

“No more demon talk, I swear,” you utter. “So please calm down.”

Zenitsu nods in agreement.

Honestly, you aren’t sure how he is still alive. You sigh; you were right, a taxi would have been easier.

Arriving at your apartment, you unlock the door and usher Zenitsu inside. You are a bit nervous about him being in your apartment – chores had fallen behind since your injury – but not as nervous as you were walking home from the station. At least with a demon slayer at your side, you feel a little more at ease.

“Do you want something to drink?” You ask, watching the blond glance around the room – you apartment isn’t too impressive; you have a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom space with an attached kitchen and little to no closet room.

Zenitsu hums, lifting the to-go box that you made him.

“I have all I want.”

“Then make yourself at home, but don’t get my couch wet,” You order.

He removes his damp coat and sits down on the couch.

You pour yourself a drink from the fridge, then join him in the living room, grinning as the blond seems to enjoy the sweets you packed him. Your face heats up and you clear her throat.

“You wanted to discuss something with me,” you bring up.

Zenitsu licks the remnants of an Ichigo daifuku from his fingers and hums.

“My visit regards your debt to Boss Gyomei.”

You thought so. You sigh.

“What is the damage?”

“The 200 million you owe is squared away. I came by to tell you that I went ahead and paid the cleaning cost for you.”

He did? You widen your eyes.

“Why? I’m a complete stranger to you. There is no reason for you to have done that.”

“Even people like us can do something good for another,” Zenitsu answers. “And besides, I like you too much to see you buried in debt because of one bad day. If Amaku went under, you’d never talk to me again.”

You smile despite your best effort to control your emotions. Warm tears sting your eyes.

“You’re damn right. But now I owe you another favor.”

Zenitsu grins.

“I know what to ask for too.”

“If it’s for me to marry you, then no,” you reply, sharp as a whip.

The blond groans.

“I could die though.”

“That’s on you,” you utter. “But, maybe I can take you out one afternoon.”

His face turns red.

“My wife is asking me on a date.”

You playfully turn up your eyes. For a coward and a flirt, Zenitsu is rather adorable. It feels good to be wanted. A sense of desire washes over you.

“As for the second favor,” you utter. “Close your eyes.”

Zenitsu raises a curious brow but closes them regardless.

You lean over and gently kiss him on the cheek, pleased as the heat rising from his face warms your lips. You smile and veer away.

“I hope that will be enough.”

Zenitsu turns to you and in that brief moment that your eyes peer into his, you are captivated. You aren’t sure what comes over you, but you want more.

“I want to kiss you,” you admit.

“O-ok,” the blond utters.

You link your hand with his and lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as Zenitsu kisses you back. A soft wet smack meets your ears as you separate from him, but as soon as you do, the blond bends in and kisses you again, only with a bit more pressure.

You moan softly and lock your lips around his lower one, sweeping the tip of your tongue over it. You are pleased when Zenitsu reciprocates. With light touches, you toy with him, using your tongue to tag his own, only for him to hum and lift his hands to your face. Deepening the kiss, a wave of pleasure sweeps across your body, causing your nipples to harden as a result.

Raising your arm, you run your fingers through his hair, parting from him; a thin lead of saliva links you to Zenitsu until you run your tongue over your lips. Your breath comes out hot and thick as you press a kiss to his jaw, then veer over, sucking gently on his ear lobe.

Zenitsu groans and clutches your upper thigh, reaching for the button on your pants.

You sit up on your knees and remove them, then crawl into his lap. His hard cock presses against the lining of your panties, urging you to grin. You ease his head back, giving him another closed mouth kiss, then part your lips and run your tongue across his lower lip. As Zenitsu opens his mouth, you reach down and undo his pants.

A groan leaves his mouth as you take his cock in your hand and stroke it. You want him badly. You move aside your panties and position yourself over him, but Zenitsu clutches your arm.

“W-wait!”

You widens your eyes and part from him. Your face is hot with embarrassment. Did you do something wrong? Perhaps he doesn’t want to go further with you.

“Do you want to stop?” You ask.

Zenitsu shakes his head no.

“I don’t have a condom.”

You smile gently.

“I have one in the bedroom. Give me a moment.”

You reluctantly crawl from his lap and hurry into your bedroom, searching through the side table where you keep them. You are fortunate; Zenitsu is a considerate man. You tear a packet from the container and briskly walk back into the living room.

Handing it to him, you remove your panties and wait for Zenitsu to roll the condom down onto his cock, then resume your spot. You lean up on your knees and spread yourself, sinking onto him until you are seated in his lap. Your walls clench as a result and though it hurt for a moment, you feel utterly full.

You groan and clutch the backrest, rocking your hips a slight bit to get a feel for him. Zenitsu grabs your hips and urges you to move, thrusting into you when you bounce your lower body. It takes you a minute with his urgent need to fuck you in order to find a decent rhythm, but once you do, a gentle sensation begins to grow in your stomach.

It isn’t enough to push you over the edge, but having him inside you drives you mad. Your breath comes out in short pants as Zenitsu quickens his pace, wrecking your pussy with deep and quick thrusts. You try your best to keep up, sliding your arms around his shoulders for leverage, rocking your hips.

Hearing Zenitsu groan, you feel his hips shudder. His thrusts switch between fast and deep to slow. Then he stalls, bottoming out in you with a moan.

You pant in exhaustion, grinning as the blond does the same. Your throat is dry, but you are still eager to continue. The grip on you eases up and Zenitsu helps you slide off his lap.

He removes the condom and ties the top to prevent his cum from leaking out, but as he goes to stand, you stop him.

“I didn’t get off,” you mention.

Zenitsu widens his eyes.

“You didn’t?”

You answer his question with a shake of your head. Lying down on the couch, you motion for the blond to come over. He sits the used condom aside and hovers over you, peering into your eyes.

“Give me a minute and––”

“Go down on me,” you beg.

The blond smiles. He slides between your legs and lifts them over his shoulders, resting on his stomach.

You hum as his finger trace your tight hole, entering you. It isn’t a cock, but honestly, you don’t mind. Once he adds another finger, he begins to curl them inside you. Zenitsu spreads your outer lips and leans down to run his tongue over you clit; the warmth of his breath sends chills across your body. Your walls clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into your eager pussy.

You arch your back, panting as his pace quickens. The tension is driving you insane. You want to cum so bad, but you aren’t quite there yet.

“A little lower,” you beg.

Zenitsu raises his head and takes a breath, then does as you instruct, flicking his tongue over the very spot you need in order to curl you toes. Yes! Your thighs tighten around his head.

Shutting your eyes, you focus on the sensation coursing through you. Your mind wanders over to a few minutes ago when the blond had fucked you. Had you been comfortable with your words you would have begged Zenitsu to make you cum; you would have assured him that you belonged to him and no one else. Oh, how you wanted to.

Your face heats up as the tension in your stomach escalates. You are close. Taking an uneasy breath, your hands wander, teasing and pinching your hardened nipples. The pain is ecstasy; a perfect blend that brings out an airy moan. A familiar and long-awaited sensation tickles you.

“Don’t stop,” you plead.

Zenitsu closes his lips around your clit and brushes his tongue against you in a way that makes you grind against him.

It is too much to handle. A wave of pleasure crashes over you, filling your body with warmth as you cum. You open your eyes, but your vision is blurred by tears. Once your high begins to fade and your body relaxes, you ease your legs from Zenitsu’s shoulders and took a deep breath; your core is throbbing in reaction.

“Thank you,” you utter.

Zenitsu sits up and wipes his mouth clean. His cheeks are red and his breath is labored, but he smiles.

Groaning, you sit up and hum. You are exhausted. Taking a look at the clock on the wall, you frown.

“It’s late,” you mention.

Zenitsu hums.

“Do you want me to go?”

You shake your head no.

“You can stay if you want.”

You aren’t sure what the consequences of having sex with Zenitsu will have on your potential relationship with him – if there is one – but wondering what-if can wait for another time.

You stretch and stand up with a grunt.

“I’m going to clean up, then go to bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want, or join me in the bedroom.”

The blond smiles.

“I’ll lay beside you however long you let me.”

You are relieved. To be honest, you feel safer with him around. Perhaps you will never leave your bed again.

A girl can dream.

#demon slayer #zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer fanfic #zenitsu x reader #aged-up characters #mafia au #emsyakuza900 #gyomei himejima #demon slayer smut #one-shot

87 notes · View notes