#tanjimimi

[izvmimi]

cw: slightly inebriated smut (only tanjiro is tipsy, really). tanjiro being his soft self. fem!reader. modern au, characters are a little older than college age. one (or more) silly jokes. pussy eating. penetrative sex.

Your boyfriend is far too social, you think to yourself as you tip your red plastic cup to your lips, drinking the last of the punch Tanjiro handed to you before returning to practically schmoozing the crowd, the remainder of your friends and old classmates gravitating around him like moths to a flame. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself again, taking another sip, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat with an airy gulp. He’s popular and social; he shines like the sun always, while you are somewhere closer to hot summer rain, sweet at times but intense and easily transitioned to thunder and stormy weather if suboptimal conditions arise. 

Similar to now. 

You can already feel your social battery slowly drain to the end of its lifetime, dreading what will ensure thereafter. Shinobu and Mitsuri had enthused you earlier in commenting on outfits and filling you in on gossip (Zenitsu having a restraining order against him ordered by two girls in the exact same neighborhood and Inosuke accidentally eating cat food Gyomei had left out for the neighborhood stray then asking for more), but now Obanai had quickly captured the latter girl’s attention again and they were off to God knows where in this party house, while Shinobu had decided to turn in early and disappeared without comment. You find yourself perched on a high stool while the remainder of the party continues to rage, loud music making your head pound with the bass. At some point, Tengen and Rengoku started doing competitive keg stands and you’re almost sure that if you see Tanjiro do this too you’re going to head upstairs and go to bed without another word. Instead, he’s playing a drinking game with Sabito and Giyuu, Sabito with a pingpong ball in hand and aiming a little too seriously at the arranged cups. Murata stands at the other end of the table frowning and you wonder when he’ll ever win a game.

The Demon Slayers are a rowdy bunch when they party. 

You reach the end of your drink and consider a second when you suddenly feel a hand clap onto your shoulder, squeezing hard enough that it startles you to the point of nearly falling off your seat.

You yelp, and Inosuke is grinning once you turn, and you think again about the cat food before you ask what he wants. 

“What do you mean what do I want- JANJIGO YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO LEAVE!”

Inosuke’s loud voice cuts clear through the music, enough that Kanao and Aoi whip around from their lazy positions cuddled on the couch to look in your direction.

“I did not say-” you hiss at him, but Tanjiro’s already quick to come over, smiling all the while. Inosuke grins and disappears, and you consider throwing something at him, your face is so warm and embarrassed, but you’re quickly distracted by Tanjiro’s gentle voice.

“Hey, are you tired?” he says breathily. He’s already easing you off the seat, taking the cup from your hand to discard it, and holding your other hand gently with the other. He’s pleasantly buzzed, soft red on his cheeks matching the tint of his dark eyes. He’s disarming you with how cute he is, and overly affectionate, his face nuzzling into your neck practically as he leans in. 

“Tanjiro~, there are people around…” you remind him as he starts to kiss your neck, but he whispers a soft ‘so?’ and you realize there’s not much you can do to deter him from being too handsy, and decide to pull him away before you end up embarrassed. He’s practically laughing as you pull him up the wooden steps of the rented home, and you move so quickly upstairs, you end up stumbling, only to be scooped up and pulled close to get kisses between giggles.

“What are you-”

“You’re clearly too drunk to walk,” he teases, although he’s slurring his speech far more than you are, eyes gently lidded as he looks at you. Warm around the ears, you decide to abandon that fight, and remind him where the room you’re sharing with Mitsuri is, thankful that you’re not sharing with Shinobu and your roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Don’t drop me,” you remind him. 

“Wouldn’t ever for the world.” 

…

Tanjiro’s coordination despite inebriation is a bit too good. Not content to just drop you off and see you in the morning (as you expected) by the time the door is closed, he’s at your neck and then your chin and then your lips, until you’re kissed every inch from your forehead to the center of your breasts, and he’s pulling off your jeans, lips still closed around your nipple. Hands heavier than usual under the influence of more than a few drinks run all over your body, and play with your pussy as he kisses you, spit-slicked fingers toying with your clit and your insides until they’re wet, then further wetted by the motions of his tongue. Sloppily he makes out with your pussy, head between your dangling knees until you’re moaning and squeezing your thighs shut around his head; something that doesn’t stop him, only spurs him further. 

“Sorry for leaving you alone down there,” he whispers against your pussy, then slurps further, and it’s almost laughable that he chooses now to apologize. You laugh and whisper that it’s fine but then he licks a long stripe through your cunt that makes your back arch as you let out a moan and your fingers tug shakily on strands of his hair. He says a playful ‘ow’ that has you whispering sorry but shuddering all the while.

“I’ll give you all the attention you need, okay?” he promises. You nod as he gets up and pulls his shirt over his head, your eyes practically swimming with desire as you watch him. He catches you enjoying the show and winks and you would die for the cringe if not for the act that he’s quickly turning you over onto your belly, taking a handful of your ass hostage before pressing his chest to your back. 

Slipping inside you, he groans a bit.

“The door’s locked, right?” you murmur, trying to distract from the stretch between your folds.

“Yeah,” he says through a grunt. You're not sure if he actually knows for sure but you do know, he'd never lie to you. You sigh, as he pushes in to the brim, and then lets you settle around him, letting his fingers pet your hair gently, and his other hand plant carefully into the mattress beside you. Still folded over the edge of the bed, he gently grips onto your scalp, and then he’s thrusting in, slow, then fast, then faster, then hard as your breaths deepen and you let out a moan. Skin slapping against skin, your voices melding together, Tanjiro is soon a little too exuberant, and a little too strong, soon lifting you off the mattress until your trembling arms are trying to find purchase on his slightly bent knees. Just seconds into this position, he has some mercy on you and it’s a normal stand, gentle, slow, loving - he kisses your neck as he moves you up and down, careful, until he slows, resting his arm against your tummy and breathing in your scent.

“I love you, you know that,” he says, breathily. You savor the twitch of his cock inside you as he eventually lays you down, additional, slower strokes accompanied with deep kisses. Your heart flutters as you keep going. 

You know that. The social butterfly will always come back to you, whether you’re a thorny rose or a bright daisy, your special fragrance always carrying him home.

[cheribl0ssom]

the lovely @izvmimi & tanjiro!! thank you for giving me the opportunity to draw your lovely selfship🥺✨🌸💗

[izvmimi]

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

i think tanjiro would kill him and me atp

i do love that my harem is like... justice league and your harem is like the ancient primordial evil

we should meet up for tea

Truly! You and I are both predictable in the completely opposite way 💀

I think we should plan a group activity. I’m sure Muzan and Tanjiro would love to spend time together.

Let’s plan a picnic.

[bakvrue]

Guys like the way tanjiro is just gently holding onto mimi... A hand on her back supporting her.... a hand wrapped around to the fron holding hers, ready to follow anywhere. To support her in anything. Like love is real 😭😭😭😭

[strawberrystepmom]

happy tanjimimi day!!!! tanjiro x f!reader. fluff! a little birthday present for @izvmimi 🎈 | wc 1.2k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

“And here is the last of it.”

You nearly topple over beneath the stack of gifts and goodies in your arms, reaching above your head and toward the ceiling. Your friend beams as she tucks in a little linen wrapped box at the bottom of the pile, a special gift just for you from her.

Time has passed so quickly since you’ve arrived in this strange timeline that your birthday is already on the horizon, two days away, and you find yourself searching to find where the rest of the days and nights disappeared to. You’ve trained, learned, tried new things, experienced life through a point of view you couldn’t have dreamed of seeing.

Above all, you’ve just so happened to fall in love over these many many months. It’s a gift you’ve met a man that you love who shares the same special day, two souls separated by time and later joined together by a freak twist of fate.

It’s a lot sometimes but you manage the best you can. The overwhelming amount of parcels atop your forearms is currently not helping though.

“What is that?” You ask, pursing your lips. She peeks around the pile, gray eyes sparkling, and shrugs with a mischievous smirk. “Something from me for you. Wear it for the birthday boy.”

Face warming at the insinuation of what could potentially be inside, you sigh and shake your head. It’s too late for you to turn away this carefully curated collection the Hashira and other friends you’ve made since settling in with Tanjiro have given you so you accept it reluctantly. You spot food, sake, books, and that’s just merely scratching the surface. She senses your trepidation and smiles at you softly, comfortingly.

“All of this is for both of you and it’s meant to last the entire weekend so you don’t have to spend a moment apart.” She tilts her head to the side, silently begging you to just give in and accept the kindness of others. “There are robes and snacks and…”

Turning around, you bend and place the pile down on your futon, next to your half packed suitcase. The perk of sharing birthdays with your beloved is that the weekend becomes an event about both of you. The downside is that your friends have insisted upon doing this despite your protests against making a big deal out of things.

“It’s too much,” you sigh, crossing your arms over your stomach. “All of this is just too much.”

She shakes her head and walks toward you, pulling you into a hug. You lean her head on her shoulder and she gently pats your back, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

“Stop it! It’s not. We love you guys and just want you to have fun. Now, stop complaining and get packing, he told me he wanted to have you in the springs by no later than sunset.” You look up at her, a single brow raised and she raises one back.

“This is my first birthday here, you know,” you start and she nods, still rubbing your back. “I know that’s why it has to be special so accept your gifts and go celebrate with Tanjiro.”

There’s a finality it feels hard to argue with so you groan and stand up while she walks past you to regather the bundle of gifts and pack them into a basket you can carry along with you while you and your beloved take the winding trail up the mountain to the springs and inn.

⊹・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

For July, the evening is surprisingly cool. A breeze ruffles the surrounding trees and flora, the moon a perfect crescent in the sky glimmering down on two of her favorite subjects. Crickets and cicadas chirp and a windchime tinkles in the distance, lending background music to your easy conversation with Tanjiro.

“I can’t believe all the mochi,” he chuckles, the back of your head resting against his chest, the rest of you crowded against his body, his muscular thighs trapping you. “Do you believe they really made it or did they buy it?”

You shrug, looking over your shoulder to smile up at him. The rising steam of the hot spring has warmed his face enough that his cheeks are perfectly rosy, a little bead of sweat threatening to drip off of his nose and down your shoulder. Contemplating wiping it away, you lift your hand halfway, but change your mind in the process, snuggling against him.

“I’ll bet they made it. Nobody we know really does anything halfway.”

It’s true. You took an inventory of everything the two of you were given after arriving at the inn and settling in for your short stay, stacking a few books and journals in the corner of the room along with mochi, onigiri, four bottles of sake (apparently everyone really wants the two of you to tie one on…), brand new matching yukata and sandals, and for you, a shimmering hair clip that was in that little linen wrapped box with a note in modern English instructing you to wear that and nothing else to make his birthday evening special.

It’s hard to accept that you will always be this loved no matter where you go, even by the friends dragged here with you inadvertently.

“I’m grateful we were able to get away from everyone though,” Tanjiro admits, rescuing you from your own slightly spiraling thoughts. “I want to have you all to myself this weekend.”

You giggle, nodding in agreement, turning slightly so that you are facing him. He’s using a modern word, a habit he has formed in many successful attempts to connect better with you. Showing your appreciation, your arms find a home around his neck. You pull him down to press his forehead against yours, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Me too.” The smile on your face is as beautiful as anything he has ever seen, a gift for him from the cosmos themselves considering the way in which you were delivered to him to begin with, and he rubs his forehead against yours. “Thank you for considering it in the first place, I was worried you’d rather celebrate as a group instead of just us.”

He wrinkles his nose, leaning in to kiss you so softly it mirrors the breeze that once again ruffles the atmosphere around you and sends ripples across the surface of the warm water.

“Never.” He pecks you again, his lips barely parted from yours. “They’re great but this is our day and I want to celebrate it with just us for as long as I can.”

You raise a brow, intrigued by his innuendo, your lips now the ones to begin the dance the pair of you know all too well.

“What do you mean by that, Tanjiro?”

He grins and your world tips over, reminding you once again that fate had designs for this before you could stop them, shaking his head.

“Just thinking about someday when we have children and will celebrate with them.” He kisses you, heart pounding at the thought of sharing this particular joy of life with you. “But until then, I want it to be me and you.”

Nodding your agreement, you let your lips do any further talking, turning your hips so that you can lightly straddle him in the warm water, hips easily and naturally settling against his.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded. female pronouns.

In all your focus on becoming strong enough to protect yourself and not be a burden to others, it hadn’t occurred to you that as a Demon Slayer, you’d be receiving a paycheck. 

A fat one at that.

You’re not exactly sure what to do with it. The envelope had shown up, slipped below the door of your lodgings at the Ubuyashiki mansion with your name on it, and while you’re not completely sure what the conversion rate + inflation would be, the sheer size of the stack was enough to make you quite confident that it was a lot of money. The issue is, you have very little use for money as you receive meals and board by virtue of Kagaya’s kindness, and the things you would buy if you could don’t particularly exist in this timeline. 

As you sit on your futon and think again about what it would mean to save and how banking would work in this timeline, and if it’s even worth it given your particular circumstances, a sudden flash of Tanjiro’s smile comes to mind, and you immediately know what to do.

You should buy him a gift. After all, you wouldn’t have gotten through your first mission if not for Tanjiro, you consider, your face warming as you consider what things you’ve seen him receive that delighted him the most. Then you consider that perhaps a gift is too presumptuous, and you see him happy when he has a nice meal, or perhaps you could get something nice for both him and Nezuko because that wouldn’t look too strange, plus he’s happy when she’s happy, or perhaps you could-

Your thought spiral is interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door. Two gentle raps, and then you hear his voice.

Think of an angel and he will appear.

“___, are you busy today?”

When you ignore your slightly quickened heartbeat to let him in, he looks just like the picture in your mind’s eye, sweet, practically glowing with warmth, save for the fact that you notice his hair is slightly damp and his skin dewy as if he’s just bathed. He’s wearing his Demon Slayer uniform but with his regular green and black checked haori over top and his sword is at his side as though he plans to travel. He smells good, and you hope you smell at least decent to him, too.

You shake your head no. 

“Are you planning on going somewhere? Did you get a new mission?” you ask. 

“No, I wanted to know…” he pauses for a moment, then scratches the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling, “if you wanted perhaps to go out to town with me. I was hoping to congratulate you for your first mission.”

You blink twice. He really is always one step ahead of you, you realize. 

Tanjiro lets his hand fall to the side and nods at you, now with a steadier expression. “You did a really great job.”

To this, you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“You mean by staying alive while you cleaned up?” you ask. Tanjiro decides to indulge in your humor, insisting, “It wasn’t all me.” he insists. 

Perhaps that much is true. Tanjiro is a good friend and mentor so it’s not odd that he would extend this kindness first. It’s also an opportunity it would be best to seize, treating him to udon or dango, and offering him some gratitude as well. 

Your mind may shift from time to time to the time he used his own mouth to suck turbulent air from your unnatural breathing technique out of your own lungs, but he is simply a friend.

And friends can hang out. 

—

“It’s a beautiful fit,” the shop owner says as you slip on a peach pink jacket with colorful embroidered petals and blossoms, the last of the four you’ve tried on to Tanjiro’s surprising patience, and glance at yourself in the mirror. 

Something about this entire scene feels wrong but also right to you. For one, you’re not the one who suggested this particular shop - rather it was Tanjiro who insisted you consider window shopping with him, under the guise of finding something for Nezuko, but soon you’d realized that he hadn’t exactly picked anything out, content to watch you leaf through hung designs and listen to the shopkeeper’s promise of superior quality compared to the other stores in the district. You consider that whatever would look good on you would look good on Nezuko and with each trying on of a jacket, you offer pros and cons.

This one is a bit airy and light, very comfortable for summer time.

I think this one might clash with her hair color.

The texture’s too thick here, I’m not sure I like this one as much but it’s very high quality, I can tell.

This last one however is simply perfect in feel and design, and you feel somewhat bad when you turn to Tanjiro and sheepishly say,

“This one is super pretty. I know we’re shopping for Nezuko but I think I might buy this one for myself.” Tanjiro smiles as he rises from the chair in the corner. He’s sat politely for the past few minutes saying very little except nodding appreciatively.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he states as casually as if he were describing the weather, then turns to the older lady running the shop, the same lady who had spent a few minutes glancing between him and you as well, and you’d pretended not to notice. 

“How much?” Tanjiro asks. 

Surprised, you wonder if he hadn’t heard you.

The seamstress names her price and Tanjiro is quick to give money, before you finally hold in your need to be polite and nudge him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He’s unfazed as he hands money over, then smiles at you.

“Buying you a gift.”

“You don’t have to…” you start, but trail off as the woman receiving the money shoots you a dirty look that has you fall silent.

“You’re right, I don’t have to. But I would like to,” he adds.

You leave the shop promptly with a parcel in your hand and the seamstress’ eyes on your back.

—

Perhaps you do look like a couple, even if that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Tanjiro won’t let you treat him to any of the food, insisting you save your money instead through bites of skewered meat and noodles, and you finally find out which bakery supplies the Castella he brings by for you and your friends, as well as the girls at the Butterfly Mansion.

It’s better than anything you’ve tasted in your time, even if you practically choke on a roll when the baker tells you Tanjiro is lucky to be in the company of a pretty girl.

In your own time, you’ve been called pretty before, but this description today strikes at the very pit of your stomach, filling it with butterflies. Does Tanjiro know that you’re pretty? Does he agree? You ponder this for a few moments, then you’re immediately embarrassed to be thinking something so childish. 

Whether you’re pretty or not is moot. To him, you’re a younger sister to whom he buys gifts and food. Perhaps more pathetic since you are not related, since you have no one else, since you’re trapped here.

Tanjiro doesn’t answer the question you’ve posed in your head out loud, but he grins.

“I’m quite lucky indeed.”

—

As you walk side by side at the close of the evening, Tanjiro enthuses you in your progress, and you talk about all and nothing. There are red bean paste buns in your hand that you chew on idly between thoughts.

You’re not sure how the day went by so quickly, not while you were parallel processing, doing mental math to figure out what he thinks of you - as friend, as someone to dote on like a child, as someone who he could potentially…

No, that cannot possibly be it.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks. His cheeks are a warm pink and he’s looking straight ahead rather than at you, but his shoulders are relaxed and he bites and chews as he waits for your answer.

“Of course, I did,” you tell him. “This is…,” you pause, then continue, “probably the first time I’ve been anywhere nice, just for fun, since I got to this place.” Admitting it feels strange, but it’s true. Your life has now been limited to the mansion and towns you don’t know. Duty-driven, despair-driven, danger-driven. 

Tanjiro looks at you for a moment, and for just a moment his look is wistful. 

“Are you happy here?” he asks. Your mouth opens then closes, and then he quickly catches himself in a nervous laugh.

“Probably a stupid question, given none of your family is here, and you don’t have any of your technology and it’s not even your country and-”

You squeeze his hand for a moment.

“I’m happy now,” you offer him, then let go quickly. “Thank you for spending time with me.”

His mouth opens for a moment, and you wonder if you overstepped but he beams, and you wonder what you’d do without this small friendship.

“We should go back,” you quickly fill in before he can say something else and you can regret touching him. You’re the first to take a few steps forward, practically skipping, snacks and new clothing in hand, and you hear him behind you catching up.

“Yeah, let’s get you home safe.”

[izvmimi]

cw: reader and tanjiro are engaged. tanjiro gets roped into an unfamiliar marriage custom. fluff. fem!reader.

When Tanjiro said he was willing to do anything for you, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. 

The cloth Genya decided to tie around his nose is a little too tight for his liking, and it doesn’t help that in addition to that, his nostrils are stopped up with more additional scraps of cotton than he’d like. The intention is to block his sense of smell which he understands is practically cheating, but it's disorienting feeling like he can’t breathe through anything but his mouth, and the tissue is shoved up so far he can practically feel it tickling his brain.

But he can endure it. For you. 

Tanjiro sucks in lungfuls of air through his mouth, then slowly breathes out before deciding to reset his thoughts with a smile. Genya looks directly in his face, then smirks, while Zenitsu, despite his blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion, takes the time to adjust Tanjiro’s hair tousled slightly out of place by Genya’s ‘aggressive’ helping, then shakes his head.

“This is a weird ritual,” he finally admits.

Inosuke, who’s found a place on to lay comfortably and lazily on the tatami despite all the other young men in some sort of reasonable sitting position, laughs loudly. 

“That’s what I said!” he yells, forgetting all about an indoor voice. He shoots up like a board, then points directly at Tanjiro, who has risen by now, trying to shake off his sudden nerves. “She already agreed to marry you, so what’s the point of all this, Gonpachiro!!!! Just take her and run before she changes her mind!”

Tanjiro takes another breath, forgetting his voice is nasal now, then huffs.

“She said it’d make her feel more at home, so I might as well.”

Genya rolls his eyes, but knows he’d do the same. Giyuu and Sanemi, older than the rest of the men in the room and as such, less naturally rowdy, exchange a look. 

“So what’s the punishment if you can’t pick her out in a line-up?” Giyuu asks. “The engagement is over?”

Tanjiro pales quickly at the thought, then shakes his head.

“According to the custom, I just have to pay a fine to her parents.”

Zenitsu shakes his head while Inosuke bursts out laughing. “Like hell I would-” Inosuke starts, but Zenitsu slaps his hand over his mouth. 

“She doesn’t have parents here,” Giyuu reminds him, the look in his cool blue eyes less inquisitive than it is expositional. Tanjiro nods.

“Lame if there aren’t any stakes,” Genya points out, picking lint off of his jacket. “Other than looking like a dumbass, I guess.”

Sanemi gives him a glance, then grins before looking back at Tanjiro.

“How about I beat you to death if you mess up?”

His eyes gleam wildly at the opportunity while Tanjiro purses his lips to the side, ignoring Genya who at the same time offer to help his older brother.

“Are you going to let go of any opportunity to injure me?”

Sanemi runs his hands through his white hair, still smirking to himself as he immediately replies, “absolutely not.”

Tanjiro sighs, but his attention is turned when his younger sister finds her way to the entrance where the young men sit and wait prior to the ceremony. Nezuko is radiant as usual, her raven hair pulled back into a neat bun and her dark pink eyes practically luminescent. Tanjiro can already feel Zenitsu’s awed stare at her, but these days he’s quieter about how much he desires her out of a mature fondness now that he too is marriageable age. Nezuko smiles as she looks upon the men in the room, and more so as she appraises how nice her brother looks. 

The haori he wears today is nothing like his simple checkered one, dark green and laced with swirls of gold, complimentary to the burgundy tones of his hair, and despite his face being wrapped up in a makeshift mask to prevent him from sniffing out his bride, he remains handsome as usual. She adjusts the haori himo, slipping a couple of wisteria flowers within the string to accent the knot.

It’s not his wedding day yet, but he will still look wonderful. 

“Are you all ready?” Nezuko asks. She smiles to herself as Tanjiro nods quickly and is the first to follow her out in the courtyard, the rest of the young men filing out behind her. Nezuko stands in pace with her brother, and squeezes his hand gently as they make their way to the decorated clearing where the ceremony will take place.

“You won’t mess up. You’ll know Neechan immediately,” she reassures him. 

He’d tell Nezuko that it’s too early for her to call you that, but in some ways, she probably knew that you and her would become family even before he did. 

Instead, Tanjiro smiles warmly at her, letting his fingers and hers exchange places to squeeze hers instead. You and Nezuko’s hands are different, naturally, but the warmth is similar because your hearts are similarly kind by nature. It’s comforting; despite from being thousands of miles away, separated for greater than a century, you remind him of home. 

—

Your heart races, shrouded in the light weight of a woven silk sheet. 

You’re not the only woman in this kneeling position; in fact, you are just one of six women arranged in a six-point star-shape in a small clearing beneath the bloom of plum blossom petals. Mitsuri, Kanao, your two best friends, and even Shinobu were willing to play along with you, dressed up in the same kimono, their heads and shoulders covered, and hands obscured in long sleeves set before themselves as they wait for the men to arrive. Everyone is quiet and perfectly still, although you know Mitsuri is trying her hardest to hold in her giggles, and Shinobu might get up and leave to go do something much more useful with her time any minute, and you wonder what the outcome will be of all this. 

You’re not exactly sure why you roped him into this or why Tanjiro even agreed to your nonsense, but there’s something you need to prove. Something about fate, something about an attraction that transcends an enamored gaze or a heightened sense of smell or touch. Something that proves to you that the draw between you, the metaphorical thread that has linked you across time and space is not something you’ve imagined.

Or perhaps you just find it romantic that he’d know you anywhere. 

But what if he doesn’t?

Hinatsuru did your makeup differently from the rest - an extra layer of gold dusted on your eyes, a deeper red on your lips. Wisteria is woven into your hair unlike the rest, and on your hands a red string is woven between your two pinky fingers. If he chooses you, you’ll untie one end and link it to his. An additional promise to love him forever. 

You’ve already said yes, you’ve already said yes.

Makio continues to play the koto as you take deep breaths and you can hear Tengen and Rengoku laughing loudly with the rest of the growing crowd, Suma telling her giggling toddler to stay still, soft, awkward footsteps following giggles. Gyomei is probably praying and if Obanai could figure out which one of the shrouded women is you, he’d probably have you strung up on the highest mountain peak for dragging his wife into this.

Now you can hear the men approaching, Inosuke and Zenitsu’s bickering the loudest, but you can sense that Tanjiro is near even if he’s quiet and moves stealthily. Perhaps it’s your love for him, perhaps it’s his presence that you can’t ignore, or perhaps it’s the fact that he shines so bright you can feel the warmth of his soul any time he’s near.

You remain perfectly still as Makio’s koto playing comes to a halt. Nezuko sings and passes between the six of you, a chill running through your spine as she taps each of your shoulders. You remain silent.

You can’t see Tanjiro set his eyes immediately on you, because if you did, your heart would be tranquil. Instead you keep yourself from shaking, the blood pumping through your veins quickly, your ears warming.

Even if he can’t pick you out in disguise, he still chose you. He wants you. You will spend the rest of your lives together, no matter what. 

“Thank you for sharing your custom, ___.”

Gyomei offers a short speech to explain what will be happening in the gathering, although the guests do know, enough so that even Urokodaki, who acts as a surrogate parent to the surviving Kamados is invited, and will be watching Tanjiro make his decision.

You think of the embarrassment if he ended up picking Kanao, despite the fact that it means nothing in the grand scheme of things, then think of the sheer pandemonium if Tanjiro were to unveil Mitsuri and almost break your cover.

Focus. 

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Tanjiro. Sniff her out! Oh right,  you can’t!”

Inosuke’s heckles get a laugh from the crowd for once.

“Choose fucking wisely,” you hear Sanemi say, followed by the crack of his knuckles. The menacing tone to his voice also threatens to floor you in laughter, and you wonder if your friend will hold back her demand for him to be nice or blow her own cover.

“Enough harrassment,” Tanjiro finally defends himself. You can’t hear him move, but you somehow, can see someone, probably him moving in the faint shadows of your shroud.

Don’t be wrong, you tell yourself, then you quickly remind yourself, he wouldn’t be.

You’re meant to be. 

“Hey.”

You hold your breath as Tanjiro settles on his knees before you, his hands closing around the edges of your shroud, and flipping the cloth up - quickly, confidently, almost defiantly. 

Eye to eye, you watch him smile as he cups your face, rough hands so gentle, so loving on your warming cheeks. The koto slows to a stop again.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, love practically dripping off his lips.

“You found me so quickly,” you whisper back, as your eyes mist. The onlookers watch as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Of course I did, I’d never lose sight of you even for a moment.”

And just like that, Hinatsuru’s hard work on your face is laid to waste; the koto plays again, heartily, your makeshift clones toss their veils and the crowd erupts in happy cheers.

[izvmimi]

tanjiro is practically force-feeding you fatsia sprouts again and you're sick of them. frowning, you keep your lips pressed together, looking from the plate to him, and then back out the window.

he sighs.

"... but they're good for you."

tanjiro pouts, and his face is cute and pleading enough that even you, despite the fact that you can't find yourself to stomach more of the vegetables when all you really want is something sweet, give in and indulge him. obediently, you open your mouth as the chopsticks make their way closer to your face and accept the bite, and just as quickly he smiles brighter than the sunlight peeking through the curtains of your bedroom.

"thank you for doing that for me," he says as you chew and swallow.

he's been worried sick for the past week, your lack of appetite after recovering from your last bout with a lower ranked demon (unaccompanied against his better wishes) seeming to extend far beyond what was acceptable for him. as a result, he'd taken to feeding you himself, which could have been romantic if he didn't insist on the healthiest - read, bland - food alive.

you purse your lips again at the idea of being congratulated for eating veggies like you are a small child, but you have been difficult. your most recent injury has kept you out of fighting commission and while you've gotten your mobility back, you visibly don't eat and sleep as much as is expected of your usually naturally vibrant self.

"don't pout," he teases, laughter on his lips. he sets the plate on the table, and his hand cups your face gently. leaning in close to you, enough that you're unable to avoid the adoration in his crimson eyes, he encourages you further. "i want you to get your strength back, so you have to eat okay?"

"i am eating."

"not sweets," he insists. you look at him, then wonder how willing he is to fight mitsuri when she brings you the plate of desserts you've been craving. too willing.

"fine."

taking the chopsticks from him quickly, you shovel down the rest of the fatsia sprouts while he sighs in relief, gently rubbing your back.

"stop worrying so much about me." you murmur, once your plate is completed. he eyes it, then back at you.

"too difficult. can't." he grins. "in fact, i won't!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "i thought you once said you could do anything for me."

he blinks, then tilts his head at you, and you bat your eyelashes, as though you've said something incredibly clever.

he pauses, then kisses your forehead.

"gosh, would you look at that? guess i lied."

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

[izvmimi]

cw: suggestive but no overt smut.

after sex, tanjiro tends to be the one to do the talking - not just because a lot of the time you're still catching your breath and your head spins with the haze of too much attention and too much pleasure, the kind that keeps your body quivering as you hold on to him, snuggling close so that all that grounds you is his scent,

but because he tells you how much he loves you, how lucky he is, how fate twists in mystical ways, must have, for you to end up together. it's hard for you to get used to being adored in such a way, but with time it gets easier to rest close to him and just let his words sweeten your ears.

but tonight is different. your head presses against his chest and his sweet utterances, as his fingers stroke down the curve of your leg rested against his lower half, are accented by the backdrop of the soft lub-dub of his heartbeat.

it doesn't feel real. it doesn't feel real.

you let out a deep breath. tanjiro pauses his speech for a moment then turns his head gently to kiss the top of yours.

"what's the sigh about, my love?" he asks.

you pause, letting your weary arms wrap around his midsection tighter. he's real, warm, his skin luminous and smooth in a thin layer of sweat, his touch ever present on your skin. he's marked you everywhere, endlessly, inside and out.

he's real and he's yours. and yet...

"it'll sound silly," you start.

"never," he reassures you. you let yourself breathe slowly, in and out, then lower your eyes so that you focus more on the dip between his clavicles than his all-too-inquisitive eyes. tanjiro sees through you like glass, and thinks you're just as fragile at times, and perhaps you are but you need to be taken seriously.

"sometimes i wake up and despite knowing all of this is insane but real and that if i tried to explain this to anyone from my time, i'd immediately get brought to a hospital, the least real part of this might be you."

tanjiro blinks, and then he laughs to himself.

"you've encountered demons for the first time in your life, yet i'm the one that's not real?" he repeats, and your cheeks warm, but you shake your head. it's silly, so silly, but it has to be said even if he'll tease you dotingly for it.

you've never experienced love like this. people have lusted after you many times before but this type of genuine care... it feels far more all-encompassing with so much less effort, like you don't deserve it, like decadence, like daydreaming too long, like eating more than your fill, like...

good things are earned, but tanjiro has never made you work hard for his affection a day in your life.

"you're not imagining this." he reassures you. his hand intertwines with yours, and presses it gently against his heart, and he smiles - he smiles, and your world is sun and light and peace again. "it beats, like yours. for you, even," he adds.

heat shoots through your body again and you shift, your legs pressing together, and your head pressed closer against his chest.

"i love you," you whisper, wetly.

he rubs your back and kisses your forehead. "me too. endlessly."

[izvmimi]

guys, i'm OVERJOYED by @/zestivivi's commission for tanjiro and i, we look pretty as a picture and i'm soooooooooo obsessed!!!

please commission her asap <333

[izvmimi]

thank you SO MUCH (!!!!) to @/nicolillies on instagram and my lovelies @heavenlyakin and @thevilqueen for making my cross-time period, cross-nationality dreams come to fruition 🥺🥺🥺💕💖❤️

[izvmimi]

what am i supposed to do against this? i have no chance

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded.

There should be far more trepidation, you think, as you approach the site on the mountain where it all began, but instead of being flanked by your two close friends looking as confused and terrified as you were that fateful day, Tanjiro is holding your hand in a loose but steadfast grip as you march your way up.

It isn’t the first time you’ve come back to visit the sham jizo statue since you made your way into this world - the first time trying to see if it would do the reverse of its curse and send you back home the way you came - but it’s the first time in a couple of years that you’ve made the trip and a lot of things have changed. 

You’re older, stronger, wiser; you’ve fallen in love. In fact, you’re engaged now, and are no longer unwaveringly preoccupied with finding your way back to your world, but rather focused on making this, making him home for you. Perhaps it’s this very shift in perspective that makes the pilgrimage much more meaningful to you as you walk hand in hand.

If Tanjiro can sense your peace, he’s not saying anything about it, content instead to look around and admire the view. 

“I can see why it was a popular touring spot,” he muses. Your search for the statue pauses for a moment and your eyes divert to him - he’s smiling as usual as he takes in the landscape with both eyes and all of his heart, and your own heart flutters a bit just looking at him. It hasn’t really ever been still since the first day you fell in love, truly, and it’s embarrassing sometimes to think about it too long - that even something as simple as watching him appreciate nature can move your heart to this extent. 

No one else is out here now, despite the fact that more than a hundred years in the future, you’d have been flanked by dozens of chattering foreign guests, fighting against jet lag and wishing you’d spent more time in Japanese classes. Now instead it’s quiet and serene with nothing to distract you except Tanjiro’s quiet movements.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” you muse. He nods a yes, and a hand cups your face carefully for just a moment, as though appraising your own beauty; you find yourself leaning into his hand, and just as quickly, his hold is gone and he laughs. 

“You’re so precious,” he teases once he lets go. You pout, again flustered as his hand resumes holding yours and you keep moving. Soon approaching the clearing, you find that the fake statue again has not reappeared. Tanjiro pouts then points his nose to the sky.

“No trace of anything foul or cursed here. I guess it’s gone for good,” he adds.

You sigh. “That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it?” 

“I’m guessing it’s not for you then,” he says. His eyes are on you, careful. You fall into a sitting position quickly, and he follows suit, watching you as you stare at the bare ground.

“It’s just a reminder that I really can never go back, even if I’m not sure I really want to,” you remind him. You’ve had this conversation before and he rubs your shoulder. 

“Even if you wanted to, I’d support you,” he offers. You look at him for a moment, then press your head on his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere without you so it’s moot point.”

Red string wraps around your ring finger in place of a ring, safely tucked in the corner of your top drawer in your bedroom back at the Mansion. He wears a similar symbolic string, soon to be replaced by matching rings forged with a tungsten, as a gift from Kotetsu that took you both by surprise. Durable, as will your bond be for as long as the two of you live.

[izvmimi]

yk how couples start to resemble each other after a while or pick up each other’s habits? what do you think you pick up from your f/o and vice versa?

[izvmimi]

cw: hurt/comfort with like too much comfort. part of isekai au. reincarnation mention. don't look at me lmfao.

The gathering around the irori in the home you are staying at between missions has long since dispersed - Inosuke and Zenitsu deciding to go to bed after an unnecessarily escalated spat, and your friends themselves having turned in for the night - and now all that remains is you and Tanjiro, sitting around the charcoal hearth. Now that Inosuke will no longer pop out of nowhere to interrupt any attempt at affection (as he has the habit of doing for a reason unknown to the two of you), Tanjiro moves closer to your seated position, his chin pressing gently on your shoulder. You’ve been staring fixedly at the burning charcoal for a moment now, your knees pulled to your chest as the fire continues to crackle just before your bare feet, your filled cup of tea untouched. He glances at it for a moment, then lets his hand gently cover yours pressed against the wooden floor as he rests behind you.

“Are you okay? You’ve barely touched your tea.”

You don’t automatically let yourself sink in his warmth, so he contents himself with letting his arms settle around your waist and pressing close. You remain still, pensive.

There is a fierce wind that blows just outside this dwelling, ice and snow bated by the wooden walls of this home; you can barely hear or feel it this close to the fireplace, warmed by both the dutiful flames and Tanjiro’s body heat. The muted sound of nature feels representative of the inner turmoil of your mind as you continue to look within the flames with intent, as though you can divine your own future through them. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

He’ll accept that answer for now as he settles on just holding you close, not knowing that he’s holding you together at this moment, as in many other instances over the past year. Tanjiro keeps himself quiet, humming every so often as though to remind you he’s there, breathing and existing by your side always.

The coal burns odorless as you watch it, but you can imagine that if you ask Tanjiro, he’d be able to tell you the complex myriad of notes to be inhaled in the unadulterated smoke. In your own time, you recall a fireplace in your childhood home that you’d never used and purchased firewood your parents had set aside, truly just for show with no intention for use in favor of central heating. In this time period, the charcoal is indispensable or you’d freeze to death. 

Tanjiro was once a coal burner and it is apt for him, down to the very spelling of his name. Steadfast, warm, dependable, a versatile healing and nourishing resource borne out of destruction. He hums again, and you shift finally, letting out a drawn out exhale.

He can tell you’re ready to speak, having come up to a conclusion in your own mind. You’ve fought demons today successfully, you’ve grown stronger, and yet, you’ve still received no answers about how to return to your time. Your memories fade slowly day by day, but new ones are made every second. 

Like now.

“Tanjiro.”

“Yes, love.”

He calls you love now, any chance he can get, and it makes your heart rend at times. You want to go home so badly, to see your family and loved ones, but he is your loved one now and you need him. 

You swallow thickly, then let your hand rest on your belly on top of his, leaning into his touch. You can afford this for now, in fact you should before you can no longer.

“Where do you think the previous incarnation of me is right now?” you ask. 

He muses for a moment, then replies. “Hopefully somewhere safe and warm.”

You smile. As you’d expect, a sweet, straightfoward answer from him. 

“Yeah, probably living a simple but fulfilling life on another continent. Maybe not even human, a particularly well-behaved goat or something.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your neck.

“I don’t think you’d be a goat, but if you were, I think you’d be the cutest goat.”

You’re warmed up again from the inside, but fight it off, turning to him so that you look him in the eyes. They shine, the flickered flames reflected in the irises. He doesn’t break his hold on you, only readjusting. Always readjusting to suit your flow, you practically hate how much he accommodates you. 

“There’s probably some karmic retribution for whatever’s going on here,” you murmur. You’re not sure you believe in reincarnation, but so many around you do, and if that were true, is there a you that exists in this world right now that will never know him? Is there a him in your own time that will never get to meet you if you stay?

If love is true, does it span time or does it rebel against it?

Despite this you let him tilt your head up and kiss you, while wrapping you in the warmth of a blanket you didn’t remember him bringing out. 

“What’s the punishment? For what crime?” he asks. The way he looks at you, he seems to pore into your soul, far too good to be human, far too good to be yours.

“I…” you trail off. Going from work assignments and weekend partying to slaying demons and losing everyone you know and the technology you’ve always taken for granted should be hell, but when you’re together like this, it feels more like a short-term purgatory with heaven in clear view, with the sweetest guardian spirit leading you there.

Your gaze lowers from his deep carnelian ones and you decide instead to let yourself rest against his chest.

“Never mind, I love you.”

You can feel his love for you swell. 

“I love you, too.”

You let yourself rest as the charcoal burns; he hums again, just slightly off-key but it’s music to your ears.