Nezuko Kamado | Demon Slayer - Fanart

The moonlight spilled through the tattered paper of the shoji screens, painting ethereal streaks across the tatami mats. Nezuko, no longer the tiny, frightened girl her brother had once carried, stood by the window, her silhouette a testament to her newfound, yet still fragile, maturity. Her demon form had receded, leaving her in a state of heightened sensory awareness, the faint scent of pine and damp earth a familiar comfort, yet tonight, it was a different aroma that captivated her: the subtle, musky scent of his skin, a scent that had become as vital to her as the blood she no longer craved.

Tanjiro, his breath catching in his throat, watched her from across the room. The flickering lantern cast dancing shadows that played across her delicate features, highlighting the curve of her cheekbone, the slight tilt of her head as she listened to the night. His heart, a battlefield of lingering fear and burgeoning desire, pounded a chaotic rhythm. He saw not a demon, but the woman she was becoming, a woman he had sworn to protect, and a woman who stirred within him a yearning he had only recently begun to understand, a yearning that transcended brotherly affection and blossomed into something far more potent, far more intoxicating.

He rose, his movements hesitant, each step a deliberate act of overcoming the ingrained barriers of their past. Nezuko turned, her large, expressive eyes, a vibrant magenta, meeting his. There was no fear in them, only a profound, unspoken understanding. The air between them crackled with an invisible energy, a silent acknowledgment of the path they were treading, a path paved with shared hardship and an burgeoning, forbidden intimacy. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against the silk of her kimono sleeve. The sensation sent a shiver through her, a wave of warmth that bloomed in her chest, spreading outwards like the dawn.

“Nezuko,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. The single word was a confession, a question, a plea. He saw the subtle tremor in her lips, the way her pupils dilated, a mirror of the intensity in his own gaze. This was no longer the playful teasing of their childhood, nor the desperate fight for survival. This was a hushed surrender to a force that had been building between them for years, a force nurtured in the quiet moments of shared solitude, in the stolen glances, in the unspoken comfort they found in each other’s presence.

Her hand, surprisingly cool against his skin, reached up to cup his cheek. The touch was feather-light, yet it ignited a fire within him, a primal spark that consumed his reservations. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing for a brief, precious moment, savoring the intimacy of it. When he opened them again, Nezuko’s gaze was fixed on his lips, a silent invitation. He didn't hesitate.

The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration, a testing of waters that had long been on the verge of overflowing. His lips met hers, a gentle pressure that deepened with each passing second. Nezuko responded with a soft sigh, her arms encircling his neck, drawing him closer. The sweetness of her breath mingled with his, a heady perfume that intoxicated him. He tasted the innocence of her past, the resilience of her present, and the wild, untamed passion that simmered beneath the surface. His tongue, emboldened, traced the seam of her lips, eliciting a soft gasp that was swallowed by the growing urgency of their embrace.

He deepened the kiss, his movements growing more confident, more demanding. Nezuko met his passion with an eagerness that surprised and thrilled him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, her body pressing against his, every curve and contour a revelation against his own. The silk of her kimono whispered as it shifted, a tantalizing glimpse of the warm skin beneath. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest, a frantic rhythm that mirrored his own.

His hands, trembling slightly, began to explore the delicate curve of her back, tracing the line of her spine through the thin fabric of her garment. Each touch was reverent, yet filled with a burgeoning desire. He felt the tremor that ran through her at his touch, the soft moans that escaped her lips, sounds that sent waves of pure ecstasy through him. He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room.

“Nezuko,” he breathed, the name a prayer. He could feel her trembling against him, her entire body alive with a passion that had been long suppressed. The air was thick with anticipation, a palpable tension that hummed between them, drawing them inexorably towards the precipice of their desires. He trailed kisses down her jawline, across the delicate curve of her throat, each touch a spark igniting a wildfire within her. She arched into his caress, her fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders.

He fumbled with the ties of her kimono, his fingers clumsy with eagerness. The silk parted, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin, bathed in the ethereal moonlight. Nezuko’s skin was like porcelain, delicate and flawless, and his breath hitched at the sight. He traced the line of her collarbone with his lips, tasting her essence, a scent so pure, so intoxicating, it drove him to the brink of madness. She shivered, a visible ripple of pleasure that he felt deep within his own core. Her eyes, wide and luminous, watched him with an intensity that spoke volumes, a silent affirmation of her own burning desire.

He continued to undress her slowly, reverently, each layer of silk peeled away revealing more of her exquisite form. Her breasts, full and ripe, seemed to glow in the moonlight. He cupped one in his hand, his thumb gently caressing the taut nipple. Nezuko let out a soft moan, her back arching further, her head thrown back in a silent plea. He lowered his head, his lips finding the dusky rosebud, his tongue teasing and caressing it until she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.

The intimacy of the act, the raw vulnerability of her response, fueled his own desire to an unbearable pitch. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the quickening of her pulse beneath his fingertips. He looked into her eyes, and saw a reflection of his own burning need, a shared longing that transcended all societal norms and familial bonds. This was a moment of pure, unadulterated connection, a testament to the profound love and desire that had simmered between them for so long.

He gently guided her down onto the soft futon, their bodies entwined. He shed his own clothes, his gaze lingering on her form, taking in every exquisite detail. The moonlight cast a sensual glow upon her, her skin shimmering like dew-kissed petals. He moved over her, their bodies inches apart, the air thick with the scent of arousal. He could feel the heat of her desire radiating towards him, a potent force that drew him in. He pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling once more, the unspoken promise of the night hanging heavy in the air.

“Nezuko,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and then he lowered himself onto her. The initial pressure was a delicate dance, a prelude to the full embrace. He felt her body yield to him, her hips rising to meet his thrusts, a silent invitation for him to take her completely. The friction of their skin against skin was electric, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through them both. He heard her soft gasps and moans, cries of ecstasy that spurred him on, pushing him to explore the depths of their shared pleasure.

He watched her face, her eyes closed, her lips parted as she surrendered to the sensations. The moonlight painted her in shades of silver and shadow, a vision of pure, unadulterated desire. He felt a primal urge to make her his, to mark her as his own, to fill her with his seed and bind them together in the most intimate of ways. He moved faster, harder, his body driven by a raw, animalistic need that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Nezuko cried out his name, her body arching violently as she reached the peak of her pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He felt her release, a tidal wave of sensation that washed over him, sending him spiraling into his own ecstasy. He felt his own climax approaching, a building pressure that was both agonizing and divine. He pushed deeper, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his entire being focused on the singular act of joining with her, of filling her with the culmination of his passion.

With a guttural cry, he climaxed, his seed surging into her, a hot, viscous flood that filled her to the brim. He felt her body clench around him, her pleasure mirroring his own, their bodies vibrating in unison. He collapsed onto her, their hearts pounding in unison, their breaths ragged and shared. The moonlight, now softer, cast a warm glow over their intertwined bodies, a silent testament to the passionate union they had just shared. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, a mix of moonlight and something uniquely Nezuko, a scent that now held the sweet tang of his own release.

He felt her hands, still trembling, stroke his back. She shifted slightly, her body still clinging to his, a perfect fit. The initial shock of their transgression had faded, replaced by a profound sense of peace, a deep, abiding love that had found its ultimate expression. He lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. Her eyes, usually so full of light and life, were now soft, languid, and filled with an emotion that mirrored his own. A slow, tender smile spread across her lips.

“Tanjiro,” she whispered, her voice a silken caress. The single word, spoken with such tenderness, was all the confirmation he needed. He felt a profound sense of belonging, of rightness. He had not corrupted her innocence, but awakened a passion that had always been there, waiting to be discovered. He kissed her again, a slow, lingering kiss that spoke of promises made and futures shared. The night was still young, and their journey together had just begun, a journey filled with the promise of more shared intimacy, more whispered confessions, and the enduring strength of their love, now sealed in the most primal and passionate of ways.

He pulled her closer, her head resting on his chest, his arm a protective embrace around her. The moonlight continued to stream in, casting a soft glow on their peaceful forms. Nezuko nestled against him, her breathing evening out, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin. The air was filled with a quiet contentment, a shared understanding that transcended words. He felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of fulfillment that settled deep within his soul. He had found not just a sister, but a lover, a partner, a soulmate. And as he held her close, listening to the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat against his, he knew, with an absolute certainty, that this was only the beginning of their exquisite, forbidden, and deeply cherished love story.