#Tomioka giyuu x you
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Demon!Giyuu who is experiencing heat for the first time but doesn’t know it yet. He just thinks he’s being more clingy than usual now that he can only see you once the sun is fully down
Demon!Giyuu who immediately pulls you into bed when you finally get home so he can cuddle you
Demon!Giyuu who nuzzles his face into the nape of your neck as his arms wrap tightly around you and keep you close to his body
Demon!Giyuu who suddenly feels so intoxicated by your scent. It’s never smelt this strong before and it’s making his head spin from how good it is
Demon!Giyuu who is now getting the urge to fill you up as much as possible. Something primal in him telling him that now is the perfect time to do so
Demon!Giyuu who ruts his hips into yours. He has been fucking you like an animal with the intent of breeding you
Demon!Giyuu who cums so many loads into you, finally knotting inside you. Breathing heavily as his body falls on top of yours. Keeping you pinned under his weight
Demon!Giyuu who takes hours to calm down and for his knot to swell down because it’s impossible for him to not love the feeling of you plugged up with his cum and whining how full you feel. Squirming under his weight which just adds more friction
#i cant sleep#so breeding kink with demon!Giyuu it is >:]#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyuu smut#tomioka giyuu x you#giyuu smut#giyuu x reader smut#kny smut
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Baby Blues
Giyū Tomioka x afab!Reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Ao3
Warning: mentions of pregnancy
Summary: You are pregnant and yet to tell your husband.
Your husband Tomioka Giyū had always been a stoic and reserved individual, a man who wore his heart on his sleeve but never dared to show it to anyone, anyone but you, that is. Behind his gorgeous blue eyes lay more sorrow than you could understand on some days, self-doubts you were always there to reassure him of were not true and a heart deserving of more love than he could ever imagine.
It was only natural that you did not want to cause your husband any more worry. You loved him dearly, after all, and only wanted what you thought was best for Giyū. With the two of you having gotten married some time ago, you thought that your husband had enough to worry about as is, but with a child on the way, his stress would only increase.
Right, a child. You had almost forgotten already. The reason why your own worries were gnawing at your nerves in the first place, tugging at your heartstrings as you mulled over the many different ways your situation could turn out.
You were pregnant and had yet to tell your husband.
In the romance novels you have read during your serene time alone, the part where the wife informed her husband of her pregnancy always seemed to happen so smoothly. The women in the novels always knew what to say, never stumbled over their words or emotions as they delivered the news. What followed were bellows of joy, many kisses and a celebration of the new life beginning, a new future starting.
When the characters written on the pages did it, it seemed so easy. But you weren’t a character on said pages, you were a woman living during times when your life could be cut short so quickly. There was no author writing your perfect little romance and happy ending, you had to fight for your own happy ending, for your own survival. Your fate was not planned out bit by bit, it was yet to be decided, and that scared you deeply.
How would Giyū react to the news?
You liked to think that you knew your husband very well, you wouldn’t have gotten married to him if you didn’t. The foundation to a healthy and successful marriage was trust, knowledge, and above all: love (or so you had been taught). And you also knew that your husband loved you very much, there was no doubt there that he did.
Giyū was not a man to proclaim his love in over-the-top ways by screaming it out to the world, by letting it be known by anyone and everyone. His love was quiet and reserved, just like he was. His kisses were gentle and soft, but filled with so much emotion as he pulled your body flush to his, heat rising to his pale cheeks.
You loved him as much as he loved you, and the other way around. And yet, you couldn’t predict his reaction. Would he be excited? Joyful? Or scared and fester his doubts in quiet, not daring to share them with you unless you begged him to do so, your own worries about him consuming you?
No matter how many sleepless nights you spent thinking about the possible outcomes, feeling his warm body pressed to yours, his strong arms pulling you close and holding onto you tightly, you still didn’t know which outcome was the most probable.
For the first time ever since the two of you got married, you felt like you didn’t know your husband. In your decision-making, you felt so … alone. You had been so used to making decisions alongside your dear husband, consulting him the same way he consulted you, that making such a tough decision was anything but easy for you.
And it didn’t help either that the front door swung open as you were sitting on the ebony rocking chair in the living room, too deep into your doubts and mindlessly pulling at the strings of the ruby-red scarf you wanted to fix. In the doorway stood Giyū, looking battered from his latest mission, as he took off his shoes and outside gear before greeting you.
As soon as he got a good look at you, however, he stopped completely. You seemed nervous and fidgety, not anything like the woman he had married. Around your fingers, the red thread wandered and Giyū watched with curiosity in his gaze as you pulled at the already ripped scarf more and more, pulling it apart at the seams.
Your behaviour was unlike you, Giyū thought, noting how you didn’t even greet him back, as you always did. One look at you was enough to determine that something was wrong.
“Did something happen, darling?”
Your head snapped up to look at him, obviously startled by his question. “Giyū- I-” You breathed in, doing your best at calming your racing heart. “No, no, everything is fine. I’m fine.”
His brows knit into a furrow. He stepped closer to you, his blue eyes raking over your body to check for any injuries. “Are you sure that everything is okay?”
He clearly knew you too well, because when you shook your head, Giyū did not show signs of surprise.
You couldn’t keep this a secret any longer, it wasn’t fair to you or Giyū. Worry shone in his eyes as he looked at you, the thing you so desperately tried to keep away from him.
So, you took a deep breath and said, “There’s something I have to tell you,” You could see his concern for you grow and his posture tense up, the man before you suck in a breath. His heart rate quickened as he anticipated your answer, a million possibilities running through his mind. With your voice barely above a whisper, you continued, “I’m pregnant.”
Your husband had always been a man of few words, but as he stood opposite you completely speechless, your worries only increased.
“Giyū?” Your voice came out as a cry, tears welling up in your eyes. Abruptly, you stood up from the chair, allowing the scarf to drop to your feet. “Say something, please!”
Giyū was stunned, his mouth hanging slightly open, but no words coming out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and for a short moment, he doubted that he had understood you correctly. Joy, excitement, fear and uncertainty flooded through him, he felt overwhelmed by the news, his brain circuiting as he processed what you just told him.
You’re pregnant. He’s going to be a father.
Tears welled in his eyes as he whispered, “Are you sure?”
You nodded, feeling tongue-tied. “Shinobu-san was kind enough to confirm it for me.”
He walked over to you and took you into his arms, carefully holding your body flush to his. “That’s wonderful, darling.”
A choked sob escaped your lips, your pent-up emotions releasing. All that worrying you had done had been for nothing. “Really?”
“Really.”
You took his face into your hands, softly cradling it. Your thumb moved across his cheek, caressing the skin and wiping the tears away that fell from his beautiful blue eyes. “Oh, Giyū …” Another sob wracked through you. “I love you so much.”
Giyū smiled at you. “I love you too, my darling,” His hand rested on your hips, holding you close. “And no matter what, I’m always going to be here for you, you hear me?”Neither of you could wait to start your new chapter as a family together.
#giyuu tomioka#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#giyuu x you#giyuu x y/n#giyuu tomioka x you#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x y/n#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyuu x you#tomioka giyuu x y/n
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Cherry Blossom Naps 🌸 Tomioka Giyū x Reader
Pairing: Tomioka Giyū x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used)
Genre: fluff
Word Count: 1 626
Summary: after a a night of fighting demons, you and Tomioka find shelter
Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist
Freezing cold rain dripped into your face, feeling like a thousand needles pricking your skin and blurring your vision. Your clothes were drenched, not just from the cold spring rain, but also sweat from the battle you had fought in the night. Now, through thick covers of rain heavy clouds, the sky began brightening, announcing the sunrise to not be long away.
"Over here!"
Your companion's voice carried over the drumming rain, and lifting your gaze, you found Tomioka heading straight to what looked like an abandoned shed. Well, less a shed than a roof held up by four wooden beams, but considering it was only raining and not storming, it should be enough for now. A sigh of relief brushed past your lips at the prospect of shelter, and quickly you hurried after the fellow demon slayer.
By the time you stepped underneath the roof, he had already thrown off his haori and crouched down beside an old fireplace in the middle of the area.
"The wood's dry," he mumbled, his voice filled with silent surprise. Indeed, the shelter seemed in surprisingly good shape. The roof wasn’t leaking and a stack of wood close to the fireplace seemed old but completely untouched by the weather.
Walking past the fireplace, you glanced out from underneath the roof at the other side. Before you opened a small garden, a stretch of grass, sprinkled with blooming cherry trees. Their blossoms seemed to glow in the twilight of the approaching morning, the rain glittering on their leaves like stars.
"What's wrong?" Tomioka had noticed you freezing at the edge of the small room, and alarmed, he quickly came up behind you, his hand already on the handle of his katana.
"It's beautiful," you breathed, momentarily even forgetting how cold you were.
Tomioka only hummed in agreement before turning back around, slightly annoyed to have been disturbed by such an unimportant thing as trees.
"Let's get a fire going," he mumbled instead, leaving you standing. You watched the rain tear at the petals another few moments before you pulled away from the sight and helped Tomioka with the fire.
It didn’t take you long to get the fire to a good size, not so big as that it would eat up unnecessarily big amounts of wood, but still big enough to warm you up and dry your haoris, which you had hung up on long sticks by the fire.
You had sat down a while ago, a safe distance away from Tomioka, your eyes fixed on the cherry trees in the rain, while you let your mind wander. It had not been the first time that you had been sent out on a mission with him, but somehow it felt as if your relationship was shifting with each time you met. It would have been a lie to claim you were not curious about the quiet Demon Slayer… although curious might be a strange word to use. Interested in him? Maybe… attracted even?
You shook your head slightly, watching as the pouring rain turned into a slight drizzle. It was foolish to think about him this way. Not only because he was a demon slayer and he faced death in the form of sharp demon teeth and long claws each night. Tomioka was one of the most skilled demon slayers you knew. You didn’t doubt he would survive for a long time. It was more because, well, because he was Tomioka. You had never met anyone else who was as quiet and grumpy as him. Holding conversations with him was hard since he hardly talked more than one or two sentences in one go. But the few times when he had, your conversations had stretched several hours, making you admire the young man even more than before. While his quietness caused other demon slayers to make fun of him and even mock him, you had been lucky to have gotten more insight into his character by now, understanding that inside he was angry and sad at and about the world. You wished you could help him, make him feel better somehow, but unless he let you in, which he hardly ever did, there was only so much you could do. And if he didn’t want to let you in, how was there ever to be a relationship other than that of work colleagues between you?
A tickling at the side of your face alarmed you to the fact that someone – Tomioka – was staring at you. Resisting the urge to turn to him, you kept your eyes focused on the trees. The clouds were still not finished with the downpour, although they had reduced it to a fine spray of morning rain, and a soft breeze had picked up, breaking them apart so the first beams of light could flicker through. It bounced off the rain drops on the pink petals of the cherry blossoms, looking like a thousand crystals glimmering in the light. You smiled at the sight, continuing to ignore Tomioka’s insistent staring. If each night fighting gruesome demons could end in a peaceful scenery like the one before you now… you certainly wouldn’t complain.
The fire flickered a little, and at your side Tomioka moved to grab his haori before he added more wood to the fire, making it lick up higher into the air as you continued watching the garden. The spray of rain continued, but the ground seemed to warm up, as soft white fog began lifting off the grass blades. It wasn’t hard to imagine a wood god, or a tree spirit to walk through the thin fog now, their paws glimmering with raindrops but still leaving no traces in the grass.
You startled as suddenly something touched your shoulder. Irritated you looked up to find Tomioka had grabbed your sleeve softly between his thumb and index finger. When your eyes met his ocean blue ones, he gently tucked at the fabric, making you furrow your brows. It was careful motion, as he tucked again, no force put into it, rather an invitation. Following it, you scooted a little closer to him, and closer again, when he kept tucking, until you were sitting side by side with him, close enough for your legs to touch.
Wordlessly he wrapped his haori first over your shoulders, then over his, the fabric barely big enough for both of you to fit. It had already dried next to the fire and only when you had sat for a few minutes, uncertain what to make of that sudden display of intimacy, you realized how cold you had gotten from the rain, and how nice the haori warmed you. But what was even warmer than the Haori, was Tomioka by your side. He felt almost like a living furnace as he sat still, almost stiffly by your side. You wanted to look over to him, wanted to see his expression, but something stopped you. Instead, you looked out over the garden again, trying to commit the sight of the beautiful blooming trees to your memory.
You were not sure when it had happened, but you startled when you felt your head lull to the side. Had you dozed off? Taking a deep breath, you were trying to sit up straight again, when suddenly Tomioka reached his hand up, gently guiding your head to rest against his shoulder, where you almost would have rested it before waking up again.
“You need to rest,” he whispered, his voice sounding deep and soothing from where it rumbled in his chest. “Sleep a little.”
You let him pull your head against his shoulder, feeling the stubborn hair of his tickle your face, which refused to be bound back by his hairband. Reaching up you brushed it aside enough to not be disturbed by it anymore before closing your eyes again. You had always struggled falling asleep in the company of other slayers, but something about Tomioka made it almost too easy to doze off. Maybe because you trusted him. You had almost fallen asleep again when a sudden thought stirred you back awake.
“Tomioka?”
He hummed to signal you that he was listening.
“Why are you doing this?”
He was quiet for a moment, hesitating to answer as if he were scared to get reprimanded, but then he said: “Because I’m not good with words. And I don’t know how else to show I care about you.”
Not opening your eyes, you furrowed your brows. “Why would you care about me?”
“’cause I like you. I hope that’s okay.”
His words didn’t fully process in your sleepy mind. Or maybe they did, they just didn’t trigger the same excited reaction they would have triggered had you been fully awake.
“Hm,” you hummed in response, “I like you too.”
And before Giyū could sort his thoughts out to answer to that sudden confession, your breaths were evening out and you had fallen asleep.
Giyū carefully turned his head, stealing a glance at your face and tucked his haori in place over your shoulders before he carefully rested his cheek against your hair. So you liked him too, huh? It felt like this was the first good news in a long time. It also meant you’d have to talk about this in more detail as soon as both of you were awake enough to do so. Maybe he’d finally find a way to convey his feelings to you then, like he had wanted to do for so long already. Giyū suppressed a yawn, and smiled to himself, taking a last glance at the cherry blossoms in the garden before he too closed his eyes and fell asleep to the feeling of you safely resting on his shoulder.
#sakura festival#tomioka giyū x reader#tomioka giyū x you#giyū tomioka x reader#giyū tomioka x you#tomioka x reader#tomioka x you#giyū x reader#giyū x you#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyuu x you#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x you#giyuu x reader#giyuu x you#tomioka giyu x reader#tomioka giyu x you#giyu tomioka x reader#giyu tomioka x you#giyu x reader#giyu x you#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer fanfiction#ds x reader#ds x you#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x you#kimetsu no yaiba fanfiction
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. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Your wedding is a beautiful event.
Everything is arranged just so. Although it’s a small affair, only your own family joining you, it’s a grand event. You suppose that if your father has the money to spend he can do as he pleases. You don’t feel like you’re being held prisoner, or forced, but there isn’t much you have a say in about all of this.
You decide on smaller things. Carefully selecting the flowers that line the ceremony room. The scent of incense floats through the air. Natural, slightly muskier smells complement the florals. The candlelight bathes the room in softer yellow shades. It does little to battle the cold outside, though your heavy layers of cloth do well to warm your skin.
The robe, and accompanying headdress, are made from piles and piles of silk. They are hand-painted with soft pink camellias, outlined with a subtle silver. The pale colors melt perfectly into the rest of the white fabric. Your tsunokakushi accompanies it, made in the same expensive silk. The white stays perfect and pure, though fresh flowers are helping to accent it. The uniform weighs you down and helps to keep you from squirming. Nerves would get to anyone on a day like this.
Your husband is beautiful as everything else.
His raven hair is combed back, bangs brushed out from his face. The color blends in perfectly with the dark kimono. All the black points your focus towards his pale face and crystal blue eyes. They stare forward at the priest and paintings behind the altar.
He is a complete stranger to you.
Though you’ve only met the man once there’s a strange lack of apprehension. The first meeting didn’t even count, not really. It was negotiations and talks of money while you bowed timidly in the corner.
Despite the lack of any sort of acknowledgment you have some admiration for him. Silent and solitary he carries a sense of dignity. Knowing his occupation only makes your heart grows fonder.
The first time you touch him is as you exchange saki cups. His fingers barely brush against yours as the cups get passed over. The tiny touch sends electricity racing up your arm. Eyes softly evade your own piercing look.
Warmth makes its way down your throat with each sip. The alcohol isn’t enough to do anything more than heat your blood, but it’s a welcome feeling. Glancing over at Tomioka you admire his reddened cheeks. The thought of his lips touching the same cup that yours now linger on is embarrassing.
You wonder if the same feelings pass through the man as you drink from the second cup first.
Once more the cycle goes around. Giyuu drinks from the cup, his fingers brush yours, and you linger on the taste of his lips.
As each cup is whisked away you grow more and more nervous. The ceremony rushes by before your eyes. On the table, alongside other offerings, lie your wedding rings. They’re simple woven bands, a subtle golden white.
Giyuu’s mouth opens to recite his vows. His flat and quiet voice is soothing. The words disappear in your mind the moment they’re spoken. You don’t mind that the vows are simple and standard, inspired instead by the music of his tone. He never hesitates as he speaks the pages of words all tucked inside his mind.
The rest of the ceremony holds the same kind of quiet reverence.
Everyone performs their duty exactly as instructed. It passes by quickly without you even noticing. Offerings are brought forward, rings are exchanged. Your head is filled with rushing blood. As you’re shuffled the world around you warps and rushes.
Within a few moments, you have become a married woman.
A thin band sits on your finger. You can hardly remember the hand sliding the ring onto yours. The feeling grows until it nearly bursts your heart open. It’s a combination of joy and apprehension and a million other things that race through your mind.
There is not a single moment for you to rest. Even though there is no celebration afterward, you don’t get time to focus on anything that’s happening. Once you have completed all pieces of tradition, sent offers, and exchanged every bit of your life, you are whisked away to change. The excitement of all the women around leaves no room for a proper conversation. The dress you’re pulled into is simple, less intricate though just as elegant. It’s a softer blue, a strange combination of modern and traditional styles. Finally, you have graduated to shorter sleeves that don’t weigh down your arms quite as much.
Your hair is still done up in an awful complicated mess. Pins don’t quite stab your skull, but they come close. Later tonight you’ll have to spend hours undoing every decoration on your head and skin.
There is little to keep you distracted now. The tender hands of your mother and sisters continue to run over the fabric of your dress. It stands a few inches above the floor, unlike your wedding kimono which had to be carried. There is little they can do now too.
Outside the engine of a car roars to life. Your father should have loaded most of your luggage by now. Most of it is frivolous material possessions, clothes, trinkets, and anything else deemed important enough to carry into your next life.
Your husband is already seated. He does not glance at you as you exit your home.
The goodbyes are short. Your family already spent much of last night saying everything that could be said. There’s little to do now except hug and be sent off.
You climb into the seat beside Tomioka. He does not greet you. Hesitance floods through you for a moment, but in the end, you make no effort either. His silence is unsurprising.
In fact, the ride home is silent, as equally expected. A thousand questions are racing through your mind. Despite the excitement buzzing underneath your skin your lips stay sealed shut.
Holding your hands in your lap you force yourself to gaze out the window. It’s not your first time inside an automobile, but you find it fascinating how fast the scenery moves by.
Tomioka does not hold the same kind of interest. His eyes burn holes into the headrest in front of him. The stiffness he sits with is nearly funny. The man’s spine is perfectly straight, hands folded in front of him. If he notices your eyes occasionally flicker over to trace his face, he doesn’t say anything about it.
The driver in the front remains quiet too. He’s some friend of a friend of your father’s. Which makes him a complete stranger to you. You’re still glad for the company. You haven’t been alone with a man, only boys when you were small enough to not understand the importance of anything.
It occurs to you that you’ll have to get used to it. There’s a myriad of new experiences that you’ll face within such a short period of time. You don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.
—-
The car ride passes much too quickly. Although Tomioka’s estate is a good ways away from your smaller town, the car travels over the terrain with ease. Even as you pass through rural areas and up the large winding path to his home the machine never stutters in its ascent.
Just before you disappear into the small grove of trees, you pass a small town. Several of the residents look up into the car as you go by. One small child waves to you. Though you can’t particularly focus on anything, you try to map out the businesses and homes you see. Within the blink of an eye, you’re carried into the forest, eyes shielded from the town.
The last stretch of the journey is as grand as the house itself. A long pathway leads up to the gate, lined with stones and tall skinny trees. As you grow closer the flora only grows more spectacular. Bamboo begins to rise to accompany the rest of the scenery. It shoots up and stretches backward until you can’t see where it ends.
The gate hangs open, showing off a glimpse of the estate. It’s several floors tall, balconies coming off the side. The building leads perfectly into the stone garden, intertwined with a small river. Everything is grand and perfectly groomed. It looks like something out of a photograph rather than somewhere a human could live.
The car stops just beyond the front door. You remain immobile even as the engine shuts off. Without the rumbling of the automobile, it is completely silent. It’s engulfing. Every rustle of your clothes and shift against the seats is loud.
“I can take your bags inside.” It’s the first thing Giyuu has said to you, directly to you, all day.
Your lips grow suddenly dry. No response can be mustered other than a quick nod of your head. Internally you curse yourself.
Leaping down from the car you feel the stones move beneath your feet. With only a small second of delay, you make your way to the entrance.
The door would slide open easily. Your hands rest against the thick wood. Looking back Giyuu is still unloading your luggage from the trunk. Despite the size and volume of the bags, he manages to balance everything within his arms. Hoping to be at least somewhat helpful you decide to slide the door open.
Holding yourself off to the side you let the man pass you. His eyes still don’t stray even close to your face. Looking straight ahead he slows his pace slightly, just until you perk up and follow behind him.
Giyuu is still dressed in the dark and elegant groom’s kimono. The wide legs and arms obscure his true figure. You had seen a glimpse of it during your first meeting, less hidden underneath the form-fitting demon slayer’s uniform. His broad shoulders stretched the sleeves of the shirt, visible even below his unique haori.
Suddenly it occurs to you what most couples do on their wedding night. Almost dizzy you brush the thought from your mind. The idea of his muscular body is as enticing as it is terrifying. Those kinds of ideas should be saved for when you’re absolutely alone and can’t be caught in your shame.
Tomioka opens the door to (presumably) your bedroom with such force that you nearly scamper backward. If he was surprised by the clanging of the door he shows no visible reaction.
Looking around the space it’s… empty.
There’s a bed in the corner, covered in plain gray sheets. It’s accompanied by an equally boring nightstand and matching dresser made from dark wood. They’re perfectly square with perfectly round handles.
Everything is completely devoid of personality. You had noticed the blank hallways only accented with an occasional floral arrangement but assumed such a personal place would not carry the same stale feeling. This looks like the kind of place only a psychopath could live.
“This’ll be your room. It’s rather empty now, but you’re free to do what you’d like with the space.”
Again you can only nod.
He only stays for a mere moment to stack your luggage neatly in the corner. Without a word of goodbye, he disappears around the corner. The man only acknowledges you with a dip of his head. You have the feeling that this time you aren’t meant to follow him. You close the door slowly, silently, as he makes his exit.
Down the hallway, you hear another door open and shut. It feels like the period at the end of a sentence. The action effectively marks the end of your wedding day. The large window in the center of his room shows you the dark moon rising.
Though the thick layers of makeup on your face feel like they're melting and the kimono you wear is slightly too tight, you make no action to undo anything. You move carefully, making your way to the bed instead.
It’s almost frigid when you sit on it. The mattress is stiff beneath you, a clear lack of use. There’s a nightstand to your right. The drawers you check are all empty. When you move off the bed, it’s chill clinging to you, you check the dresser drawers as well. Those are empty too, it’s clear the place has not belonged to anyone else.
Following the outline of the your bedroom you find nothing other than plain white walls and dark trim. There’s a door that connects to a bathroom. In theory, it’s as grand as your bedroom, in the fact that it’s wide and spacious. The tub is large enough for a few people, sunken into the floor, and surrounded by stone. Snooping around the cabinets you find basic amenities and not much else.
As you fiddle with the faucet it sputters before spewing forth scalding water. You’re hand turns an angry red for a minute until the temperature shifts to something bearable. Watching water cover the pebbled bottom you sigh and turn back to your room.
Opening your luggage you sort through the piles of clothes until you find a soft cotton robe. You unbutton your dress slowly. In some way, you wish you could’ve been putting on a show for someone. Underneath your kimono, you wear a sinful chiffon slip. It’s hidden below several other layers of fabric, that you slowly reveal with no one to see.
The light pink fabric casts a light shadow over your breasts. Along the edges, it’s patterned with frills and ribbons. The slip was one last gift from your mother, opened only in the privacy of your own room. Stripped down almost bare you can feel the air tickle your skin.
Making your way back to the bathroom you remain in the gentle slip. As water crashes down to continually fill the tub, steam rises to warm your chilly skin. Though the small set is beautiful, it does little to keep heat in.
The only other article of clothing remaining is your thin socks. Slipping them off you test the water again, perfectly heated. Soon after the translucent slip disappears too. You’ll banish it to the back of your drawers soon after, no reason to try it on again.
Sinking into the tub you rub at your face first. White and red and pink mix with the water. As heat and steam engulf you, you keep rubbing until your skin feels raw. You pull pins from your hair after you’ve effectively taken off a few layers of skin from your face. They scrape over the fragile top of your head, hair coming undone in tendrils. There’s an awful throbbing behind your temples, blood rushing to the tender spots on your scalp. You can hardly touch the area without wincing in pain. It’s hard to decide whether putting on the ensemble or taking it off was more painful.
You soak until the water is barely warm and your fingers are wrinkled. The soft floral scents of whatever soap was under the cabinet have soothed you somewhat. Tears, from physical pain or emotional, have fed the bath and let its line grow up to your chin. It weighs down heavily on your chest until you push yourself out from the water and take a clean breath.
The shock of cool air is awful on your way out. It strips you of everything again, shivering as you stalk back to your luggage.
You pull on a heavier robe, something to protect your wet and naked body It’s mostly plain, only accented with patterned edges. You had a softer and prettier one right on top of everything. Seeing as you’ll be bedding alone tonight you choose what’s more comfortable. You haven’t heard a single noise from anyone since you were essentially dumped into your room.
The bed is still cold. It’s a Western-style frame, lifted up from the ground and leaving you aloft. Springs seem to pierce into you from below.
As you drag yourself into bed alone you finally feel something familiar. It creeps in during the quiet night when everything is perfectly still. You’re not quite alert, but nowhere near sleep either. No matter how much you try, your eyes can’t close. They stare across the bed towards the wall, an empty side waiting to be filled.
Lying on your side it squeezes wetness from your eye. It’s not tears, but feeling the water trace your cheeks, inspires real sadness in their wake. Stubborn, you refuse to curl up into the sorrow. With a stone face, you let the pillow soak up the tears. They haven’t dried by the time you finally fall asleep.
—-
In the morning you feel no grogginess. There are no clocks within the room, but the outside window tells you that it’s later in the day. You move quicker than last night, putting on a much simpler kimono, barely messing with your hair. You still bother with makeup, making sure you look at least somewhat proper.
It’s quiet as you peer out into the hallway. With no lights on it’s painted in a dusty blue hue. There’s only a sliver of light coming from the window, which fails to illuminate the edges of the walls. There’s a light switch towards the end of the wall, which you creep out to flip on.
The hum of electricity sparks to life a row of lights. They produce a warm golden glow that inspires you to wake up further. Looking down the hall you assume one of the doors towards the end belongs to Tomioka’s room. All the spaces look the same.
Turning away you trace your way back through the route Giyuu had taken you down the way before. As you walk nearly silently you keep your ears out for the sound of another human.
Yesterday’s tour, if it could be called that, only covered the most basic of rooms. Dragging your hand against the wall you trace your way to the kitchen.
Going through the cabinets you find a pitiful amount of food. It’s mostly dried materials, beans, and rice, alongside a few fresh vegetables that already look slightly wilted. The sight isn’t completely unappetizing on its own, but coupled with the empty feeling in your stomach you wish you had something already done. You start some oats right away and chew some dry carrots in the meantime. They do nothing to fill you.
Almost immediately you’re already visualizing a list of things to buy. More veggies, fresh fruit, and probably a treat or two to try and satisfy your insatiable sweet tooth. Thinking about food only serves to make you hungrier, for now, you try and distract yourself with thoughts of anything else.
Listening quietly you hear nothing besides the sizzling of the porridge. There’s no creaking of wood down the hall. As hard as you try you can’t sense the presence of any other person. The idea that Giyuu has already left the house seems unlikely, but it also seems that you don’t know much about his habits at all.
Still, the silence remains throughout breakfast. The porridge is bland despite the brown sugar and cinnamon you’ve mixed in. Fresh fruit is definitely at the top of your list. The paste moves down your throat at a slow pace.
You barely finish a few bites of the meal before brushing it off to the side. Your stomach is still empty, but you can’t bring yourself to eat anymore. Though you should force yourself to eat more, something substantial, you can barely push the food around in the bowl.
Instead, you stumble around the house trying to find anything. Each room is blank and empty, and that’s without even traveling upstairs. It’s not anything different than what you saw yesterday, white walls and dark wood and nothing else.
You don’t bother with looking around more, expecting to find most of the same. Instead, you wander back toward the direction of your room. There’s not much waiting for you there, but you can at least busy yourself with unpacking.
You find a note stuck to the door when you make your way toward it. If it was there before you must’ve missed it.
‘Gone on a mission, will be back.’
And you suppose that’s that.
—-
He’s gone for long stretches of time. Though nothing is ever explained to you, some things become clear through observation. A paycheck comes every few days, you assume whenever he’s finished slaying whatever creature he’s been sent after. Tomioka arrives home only once a month at most, usually after long stretches of silence. If you’re lucky his crow will be sent ahead to announce his presence.
The bird ends up being a better companion than his owner in many ways. The crow, Kanzaburou, is old. He’s senile in the way an old man is, sweet and a bit air-headed. In many ways, he has more personality than your husband.
None of that changes the fact that you spend most days alone. Every single one since the first seem both eternal and yet much too quick. With little to keep you busy once things are put into place, you feel as if you’re going insane. Cleaning only takes up so much time, and there is little you can dirty on your own. The two or so dishes you use in a day take a week to fill up the sink. There’s no point in changing, not most days, but even then your laundry doesn’t fill up often. Sometimes you purposefully spill something just to have an actual purpose to your scrubbing.
Nothing changes when Giyuu comes home, not the first time or second or third. He hides inside his room. The only sign he even exists is the food that disappears from the freezer and cabinets. You always make extra meals, things with real substance, and those disappear too. Whether he actually enjoys your cooking is a complete mystery.
At first, you try to remain in common areas, with the small hope that he’ll stumble across you. You save most of your cleaning for the time he is home, simply for appearing useful. Standing outside to hang up sheets or sitting in the living room to rearrange the florals could entice him out.
Within the first few months, you give up.
If Giyuu does ever stumble upon you he’s quick to mumble an excuse and exit. Every time you feel scorned and scolded, despite the man’s gentle nature. You resign to hiding within your room. Despite your attempts to bring some color into the area it still feels rather depressing in there.
For a long time, you coexist in that quiet sort of way. You hate it more than if he just admitted to despising you, or didn’t come home at all. It’s the barest hope that something will change, keeping you strung along and nearly begging that he’ll even talk to you one day.
Not even the small town can comfort your lonely soul. Most of the typical shop owners and citizens seem wary of your presence. They conduct business and make small talk, but do almost nothing else. Your shyness engulfs you before you can even consider reaching out for company.
The weeks pass in a bit of a blur. The only contact you get is from Giyuu’s crow. He comes unpredictably, and yet somehow remains a single constant within your life besides the loneliness. You look forward to the sound of his slightly too screechy calls more than you do the paycheck he brings.
Most of the money stays put anyways. It’s more than you could ever know what to do with. Even after spending an extravagant amount, you have piles of it left. The things you do spend it on go towards brightening up your home. Collecting anything that captures your eye has become a common practice. Tapestries and paintings and all kinds of knickknacks cover the walls of your home. You buy things in bright colors to contrast the pale walls and dark ceilings. Your room is the worst case of this, crammed completely full of anything remotely beautiful.
If Tomioka dislikes the changes he again says nothing. If you hadn’t heard him speak wedding vows you’d be convinced the man was mute. Almost nothing else gives away his emotions either. No longer above spying, you try to peek and see any sort of twitch in his features. On occasion, he’ll pause his trek down the hallway and gaze at a new addition to the area. Despite this, you can’t tell if his blank eyes express any kind of adoration or distaste.
Your mental state is much more apparent. Tears become a common companion. They creep up suddenly when you’re cooking or leaving the town or just trying to sleep. It’s annoying more than anything. You’re already painfully aware of the fact that you’re not particularly happy. A reminder does nothing for you.
It gets worse when Giyuu is home. You can’t help the way your sobs increase in volume when his shadow moves over your door. Sometimes you swear he lingers there.
After that, you try to rebel, or at least do something interesting enough to spice up your days. Sometimes you’ll buy hideous decor, clashing curtains that sit in the living room, or twisted vases. You even start venturing into Giyuu’s room.
It’s the one place you haven’t entered. As you push the door open you’re surprised by how crowded the room is. The walls are still relatively blank, but they don’t feel empty. There’s a desk in the corner, it’s covered in papers that you at least have the sense to let be. On the opposite side of the room sits a bookshelf, though the stories that lie in there seem almost random. There’s an assortment of genres, action and romance and tragedies, and an assortment of styles. There are a few books even written in English, alongside one in what you think is Mandarin, though that one looks untouched. Occasionally you’ll steal one for a night or two. Most of the stories are in good condition. When you stumble across a dog-eared page or wrinkled edge you’re pleased by the touch of humanity. Still, when you tear through each book you’re left much in the same position by the end.
His closet is full of mostly extra uniforms. There are a few casual clothes, mostly in dark blues. He seems partial to the color, though the haori he wears constantly is a shocking red. In the corner, his groom's outfit has been carefully folded and stored. You suppose there’s no reason he’d need to hang it, having fulfilled its use.
There’s not much else there. Tomioka uses a futon, that sits folded up in the corner. Your room came with a Western-style bed, and you don’t care enough to push it out somewhere and replace it. His is a simple black, with no pattern other than the small grid made from the stitches.
One night you sleep on it. The mattress in your room is slightly too soft, you prefer the firm feel of sleeping over tatami flooring. With your face surrounded by fabric, you catch the scent woven within it. It’s musky and a little salty but in a pleasant way. The smell is outdoorsy, not dirty, but rather a natural tone. Underneath all of that is the scent of wisteria. All of it wound together is rather pleasant. You feel slightly less alone, being surrounded by the warm fabric that’s different enough to be new without sacrificing the comfort of its familiarity.
It becomes a habit.
You creep into his room once a week or so to cuddle in the space. Often you enter with some excuse, to dust his shelves or pick out a new book or leave any trace of your presence. Shambling around for a bit and doing much of nothing you wait until the sun rests on the horizon.
Once you notice, you pull out the futon. It doesn’t carry the same scent the third or fourth time you tuck into the sheets, but it’s still warmer than your bed. You stick your face into the pillows to try and let the smell linger.
You’re terrified of him coming home to you sleeping in that bed. It’s not the thought of him getting angry, but the embarrassment of it all. You feel like a child sneaking into her mother’s room rather than a proper wife. The feeling is mostly constant, only ebbing away as you sleep.
—-
You’re surprised that life can be this stagnant. Wallowing in your sorrow doesn’t do much other than dig a deeper hole.
There is some quiet joy to be found. Beyond the house, there are calm gardens. When the sun is out and the wind isn’t strong you find more comfort outside than trapped within the walls.
Living so far away from everything has one advantage. Not only do you have acres of sprawling forest to explore, but it tends to attract all kinds of wildlife. The chatter of birds sounds human enough to keep you company. If you’re lucky they’ll come so close you can feel the beat of their wings.
As the weather slowly gets warmer your mood lifts as well. You turn your thoughts away from your husband's absence, the loneliness slowly easing its touch on you. There are still sudden pangs of regret when you get a coin bag with no letter, or the sound of his footsteps passing you, but the days without him aren’t so unbearable.
The habit of you sleeping in his bed isn’t broken, if anything you start to spend nearly every night there. There’s a certain pattern to when he comes home, usually a week or so after his crow gifts you his paycheck. It’s a gamble if he’ll return or simply be set off on another mission, but either way, you learn to hide away in your own room.
You’re careful to leave his room mostly alone. Though you dust the few shelves and scrub the floors you strive to make your presence there unnoticed. It appears to be working, but again you’re mostly left in the dark about his thoughts.
The town remains just as wary, though more used to your presence. A few of the shopkeepers who you visit often enough smile as you sort through the wares.
Routine builds a softer kind of comfort, one that doesn’t brush away any of the other sorrows, but mutes the noise of them somewhat.
—-
And just as you settle an abrupt change knocks you off your feet. Tomioka coming home isn’t a particularly new development. You’re in the middle of preparing dinner, barely looking over as he passes by the doorway. You don’t even move until he’s out of sight, moving to peek at his back beyond the door.
As you approach you notice the spattering of blood sinking into the tatami. Looking upwards you notice his shamble of a walk. His uniform is missing a sleeve, arm wrapped sloppily with bandages. Blood has soaked through as it's slipping down his hand, leaving a trail behind.
If he hears your loud gasp he doesn’t signify it in any way. Instead, the man wanders towards his room while you retreat back into the kitchen. You stare at the pot of curry sizzling over the stove. You can’t focus on the food, although the smell of it is incredibly enticing. With shaky hands you attempt to stir the meal, even raising a spoon to taste it. You hope the spice will entice you more and attract your attention, but the combination of meat and curry powder is a beautiful deep red color that looks a little too much like blood.
Eventually, you have to force yourself away, your stomach twisting in knots. Still striving to be useful, even after months of being ignored, you instead fill a bowl with cold water and grab some washcloths. You move far too slowly, held back by hesitance. There’s a clear line of red that points you toward his room. It pulls you forward slowly. In the back of your mind, you mourn the freshly cleaned flooring.
Without knocking, slight fear in the response you’ll get, you nudge the door to the side. Barely peeking through you spot him laying in the corner of the room. He hasn’t unfolded the futon, rather leaning against the block of fabric.
As you move in slowly his eyes flicker toward you. Even from his far position in the corner, you can hear his labored breathing. Holding back a whimper at the sight of blood you approach the man more like you would a wounded animal.
Absolute silence engulfs the room, even as you sit beside him. You’re worried that you won’t be able to speak at all, throat sealed shut from misuse. Words bubble up until they finally loosen the cement keeping your lips closed.
“Can I help?”
The words are deviously simple, quiet, and barely audible. Despite the dry whisper that struggles out from out, the noise seems to take over everything else. The only other thing you hear is your heartbeat within your ears.
Giyuu seems to consider your question earnestly. As he shifts you can see the way his brows knit together, drawing closer whenever his arms shifts. “I admit that bandaging the wound was much more difficult with only one hand.” It’s not exactly a direct answer, but the way his body relaxes slightly seems to indicate a yes.
You still move a little too slowly. Watching the ground you’re careful to not let the water spill, while also trying to stop yourself from staring too hard at the crimson staining. Your sleeves are already pulled back, hands dipping into the bowl of water to grab the towel within it.
The warmth calms your nerves only slightly. It emboldens you to find the edge of the bandages and unwind. You’re surprisingly unbothered by the sight underneath, a mass of blood and flesh that is mostly unrecognizable.
The wounds are long stripes that wind down his arm. They don’t seem to be particularly deep, or even wide, but there’s a myriad of them stretching down the limb. Some of the smallest ones have already clotted. The largest are still spewing out red.
“You should get stitches for these.” It’s amazing that he even walked home in this condition. You’re not very aware of the inner workings of the demon slayer corps. Some knowledge was granted to you by your father, other things overheard in conversation. At the very least you know that they are prepared to treat injuries.
Despite your light chastisement (which receives no response) you still pull the soft cloth from the water. Fresh blood oozes out as you rub away the dirt and slightly crusted scabs. The sight gets worse to look at when it’s not hidden behind gauze.
There’s absolute silence taking over again. You’re too nervous to look up and possibly meet his eyes, instead focusing solely on his arm. Though you’re no professional you manage to wipe off most of the blood. It’s slowed down to a weak dribble, that stops when you put a slight amount of pressure on it.
You’ve piled the old bandages off to the side. They don’t look very old, but considering the state they’re in, you’re not very inclined to reuse them.
“There’s more in the bathroom.” Tomioka gestures off to the side. “2nd cabinet below the sink.”
You trot off with your head low. It's tempting to snoop, already having indulged in the bad habit plenty. Brushing the thought away, you dig through the medical supplies until you can find the roll of bandage.
He hasn’t moved a single inch in the quick minutes you’ve been gone. Tomioka’s eyes again look anywhere that isn’t where you are. Even as you hold his arm and feel the warmth of blood rushing through it, he acts more like a doll than anything.
You work slowly. Though you don’t have much experience, wrapping the gauze around his arm isn’t too difficult. At the very least it’s leagues better than the sloppy job he did himself.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Internally you’re begging for a reason to linger. His skin is still hot against your fingers. The pale skin is deceptive, giving him a cool appearance. Your eyes are tracing his hands, imagining them pressed against your own.
As your sight flickers towards his other side, you notice the fabric balled up in his fist. It’s the two-toned haori you normally see the man wearing. You hadn’t noticed its absence earlier.
He still hasn’t answered. You dare to prompt him a second time. “Or I could clean that for you.” You’re surprised that the man chooses this moment to look directly at you. For once you can read the emotion on his face, see the surprise in his blue eyes.
“It’s fine.” His voice sounds a little dry. “I’m sure the fabric is ruined.”
It’s easy to keep talking, now that you’ve dared to open your lips. “Oh, I’m sure I can fix it! If it’s blood you’re worried about then that’s no problem.” The tone you chose is perhaps too cheerful, but you feel a bit excited and the prospect of being truly helpful.
Tomioka’s fist loosens slightly. “I’m sure it’ll be a struggle, but there’s not much that could make it worst at least.” He’s not very encouraging, which you try to not let dampen your mood.
As you pull it from his grasp you can already tell the fabric is in tatters. The soft maroon sleeve has turned into strings of fabric dyed burgundy from blood. Some parts are crusted together, other pieces are barely attached by a thread. You certainly have your work cut out for you.
With one last smile, you carefully fold the haori and leave his room.
—-
You still can’t tell if you like the change or not. Tomioka still seems set on seeing you as little as possible. You bring him dinner and on occasion rewrap his bandages, but other than that he likes to hole up in his room.
His haori keeps you busy most of the time. It takes 3 washes just to get the blood out, carefully peeling the red free from the thin threads. As you wash you ultimately decide to chop off some of the strings that barely cling on. Anything thinner than the width of your finger gets discarded, a pile to find its place somewhere else.
Weaving the salvageable pieces back together is a near-impossible task. Trying your best to make the seams invisible you carefully line up each thread. Staring so intensely at the woven pattern makes your eyes water. It’s hard work to make sure the needle punctures exactly where it needs to so the flow remains. Several times you puncture the skin on your fingers. It’s never deep enough to pull blood out, but it turns your skin a bright throbbing red.
Even with the careful work only about a fourth of the sleeve can be salvaged. It’s a pitiful sight, strings hanging from the short shoulder. Days of work and sore thumbs have amounted to only a few inches of fabric.
You try to color-match the piece so you can fix the rest. It’s a difficult color, softened with years of use and age. Even when you bring the hoari along with you all the colors you find are too bright.
It’s twice as expensive to get something custom dyed, but you don’t have the expertise to do it yourself. You certainly have the money for it, coins and bills shoved away in the back of your drawers. Though the order adds a few weeks to your small project, you can’t settle for anything less than perfect.
Tomioka says nothing about the piece. He spots you once scrubbing away the blood outside. At that moment he stays for a few short seconds, watching your hands work. They’re dry from the rough cleaning chemicals and wrinkled from the soapy water.
—-
Just as your hands stop twitching and aching the replacement fabric arrives. Tomioka leaves sometime while you’re waiting for the package. The briefest contact keeps your heart light, even as the solitude creeps back in. There’s an actual purpose to your actions now, something to take up hours of your time.
The few short yards of burgundy fabric that arrive are still slightly too bright. It’s the shine of new cloth that differentiates it from the well-worn pieces. Regardless you go through the same tedious act of lining up the woven fabric and sewing it together.
There’s a thin line that marks the transition. Once you step a few feet away it’s harder to mark where the difference begins. The work is good, but you can only scrutinize it with the patterns burned into your eyes.
Several mistakes are clear over the rest of the fabric. They’re not your own doing, more likely Giyuu’s attempts to fix earlier tears. It’s cute to see the fumbles stitches, done in a hideous dark black. In most places, it stands out clearly from the pattern, even more so with the blank side.
You decide to fix those pieces, using a gentle green or maroon when appropriate. Though the seam holding the two pieces together makes you cringe, you don’t touch the threads. It’s uneven, both in length of the stitches and space between them. The other “fixes” were clumsy too, but the lines here seem childish almost. You’re sure that the pieces of Giyuu’s haori were bound together by the man himself.
As tempting as it is to make the piece look brand new, there’s history in its torn edges and paling fabric. You wonder if he’d tell you the story behind it.
Probably not.
—-
You haven’t entered Tomioka’s room in quite some time. After he was home for a few short weeks you grew too embarrassed about the actions. In your arms, you carry his carefully folded haori. After giving it one last wash you have no more reason to mess with it. If anything, picking at your work will just ruin it.
Ultimately you let it rest atop his desk. You think for a moment about hanging it up in the closet, but it feels too embarrassing to let him know about your snooping, even inadvertently.
Back inside the room, warmed from the sun and painted in a low gold, you’re tempted to wrap yourself up in his futon again.
For some time you repeat your old routine. After over a month without indulging yourself in old ways, the process comes a little unnaturally. You dust his shelves, fingers dancing over his array of trinkets. They seem almost random, stuffed dolls and broken pieces of painted wood. You’re extremely careful as you move them to clean.
It’s hard to keep yourself busy as you did before. You entered his room earlier in the day, not expecting to be tempted again by the lull of sleeping enveloped in traces of your husband’s warmth.
Still, as you manage to keep yourself busy the sun slowly drifts downwards. It’s on the opposite side of the window, but you can see the moon rise in turn. Though the sky isn’t particularly dark, your quick to pull out the futon.
Before you tuck yourself fully into bed you draw another book from his small shelves. For a few hours, you’ll be able to keep yourself busy with stories. Once it gets truly dark you can simply slide under the sheets and fall asleep.
—-
Beyond the edges of your consciousness, there’s movement that grows steadily louder as it urges you to wake. Eyes open slowly, useless in the dark. Instead, you wave a hand in front of yourself, which is also mostly useless.
It takes a moment for you to adjust to the dim room. As your pupils dilate there’s a sudden figure standing on the edge of the futon. With your position on the floor, he towers over you, face invisible still.
Thinking through the sleep you let your hand sweep over the floor. It bumps into the man’s ankles, forcing you to pull back.
A startled gasp leaves your lips as you move further into consciousness. You don’t scream, but you’re immediately on edge. Panicking, you mostly flail around for a bit until you realize it’s Tomioka standing before you. He’s tilted his face down to stare at you, letting you recognize him even within the darkness.
Instead of the tired fear you felt before, you’re mostly filled with shame. It’s the worst amalgamation of all your fears, caught cuddled up in his sheets.
For a moment you’re unsure of how to proceed. You’re mostly frozen for now, clutching his blankets against your chest.
“S-sorry!” The word comes out quietly, muffled by the lingering sleep in your head. It’s hard to think, brain muddled by all sorts of different things. If Giyuu would speak for once it’d let you put your thoughts in order.
You don’t know why he’s still staring at you. It’s hard to find his eyes, clouded by darkness. The dim lighting masks any emotion you could hope to find on his face.
As the adrenaline leaves your body you’re left feeling tired again. Rubbing your eyes, it seemingly prompts him to move again. The situation had somewhat halted in the pauses between your words.
“I’ll leave.” There’s a certain air to his voice, not angry, but certainly not welcoming either. You’re still not fully awake, a glance towards the window tells you that it’s too early to be awake. There’s possibly a shimmer of pale blue that signals the sun's arrival, but it won’t develop into an actual light until much later. It explains the bleariness in your eyes.
You look like a ghost as you sit up, fabric wrapping around your form. Hair hangs over your head, reaching downwards.
Halting his actions you mumble a combination of words that doesn’t really make sense. There’s a “wait” buried somewhere in there, which is what makes the man pause. You have nothing to follow the sentence up with, still trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.
You’re still shocked by embarrassment. Giyuu has finally stumbled upon you hiding in his bed. The habit was bound to get you caught eventually, so of course it happens right as you start up the trend again.
The room is filled with silence as you try to jumpstart your brain. “I’m uh-“ You pause again. Averting your eyes you find the words again. “I’m the one who’s intruding. I shouldn’t have…” Trailing off you stare at the ground again.
Your chest fills up with something akin to shame. It’s slightly less painful than before, but as your hands hold your face you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.
He completely ignores your blubbering. “You fixed my haori.” The sudden topic change catches you off guard. It brings your eyes back to him, despite the fact that your heart is still racing.
Furrowing your brows you nod. “I said I would.”
“It was ruined.”
Your brain is working very hard. “It was hard, but I didn’t mind the work. I don’t think that excuses me being so intrusive.”
“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible. You can see that he holds the cloak in
his hands. They grip the fabric so tightly you’re worried it might rip again. The show of emotion renders you silent.
As the room settles back down you shuffle your robes around you and move to stand up. “I can um-“ You lick your lips. At a constant loss for words, you vaguely gesture toward the door.
Tomioka moves back to the conversation at hand. Though his fingers continue to skate over the fabric his eyes turn back to you. “You can stay where you like, the house is as much yours as it is mine.”
That really isn’t true at all. Tomioka pays for everything, in money and blood. Your only contribution is decorating and occasionally throwing a fit in one of the rooms.
“I didn’t think you’d want me here. I should’ve asked but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me either.” The truth slips through your lips easily. You can’t quite look him in the eye, but you don’t hide from his gaze either. Stepping self-consciously off the futon you shiver at the cold wood against the soles of your feet.
When you steal a glance at the man you’re surprised at the confused look on his face. Giyuu’s mouth is pulled into a slight pout, head tilted. It’s an attractive look, a distracted part of you points out. It’s times like this that you don’t mind being married to him.
Shaking off the thoughts you open your mouth again. “You gave me my own room, so I guessed that you wanted me there.” You dig your nails into your palms. “And you didn’t talk to me after or anything.” Remembering the feeling makes your heart squeeze. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes.
“I thought you hated me.” He admits it so simply. There’s no regret in his voice about the sentiment. The thought forces a whimper from your throat.
“What?” Your voice is wobbly.
Carefully the man sinks to his knees. guiding you down with him. One fist clings to his wrist. The other ends up wound in the fabric of your sleeping gown.
Tomioka at least seems softer about this bit. “You cry often.”
Calming down you try to focus on the feeling of his arm on your back. You’re glad you’re wearing one of your worse kimonos because the sleeves have become impromptu handkerchiefs. With the sudden onslaught of your tears, you’re left unprepared. You’re not sure whether it’s the result of your body begging to go back to sleep or the wave of months of emotions catching up on you. It’s probably a combination of both. Using the piles of fabric you wipe at your nose and under your eyes.
“I thought you hated me because you didn’t talk to me at all, ‘nd you made me stay in another room, ‘nd you’re always gone.” He looks a little pained, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. “And you never sent letters. So I was just stuck here all alone and I thought I would die.” The last part isn’t true, but you’re small tears have started to turn into full-on sobs.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Giyuu sounds much more unsure of himself. His fingers on you twitch whenever your back shakes. It’s horrible reasoning considering that he’s already married to you in the first place. You say as much to him.
Tomioka is showing the biggest amount of emotion possible. His face is twisted into an expression that suggests deep thoughts. It’s nearly enough to shock you out of the sadness, but not quite.
Under his breath, he mumbles an apology. It’s not very meaningful, but you suppose he’s at least trying. You continue to rub at your face, trying to stall your tears.
For a moment you simply sit, facing each other. Though you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere other than your lap. A hand finds its way to your back, creeping hesitantly. You can’t think of a time he’s willingly touched you otherwise.
Finally, overcome you fling yourself into his side. With the sturdiness of his uniform, it’s not particularly soft against your face, but heat radiates from his body. Tomioka doesn’t hold you particularly tight. His other arm wraps around your back, though the grasp is loose and hesitant.
Whether he cares about your tears or not he doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve seated yourself in his lap. Your crying shows no signs of stopping anytime soon, built up behind months of feeling stuck. It’s a horrible mess of wet and snot and a very ugly grimace that you’re glad is hidden.
His hands eventually wander up to your hair, ghosting over the top of your scalp. You can feel how rough they are now, covered in callouses. They’re warm against your head. Almost fiery hot they brush back stray hairs.
Focusing on the repetitive feeling of his hand, alongside the steady beating of his heart, you’re able to stop the tears. A small hiccup or gasp manages to leave you every few seconds, but it’s much less intense than before.
Not very inclined to move, you’re content to keep your face buried within the body in front of you. His hands don’t stop their gentle motions even as you stop your small noises. It’s perhaps the most comfortable you’ve felt in a very long time. Giyuu smells like his futon, but a thousand times more powerful.
As your eyes dry they also begin to drag downward. It’s the inevitable end to every single one of your emotional explosions. Your arms are drooping, their grasp loosening. Distantly you realize that you should move, excuse yourself to your room or do anything to move. Instead, you bury yourself deeper into his chest.
As he begins to move you almost pull yourself back from him. Arms flex around you and tighten their hold. Just when you muster the energy to uncurl your fingers and force your eyes back open, he lifts you up. You’re not surprised by the strength, you’ve seen it before, but it does set a little shock through your stomach.
Suddenly you’re not very inclined to do much of anything.
If he notices the way your hands dig back into his shirt, he doesn’t say anything. You’re pleased by the feeling of muscles flexing around you. Giyuu’s actions aren’t entirely discernible, not from your position, but the way he moves is slightly soothing. It’s reminiscent of being rocked to sleep, his movements graceful.
You let yourself remain in the limbo between rest and wakefulness. The edges of the world ebb away until you’re sat back down, nestled within his futon. It’s been smoothed again, rustled from your whining. It offers the same comfort it always has once you’re enveloped within the warm sheets. As his arms pull away from you, your lips form a ghost of his name.
—-
In the morning you keep your eyes shut for as long as possible. Your mind has snapped awake, reminding you of last night's events. There’s a dryness around your eyes from where your tears have evaporated. As tempting as it is to reach a hand up to rub away the grogginess you keep them in place for now.
Feeling your surroundings gives you almost no clues. All you know is that it is very warm, and you are very comfortable. Slowly you let your eyes barely peek open, a small slit to peer through.
Giyuu is lying next to you, in the sense that he is curled up in on himself at the opposite end of the futon. It’s not a very great length, but the gap between your bodies stretches endlessly in your mind. His back faces you, to which you let your eyes open almost fully. There are small imperfections to his posture, his spine shifting with his breath. It's a slow movement, a reassurance that he’s still slumbering.
You don’t trust yourself to escape without notice. Every sound you make as you settle seems to make the man pause. You’re not sure what that might accomplish either, the events from the night before too embarrassing to accept, but too poignant to ignore.
Softly you let your body relax again. For now, you’re content to watch his body move slightly with each breath. It’s convincing to reach across the gap and feel the warmth you’ve longed for more directly.
Is peaceful, the sun still low enough to not pierce through the window. It still allows faint light inside, illuminating the area.
You’re feeling surprisingly well-rested. There’s a deep calmness in your bones. Lazing about in the bed feels nice, natural. It reminds you of celebrations back home when you were free from responsibilities. There are whispers of summer streaming through the window.
For a few moments, you bask in the light starting to make its way across the floor. lt caresses your face and finally prompts you to move.
Slowly you rise upwards. Tomioka seems to rest still, unmoving. Slowly you creep out of the room, and back towards your own.
It’s chilly in your room, making the hairs on your neck stand on end. With the window facing West, no sun will warm it until the evening. The temperature makes the changing process nearly impossible. Your holding your chest, shivering before you can slip on another dress. Bouncing on your feet you shuffle around until you’re fully clothed again.
It’s easy to move around the house with a light heart. Whether Tomioka has awoken yet or not is a thought that hardly crosses your mind as you cook. Mostly you hope he’ll dine with you, tired of eating in months of silence.
Your hands move quickly as you shuffle around rooting through cabinets. Over time you’ve switched to much more appetizing meals than rice porridge. For today, with your want for a quick breakfast, you mostly work with eggs and fried rice. Throwing in a couple of diced peppers and onions your stomach growls as the sizzling veggies.
The presentation is important to you too. It feels like you’re actually doing something, being a wife. Maybe. You still don’t know if this is right, but you shared a bed last night with your husband. He wasn’t particularly close, but closer than a hallway and walls that separated you before.
So you balance the plates on your arms and move carefully back towards his room. The sense of nervousness creeps up again but isn’t as fierce as before. It at least isn’t enough to deter you from using your foot to slide the door open.
Tomioka has finally risen. His hair is sticking in all sorts of directions, sleep evident in his eyes. You’re surprised at how late he’s slept in.
“Good morning.” A blush creeps back onto your cheeks. It raises your temperature by a few degrees at least, bringing warmth to your face.
“I uh-“ Your mouth is suddenly dry. “I brought food.” The words come out a shy squeak. For a moment the plates wobble in your hold until you square your shoulders and regain control.
He regards you with a surprising amount of warmth, what you think is warmth at least. It’s not indifference, or anger, something kinder.
“Thank you.” He doesn’t smile as he talks, not exactly a frown either. The man exists in the crevices between emotions, which is how he manages to be completely indecipherable most of the time.
You manage to look somewhat graceful as you lower yourself, plates still balancing in your hands. Once you’re close enough he swipes one from your hand, instead letting it sit in his lap.
“You can eat with me,” Giyuu says in a matter-of-fact way that makes your eyebrows raise. He waits for only a second, letting the silence hang, before continuing. “I thought I should be more direct.”
His explanation forces a small light laugh from your lips. “Right, I’m glad. I’ll be sure to do the same.” The corner of his eyes curl up, even though his lips don’t form a smile quite yet. You’re not even sure if he can smile, maybe the man has some sort of disease.
He eats though. And though he’s careful there are little bits of rice stuck to his face. In the corner of his mouth is a little line of ketchup. It’s such a human sight, a clumsy eater that doesn’t know anything about romance or women. There’s some sadness too, the lack of proper social understanding, formed by a life dedicated to fighting.
Realizing the fact that you’re staring quite obviously (something that he somehow does not notice) you look down to eat your own food. The sound of chewing is slightly grating on your ears, but you cannot muster up anymore to say.
Within just a few moments, when you’ve only finished a few bites of food, his fork is scraping against the plates. There’s a decent amount of rice still scattered over his face, some on the floor and his shirt, but most seem to have made it into his mouth. It’s hard not to laugh at the sight, of crumbs sticking to the corner of his lips. Though you’re able to remain silent, your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowing as your lips tug upwards.
“I can make more if you’d like.”
Tomioka still seems half-asleep as he turns to you. “It’s fine.” Despite his appearance, the man’s voice is soft and even. “But I did enjoy it.”
Your lips move into an even bigger smile. It’s half hidden behind your hand, fear of food stuck in your teeth, but the message is still translated clearly. “Did you like the egg too? I don’t know your tastes, so I’ve mostly been guessing.”
His eyebrows furrow again, that concentrated look crossing his face. “I like salmon, salmon daikon. Though I don’t know if that’s appropriate for a breakfast.” He answers quickly.
“Dinner then,” you offer.
He shakes his head. “I’ll have to leave for another mission tonight.” Your shoulders deflate slightly. At least a warning is more than you’ve gotten before. “But I can send you a letter before I arrive back.”
The offer brings your smile back. “I’ll make sure to buy some things for Salmon Daikon. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had!”
—-
He lets you spend most of the morning bothering him. Tomioka says that there’s no point leaving for a few more hours, which you don’t really get, but he probably knows best. While you anxiously watch the sun climb higher into the sky Giyuu gets ready. He doesn’t give you any warning, or tell you to leave, before stripping off most of his clothes.
His back is covered in long strips of scar and muscle. You’ve once again tucked yourself into the folds of the futon, content to watch from there. It’s pleasing the way his shoulders move as he strips the shirt off.
As he moves to remove his pants too, you have the decency to look away. The man doesn’t seem concerned with your presence, but even the thought of seeing him mostly bare makes your eyes screw themselves shut. They don’t crack open until the rustling of fabric and movement stops.
He’s donned the common uniform once again, haori placed overtopped. Tomioka looks so normal again, like he used to every time he flew in and out of the house. You’re staring at the junction where you fixed the sleeve, wondering if he too has noticed the shift.
“I think it looks good,” he tells you. “Much better than anything I could do. I’m not very good at mending things.”
“I can tell,” the words slip from your lips easily. It’s a careless comment, meant to be taken as a joke, but sounds a little too cruel. Your eyes widen, mouth quickly covered with your hands. “I didn’t mean, I uh-“
“You’re fine.” His mouth has quirked upwards just slightly. “It’s true, but I do like to think I’ve improved over the years.”
A hand is still raised over your lips, hoping to keep another dumb comment from slipping through. Once you’re sure you’ve stopped yourself from spoiling the moment you let your hands drop back to your lap. “I’m sure you have.”
He takes sword from where it’s stood carefully in the corner. You watch as he slides the sheath into place along his belt. It completes his ensemble, making him look like a proper soldier. If it were possible (which is to say, if it didn’t put you in mortal danger) you’d like to see him in action. Maybe he’ll let you watch him train sometime.
“Are you going then?”
He nods. “It’s not too far. If I’m lucky I can come back before getting another notice. So you won’t feel so lonely.”
His concern makes your heart throb. Biting your lower lip you try not to let it quiver. “I’ll make you something, give me a few minutes. That way you won’t starve.” Without waiting for his answer you leave the room and rush to the kitchen.
The truth was that you had already prepared some onigiri earlier, tucked away inside the fridge. It’s stuffed with tuna and onions are you’re trying hard not to eat them as you tuck them into a bento. There’s plenty of extra, and you can leave the more… unsightly ones for yourself.
Tomioka comes down the hall just a few moments after you finish. It’s perfect timing. There’s a small sack on his back, which he lets you tuck the lunch into. “Don’t wait too long before eating it though,” you instruct. “I don’t want it to go bad.”
“Right.”
“And be safe!”
“Ok.”
“And-“ You have to curl your hands into fists to force the words the words out, “Iloveyou.”
You’re prepared to turn tail and hide back in your own room (and probably cry—or die—from embarrassment). Before you can even point your feet in the right direction he’s caught your wrist. Though you can barely look at him, you are welcomed to the sight of his pretty pink cheeks. He pulls you toward him, perhaps with more force than necessary, and plants a kiss on your own fiery skin.
You’ve barely registered what’s happened when he’s disappeared beyond the doorway. You don’t know if you’ll be able to drag your feet anywhere else until he gets back, scared of loosing this feeling.
#kny fanfic#Tomioka Giyuu#tomioka giyuu x reader#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#tomioka x reader#giyuu x reader#Tomioka giyuu x you#fem!reader#mxf#this took so long#too long#reblogs appreciated
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HELPING HAND — 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚
pairings. sub!giyu tomioka x dom!afab!reader.
synopsis. of course, you could be the sweet little girlfriend that you are and help your darling boyfriend out. but where's the fun in that? he's got hands, and with your help, he'll figure out how to use them.
cw. 18+ content, guided masturbation, voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, cum eating, praise kick [giyu receiving], edging, mentions of overstimulation, minors do not interact.
author's note. i just want to hold giyu while telling him he's a good boy. gushing about how pretty he is—is that really too much to ask?
wc. 3.8k.
“You don’t expect me to do all the work, do you? Come on, love, you take over now.”
Giyu wasn’t sure what startled him most. The words you’d given him, the sudden loss of your hand snugly wrapped around his painfully hard cock, or the sudden fading of the impending orgasm that was about to hit him. Quite possibly, it was a mixture of all three.
Perhaps he’d simply heard you wrong. Maybe you hadn’t meant to take your hand away from him. Surely you hadn’t consciously put a hamper on his pleasure. You’d never do that. As long as he was good—you’d never do that. You told him so.
Had he done something wrong?
“W—What?” Giyu pushed out, chest heaving up and down as he lifted his head up from your chest. Previously hidden in the crook of your neck, he turned to look up at you. “Did I do something? Was I not—Did I not…”
You looked down at him, disappointment heavy in your eyes. It made him frown, a slight panic settling in his stomach. One of your fingers found their home underneath his chin, nudging it upwards to get him closer to you. You hovered your lips over his, smiling when you saw him keening into the touch, eyes falling shut as his lips tried to land on yours.
“You were going to cum,” you said, just before he was to retrieve his kiss. He immediately stopped his movements. The ring of truth within the sentence hit him in the face, and Giyu felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over him. Because he was going to cum. “And you never bothered to ask if you could.”
Your extensive knowledge of the way his body worked was often a blessing to him, as you managed to get him to fall apart so quickly and so beautifully. At times like these, however, it often felt like a curse—the stifled hitches in his breathy, poorly hidden moans, the way he’d lean into your chest to hide his face between your tits, and the way his hips started to meet your movements ever so slightly were all tell-tale signs of his.
Normally, he’d utter a quick question to you. One you’d always, without fail, answer with a yes. Simply because of the fact that he asked. It seemed he’d conveniently forgotten to do so today. And so, you took his previously unending pleasure away from him.
If only he’d asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. Voice still impossibly quiet, but not quite enough to miss the desperation in it. “I’m sorry. Please, can I…?” He never finished the sentence, too shy to utter the actual word—he’s lucky you found that endearing.
You gazed at him lovingly, and the hope for his wish to be granted grew. A heavy sigh fanned over his face, your peppermint-scented breath tickled across his skin.
“You can,” you mumbled lazily, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek. Planting a kiss on his nose, you withheld a smile at the way his eyes lit up. “But you’ll have to get yourself there.”
All the hope you’d given him got diminished into nothing, all within a matter of seconds. “Wha—What do you mean?” Giyu asked; genuine confusion settling in.
The cutest little frown appeared on his forehead, and his eyebrows pulled together. He shifted in your hold, biting down a hiss when his movement briefly caused your hand to glide over his cock. You’d pulled it back before he could get any real satisfaction from it, but he was still, so, so sensitive from before.
You watched him move in amusement, watched him dart around in unease for a few seconds. Only for him to sit back down in the same way he’d been before. Seated on his bedsheets, with only his head and upper body careened towards you, with the former finding its home on your chest and within the crook of your neck. His figure was slightly downwards from yours, making the space he always went to for comfort a lot easier to access.
You, having never moved, were still seated sideways, still turned towards him, and once again placed your hand on his cheek—as he’d previously pushed it off with his unnecessary wiggling. Giyu let out a sigh, his forehead resting against your collarbone. You smiled, and moved the hand formerly on his cheek upwards, allowing it to nestle within his hair.
“As cute as you’re being,” you said, moving your hand to play with the dark locks. “I’m not changing my mind. If you want to cum, you’ll have to do it yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your skin, kissing it shortly after.
He clung to you more than before, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull him into you—body turning sideways to mold his figure to yours, the fabric of his opened yukata now falling closed again and hiding his body from prying eyes.
“I’m—” He sighed; another kiss on the base of your throat this time. “—sorry.”
“I know you are,” you cooed. It was rare for him to be so physically affectionate, to cling to you so much, never allowing even an inch between the two of you. “And I know you won’t do it again, won’t you?”
“I won’t,” he promised, face still hidden from your view. The tips of his ears were slightly tinted pink, and served as your only indication of whatever he was currently feeling. “I won’t. So, can you, please…”
You stopped your movements in his hair. “Please, what?”
It took him a few seconds to answer; as if he was contemplating what to say, as if pushing the words out were to put him into an early grave. But—he did so, nonetheless.
“Please, help me.”
“Help you?”
“Mhm,”
You decided then and there. As endearing as you thought it was, today would be the day you’d teach him to speak fully and clearly to you—to really, really think about the words he used. You’d been way too easy on him, way too giving. Then again, how could you not? When he was being so sweet, looking so pretty, and always so good to you in return.
The smile on your face appeared involuntarily, but you did little to remove it. “Oh, baby, of course I can,” you said, a slight coo to your voice. Finally, Giyu removed himself from the secure hiding spot he’d chosen. Looking down at him, you cupped his cheek again and gave him a soft peck on the lips. “Go sit back down.”
The eagerness in his next movements caused you to chuckle, and caused him to feel further embarrassment; both at his excitement and the desperation he knew he showed you. Not to worry too much, as the thought of you finally satiating his desires thoroulgy outweighed the brief, uncomfortable feeling of shame he felt.
“Here,” you said, inching closer to him. Slightly pushing him forward, you took a seat behind him. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and you pressed him back against your chest. The back of his head came to a rest on your sternum. “Let me help.”
Giyu did exactly as you told him. He sat back down, relishing in the way your body pressed into his back, in the way your breasts seem to perfectly squish against him, even the slight touch of your knee against his thigh had him anticipating what was to come. All that was going through his mind was you, you, you, and how you were going to finally help him out.
The want and need for your touch increased with every second that passed, every caress you gave the fabric of his yukata before finally pushing it aside again. The cold air hitting him so suddenly caused his dick to twitch, a bead of the pre-cum gathered at the top fell down his tip and dripped along his length.
“So pretty,” you mumbled under your breath; more so to yourself than to him. He keened at the words, the craving for your rougher caresses to return ever increasing. “You always look so pretty, Giyu.”
“Y—Yeah?”
“Yeah,”
From the corner of his eyes, he could see you extending your hand towards his body. Already his eyes started fluttering closed—only for them to snap open again once your hand found his instead of his cock. Confused, he blinked a couple of times, looking between you and your intertwined hands.
“What—What are you doing?”
Uninterested in his wants at the moment, you simply brought his hand up towards his length. His fingers froze once you wrapped them securely around him, and the shock on his face stayed for a bit as he watched you jerk him off with his own hand. Even though it was technically you doing it—it still didn’t feel nearly as good.
“Wha—” He cleared his throat, stifling a grunt when you used his thumb to wipe over his tip, allowing yourself to smear the pre-cum over the rest of him. “This—This wasn’t what I meant.”
“Was it not?” You answered; there was an awful lack of interest in your voice. He knew it was faked, knew you’d stop if he asked, but he also knew you were doing this all on purpose, and if he wasn’t truly wishing for it to stop—you wouldn’t. “Best to choose your words more carefully next time, then.”
You upped the speed, both your hands getting covered in slick as you went along. The lewd sounds, a mixture of the squelching between his thighs, and the restrained groans he always tried to hide, being the only thing sounding throughout the room. Not once did you stop—you’d pick up the pace, up, up, and up, and then when he’d get closer, you slowed it down again.
Giyu didn’t seem to like your irregularity one bit.
“Please,” he breathed out again. “Please.”
By now, you’d lost count of the times he said it. At the offered plea, you removed your hand from his and seized all movement—and if he hadn’t bitten his lip, you were sure a whine would’ve escaped. His own hand stayed firmly wrapped around the base, never moving, as if waiting for you to join it again. You weren’t going to, and if he weren’t so delirious by now he would’ve come to the same conclusion.
“I told you, baby,” you said, faking a pout. The hand you previously used on him was brought to your lips, and Giyu closed his eyes to maintain some form of restraint once he saw you licking off the residue of his fluids. “If you want to cum, make yourself cum.”
The look in his eye stirred up conflicting emotions within you.
On one hand he looked so gorgeous, so utterly beautiful with such sad eyes, such a yearning for you to continue, for you to make him finish, that it made you want to keep him in this state just a second longer—if only to admire him.
On the other hand, you hated seeing him that way. You’d always given him everything he wanted, kept him so happy, so satisfied. Because you loved him so much, and you just wanted to take care of him.
“Please,” he said again, voice cracking this time around.
The angelic sound he produced had you making up your mind. The smile you gave him in return wasn’t the least bit comforting.
“You can do it,” you told him, hand cupping over his cheek. “I showed you how to do it. Wasn’t that difficult, was it?”
“…It feels better when you do it.”
“I know it does, darling, I know it does. But you’ve lost the opportunity to cum by my hands. So, yours will have to do for tonight.”
Ever so slightly, his bottom lip puffed out. Emotions you’d never seen before swirled around in his irises; contemplation, greed, hunger, unbridled lust, reluctance. He wanted to cum so badly—as you’d denied him at least twice now.
Still, this wasn’t something he’d easily do, you knew, as he’d most likely be utterly embarrassed by jacking himself off in front of you.
Always so shy.
“I’m sorry,” he tried again; one last time, if the look on his face was anything to go by. His breaking point wasn’t too far away.
You smiled. “I know,” you said, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose, which caused his eyes to flutter shut. Pulling back, your smile had disappeared. Your gaze went to where his pretty cock laid discarded, upper thighs and fingers wet with his own filth. “Now get to it.”
Giyu’s face fell, but he abided by your words regardless. He broke the stare the two of you shared, line of sight now fully focused on the ceiling—an attempt at saving the remaining shards of his dignity, a shot at avoiding your mesmerised eyes. A shudder left his parted lips when he finally, ever so slowly, started pumping his hand up and down his length.
Chest heaving, and droplets of sweat gathering at the top of his forehead, soft cheeks colouring a pretty pink and his bottom lip a sweet red from the force his teeth brought to it. If you were any good at painting, you would’ve started immediately.
Giyu doesn’t hold back on himself, either. His fist goes harder, rougher, and faster with each time he moves it up and down, seemingly wasting no time in finally achieving that high he longed for. Sharp breaths and stifled grunts left him, and a startled sound interrupted his steady stream of mumbles when you pulled his bottom lip out from between his teeth.
“None of that,” you scolded him.
“M—M sorry,” he gasped out, harder to hide what he was feeling now he’d been chastised for it. He never did like you being disappointed in him.
“Mhm,” you hummed, watching attentively as he continued.
Deciding to make it that much harder for him, your hand reached out for his chest. Careful fingertips glided over chiselled features, following every dip in his v-line, caressing the outline of the muscles on his abdomen, going higher, and higher, and higher—until they delicately skimmed the top of his nipple, as if it were an accident.
With the way you smirked upon noticing his twitching, the stutter in his eager gasps for air, he very well knew it wasn’t.
Slightly turning his face upwards, you pressed a kiss to his head, his cheek, his jaw, until you finally ducked into the space between his neck and collarbone. For a brief moment, you saw him pause his movements.
You hummed against the column of his throat. “Keep going,” you mumbled, and he listened.
All the while you sucked on the gentle, pale skin, leaving subtle bruises in your wake; Giyu continued, still chasing that high, still searching for that feeling of relief.
The faint grunts he let out felt like vibrations underneath your lips, and once his breath hitched and the sound of the moans climbed an octave, you pulled back from his throat for a second. Lips hovering over the lithe skin, waiting, wanting, expectingthat question.
“Please,” he said, the sound of him pleasuring himself still reaching your ears. If it were to be bottled, you’d select it as your drink of choice. “Can I—May I….”
You smiled against his jaw. A featherlight kiss pressed to it. Then—
“No.”
“W—What?” He asked, frowning, hissing at the way he had to hold himself back. Of course he was struggling, he hadn’t slowed down a bit after your denial. Still keeping that same pace. “Why—I asked, right? So, I—”
“Go slower,” you instructed. Your chin went to rest on his shoulder, an adoring look in your eyes as you watched his hand move up and down oh-so-rapidly. “Slower. If you don’t, you’ll cum too soon.”
“But I—”
“Slower.”
“I asked—”
“Giyu.”
He immediately paused. Gulping, hesitating, and then, finally, continuing. His hand went up- and downwards in languid strokes, extra pressure applied once he got to the tip, desperate for some added stimulation. Drop after drop of pre-cum fell out, covering his hand, his cock—all so easily visible to you.
“There you go,” you mumbled against his ear, the breath tickling against his skin. Giyu let out a shaky sigh at that, jaw starting to clench at the increasing pressure without ever feeling any release. “Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You smirked at the way your words went straight to his dick, the subtle twitch it gave made you think of more sweetly muttered praises to give him. He didn’t respond to your question, which was fine, as it was more of a rhetorical one. Instead, he kept focusing, kept bringing himself closer to that edge—only to be pulled back by you each time he was about to take the leap.
“Can I—”
“No. Speed up for me.”
“Pleas—”
“No. Faster.”
“I need t—”
“You don’t need a thing, love. Go faster.”
You truly wondered whether you’d get him to release one of those whines he usually tried to hide. Never before had you gotten the privilege of hearing them. Then again, you hadn’t seen him so dishevelled, so scattered, so broken before, either.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. He choked out a gasp. The tip of his dick had turned a painful shade of red over time, and you knew you’d have to let him go soon. You didn’t want him to actually hurt himself. “Just a bit longer for me, yeah?”
Giyu shook his head no, slowly at first, and quickly after a few seconds. “I can’t,” he gasped, words slurred and slowly morphing into incoherent babbles. “”M Can’t—Please, j—Ngh.”
“Shh, yes you can, baby, I know you can.” You whispered, catching the lone tear that fell from his eye. “Just a little more.”
What a sight for sore eyes. You cherished it wholly, forever keeping it in your mind. Giyu, your Giyu, so needy, so sensitive, and so desperate for a release, that he’d shed a tear for it—for you.
Hell, he was so beautiful, so gorgeous when he laid in your arms like that.
And he’d listened to you so well. Slowed down when you told him to, quickened the pace when you said so, never cumming once you forbade it—no matter how badly he wanted to, needed to. He’d been so good. Surely, he was due for a reward.
You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and then lifted your chin from your previous resting spot on his shoulder. One of your hands reached forward, going between his legs and fondling with his balls—you thoroughly relished in the sound it evoked from him. The whimper you were waiting for finally escaped.
Giyu clawed at your wrist with his free hand, trying to push it away as you stimulated the previously neglected part of his body. “No,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Please, d—’m gonna cum if y—can’t….”
“It’s okay,” you told him, applying the slightest bit of pressure on him, tightening your fingers together the smallest bit. The supple flesh lay in the palm of your hand, knowing that, as soon as you reached for his balls—Giyu was absolutely done for. “It’s okay. You’ve done well, love, you’ve done so well.”
“Can I—C—” He gasped as you squeezed again, the hand he previously used to try and push your wrist away now fell down to the mattress as his energy started to fade. “Please—Can I…”
“Go ahead, baby,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.
More words weren’t needed. As soon as you’d told him he could cum, a strangled moan left his lips. His head fell back, resting against your chest, his eyes closed and another tear fell, his chest never stopped with its rapid heaving and his free hand reached for your leg, fingers digging into the skin to find something to hold onto.
You watched as he decorated his own chest with thick, white ropes of cum. A startled hum leaving him as you grabbed his base for the second time that night, one of your hands around his length and the other still playing with his balls—milking as much out of him as you could. His fingers shook when he brought them towards yours once he knew that was all you were going to get, and he gently pushed your hand aside.
“‘S sensitive,” he mumbled, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Giyu closed his eyes, allowing himself to be held by you. “Thank you.”
You hummed in amusement, placing your cheek against the side of his head and slightly squeezing his fatigued form in your arms. Carefully, as to not startle him, you allowed one of your fingers to reach forward and scoop up some of his release on his stomach.
As soon as you did so, you felt Giyu stiffen—his eyes snapping open and stuck to your pretty face as he watched your lips wrapping around the digit, licking the taste of him off it.
“I love you,” he mumbled, enthralled at the way your tongue swept the cum off your finger.
The words left him before he realised, but he didn’t care much at the moment. He meant them, and that was all that mattered.
You smiled at him. “I love you, too,” you answered, nudging his nose with yours. The kiss you pressed to his lips left him breathless again, never wanting to forget the way your mouths moulded perfectly together. You stayed close to him when you pulled back, lips still hovering over each other’s. “Now, let’s make you cum, yeah?”
He froze in your hold. “But I—I just…”
You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb, all but lost in the way his eyes filled with fear, excitement, lust, and a hint of longing. “You wanted me to make you cum, no?” You asked, very well knowing his previous words weren’t meant to be applied in such a situation. “You made yourself cum just now. I didn’t do much.”
“W—Well, yes, but I…”
“Let’s see how many I can pull out of you, then.”
Giyu swallowed. The next time, he’d make sure to ask you before cumming, and he’d definitely make sure to use proper wording for it.
…Or maybe not, he may just conveniently “forget” to do it again in the future.
ⓒ GIYUJI — I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORKS ANYWHERE ELSE. PLEASE REFRAIN FROM DOING SO, THANK YOU.
#giyu tomioka#giyu tomioka x reader#giyu tomioka smut#giyuu tomioka#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyu x you#giyuu x you#giyu tomioka x you#giyuu tomioka x you#tomioka giyu x reader#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyu x you#tomioka giyuu x you#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader
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❦ GIYUU X PREGNANT!READER
cw: none, this is fluff, fem!reader
"you have a wife?!" sanemi yelled.
"you’re lying." obanai mumbled. "that’s sad."
"tomioka, how sweet!" mitsuri called.
giyuu’s eyes narrowed at rengoku, the bright man just smiled innocently.
"i had no idea they didn’t know," he sheepishly said.
as soon as giyuu got back from his mission, the flame hashira informed him that his wife was in the butterfly mansion. something had happened, and she needed to be taken to shinobu. unfortunately, rengoku wasn’t known for being quite—blasted eardrums will do that to a person—so the other hashira in the perimeter got to hear (for the first time) that not only was giyuu NOT single, he was MARRIED.
they ended up following him through the halls, pestering him with questions until they reached the room you stayed in. your husband ignored them like usual, the only thing on his mind being your well being.
his nerves were calmed, however, immediately upon seeing you laying in bed, a smile on your face as you chatted with shinobu.
"how are you feeling?" giyuu’s tone was soft as he blocked you from the prying eyes of the other hashira in the doorway. he made his way towards your side.
"tired." you smiled at him, letting your husband hold your hand and run his thumb over your fingers. "shinobu said it was a false contraction."
"it was caused by stress," your friend’s calming voice said. "makes sense, tomioka, anyone married to you would be on edge."
your husband just grumbled at his friend as you giggled. he then helped you sit up in bed, the blankets falling off to reveal your pregnant stomach to the small audience watching.
"you had sex?!" sanemi screamed.
oblivious to the small mass of people staring at you, sanemi’s outburst startled you, causing you to grab onto your husband’s haori. he instinctively pulled you close, his soft look switching to a death glare towards the doorway.
"hush!" giyuu seethed at him, finally giving attention to the posse. "she’s nine months pregnant; shut up."
although listening and lowering his voice, sanemi didn’t let his question go unanswered. "you’re not a virgin?"
"go away," giyuu deadpanned. "all of you, go away. now."
"it’s okay, darling," you tried to soothe him. "maybe you should introduce me to your friends."
you felt him tense up at that. he didn’t let go of your hand, and he only moved half a step away from you (half of them still couldn’t see you), and he spoke with a monotone voice. "this is my wife, y/n. she’s pregnant with our first child."
the was no verbal reaction from the onlookers, just looks of disbelief from the four of them. it felt like you were an animal in the zoo with the way they were all staring dumbfounded at you.
it took a couple minutes for shinobu and rengoku to get the others out, leaving you and giyuu alone in the room. as soon as the door closed, your husband grabbed your face and peppered kisses all over it, causing you to giggle. he took a seat on the edge of the bed to be closer to you.
"i’m so sorry," he said, kissing your lips. "i’m sorry i wasn’t here."
"it’s okay, baby." you let your head rest on his shoulder. "i’m just glad i didn’t give birth."
"i would never forgive myself if i was gone for that." giyuu’s hand ran up and down your back comfortingly.
you sigh in relief, turning your head to place a kiss on his neck.
"well now that you’re here, let’s get this baby out of me."
#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#giyuu x reader#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x you#giyuu fluff#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer x y/n#giyuu tomioka x reader#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka x reader
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Hashira’s Reaction to your skirt flowing during a mission
pov: you’re fighting a demon and while landing your skirt blew up a bit to far…
warnings: slightly suggestive?? if you squint hard enough
characters: giyuu, tengen, sanemi, and rengoku.
a/n: sorry if there’s any misspells and wtv, to lazy to read over
Giyuu Tomioka
- Happened when you were in mid air with the demon and he just so happened to look up right underneath you
- Would definitely try and act like he didn’t completely get a face full of your pink panties
- His face would go a shade you’d never expect to see on a guy like him, red.
- “Is everything okay?” Soemthing you’d ask to make sure he wasn’t about to pass out
- After seeing it, he’d probably pause during the fight making you yell at him to move
- Even though you guys are dating he’s still flustered
“Giyuu, what’s up with you?” You ask holding your hand up to his flushed cheeks.
“It’s nothing, how about we find a place to stay for the night?”
“But this mission wasn’t even that far from headquarters-”
He doesn’t reply and just drags you away towards an inn, you could tell when he wanted something…and you knew what that something was…
Sanemi Shinazugawa
- Happened when you did a flip backwards to dodge a demons attack
- Would stare at you like you have three heads
- Kills the demon in seconds after seeing your skirt fly up to reveal your cute panties
- Has a shit eating grin as he looks at you, which you were oblivious to the fact you just basically flashed him
- Adds extra wind to his attack just to see your skirt flow
“That was quick!” You smile putting your sword away.
“Nice underwear.” Sanemi said pulling you in by your waist.
Your face immediately began to heat up, did your skirt show a bit more than it needed?
“Shut up you perv!” You say nudging him.
Even though you two were dating you still were embarrassed, later that night he’d definitely have to take a peak.
Kyojuro Rengoku
- It happened as you jumped in front of him to help deflect the demons attack
- You felt a little air brush against an area but quickly shrugged it off and continued to follow through with your attacks
- A loud gasp was heard from behind you..
- His face is most definitely lit up, and a slight smile is on his face
“Oh my!” Rengoku yelled.
“What? Did I do something wrong?” You ask innocently, oblivious to the fact you just shoved your butt in his face.
“You may need a longer skirt, (y/n)!” Rengoku chuckled as he patted your back.
Tengen Uzui
- We all know, he’d definitely smack your ass
- Happened in the same situation with Rengoku, your ass on full display for him
- You yelped after the contact his hand made with your body
- No shame, not at all
- in a modern au he’d yell gyat, don’t tell me otherwise
“What the hell!?” You say rubbing your butt to try and calm the stinging pain.
“We have got to find a place tonight.” Tengen snickered as he sliced the demons neck.
“Yeah like i’ll let you do anything to me.” You smirk, knowing you’d get on your knees if he said so.
“Oh really?”
#giyuu x reader#tomioka x you#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#sanemi x y/n#sanemi x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#tengen uzui#tengen x reader
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𝓢𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮…
A small smut fic of you and Giyuu fucking in the bedroom…except…
NSFW! RECOMMENDED 16+
A/N: If you like music, I recommend reading this while listening to Say Yes by Floetry! >.<
word count: 386
warning tags: No plot.
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
Breathing…panting..whining..moaning…
The dim-lit bedroom just gets hotter and hotter as the heat between your bodies and your breath fill the air. Giyuu towers over you, his body between your legs as one is over his shoulder for easier access. Your walls seemed to be everything he ever wanted, as he grunts and moans every thrust he makes. You loll your head to the side, your tits bouncing every inward push. Giyuu grabs your chin and redirects your head to face him. You whine as you both lock eyes.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
You have to admit. You looking at Giyuu and taking in the view of him enjoying himself gets you even more turned on. There isn’t a lot of times when his usual demeanor is ruined by your inner walls clenched around his cock, fucking you senseless.
He takes his hand off your chin as he places it beside your head. The way your head stayed in place even when he let it go, and you still maintaining eye contact with him sent a shock of pleasure. Such an obedient girl, no?
Your legs started to jerk as you moaned and slurred your words. The sensation of being filled and empty again repeatedly threw you off the edge. Your eyelids flutter as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. You grab onto his haori, clumsily missing it the first time from the seemingly unending pleasure.
“Rig..hah…right there. Right thERE~” The intensity of your words increased as your feet pointed and curled. You arch your back, gripping the sheets of the bed. Your legs start to shake violently. As soon as you clench your pussy, he lets out a loud grunt as he bites his lower lip. His grunts continue as ropes of semen land in you. The feeling was overwhelming. You controlled yourself, slowly exhaling whines and moans as he keeps inserting to let his and your high subside. He grabs your breast for useless support, and leans down to kiss you. You and his tongue intertwine, hands touching sensually in places that you never knew were so sensitive. This is the third time you both have been so desperate for each other. When will this progress? You will never know, but the scandal sure does arouse you.
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
mwah!~
based on a request from one of my mutuals on Tiktok!
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#fanfic#kny fandom#kny fanfic#giyuu x reader#giyuu smut#kny giyuu#tomioka giyuu smut#tomioka giyū#kimetsu no yaiba tomioka#kimetsu tomioka#demon slayer fandom#smut writing#demon slayer smut#kny x you#kny x reader#demon slayer x reader#kny smut#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#im running out of tags
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I'm married, Miss
Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader
Your husband is a changed man when drunk.
Tags: fluff, alcohol consumption, post-Muzan era (so minor KNY spoilers?)
Word count: 0,8k
Masterlist
Giyuu and you had gone on your customary monthly date night - to the lively izakaya you had first met at, introduced to each other by Tengen. It was a place that also served good food, other than the good alcohol, which was a definite bonus, but you were not thinking about any of the details of how or why you became a couple.
How could you, when Giyuu seemed to be deep in his cups and looking cute enough to eat?
A slight flush overtook his face some time ago, making you admire him with a bright smile. Your husband was so handsome, wasn’t he?
He took a small piece of food from the shared plate of assorted meats you shared, still a little clumsy with his left hand. He had an adorable frown marring his brow, his lips set in a pout, before he finally managed to successfully bring the bite to his lips, his expression relaxing as he chewed.
He truly was a changed man when drunk.
“I love you,” you told him, still staring at him with a wide smile on your face.
Giyuu paused, blinking a few times, as if he’d just noticed you were there. “I’ll have you know I’m married, Miss,” he retorted neutrally, stumbling over his words a bit, the frown from earlier returning.
His answer surprised you. How much had he had to drink? Before you could tell him you were his spouse in question, he started to speak.
“I’m afraid you have no chance against her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He jabbed his chopsticks in your direction, as his coworker Obanai used to do with his finger, accusatory. “You might be pretty but she’s prettier.”
Laughter bubbled from your throat. “Is she? Tell me more about her, please.”
Giyuu’s frown was replaced by a completely neutral face, the only indication to his intoxication the blush on his cheeks. He was dead serious about ‘his wife’, it seemed. “She’s amazing,” he said breathily, adoration clear despite his expression. “My pearl, gods, what I wouldn’t give to hold her right now…” He looked down on his hand, still holding the chopsticks as it rested on the table, looking like a sad puppy. “She’s so-” he gestured oddly in the air, snapping his chopsticks as he concentrated, “she’s so comfort-shaped.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, your smile turning lovesick as you took in your drunk husband. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? He loved you as much as you loved him.
“She’s my treasure, flashiest treasure - she’s always got this glow, you see?” Giyuu leaned forward as if he were telling you a great secret. “She’s beautiful.” He nodded sagely, agreeing with himself.
You couldn’t help but to ask him a personal question that had weighed on your mind for a time while he was out of it. “Oh, what about her bad traits? Surely, every human has a bad trait? Like, does she snore, or is she annoyin-”
“Absolutely not!” Giyuu looked offended at that. “My wife- my wife and annoying? No, never. Never ever-” he slurred his speech a little, waving his chopsticks threateningly in your face. “And how dare you say she snores! My pearl only ever releases the sweetest sounds known to man, but you-” he pointed at you angrily, “-you are hurting my wife’s honor, and I will fight you for that.” As if to prove a point, he jabbed his utensils into one of the meats on the plate and ate it, glaring daggers at you.
You were pleasantly surprised at the valiant defense of your character; it only made your husband more endearing, and you really, really wanted to continue teasing him - especially knowing he would remember this in the morning - but your bladder felt too full to sit still for much longer.
You excused yourself, which Giyuu ignored, still munching on the food with vigor. You kept giggling under your breath as you went to the lavatory, a sense of light schadenfreude making you grin wide, knowing he would suffer in the morning and regret his choices. Now however, you would enjoy the situation.
When you came back, your husband greeted you warmly, recognizing you at last. “Heyyy, my pearl,” he smiled warmly, leaning forward against the table to be closer to you. “I missed you - so much.”
“I just had to go to the toilet, dear,” you reminded him with a soft laugh.
His flushed face scrunched up into a pout. “There was someone insulting you while you were gone. I defended you though.” Giyuu sat up straighter, preening a little, waiting for your compliment.
“Thank you, dearest,” you could only grin at that. Oh, you so would enjoy him remembering the night come morning.
dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
Network: @enchantedforest-network
#drunk giyuu is my pookie#i love him sm okay#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x you#tomioka giyuu x reader#giyuu#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba fluff#demon slayer fanfic#kakushino
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𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 — 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, coercion, dub con, giyuu treats reader like a pillow princess ( derogatory ), degradation, virgin!reader, dacryphilia, the teensiest bit of dd/lg vibes if you squint, all characters featured are 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3
𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ pacify her by melanie martinez
“What would you do to keep your family safe?”
you hadn’t even stopped to think about it. the slayer was standing in front of you, azul gems cold and unreadable— awaiting your answer. you didn’t hesitate. “Anything. Just please, please help us.”
maybe you should’ve been more specific.
“Please be gentle,” you’d whispered upon watching him undress. you’d sat on your bed already stripped, hugging your knees as he did so, your eyes tracing every scar that littered his lean, toned abdomen. there were more than you’d imagined, some bruising that hadn’t yet healed, but he didn’t wince when he tossed his uniform aside. “It’s… my first time.” the apples of your cheeks were on fire, and you tried not to glance down at his manhood. it was a surprisingly difficult feat; you’d never even lain eyes on a naked man, and you were trembling, absolutely wracked with the anxiety of it all.
you look up at him, and he’s busy untying his hair. it erupts in thick, raven tresses that waterfall over his shoulders and down his back. those cold, blue eyes are zeroed in on you. “Be a good girl for me and I’ll be good to you.” was what came out of his perma-frown. your heart slammed into your rib cage in rapid thumping. he took a step towards you, and at first, you scooted back; you weren’t sure why you felt the need to recoil, other than how intimidating he was. he hardly spoke at all. the entire time you’d told him about the demon wreaking havoc in your village, he’d simply stared at you. now, as he was about to climb in your bed and take his compensation up front, you were getting cold feet. he stopped, brows furrowed, and wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. the movement glued your eyes to it, and they widened in awe. thick and heavily veined, nestled in a bed of dark hair and already sporting a girthy, red tip, he was a perfectly proportioned specimen, even to your untrained gaze. “You don’t have all day.” he mutters, running the pad of his thumb along one of the prominent veins, his eyes flickered to the window. it was still spilling daylight on to the bed where you sat, but it was orange and fading. “It will be nightfall soon. You want my help, yes?”
“Yes!” you blurted, nodding, “Please, please you have to kill it.”
his head tilted to one side, and he gave you an order. “Then, spread your legs and keep your end of the bargain.”
you do so, more or less ungracefully, opening your knees wide. this new position called for your hands to plant themselves on the mattress behind you, to steady yourself, and with the subtlest arch of your back, you offer your naked body to him. you couldn’t watch him stare at you, so you avert your gaze to the window, the setting sun bathing you in warm light.
in less than five steps, Giyuu was across the room and on the bed on his knees, grasping both of your thighs to pull you closer. you gasp, sliding up the ramp his legs provided. you could feel the warmth of his thighs as he drags you along them, the definition of muscled pads creating dips for you to ride over. the friction against your core was unexpected, and you elicit a soft and breathless sound. he arches a brow, watching your expression. “You’re sensitive.” he said, matter of factly, and you nod, sheepish, keeping your eyes far away from his. your knees were quivering, stuck on the outside of his biceps with your toes hardly grazing the sheets, the muscles in your legs were much too taut, making it impossible for the position to be comfortable. “Virgins always are.”
he’d practically whispered it, but you still heard it. it made you wonder if he did this often; did he travel from village to village, offering to slay the demons that lurked there and, in exchange, would deflower the innocent and desperate women like you?
you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you could even say, but nothing except a pitiful bleat escapes it. Giyuu had pressed the swollen head of his cock against your core, dragging it along between your folds, teasing your tender sex. you can’t help it, your eyes fall to the display between your bodies and you gasp, watching your netherlips slot around his thickness as it slides against you, the slit kissing your swelling clit each time. “T—that’s— what are you—“
“Shh,” it’s a rumble in his throat, his eyes shut as he just enjoys the sensation of grinding against you, “you’re going to soak me first.” one hand hooks around your lower back bringing your body closer to his, and the other keeps his cock steady and strong. “Your little cunt could never take me without help.” he was right, because the more you stared at the sizable tool as it rubs into you, the more you feel an ache in your stomach, how the hell was that supposed to fit inside you? his cock was shiny with your essence when he shifts under you, tensing his calf muscles to get a better angle, and after one, final rub, he pushes the thick tip between your lips, and it splits you open.
yipping, startled, your hands fly to his chest, giving him a faint push. the insertion burns, forcing you to open up more than you ever had before. “‘S… too… big…” your knees dig into his biceps when he ignores your whining and pushes himself deeper. “It’s…” panting, you shook your head, trying to squirm, but he’d got a vice hold on your body, keeping you in place, “not… going to fit…”
“It fits.” he replies, stern, and uses the hold on your back to press you forward, meeting his push, and your body yields with a hapless whimper from your trembling lips, stretching around his cock. “Feel that?” you nod, blinking tears back. “That’s me taking your innocence,” he insists, leaning close so his parted lips drag over your chin, not quite a kiss, but a growl vibrates in the back of his throat, “no one else will ever have you like I have you right now. Not the boy next door, not your husband on your wedding night. I own your body. It’s mine. Say that it’s mine.”
chewing on the delicate skin of your lip, you tried to control your breathing, but with each buck of his hips, he was pumping another inch into you, tunneling through uncharted territory, and your tight walls frenzy around the intruder. “It’s—“ you squint, humiliated and aching, “it’s yours, Giyuu…”
he moans, pleased, and digs his knees into the mattress to propel you forward, pushing you on to your back. your head hits the fluffy pillow, one hand landing beside your face whilst the other tries to keep a palm flat on his chest, but it slides on to his abdomen as he sits up at the join of your bodies. he grabs one of your legs at the ankle, allowing it to straighten along the shape of his chest, your foot hanging limp over his shoulder, and he nuzzles into it, kissing the silken flesh found there. for a moment, you’re caught up in watching the way he praised your leg, mouth forming seals over every inch he can, kissing it from ankle to knee, allowing the edges of his teeth to tease the sensitive area behind the knee. then, he cuts his navy eyes to your countenance, catches you staring, and you’re immediately sheepish. it felt as if maybe you shouldn’t be watching.
“You’re soft.” he says in response, hips falling into a slow, steady rhythm. this position opened you up to him, allowing him to delve deeper into you. his palm slides from your ankle to grip your thigh tight against his abs, using the leverage to bounce you forward into him, meeting his hips when they snap forward. you start to call for him, pressing your elbow into the mattress as you try to sit up, but his free hand grabs your chin, instead, urging you back down against the pillow. “Just—“ even his breath has started to tremble, chest rising and falling more heavily now, “just lay right there… Just take my cock…” his thumb shifts and traces your lower lip, eyes slitting as he stares down at you, “That’s all I need from you, just lay there, let me fuck you…”
your tongue pokes at his thumb when you whimper, eyelashes wet with fresh tears as he bottoms out and he pushes it into your mouth. at first, you want to reject it, spit it out, the foreign taste of saline on his skin, and the rough, broken pad that must be irreparable from all of the wear, but he only forces it deeper when you squirm and whine. “Suck on it.” he instructs, fingers digging into your thigh.
so, you do as you’re told, wrapping your lips around his knuckle, suckling hard on his thumb. when his pace picks up, and the creeping pleasure partnered with the predominant pain of being stretched for the first time mix together and overwhelm your senses, you’re mewling and sniffling, tears on your face, but you’re staring up at him, uncertain if you even want him to stop anymore.
he looks down at you, his inky locks hanging in his eyes, and he pushes himself hilt deep, stilling there, experimenting. your eyes roll back, but you clamp down around his thumb and suck harder, whining muffled. “I know, I know,” he mumbles. it was taunting, but utterly lacked any emotion, faux or not, other than lust. “I put it right in your guts, didn’t I?” you nod, looking up at him, your mouth sealed around his thumb, but you wince when runs his hand along your thigh and careens it over your belly to press down where he’s nestled. another pitiful, slurred cry. “Go ahead, make all those pathetic sounds you want.” he encourages, rubbing in firm circles, hips rocking, but he simply pumps at the same, incredible depth, as your head rolls around on the pillow and your back arches. “I’m going to cum just like this,” Giyuu shivers, rubbing the bump he’s created in your belly in tandem with his deep strokes, “balls deep in your virgin cunt while you suck on my thumb and squirm, ah, my pretty little crybaby.”
#giyu#giyu x reader#giyu x you#giyu smut#Giyuu#giyuu x you#giyuu x reader#giyuu smut#giyu tomioka#giyuu tomioka#demon slayer#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you
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Tomioka Giyuu never put much thought into his home. Never seeing a point to it anyways, since more times than not, he was out on missions instead. Barren walls and rooms that only ever had the basic furniture any home would need. The various rooms of his estate so empty your voice echoed and there was always a cold draft.
That was until you moved in. The place instantly became warmer. Monotone colors drowned out by warmer and brighter colors that brought life to the walls. Various plants that cleared the air around you and filled your lungs with a refreshing breath. The smell of a nice home cooked meal often wafting trhough the kitchen and the sound of your voice humming as you cooked. Giyuu never knew a home could feel like this. So warm and comforting. Comparing his home now to the one he lived in before you, really showed how depressing an empty one is.
Watching you decorate the house with an assembly of your own interests and his. Making it all work together and come out into one big, nice picture. Watching you clean the estate with ease as you sang to yourself to pass the time. Watching you tend to the garden and any plants surrounding the estate with a large hat to protect you from the sun. Watching you always making sure a fulfilling meal was prepared for your lover for whenever he came back home from whatever duties he had to take care of. The scent of you, the scent of your cooking, the fresh air, it all smelt like home. It brought a sense of calmness to Giyuu. Always made his chest fill up and squeeze.
Walking up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck. Placing a small kiss wherever his lips landed. Your sweet voice calling out to him with a little laugh, welcoming him home and telling him what you were cooking. Giyuu kept his grip around you and his face buried. Telling you how delicious that sounded in a low voice against your neck.
He loved this so much. He loved you so much. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He felt nothing could make this anymore perfect. You finally gave him a home. You were Giyuu’s north star. It overwhelmed him with happiness he thought he didn’t deserve. But the feeling you brought him was too good to ever let go, even if his insecurities told him otherwise. He never wanted to let you go.
#i crave nothing more than a domestic life with Giyuu ♡#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyuu x you#tomioka giyu x reader#kny fluff#kny fanfic#kny x reader#giyuu fluff#giyuu imagines#giyuu x reader#giyuu x y/n
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Memories of Before
Giyū Tomioka x gn!reader
Word Count: 1,1k
Warning: spoilers for the end of the manga
Ao3
Summary: Cutting your husband Giyū's hair had been just what the two of you needed to make peace with the memories of before.
On some occasions, you dearly missed being able to run your fingers through the long strands of your husband’s raven mane. When he sat on the patio outside your shared home, sometimes the light shone past his hair in such a way that made it appear as long as it had once been, reaching almost all the way to the small of his back in its spiky fashion. As soon as he shifted in his position, however, the illusion of what had once been would be lost.
You could understand why your husband had made the decision to chop off most of its length, or rather why he had decided to ask you to do it for him, following the battle against Muzan. Not only were memories of his childhood and time as an active demon slayer attached to his long obsidian hair, but it was also difficult to take care of now that he only had one arm instead of two. Washing it had become a chore more than anything, something he couldn’t do without your aid.
It had bothered him a long time before he finally asked you to cut it off one early morning.
You could remember that day rather vividly, the feeling of the cool metal scissors in your hand, the way his long hair felt in your other hand as you gripped it carefully and especially the noise of cutting through strand by strand, careful not to injure your husband in any way.
Before you had gone ahead and cut it off, however, you had asked, “Are you sure, Giyū?” It had been insensitive of you to ask, you knew that now when you looked back upon the distant memory. Your husband was not a man to make brash decisions without putting much thought into them. He was calculated and was able to keep a cool head when others weren’t able to. Doubting him felt like doubting all logical thinking, as though you were doubting his thoughtfulness and thoroughness.
It had not even taken Giyū a second to react. He nodded almost enthusiastically, his hair wildly moving along his head’s motion. You were close to having to calm him down, his excitement for a change obvious to you.
“Let’s do this then.” You muttered to yourself as you grabbed most of his hair with your one hand, only to then move the scissors toward it with your other hand. The first cut was the hardest, there was no doubt there. The sound the scissors made as they cut through his hair was disgusting, you thought. So much so that you shivered involuntarily, but still continued on with your appointed mission. You wanted Giyū to be happy, after all.
It wasn’t your first time cutting someone’s hair, and you also knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Countless times already, you had gone ahead and cut your own hair and even that of a fellow demon slayer, but given your husband an entirely new haircut? That wasn’t something you could say you had done before.
There was a first time for everything, after all.
With each more crunch of the scissors against his dry obsidian hair, more and more strands of it fell to the floor, adding to the hair already contrasting the light wooden floors of your home. The mop of obsidian hair that used to run along his back now settled on the floor, appearing so unfamiliar to you once you peaked down at it. The strands felt almost dead in your hands, long gone and let go of by your husband. Especially as strand by strand fell down, Giyū sat up straighter the more of the weigh of his hair he was relieved of.
Seeing him, your husband, with his hair so short, so different, left you a bit flabbergasted, admittedly. The gasp you let out was louder than intended and something you were unable to hide behind your hand.
With his deep blue eyes sparkling with a newfound livelihood, Giyū turned to look over at you. “What is it, my love?”
You looked at your husband and his new appearance intensely, the way his shorter hair gave him a more carefree appearance and his posture appeared more relaxed than slouched, all those things added up and made him look almost as though he were forming into a better version of himself. His skin did not appear as pale as it always did during his time as a demon slayer anymore and instead took on a more healthy shade, one that allowed for the current red flush of his cheeks to stand out as he looked at you, his lips parted.
At that moment, you realized, your husband looked as stunning as ever. It wasn’t that before his bold choice of a change that he hadn’t been beautiful, because you had always known for your husband to be the most beautiful man you have ever set your eyes upon. Following his haircut, however, there had been something that was as though his flame of life was anew, gifted a new spark to have it burn as bright as ever.
However, no word could describe how you felt when you heard your husband let out laugh after laugh, his laughter almost unstoppable and uncontrollable, something carefree lingering behind it. As though the ghosts and shadows of doubts tied to his back had been banished away, the Giyū he always could have been, was almost reborn and sitting there to shoot you a smile, inviting you to sit on the patio beside him.
You accepted his invite gladly and stepped out onto the patio to settle down beside the love of your life. Then, you rested your head onto his shoulder and let out a sigh, further snuggling into his side.
Teasingly, his head bumped against your head, a short laugh escaping your lips.
From the peripheral of your vision, you could see a hint of a smile playing on your husband’s lips. “Do you think Nezuko and Tanjirou will come by soon again?”
Giyū hummed, a happy-sounding noise you welcomed. “Maybe.”
“They couldn’t stay away from you for a month, even if they tried,” You told him. “I think they like you too much.”
His lips tugged up into a small smile. “You think so?”
Leaning against his side, you felt safe. Careful not to hurt him, you leaned upward and pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “Trust me, my love, I know so.”
Your hand meanwhile moved to rest in his hair, gently playing with the short strands of his vivid obsidian hair as though captivated by it. While usually your hand would move further down, combing through the previously long strands, now that wasn’t possible anymore. But you were positive, you could get used to the changes, especially seeing as how your husband was shining as bright as ever.
Hair was never just hair, it had been a larger part of him than you could have ever assumed of it to be. With it, the memories of before were chopped away and all you could do was look forward and welcome a brighter future with open arms.
#tomioka giyuu#giyuu tomioka#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x you#giyuu tomioka x y/n#tomioka giyuu x reader#tomioka giyuu x you#tomioka giyuu x y/n#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba imagines#demon slayer#demon slayer imagines#hashira x reader#water pillar#water hashira
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Pervert!
Ft. Giyuu, Shinobu, Obanai, Uzui, Gyomei, Sanemi, Rengoku, Mitsuri
Warnings: Panty/bra stealing, mentions of masturbation, just sexual themes overall. Afab reader. Minors and ageless blogs dni!
Summary: Just some headcanons! Not proofread!
GIYU TOMIOKA:
He’s so sly about it. Like the two of you will be hanging out and as soon as you turn around, he’s checking you out.
Though, he does feel a little guilty since you’re one of his closest friends (and his neighbor-), but at the end of the day, it won’t matter because he’ll be moaning your name until he passes out.
He’s the type to feel guilt in the moment and then think back on it later and be like “worth it.”
Giyu tells himself that it’s only natural to feel these types of things. (It is, right??) It kind of makes him feel less bad about it.
He walked in on you changing once and was never the same afterwards, I’m talking about the hardest hard on to ever befall a man ✋☠️
He’s not totally perverse though, because he respects your personal space and doesn’t try to hug or feel you up, but every time he gets off to you it makes him feel worse.
This man is borderline about to just get down on his knees and beg for you to be his because he’s so desperate for you.
However, he does enjoy catching sneak peeks of you when you’re in the shower or while you’re changing.
I mean you’re just right there so how can he not stare?
SHINOBU KOCHO
She sleeps over. All the time. Doesn’t even try to hide that she might be a women enjoyer.
She’ll do little things like “Y/N have you ever kissed a girl to see how it would feel? Why don’t we test it out to see if we’re lesbians hehe~”
You two also go skinny dipping together in the nearby lake frequently, and often times she’ll come up behind you and grope you jokingly (Because girl things amiright?)
This chick openly steals your bras and underwear. AND WEARS THEM. IN FRONT OF YOU.
SHE’S PUTTING SHIT DOWN AND YOU’RE NOT PICKING IT UP. LIKE THIS ISN’T PERVERSION, SHE IS HARD ON FLIRTING
She takes you out to places that are referred to as make out spots and likes to give you little sexual innuendos here and there, but you’re so oblivious it drives her up a wall
She literally offered to “demonstrate” how to properly give someone head AND THEN PROCEEDED TO EAT YOU OUT LIKE HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT
Recently, however, you’ve noticed that some of your vibrators (the ones that weren’t gifts from Shinobu) have gone missing
Not to worry, they’re in good care as long as they’re with Shinobu, and honestly, so is she.
She is shameless.
IGURO OBANAI
He’s so bbg istg, but he’s a DEVIL when it comes to you
He lives for hugging you and brushing his fingers against your ass, or dropping things on purpose and watching you bend over to pick them up
Speaking of bending over- this man has an entire photo album dedicated to pics of your juicy ass
He is definitely the type to get turned on at the thought of you finding that album; He just loves the riskiness of it all
He takes you out for drinks and gets you a little tipsy so he has a reason to ‘watch over you’ because it’s simply not safe for a girl like you to be alone and wasted
Obanai also has pictures of you sleeping, ones where you can see how tight your shorts are and ones where you can see your perky nipples through the shirt you’re wearing
He really can’t wait until you find those ones.
Once after a night out together, he went through your room while you were asleep on your couch and stole one of your vibrators
That night, he used it until the battery died, shaking from pure overstimulation and excitement. However, he never got tired of moaning out your name desperately
He does feel some form of guilt though, after all, what he’s doing isn’t exactly morally acceptable. And he would have made his move a while back if he wasn’t so scared about ruining your friendship
So for now it’s just useless masturbation, pretending it’s your pretty little lips wrapped around his aching cock
TENGEN UZUI
Has more self control than Shinobu, but barely.
He openly slaps your ass in public, placing his hand in your back pocket as you walk together and glaring down anyone who gives you funky looks.
He’s also a lightweight, so whenever the two of you go out for drinks, it always ends in him flirting (poorly) with you and asking you to join in on a foursome with Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma
He gets all whiny when you say no and offer for him to spend the night at your place so he doesn’t have to walk home alone, but then again, he’s gonna be at your house for a night 👀
The next thing you know, your favorite pair of panties are missing, along with your most worn bra and even your favorite perfume.
You ask him about it the next time you see him but he denies all accusations. Low and behold, the next time he spends the night, your bra and perfume return, but sadly, you’ll never see those panties ever again.
Whenever he’s wasted and at your place, he begs for you to bathe him to help him sober up, but the last time you did that, he got a hard on when you ran your hands down his broad shoulders.
Your friendship dynamic is the dumb idiot (Uzui) and the tired mom (You), so it’s often that you wind up taking care of him in situations like this.
However, unlike Obanai, he hardly has any photos of you, instead, he prefers to take sneak peeks while you’re showering
He gets even more painfully hard when he catches a glimpse of how the water runs down your gorgeous body, your head turned away and your ass facing him is the best sight he could ever behold.
But he’s not the type to masturbate alone, moaning your name like a slut, he takes it to Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, who are far from worried when he ‘accidentally’ moans out your name while they’re pleasuring him.
He’s sworn them to secrecy though, so they’ll never be able tell you how terribly he shakes when he calls out your name.
GYOMEI HIMEJIMA
Out of all of them, he’s definitely the one to feel the worst about it. Like, it goes against his views to be thinking of someone like this and it causes him to feel MASSIVE amounts of guilt.
Since he’s blind, he has to imagine what you look like, which isn’t hard because he had you describe yourself to him when you first met.
He sees you as the most perfect woman to ever grace the planet, he’s 100% smitten. He is legitimately in love with you 🙏🙏
The two of you share an apartment, and due to Gyomei’s strong desire for you, he’s considered moving out.
He hates it, he genuinely thinks it’s wrong to think of you in such a way. But Uzui and Rengoku told him that it’s totally normal for a man to think like that and not to worry about it.
There was one night when he had come back from work later than usual and had assumed you were asleep, only to hear you pleasuring yourself in your bedroom.
He may be blind but he sure as hell ain’t deaf. He’ll never be able rid his mind of how beautiful your voice sounded, of how lewd the noises you made were.
He’ll never stop picturing it either. There’ll be times when he’s at work and he thinks of you like that, immediately having to excuse himself and head for the restroom as soon as possible.
You just get him so unbelievably hard. It drives him mad how he can’t have you, and it creates a deep pit of shame in his stomach when he masturbates to your perfect being.
He can hardly hang out with you like he used to because he starts to think about how it would feel if he had you ride him on the couch, or if he bent you over the kitchen counter and made you scream.
While he dreams of fucking you endlessly, he’d die a happy man if you’d just kiss him.
SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
You’ve been tutoring his brother recently, and he just can’t get you out of his head.
Like he loves the idea that you’re so willing to help Genya, so maybe you’d be able to help him?
Or better yet, he could help you.
He’s so mean whenever you come over, openly bullying you whenever you’re trying to teach Genya. He hopes that he’ll get to see tears run down your beautiful face one day, but instead, you only return his comments with a smirk
The first time you did this, it caught him off guard entirely. Like you put his ass in his place with ease and it left him hornier than ever.
He dreams of you on your knees, tears in your eyes and he fucks your throat harshly.
Poor Genya can’t catch a break either- He literally caught Sanemi jerking off to a pic of your ass, literally traumatizing the kid.
You take no bs, so you’re used to going over to their place, immediately shutting Sanemi up and watching him scurry of to do lord knows what.
He has videos of you insulting him and often uses them to get off, but he’d never tell you that even if he managed to pull you.
As far as he’s concerned, he’s going to dominate you, not the other way around. (He just wants you to sit on his face.)
KYOJURO RENGOKU
He’s such a gentleman when it comes to you. But like- whenever you grab his arm and drag him around, or bend down in front of him to look at something, he starts thinking some unholy things-
He does have a couple upskirt pics, but only out of curiosity. He wanted to know what it would feel like to do something risky like that (and Uzui kind of talked him into it-)
He loves hanging out with you, but you’re so innocent. He’d make sexual innuendos if he wasn’t afraid of you asking what he meant. The thought of someone ruining your innocence literally makes him break out in a cold sweat.
(Oh but he gets off to the thought of him ruining your innocence all right.)
He often wonders what it would be like to make you moan in pleasure, how easy would it be to get you to cry out in pleasure?
You’re just so sweet though, and it only makes him feel like a horrible friend when you meet up after he’s been masturbating to your cute little face.
Honestly, he couldn’t care less about how you would make him feel, he practically strives to make you happy. He’d eat you out endlessly if you turned around and asked him to.
I mean it. He’d do it no questions asked, right then and there. As long as you’re satisfied, then nothing else matters.
But it does suck when he’s stuck humping a pillow, pretending it’s you. He’d much rather it be the real deal.
MISTURI KANROJI
MY GOD SHE’S LITERALLY JUST LIKE SHINOBU
She uses the fact that you’ve been best friends for a long time as a way to “test things out”
She also occasionally says things like “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to kiss a girl?” And “jokingly” flirts with you during sleepovers.
There was one time you two were dancing around and you told her you liked her jiggle physics, resulting in her flashing you
She once found where you kept your toys and judged you for how cheap they were. She mocked you for “not knowing how to pleasure yourself” and offered for you to use hers whenever you liked
You did take her up on that offer once, and she used it right after (cleaned of course)
She jokingly gropes you along with you groping her and just messing around with your sexualities in general. (Just normal gal pal things-)
Though, you’ve always taken her flirting as a joke, since you’ve always been flirtatious with your friends.
She loves cuddling with you on your couch when you watch movies, making fun of the characters and eating popcorn together.
She definitely takes a lot of advice from Shinobu, which is where she gets most of her confidence from. If it were anyone else, she would be a blushing mess.
She’s just a fan of physical contact in general. Like hugs and little cheek kisses in general-
My god she loves physical contact so much that like the slightest touch has her shivering a little. Full blown goosebumps.
#x reader#demon slayer#fanfiction#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba hashira#sanemi x you#shinobu x reader#giyuu tomioka x reader#uzui smut#uzui x reader#mitsuri smut#giyuu smut#sanemi smut#rengoku smut#rengoku x reader#rengoku x you#obanai x you#obanai smut#gyomei imagines#gyomei x reader#gyomei smut#kny smut#kny x reader#kny modern au#kny headcanons#demon slayer x you#demon slayer imagine#demon slayer smut
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Enjoy a peek at Giyuu learning how not to act like a virgin when with the person he loves in TGW Part II
“Well, if you want her first time to be special –”
“It’s not her first time.” Giyuu said bluntly before feeling his ears heat slightly as Tengen raised his eyebrows in surprise. “We – before the final battle –”
“Tengen’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Ah, so you just couldn’t wait, huh?”
“Well, obviously it’s hard for women to reach completion their first time, even when you properly prepare them –”
“Prepare?” Giyuu interjected, looking quizically at the Sound Pillar.
“Well, y’know, the stuff ya do before you actually put it in.” Tengen clarified, but he paled at the vacant look in the former Water Pillar’s eyes.
“Y-youd did prepare her, didn’t you?” Tengen demanded, sitting up straighter as his eyes narrowed.
Giyuu only stared back at him with that same, blank look, though Tengen could see the blush creep down his ears and to his neck.
The former Sound Pillar pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, eye screwed tightly shut. “Are you telling me,” he grit out. “That you just shoved it in without even stretching her out a bit first? Or at least making sure she was properly lubricated down there?”
Giyuu felt slightly affronted at his friend’s tone. “What do you mean by ‘prepare?’”
Tengen groaned. “Giyuu. Did you use your fingers or your tongue before you put your cock in her?”
He was silent as he thought for a moment. “Was I supposed to?”
Tengen stared in disbelief at the stoic ravenette, before dragging a hand over his face. “Y’know, you shouldn’t be intimate with someone until you know what you’re doing.” He grumbled. “Even Shinazugawa came to me for help before he got with his girl.”
Giyuu cocked his head in confusion. “It’s not like we planned it in advance – it just happened.”
The Sound Pillar’s eye widened in horror. “Giyuu,” he hissed, bracing his hand on his hip. “I’ve seen you change before – you’re not small.” He groaned, loudly at the confusion on his comrade’s face. “Unbelievable – that poor girl.”
“It’s not as though I was rough –” The Water Pillar countered, his tone indignant, but Tengen held up a hand to silence him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times my wives and I get together – I always make sure to prepare them beforehand. Thoroughly.”
Tomioka remained quiet, so Tengen asked, “Do you want to be intimate with her again?”
Giyuu nodded as enthusiastically as someone like Giyuu could, and Tengen sighed. He lowered himself to sit on the large boulder and crossed his legs. “You might as well get comfortable, Tomioka, because you’ve got a lot to learn about female pleasure – and that’s assuming Y/N even lets you back into her bed.”
#dw he becomes an expert#demon slayer#giyuu tomioka#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kny giyuu#giyuu x reader#giyuu x you#giyuu x y/n#kny tomioka#tomioka giyū#tomioka giyu x reader#kny smut
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Possessive Giyuu who can't stand the fact Tengen keeps flirting with you, his favourite kakushi / nurse.
Possessive Giyuu who is a lil bit yandere and a lil bit delusional and fuck you hard, to remind you who you belong to.
Possessive Giyuu who makes sure you can't walk the next day and your whole body is full of hickeys.
You're his, and you would do damn well to remember it.
- Beer anon 🍻
I think about a quarter of my asks are for Giyuu lol. Yandere is not my thing so it may be a bit more toned down than you wanted but I hope it's still okay.
Enjoy!!
Mine- Giyuu x fem!reader
Giyuu couldn't stand it.
The way you laughed at Tengen's childish humor as he sat in the infirmary bed made the water hashira's mood even more sour than usual. He and the sound hashira had both been injured on their latest mission– which he had initially thought of as something of a blessing because it meant he got to see you again. But he was hating every second of it.
"I'm just saying," Tengen smirked as you handed him his medication. "These bitter pills go down easier with a little bit of sweetness, and you're about as sweet as they come. I'll be back to my full strength in no time"
You laughed adorably and shook your head. "You're too kind, Lord Tengen."
Giyuu's hands gripped the bedsheets.
He couldn't even blame Tengen. He wasn't even sure that the sound hashira was actually trying to make a move on you. The man was happily married to three women he adored. Tengen was just a naturally charismatic and flirtatious guy, and you… well, he couldn't blame you for blushing. It's not like you were doing it on purpose.
And it wasn't as though Giyuu could legitimately claim you as his either. You'd kissed a few times and he'd used his fingers to make you cum once in the medical supplies closet, but that had all been over the space of a year and neither of you had ever discussed making it an official thing.
Still though…
His eyes were as still and serene as the deepest lagoon, but inside he was raging. It shouldn't matter, but it did. It mattered a great deal. You were one of the only good parts of his life, one of the only people he didn't feel like he had to be so closed off from. And tucked away safely in the infirmary instead of out there with the demons, you were safe enough for him to trust that you weren't about to die on him.
He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
"Tomioka-sama. Your medication…"
Tomioka… sama? So damn formal. So detached. He took the medication from your hand and swallowed it without a word, turning away from you.
Did you have to have such pretty damn eyes?
Later that afternoon, the sound hashira was napping, but Giyuu simply couldn't. Your footsteps padded softly through the infirmary, making his heart beat faster when it sounded as though you were coming close, only to fill him with disappointment when they faded.
No, he couldn’t stand this a minute longer.
He was injured but not so badly that he couldn’t walk. With a pained grunt he got out of bed and began his search for you. It only took him a couple of minutes.
“Giyuu,” you hissed, a look of surprise and annoyance on your face. “What are you doing out of bed?”
He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the storage closet, kicking the door shut behind him as he pinned your arms to the wall above your head and pressed a heated, claiming kiss to your lips.
The way your eyebrows shot up and then slowly relaxed as he kissed you, the way you were immediately silenced by his lips and your body went from startled stiffness to relaxed compliance. Oh yes…this is what he needed.
This was much better.
He pressed his body against yours, loving the way you moaned against his lips. His heart fluttered as you kissed him back; so soft and deep, your tongue caressing his as you sighed longingly. Releasing his grip on your wrists, his hands followed the curves of your body, clumsy in their desperation to feel every perfect inch of you.
Finally he pulled back and gazed into your eyes.“Do you want me to make you cum?”
You nodded and he could see the desperation in your face. “Yes.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” His kisses trailed down to your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin.
He worked open the buttons on your uniform as he began to suck your neck, harder and harder, intent on leaving a mark. He wanted every damn person who saw you know that you were his.
You moaned as he pinned your hips with his, his body heavy and warm against yours. “Giyuu…”
A low hum of approval emerged from him as his rough, battle-worn hands caressed your skin. "So soft. I could do this every day and never get tired of it." He kissed you fiercely, as his hands moved downward, slipping under your skirt.
His fingers circled your clit, and the corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk. You were so wet already, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, and knowing this made his dick painfully hard. Every little moan you made, every gasp or sigh of pleasure made him ache.
The way you gasped his name made him feral. He pulled his pants down to the tops of his thighs and took your hand, bringing it to his cock. The sight of your hand wrapped around it made his balls tighten.
"Stroke it for me," he whispered, tugging your earlobe with his teeth as he continued stroking your clit.
The moment you started to pump his cock in your soft hands, a shiver ran through his body. He was so damn needy for you, groaning as he rutted against your palm, baring his teeth as you swiped your thumb over his tip and coated it in his precum.
“You’re getting me so hard.” He couldn't stand it a moment longer. "I need to fuck you," he growled through gritted teeth.
"Mm…Yes."
"Yeah? You want me to fuck this pretty pussy and make you mine?"
"Gods, yes, Giyuu…" Your breath was hot and hard against his lips as he hoisted you into his arms and set your ass down on a table stacked with supplies.
He pressed his cock to your entrance, sliding it up through your folds and coating it in your wetness. “I want you to watch. I want you to see me take you.”
You did as he asked, your breaths coming in shallow pants as he pushed into you. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you made you both choke out wanton groans.
“So wet for me,” he grunted as he began to thrust into you. He pressed his teeth to his lower lip as his brow furrowed. He fucked you hard and fast, making damn sure you felt every inch of him pounding into you. You weren't about to forget him. You were going to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.
The table squeaked with every thrust, supplies falling off and rolling across the floor. He'd deal with that later. All that mattered now was that you were his.
The wet slap of skin on skin filled the supply closet. The sound of your wet pussy taking him was so beautifully vulgar it made his back arch.
You put your head back. "Oh Gods..."
"Yeah, I'm fucking you good, huh?"
"S-so good."
“Tell me you're mine. Tell me this pussy is mine.”
“Giyuu, please… I’m so close.”
He stopped thrusting, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as your muscles clenched around him. “No, that’s not what I said. Tell me you’re mine… say I'm yours. Those words, or you don’t get to cum.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, out of your mind with desire. “I’m yours.”
“Good… now, the next time someone is flirting with you, I want you to tell them that, okay? I want you to tell them you belong to me.”
You nodded, desperation cracking your voice. "Yes."
He leaned down, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you. "Who do you belong to?"
"You."
"Who fucks your pussy better than anyone else ever could?"
"You do, Giyuu."
He smirked, thrusting hard into you and pulling a cry from your lips. His fingers gripped your hips, pulling you onto him with all his hashira strength. "Good. Fucking. Girl."
Your muscles pulsed around his cock as you came apart, your hands grasping at him as he kept on fucking you throughout your orgasm. He wasn't much further behind you, pulling out and shooting hot ropes of cum all over your thighs and your belly, staggering as he rode the waves of his release.
As he came back down to earth he pulled you upright, his lips crashing against yours as he gripped the back of your neck. "I'm gonna remind you who you belong to tomorrow," he whispered. "And then every day after, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. "I might have forgotten by this afternoon though. You might have to drill it into me."
Giyuu laughed, cupping your face in his hands. "Deal."
Yes... this was much better.
#giyuu tomioka#giyuu smut#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x reader#giyuu x you#tomioka x y/n#tomioka x you#tomioka x reader#demon slayer giyuu#demon slayer tomioka#giyu x reader#giyu smut#tomioka smut#giyu x you#giyu x y/n#giyu tomioka
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ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢɪʏᴜ︎⋆˚✿˖°
⤑ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Giyuu Tomioka x GN!reader
⤑ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: mention of sex (just in the beginning), cursing, fluff
⤑ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Giyu takes care of you after you come down from your high
“Fuck- I’m close~” Giyuu moaned as he kept on pounding into you. He kept on abusing your hole making your eye roll back into your head and your fingers ache from gripping the sheet so hard. The sound of skin slapping and you guys moans filled the room making it easier for you to release. “Shit-” Giyuu groaned as he pounded in you a few more times before cum, filling you up once more.
He huffed as he laid on top of your chest. You guys stayed in this position for a while, with Giyuu still in you. “Did…did it feel good?” Giyuu asks hesitantly. He felt you cup his cheek, making him look at you. “That was amazing” You said, still coming down from your high. His cheeks flushed at your words, making him turn his head so you wouldn’t see. “You really think so?”. You chuckled as you tried to get up, wobbling as you balanced your upper body. Turning Giyuu’s face towards you, you pecked him on the lips, moaning as he pulled out. Some of his semen escaped, running down your legs. You flipped over so that you were on top of him now, laying down. He pulled you in close by your waist. “Can we stay like this for a bit?”
“Of course, whatever you want”.His hands drag on your body. Memorizing the curves of your body.Your breath stuttered every time his hands went lower. Playing with his hair, Giyuu blinked slowly at the feeling. “Trying to put me to sleep now?” You chuckle at his somewhat rough voice. “Maybe…is it working?”. He stole your hand from his hair and kissed it gently making your cheeks flush. “No…”. He rested your hand on top of his chest along with his hand. “Ready to take a shower?” You nodded, making a humming sound.
Swiftly, Tomioka got up after you moved to the side. “Do you think you could stand?” You got up, wobbled a little, then leaned on Giyuu. “Unless I crawl there… I dont think I'll be able to walk to the bathroom “ You chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s fine, i could take you there”
“Wait- Giyuu, you don’t hav-” Before you knew it you were already in his arms. You clutched onto his shoulder at the sudden movement. “You could have warned me, dummy” Giyuu held you close. “Sorry..” He said before walking towards the bathroom. He turned on the light and sat you down on the toilet seat. Then plugged up the shower and turned on the water waiting for the water to fill up. After it was at a reasonable height, Giyuu picked you up once again and set you in the bathtub and sat right behind you before taking the pipe off.
Your body leaned on his, feeling abs on your back. His hands found a way to your thighs as you moved around, trying to get in a comfortable position. The water sloshed around with every movement you made. “Careful, you might just get me hard again~” He whispered in your ear while squeezing your thighs. Your body tensed up as your cheeks flushed once more. Brushing it off, you leaned on him once more engulfing his hands in your, kissing the tips softly.︎⋆˚✿˖°
I hope you enjoyed (人´∀｀)｡ﾟ+
#giyuu tomioka#giyuu x reader#kny giyuu#demon slayer giyuu#kimetsu giyuu#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#kny x reader#kny smut#kny fluff#anime x male reader#x male y/n#anime x you#fanfic#x male reader#x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#anime#x male smut#x reader fluff#anime x reader#female reader#fem reader#x you#gender neutral reader#smut
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