Summary: Giyuu's confused—why everyone is so shocked that you're his wife?
Warnings: fluff, emo Giyuu(kinda), who is also comfused as hell, wife!reader x husband!Giyuu and lots of fluff.
Characters: Giyuu Tomioka
A/N: I loooove this emotionally constipated boi :3.
Giyuu doesn’t understand why people think he’s strange.
He doesn’t talk much, yes—but he speaks when needed.
He doesn’t smile often, but what reason is there to smile when the world is still this full of blood and ash?
He does his work. He follows orders. He returns alive. That should be enough.
And yet—
Every time he walks into the mansion, the other Hashira go quiet.
Sanemi looks away. Shinobu’s lips curve like she’s holding back something. Mitsuri beams and waves like he’s a rare creature who wandered out of the woods.
He doesn’t mind. Not really. He’s used to being misunderstood.
But lately…things have gotten worse.
Because of you.
He first met you years ago.
A small Wisteria Crest house at the foot of a mountain—the air smelled faintly of herbs and tea leaves. You greeted every wounded slayer with the same soft tone, the same careful hands.
You didn’t treat him differently when he came in bleeding and silent.
You didn’t ask him why he never talked.
You just said, “Welcome home. Sit, please.”
He remembered those words more than he should have.
Now you’re his wife. Quietly. Secretly. A simple ceremony witnessed by Ubuyashiki-sama himself. No fanfare, no announcement.
Just you, smiling under the wisteria trees.
He still doesn’t understand why you agreed to it.
Sometimes, when he watches you brew tea, your sleeves brushing against the wooden counter, your face looking soo calm, kind—even pretty, he thinks maybe he doesn’t need to understand.
The first time it almost comes out is stupid.
You send him off with a small bento box—rice shaped like tiny fish, wrapped neatly in cloth.
He doesn’t notice Shinobu’s sharp gaze when he sets it beside him at the mansion during the meeting.
“Cute lunch, Tomioka-san,” she says, that poison-sweet smile of hers in place. “Did one of the Kakushi make that for you?”
“No,” he answers plainly.
“...Oh?”
He doesn’t elaborate.
Shinobu’s smile tightens. Mitsuri leans forward, curious. “Then who made it, Giyuu-san? It’s so cute!”
He looks down at the fish-shaped rice ball. He can still hear your voice that morning—‘Don’t skip meals again, alright?’ which forced his heart to flutter.
He simply says, “Someone.”
They don’t let him live it down for days.
Sometimes, after missions, Giyuu goes to the Wisteria House—your house, the one you choose to live in.
It’s quiet there—a peaceful one, not like the depressing one his estate is swallowed by. He leaves his blade by the door and sits where you tell him to.
You wrap his wounds with steady hands, humming softly. Sometimes he talks—only to you. Sometimes you tease him gently for his serious face, and he blinks at you, confused at how you can make something inside him unclench so easily.
When you smile, the corners of his mouth twitch upward before he even realizes it.
The next day, when Tanjiro spots him smiling faintly to himself, the boy looks alarmed.
“Giyuu-san, are you okay? Did something good happen?”
“...No,” he says.
He doesn’t understand why Tanjiro looks even more concerned.
One afternoon, you deliver some herbs to the Butterfly Estate. You greet the girls there with polite warmth—and when you pass Shinobu, you bow respectfully.
She almost doesn’t recognize you until you turn—and Giyuu is standing right behind you, carrying your basket without a word.
“He insisted on carrying it. I told him it’s fine.”
Shinobu stares between you both, her brow lifting, mouth curling into something dangerously amused.
“Oh? How gentlemanly of you, Tomioka-san.”
He doesn’t see what’s funny about it. He’s your husband. Of course he’d carry the basket.
Later that evening, Mitsuri corners him outside.
“Giyuu-san!” she gushes. “Who’s that lovely woman? The Wisteria one? You two looked so sweet together!”
He blinks at her. “…She’s my wife.”
Mitsuri freezes.
“…Your…what?”
“Wife,” he repeats.
Her scream echoes through the estate.
By the next day, everyone knows.
Sanemi storms into the training yard like a thundercloud. “You’re married? How the hell did that happen?”
“I asked,” Giyuu says.
“You—” Sanemi chokes on air. “And she said yes, TO YOU ?”
He nods.
Shinobu looks like she’s seconds away from fainting from suppressed laughter. “Tomioka-san, I must admit, this is rather...shocking news.”
Mitsuri’s the only one genuinely happy. She hugs you the next time she sees you and gushes about how cute the two of you are together.
Tanjiro, meanwhile, nearly bows himself into the ground when he realizes you’re his superior’s wife.
“Giyuu-san! I didn’t know! Congratulations!”
Giyuu just blinks. “It wasn’t a secret. I just didn’t say it.”
“...That’s the definition of a secret, Giyuu-san.”
He still doesn’t get it.
That night, back home, the world is quiet again.
You’re sitting outside beneath the wisteria vines, a book in your lap. The evening wind moves gently through your hair.
He joins you, sitting beside you with his sword laid down beside him. For a while, there’s only the sound of crickets and your soft humming.
Then you glance up at him.
“So…they know now?”
He nods once.
“And?”
“They were…loud.”
You laugh softly—a heart melting one, tilting your head toward him. “Did they tease you?”
He looks at you—at your calm, gentle eyes, the small smile tugging at your lips—and lets out a slow breath in weariness and to calm his raging heart.
“Yes.”
You reach over, brushing his sleeve lightly. “You’ll survive.”
He doesn’t say it, but when you rest your head on his shoulder and the wisteria petals fall around you both, he thinks this—this quiet, ordinary peace—is something he will fight to survive for.
He still doesn’t understand people very well.
But he understands the way your laughter feels like sunlight.
He understands how the scent of tea and wisteria means home.
And he understands that when everyone else talks too loudly, the quiet between your breaths is where he finds peace.
So maybe it doesn’t matter if no one understands him.
Because you do.
And that’s more than enough.
Mid-terms are pinning me down at my table, giving me backsho-. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.
Demon slayer characters x tsugoku reader (platonic) who died in battle
Trigger warning: death implied (heavy angst)
Sanemi
The moment he finds out, he doesn’t believe it. He gets angry — not at you, but at everyone else. At the Corps, at the demon who took you, at himself for not being there.
He’s the kind of person who’d storm to where it happened, refusing to accept that you were gone until he sees it for himself.
When he does, he doesn’t cry right away. His hands shake, his breathing becomes erratic, and his knuckles bleed from how tightly he’s clenching his fists.
He mutters things like, “You idiot... I told you not to overdo it,” even though he knows you were just doing your duty — the same way he would’ve.
Insists on helping with your burial- he keeps digging until his hands bleed but he feels nothing.
For days, he’s impossible to approach. He trains himself until his body gives out, almost punishing himself for surviving.
He keeps your uniform haori folded in perfect condition. He never admits it, but he checks it before every mission, like a silent promise not to let your death be meaningless.
Eventually, when he visits your grave, he crouches down and finally lets a few quiet tears fall. “You did good, kid. Real good.”
Sometimes, when he’s out on missions, he swears he hears your voice calling his name — and for a moment, he lets himself believe it’s real.
Obanai
Obanai reacts with complete stillness at first. His face goes blank, his tone clipped and unreadable. But Kaburamaru starts tightening around him — the snake can feel his grief before anyone else does.
He blames himself, immediately. If he’d trained you better, if he’d gone with you, if he’d been faster.
The guilt becomes obsessive.
He isolates himself even more than usual, talking to almost no one but Mitsuri and Kaburamaru.
When Mitsuri gently tries to comfort him, he can’t even respond — he just turns away and mutters something like,
“They were too kind for this world. They didn’t deserve that kind of death.”
He keeps one of your hairpins/charms/tokens tied to Kaburamaru’s scales, something small to remember you by.
He makes sure your name is spoken with respect among the Corps. If anyone disrespects your memory — even as a joke — they get the sharp end of his tongue.
If he gets another tsugoku, he makes sure to be a little more detached… not wanting to go through the same heartbreak he went through with you. He'd also train them much harder to be prepared for anything.
During missions, he sometimes catches himself saying things you used to say, or using a technique you created. He never acknowledges it out loud, but it’s his way of keeping you alive through action.
Giyuu
Giyuu doesn’t react outwardly at all. The others think he’s detached, but the reality is that he’s completely hollowed out inside.
When he first hears the news, he just… stops moving. He can’t speak for a long time, and when he does, his voice is barely audible.
He goes to the site of your last battle alone. He sits there for hours, looking at the damage, tracing the path of the fight — trying to understand how it happened.
When he finds your sword or any piece of your gear, he keeps it. Quietly. He cleans it after every battle as if it were still yours.
He blames himself deeply. He tells himself he should’ve been there, that he should’ve taken that mission instead.
The survivor’s guilt hits him like a wave he can’t swim against. Again.
He doesn’t talk about you much, but when he does, it’s with the same flat tone — except there’s a subtle warmth in it. “They were strong. Stronger than I ever told them.”
If Tanjiro or another younger slayer asks about you, he’ll train them a little differently, maybe a bit more gently, remembering what you struggled with or excelled at.
It takes him a long time — maybe years — to finally say goodbye. When he does, he visits your grave on a quiet morning, leaves a single flower, and murmurs: “You did well. Rest now.”
And of course… he stitches a part of your haori into his… a promise to remember you forever.
Chapter Summary: You find out you’re pregnant after Giyuu breaks up with you.
Word Count: 972
Content Warnings: second person POV, angst, secret relationship, mention of sex, breaking up, mild cursing, mention of pregnancy
Author’s Note 1: Hello, everyone! This is my first time posting a fanfiction on Tumblr, and my first x reader fanfic!
Author’s Note 2: Feel free to inform me in the comments of any spelling/grammar errors you find. I’m also open to constructive criticism as long as you’re not rude about it.
Author’s Note 3: The first scene takes place two days after Tanjiro and Nezuko’s trial. The second scene happens after the Hashira Training Arc but before the Infinity Castle Arc. I don’t remember how much time passes between those two events in canon, but this fic is canon divergent.
Links to other chapters: Chapter 2
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1
You’re pregnant.
Two months along according to Aoi.
What the hell are you supposed to do now? You don’t know the first thing about raising a child.
It’s times like this that you wish your parents were still alive. You know they would support you through this; they would hug you and say the right words to calm you down and make you feel better.
The idea of raising a child alone…
It scares you.
Maybe you should tell Giyuu…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flashback
“You’re staking your life on the slight chance that a demon can restrain itself, Giyuu!”
Giyuu’s blue eyes are cold as he looks at you. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with you.”
Your eyes fill with tears, but you refuse to let them fall. “Do you have any idea how devastated I would be if you died?”
Giyuu’s eyes seem to close off even further. It’s such a contrast from the soft, tender look he usually gives you when the two of you are alone.
“There’s nothing between us to make you feel that way.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Nothing? There’s no way he means that.
“So all the time we spent together was nothing to you? The meals we shared, the conversations we had, all the times we made love and embraced until I fell asleep, that meant nothing to you?”
Giyuu’s eyes show a spark of an emotion, but it’s gone before you can identify what it was.
His voice is empty as he repeats himself. “There’s nothing between us.”
You slap him so hard his face turns to the side with the force of the blow. “You heartless son of a bitch!”
You turn on your heel and leave his estate.
You don’t look back.
End Flashback
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You shake your head to get the memory out of your mind.
No. Giyuu had his chance. If he won’t commit to you properly in a romantic relationship, there’s no way in hell he can commit to being a good parent.
Looks like you will have to figure this out on your own.
But first things first, you need to request a meeting with Master Ubuyashiki.
It’s time for you to retire from the demon slayer corps.
You sigh shakily. You wanted to become strong enough to stand by Giyuu’s side, to be his partner in life and on the battlefield.
So much for becoming a hashira…
And you just reached kinoe rank on your last mission too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10 months later
You wake up to the sound of knocking on your door.
You rub the crust from your eyes as you sit up in your futon. “Yes?”
Mimiko, the proprietress of the wisteria house you live in, slides open your door. “A couple of slayers came in last night. The doctor already treated their injuries. I need to get started on cleaning their uniforms. Are you able to cook breakfast?”
You pull your arms above your head to stretch. “You know you’re my boss, right? You’re supposed to tell me to get started on breakfast, not ask me.”
Mimiko’s eyes look past you to the three month old baby in the futon next to yours. “You have more important responsibilities than cooking food for slayers. If you need more time, I can cook breakfast, and you can do the laundry later.”
You smile at Mimiko’s thoughtfulness. You do not regret asking her to stay here ten months ago.
“Yuuji won’t wake up for a couple hours. I can cook breakfast.”
Mimiko gives you a grateful smile. “Thank you. They’re in the room next to the garden.”
You quickly change out of your sleeping yukata into one of your work kimonos. You gather your still-sleeping infant, and Mimiko helps you tie him carefully to your back. Yuuji wriggles a bit, but doesn’t wake up.
You thank Mimiko as she heads outside to the laundry well. You quickly brush your teeth, wash your face, and tie your hair up in a high ponytail before you go to the kitchen to start cooking omelette rice. You make a small portion for yourself first and eat, then make two larger portions for the slayers. If there’s one thing you remember from your time in the corps, it’s how much the slayers around you could eat.
Your son wiggles on your back; he’s starting to wake up. It won’t be long before Yuuji needs a feeding or a diaper change.
Arranging the plates and cups of tea on the two breakfast trays, you hurry to bring the trays to the room the slayers are occupying.
You announce yourself once you’re outside their door. “I have your breakfast.”
You hear a youthful voice say, “Come in!”
You use your foot to slide the door open…
…and freeze on the spot.
There he is, Giyuu Tomioka, and another slayer—a boy with a flame patterned mark on his forehead—sitting in the center of the room in sleeping yukatas.
It takes you only a second to regain your composure. If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, it’s your ability to act normal in awkward situations.
You walk into the room and place the trays in front of them. “Apologies for the wait. I hope you enjoy.”
The boy smiles brightly at you. “Thank you, Miss.”
You feel Giyuu’s eyes bore into you; his gaze makes your skin prickle in irritation. It seems he’s too surprised to say anything, or maybe he’s actually reading the room for once, and realizing now’s not the time for a conversation.
“The proprietress will come by in half an hour to collect your trays.”
In your rush to leave the room, you turn around without thinking, unintentionally allowing them to see the infant strapped to your back.
You hear Giyuu’s breath hitch.
You scamper out the room and shut the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note 4: The way I portray Giyuu behaving during the breakup is not how I think he would actually act, but for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell, I depict Giyuu as a bit of a jerk. Don’t worry though! It doesn’t last long. See you all next chapter! 😄
summary: you almost die on a mission protecting giyuu, and after recovering, he avoids you completely because he cannot fathom the idea that you put your life in danger for someone he clearly deems not worthy of saving. when you finally confront him, he breaks, confessing he'd rather you hate him than die for him.
tags: angst, comfort
the rain had started sometime after midnight. thin at first now steady, almost angry as if the very sky had chosen to mourn.
you weren't sure how long you'd been awake, hours maybe longer. time had gone soft around the edges, dripping apart like watercolor, leaving you stuck in a daze of pain, drifting in and out of consciousness. the room around you smelled faintly of incense and damp wood, heavy with humidity from the storm.
your bandages itched. your ribs and chest ached, and with every deep breath, there was a sharp stab that reminded you that you were alive.
the kakushi said that you were lucky. you weren’t so sure. suddenly, the door to your room creaked quietly, so subtle that had you not been awake, you'd have missed it. someone slipped inside.
but you knew that presence before you even heard the footsteps.
giyuu.
or at least, the echo of him.
because he did not come near your bed; he moved as a ghost would without noise, without barely stirring the air, glad to remain on the fringes of life.
he stopped around the doorway. you could sense his gaze upon you, though the darkness hid any expression he might have had.
he didn’t say a single word. he had not spoken to you at all since it happened.
you forced your dry throat to work. “giyuu…?”
the shadows shifted, but he didn’t move closer.
your heart tightened.
giyuu wasn't cold; he wasn't emotionless-not the way people thought, at all. under that stern quiet, he was soft-too soft, too easily wounded, too scared of the weight of his own heart.
but this wasn't his usual distance. this was avoidance. fear. something deeper and sharper. something born out of guilt.
you pushed against the mattress, fighting to sit up despite the burn in your chest. “giyuu, why won’t you look at me?”
his breath caught. it was a small sound, hardly loud enough to be audible, but it was there.
a crack in his armor. still… he didn’t move.
so you tried again: "please… come here."
silence stretched long and thin like a blade. at last, he exhaled. a whisper. “you shouldn’t be awake.”
your pulse jumped. his voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it in hours or days.
“i wanted to see you,” you murmured. “i waited.”
“there’s nothing to see.” he swallowed and even that sounded painful. “you should rest.”
but he wasn’t leaving. he was never going to leave. you knew that. you would lie in bed at night and hear footsteps outside your door. felt the door shift, as if someone had opened it just enough to check you were still breathing. he had been coming here every night. just never close enough for you to reach.
you weakly grasped your sheets. "giyuu. please."
there was a long pause.
then what felt like an eternity, his reluctant form stepped deeper into the room, and moonlight outlined his figure as he came to your bedside. his hair was damp, either from the rain or from washing the blood off, his haori clinging to his shoulders.
you didn't realize how tightly your chest had been constricting until now.
he finally sat beside you, keeping distance between the two of you, but he didn't meet your eyes.
your stomach twisted painfully not from your injuries, but from the distance in him, the way he stared at the floor, the tension in his shoulders and the trembling in his fingers. he had never looked so unreachable. or so broken.
“giyuu.” you whispered, “why won’t you talk to me? why won’t you even look at me?”
again, his breath hitched. still no answer.
you slowly reached out, your hand shaking, and brushed your fingertips against his wrist. it was a light touch, barely there, but he froze, as if it burned him from the sensation.
“im alive.” you whispered, your voice sounding desperate.
he flinched.
“i know,” he said at last so softly. “that’s the problem.”
your blood ran cold. you stared at him, your brain working to decipher the meaning behind the words. "what…? how is that a problem?”
he didn't respond. his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the wooden floorboards. outside, the storm rumbled, creating an illusion that the house itself was holding its breath.
he looked… terrified. terrified of you. no, that was wrong, terrified for you.
“giyuu,” you said softly, “talk to me.”
“it should’ve been me,” he breathed.
your heart lurched painfully.
“that demon—” his voice cracked. “it was meant to kill me. not you. you threw yourself in its path.”
you had. you did not regret it.
he finally lifted his head. and his eyes-
gods.
you’d seen giyuu quiet, you'd seen him distant, you'd seen him angry in that calm, controlled manner he had. but you had never seen him look like this. his eyes were raw, rimmed with purple shadows of sleeplessness. not shining he never cried where people might see, but full of an aching sort of sorrow, as if your survival hurt him.
"giyuu." you breathed.
“you shouldn't have saved me,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “you should've let it kill me.”
the words hit you hard as if someone punched your ribs. “that’s not true,” you protested immediately. “i—
"it is." he shook his head, staring at you with a kind of desperation you didn't know he could feel. "you almost died because of me. you’re lying here broken, hurt because you interfered. because you protected me."
“i saved someone i care about!” you snapped, much louder than you'd intended.
he recoiled as if struck.
you softened your voice. “giyuu… why can't you understand that?”
"because i don't deserve it." the words ripped out of him. "because people who try to help me die. because i hurt them. because I'm not worth-”
“stop.” you demanded.
he didn't. he breathed "i cannot afford to lose any more," fists clenching in his lap. "and you almost—you almost-" he couldn’t finish. he broke.
a choked sound escaped him, and he bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping himself together.
your heart broke at the sight of him breaking down in front of you.
he was not avoiding you because he was angry. he was avoiding you because he blamed himself. because he thought that your pain was his fault. because he thought you were dying due to him.
you reached up with both hands, ignoring the pain, and cupped his cheeks. his eyes widened, startled at the touch.
"look at me," you pleaded.
he met your eyes.
a mistake.
you saw what he had been concealing.
the fear, the guilt, the crushing, suffocating belief that he didn't deserve to live while good people died around him.
“giyuu,” you whispered, “i chose to save you.”
“you shouldn’t have.”
"i would do it again."
his breathing stuttered.
“you can't keep pushing me away every time you get scared,” you said, your thumbs brushing the wetness at the corner of his eyes, too faint to be tears, but too noticeable to ignore. “you can't decide for me who's worth saving.”
“you don’t understand—”
"then explain to me then.” you begged.
he let out a shaky breath. “i wasn't supposed to survive. not sabito. not any of them. for years now, i’ve lived on borrowed time. you shouldn't have wasted your life on me."
anger flared hot in your chest on his behalf.
“giyuu tomioka,” you said voice shaking. “you are not borrowed time, not a mistake, not a burden.”
he looked away. his lips parting as if he wanted to argue.
you didn't let him.
“you’re someone i care about. someone i choose. someone worth saving.”
his breathing faltered.
“you think you're protecting me by staying away,” you continued in a soft tone. “but you’re hurting the both of us right now.”
his eyes squeezed shut then, a shaky exhale left him-half a sob, half a surrender.
“you almost died,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i thought―gods, i thought i lost you. i've been sitting outside your door every night praying you'd breathe. i don't― i can't―”
overwhelmed, he stopped again. he was at a loss for words.
so you gave him yours.
“giyuu,” you said softly, “i’m here.”
he opened his eyes.
you tugged weakly at his haori. "so come here."
he hesitated for a moment. his breath trembled, his hands shook. he then leaned slowly, forward, laid his forehead against your shoulder, making sure not to touch your wounds. his body shook against you. he was shaking so hard.
you wrapped your arms around him, wincing at the pain but refusing to let go. he froze for a split second, then melted into you, silent, fragile, desperate.
his warm breath brushed your neck. "i’m sorry," he whispered. "i’m so sorry."
"don’t apologize," you whispered, stroking his hair. "just-just stay with me."
his hands clutched your clothes, his grip tight as if anchoring himself before he drifted away completely.
for a long time neither of you said anything.
the storm outside had softened, faded to a gentle patter against the roof. time moved more slowly once more, but this time it felt grounding instead of suffocating.
it was giyuu’s voice that broke the silence.
“please don’t do that again,” he whispered. “please don’t risk your life for mine.”
you smiled sadly into his hair. “then don’t make me watch you die.”
he stilled.
it was the truth in your voice that left no room for argument. you felt him breathe in, not sharply but deeply, as if for the first time in days.
“i cannot lose you." he said.
“you won’t.” you promised.
his hand tightened on your sleeve. “you can’t promise that.”
“i can promise i won’t leave you.” you countered. “even if you try to run.”
he huffed weakly. a quiet wet sound that might've been a laugh. “then i’m already caught.” he whispered.
you stroked his hair once more, softly and in slow motions.
“good.” you murmured.
his breathing evened out against your skin, and you didn't know if he was crying giyuu never really let himself cry, but the trembling gradually eased into a fragile, exhausted calm.
“giyuu?” you whispered after a while.
“…Mm?
“you’re worth saving. every time.”
he went still in your arms. completely still.
then, softly, almost reverently:
“…thank you."
and somehow, despite the pain that pulsed through your body, despite the heaviness hanging in the room, you felt something inside you soften.
because for the first time since that horrible night, he wasn't running anymore. he was here. with you. and as he finally lifted his head and met your eyes, the grief was there yes, but so was something new something fragile, something hopeful, something that did resemble for the most part, love.
you smiled faintly. “you’re allowed to stay you know that right?”
his expression softened, quiet and overwhelmed. he reached out and, after a moment's hesitation, brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers, as gentle as rain.
"then," he said quietly. "i'll stay."
you leaned into his touch.
“good,” you whispered. “i was scared you wouldn’t.”
he breathed out, his body shuddering a little.
"i was scared that you wouldn't want me."
slowly, you blinked, your heart aching in another way now. "you idiot."
he looked startled.
you smiled weakly. “you’re the one i want to come back to.”
his eyes widened. and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity—
giyuu smiled. it was small, barely there, so tentative it might have been a trick of the moonlight. but it was real, and it was beautiful.
“rest,” he whispered. “i’ll stay till you fall asleep.” you nodded; eyelids falling heavy, breathing slow. his fingers laced softly with yours as you sank into the pull of sleep — gentle, cautious, as if though in pledge he didn't yet know how to say.
and when at last you slid into the stillness of the dark, the last feeling was his thumb stroking your knuckles, light, slow, alive. he stayed as he remained there for the whole night.
a/n: watched the infinity castle movie a couple days ago (late ik) and it made me fall in love with demon slayer once again so i decided to write for my favorite man giyuu 🫶🏽. (i apologize if he’s a bit ooc).
Usually, the quietest hours of the night are safe haven for the souls of the lost.
Not tonight, though.
Rain taps steadily against the wooden eaves, thunder thrashing like a ghost's echo against the window.
It's as if Giyuu was back to the battlefield, to that fateful night. He can almost hear the clashing of swords, the jaggedness of Sabito's rushed commands, even the metallic scent of blood is starting to fill his nostrils again, a phantom sensation that twists his stomach in knots.
Grief never listened to the pass of years. Not his.
In a secluded, shattered corner of his heart, he still feels like that naive boy from years ago—too scared, too weak. Suddenly, he had started to flinch at the flash of lighting again, at each reminder that passed through his eyes.
However, no matter how deep he drowned in the sea of his guilt. He is not alone, not anymore, for you had entered his life to pull him out of the abyss.
You were staying for the night. Eventually, you woke up to his side of the futon empty, the sheets cold and creased.
You wander through the house, wrapped in a blanket, expecting to find him getting water, but instead you spot him sitting cross-legged on the engawa. He still hasn't noticed you, far too lost in his misery.
His eyes always managed to soften whenever he looked at you, his sapphire gaze docile like the gentlest of seas. Yet now, with the dead crawling up his back, there are just two deep wells, staring at the choreography of droplets against soaked earth.
His lips are pursed, a straight line pressed tight. His hands are curled into trembling fists on his thighs, a vivid testament of the inner turmoil within him. He doesn't apply strength, there is not a hint of rage in his composure, yet there is cracks.
He carried miles you couldn't walk with him. That realization hits you like a physical blow that leaves your ribs burning.
Nonetheless, you force yourself to put one foot in front of the other.
“...Giyuu?” You inquire, your quiet voice seeming to hum in time with the storm.
His head immediately whips toward your direction, eyes widened.
A heartbeat of silence. You can almost see the gears turning inside his head. “...You're awake.” His voice is aloof, dry.
“I could tell you the same thing.” You reply back, a lopsided smile playing on your lips.
A quiet, almost imperceptible huff escapes his lips, the sound lost amidst the symphony of the storm. “I'm fine.” He states, averting his gaze.
Of course he's fine. He's been fine his entire life.
“Couldn't sleep?” You ask gently, unhurried.
His brows crease in a soft, thoughtful frown as he searches for words. Yet he finds none, as if the words themselves lodged at his throat like knives.
Then, in a hesitant mumble, his voice echoes through the room again. “...Not really.”
That is all you get, but it is enough for you to fill in the blanks by yourself.
You fell quiet—not speechless, but silently pensive.
You can't just erase the hell he has been through the same way you would pull up weeds from a rotting garden.
Yet you can simply stay, make him feel that he is deserving of a shared breath.
The sound of wooden floorboards sighing beneath your feet breaks the rain stained silence as you close the distance.
You still beside him, sitting down until your thigh brushes his cold one, studying the way the wind blows rain onto the engawa, the way he doesn't fight against it.
Without a word, you unfold the blanket you had wrapped around yourself, and quietly drape half of it over his shoulders, as if shielding him from not just the night, but the hands of those who haunted him.
There's a crack of thunder, until he seems to breathe, truly breathe. The sound is ragged and unkempt, almost unconscious, as if a ray of light had just breached through the walls of his void.
Then, as stiff as ever, his gaze shifts toward you. Yet it is not just a casual glance. His eyes had softened, soothed sapphire drowning out the howling of the storm.
You can't help the subtle smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Your body moves out of instinct, out of pure, unharnessed devotion for this broken man sitting beside you.
With your other hand still clutching the fabric of your shared blanket, your arm slides up until your gentle fingers brush his face, cupping his cheek in a careful, loving gesture.
His eyes are completely locked into yours, the dark clouds that had loomed over his orbs had spread out. Now, that gaze is just the vivid reflection of a calm pond lulled by the graceful glide of a swan.
You lean in, gently pressing your lips against the spot below his jaw in a reverent, chaste kiss, watching the sharp line unclench against you. You move to his cheek, then his temple, then his nose, showering him in delicate gestures of affection that send shivers down his spine.
“I'm here.” You whisper in a weak thread of sound, your breath warm and undeniably existent against his brisk skin. “And I'm not going any further.”
Inside Giyuu's head, your vow was a bittersweet strike to his heart.
He was a man cursed, stained by darkness and the blood of others. He doesn't deserve an anchor like you.
Nonetheless, he can't help but cling to the shrine of light that manages to keep his torment beyond the door.
He groans. An unconscious, deep sound that leaves his throat as the walls of his restraint crumble under the weight of your tenderness.
Then, with hesitance, a strong, almost worshipful arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close until you feel his hammering heartbeat against your own. The contact has desperation in its marrow, a yearning for your warmth so strong that seems to melt the lingering frost in his soul.
Your lips are now ghosting along his neck as you lean against him, nuzzling softly, as if impregnating your presence into his skin.
The night deepened as the storm roared with deliberation. The world outside was still loud. Yet in the sanctuary of your arms, the rain had become a mere drizzle against his sandals.
The pulse of silence hangs between you, full of unspoken promises that settled in his heart like a soothing balm. Until the rustle of fabric echoes through the house as you shift to stand on your feet. “Come on.” You peeped with lighthearted demand.
Giyuu almost flinches at your movement, a widened pair of sapphire orbs staring back at you. “...What?” He mumbles confused.
“Back to bed.” You announce without further elaboration. “We don't have to sleep if you can't.” You try to reassure.
Despite his initial doubt, Giyuu follows shortly after, his broad, calloused fingers intertwining with yours as you drag him to the silken altar of your shared futon.
Neither of you say anything else for the rest of the night. There is only the whispers of far off thunder against the window, witness of a fellow lost soul finding its way back.
The rain doesn't stop, shifting from cracking howls to showers of purification in an endless cycle.
The storm isn't over for him, it isn't fixed.
Yet tonight, he doesn't have to carry it alone. And that is enough to knit back the broken pieces.
Because you don't just try to file down the ragged edges of his heart,
you remind him that he has one.
⌗┆ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HII 🥹 soooo I love this melancholic vibe but I really don't like how it turned out AUGHHH anyway next post is smut 🥳🥳🥳
⌗┆ ➵ m.post / ➵ requests are open!
⌗┆lace div by byuvly, the transparent divider is sourced from muffiinss but I'm not sure about its owner 😭
Note: Based on this request:
"Hiii your story is so gooddd!!! can i request about demon slayer man found out about self harm or suicidal thoughts? If its too sensitive for you , you can decline it dont worry.."
⚠️Read responsibly!⚠️
The wind off the cliff was colder than usual. It carried the smell of rain and pine, sharp and clean, like the word had been scrubbed empty. You sat at the edge, legs swinging freely, eyes on the river far below.
It felt so peaceful for once, recklessly so.
You plucked a pebble and tossed it out, watching it disappear and counted in your head how many seconds before it hit anything.
Giyuu saw you from the trail- a dark shape against the pale moonlit sky, you were too close to the drop. His chest tightened before his mind caught up.
He didn’t call out right away. He just walked closer, steps soft against the ground. You didn’t turn until he was near enough that his shadow fell over you.
“Giyuu,” you murmured, smiling faintly. “You scared me.”
He didn’t answer right away. He stopped a few feet away, eyes fixated on where you sat. “You shouldn’t sit there,” he said. The words came flat, too quiet, but there was a strain underneath. A tension he couldn’t hide.
You tilted your head, a breeze sweeping strands of hair across your face. “It’s so peaceful,” you said. “You can see everything from here. It’s like…” your voice softened. “It’s like the world stops for a second.”
He followed your gaze but didn’t really see it- just the outline of your body against the drop, how your thighs barely grazed the cliff’s edge, how your hands gripped the final border.
“Move back,” he said.
You smiled a little, teasing. “You always sound so serious.”
“Because you’re too close, you’re being reckless.” he replied, sharper this time.
You blinked, surprised by the edge in his voice. “It’s just a cliff. I’m fine. I’ve been through far worse than a fall, you know?”
He exhaled slowly, but the air left his lungs tight. “You’re not fine when you keep saying things like that.”
You frowned. “Like what?”
“Like you don’t care what happens to you.”
You raise a brow, “You think I’m going to just… slip?”
“I think you stopped caring if you do.”
Your lips parted. You wanted to deny it, but the look in his eyes- steady, soft, full of something you didn’t recognize- made the words dissolve in your throat.
He slowly stepped closer, his haori catching the wind. For a second, you thought he might grab your arm. But instead, his hand hovered near, waiting, open and patient.
You swallowed. “You worry too much.”
He hesitated, then said quietly, “Apparently I don’t worry enough.”
Something about the way he said it- fragilely, like it cost him to admit- it made your chest ache. You turned your gaze back to the river, blinking hard.
“You’ll catch me if I fall, won’t you?”
He stepped closer, “Don’t joke about that.”
You chuckled softly, but your voice wavered when you said, “I wasn’t.”
When you finally reached out and placed your hand in his, his fingers curled around yours instantly, not pulling- just anchoring.
He guided you away from the ledge, every step slow, like he was afraid you might vanish if he moved too fast.
When you finally felt the grass between your sandals, you spoke, voice small. “You can let go now.”
“Okay,” he said, but didn’t.
You almost smiled at that- almost. The tension in your chest was still thick, the kind that wouldn’t dissolve no matter how deep you breathed. “I wasn’t trying to…” you trailed, shaking your head. “I just wanted to feel calm.”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead he reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His knuckled lingered there a second too long. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said at last. “I’ve… felt that too.”
You finally looked up at him. “But you’re still here,” you said quietly.
He nodded. “Because I realized something. If I go, it wont make anything better. It wont change what hurts. If anything, it will cause more pain to others.”
His eyes were steady, blue like the river below- deep, sad, but calm.
“You’re not weak for feeling like this,” his gaze flickering down to your joined hands. “You don’t have to stay here alone anymore.,” he muttered.
You looked up, half smiling. "Then what? You'll sit with me instead?"
"If that's what you need." His tone was calm, but his eyes- those impossible deep, gentle eyes- said everything he couldn't.
You turned away before he could see your blush, muttering something about him being dramatic. He only hummed in reply, quiet and unreadable, standing beside you not letting go.
It was barely sunrise when you headed to his home. The mountain air was always chill against your skin but you climbed anyway- the small string of prayer beads clutched tightly in your hand.
He had given them to you weeks ago-pressed them into your palm when you said you couldn’t sleep. When you confessed that your thoughts had turned against you. “They help me ground myself,” he said softly. But they hadn’t helped. If anything, the silence around them had made it worse.
When you reached the top, your breath was uneven. The courtyard was still, faint wisps of incense came from the small alter nearby. He was kneeling there, shoulders straight and still, with the faintest mist dampening his hair.
“Gyomei,” you called quietly, your voice carrying across the wood.
He turned toward you, head tilting slightly, as if he was listening to your footsteps. “You’ve come early,” he said, voice low and calm as always.
You stepped closer, “I…came to return these.” You held the beads out, their surface slick with the sweat of your palm. “I thought they’d help me clear my mind, but they didn’t. I can’t-“ your throat tightened- “I can’t quiet it.”
He didn’t move to take them right away. “You sound tired,” he said softly.
“I am,” you murmured, your eyes dropping to the ground. “Tired of waking up. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending it’s gonna get better.”
A long pause stretched between you, only the faint chirps of birds spoke between you.
Finally, Gyomei rose. The motion was silent, but you felt the shift in the air, the weigh of his presence. When he stood before you, he was immense. Impossibly stead in a way that made you intimidated.
He extended a hand. “May I hold them?”
You nodded, placing the beads in his palm. They looked small in his hand.
“Do you remember why I gave these to you?” He asked gently.
You hesitated. “Because they help you.”
He shook his head, his blind gaze lifting toward the warmth of the sun. “Because the reminded me of the weight I carry, and that I am still strong enough to bear it.”
You swallowed hard, voice breaking. “I don’t think I am.”
Hs hand rose slowly until his fingers brushed your shoulder and you froze, the calloused weight was grounding. "Then let me carry it for you for a while," he said softly.
Tears welled in your eyes, "I don't deserve that."
"You deserve peace," he said simply. "Even if you cannot feel it yet."
"You shook your head, shoulders trembling. "You don't understand-"
"I do." His voice broke then, just slightly. "I have stood where you stand now. When I lost everyone I loved, I thought the world had ended. But the world keeps turning. Slowly. Softly. It waits for us to return."
Your breath came out uneven. "You really think there's still something left in me worth saving?"
"I know there is." he whispered.
And then you broke- shaking. He gathered you into his arms, one hand resting between your shoulder blades, the other cradling your head like something sacred.
His comfort made you break down more, sobbing against his chest as you felt the weight of it all drench you.
He lowered his head down and spoke softly. “Then stop trying to endure it,” he said, "Breathe through it. Let it move through you. Even the strongest will exhaust themselves eventually.”
Tears burned behind your eyes, “I’m so tired, Gyomei. I don’t want to keep fighting anymore.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Then do not fight,” he said simply. “There is no victory in denying pain. Sit with it. See it. Offer it compassion instead of resistance.”
He pressed the beads back into your hand, curling your fingers around them. His hand stayed there for a long time, warmth ensuring you.
“Stay here,” he murmured. “Breathe. Feel the air. You are still part of this world."
You nodded weakly, voice shaking. "I'll try."
"That's all I ask."
He hadn’t seen you in months.
At first, he told himself it was fine- missions came and went, schedules collided, but when even Senjuro's letters came back unopened, a quiet unease began to gnaw at him. And when the other slayers mentioned not seeing you, he knew something was wrong.
He didn't expect the smell.
When he slid open the shoji, the sharp sting of sake and ash met him like a slap. Empty bottles littered the floor, one toppled over onto the tatami, soaking into old reports and mission papers. You sat before the fire, your figure dim and distant, eyes vacant, lips pressed tight around whatever thought kept you still.
He froze in the doorway. You had never drunk before. Not once.
"(Y/n)," he said softly, inviting himself inside. His voice was still gentle but the usual brightness gone. "Are you- ...you shouldn't-"
You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze. "You shouldn't be here."
He didn't stop moving until he was crouched down beside you, his haori brushed broken glass. "And you shouldn't be doing this," he said simply, patient.
Your laugh came out sharp and bitter- unrecognizable to him. "Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Rengoku. I've earned the right to stop caring."
He glanced around the room- the scattered reports, the dusty surfaces, the faint smell of smoke- and something inside of him cracked. This was the same atmosphere that haunted his father's room, the same quiet decay of someone burning alive in grief.
"Give me the bottle," he said, quieter now, but his tone left no room for argument.
You pulled it closer, knuckles white around the neck of the glass. "No."
"(Y/n)."
When he reached for it, you yanked back- too fast and hard. The bottle slipped and shattered against the floor. The sound was piercing. A sharp sting bloomed in your palm, blood welling up where a shard had sliced you.
"Damn it-" you hissed, clutching your hand, but Kyojuro was already moving.
He grabbed your wrist, using his own palm to put pressure around the wound until he could find some bandage. "Enough," he said, not angry but steady.
You glared at him with teary eyes. "You can't possibly understand. You've never failed, Kyojuro. Never. You're always parading with a smile, with something to be proud of. You don't know what it's like to see children die screaming and wonder why you got to live instead."
His jaw tightened as well as his grip. At first, his instinct was to defend himself, to speak of the blood he’s seen, the comrades he’d buried. But as he looked at you- your trembling figure, the broken spirit in your eyes- something shifted. This wasn’t about fairness. It wasn’t even about pain. It was about weight. Weight he’d been strong enough to bear, but one that had finally crushed you.
He realized that his optimism must have felt cruel to someone who’s drowning.
"You're right... I haven't failed a mission. But I've watched people destroy themselves after surviving one." His thumb brushed your pulse to ground you. "I won't watch you do the same.” He gently placed a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “You think giving up will end the pain, but it doesn’t. It just passes it to someone else… to me, to Senjuro, to anyone who loves you.”
You tried to speak, but your voice broke instead. The first sob slipped out ungracefully, followed by more. He caught you before you fell, arms wrapping around you in a desperate but gentle hold.
"Cry," he whispered against your head. "Scream if you must. Beat me if you must. But you will not disappear."
He stayed until your shaking slowed. Then with the patience of someone who'd done this before, he heloed you to your feet. "Come," he said quietly. "You'll bathe. Then I'll take you out to eat, you feel frail."
You wanted to protest but he already eased you up and guided you down the hall, hand still wrapped around yours that bled earlier.
"Why are you doing this?" you whispered.
"Because I know what it looks like when someone gives up," he said. "I watch it happen to my father every day. I couldn't stop him... but I can stop you."
His tone softened. "You matter to me. And I won't let grief turn you into something you're not."
The training grounds are always empty by evening, slayers gone for patrol with their crows fading overhead. You sat at the edge of the engawa, a bowl of untouched rice cooling in your lap. It had been days since you'd last eaten, but the thought of forcing it down made your stomach twist.
You poked at it with your chopsticks, then set them aside entirely.
A quiet voice came from behind you. "You've lost weight."
You stiffened. "Obanai."
He stood a few feet away, his usual posture straight and rigid, bandages neat around his face. Kaburamaru wound lazily around his shoulder, flicking his tongue out at the scent of food.
"Your uniform's loose," he added, stepping closer. "Your blade arm's weaker. You can barely lift your sword without shaking."
You didn't look at him, "I'm just tired."
"You're not tired." His tone cut clean through the dusk. "You're starving yourself."
That made you lift your head- barely. "I'm not."
"You are," he said, pointing a finger at you. "Don't lie."
The words landed harder than you expected. You pressed your lips together, looking down at the bowl again. "I just don't feel hungry lately."
"That's not an excuse," he said. "You need strength to fight, and right now, you look like you'd collapse if the wind blew too hard."
You tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. "Don't exaggerate."
He didn't smile, however. "I'm not."
Silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Kaburamaru slithered down his arm, curling around his wrist, his tongue flicking toward you curiously.
Obanai's gaze didn't waver. "Are you dumb?"
Your eyes snapped up, offended. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." His voice rose just slightly. "You think the Corps can afford to lose another because you decided to stop taking care of yourself?
You gaped at him. "Why do you care?"
He stepped closer, his tone dropping. “You’re a Kinoe. Almost a Hashira. Act like one. You didn’t crawl your way through hell just to die because you forgot how to eat.”
You scoffed. “You say that like you don’t do the same. When was the last time you finished a full meal?”
“That’s different,” he said.
“Of course it is.” You gave a bitter laugh. “When it’s you, it’s discipline, but when it’s me, it’s weakness.”
He didnt’ answer immediately. He stepped closer instead, his sandals stopping just in front of you. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter- not gentle, but tight, as if he were forcing it through gritted teeth.
“Because I know what I’m doing to myself,” he said. “You don’t.”
You frowned, confused, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve already made peace with what I am,” he said simply. “You haven’t.”
That struck something in you. You looked away but he didn’t stop.
“We’re not the same,” he went on, his tone softening. “You don’t deserve to tear yourself apart just because the world tried to.”
You exhaled shakily, staring down at the untouched rice again. “You’re making it sound so simple.”
“It isn’t,” he said, crouching down to your level. His eyes lifted to meet yours. “But eating something is.”
You gave a small humorous laugh. “You’re bad at this.”
He shrugged lightly. “So I’ve been told.”
For a moment, the silence between you stretched- not hostile but heavy with things neither of you knew how to say. Kaburamaru slithered down his sleeve and flicked his tongue against your skin.
Obanai’s eyes followed the movement. “He likes you.”
You snorted softly, “Probably just the smell of food.”
“Maybe,” he said, leaning closer.
The closeness startled you. He held your gaze long enough to make your pulse quicken before looking away again.
Then, he stood- reaching forward to grip your rice bowl to push it towards you. “Eat.”
You rolled your eyes but finally lifted the chopsticks, taking a small bite. You swallowed, glaring at him. “Are you happy now?”
“Ask me after you finish the bowl,” he replied turning away.
The house was too quiet for a home that pulsed with laughter and life. The wives were out for the morning market, and Tengen’s hand stilled in the middle of the task he wasn’t meant to be doing.
He hadn’t gone rifling. He’s just meant to fix the hinge on your vanity drawer, one of those little things he always promised to get around to. But when it stuck, when he tugged it open, the jewelry box inside had shifted. And an envelope, thin and folded, slipped loose.
At first, he smiled. You used to always leave little notes for him around the house to find. But when he picked it up he noticed the yellowing edges, the ink blots through the parchment. He opened it up and froze before finishing the first line.
The paper trembled in his hand as he read it.
It wasn’t dramatic nor poetic- just plain words. You wrote about exhaustion, about silence, about feeling like a shadow in your own home. You said you didn’t blame anyone. You just wanted peace.
By the time he reached the end, his chest had gone hollow. He read it again, slower, his thumb tracing the edge of the page, as if touching it could undo whatever had been written.
He didn’t call the others. Didn’t make a scene. He waited until the house was quiet and found you alone, folding laundry near the engawa.
“Hey,” he said, voice low enough to make you look up.
You smile faintly. “Hey yourself.”
He held up the letter, “What’s this?”
The color drained from your face. The towel in your hands slipped.
“Tengen-sama- where did you- “
“Your jewelry box.” His tone wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t playful either. “You wanna tell me why I read something that sounds like you’re saying goodbye?”
You stood frozen for a moment, jaw trembling. Then you turned away. “That’s not-” you started, voice cracking, “it’s old. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Old or not, you wrote it.” he took a slow step forward, expression unreadable. “You said you wanted to disappear.”
“It was months ago.” You lifted your hands helplessly, trying to breathe. “I-I forgot it was even there.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
Your throat tightened. “I don’t have to give you one.”
Tengen exhaled slowly, but there was something steady under the calm. “You do when it’s about this.”
You crossed your arms defensive. “I was lost, all right? I felt like I was disappearing.”
His tone softened, but his jaw clenched. “Disappearing?”
You nodded weakly. “You were all so full of life. I tried to keep up, but every time I laughed it felt like it belonged to someone else. I wasn’t angry. Just… tired. Like I’d become a decoration in my own home.”
He went still and the silence stretched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you always look happy,” you whispered. “and I didn’t want to ruin that. I thought it was better to just fade quietly than to be a burden.”
His eyes darkened, the letter crumpling slightly in his hand. “You really think I wouldn’t notice if you disappeared?”
You swallowed. “You would’ve kept going. You always do.”
His jaw tightened. “Not without you.”
He stepped closer then, slow but certain, and skimmed the paper. “Tell me why you kept it. Why not throw it away? Were you saving it?”
Your lips parted. “No-I-“ you stuttered, the lie collapsing. “Sometimes. When it gets too much, I still feel that way.”
His shoulders eased with a slow breath, kneeling before you, placing the letter on the wooden floor. “Next time you write something like that,” he whispered, “don’t hide it in a drawer. Give it to me.”
Tears blurred your vision, “You’d hate reading that.”
“Maybe, but I’d rather face your pain than never know it existed.”
He then picked up your letter, smoothing the creases with his thumb before passing it to you. “Go on,” he said quietly. “Tear it. Let it go.”
You hesitated, then met his eyes- and tore it down the middle. The sound was small but final.
His shoulders eased, “Promise me,” he said.
You nodded, voice barely above a breath. “I promise.”
Your breathing stung with the tang of blood and cold air. You'd gone too far ahead again- swinging like you were trying to erase something, not kill it. The demon's head was already gone, yet you slashed again, and again, breath heaving, hands trembling from exhaustion.
Sanemi's voice cracked through the chaos. "Enough!"
You barely had time to turn before his hand caught your wrist mid-swing. The impact jolted your arm, sword clanking uselessly to the ground. His grip was bruising, breath ragged.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" he barked. "You could've gotten yourself torn apart!"
You blinked, startled. You stared at the fading demon then scoffed weakly. "Relax. I handled it."
"Handled it?" His voice rose, raw and disbelieving. "You're covered in blood, your blade's in two, and you think this is handling it?"
You turned away, shoulders stiff. "It doesn't matter."
Something in his chest went cold. "The hell it doesn't."
You started to walk, but he yanked you back, not hard enough to hurt, but enough that you felt his calloused fingers tremble around your wrist.
"Stop," he muttered. "Just stop for a damn second."
You sighed, not meeting his eyes. "What's gotten into you lately? You're acting like-"
"Like what?" he snapped, too fast. The silence that followed was heavy, too heavy. His jaw flexed as he forced the rest out quieter. "Like I give a damn?"
Your breath caught. Your voice came out more defensive than you meant to, "Do you?"
"Obviously." His tone dropped to something rougher, almost hoarse. "You think I'm gonna let you throw yourself at danger like you've got nothing left to lose?"
You blinked hard, a shaky laugh escaping. "You're reading into it, Sanemi. I just did my job."
He stepped closer, so close that your breath hitched. “Don’t lie to me,” he said softly. So unlike his usual bite that it made you freeze.
When you didn’t answer, he swore under his breath and let go, dragging a hand through his hair. He looked away, the muscles in his jaw tight. “You scare the shit out of me, you know that?”
You blinked, startled by his words, by the way his voice cracked around them. “I- what?”
He exhaled through his nose, rough. “Forget it.”
“No” you pressed, confused. “What do you mean.”
“Nothing.” He bit out. Then, quieter, “Just… stop making me chase after you like this.”
Your lips parted, the faintest tremor running through your fingers. “I didn’t know you cared that much.”
He scoffed, looking anywhere but at you. “Yeah, well. You don’t know a lotta things.”
The wind shifted, brushing between you. His hand twitched again, like he wanted to reach for you but couldn’t. So instead, he muttered, “You’re not dying on my watch. Got it?”
You nodded faintly, and he stepped back at last- face hard, eyes softer than he’s ever let you see.
“Good,” he said roughly, turning toward the path. “Now quit staring and move your damn feet.”
You followed, shaking your head about his temper- but you couldn’t shake the way his voice had sounded when he said you scared him.
And he couldn’t shake the image of your blood on the ground.
—
Note: Why do I always write a drama episode with Tengen? I swear.
Oh my god, I just read your post about the reader's jealousy x Giyuu and I can't stop thinking about a reverse version where Giyuu distances himself from the reader out of jealousy. It seems repetitive but also so good 👀
Am I Enough?
Giyuu Tomioka X Reader
Summary: You've gotten closer to some of the other male Hashira (maybe a little too close), which makes your boyfriend Giyuu Tomioka question if he's good enough for you.
Author's Note: Sorry I took so long to finish this request, I've been busy with school and life (I've also had like zero motivation). But I hope you enjoy! (Reader is a new addition to the Hashira in this.)
The sun was shining brightly over your training ground as you lunged forward with your wooden blade, looking for an opening to break the Flame Hashira's defense.
"Hah! Splendid, your skill has improved significantly!" Rengoku's voice roared loudly within the training ground, paired with the sound of wood on wood.
He parried your strike with a sharp clack, his golden eyes wide and brimming with genuine excitement.
You were breathless, your uniform clinging to your back, but you couldn't help the wide grin that pulled at your lips. "I’ve been practicing that move for weeks, Rengoku!"
"It shows! Your spirit is as bright as a summer morning!" He laughed, a deep, belly-shaking sound that seemed to chase away any lingering fatigue.
He stepped in close, not to strike, but to adjust your stance, his hand firm and warm against your shoulder as he guided your center of gravity. "Keep that core tight, breathing even, and no demon will ever stand in your way!"
On the other side of the training ground stood Giyuu, watching quietly. He had come to surprise you with a small pouch of your favorite dried sweets.
A gesture he spent all morning overthinking, now they just felt like dead weight in his pocket.
He watched how easily you were able to speak to Rengoku, and how he managed to make you laugh almost effortlessly.
Whenever the two of you trained, you never laughed or smiled that much; the air was often quiet, filled with awkward silences.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized Rengoku was his polar opposite.
Cheerful
Kind
Confident
Warm
He was neither of those things.
Which only made him wonder even more...
Is someone like Rengoku the kind of person you deserve?
Someone who can reassure you, make you laugh, and who makes it almost effortless to talk to them?
Would you be better off with someone like that?
Giyuu didn't wait for you to finish. He turned away, the sweets forgotten in his pocket, leaving your training grounds as quietly as he had arrived.
He had already convinced himself that he was getting in the way of whatever you had going on with Rengoku.
The sun slowly began to set, painting the day in bruised purples and deep oranges, the warmth of the day leaving the sky completely.
He walked aimlessly through the estate, the small pouch of dried sweets clicking against his thigh with every step a rhythmic reminder of a gesture that now felt foolish.
He found himself standing by the koi pond, the water still and dark. He stared at his reflection, noting the sharp, tired line of his mouth and the dullness in his eyes. He wasn't like Kyojuro.
He didn't have a voice that could carry across a battlefield to bolster a soldier's heart, nor did he have the kind of warmth that made people gravitate toward him like moths to a flame.
He was just...
Quiet
Lonely
Cold
And definitely not deserving of your love.
He questioned what you even saw in him to begin with.
"Giyuu?"
Your voice broke the silence; you sounded slightly breathless, as if you'd been tirelessly looking for him.
Or perhaps just tired from your training session with Rengoku.
"I missed you at the training grounds," you said, standing beside him. You were still in your uniform, your hair a bit messy from the wind, smelling of dirt and pine. "I thought you were coming by today."
Giyuu finally looked at you, his expression carefully blank, the mask he wore when the weight of his own thoughts became too much to carry.
"I was there," he said, his voice lower than usual. "But you were busy. I didn't want to interrupt."
You tilted your head, searching his face. "Interrupt? I was just finishing up with Kyojuro. You could have joined us. He actually asked where you were."
Giyuu’s hand drifted to his pocket, his fingers curling around the fabric of the pouch. "There was no need. You looked… happy. You were laughing."
There was no accusation in his voice, but to Giyuu it felt like he was admitting to his own failure.
He didn't know how to tell you that seeing you laugh with someone else made him realize how rarely he heard that sound when it was just the two of you.
He wished it were him who made you laugh and smile like that.
"Of course I was laughing, Kyojuro is—"
"He is everything I am not," Giyuu cut in softly, finally meeting your gaze.
The intensity in his blue eyes was startling, filled with a sudden, raw vulnerability that made your heart ache.
"He is loud, he is bright, and he knows exactly what to say to make you happy."
He pulled the pouch of sweets from his pocket and held it out, not looking at you.
"I have nothing to offer you," he murmured. "What do you even see in me?"
The silence that followed his words was heavy, broken only by the gentle sounds of the water against the stones of the pond.
You looked down at the pouch in your hand, then back up at the man who looked like he was bracing for an impact.
You stepped closer, reaching out to cover his hand where it gripped the pouch. His skin was cold, mirroring the evening air, but he didn’t pull away.
"I didn't go to the training grounds to see Kyojuro," you said, your voice a soft tether in the dark. "I went there to find you. When you weren't there, the day felt unfinished."
"I missed you," You said softly, making eye contact with him.
Giyuu’s gaze remained fixed on the water, his jaw tight. "He is easier to be around. He makes you happy. I don't… I don't know how to do that."
You're slightly shocked hearing him finally say it out loud
Is this really how he's felt this whole time?
"You don't have to do anything, Giyuu." You begin "The world is loud enough already, with you I can just... breathe and that makes me happier than anything else ever could.
"I'm with you because I love you, and I enjoy your company, and you make me happier than anything on this earth, so stop thinking otherwise."
You gently took the pouch from his hand, our fingers brushing.
"You spent all morning thinking of something that would make me happy. You walked across the estate just to bring me this. How can you say you have nothing to offer when you give me the one thing I value most?"
"I spent the whole walk here thinking of reasons why you'd stay," Giyuu confessed, his voice barely a whisper.
"And I couldn't find a single one that he couldn't provide better. I thought if I just… stepped away, it would be easier for you."
"Giyuu, look at me."
"I don't want 'easier,'" you said firmly.
"I want you. I want the man who is quiet because he’s observant, and the man who cares enough to overthink a gift of sweets. That isn't a burden to me. It's the part of you I love most."
All the tension he had felt earlier finally left his shoulders, and he let out a long, shaky exhale.
He slowly reached out, his hand trembling slightly, before his palm found the side of your face.
His touch was hesitant, as if he were still afraid he might wake up from a dream, but when you leaned into his warmth, his grip turned sure.
"I don't know if I can change," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I don't know if I can be the person who makes you happy."
"You don't have to change," you promised, reaching up to rest your hand over his. "Just stay."
Giyuu nodded, pulling you into his chest while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'll stay... if you'll have me," he murmured against your neck.
"Always"
With that, he felt every insecurity melt away
There was just the quiet of the estate, the koi pond
and
You…
You are the only person who saw him for who he really was and still chose to stay.
And that meant more to him than words would ever be able to describe.
Giyuu x You!FemReader
Comforting Giyuu in his lowest time of need.
Content: NSFW. Angst. Slow Burn. Undressing. Smut
Wordcount: 3.9k
KNY Fic Masterlist.
Sent on a personal mission by Kagaya himself to check on Giyuu after his disappearance about a week ago. As you approach his front door Giyuu is laying bed and staying up at the ceiling with his mind in a dense fog. Your knock broke his dreary train of thought, but remained motionless, hoping whoever is at the door will just go away. He grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head to drown out the noise with a sigh.
With no answer or sign of life after a few knocks you start to worry yourself. You open his front door and poke your head inside.
"Giyuu? You here?" You call out to him. You already know he is, just clinging on to that hope he'll answer.
He instantly recognized your voice and tensed briefly. You're one of the select few he doesn't mind being around, but he pretended to not hear you. A part of him hopes you'll give up and leave still, but the other part feels relieved that you have showed up. Damn it.
You take your shoes off by the door to step further inside the estate and investigate. The silence is too heavy.
"I'm coming in." You call out again to make your presence known.
".. Go away." He muffled a sharp exhale into his pillow. It was more an exhausted plea than a demand. A vulnerability he struggled to disguise this time.
You approach his bedroom door and slide it open without knocking to peer inside. You felt a relief finding him.
"There you are, " you say with a soft smile and step in.
Giyuu remained frozen and hidden under the bedding. He felt exposed and gripped the pillow tighter as he heard your footsteps nearing the bed.
"What are you doing under there?" You lightly chuckle and crouch down by the side of the bed before you lower your head with a tilt.
His entire body tensed as his chest tightened. He used the pillow as a shield still to protect him from the world.
"Resting," he mumbled a weak lie.
Of course you know better than that. Your face is close to touching the floor as you remain at eye level where he's hiding.
"At this time of day?"
The pillow shifted slightly as he exhaled through his nose that almost came out like a sigh.
"..It's quiet here.. Go home." But there was no real bite to it, just dragging each word like an anchor in water he was drowning in and couldn't surface from once again.
You don't give up. Instead you gently grab on to the edge of his defense mechanism and lift it up slightly to get a glimpse of his face underneath.
"But why would I wanna do that? I just got here."
"..Tch. Annoying.." He tries to turn away to hide how red and tear stained his eyes were, but your hold kept him there in place.
Hearing the underlying desperation in his voice with the sadness his face carries your heart sank. You look at him more seriously for a moment with a frown.
"Scoot over."
You don't actually wait for him to do that and crawl underneath with him.
".. What are you doing?" He strained a breathless whisper as your weight shifted the mattress underneath him. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't move away.
You know damn well he could use a hug and someone there to comfort him even though he'll protest and won't say it out loud. You scoot closer and wrap your arm around his side.
"Being annoying."
Your arm around him felt like a lifeline and he tensed, resisting the urge to lean into your embrace.
"..You're too close." But he didn't pull away still and remained rigid as if he were a coiled spring thats just waiting to snap.
"Good. Then I'm doing my job well.." You murmur softly and rest your head against his chest under his chin as you hold him.
That broke something inside him. Giyuu could feel the rise and fall of your breathing. He slowly let out a shuddering breath and relaxed, subtly melting into your embrace. He hated it and wants more. He put his arms around your waist and pull you closer.
You nuzzle into him as your smile slightly returns. There's a million different things you could say right now.
"I'm here.. you don't have to say anything right now if you don't want to.. just.. I'm here.."
Giyuu's breath hitched at your closeness, too close. For a split second his fingers dug into your clothes, but then forcibly loosens his grip.
"..You're too warm," he quietly grumbled, wanting to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead but hesitates.
You scoff lightheartedly at his comment while it tugged at your heartstrings to hear at the same time.
"Well, someone's gotta warm you up, don't ya think."
He huffed in reluctant agreement and frustration.
"You're too damn stubborn." He directed that more towards himself than at you.
For a moment the only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of your breaths near synchronizing and his heart beating under your cheek. Then he quietly whispers.
"…Don't go."
You shift just a smidge to get more comfortable.
"I'm not going anywhere.. not now especially.."
He wanted to say more, to protest, push you away still and make you leave before it was too late, but the words died in his throat. He found himself holding you closer instead, seeking your warmth and comfort like a lost puppy.
"..Brat.." He muttered into your hair.
You scoff again almost like a light chuckle.
"You ready to talk about it..?"
Giyuu tensed again. The question hung in the air like a sharp knife.
"No.. I dont want to." There was an edge of stubbornness in his tone that didn't quite conceal the pain.
All he wanted right now is to just stay right here with you in his arms and forget everything even though he's aware avoiding the problem won't make it go away. Damn it all.
You just nod in understanding and don't want to push too hard.
"Okay.. even though I should like tickle it out of you," you softly giggle for a moment trying to somewhat lighten the mood before turning serious again. His reaction to your terrible attempt of making a joke didn't go unnoticed.
"..is there anything I can do for you?"
"You're doing it." He didn't elaborate what "it" was though. Was it your presence, your warmth, the way you weren’t pushing him to talk but weren’t letting go either? After a moment he murmured quiter.
"..Don't stop."
"Then I won't.." Even though the body heat together like this under the covers with your uniform on made it uncomfortably hot and near close to sweating.
Giyuu was fully aware of the heat too, his own uniform sticking to his body like a second skin, but like hell was going to complain when the alternative is letting go. He buries his face in your hair.
".. Everyone's starting to get worried about you, you know.. me especially.." You start moving your hand as an effort to rub his back.
He tensed again and didn't want your pity even though your hand eased some of the ache in his muscles. Didn't deserve it.
"..You shouldn't waste your concern on me."
"Too late.. I already agreed on staying so now you gotta deal with it." You begin to move your hand more confidently as you tilt your head slightly to pull away from his chest.
He gritted his teeth knowing there was no arguing with you, trying and failed to suppress a shiver that went down his spine. He hates how good your hand feels.
"You're tense.." You stop and make sure it's okay before you contine. "May I.."
Even though he's still coiled and ready to snap your voice was a gentle lifeline in the storm of his mind. Giyuu hesitated then gave a jerky nod.
"Do it." He hated how pleading he sounds, but too lost in the sensation of your touch to care.
Once you got the okay you slide your hand underneath his shirt from the bottom hem and press up against his bare back. You feel every muscle and tense knot that caused him to shudder again before his tension eases. Your focus is to comfort and soothe him in any way you can as you softly rub his back.
"How does this feel?"
Giyuu wanted to snap and tell you to not coddle him, but he couldn't. He yearned for more. He closed his eyes and tries to keep his breathing steady.
"…It feels… good," he admitted reluctantly like accepting defeat, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Then I'm glad." You continue moving your hand in soft rubs.
"You're surprisingly really soft.."
Your words were an innocent observation, but it him like a train. 'Soft' you had said. 'He was soft'. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the word. Soft was weak. Soft could be hurt. He tries to scoff but it comes out more like a strangled exhale.
"Tch. What's that supposed to mean?"
You stop moving your hand, but keep your palm pressed down as you look at him.
"Just kind of took me by surprise. I haven't touched a lot of backs really, you just have soft skin.."
His heart hammered in his chest at the idea of you touching other men and their backs. He didn't want that thought to invade his mind and tries to convince himself that its protectiveness and not jealousy.
"…Stop saying weird things," he muttered, avoiding your gaze.
"Yeah, you're probably right," you softly chuckle and start to feel your forehead wanting to sweat.
Damn it. Why did you have to sound so adorable? His skin begins to flush and curses at himself for the way his body is reacting. He shifts and pulls you even closer.
"Thought I was too close.." You shift as well to lay comfortably on your side still like this, bringing your leg up to rest on his.
Giyuu should have protested and made some kind of snarky remark, but instead he splays his hand out over your hip. The logical part of him is screaming to let go and pull away to maintain distance, but he's too weak for you to.
"Just.. stay still," he mutters under his breath.
You nod and try not to move even though your body wants to protest and pull away at how hot it's really getting.
"You ok..?" You ask genuinely concrned after hearing him swear under his breath.
He's far from okay. He can feel his self control slowly slip away and wants to touch more of you. Fuck the consequences.
"I'm… fine. Just…don't move." He nearly roughly growls.
"Then I wont.." And you meant that.
His thoughts spiral at the way you're being so obedient, causing his body to ache with a primal need. It took every bit of his limited restraint to not crush you into his chest. He begins to slowly slide his hand under your shirt from your hip. Giyuu couldn't help it. He needs skin-to-skin.
Your abdomen muscles tense but you stay still as promised while your cheeks change a shade of pink.
"What are you doing?" You whisper.
Your quiet and uncertain question made his breath hitch, stilling his hand on your stomach. His fingers flex, not sure if he should pull away or press deeper.
"I dont.. know," he swallowed hard. Giyuu wanted to justify himself by making up some excuse about checking for injuries or to ensure you werent overheating.
"…You're too warm," he muttered lamely instead.
He's technically not wrong.
"Maybe this'll help." You tug the blanket down so the both of you aren't fully covered anymore despite the pillow over our faces still.
He swallowed, throat suddenly becoming dry. He could see the beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead and your face flushed a pretty pink. It would have been a beautiful sight if it didn't make his own pulse boom in his ears even more.
"It's… still hot," Giyuu grunted.
You pull away the pillow next and drop it to the side.
"Better?"
He exhaled sharply as his body felt like every inch of him was burning under your gaze.
"You're…" He trailed off, unable to find a word that didn't make this worse. His hand twitched before he bagan sliding it up higher.
"…Making it harder," he finally muttered gruffly.
Your abdomen muscles tighten again at the feel of his hands reaching your ribs.
"I am?"
Giyuu's hand continues to move across your stomach, tracing your ribcage with a feather-light touch.
"You are."
"How so?" Your chest rises and falls in rhythm with his touch, holding on to his back like an anchor.
His hand freezes, splaying his fingers against your ribs. He presses down into your soft skin trying to keep his breathing even.
"You're testing my patience… damn it."
You can feel the subtle tent pitching in his pants from being this close but you don't comment on it
"Am I doing something wrong?" What a stupid question for you to ask. Your mind is getting too clouded to think rationally.
Giyuu shifts, pushing his thigh up in between yours. You have no idea of the effect you have on him.
"You have no idea what kind of torture this is," he grits through clenched teeth.
Your nails press into his skin like a reflex as the pink in your cheeks redden.
"I'm.. torturing you..?"
He's barely holding onto his sanity by a fraying thread. The way you looked flushed and breathless under his touch that thread is about to snap.
"Yes," he hissed. "You are." Giyuu slides his hands up higher, brushing his fingers against the underside of your boob.
You use sheer willpower to not arch up to him and his touch. To not react even though you start to crave more of it.
"H..how..?"
The sight of you struggling was maddening. His fingers curl slightly, cupping the underside, and slowly brushes his thumb in a deliberate circle over your nipple.
"Like this," his voice strained and ragged. He wants to test how far he can push until you break.
"I.. then I'm sorry.." You bite down on your lower lip to push down the moan you feel creeping up your throat.
"Don't be sorry. You're not doing anything wrong," he rasped, swiping his thumb over your nipple again in a wordless demand for more. Daring you to finally let that moan slip free.
"Hh.. are you sure I'm not..?" You wanted say something else back, but that breathless gasp is what came out. Your chest rises under his touch and have the urge to close your legs as an attempt to hide the heat pooling between them.
"Stop," his voice near strangled. Every second, every inch of him screaming to claim you, and take what he wanted so goddamn bad was torture. Damn you for sounding so good like this and making it harder to resist. Giyuu pinches your nipple, causing you to yelp in pain and pleasure.
"Are you listening to yourself right now?"
"H-haah.." You press your nails firmer into his back, scratching it. "Y-You're making me sound this way.."
A rough, guttural sound escaped him as he head begins to spin. He leans down closer, guiding you on to your back.
"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" He rolls his thumb deliberately slow and teasingly again just to hear another one of those breathy sounds escape you.
"You're suggesting it's mine..?" You instinctively move your hand to the back of his head.
Giyuu pins you down with his weight, nipping your jawline.
"Who else's could it be, huh? You're the one making those damn cute little noises, not me. You're doing it on purpose. You have to be."
"If you think that.. you can just stop.." Even though your head is tilted back submissively to his mouth and struggle to not move your hands and begin undressing him.
Damn you for giving him an opt out, he groans against your skin.
"I can't. Not anymore.." he admits hoarsely.
And somehow that's all you needed. You move your hands to the front of him and begin unbuttoning his shirt, one golden button at a time.
He shudders under your touch, but doesn't stop you.
"You're pushing your luck," he warns in between nips and kisses slowly down your neck.
"I'm not a patient man.."
"No? Your usual stoic and calm demeanor says otherwise.." You fumble with the last button, the last one in your way from taking this thing off and seeing him for the first time without it.
Giyuu always prided himself on his ability to remain collected even in the most intense situations, but with you like this, every thread of his self-control was slowly unraveling.
"Careful," he bit out through gritted teeth as your fingers push the fabric aside and expose his chest to you. Flexing his muscles. "Keep taunting, and I might snap."
Your breath hitches as you press your hands against the front of him.
"You started it first.." You slide them up and down, stroking every inch of his skin on display and take in the view before you remove his shirt fully.
The feel of your hands on him was like gasoline on a flame. It only made his need to claim you burn hotter.
"I started it? You're the one who's been driving me insane since you got into this damn bed.." He moves his hands to grip your hips as if he's holding on for dear life once that shirt got tossed to the side.
Your lidded eyes roam up and down his body as you rest your hands up by your head.
"I really have been affecting you that much?"
"You have no goddamn idea how much," he returns the gaze, looking you over hungrily.
"Do you have any idea how much restraint it's taking… not to rip your clothes off and have you right now?"
"..And do you have any idea how much I want you to?" Your eyes wonder lower to the tent pitched in his pants.
Giyuu brushes his fingers over your stomach, tracing a line against the hem of your skirt causing little twitches before gripping your belt and begin unbuckling it. He's throbbing for you.
"You say that now,' he growled as he slowly, agonizingly pulls your skirt down your legs, removing it fully out of the way. "I hope you know that."
"I do say that." You have your hips lifted slightly to make the removal easier.
A sharp guttural sound tore from his throat as his hands immediately slide up your thighs, taking in the view beneath him. His gaze rakes over every inch of your body hungrily.
"Fuck," he rasped out between gritted teeth. "You're really not backing down from this."
You bring your hands up to stroke his biceps as your thighs move further apart.
"Are you?"
Every touch from you is like a jolt of electricity, setting his already burning need to claim you ablaze.
"No. I'm not," he growls hoarsely.
"Good. I don't want you to." You slide your hands down to the front of him and grab on to his belt with a tug. "Let's see what you look like under there"
Giyuu's muscles clenched, breath ragged. He leans down closer to you, bracing himself with one hand besides your head.
"You wanna see that badly?" He murmurs roughly in your ear. "Go ahead… take a look."
Your heart practically stutters as your hands dont stop. The sound of the buckle is louder than it should be as you unbuckle it. Your eyes trail down curiously. Your fingers move carefully to the button then zipper.
His entire body is taut and tense as he watches you unfasten his pants, resisting the urge to just take you without any mercy. God. Damn. It. He's going to lose control.
Sliding his pants down and freeing his hard cock from its prison you're surprised at how big he is with a slight curve, already leaking out pre-cum and throbbing for you. Your hand moves on its own knowing what to do, delicately ghosting your fingers around the head as you brush your thumb over the tip hole, smearing it.
Giyuu tensed like a coiled spring, every muscle in him thrumming with barely restrained need, jerking his hips forward chasing the sensation of your touch.
"Fuck-" he rasps through gritted teeth. His hand shot down to grip yours tightly before you could pull away again, not to restrain you completely but making it clear that he wasn't letting go.
You dont stop, making a perfect O with your index and thumb you tease the head with half strokes before you meet his eyes again and kiss him.
The kiss was like a switch being flipped. Without breaking it he lowers fully down on top of you like a man possessed. The feel of your lips in the kiss mixed with your teasing touch was like gasoline on a flame, any restraint he had left snapped. Giyuu grabbed your hip and pulled you under him causing your knees to instinctively lift up in an intimate press move your hand out of the way.
Giyuu deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue inside your mouth to claim and taste as his hands roam your body again.
"Giyuu.." You moan into his mouth swirling tongue around his.
He broke the kiss to move his head down, kissing and biting down the column of your neck. Marking you to show the world you're his.
"Say it again."
"Giyuu.'' Another moan pushes out of you at the feel of his length lined up perfectly along your folds and slicking in your mess teasingly while taking each bite.
Giyuu growled against your skin. He couldn't take it anymore. He spreads your legs further apart, positioning himself to press the tip up against your entrance.
"You're mine," he whispered.
"Hh- yours.." You moan into the room, holding him like a like a lifeline at the stretch.
Giyuu's head buzzed with your voice sounding so accepting and craving his claim.
"Mine," he growled again ragged and hoarse in declaration, pushing all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust.
"H-ahh. Giyuu-" You cry his name, clenching around every inch tightly and mold to his size.
He shudders at the way you took him so perfectly with eagerness, nearly sucking him in.
"Fuck-" he rasps between gritted teeth, the grip on your hips tightening almost to the point of bruising. "You feel that? That's all me."
Giyuu thrusts slowly and deeply. Undeniably claiming what's his.
"Haa.. haa.. I feel you-" You shut yourself up by kissing him once more, your head is swimming and lost in the sensation of him.
"God sweetheart-"
He intertwines his fingers with yours above your head to hold you even closer. To make damn sure you couldn't get away from him now.
"You don't even know," he whispered in between kisses, his hips continue snapping in a slow but deep motion. "You have any idea how much I need this."
"Yeah?.. You needed me that much?.. I came at the perfect time?.." You murmur in between moans.
To be continued..
Note: sorry I ended it here. I just recently downloaded Infinity Castle Eng Dubbed and now my attention is back on that project and creating clips of the movie for you guys :D I will make a part 2 to this and continue it <3
Tags (Giyuu List Open):
@luvely-nemi0 @giyusjewel @succubussdreams @venetianwisteria @yomommasofat1234 @lit3rsoulz
