hello 👋 may i please request a fic about giyu and pregnant reader going out and everyone is doting on her now that she is showing. her little bump makes giyu proud and happy too 🥹 thank you i really enjoyed your last piece.
---The Bump
Pairing: Giyu Tomioka x Pregnant!Reader
Setting: Demon Slayer Universe (canon era)
Genre: Fluff, Comfort
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: Softness, mentions of pregnancy, a bit of teasing, lots of love
Author's note: thank you for submitting a request 🙏😖
I love making people happy 😁
Summary:
Your bump is finally starting to show, and during a walk through the village, the sudden doting attention from everyone catches you off guard. Giyu doesn't mind, though. In fact, he might be even more in love with you—and the little life you’re carrying—than he realizes.
> "You keep staring," you teased, nudging him lightly.
His gaze didn’t shift. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured. “That you’re real. That this… we… is real.”
_________________________________________________
The village was lively that morning, the streets humming with the sounds of merchants and children laughing in the distance. Spring had painted everything in soft colors—pink petals fluttering in the breeze, sunlight dappling through budding trees.
You walked beside Giyu, your hand nestled in his while your other cradled the gentle curve of your growing belly. You weren’t that far along, but the bump had finally started to show. Enough that people had started to notice—and dote.
"You're glowing, dear! Here, take this—on the house!" a sweet old vendor cooed, holding out a neatly wrapped package of dried fruit.
You blinked in surprise. "Oh, I couldn't possibly—"
But Giyu, standing just behind you, accepted it with a rare softness in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said simply, placing the package in your bag.
The moment the woman turned away, your eyes darted up to him. “You didn’t have to take it—”
“I did,” he said, and there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She meant well.”
As you walked further through the village, it only continued. One woman insisted you sit and rest for just a minute. A tailor offered to loosen the sash around your kimono, murmuring about how important comfort was for a growing baby. Even a group of small children paused to stare at your stomach, eyes wide in curiosity before running off giggling.
You blushed after the fifth person had offered you something.
“Okay, this is getting a little embarrassing,” you whispered under your breath.
But Giyu just gave your hand a squeeze and leaned closer. “I like it.”
You tilted your head at him. “You like me being fussed over?”
He didn’t answer right away, eyes scanning the road ahead. But his grip on your hand didn’t loosen.
“I like that they see you,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. “That they know how special you are. That you’re carrying our child.”
Your heart thudded at the way he said our child—with that subtle reverence only Giyu could manage without raising his voice.
You slowed to a stop in front of a vendor selling hand-carved wooden trinkets. Giyu paused with you, noticing how your eyes lingered on a small fox figurine. It reminded you of something you couldn’t quite place—maybe a story from your childhood. Maybe a hope for your own child’s.
Giyu bought it before you could protest.
“Giyu,” you whispered, touched. “You’re going to spoil them before they’re even born.”
“They deserve it,” he said without hesitation.
He glanced down then—down at the small swell of your belly that your hands kept brushing against protectively. And something flickered in his eyes. Not just happiness, but pride. A quiet, aching kind of pride that burned low in his chest like a steady flame.
You caught the way he looked at your bump—how he lingered there for just a second longer than necessary—and you smiled softly.
“You keep staring,” you teased, nudging him lightly.
His gaze didn’t shift. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured. “That you’re real. That this… we… is real.”
You reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair from his face. “I’m here. And so are you. And soon…” You glanced down. “They will be too.”
For a moment, the world was quiet. Just the sound of wind and Giyu’s thumb brushing small, soothing circles over the back of your hand.
And then he surprised you.
He let go of your hand, stepped in front of you, and crouched just slightly—his calloused hand gently resting against your bump. He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes, resting his forehead against your stomach for a quiet moment of reverence.
When he stood again, his expression was unreadable—but his eyes? They shimmered.
“I’m happy,” he said.
It was simple. Quiet. But you knew it was the deepest truth he could give.
Timeline/Setting: Modern AU – Married with a 7-month-old baby
---
The late afternoon sun streamed softly through the living room curtains, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floor. The apartment, for once, was blissfully quiet. No baby babble. No fussing. No teething wails.
You gently closed the door to the nursery, holding your breath like a final prayer. The crib mattress had finally accepted your seven-month-old daughter’s tiny, warm body. Her breathing had evened out, lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. Success.
You tiptoed back down the hallway, exhaling slowly as you rubbed your shoulder from the hours of swaying, bouncing, and lullaby-humming. Giyu stood at the end of the hallway leaning against the doorframe, dressed in soft black sweatpants and a plain gray tee, hair loosely tied back.
“She asleep?” he asked, voice hushed and low.
“She better be,” you said, pressing your index finger to your lips. “I just aged five years trying to get her to nap.”
Giyu chuckled—quietly, of course—and reached for you as you approached. His hand slid around your waist, fingers splayed and familiar, guiding you gently into him.
“Good,” he murmured, tilting his head to brush his lips against yours, “because I’ve been waiting all day.”
Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours—warm, slow, and just a little needy. The kind of kiss that reminded you you weren’t just a mom, but his partner. His love. His wife.
You melted into him, sighing softly as your hands curled into his shirt. His grip tightened on your waist as he nudged you backward, walking you gently into the bedroom until the back of your knees hit the bed. He didn’t push—he didn’t need to. The heat of his lips against yours, the subtle growl in his throat when your nails scraped lightly up the back of his neck… it was more than enough.
You pulled him down with you as you laid back, your legs curling instinctively around his waist. He smiled against your lips, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to trace the soft skin just above your hip. Goosebumps followed in his wake.
“I missed you today,” he murmured, brushing kisses along your jaw. “You’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“You mean keeping your child alive?” you teased breathlessly.
“Our child,” he corrected, dipping his head to your throat, where he kissed a sensitive spot that made you squirm. “But I’d still like some time with you too.”
You laughed softly until he nipped gently at your neck, dragging another sound from you entirely. His body pressed flush against yours, his hand cradling your thigh while his other kept you anchored close.
The kiss deepened—slower but more intense. You sighed into his mouth, letting your body respond, your hands trailing along the lines of his back. The kind of moment you hadn’t had in weeks. The kind that made your heart ache with love and your body ache with longing.
Just as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts—
“WAAAAHHHH!!”
The shrill cry from the monitor sliced through the tension like a knife. You both groaned in perfect sync.
Giyu dropped his forehead to your collarbone. “She has a sixth sense.”
“She really does,” you whispered with a weak laugh. “Sorry.”
He lifted his head just enough to kiss your lips once more, slow and sweet, despite the infant siren call blaring in the background.
“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You’re doing everything, and you’re still so beautiful it makes me insane.”
You blinked, flushed.
Then, with a final kiss to your cheek, he pushed up off the bed. “I’ll get her.”
“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “Let me go with you.”
He smiled, eyes full of something that almost made your breath catch—like love was a tangible thing in that moment.
“Okay,” he murmured.
Together, you padded back down the hallway, your fingers brushing together between your bodies. The monitor still buzzed as your daughter cried, demanding attention.
But even through the exhaustion and interruptions, Giyu’s hand found yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.
You weren’t alone.
And when the next nap time came around… you’d try again.
