he's already covered in so many liquids. his skin is sticky from a mix of cum, sweat, saliva, and tears. under the moonlight from the window, it makes him glisten like a diamond--a slutty diamond that keeps crying for more and less at the same time.
every inch of his skin feels like it's on fire. the tingling sensation hasn't gone away since his first orgasm, and that was three ago. it's almost as if there's a wave of sensation washing over him each time you lazily stroke his cock, and the tide has no intentions of going out any time soon.
"nghhh... please..." he begged, voice barely above a mumble and so slurred you almost want to tell him you don’t understand him just to watch him whimper at the thought of using what little energy he has left to repeat it. however, the trail of drool dripping from his mouth persuaded you to give your darling a break.
"please what, my baby?" you ask in response, a hand coming up to his face to cup it and glide your thumb under his eyes, wiping away the tears only to have them replaced immediately with new ones.
he bites his lip, a gorgeous note of whine and moan leaving him as he blinks up at you with bleary, glossed over eyes. if it was possible, you'd say he looked more distressed after you asked the question, his pretty head shaking as he hiccuped.
"i don’t... i don’t know..." he cried pitifully, breaths coming out in short gasps as he arched into your fingers.
your hand moved down, grazing his balls just to watch him flinch before reaching his loose, wet, raw hole that clenched around nothing under your gaze. it pulsed, blinking at you like it was both desperate and afraid of you entering it again. not that it would hurt anyways, after all, it was leaking lube down between his cheeks and onto the bed beneath him.
"well... you have to tell me something, sweetheart." you told him. the condescension in your voice laced over mock comfort made him preen and blush. everything was just so fucking overwhelming. you could touch the tip of his nose and he'd sob.
his breathing picked up again, unfocused eyes watching you like you were the only thing keeping him even vaguely grounded. you looked so put together compared to him. just staring at the way your skin was soft and dry, your hair was still nice, and your expression was still sobered all made him want to curl up from embarrassment and arousal.
he opened his mouth again, trying to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what he wanted. all he knew was that he felt like he was high and also deep in some broken version of his mind at the same time. his shaking hands reached up to wrap around your neck, wanting you closer despite how sensitive he was and mewling into your shoulder when you conceded, pressing your perfect body and clean skin against his ruined, messy one.
"awww, my sweet baby." you cooed into his ear, voice soft and everything he needed for his eyes to roll back and his legs to fall open again, begging you for more even if he was already so shattered from what you had given him.
"please..." he begged again, voice trailing into a soft breath as you smiled down at his pitiful form.
"please, what?" you asked again, fingertips trailing slowly up his thighs, hips, sides, and ribs before going down again. his whole body quivered under the touch, trembling like a leaf, or a delicate butterfly fluttering in your palm.
"m-more." he whispered, face blossoming into a bright red from shame as he let out a soft plea for more despite how much you had already given him.
"as you wish, my love." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead and making him sob before burying his face in your neck.
your hand wrapped around his dick and he screamed against your skin, biting it to try and stop the whole neighbourhood from hearing. but, when your other hand slowly circled a finger around his rim before pushing into his sloppy, wet hole, he couldn't hold back the way his hoarse voice broke through the walls of your bedroom.
by morning, you'd have the city filing a complaint that would swiftly be thrown in the trash as you brought your darling back to bed for another dozen rounds.
YUJI, giyuu, kaeya, SIGMA, mammon, haibara, shigaraki, your favs <3
a/n: guess who's baaaaack 😛 i've decided to open requests back up for a little bit to get new inspo but don’t worry i'll still be working through my old ones. missed you lovelies!!
➠ 𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: Giyuu wasn’t as composed as he thought, not when it came to you at least. You who made him feel bigger emotions than indifference—with you there came feelings of desire.
Need. Want for more than just materialism. This longing for your touch, the sound of your voice as you spoke to him. This eagerness to always seek you out.
But’s it’s been days since he’s been with you and he’s already at his breaking point.
➠ 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: touch-starved!giyuu x kakushi!reader, hashiras, demon slayer au, female!reader,light angst(if you squint), insecurity, fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n for f!reader, porn with plot, porn with feelings, massages, begging, overstimulation, light dacryhilia, orgasm edging, p n’ v, vaginal fingering, aftercare, light dom & sub, sub!giyuu, femdom!reader. Wc 8k
➠ 𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧: full fic also cross posted on ao3
The sun is warm from its descent through the opened window of the infirmary. You’d just finished reorganizing the shelf’s after finding it hard to sit still. You’d swept, had the beds cleaned and remade. You were a kakushi who specialized in the medical field—even if the kakushi was a term under multiple professions. Providing first aid, typically for demon slayers out on the battlefield, cleaning up said battle fields after—and guiding them towards the butterfly mansion if injured.
Those tasks might’ve seemed normal, maybe even basic to everyone else. But to you, the scent of demons was irritable, revolting, and overall nauseating. The remains of their blood, retched—as their bodies stuck to the hard working demon slayers like a second skin. Every time you’d approach one—to help, to get them to safety. You’d plummet straight to the ground from the stench.
The Master of the Mansion was surprisingly very understanding of this—condition you were suffering from. You’d thought your entire life would’ve been over, after finding out another how considerate he was. Your initial worries had ceased. Though, with this hindrance there also came this rise of expertise, this mastery in the arts of healing.
From the village you orientated from, women—most. Where seen as witches, evil from the devil brought amongst man to wreak havoc with these doe like eyes. Words with twists and turns to lure you in. Children, mostly young girls at the time were seen as curses. The spawn of said evil. They were taken, executed—put to death.
A warning for all.
So when your mother had you, she was filled with a great fear that the same would be brought upon you. So she kept you hidden on the far outskirts of the village until your time for adulthood had came.
It had. And at some point during that time frame—leaving home. Brought you here. You were happy with your life, and the progress you’ve made. Finding friends—family.
The door to the infirmary was aggressive when shoved open—you flinched despite yourself. You knew who it might’ve been, he always came with new cuts on his skin. Hands, arms—mostly inflicted in the heat of battle.
“Good morning, Mr. Shinazugawa!” You smiled, finishing up your newly displayed incense tray. Gifted to you by non other than the master after he promoted you to “head” kakushi. You weren’t sure if it was a real title or not, of if he just made it up on the spot. Nonetheless it stuck.
You turned around to find the wind pillar standing in the entrance of the doorway. Expression sour and no doubt angry, he always wore that kind of expression. The one where you could tell he hadn’t wanted to be here. But the Master—well he had suggested that he should always have his wounds cleaned. As grumpy as the hot tempered man was he listened—despite still being stubborn about the whole thing.
“Mr. Shinag—“ You started, removing your hands from the incenses tray to approach him. He bristled instantly, like a feral cat.
“Don’t approach me! I can move on my own!” He snapped. Shifting his foot forward, as if the mere thought of medical attention offended him completely.
“Ok, Mr. Shinazugawa. Take your time.” You muttered softly, waiting patiently by the bed as he steadily approached. You accessed him quietly, eyes moving along the bulk of his body. Searching for wounds. He was staggering slightly despite his already slow kitten like steps, uniform torn and worn into. Meaning you’d probably have to get some sewing done if you weren’t too busy.
He growled meanly at your soft tone, feeling coddled—he wasn’t a baby! He was mean, and angry for having to sit here and let you tend to some wretched wound!
Eventually he sat down, laid onto the bed as you kindly asked that he listened. He did so, fuming—but quiet.
“Thank you. May you remove the top part of your uniform please?” You asked him, you turned to prepare the tools you needed. The wound on the side of his waist was at least an inch to seven. Not extremely deep, but deep enough that if left unattended an infection was more than likely.
He groaned behind you, not loud but enough to know that he was in pain and trying to mask it. Plus it’s something your keen senses would have been able to pick up on any way. You reached inside the cabinet, grabbing a disinfectant. Disposable cotton swaps for cleaning, and a prepared stitching kit. As well as the gauze for after.
You turned back around, placed the items down on the table nearby. Nudged you chair in the direction of the bedside and took a moment to clean your hands again. By the time you’d finished he’d removed the remaining pieces of his shirt.
You sat down and pushed his arm up over his head. He scowled of course, but you paid him no mind really—you were used to his behavior at this point. You’re just surprised he’s actually continuing it.
“Alright, I’ll disinfect and clean the surrounding area first—it’s gonna sting so prepare yourself.” You told him, not removing your eyes from the wound. You grabbed the wound disinfectant and began using the cotton balls—and swabs to clean the bloodied area.
He’d flinch noticeably each time, rush you as you moved to tentatively for his liking—but you were gentle. You were positive he was just making a fuss to fuss. With all the squirming he was doing, you’d be surprised that he was still able to act all rash and be a bully in the end. Though you’d never consider embarrassing him like that, he’d probably kill you—
Well in private he claimed he would, especially when you thought it was a good idea to check up on him.
“We’re almost done.” You murmured, lowly—too low. Seriously with the stench of your strong, sense dulling—incenses he almost wanted to claim that you were also a demon. Just so he could get rid of you. You finished stitching up his wound, covered it in a piece of gauze and wrapped him up. Gently around his waist.
You assured him that he shouldn’t scar, that he should be completely fine if he cleaned and redressed it properly.
But—
“I don’t care! You tell me what I should do—one more time and I’ll—“
“Have a good day, Mr. Shinazugawa. Make sure you enjoy some ohagi today, it’ll make you feel better.”
He turned, whipped his head around. Just as he’d been leaving- his expression once contorted in toddler like anger falls like a stack of logs.
“What—“
He starts, voice growing angry. The door to the infirmary is pushed open again, but gently this time. You recognized the raven strands of hair instantly as the water pilled stood center in the middle of the door frame.
He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, Shinazugawa turned and you blinked as they eyed each other—like two wild animals in a face off.
They both spoke, at the same time telling each other to move. Compared to the snap of the wind hashira, the water hashira’s voice was low and monotonous. As if he weren’t bothered. But still he step aside as shinazugawa pushed past him. He stood there for a couple seconds more. As if waiting for something.
Finally you came back to your senses and eventually opened your mouth. “Ah—Mr. Tomioka,” you greeted, far too politely for his liking. He stepped further inside and closed the door—locking it without you realizing.
“Are you here for your appointment?” You asked, voice tremor-ing as he steadily approached with this blank expression. You were nervous—and it was no doubt showing by your expression. Thinking you’d be able to stand up, you found it near impossible by how quickly he moved to stand in front of you. Invading your personal space;
Fingers twitching as if wanting to reach out and touch—though considering the fact he hadn’t been given permission. And that he was also far too nervous to initiate affection he simply hadn’t. Though painfully tempted as you plopped back down onto the seat. Eyes flicking up to meet his down casted, and tired eyes.
“Yes.” He told you simply, as if it had been obvious.
Your first meeting with Mr. Tomioka. As you called him had been insanely wholesome—at first you found it strange how he watched you so intently but never approached you. Always lurking in the shadows, not to far from where you’d be assisting another young demon slayer. He’d watched closely as your expression twisted with noticeable disgust at the scent that clung to their clothes—
Seeing your reaction—the abrupt collapse. It’s not like his hygiene was even terrible to begin with. But he became insanely paranoid that he might’ve been walking around smelling like a demon after some mission. He wasn’t sure if it was out of respect or something else, but he immediately sought out different perfumes to wear. New body washes, and soaps. After missions—he’d practically drown himself in his bath water, later. himself in soap again and again— trying to wash off the stench—even if he had no idea if it was there or not.
Slowly but surely he became more confident, though still cautious. He began to approach you, he’d linger. Watch as you worked if he weren’t busy—he wasn’t busy very often. Even if he had been. He’d subconsciously search for you around the mansion. Seeking your calming presence. It was small at first, the attraction he had for you. Warm and fuzzy as it built in his chest. He began to watch your eyes as they lit up, everytime he’d approach.
Like he was a breath of fresh air. He began to watch your habits, the way you ate slowly. Surely taking time to enjoy the food right in front of you—compared to him who swallowed his food the second it had touched his hands.
Old habits die hard they say.
Then he noticed your hands. Soft compared to the roughness of his, you kept them well moisturized, manicured often. You had an habit of touching things, people without realizing. Sometimes you’d unexpectedly poke at his cheek when he made a silly face.
Not used to it, he’d flush—turn beat red and turn away. Trying to mask the embarrassment. There was also power in those finger tips of yours, he’d noticed months ago. Your touch was calming, centering—healing. Literally.
A flower could be wilting, and a simple brush of your hand brought it life. And he—felt as if he’d been that flower. Maybe he wished he had been. As if the true essence of life came from a simple brush of your fingers.
He was weak to your touch, unbelievably so for being an hashira. So everytime he came for his weekly appointment, he’d locked the door. In fear of someone seeing him in this entirely embarrassing state—
“I told y—you—hnnngh!—“ he squealed, voice pitched and high, half whimpering into the pillow. Fingers dug tightly into the sheets as you sat, straddling his hips. Thumbs pressed deeply, rough but not hard into his lower back. Working out the prickling tension of a long week.
“—to called me g—giyuu—“ he choked out, voice slightly muffled as you massaged his back into oblivion. But god—the touch of your hands felt like heaven. He was gone.
“Mr. Tomioka—“
“Giyuu—!” He stammered out again, he inhaled sharply as your thumbs pressed up and up into his shoulders blades—massaging slowly into the muscles with your knuckles. With his back and your hands slick with a non-scented oil. The glide across his skin was smooth.
“Giyuu—right, Giyuu—“ You sighed. In public you were always professional, respectful. He was a hashira after all, whether he thought so or not. You completely forgot how close you’d gotten behind closed doors—literally. How intimate your relationship had grown with others non the wiser.
You tended to forget to drop your act of professionalism out of sheer necessity to keep your relationship private—which resulted in some usual frustration from the man below you. Who enjoyed to the sound of his name leaving your lips.
You flattened your palms against his back, but kept your thumbs firm as you massaged his sides, and the center of his back throughly. He flinched beneath you, hips bucking abruptly into the mattress of the bed. As if he were being shocked.
A moan—something far too close to a sob tumbled from his throat. Anyone outside would have thought he was being tortured—though he was still very tame with the amount of noises he let out. Doesn’t mean he weren’t trying— he was.
“Giyuu, we’re almost finished.” You muttered atop his hips. Working out the tension on his back. He nodded but couldn’t bring himself to answer without stammering. Giyuu realized something—weeks maybe even months ago before you both had established your relationship together.
That just as badly as he enjoyed your touch his body had also—like really badly. He found that each time you brushed against him, whether it was clothed or your hand on his or his arm. He got hard. Which was new for someone like him—to leak copious amounts of pre-come just because you acknowledge him.
Was so embarrassing!
which meant it was no different from now. He was aching—he had been half the week. Trying to keep his composure when you both find that you were alone. It took everything not to pounce you—with you always looking like you fell from the heavens.
He hoped that you’d been dropped here just for him and him alone—if not. He wouldn’t be able to take it.
You’d been busy the entire week! Stuck in this infirmary—tending to slayers. Never getting home, stationed inside this mansion like a live in nurse. If you were anyone’s anything you were his first.
His pretty…
Pretty, Pretty girl-
He was still hard, no matter how many times he attempted to will his erection away. With your encouraging coos—
“Just a littlee…more, almost finished. A couple knots to get out—“
“You’re being so good.”
“So good, Giyuu—you’re being so good for me.”
That last one would break him, he moans softly—muttering something you couldn’t possibly understand into the pillow. But it’s enough for you to keep encouraging him, and it’s enough for him to lose control of his hips.
Grinding into the mattress, humping the covers—rutting his cock against it. Trying to relieve the pent of pressure he’s feeling from always needing you so bad. As your hands gently caressed his back, rubbing in the excess oil. He felt you shift on his back—he lifted his head wondering why it was ending so soon-
“What are y—mmgh—“ If you would’ve seen his expression, you would have seen the flush on his cheeks. The roll of his eyes and the pretty pout on his lower lip as you decorated his upper back with sweet kisses—the ones he’s been longing for against his in the middle of the night.
Giyuu does everything to not cum his pants as your fingers burn against his waist—searing his skin. His hips buck—aggressively this time, he throws his head back into the pillow and a longgg, drawn out moan of pure need spills from his lips.
You finally pull your lips away, the warmth of your thighs around him finally leaves as you get back on your feet. He hadn’t came—but he was pretty darn close. Coming to the terms that it might’ve been enough to satisfy him—but this time it hadn’t. Giyuu laid there for a couple long minutes as you washed your hands in the corner of the room.
He moved silently as he climbed off the bed, the shift of the springs beneath not registering as you hummed to yourself—covering your hands in a thick latter of soap. Behind you Giyuu snuck quietly, you hadn’t even noticed he was there until strong arms wrapped around your waist. He intertwined his fingers just in case you wanted to “escape” him.
You flinched as he nuzzled into the side of your neck, pulling you back against him—close enough to feel his hardness poking into your backside.
“Mr—“
His grip tightened, as if warning you about the next words that dared spill from your mouth. Your expression faltered, and you chuckled softly.
“Giyuu. Is something wrong,” You asked him, rubbing your hand up to your wrist, repeating the step on your other. He mumbled softly, lips brushing against your ear. “You know I can’t understand you when you mumble like that.” you scolded sweetly, rinsing off the soap from your hands and wrists.
“When are you coming home…I’ve been sooo’ lonely without you.” He muttered, sounding like a whimpering puppy in your ear. You resisted a giggle. When he realized you’d finished washing your hands he quickly spun you around, pressing you back into the edge of the sink.
“I’m serious,” he insisted, his expression suddenly just as serious as the moment of body heat you felt radiating off him. “I mi—“
Before he could even finish what he was saying— a frantic knock came from the locked side of the door. You and Giyuu bristled—though schooling his expression as you rushed over.
“Kakushi-samaaa! My ankle—“ one of the younger demon slayers wailed dramatically—another voice came, probably another young demon slayer, voice kind but somehow still worried. “Miss. Kakushi—? Are you ok, why’s the door locked?”
You quickly swatted giyuu towards his shirt, who clearly hadn’t seemed too worried about the voices on the other side of the door. Trying to handle his disappointment without it being so obvious, he did as you asked and put on the top part of his uniform. Fixing the buttons and collar into place—
As he had, you opened the door and helped the young demon slayer onto another bed with the help of his friend who stayed by his side. Giyuu glanced at the bed he’d previously been on—and was suddenly made aware of the wet stained patch in the middle of it.
Drowned in instant despair he’d ripped the sheets off, caught in the act when you suddenly turned around at the sound of rustling.
“Mr. Tomioka! What—what are you doing.”
“Helping.” He stated bluntly, and ripped the rest of the sheets and pillows off the bed, leaving nothing but the mattress as he scurried out the room.
You blinked—before suddenly being reminded of the teenage and his sprained ankle as he flailed dramatically behind you. You would have thought he was being mauled instead.
“Young Agatsuma—you must calm down! Otherwise you’ll worsen your sprain!” You suggested, over his still crazed wailing—you began pulling out your supplies. Listening to his friend as he demanded that he calmed down.
“Zenitsu! You are being far too loud!”
.
.
.
It’s been two complete days since you’d seen Giyuu. Day in and day out you tended to wounded demon slayers who had just escaped in the heat of their battles—by the time the third day rolled around you were beyondd exhausted. All you wanted was to go home, snuggle alongside your lover—Giyuu and enjoy the warmth of his body after a long day.
The day slowed—finally. You could barely move your limbs as you cleaned up after the day you had in the infirmary. After Giyuu took one of the bed sheets off the bed, you half expected him to return. But ultimately during laundry day they finally made their way back on their own. Having made the bed, reorganized and restocked the shelves. You sat the burning incenses by the slightly cracked opened window.
The sun shined brightly; it coated your skin in this gentle golden glow as you walked outside. The gravel beneath your feet crunched as you moved with a small smile. In the distance you could hear the unmistakable sound of the love pillar. Her cheery voice, full of joy—pink hair with unique and green tips, to match the light green color of her eyes.
But as you approached you heard the words-
“Tasty!—“ Being repeated over and over again, you were sure that whoever was repeating themselves like that…most likely; something was completely and horrifyingly wrong with them—
Until you realized that it was non other than the flame pillar himself, which wasn’t new to you—or anyone else who usually accompanied him.
“Ah…Good evening! Miss. Kanroji and Mr. Rengoku!” You greet politely. The love pillar turns towards you, smiling all excitedly as she moves towards you with a plate a of Sakura mochi.
“Good evening to you also, Miss. Kakushi! Would you like to try some Sakura mochi?” She smiles at you, stretching out her arms. The flame pillar, who was behind her—chewed up the rest of his little snack and also approached you.
“Evening! You’ve worked hard! Congrats!” He praises—loudly—ridiculously loud. Like he wanted the entire world to know what was happening. You gulp at their wild smiles and raised your hand to take a single mochi from the plate, Kanroji had outstretched to you.
“Thank you—“
Your feet that had once been planted on the ground of pure dirt and pebble had suddenly and unexpectedly been lifted off the ground by strong arms and much to your surprise—pure ease. You caught yourself, your free hand wrapping around someone’s large head—no instead they wrapped around a jeweled head band—
The sound pillar has you over his shoulder in a matter of seconds, as if you were no more than a sack of potatoes. Miss. Kanroji startles, squeaks more than you do at the abruptness—but Mr. Rengoku isn’t even fazed—
“Your skills are admirable! Even if you’re a little weak—your talent makes you strong! I’d say even Flamboyant like me!” He declares, having stilled yourself atop his shoulders. You became well aware of the distance between your feet and the ground. I mean being dropped wasn’t a problem, you felt safe enough that you’d probably be caught.
“Oh—eh…Thank you. Can I ask what all this is for?” You mutter, eyes flicking around. Trying to figure when you should ask to be put down.
“We should celebrate!” The love hashira suggests, plate still in hand. But you had began to noticed that each second one began to disappear. “Yes! Enjoy a hearty meal with drinks!”
Mr. Uzui starts to agree—but there was no way that was gonna happen! You hadn’t been home in days, and if Giyuu wasaround he’d be standing behind you. Muttering in that monotonous tone—(like he always had) that he wanted to go home.
“I can’t—tired! That’s right- I-l’m tired a-and I need to get home!” You quickly blurt out, shifting around—the sound pillar eventually places you down. Feeling flustered, there was no way you were able to bare the eyes of the much disappointed hashira. Not when you had one to deal with at home.
As you scurried off, dust follows behind from how quickly you move on your feet. Thanking the love pillar for her Sakura mochi. They all watch, Mr. Flame pillar with his arms crossed—and Mr. Sound pillar who places his hands on his hips. Standing tall.
“I’m surprised—to see that she’s able to deal with that gloomy dud,” Tengen exasperates lowly, waving his hand around in the air. “So not flashy.”
“They remind me of-“ Mitsuri gleefully startes, cheeks turning red at the thought of such a blooming romance.
“Lovebirds!”
But Kyojuro had interrupted—surprisingly with the most perfect words. While Mitsuri sways around they all seemingly agree.
That such a romance in bloom was admirable.
You returned home just in the nick of time as the night split the sky and the moon illuminated the night. You gently push the gate open, and walked calmly to the front door. Sliding it open, stepping inside and closing it behind you. You found that the further you entered the space it became barren.
Well—with no sign of Giyuu currently in sight. You figured he’d probably taken a walk outside at some point, maybe he had another mission or something that caused him to stay out later. Knowing he’d be home eventually.
You decide to prepare a meal for dinner.
You spent almost two hours in the kitchen, moving from place to place—tidying up as you went along. By the time you were finished you had a meal fit for a king—or maybe just one you and Giyuu this time.
With both trays in hand, perfectly steady as you make your way to the Kotatsu.
“Ah—Giyuu!” You smile, placing the trays down onto the table. With the heavy futon already out of the way. Giyuu opens his eyes as you sit across from him. Finally realizing that he was still in his uniform. With his haori neatly hung up on the rack in the corner of the room. You almost felt silly comparing yourself to him who was still in their kappogi.
“When did you get home?” You ask, taking a seat on the cushioned pillow on top of the tatami mat.
“Just an hour ago, I hadn’t wanted to bother you while you were cooking—so I waited here.” He tells you lowly, glancing at the food. The aroma of grilled fish hit his nose; probably from when he’d headed to the market while you were too busy. clear steaming soup, regular veggies, pickled veggies. Cucumber and most likely radish as well as some freshly warmed rice.
“You wouldn’t have bothered me.” You reassured him warmly, eyes sparkling from where you sat from across the table. Giyuu glances at the empty space beside him and meets your eyes again.
Seconds after.
You’d move spots to sit next to him.
“Thank you. For…doing this.” He mutters, picking up his chopsticks as you pick yours up.
“Of course, I just wished we were able to do this more often—“ your expression quickly shifts as you watch the familiar quickness in which Giyuu moves his chopsticks to eat—stuffing his mouth with rice.
“Slow down,” a small amused snort leaves you as you try to stop yourself from laughing too loudly.
”I promise— it isn’t going anywhere. It’s been sooo long since we’ve enjoyed a proper meal together, let’s enjoy it!”
Your voice cuts through him, pausing his motions completely. Chopsticks still held in his hand; he glances up at you and nods. Clearly realizing his tiny mistake—he considers what you said, and he wills down his urge to quickly eat up his food.
“Ah…ok.” He murmurs.
Simultaneously matching your slower pace as you ate. Occasionally you’d place a piece of fish onto his plate—or even give him extra rice if you felt that he was getting low. In return without thinking, he’d do the same thing for you. Or he would have if you hadn’t reprimanded him. Claiming that to be strong he must eat a lot of food, especially if he wanted to be out fighting demons.
But he’d insist that he had more than enough food—and he’d in turn gently scold you that you should also eat your food.
Which made you giggle when you realized how ridiculous you both sounded.
What the other hashira hadn’t understood was that Giyuu could be the kindest—warmest person in the room. Despite his quick remarks, sass and closed off nature. He was considerate, extremely attentive and loyal. They hadn’t seen the part of him that smiled softly at you, chuckled—and sought out your touch.
That part was only meant for you.
Giyuu realized that the longer you sat beside him, telling him about the week you had without him. With giggles and sweet smiles. The sooner he became aware of the need he had suppressed to get through perimeter checks. Jealousy or something else—his fingers twitched at his sides.
Having finished his food moments ago—he seriously couldn’t believe that you were such a slow eater.
Couldn’t you see the need growing on his rapidly warming cheeks, the hunger in his eyes as he stared at you with a full stomach?
Scooping up the last bit of rice from the bowl, you placed it down to pick up your lukewarm cup of tea. He wasn’t making it not obvious that he was staring—you could totally feel his eyes.
But still even after being together for nearly half a year you still couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt.
You brought the cup to your lips, and Giyuu watched in awe. As if he were seeing an angel. You avoided his eyes—pure tease he thought warmly. You finsh off the rest of your tea, and just as you were placing the cup down—
You felt a gentle gust of wind as Giyuu leaned forward, something wet. Besides the tea you had unknowingly spilled. He licks from your chin to the corner of your mouth. As you shudder, he sighs softly like he drank from the fountain of vitality itself.
He’d notices your widened eyes, and immediately realizes what he’d done.
“Oh—ah, I—I’m…sorry…” he murmurs as he slowly begins to pull away, licking at the corner of his mouth as if subconsciously savoring you.
Eyes blown wide like saucers he would have thought you were a cat “high” on Nepeta cataria.
There were many things you’d forgotten about Giyuu over the course of the week and being so focused on work—how soft his lips were. A little impulsive when it came to you, but besides that he was very levelheaded.
Stoic.
Shy.
Cute.
“Kiss me.”
And for your voice to still be so soft, and airy; yet wrapped in demand— he couldn’t deny you. Giyuu leans back into you without hesitation, catches your lips in a feverish kiss. Clumsy and eager as he was in his efforts. Greatly warmed your heart. Your hands left the emptied cup to pull him close, fingers wrapping around the back of his head. Grasping his hair, the other held onto the front part of his uniform—closer to his belt.
“So cute—“ you murmur into him, while he groans when your hand tightens in his hair. His hands eagerly finds your hips. While the glide of his tongue grew messy against your lips, you part them—just enough to let him slip his tongue inside. Moaning softly as his tongue caresses and strokes yours—
He nips at your bottom lip, as if he weren’t getting enough. And you bring your hand up to his chest to nudge him back gently. Disconnecting your lips from his.
“What are you doing?” He asks, staring down at your mouth while breathless. Even though he was well aware of the difference in strength between the both of you, he stayed still.
“What’s got you so eager, Giyuuu?” Your voice, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. As you purr his name with such pure sensuality. He nudges closer, thigh hitting the leg of the table—pushing it out the way. Even as he crowds against you from the sheer need to be close, he keeps that sliver of distance you put between his body and yours.
“You—I’ve waited nearly a week for this.” He tell you, glancing from your lips to your eyes—and lips again. You softly giggle, and bring your hand out from around his head. Pressing your thumb against his cheek, pulling it down to press against the corner of his mouth.
“Tease.” He whispers under his breath, he catches your wrist between careful but strong fingers. Kissing the center of your palm, leaving kisses until he meets the inner part of your wrist where his eyes meet with your own.
“Can I kiss you, now?” He asks, quietly. Warm, breath fanning against your wrist as soft dark blue eyes met your lowered ones.
Warmth blooms throughout your body, clouding thoughts, bringing about need. Fanning desire within the deepest parts of you.
“Say, please.”
Giyuu’s eyes flutter, keeps your hand near his cheek as he pressed his lips against your wrist again. While murmuring into you with soft eyes.
“Please?” He whines lowly.
The way to the bed was disastrous. An entanglement of kisses, need and eager touch. Giyuu lifted you against him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues wrapped around each others, his arms tightened around your body as he slid the sliding door opened.
As your tongue explored the crevices of his mouth, shoved and stroked his tongue—he could feel his heart racing. Fingers twitching around your hips as he lowered himself onto the futon.
The room was lit with a warm glow from the lamp in the corner of the room. With paintings of familiarity, bringing about that familiar comfort you both shared together. In a haste to feel each other, your lips part to help remove your clothing as Giyuu’s tugs became more insistent.
Giyuu’s dazed—lost in the feel of your body. In the fact he was able to wait this long to finally be in this moment. Your skin presses against his, bare and warm as you straddle his hips.
The taste of your lips are addictive, something he craves restlessly. The feel of your tongue as you effortlessly take control of it. It’s warm like the desire he feels for you everyday, though more experienced.
Slower, sweeter. It’s gentle in the way that makes his heart ache with how much he feels for you. He won’t ever be able to get enough of you. He knows it now. Your lips press against his, as you bring your foreheads together.
Giyuu’s first to break the silence as his fingers move up and down your hips feeling the way you tremble in response.
“Can I—can I you touch now?” He asks.
You lift your head to look at him, smiling.
“Do you remember what I showed you?”
Giyuu’s always been a fast learner, he’s sure of it. When it came to your pleasure there was nothing like pleasing you. With a switch in position, he’s hovering over you. Hands trembling as they explore the curves of your body. Fingers brushing against your pebbled nipples.
Lips grazing your throat. Leaving messy, and wet kisses across the skin as you lay beneath him. One of his hands slide down your inner thigh, and you part your legs to allow him easier access.
His fingers move upwards, over your mound. Down against your warm folds, he uses a single finger to part them. Finding the slick between. Exposing your entrance to his lust blown eyes.
He glances up the check your expression; as you direct that he continue. He strokes your clit gently, applying enough pressure for you to feel it and pant softly in response.
Eyelashes fluttering.
He moves his fingers through your wet slit, prodding your entrance before pressing two of them inside without warning—though patience he pushed them slowly until they were fully sheathed inside of you.
Voice feeling stuck in your throat, you could all but shift your hips slightly.
“It’s this good?” He questions tentatively, eyes glazed with want. He was hard, leaking at the tip—craving your attention while still managing to be so good for you.
“I wanna hear your voice.”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, sharp but not cruel. Just enough to stop you from reminding him to do so and instead to listen to how you moan instead.
“Mmhf—like that—just—“
Giyuu smiles softly, happiest pleasing you. He pulls his fingers out about half way before thrusting them back inside, simultaneously stroking your sweet spot.
Expression melted; the praise that left you seemed all but natural. “Right t-there…good boy giyuu—“ you gasp, you could all but break him with the sound of your voice. The need you brought about inside him was sinful. Like filth he could never scrub off.
Giyuu fingers explored your deepest parts, movements languid but merciless. The glide through your cunt was easy, your warm slick easing the way as he worked—and toyed with your sweet spot. His skin was growing too warm—seeing you like this.
Flushed and blissful. Egging him one, bucking your hips into his palm—urging him to give you more.
He wouldn’t survive—
Your voice though, grounded him through it all as he gradually lost his composure. And you so unaware as promised you’d give him whatever he wanted, whatever he needed.
“Sooo good G-Giyuu, you’re such a quick learner—“ you’d coo at him, and his heart would blaze.
Telling him how good he was, how perfect.
“C’mere.” You breathe out, outstretching your arms. Giyuu moves without thought while he keepd his fingers inside your gushing cunt aware that you were trying to hold your orgasm back. Your arms wrap around his neck as you bring him in for a reckless kiss.
Lips mashing against his—and from the messiness of the kiss you both were long gone in a fervent embrace.
Giyuu was long past recuperation. When you brought your hips back down, swallowing up the entirety of his cock with your soft pliable walls—all he could muster up was a choked sob.
Fingers ripping into the futon, a failing attempt to ground himself as you throughly enjoyed having your way with him.
“Giyuu—I c-can’t hear you.” You purr, hips bouncing up and down his cock. It’s not like you weren’t losing your mind also, after he’d made you come helplessly on his fingers.
But the constant nudge of his pretty cock head against your g-spot was addictive.
Giyuu gasps sharply, expression twisting as you clench your walls around him. Dragging your hips up slowly before roughly bringing them back down again. Eyes rolling back as he did everything—to stop himself from sobbing.
“P—please—I-oh—mhh! I..” he drawls, fingers twisting into the covers as his hips tremble beneath yours.
You smile, shoving your hips down particularly hard and grinding your clit against his pelvis. Taking him deeper—
“Mm’ yeahh—I can’t hear you, you were being so good e-earlier…what happened?” You coo, trying to keep yourself from drooling as you pressed your lips closed. Hands tightening against his abs as they clench.
“I w—wanna c-cum!” He abruptly sobs, earning a mean giggle and an rougher grind of your hips again in response.
The heat of your walls, the messiness of your slick as you coat his cock from tip to base. Was the best kind of torture and the worst.
“Awn…does my giyuu need to cum?” You question, eyes rolling when your head tilted back briefly. Giyuu watches—lost and in so much aw as pleasure wracks your expression.
Pleasure only he could give you.
He forgets you can feel the eager ruts of his hips, the throb of his cock as he attempts to cum—suddenly. Almost immediately your hips came to a stop upon notice.
He wails, broken and wet—as tears well in his eyes. “ I—I’m sorry—s-sorry, ugh—please- it’s so g-good I-didn’t mean to—“ he whimpers shamelessly, while still covering his face with his arm.
“Your—mm’ just tooo t-tight-“ he gasps brokenly.
Your eyes lit up at his display, the obvious embarrassment he felt because of his impatience. The flush that grew from his ears and spread to his cheeks. The tears of frustration despite willing obeying.
The vulnerability in giving you control—
“Sweet, Giyuu.” You murmur softly, sliding your fingers up his chest. Thumb pressing against his chin, bringing it down to un-part his pouty lips.
“Hm?” He murmurs back, arm still over his face.
“Look at me.”
He sniffles in response, and slowly removes his arm from his eyes; the muscle flexing with restraint as he stares up at you.
You glance at his mouth again and pull your hand back to crook a finger at him. He follows and sits up, arms wrapping around your waist as your hips began to deliberately move against him. Riding him with such grace.
He gasps softly as you take his mouth against yours, hands holding his onto cheeks as you keep him where you want him. He eagerly parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your tongue inside.
It was reverent, warm—endearing. Tender. Everything he’d been wanting. You pull away to take a small breath, yet stay close enough to breathe him in.
And he sees it, the admiration in your expression. The longing in your eyes.
“I missed you,” he finally says, eyes bright.
“I missed you so much— I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“I don’t know what I’d ever do without you…”
He mutters, eyes flicking across your face, as if he were trying to remember every inch—every freckle and blemish.
“I wanna stay with you, w—will you stay with me, Forever?”
Your eyes widen, just enough for him to know you understood. Your hold on his face tightens subtly—as you caress his warm cheeks. His fingers tightening around your waist as you flutter around him.
“I’ll stay with you forever. Nothing can tear us apart, Giyuu.”
“I promise.”
The desire in which he feels for you explodes like a never dying fire in his chest. And he leans back up to kiss you. The pace of your hips increase as you grow lost in your passion. The promise of forever has its effect.
And you both know it’s everything and more.
Your breaths blur together, heavy breathing accompanied by your hips smacking against his. The slick’ sounds of your cunt as you take him deeply. Buried inside you all he can manage is a whimper—a soft shaky whine as his cock grows sensitive.
“I ca—can’t—“ he chokes out, hands moving down your hips like he plans to stop you. But all he can do is hold on.
“You can—w-we’re almost there.”
“Good…just a little more.”
Giyuu’s breath falters as he chokes back desperate pleas to cum. Hips twitching as yours start to tremble. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your bodies closer. Voice clouding his mind—making him dizzy.
The warmth of your cunt as you spasm around him—it grows painfully aware they he won’t be able to hold on any longer.
“C—cum! P—please, please-“ he sobs softly against the crevice of your neck. Lips and tongue dragging against a particular sensitive spot—and you keen against him.
Torture him with your moans and equally needy whines.
“Cum—cum inside me Giyuu.”
“Insidee—?” He barely gets to question it before he’s exploding, you slam your hips down. Taking his cock deep enough to have him snug against your cervix. He fills your womb with heavy spurts of scalding heat—hands tight around your hips as his entire body quakes from the force of his climax.
The force of his orgasm rips one right through you, walls convulse cruelly around his already exploding cock. Milking him of every ounce of cum he’s ever had. Your breath is lost—some where.
Disoriented, still feeling the effects of his orgasm—and yours. He drags you back with your hips still against his. Helping you ride it out. Pecking your lips abruptly, catching you off guard as he grinds his cock head against your cervix.
“Mine—mine o-okay?” He breaths against your lips, voice trembling as he speaks. Making you giggle softly—you almost agree.
Unaware.
But forced to be so aware when you find yourself staring back into the still—unchecked desire that you were sure—in this moment border-lined on obsession.
“I want more…please?”
When you wake up hours later, the sun is bright in your face. And you find that the other side of the futon was empty. Realizing that Giyuu probably had an extra earlier morning.
You pushed back the covers and found that you were dressed.
When your night eventually ended—some point or another when the sun had began to rise. You and Giyuu washed up together, sharing a warm bath.
During that time he let you to wash his hair for him—though seeing as you accidentally fell asleep halfway. Hunched over his back through the process. He finished you both up in the end.
Dried you gently, and coaxed you awake so you could have a small drink of water and a light snack so you at least have a little energy in the morning.
after he dressed you and laid you back down—you were sure that he hadn’t immediately left. You could still smell the scent of his skin when he had cuddled up against you.
“I love you..” he whispered under his breath, fingers caressing the side of your face as he watched you.
You’d mutter back in response that you also loved him—and he’d flinched and immediately retract his hand. Asking if you were awake.
Only to find out you hadn’t been, and were simply responding to him in your sleep.
After that he got himself ready for the day, and kissed your forehead before leaving.
You glance down at your wrist, pulling back the sleeve to find a couple leftover hickeys and bite marks. Swallowing—but smiling. You were aware that you’d probably find more up your chest and neck. It hadn’t taken a genius to know.
“Silly, Giyuu.”
From where the sound hashira, and the flame hashira sat they could see you and Giyuu talking before you passed a neatly wrapped bento—from what they could guess and smell. Food for him.
“Ah…he totally got laid. Didn’t he?” Tengen grins, noticing that look on his face with eyes like a hawk.
Giyuu smiles, face unnaturally bright—as he checks what was inside. Finding that it was his favorite food, simmered salmon and daikon. Along with other treats you had made. He walks off—with the brightest smile they’d ever seen him wear. He was sure to enjoy his meal in private while thinking of you.
“Wow! How vulgar!” Kyojuro exclaims, arms crossed over his chest.
Hearing all the noise being made, Sanemi couldn’t help but over hear. Eyes wide—and probably disgusted from what anyone could guess.
day two: — pegging, praise/degradation — giyuu tomioka
⚠️ Content Warning:
18 + / NSFW
Pegging / strap-on play
Male bottom / female top dynamics
Praise + light degradation / humiliation
Subspace / intense sexual vulnerability
Body trembling, moaning, orgasm control
Breathplay and restrained vocalizations (non-dangerous)
Fingering / anal penetration / fluid mention
enjoy!
-------------
giyu is like stone when you tell him to get on the bed. shoulders squared, jaw tight, that same stubborn silence he always wears like armor. you can see the faint flush on his cheeks though, betraying him, and that makes you smile.
“don’t look so tense,” you murmur, nudging him with a hand at the small of his back. “you trust me, don’t you?”
his nod is almost imperceptible. he doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to—because the way his fingers curl in the sheets as he kneels is enough.
you take your time. that’s the fun of it. easing him out of his uniform layers, letting his hair fall loose around his flushed face, kissing down the taut muscles of his back just to watch him shiver. giyu keeps his lips pressed tight together, holding in every sound, and you can tell already he’s going to make you work for it.
“still so quiet,” you hum against the nape of his neck. your hands stroke down his sides, nails grazing. “but i’ll have you talking soon.”
when you part his thighs and slick your fingers, he jolts—just slightly—but doesn’t protest. not verbally. instead his hips twitch forward as though betraying him, and you press a kiss to his shoulder blade.
“good boy.” the praise is soft, warm. it makes his ears go scarlet.
sliding one finger in is easy; he’s already trembling with how carefully you prepared him earlier. by the time you work him open to three, his head is bowed, hair hiding his face, and his breath is uneven against the sheets.
“don’t hide from me.” you curl your fingers just right and watch his body jolt, a strangled gasp spilling before he can catch it. “there it is. that’s what i wanted to hear.”
you withdraw slowly, slick dripping down your palm, and strap in with deliberate pace. giyu peeks over his shoulder, pupils wide, lips parted. he looks wrecked already—and you haven’t even touched him with it yet.
“i’ll be gentle,” you promise, though your smirk says otherwise. “but you’re going to take all of it for me.”
the blunt head nudges against him, and giyu’s knuckles go white where he grips the sheets.
“say it,” you murmur, leaning over his ear. “tell me you’re ready.”
it takes him a moment, fighting that stubborn pride. finally—
“…ready.”
the word is breathless, barely audible, but enough.
and when you start to press in, inch by slow inch, giyu trembles like he’s never known what it means to let go.
he’s biting it back. you can tell. every twitch of his jaw, every stutter in his breath, every shiver that runs through him—he’s dying to make a sound but refuses.
you push deeper, slow, deliberate, until the strap is fully seated inside him and his whole body bows, muscles drawn tight. his shoulders quake under your hands.
“fuck, look at you,” you whisper, sliding one hand under his chest to feel the frantic beat of his heart. “taking me so well. my quiet little good boy.”
the praise slips into him like heat, but he still doesn’t speak. doesn’t whimper. only clutches the sheets like a lifeline, face pressed down so you can’t see.
you pull out halfway and sink back in hard. the wet slap of your hips makes him jerk, a strangled noise choking at the back of his throat before he swallows it down.
“don’t you dare hide that from me,” you scold, voice low and sharp against his ear. “i want to hear it. every sound. you don’t get to keep it to yourself.”
his breath shudders out, a little ragged now, and you can feel his restraint breaking. your pace steadies—deep, steady thrusts that grind against that spot inside him until he can’t help the muffled groan that slips free.
“there we go,” you murmur, pressing kisses along his shoulder as your hips roll harder. “so pretty when you make noise for me.”
“n—ngh—” he tries, the syllable caught between pain and pleasure, and you grin.
“what was that?” you mock gently. “too much? or not enough?”
you angle your hips, hitting him deeper, sharper, and this time he gasps—loud and raw—hand flying up to bite into his knuckles.
you grab his wrist, pin it down to the sheets. “uh-uh. no hiding. i want the whole room to hear how good i’m fucking you.”
he shivers, eyes squeezed shut, the tiniest whimper spilling from him now with every thrust.
and then, broken, hoarse:
“…feels—so good—”
the sound makes you ache.
₊˚.༄ ✧˚.
he’s trembling under you before you’ve even started moving again, every muscle in his back and thighs strung tight, his breath coming out in these shallow little bursts like he’s barely keeping it together. his knuckles are white where they clutch the sheets, body arching into every push of your hips like he can’t decide if he wants to escape it or drown in it.
“look at you,” you murmur, sliding your hand down the slope of his spine, pressing into the dip of his lower back so you can sink even deeper. “shaking like a leaf already. so sensitive for me.”
the words make him shudder harder, a strangled whimper spilling free before he can bite it back. you drag out of him slow, then slam back in with a wet slap that knocks another sound loose, something cracked and desperate.
“that’s it,” you breathe, lips brushing his ear, “let me hear you. don’t hold it in.”
your pace builds, hips snapping into his in a steady, ruthless rhythm. every thrust drives him closer to the edge, the veins in his forearms straining as he claws at the mattress. the sounds coming out of him are scattered now—half-gasps, broken moans, little cries that slip through his bitten lip no matter how hard he tries to stay quiet.
“such a good boy,” you croon, dragging your nails lightly across his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “taking it so well, even when you’re shaking all over my cock.”
he whines at that, body spasming around the strap, and you know you’ve got him—pulled tight between humiliation and bliss.
“fuck, listen to yourself,” you taunt, thrusting deeper, sharper, until his whole body jolts with each movement. “you sound so pathetic. my perfect little mess.”
his breath hitches violently at the word, thighs trembling under the strain of holding himself up. you grip his hips, slam into him harder, and his arms give out—he collapses into the sheets, face buried, body convulsing with every stroke.
“too much?” you mock, dragging his head back by the hair so he can’t hide. his eyes are glassy, mouth open, drool slicking the corner of his lips. “or do you love it, baby? love being ruined like this?”
his answer is a wrecked moan, long and broken, spilling from him without thought. you feel him clench around you, trembling violently, begging without words.
“use your voice,” you demand, snapping your hips forward hard enough to make the headboard slam against the wall. “tell me what you want.”
his chest heaves, voice cracking as he finally manages, “p-please—please don’t stop—feels s-so good—”
your grin is feral, pace unrelenting as his body melts under you, reduced to nothing but pleading whimpers and the sound of his shaking breaths.
“that’s my boy,” you whisper, bending to kiss the sweat at the nape of his neck. “my perfect, sensitive little baby.”
and the way he cries out at that—loud, shameless, wrecked—makes you swear you’ll never let him go quiet again.
every muscle in his arms taut like he’s trying to keep himself composed, but his thighs keep quivering no matter how hard he bites down on the inside of his cheek. giyu’s always been so careful, so restrained, like he doesn’t want anyone to see too much of him, but right now? every wall he’s built is crumbling with every slow push of your strap.
he’s gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing tethering him to earth, knuckles going white, head turned to the side so you can’t see his face—except you can. you can see the way his lashes flutter and the soft, desperate parting of his lips when you grind deep, nudging just the right spot inside him.
"y-you shouldn’t—" he chokes out, but the rest of the sentence dies in his throat, broken into a shaky whimper as his hips arch up against you.
"shouldn’t what, baby?" your voice is syrup-sweet, dragging him down even further. "shouldn’t take it so well? shouldn’t be dripping on the sheets when you swore you’d be quiet?"
the flush racing up his throat betrays him, betrays how much the words stick to his skin. giyu doesn’t answer—he can’t. he only makes this strangled sound, something between a gasp and a moan, when you angle your hips just right, the rhythm slow and cruelly steady.
his cock is leaking against his stomach, precum staining his pale skin. every roll of your hips makes it twitch, his abs trembling as though his body is begging for mercy even while he shakes his head weakly, unable to form the word "stop."
"look at you," you murmur, leaning forward, making him feel every inch of you pressing in. "so quiet all the time, but now? you’re falling apart on my cock."
that does it. giyu shudders violently, toes curling against the mattress, and this soft, broken cry slips out of him. his whole body spasms, and for the first time, he looks up at you, eyes glassy, pupils blown so wide it’s like he can’t even see straight anymore.
"p-please—" he manages, but he doesn’t know what he’s asking for. more? less? permission to fall apart? his mind is foggy, unraveling fast, every thrust pulling him deeper into that sweet, submissive haze.
you keep your pace, tender but relentless, whispering praise and filth into his ear. "such a good boy, taking it so deep. my perfect little swordsman, so desperate to be fucked dumb. you want everyone to think you’re strong, stoic—but look at you now. nothing but my cock and the way it makes you shake."
giyu whimpers, choked and wet, and the sound is devastatingly sweet. he can’t hold himself together anymore. his body’s betraying him, rolling into every thrust, chasing the drag and burn even while his lips babble nonsense, fragments of words that don’t make sense.
"please, please, please—" he breathes, voice cracking, and he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, only that his body is desperate to be taken apart completely.
he’s gone, mind melted into pure sensation, and you can feel it in the way his hole clenches desperately around you, in the way his hands finally let go of the sheets just so he can clutch at you instead, grounding himself in your warmth.
all he can do is sob and shake and take everything you give him.
“that’s right,” you coo, voice teasing, letting the praise and degradation blur together. “so quiet all the time, so rigid… and now look at you. all mine. shaking and leaking for me, good boy.”
he moans, ragged and unsteady, hips jerking as your pace picks back up—slow, deliberate, enough to make him melt into the mattress with every push. his moans break out in bursts now, uncontrolled, and you can feel him softening and clenching around you at the same time, lost in subspace, mind foggy with sensation.
“look at you,” you murmur, brushing your lips along his spine, “so fucking perfect, taking it like this. my little swordsman… ruined and trembling.”
he whimpers, and this time his hands reach back instinctively. your fingers meet his, and he curls around them, gripping tight as though holding onto you is the only thing keeping him tethered.
“that’s it, baby,” you whisper sweetly, leaning close so your lips brush his ear, “take me, my love… feel everything I’m giving you.”
he pants, voice rough, a mix of pleasure and desperation. “y-yes… don’t… stop… please…” his hand squeezes yours tighter, leaning back just enough to press his palm against yours, as if clinging to your presence lets him survive the delicious chaos inside him.
you grin, heart twisting at how utterly wrecked he is, and slide your hips harder, fast and relentless but still teasingly gentle in just the right moments. “that’s it… take it all, giyu… mine,” you coo.
and when he comes, trembling, sobbing, whole body quivering against yours, his hand still tangled in yours, you let him ride it out, slow and tender, grounding him in the only thing that matters: you.
he’s a mess, lost in subspace, but completely yours, his fingers tightening around yours as he clings to your warmth and the rhythm of your hips—soft, needy, and utterly undone.
when it finally slows, when he’s gasping and spent, you press your forehead to his back, letting him bury his face into the sheets in embarrassment, still clutching your hand.
“mine,” you whisper again, and he squeezes back, a soft, broken sound that’s all gratitude and trust, and you know,
he’s never letting go.
⟡ made by @flxttershyz , please do not copy or repost without consent!!⟡
Inexperienced Virgin!Giyu who’s never even touched himself, only ever cum in his sleep a few times by accident. And when you finally take him into your hot palm, he swears he’s seeing stars, crying out hoarsely as if he didn’t know it could feel good to have his cock touched. And as you work him diligently—ruthlessly to his fast-impending orgasm, he’s in tears over how good it feels.
He’s clinging onto you desperately, his eyes clenched and thin brows pinched in pained ecstasy. Shaking hands hold your shirt in a white-knuckled grip as he humps into the tight tunnel of your fist, trembling as your thumb mercilessly teases his slit. Pre beads at the tip relentlessly no matter how many times you smear it across his creamy head, and when you start to play with his balls he just can't hold on any longer.
His breath becomes frantic, and he struggles to form the right words to warn you.
“I-I think… I think something’s going t-to uhn, come out- please!” his shaking voice pitches higher, mewls forced from his throat as his peak hits him like a train. The feeling is intense and hellish hot, cum jetting out of him and spilling over your fingers. He cries out helplessly, widened blue eyes staring into nothing as he convulses and writhes, hips jerking with every pulse.
You coo at him and stroke him through it, leaning down to swallow his desperate moans with your lips. Eventually, he tugs at your wrist, whimpering that it's "t-too much, it's too much."
they call him the water pillar for a reason ahahahaha 🌊🌊🌊🌊
giyuu throws his head back, residing in the soft material of your shirt. the sweat coating his face sinks into the fabric and you cringe at the moist feeling. your hand trails up to firmly grip his face, forcing him to look at himself in the mirror, forcing him to look at the way you furiously pump his cock with little remorse, the tip flushing a bright red. he lets out an audible whine, face transcending into a deep shade of pink. embarrassment soaring throughout his body, "look at yourself giyuu" your tone was honeyed, "don't you see how beautiful you look?" you flash him a wicked grin.
he parts his lips to respond with a subtle smack, but words die on his tongue. being replaced with a sultry moan as your thumb drags over his slit, his abs clench and his body convulses, signifying he was reaching his high.
"pa-pa-plea-" he chokes on his words "c-cumin' I'm--" he sputters incoherent words, "go ahead n'cum giyuu, you've been such a good boy for me" you praise, continuing to stroke him as he feverishly nods.
he spills into your palm, every muscle in his body clenching as he orgasms. he murmurs quiet "thank yous" once his climax subsides. you hum in contentment as he slumps against you, "you did a great job giyuu, so proud."
Warnings:smut? Suggestive,Pet names, good boy,both of them are slight pervs ooops.
Giyuu Tomioka. Shy. Quiet. Mostly a loner.
To say he’s your best friend even though he’s never really said a word to you just simple things like hello or bye. But you had such an infatuation with him He would never talk to you he would just sit and listen.
You would like to think you’re his best friend at least he’s never said no. Only if he would talk to you.
You’re starting to feel like you’re annoying him just because he doesn’t actually talk. But that’s not the case he honestly gets so lost in your voice it makes me crazy. He loves the sound of your voice.
he feels like some kind of perv because he’s almost 100% sure he could get off on only your voice. that’s why he’s so silent all of the time. He knows he’ll randomly whimper if he starts talking. he’s so scared he’s going to lose you.
“Giyuu.?”
he looks at you.
“Am i annoying you.?”
his eyes widen and shakes his head no.
“But why won’t you talk to me.?”
he’s so scared he’s going to lose you. so he speaks up.
“Because..”
Your eyes widen and reached for his hand holding it between both of yours.
“i don’t want to lose you..” he says in a whisper.
“What do you mean..? You’ll never lose me Giyuu..”
“But..”
“But what Giyuu..?”
“i’m scared to say..”
“Please just tell me.”
he doesn’t. he’s too scared to but he does something he never thought he would actually do.
He kisses you. Hard. What he didn’t expect was for you to reciprocate the kiss. You deepened the kiss. pulling him closer to you.
He pulls away. Blushing hard. his face is bright red. he’s looking away.
“Was this your first kiss Giyuu.?”
he looks away not wanting to catch your eyes when you grab his chin making him look at you and you kiss him again hard.
“You know you’re cute when your shy.”
“please keep talking to me. I love your voice.” he says quietly.
you smirk a little.
“Oh my sweet boy has a voice kink, how cute.”
“Yes.. oh my god.”
You’re living for this. you think he’s the cutest. at least you’re as much of a perv as he is.
you softly kiss behind his ear and whispered.
“what does my sweet boy want?”
he’s shaking from your breath grazing his ear whimpering softly to himself.
“anything.. mommy.. please..”
He’s got you feeling some kind of way. you weren’t really a dominate person. But you love every moment of this.
“mhm.. anything huh, baby?”
“Yes please!”
you kiss him softly this time.
“You’re so pretty all flustered baby”
You’re slowly rubbing his thighs. he’s still flustered red faced he’s softly moaning.
Demon!Reader biting Giyu when they fuck, and he likes it, but you’re usually just so careful with him that he wonders what he did so wrong to deserve it.
“You’re just so cute, it’s hard for me to not just eat you right up.”
-someone who most definitely does not have a name as silly as ‘lune.’ Imagine that.
Just imagining riding him into oblivion. Pinning him down and taking what you need from him without mercy. Leaving him reeling beneath you. He's making a mess of himself, tears bubbling at the corners of his pretty sapphire eyes, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his even prettier dick from a previous release as you bounce on him.
The action that spells his doom is when he throws his head back, baring his pale throat to you as if you aren’t by all intents and purposes, a predator. Your mouth waters, saliva filling your mouth and before you can think to stop yourself, You’re lurching forward to claim your quarry.
Giyu shouts hoarsely at the feeling of your fangs piercing the flesh between his neck and shoulder, wine-colored blood dribbling down to pool at his collarbone. His cock throbs, his legs kicking uselessly as the harsh pang of pain mixes with the pleasure of your hole swallowing him. His first thought is that he’s done something to make you angry, and his heart sinks. But you haven’t slowed your hips in the slightest, and you’re lapping at his blood quite happily, caressing the length of his throat as you suckled at the wound.
When you finally pull away from his neck and see his dazed and confused expression, you can’t help but grin. You drag the tip of your long tongue over your blood-stained lips, catching any stray droplets. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself when you look so delectable beneath me, Gi.”
That’s all it takes for him to throw his head back again with a whine and blow his load, back arching off the bed all prettily as he pumps you full of cum <3
