#tomioka

[so6ncie]

── 𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. 𝒯𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐒 fucking you in public ! nsfw, public sex, explicit themes, female reader, non-vanilla content ☆ characters featured: giyu, shinobu, kyojuro, tengen, mitsuri, muichiro, obanai, sanemi, gyomei author's note ♡ here's your meal for today... eat it up

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 The quiet of the forest didn’t matter to him. You were on your knees against a mossy rock, your breath shaking as Giyu’s hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. His usually stoic voice cracked low, muttering against your ear, “No one else… only I get to see you like this.”

His thrusts were slow at first, dragging deep inside you as if he wanted to memorize every reaction. But once he felt you clench around him, his rhythm turned punishing, the water of his breath against your neck as ragged as the river crashing nearby.

You tried to move your hands, but his calloused fingers pinned them down, holding you steady as he drove harder. Every wet slap echoed in the open air, and your muffled whimpers only seemed to make him push deeper, needing you to drown under him.

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎 Shinobu loved the sound of your pleading. You were flat on your back on her futon, wrists tied above your head with silk ribbon. Her smile was deceptively sweet, violet eyes glimmering as she moved her hips just enough to brush against you—never enough to satisfy.

“Oh? Did you think I’d let you finish so soon?” she teased, her soft voice dripping with mockery. She slid her tongue along your collarbone before sinking her teeth in lightly, leaving sharp crescent marks.

You gasped, arching, but she only laughed, grinding down once before pulling away completely. Every little whimper had her smirking more, savoring how she could control every twitch of your body. The final straw was her lips brushing yours, whispering: “Beg harder.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 Your back slammed into a tree trunk, bark digging into your skin as Rengoku’s burning gaze locked on yours. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease before slamming inside you with a force that left you gasping. “Beautiful... You’re taking me so well.” he roared, each thrust deep and fiery.

The warmth of his body consumed you, sweat dripping down his temple as he buried his face into your neck, groaning your name. His pace was wild, almost desperate, like he was chasing the flames themselves, needing to leave his heat inside you.

You clawed at his shoulders, whimpering as he praised every reaction, every squeeze, every cry. His last thrusts were brutal, claiming you completely as he panted against your lips: “You’re mine.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈 Tengen had you bent over the edge of a rooftop, the lantern light of the city flickering below. “Now this,” he drawled, his voice dripping with cocky satisfaction, “is what you call flamboyant.”

Each thrust made your body jolt, your moans dangerously close to being overheard. His jeweled hands wrapped around your waist, nails digging into your skin as he pulled you back onto him. “Louder,” he commanded, smirking when you bit your lip.

“Don’t hold back—let them all know who’s fucking you.” His pace was unrelenting, brutal, almost showy in its rhythm. The thrill of being seen only made him harder, his breath hot on your ear as he growled, “You’re perfect like this, my extravagant little prize.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈 Mitsuri couldn’t stop gushing—both with words and with need. She dragged you into a quiet shrine, tugging your robes down with trembling hands. “You’re so pretty, I could eat you alive!” she whined, her mouth finding your neck as her hips pressed frantically against yours. When she shoved you back onto the floor and settled between your legs, her gasp was needy, almost a sob, as she buried her face against your wetness.

“Ahhh—you taste so good, I love it, I love it!” she moaned, tongue lapping eagerly while her fingers curled deep inside you. Her hips rocked against the floor as if she could fuck herself on nothing, whining louder with every cry you made. She clung to your thighs like she’d never let go, every wet suck and sloppy kiss paired with praise until you could hardly breathe.

When your orgasm hit, she moaned with you, drinking it all in before pulling up to kiss you messily, whispering, “Please, let me have more—I want all of you so badly.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎 Muichiro was eerily calm as he pressed you against the training room wall. His blank teal eyes never left yours, as though he wanted to watch every flicker of expression. His thrusts were steady, deep, dragging slow moans out of you until you had to cover your mouth.

“Don’t,” he murmured flatly, removing your hand from your lips. “I want to hear you.” His fingers slipped around your throat, not squeezing, just holding—reminding you he was in control. Each roll of his hips had you shaking, your legs trembling around his waist as he tilted his head, studying you like an art piece.

“You feel… good,” he admitted softly, voice detached, almost dreamy. “Like a haze I don’t want to clear.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 Obanai dragged you into the shadows of the barracks, his mismatched eyes glinting with hunger. His scarf was shoved down just enough to bare his lips as he kissed you hard, biting until you whimpered. “No one else gets to touch you,” he hissed, his grip bruising on your hips as he slammed into you. His thrusts were rough, punishing, almost punishingly deep.

The sensation of his body coiling around yours, his hands tightening on your throat, left you dizzy with need. He marked your skin with sharp bites, each one a warning, each one a claim. “Mine,” he growled, his voice hoarse, “mine forever.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 Sanemi didn’t care that you were half-undressed in the middle of a training field. He had shoved you over the railing, yanking your hair back as he rammed into you. “You love this, don’t you? Filthy girl,” he snarled, teeth gritted as he used you with brutal force.

Every thrust made the railing creak, every curse spilling from his lips like a storm. Your cries only egged him on, his hand smacking your ass hard enough to sting.

“Say it—say you’re my slut,” he demanded, growling when you obeyed. He leaned over you, panting against your ear, his pace violent, merciless, until you were a trembling mess. “That’s right… only for me.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 Gyomei’s massive hands cradled your body as though you were glass, even as his hips drove forward with overwhelming power. The quiet temple echoed with your gasps, your body dwarfed beneath his towering frame. “Forgive me,” he whispered, voice trembling, “but I cannot hold back when it comes to you.”

His thrusts were deep, deliberate, each one pulling cries from your throat. The rosary beads in his hand clinked with every movement, his forehead pressed to yours as he panted.

“You are divine,”

he groaned, his voice breaking, “and I… am lost in you.” Every motion was reverent, worshipful, but still relentless, his strength unyielding as he made you shudder beneath his devotion.

— 𝐬𝐨𝟔𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞 2025: do not republish or copy any of my works. 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 are open < request here >

[moviecritc]

down bad!giyuu tomioka fluff headcanons. ˚.✦

down bad!giyuu tomioka who memorizes the exact way you stir your tea (three clockwise swirls, one tap against the rim) and starts doing it unconsciously when he’s alone, then panics if anyone notices.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who stands three paces behind you during Hashira meetings, close enough to catch the faint scent of your soap, far enough that no one thinks he’s hovering.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who keeps a spare hair tie in his sleeve because you once lost yours mid-mission and spent twenty minutes complaining about flyaways. He never mentions it. Just slides it onto your wrist when you’re not looking.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who starts carrying two rice balls to every training session (one for him, one for you) and pretends he “accidentally” made extra. You always take the one with the seaweed shaped like a tiny fish. He starts shaping them that way on purpose.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who lingers after joint missions, sharpening his blade long after everyone else has left, just so he can walk you back to your estate under the pretense of “checking the perimeter.” The silence is comfortable, but his heart is loud enough he’s sure you hear it.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who starts leaving his haori draped over the engawa railing when he knows you’ll pass by. You always fold it neatly and leave it on the step. He starts doing it more often.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who learns the exact pitch of your laugh (the one you make when you’re genuinely happy, not the polite one) and replays it in his head on nights he can’t sleep. It’s better than any lullaby.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who stands outside your door after a nightmare, hand raised to knock, then lowers it and walks away. The next morning there’s a single persimmon on your doorstep. You know it’s from him.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who starts saying your name in his sleep. Tanjiro hears it once and smiles like he knows a secret. Giyuu pretends he doesn’t notice.

down bad!giyuu tomioka who finally works up the courage to ask you to train together at dawn. Just the two of you. He spends the entire night rehearsing how to say “I like the way you move” without sounding like a complete idiot.

He still sounds like a complete idiot.

You blush anyway.

a/n: this is a repost from my inactive side blog so if you already read this, no you didn't

[woundsandwisteria]

My Wife Wouldn’t LIke that

Giyu's Version

The Butterfly Estate breathed with the night paper doors sighing, cicadas whispering beyond the garden wall. You had been there since they brought him in, since Shinobu’s needles bit and the white bands were cinched snug around his ribs.

He almost never came back like this. Not him. Not the Hashira who moved like quiet water and never let the current take him. But tonight his haori was heavy with blood, his mouth drawn thin, his steps uneven. In the infirmary he’d tried to sit up twice murmuring that others needed the bed and when Shinobu told him to hold still, he went still the way a bowstring does: too tight, a breath from snapping.

“I’m treating you first,” Shinobu said mildly, palm settling on his shoulder. He turned his head away, jaw clenched.

“Help them,” he ground out. “I can wait.”

“You can’t,” she answered, and met your eyes before pressing the draught to his lips. “You’re not the only stubborn one in this room.”

Now he lay pale against the futon, breath steady but shallow. Your palm rested lightly over the bandages, right over his sternum, thumb tracing the edge where linen met skin, counting each slow thud as if the numbers themselves could keep him tethered.

“Come back to me,” you whispered, though he could not hear.

Lashes stirred. A faint crease formed between his brows; his gaze drifted ceiling beam, shoji, the dark spill of garden beyond—and then found you.

His chest rose under your hand. The little monitor at his side hiccuped. Beep—beep.

His voice came out rough and quiet. “…you shouldn’t touch me like that.” A beat, his eyes struggling to focus. “My wife wouldn’t like it.”

You blinked. “Giyu."

“She doesn’t like when… strangers touch my chest.”

“Giyu,” you said again, soft but steady. “I am your wife.”

The words hung there. For a heartbeat: only cicadas and the sharp herbal bite of antiseptic. Then his pulse tripped and the machine tattled—beep-beep-beep—as focus finally settled into his eyes.

Something unguarded opened in his face. Not a measured curve. A completely dopey little smile, earnest and crooked, like a secret falling out of his hands.

He looked down at your palm on his bandages as if it were the only true thing in the room. Words slipped out, soft and unfiltered, as if the medicine had taken the locks off his ribs along with the pain.

“She puts her hand there when I’m hurt,” he murmured. “Says it helps her breathe. It helps me.” His lashes fluttered. “She mends my haori when it tears. The stitches where the halves meet, small and close so no one sees.” His voice turned reverent, hushed. “One side is him. One side is her. She keeps them together for me.”

Your thumb stilled over the linen. Heat pricked your eyes.

“She warms the cup even when I’m late,” he went on, oblivious to the way your throat tightened. “Picks thread from my cuffs. Waits at the gate. Counts my breaths after the bad dreams.” The smile threatened again, foolish and honest. “Always finds my hand first.”

As if to prove it, his fingers twitched against the futon, searching. You laced your free hand with his before the reaching could turn into a flinch. Under your palm, his heartbeat steadied like it remembered the path. The monitor sang along. Beep—beep—beep.

Giyu’s mouth moved again, and this time the words were raw. “…I don’t—” He swallowed. His eyes skittered from yours and back, like he knew he shouldn’t say it and couldn’t stop. “I don’t… deserve it. Hashira. They made a mistake.” A thin breath. “It should’ve been—” His gaze flicked to the folded haori on the stool, to the seam where red met teal. “I’m just wearing borrowed colors.”

Your hand stayed light over his ribs never more than a feather’s weight. “You’re not borrowed,” you said, voice low and even, like telling a skittish animal the ground is solid. “And you’re not a mistake.”

The monitor evened out, a softer beep… beep… that made his eyes tip back to yours. That ridiculous little smile ghosted across his mouth, helpless.

He shifted, clumsy and sore, and brought your joined hands to his chest pressing them there as if to pin you in place. “Don’t go,” he mumbled, the words smudged at the edges.

“I’m here,” you answered.

“Stay,” he breathed, and the machine squealed like a delighted child.

You didn’t move your hand.

He drifted; you felt it in the looseness of his fingers, in the way his shoulders unwound a fraction at a time. Twice he startled, breath catching sharp like a stitch had tugged, and twice you smoothed your thumb along the edge of bandage and skin until the stutter eased. At some point his grip changed from seeking to holding: a quiet, dogged cling that said more than words—more than he would ever allow himself to say awake. When his cheek turned into your palm on instinct, the monitor hopped again. You pretended not to notice. The nurse pretended not to exist. The night breathed on.

—

Dawn laid a pale square across the tatami. He woke to it, blinking, the world clearer but not yet cruel. Your hand was still where it had been all night; his was still over it, pinning you to him as if any looseness might let the tide carry you away.

“Thirsty?” you asked.

He nodded. Then, when you moved to reach for the cup, his hand tightened—just for a heartbeat, a wordless wait.

You paused. “I’m not going anywhere.” Only when his fingers eased did you pour, lift the bowl to his mouth, tip it carefully. He drank obediently for once, eyes on yours, the line of his shoulders lower than the day before.

Shinobu slid the door open with her usual bright calm. “Good morning,” she sang lightly, taking in the picture: your palm at his sternum, his hand locked over yours, the steady rise and fall under neat white bands.

“Don’t say it,” you warned.

“I was only going to say,” she replied, lips twitching, “that his pulse is excellent when his wife is present.” The clip on his finger answered for her with a perfectly timed beep. She pretended to check a chart. “And that if he even thinks of standing, I’ll sedate him again.”

Giyu stared at the ceiling, mortified and—betrayal of betrayals—relaxed. “I’m not going anywhere,” he muttered.

“Good,” Shinobu said, satisfied. She stepped out, the door whispering shut.

You settled back onto your heels. He looked at you, and for once he didn’t try to rebuild the mask all at once. The medicine’s softness still clung to him in frayed threads. It made him foolishly honest, made him brave in a way sobriety never did.

“Thank you,” he said, like the words cost something and he was paying anyway.

“For what?”

“For… keeping them together.” His gaze flicked to the haori on the stool, to the seam where your tiny, careful stitches disappeared between red and teal. He swallowed. “For keeping me together.”

Your answer was the same as it had been all night: a steady palm over his heart, light and sure. The machine didn’t need to tattle. The room already knew—his pulse had settled, his shoulders had dropped, and the storm he’d dragged back from the dark had finally passed beneath the Butterfly Estate’s gentle eaves.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist

[lookmiik]

random bullshit GO!!!! (+some fem sanegiyuu ^-^)

[minthy]

the more You complain about #sanegiyuu, the cringier and sappier I will make them

I'm just projecting onto sanemi, giyuu is my(our) muse (actually I'm projecting on both, don't take my shit seriously)

[nerdyweebfreak]

source: haruka's garden / dividers: cafekitsune

𝐭𝐡𝐞

— HASHIRAS —

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 "𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮" 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 ♡

-

starring: (giyuu, obanai, sanemi, gyomei, kyojuro, tengen)

tw: passionate sex, praising, compliments, emotional, fluff, crying during sex?

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 ➤ "giyuu- i love you-"

giyuu's eyes widen slightly. his face buried in the nook of your neck, he slowly pulls away a little. you can tell his breath is quickening, despite staying still.

giyuu has never been able, or comfortable, with showing, or reacting to emotions. he'd always bury them down within himself, although, he couldn't deny that he felt them so strongly.

giyuu blushes heavily. without saying a word, he rests his hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft, passionate kiss.

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ➤ "i love you. i love y---" "i-i love you too y/n." he whispers, lovingly, before you can finish the sentence.

his reply is so fast, it almost sounds like he was waiting for it. his grip gets tighter as he says it. his pace quickens. "i love you so much, y/n. you're mine." obanai holds you tight in his arms as he makes love to you, tirelessly, softly gazing at your beautiful silhouette. He wishes this moment could last forever.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ➤ "sanemi i- i love you."

sanemi scoffs. "f-fuck, y/n. yeah?" he pants heavily, his hand on your waist, the other one on the back of your head, intertwining his fingers with your hair. "shit, me too." sanemi kisses down your chest, possessively. "i need you."

"ive always liked you." sanemi's touch feels hot on your skin, and his thrusts, slow but deep, are making you feel every inch of him.

despite the sweat, the steaminess of his words, and the aggressiveness of his touch, you feel deeply loved.

𝐆𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐢 ➤ "gyo.. i love you.."

you say, as the strong man guides you on his lap. suddenly, hearing your words, he holds you against his chest, without slipping out of you. he holds you with such strenght, you can feel his heartbeat merge into yours.

"i love you too, angel." his voice rumbles. tears stream down his face, cheeks, and chin. "let me make you mine forever." his voice sounds so soft, wholesome and passionate.

"my angel.. my angel.. my angel.." he keeps chanting, as he continues guiding your hips, lovedrunkly.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ➤ "i love you.. i love you."

kyojuro stops for a second.

"wait, you too? you.. you love me too?" he smiles softly. intertwining his fingers with yours, he pulls you in closer. he kisses you, softly moaning in your mouth.

"i love you too... i was scared to tell you." he says, as his heat grows bigger and needier.

"i want you. so much. i want to be with you." he whispers, kissing your neck, down to your collarbones, holding your hands, slowly making love to you.

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 ➤ "i- i love you.."

tengen smiles. it's the brightest smile you've ever seen.

"i love you too. i love you."

from standing on his knees between your legs, the man leans down in order to be closer to you, as he keeps moving inside you. "you're so.. pretty.. so pretty.." his moans sound so soft in your ears, like a melody you've never heard before. "y/n.. i want to marry you.." he says, speeding up his pace, holding you close to him.

[raidenssblog]

the husband

Pairing - Giyuu x Husband reader a quick kiss gave you and Giyuus relationship away to his fellow hashiras

The afternoon sun stretched warmly across the stone pathways of the Hashira estate, golden light filtering through the trees while several crows perched along the rooftops above. Most of the Hashira remained gathered after Kagaya’s meeting, lingering in small groups with tea cups in hand while servants quietly moved around them collecting empty dishes. Giyu Tomioka stood, as always, slightly away from the others near the engawa, his expression unreadable as he stared out toward the gardens.

Shinobu had tried several times to drag him into conversation only for him to answer in short replies, and eventually everyone had simply accepted that Tomioka was being Tomioka again.

“You know,” Sanemi muttered while leaning back against one of the wooden pillars, “one day I wanna know what goes on in that damn head of yours.” Giyuu didn’t answer, which only made Sanemi scoff louder. “See? Nothin’. Empty.” Mitsuri let out a small nervous laugh while Obanai sighed beside her, already looking tired from the interaction before it had even properly begun. Before another argument could start, however, the sound of quick footsteps approaching the courtyard pulled everyone’s attention toward the entrance.

A young Demon Slayer wearing the standard Corps uniform stepped through the gate, your nichirin blade resting at your side while your haori shifted softly in the breeze.

The moment your eyes landed on Giyuu, your entire face brightened in a way that immediately stood out to everyone watching. “Giyuu,” you called gently, your voice warm and familiar as you approached him without hesitation. To everyone’s shock, the Water Hashira’s expression softened almost instantly, the icy distance in his eyes melting into something undeniably affectionate. It was subtle, but obvious enough that even Sanemi looked stunned into silence.

“You’re leaving already?” Giyuu asked quietly once you stopped in front of him, his voice noticeably softer than the one he used around the others. You lifted the mission scroll in your hand with a small sigh before nodding.

“A Kakushi brought in a report from the northern villages,” you explained. “Apparently the demon’s been attacking travelers at night, so they’re sending me and a few others to investigate.” Giyuu frowned slightly at that, his brows pulling together in concern. “You should be careful,” he murmured. “If anything feels wrong, retreat immediately and send for help.” You smiled at him fondly, reaching across to adjust the edge of his haori. “I know,” you teased softly. “You remind me every mission.”

The rest of the Hashira stared openly now, completely forgotten by the two of you. Mitsuri’s eyes were practically sparkling while Tengen looked deeply amused, but nobody spoke because they were all too busy trying to process what they were seeing.

A Kinoto, talking to Tomioka like this? Touching him? And more importantly… Tomioka letting him? “I’ll come back before you know it,” you promised quietly, your expression softening as you looked at him. Giyuu hesitated only a moment before gently taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way so tender it nearly gave Mitsuri heart failure.

“Come back safely,” he said softly. “I’ll be waiting for you.” Your smile widened at that, warm enough to make even Shinobu blink in surprise. “You always are,” you replied before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against his lips.

The entire courtyard froze solid. Mitsuri let out a tiny squeak, Obanai nearly dropped his tea, and Sanemi looked like someone had punched him directly in the face.

You pulled away with a grin while Giyuu remained perfectly calm despite the fact every Hashira present was now staring at him like he’d grown another head. “I love you,” you said naturally, already stepping back toward the path. “I love you too,” Giyuu answered without hesitation, and somehow that shocked them even more than the kiss itself. Then, with one final wave, you disappeared down the pathway toward your mission, leaving behind complete and utter silence.

Mitsuri was the first to recover. “GIYUU HAS A HUSBAND?!” she practically shrieked, startling birds from the nearby trees. “There’s no way,” Sanemi immediately snapped back, pointing accusingly at Giyuu. “Tomioka? Married? Absolutely not.” Tengen laughed loudly while crossing his arms.

“I don’t know, the kiss looked pretty convincing.” “That had to be some weird hallucination,” Obanai muttered suspiciously. Shinobu simply smiled sweetly at Giyuu, though there was something deeply dangerous behind her eyes. “Tomioka-san,” she hummed. “Would you perhaps like to explain why none of us knew about this?”

Giyuu blinked once at all of them, genuinely confused by their reactions. “You never asked,” he answered simply. Silence followed again. “What do you mean we never asked?” Sanemi barked. Giyuu tilted his head slightly.

“None of you asked if I was married,” he said plainly. “Or if I had a partner.” Shinobu stared at him for several long seconds before covering her face with one hand. “You know,” she sighed, “sometimes I truly cannot tell if you’re intelligent or hopeless.” Mitsuri leaned forward immediately, eyes sparkling with excitement. “How long have you been together?!”

“We’ve been together for two years,” Giyuu replied calmly. “We got married a year and a half ago.” Every single Hashira erupted at once.

“A YEAR AND A HALF?!” “YOU DIDN’T TELL ANYONE?!” “YOU GOT MARRIED?!” “HOW DOES TOMIOKA EVEN PULL SOMEONE LIKE THAT?”

Giyuu frowned slightly at the yelling, clearly not understanding why everyone was acting so dramatic. “Again,” he said quietly once the noise died down enough, “none of you asked.” Sanemi looked seconds away from throwing himself into the nearest river. Meanwhile Mitsuri was already gushing about how romantic it all was, demanding to know details while Obanai reluctantly listened beside her.

Even Gyomei looked mildly surprised, though he smiled warmly after hearing how long the two of you had been together. Giyuu, however, simply stood there wondering why this had suddenly become everyone’s business.

A week later, the quiet warmth of Giyuu’s estate felt infinitely more peaceful than dealing with the other Hashira’s nonstop questions. The evening air drifted softly through the open shoji doors while lantern light flickered across the wooden floors, filling the home with a calm golden glow.

You sat across from Giyuu at the low dining table, a steaming cup of tea resting between your hands while he quietly served the last of the rice into your bowl. “So,” you said after taking a sip of tea, unable to hide your amusement, “I’m guessing they know now.” Giyuu sighed softly, though there was the faintest hint of embarrassment on his face. “Mitsuri saw us before your mission,” he admitted. “Then everyone started asking questions.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “And here I thought we were subtle.” Giyuu looked at you for a moment before speaking again. “Apparently not.” The deadpan seriousness in his voice made you laugh harder, and for a brief second Giyuu’s lips twitched upward into a tiny smile. “Sanemi yelled for almost twenty minutes,” he added after a moment. “Shinobu called me hopeless.” “She’s not entirely wrong,” you teased. Giyuu gave you a mildly offended look while you grinned into your tea cup.

Dinner slowly turned into quiet conversation as the night deepened around you both. You told him about your mission and the villages you’d passed through while he listened carefully, occasionally asking soft questions whenever you skipped over an injury or dangerous detail too quickly. In return, he told you about the chaos the Hashira had caused all week after learning he was married, and you nearly choked on your tea imagining Tengen loudly demanding wedding details while Mitsuri cried over how sweet it all sounded. “They want to meet you properly,” Giyuu said eventually, setting his tea cup down. “Though I think some of them still don’t fully believe I’m capable of having a husband.” You snorted softly. “That’s because you glare at people like a wounded stray cat.”

“I do not.” “You absolutely do.”

By the time the two of you finally went to bed, the estate had gone completely silent around you. Crickets chirped softly outside while moonlight spilled faintly through the paper windows, painting pale silver across the room. Giyuu lay beside you beneath the blankets, one arm loosely wrapped around your waist while you rested comfortably against his chest.

Even after two years together, moments like this still felt precious—quiet, safe, untouched by the violence waiting outside the estate walls. “Welcome home,” Giyuu murmured sleepily against your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. Your chest tightened warmly at the words. “It’s good to be home,” you answered softly.

Sometime later in the night, you woke slowly to the sound of rain beginning outside. For a few moments you simply lay there in the darkness, listening to the soft rhythm against the roof while Giyuu slept beside you. His breathing was calm and steady, his expression far softer in sleep than it ever was during the day. Without the usual guarded look in his eyes, he looked peaceful—gentle, even. You couldn’t help smiling faintly as you brushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“You’re too pretty,” you whispered quietly, knowing he was asleep and wouldn’t hear you anyway.

Giyuu shifted slightly at the touch but didn’t wake, only pulling you a little closer unconsciously. Warm affection flooded your chest so strongly it almost hurt.

Carefully leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss against his forehead before settling back against him again, letting your hand rest over his heartbeat. The rain continued outside, steady and calming, while Giyuu held you close even in his sleep. Safe in his arms, you slowly drifted back to sleep beside your husband.