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#tomioka giyū
a1tie · 9 months
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𝓢𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮…
A small smut fic of you and Giyuu fucking in the bedroom…except…
NSFW! RECOMMENDED 16+
A/N: If you like music, I recommend reading this while listening to Say Yes by Floetry! >.<
word count: 386
warning tags: No plot.
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
Breathing…panting..whining..moaning…
The dim-lit bedroom just gets hotter and hotter as the heat between your bodies and your breath fill the air. Giyuu towers over you, his body between your legs as one is over his shoulder for easier access. Your walls seemed to be everything he ever wanted, as he grunts and moans every thrust he makes. You loll your head to the side, your tits bouncing every inward push. Giyuu grabs your chin and redirects your head to face him. You whine as you both lock eyes.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
You have to admit. You looking at Giyuu and taking in the view of him enjoying himself gets you even more turned on. There isn’t a lot of times when his usual demeanor is ruined by your inner walls clenched around his cock, fucking you senseless.
He takes his hand off your chin as he places it beside your head. The way your head stayed in place even when he let it go, and you still maintaining eye contact with him sent a shock of pleasure. Such an obedient girl, no?
Your legs started to jerk as you moaned and slurred your words. The sensation of being filled and empty again repeatedly threw you off the edge. Your eyelids flutter as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head.  You grab onto his haori, clumsily missing it the first time from the seemingly unending pleasure.
“Rig..hah…right there. Right thERE~” The intensity of your words increased as your feet pointed and curled. You arch your back, gripping the sheets of the bed. Your legs start to shake violently. As soon as you clench your pussy, he lets out a loud grunt as he bites his lower lip. His grunts continue as ropes of semen land in you. The feeling was overwhelming. You controlled yourself, slowly exhaling whines and moans as he keeps inserting to let his and your high subside. He grabs your breast for useless support, and leans down to kiss you. You and his tongue intertwine, hands touching sensually in places that you never knew were so sensitive. This is the third time you both have been so desperate for each other. When will this progress? You will never know, but the scandal sure does arouse you.
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
mwah!~ based on a request from one of my mutuals on Tiktok!
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peachdues · 15 days
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THE GREAT WAR
PART I ♤ SECRET PREGNANCY AU
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A/N: After seven months, it's finally here. Part I of Giyuu's Bundle of Joy. This fic involved a ton of research and tears. I hope you all enjoy. Special shout-out to @squishybabei @kentohours @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 @ghost-1-y and @xxsabitoxx for letting me bombard your DMs with endless snippets from this fic for feedback. Note that this is a multi-part fic, and it will be a non-linear story.
CW: explicit sexual content ☼ MDNI ☼ loss of virginity ☼ unprotected sex ☼ protective/possessive Giyuu ☼ canon-typical violence
LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE
January, 1915
The moon’s rays filtered through the sparse canopy of the trees from above, bathing that small portion of the forest in its silvery glow. There, about twenty paces ahead, Giyuu locked eyes on his target.
A demon; one he’d been pursuing through the dense forest separating his Manor from the base of a great mountain for the last several miles
The demon had yet to notice him, for it was focused entirely on its own prey — a human woman, who was frantically zigzagging as she ran in a desperate effort to evade its clutches. 
She was succeeding rather well in her endeavor, managing to dart out of the beast’s reach right as it snapped its sharp, deadly claws at her back. But the girl then miscalculated her movements and stumbled over something — whether it was a tree root or her own feet, he could not say — and she went airborne. For one, sickening moment, Giyuu feared he would not be fast enough to save her from falling victim to the demon he was readying to kill.
The girl squealed as she fell, just narrowly managing to avoid the swipe of the beast’s claws as they cut uselessly at the air where her back had been only seconds before. Something long and wooden flew from her hand as she sprawled across the forest floor – a broom.
Odd. 
Steps quick and even, Giyuu’s thumb flicked his sword free from its scabbard. Within seconds of him drawing his weapon, the Slayer’s blade sliced seamlessly through the demon’s neck, its head thudding pathetically to the forest floor before the beast could comprehend the threat.
He landed swiftly on the balls of his feet, the Water Pillar quickly shaking his blade free of the demon’s blackened, rotted blood before sheathing it at his hip. A quick job – that was how he liked it; free of fuss. 
Behind him, he heard the leaves coating the frozen ground of the forest shift and crack as the human girl he’d rescued rose to her feet. He grimaced; while helping rid the world of the blight inflicted upon it by demons was his life’s sole and true purpose, and one he fulfilled without hesitation, he was little more than a fish out of water when it came to talking to those he helped. 
The girl had yet to flee; Giyuu suspected she might be in shock, if not a bit simple, and he sought to prod her along. After all, the sooner she left the forest, the less likely she’d end up a demon’s meal and waste his efforts in preserving her life. 
“You should be fine now. Please return to your ho-,” The dark-haired Slayer’s words were cut off with a sputter as the head of the woman’s broom whacked him sharply up the side of his skull. 
Giyuu stood there for a moment, dazed and slightly confused as he turned towards the woman whose life he’d just preserved. 
The Water Pillar had not paid her much mind upon discovering her seconds away from becoming the slain horned demon’s newest meal, his attention having been entirely focused on eliminating his target. But now, without the distracting threat of a man-eating beast, he could see she was clad in the traditional attire worn by Shinto priestesses, though she looked far too young to have achieved such a status. Instead, she appeared to be much closer to himself in age. The front of her red hakama pants were streaked in mud and dirt from her fall, and several strands of hair had fallen loose from where they’d been gathered in a ribbon just below her shoulders. 
And she was glaring at him. 
“What are you?” She demanded, and the Water Pillar noted the faint tremor in her voice that she worked to conceal behind her defensive stance, her broom braced in front of her like a blade. 
A slow blink. “I am Tomioka.” 
It baffled him that he let his name slide so freely when he’d never been one particularly keen on sharing it. Yet, he’d thought that perhaps the exchange of names would get the wild woman before him to calm, and perhaps lower the sweeping tool —-
“What the hell is a Tomioka?” 
Giyuu wondered whether the — Miko, that was what young priestesses in training were called — had hit her head in the fall. “My name.” 
A faint dusting of red spread across the Miko’s cheeks as she realized the absurdity of her mistake, though she still did not lower her weapon. Rather, she jutted it towards him in what Giyuu thought may have been an attempt to be threatening. 
“And what was that thing just now, Tomioka? And what are you?”  Quickly, her eyes swept behind him, scanning. “Are there more?”
Idly, Giyuu wondered why he was bothering to indulge in such a silly conversation to begin with, chalking it up to the mere fact that they were still in a dark forest, with dawn still several hours away. 
The foolish girl would end up a snack for another demon if she did not turn around and go home. 
“It was a demon. I’d been tracking it for several miles when it stumbled across you. You can count yourself lucky — do not hit me again.” He cut off with a warning, eyes narrowing as the Miko drew the broom back up over her head. 
There was a tense moment as the two regarded one another, Giyuu’s eyes locked on the Miko’s trembling arm as she stared distrustfully back at him. 
The girl’s hands twitched as the broom cleaved through the air once more, but Giyuu knocked it easily away, sending the cleaning tool flying uselessly to the side where it rolled under a bush. 
“Are you finished?” Giyuu asked, irritation creeping into his tone as he stared coolly at the flustered Miko. 
“You’ve stripped me of my only weapon, so I suppose I have no choice,” the young woman sniffed, her tone as frosty as his glare. 
Giyuu grimaced. “You would not have lost the privilege had you simply done as I asked.” 
The Miko folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glowered at him. “You would truly leave a woman defenseless in the woods? With nothing to protect herself?”
Giyuu scoffed. “You are not a woman; you are a menace.” 
The young woman’s mouth opened and closed several times as her face flushed several shades deeper. “Y-you!” 
A crack! somewhere in the woods made the sputtering Miko fall silent with a small squeak, and Giyuu was bemused to find that the woman’s hands shot to him for safety, when only moments before she’d tried to clobber him away from her. 
“You said that…that thing earlier was a demon, yes?” She whispered and Giyuu nodded, tense as his eyes swept through the shadowy line of the trees, searching. 
“Do you think there are more?”
“So long as we continue sitting here like a pair of lame ducks, more are bound to come sniffing.” The wary Pillar replied. “Which is why I suggest you return home — without bludgeoning me further.”
The young Priestess continued to cling to his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. Giyuu cleared this throat, and when the woman’s attention snapped back to him, he pointedly glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the sleeve of his haori. 
“Apologies,” the Miko blushed, and her hands quickly relinquished their hold on his sleeve. She wrung her hands nervously before her. “Might you escort me back to my Shrine? It’s not far from here – less than two kilometers.” 
Still within his territory — albeit at the opposite end of the forest where is own Manor stood. He grimaced, but nodded stiffly. His efforts to save the woman’s life would be in vain if she walked away from him and straight into the waiting, eager claws of another beast that lurked in the shadows.
The Miko smiled brightly at him and offered her name. Giyuu elected not to reply, and the girl settled into step at his side, a small frown pulling at her lips.
“I’m sorry for earlier — for hitting you with my broom.” The girl — Y/N — said a short while later, the faintest trace of shyness in her tone. 
Giyuu did not think the apology warranted a response, and so he gave none, but the chatty little devil prodded him once more. 
“Did I injure you?” She gestured to the side of his head where her broom had caught him. 
Giyuu snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. “The day I am hurt by a mere broom is the day I retire from the Demon Slayer Corps.” 
Y/N hummed in contemplation. “And what exactly is the great and mysterious Demon Slayer Corps?” 
The Water Pillar’s eyes remained forward. “I should think the name is self-explanatory. There are demons who eat humans. We slay them.” 
Inwardly, Giyuu cringed at the harshness of his words. It did not happen often, but there were times when he wished he was better with them, when he wished he did not come off quite as aloof and callous — 
“You do not know how to talk to people very well, do you Tomioka-sama?” Y/N’s tone was not judgmental; it rather had a mild curiosity to it, as though she were merely commenting on the weather or the quality of a cup of tea. 
But the Water Pillar did not know how to answer her. Kocho once told him that others disliked him, but Giyuu wasn’t sure that was entirely true; after all, no one had ever said so much to his face. 
Then again, if the young shrine maiden’s words were anything to go by, then perhaps the Insect Pillar’s scathing assessment hadn’t been too far off the mark. 
“What even brought you into the forest so late at night?”  Giyuu did not know why the question needled at him, but he found the pressing silence of the trees more disconcerting than the Miko’s voice, and so he was desperate for the distraction. “And why a broom?”
Y/N herself seemed surprised at his sudden interest. “Night-blooming herbs,” she said plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They are critical for certain rites and medications. And I cannot collect them any other time. The broom was for protection, obviously.” 
“I wasn’t aware shrines still performed rituals,” Giyuu pushed an errant tree branch out of their way, and ahead, faint lights began to swim into view. The Shrine. “Are you not a mere relic of a time long since-passed?” 
“I’ll have you know that we still perform basic cleansing rites for those in the village,” Y/N bristled. “And we provide medical aid, since there is no hospital nearby.”
She shot him a cold look. “Modern medicine would not have developed but for ancient practices such as ours.”
Giyuu frowned. He hadn’t meant to insult the woman. “Be that as it may,” he said flatly. “Demons prowl at night. You wandering into the forest none the wiser  is akin to you waltzing into their territory with a giant sign that says ‘Eat me.’”
Y/N grimaced. “Then what would you have me do? Neglect my duties?” 
He could sympathize with that. “No, I’m not saying you should forsake your obligations,” he furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. “Perhaps it is simply a risk you must take. But you should at least be aware of your surroundings.”
Y/N looked upon him with a miserable expression. “You’re of little help, you know that?” 
Giyuu only frowned, perplexed as to why she couldn’t understand the import of his words.
An awkward silence ensued, punctured only by the faint hoot of an owl. For that, the established swordsman was grateful; noise meant the absence of predators, which meant they were safe – for now. 
“You mentioned tracking the demon earlier – how long had you been doing so?” 
“A while.” 
The girl was relentless. “And you just so happened to track it here? Where it was conveniently chasing me?” 
“I patrol this region. Your rescue was nothing more than coincidence and luck on your part.” 
“My gratitude is endless,” the shrine maiden said drily. “Forgive me for not falling to the ground in prostration.”
At that, Giyuu fell silent and refused to engage in any further conversation. The shrine maiden, for her part, seemed to take his cue that he had no interest in her or exchanging meaningless pleasantries, and so she too, went quiet. 
The forest floor eventually began to slope gradually up, and before long, Giyuu found himself walking along a carved rock path that curved through the trees until it widened at a great set of stone stairs. At the very top of the steep incline, he could spot a great Torii gate.
Y/N turned to him with a beaming smile. “Allow me to introduce you to the Shrine." Tomioka opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly added, “You should at least know who it is you have dedicated your life to protecting.” 
“I’d rather not.”
But she was already leading him up the stairs, his wrist pinched delicately between two of her fingers. Realistically, Giyuu knew it would take him no effort to shake the woman’s hold and disappear into the night. But to his own bemusement, he allowed her to tote him behind her as though he were little more than a useless pet. 
The pair passed under the Torrii and into a sprawling courtyard. Though night sky was a deep, inky black, the perimeter of the courtyard was dotted with several stone lanterns -- toro -- each of which had been lit with a generous flame. Giyuu's quick perusal of the Shrine, however, was cut short as the Miko led him into the Shrine's main structure -- the honden -- and tugged him down a narrow hallway. Based on his rough appraisal of the building, Giyuu surmised she was taking him to the center of the honden, likely where the girl's master was.
His theory was proven correct when Y/N drew up to a great slat of shoji panneling. The Miko knocked softly on one of the wooden beams before she slid the door aside, revealing a great, open room that was littered with scrolls, half-dried pots of ink, and burned incense sticks. There, in the center of the room, knelt the head Priestess of the Shrine. She was an old, shriveled, wrinkled thing. The white hair that she’d gathered into a knot at her neck was as wispy as the thinnest clouds, and a quick glance over her hands revealed swollen joints covered by skin spotted with age.
But the Priestess did not appear to be a gentle elder by any means; her thin mouth was curled down into a sneer that was directed at the Miko at his side, and her eyes were hard and cold.  
"Head Priestess," Y/N bowed to her elder. "This man is called Tomioka, and he helped save me tonight in the forest."
Giyuu resisted the urge to snort. Helped, indeed.
The old woman's eyes shone bright with an emotion he could not name as the Miko continued. "A creature attacked me as I was returning home. Tomioka says he is a swordsman whose occupation --"
“I know what he is, girl,” the Priestess snapped at her student before she turned those beady eyes to him. “A member of the Demon Slayer Corps will always be welcome at this Shrine – particularly one as esteemed as yourself.” 
The Water Pillar straightened at the old woman’s casual mention of the Corps. “I was not aware that of any Shrines so affiliated with the Corps.” 
“There was a time when the Demon Slayer Corps would partner with shrines such as this to carry out its mission,” the Priestess replied evenly. From his periphery, Giyuu spotted Y/N’s head snap toward her mentor, her jaw slack. “Once, priestesses were akin to shamans who offered a variety of rituals for cleansing and protection. You slayers relied on our connection with our communities to operate more effectively, and we in turn, counted on your protection to fight what we could not.”
Despite the distinct scent of sake that clung to the elderly shrine keeper like a cloud, her eyes remained sharp and fixed upon him, and her wrinkled mouth pulled into a rueful smile. “Now, it seems, our wise and benevolent government has forced us both to retreat to the shadows to operate in secret.”
She bowed her head. “You have nothing but my respect, Lord Hashira. You are always welcome here.” 
Giyuu did not respond, but he inclined his head toward the Priestess in polite acknowledgement. 
Y/N gaped at her Master. "Lord --?"
The old woman poured another generous serving of sake and brought the choko to her lips. “Though we are honored by your visit, young Lord, I’m afraid your presence is nothing more than a calculated effort by this one,” she nodded pointedly at the young shrine maiden at his side, whose cheeks pinkened. “To keep herself out of trouble. My apprentice was not permitted to leave the grounds, you see.” 
“Oh hush you old drunk,” Giyuu’s eyes snapped to the irate Miko in surprise. “I told you earlier I was going to the village market –” 
“Telling me while I am in the middle of lessons with the younger girls and sprinting off before I can respond is hardly me giving you permission,” the Priestess’s mouth curled into a sneer. “You’ve defied me for the last time, girl.” 
The old Priestess turned away from her apprentice, dismissive. “You will take the rice bundles and hang them in the drying shed – every last one, for the next three days.” 
“You hag!” Y/N fumed, her face pinched in outrage. “I was on rice duty all last week without an ounce of assistance –” 
“And you apparently have yet to learn your lesson,” the old woman retorted bitterly, shooting the seething Shrine Maiden a withering glare. “Considering you still think it seemly to mouth off at any and every opportunity –” 
The Miko spat a curse at the elder Priestess so filthy and colorful that even Giyuu could not mask his surprise, raising his eyebrow. But if Y/N’s outburst shocked the Shrine’s head, the old woman gave no sign. Instead, she only glowered at the young woman as the latter turned and shoved the shoji door harshly to the side. Giyuu, ever the unwilling observer, was left to be pulled by his wrist back into the hall behind the young Miko before she whipped around to face her senior once more. 
Giyuu had thought himself stunned by the crassness of the Shrine Miaden’s language before, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the obscene gesture she made at the old woman before she slammed the door firmly shut. 
A telling crash on the other side of the wall signaled the Elder Priestess had hurled her empty sake dish at the door with all her might. “And work on your aim!” Y/N snapped before turning sharply on her heel to stomp out of the honden, tugging the Water Pillar helplessly behind her. 
“She seems unstable.” said Giyuu once they were a safe distance away from the main Honden. 
Y/N brushed aside his concern with a flippant waive of her hand. “Granny is harmless. As her charge, I suppose I instigate her nearly as much as she torments me.” 
Granny. It made sense, then, the curious affection the girl held for the rancorous head Priestess, even if he could not bring himself to fully understand it. 
“You are more than welcome to stay the night,” the Miko’s mood lightened considerably the more she put distance between herself and the drunken head Priestess. “We serve breakfast at sunrise, but of course, you’re not obligated to attend.” 
The ravenette’s mouth quirked down in a faint grimace, the only sign of his discomfort. “I should return to my own home.” 
“It’s quite late,” Y/N glanced up at the night sky, now awash with stars that surrounded the fat, glowing moon like thousands of glittering jewels. She turned back to him with a radiant grin. “At least allow me to show you around.”
If anyone had asked him, Giyuu Tomioka would not have been able to explain the series of events that had led him here. 
He distinctly remembered telling the vexatious young Shrine Maiden no, that he could not stay the night, yet somehow he’d found himself in the Shrine’s old, musty guest house, already prepared for his stay, a lantern flickering merrily in the corner. 
He glanced warily at the fresh sleeping kimono folded beside his futon. The possibility of him actually sleeping in such an unfamiliar place was nil and while the Water Pillar certainly had no issue in appearing impolite to others, he thought that perhaps the Shrine was affiliated with the connection of Wisteria Houses dotted throughout the land, and he didn’t want to risk offending the head Priestess and cause her to shut her gates to other slayers in need of lodging. 
So, Giyuu paced the floor of the small guest house, restless. Though his eyes remained carefully trained on the window of his room, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him an excuse to leave without offending his hosts, no sign of either his crow or any demonic threat  manifested. Though, he supposed with a frown, it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d not heard from Kanzaburo; the ancient bird was likely flitting about the forest, lost.
He continued to pace until finally, the sky in the East began to lighten signaling that dawn was fast approaching. Stealthily, he slipped out of the small hut that had served as his temporary accommodations and made his way toward the Torii under which he and that Miko — Y/N — had passed upon their arrival.
He’d almost cleared the gate when he saw the elder Priestess standing beside the Torii, apparently waiting for him. Giyuu nodded his head at her, the only expression of courtesy he was willing to give, but he was halted as the old woman flung out a single arm in front of him, her hand flat and palm turned up, waiting.
And that was how Giyuu learned the Shrine was not, in fact, a Wisteria House; not as he was forced to fork over a considerable sum of his earnings into the Priestess’s expectant hand. 
Wisteria Houses meant Corps Members stayed free of charge; the price the Shrine’s keeper demanded in exchange for his brief stay bordered extortion.
At least he’d had the money; if he’d been of any lower rank, the old woman would have cleaned him out.  
He scowled as he departed but his irritation quickly fell away as he finally laid eyes on Kanzaburo, who nearly collided with his Master’s head as he struggled to pant out his orders. 
And so, as the Water Pillar trekked through the forest and toward his new assignment, the view of the Shrine faded behind the dense canopy of the mountain forest, and so too, did any final, sparing thoughts of it, or its inhabitants.
———-
Nearly a month passed since Giyuu stumbled across the strange shrine maiden in the forest separating his Estate from the old Shrine, and the Miko had nearly faded from his memory. Not that such a feat was difficult; the raven-haired Pillar’s mind was far more occupied with tasks like patrol and chasing down leads that could potentially lead the Corps to an Upper Rank demon to focus on much else. 
He’d intended only to find a decent meal and then depart the village before nightfall to investigate rumors of women disappearing in a small town to the south. Night was rapidly approaching, however, and he’d yet to find any vendor that sold anything he liked, much to his chagrin. He was about to cut his losses and continue on, when he spied a familiar blur of white and red idly perusing one of the stalls, apparently oblivious to the impending sunset. 
Without thought, his feet carried him toward her, his annoyance sparking to life. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
The Miko’s – Y/N’s – head turned back and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Pillar standing behind her. 
“Tomioka-sama,” she greeted with a polite bow. “I did not expect to see you so soon.” 
He ignored her greeting, choosing instead to take a step closer. “I asked what you were doing.” 
If she was taken aback by his terseness, she didn’t show it. “I am returning to my shrine after an afternoon of errands,” she replied smoothly. “As is usual for me.” 
“It is nearly dark.” 
“An astute observation,” and to his annoyance, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye. “Do you also know that tonight is also a full moon?” 
Said moon had already made an appearance above them, growing brighter and brighter as the sky faded from twilight to night. 
Giyuu had never been one for rolling his eyes, but the young woman’s knowing smirk grated at something inside him, made him feel as he often did whenever Kocho would make a sly comment with that smile of hers, that for some reason made him feel like he was the butt of some joke only she knew. 
He grimaced. Teasing; that’s what the shrine maiden was doing. She was teasing him. 
“It is nearly dark,” he repeated. “And I did not think you’d be naive enough to risk traveling after sunset.” 
“I believe it was you who insisted I did not have to ignore my duties, so long as I paid attention to my surroundings.” She replied coolly. “So that is exactly what I am doing.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fine. If the stubborn girl wanted to be bait for whatever awaited her in the forest once the sun finally set, then that was her choice. He’d saved her once, and he’d given her sufficient warning; what she did from then on did not concern him. 
He was about to bade her farewell when a slurred, boisterous voice boomed her name from across the market. Several heads turned toward the source, including Giyuu's, until he found a round faced, piggish man stumbling away from a sake stand, his cheeks flushed a bright red.
The man repeated the Miko's name in that grating, sing-song voice of his. "Whe're you goin' all by yourself so late?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask, but Tomioka turned to the shrine maiden. "A friend?"
“His name is Susumo,” she said airily, though she could not conceal her scowl as the man drew closer. “He’s merely the village drunk who forgets to keep his hands to himself.”
The shrine maiden’s eyes narrowed accusingly at the villager, and the Miko remarked, in a raised voice, “And he is not welcome at the Shrine, though he pretends to forget otherwise.”
Susumo only held his hands up, as though in surrender. “You can’t blame a man for wanting to know what lies under all those layers,” and as if the implication of his lechery wasn’t clear enough, he gave the Miko a leering once-over. “Can’t say I was disappointed.” 
“But your friend is right,” he slurred, a smirk forming on his lips. “The dark is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to risk walking back alone —“
“I shall escort her,” Tomioka said abruptly and she whipped back to him, her mouth falling open. “After all, I’m welcome at the Shrine.” 
Susumo, too, gaped at the Swordsman. The Miko recovered quickly however, unwilling to allow the opportunity to pass or for the Slayer to suddenly come to his senses and realize he’d rather leave her to fend for herself in the forest. 
“You have my gratitude, Tomioka-sama,” and she gave him a small bow of her head. Relieved, she flipped her braid over her shoulder and smiled warmly up at her raven-haired companion. “Shall we?”
She did not wait for Tomioka to answer, nor did she give any further acknowledgment to Susumo, who only continued to stare at the Hashira, his face bright red. With a feigned indifference, she breezed past him, but a sudden yelp from behind caused her to snap back in alarm. 
The first thing she noticed was the proximity of the back of a dual-patterned haori as it stood between her and the village drunkard. The Water Pillar’s shroud nearly brushed the tip of her nose, forcing her to step back. Cautiously, she peered around Tomioka’s rigid form, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. 
Susumo, it appeared, had tried to grab her, only to be cut off by the Water Pillar himself, who snatched him by his wrist. Though it did not appear that Tomioka was using a great deal of effort to restrain him, it was clear Susumo was struggling — greatly so — against the ferocity of the Slayer’s hold, given how a vein bulged in his forehead, his face,  rapidly turning purple. 
Her gaze flicked to the Swordsman’s hand, and she felt herself blanch at the odd angle of Susumo’s wrist. 
She was no doctor, but she knew wrists weren’t meant to twist as his did in Tomioka’s crushing grip. 
“Leave.” the Water Pillar ordered coldly, and there was a darkness in his eyes that matched the brutality of his hold. “Your presence is unnecessary and unwanted.”
“Y-you! Susumo sputtered.
But Tomioka’s grip only tightened. “Now.”
And then he released him, Susumo half-stumbling back from the Swordsman. His eyes were wide with both fear and loathing, and he muttered incoherently under his breath as he massaged his rapidly-swelling wrist.
The Water Pillar, however, did not pay any more attention to the red-faced villager. He turned only to the shrine maiden, who remained frozen in place, her eyes wide. "Shall we?"
Numbly, Y/N nodded and the two set off down the path that led back to the Shrine. Dimly, the Miko noted that the Slayer kept noticeably close to her as they walked, as though he was unwilling to let her wander too far away. The air between them as they traveled was thick and tense. She was on edge enough thanks to Susumo and his oily words, and she was desperate to do anything to distract herself from the buzzing mounting under her skin. 
She cast a sly, sidelong glance at the Swordsman walking at her side. He’d not been receptive to her small-talk the last time he’d escorted her back to her Shrine, but saying something — anything — would be better than this stifling quiet threatening to choke her.
“How old are you?” Before the Swordsman could decide whether to answer, she continued on. “If I had to guess, I would suspect you’re around my age, and I just passed my nineteenth birthday.”
She hummed aloud. “You seem quite young, yet you’ve achieved some level of status as a swordsman, according to Granny.” Her eyes fell to the blade secured at his hip before she lifted them back to his profile. “Yet you’re as withdrawn and taciturn as an old man.” 
Her words, thankfully, seemed to irritate him into responding. “Are you always so forthright?”  
The Miko grinned. “Perhaps I am like you, Lord – what was it? Hashiba?”
“Hashira.” 
“Yes, that. Perhaps I am like you, Lord Hashira – utterly lacking in social ability.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she brushed her shoulder against his bicep. “But at least I make up for it by talking.” 
“Talking is a distraction,” Tomioka monotoned, his eyes fixed resolutely on the hidden path of the forest before them. “It only serves as an interference to one’s duties.” He looked pointedly at the Miko’s profile, but inexplicably found himself unable to look away. “Or an excuse to ignore them.” 
But she was unflappable. “And yet you are the one who decided to escort me all the way back to my Shrine – so who is the one ignoring their duties, Tomioka-sama?” 
“I think you enjoy diverting my attention,” the Water Pillar retorted, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes. 
She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. “It’s not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.” 
The Water Pillar almost looked amused. “And you are certainly that, Y/N.” 
The Miko ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. “I did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.” 
Tomioka looked at her fully then, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do not jest.” He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. “Nor do I lie.” 
Y/N’s lips parted. There was something about the way the Swordsman beheld her that made her stomach flutter. In her last encounter with the enigmatic Slayer, she’d been so rattled by her close encounter with the demon, that she hadn’t truly noticed much about the man who’d saved her life, apart from his bland detachment and rather unfortunate social skills. 
But now, the Miko was struck by how handsome the raven-haired Hashira was; she was mesmerized by the deep azure of his eyes, as vast and deep as the sea. His skin was a delicate alabaster, and, contrasted with the flesh of his hands which were calloused and scarred, his face had not a blemish in sight.
She blinked, clearing away some of the fog that had crept into her mind, put there by the vexatious Slayer. “I must return to my duties,” she said softly.
They spent the remainder of their journey back to the Shrine in silence. She was quick to break away from him the moment they passed under the Torii, though not before she muttered that he was welcome to stay, should he so choose.
She busied herself with her duties, but even the neediest obligations could not fully distract her from feeling the burning heat of his stare as the Water Pillar’s watched her fiercely from across the courtyard. And nothing, nothing at all could have prepared her for how he eventually  joined her in carrying out her duties, 
The Water Pillar stayed the night once more, departing sharply at daybreak. Later, as Y/N swept the courtyard free of loose brush and clutter long after his departure, she noticed a crow sitting high in a tree, its black eyes watching her every movement. Though its gaze was sharp, the presence of the great, sleek bird did not disturb her, though not as much of a feather twitched from its perch upon the branch as the Miko continued through her day. 
As she’d readied for bed later that night, she realized she’d felt oddly comforted by the crow. She imagined it a silent protector, a new guardian of the Shrine, no different than the statues of the gods which dotted its grounds. 
She settled into her futon with a great yawn, the image of a certain dark-haired Swordsman flickering in the back of her conscience until she was swept into sleep’s sweet embrace.
Just outside the Shrine’s sleeping quarters, the bird remained, eyes carefully tracking every shift in the shadows, waiting. 
And then the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the threat of night receded once more.
But the crow remained. 
———
Spring, 1915
The crow became a permanent fixture at the Shrine, though it always seemed to keep strictly to a single tree at the edge of the property, one that gave it a full view of the courtyard and structures surrounding the main honden.
Despite the bird's constant presence, more than a month passed before the Water Pillar returned, though he'd seemed even more sullen and withdrawn than he'd been during their previous two encounters. Y/N did not consider herself a friend to Tomioka by any means, but she was the only one brave enough to approach him as he'd lingered by the Torii, apparently unsure whether he should seek out their hospitality or return to the forest.
"You are welcome to come and sit for a hot meal," she called cordially, though she maintained a tentative distance. She frowned when he did not respond. Instead, the Water Pillar continued to stare unseeingly at the cracked stone path leading to the Shrine's courtyard.
"Tomioka-sama?" She pressed gently and the Swordsman's attention finally snapped to her, as though he'd just become aware of her presence.
The haunted look in his eyes sent a chill up her spine. The Miko cast one, cautious glance up at the sky, and her eyes narrowed at the wall of black clouds steadily rolling in from the east. A shift in the wind brought forth the distinct, metallic scent of rain, and if she listened hard enough, she swore she could hear the distant rumbles of thunder. “You know, there will be a storm tonight — please consider waiting it out here, where it’s safe.”
Tomioka only stared at her for a moment before he nodded. His hand twitched into a vague gesture inviting her to lead the way, and Y/N escorted him to the Shrine's elder, in search of her permission.
Granny Priestess agreed to let him stay, but on the condition he paid for his imposition. The Water Pillar had silently agreed, producing one small money bag from his pocket and placing it squarely in the Priestess’s outstretched, waiting hand. 
The heft of the bag had made Y/N frown; it seemed a great sum in comparison to their meager lodging offerings, but the Swordsman did not object, so she held her tongue. To comment would only serve to irritate her Master, and the old hag was scornful enough to assign her to duties that would isolate her from the raven-haired Slayer.
Only after the old Priestess sauntered off, leaving behind nothing but the lingering, bitter stench of sake, did the Miko speak again. 
“I’m glad to see you in good health, Tomioka-sama,” she bowed, though she thought she spied the corner of his mouth twitch down at her formal greeting. “I trust your patrol went smoothly?” 
The Water Pillar’s expression was tight; dark. “It did not. The demon I was tracking managed to get away.” His jaw clenched tight. “But not before it slaughtered an entire family in the mountains.” 
All at once, the world around her seemed to slow. It had been easy to assume the dark-haired Swordsman before her always managed to find his target just in time, before it could slaughter its victim. Now, as she beheld the lethal coldness that had settled over his features, Y/N knew her assumptions had been wrong. 
Perhaps, she noted with a shudder, her rescue had been the exception and not the rule. 
Beneath the icy stoicism limning the Water Pillar’s eyes, the shrine maiden noted a distinct heaviness that weighed down his shoulders; made them curl slightly forward, defeated.
She resisted the urge to reach out to him, in comfort. “I won’t offer you empty platitudes,” she murmured. “But I can invite you to offer your prayers for those who were lost.” 
He looked at her, brows drawn, and she knew his instinct was to decline, so she added, “I will do it regardless of whether you join me.”
All at once, any protest he had was snuffed out within him. Instead, he was left with a curious softness as he regarded the shrine maiden, so assured and earnest in her invitation. 
He didn’t know why he’d sought out the Shrine.
He’s been angry; angry at himself for not being faster, for allowing innocent people to die on his account of his failure.
He still felt angry. Yet, as he followed Y/N into the Shrine’s haiden to light incense, he also felt a solemn gratitude for the Miko, who’d not let him indulge in his self-loathing but instead requested he act, and act with her. 
So he had; and somehow, the weight on his chest, the one that threatened to suffocate him, lightened bit by bit until Giyuu felt like he could breathe once more. 
Later that night, Giyuu spotted the shrine maiden from his window as she darted around the courtyard to light the tōrō to illuminate the Shrine grounds. A deep rumble of thunder, however, signaled the spring storm had finally arrived. Y/N, however, only continued with her task, huddling over herself to strike the matches needed to finish lighting the lanterns as rain began to dampen the landscape around her.
He was about to go outside and demand she return to the warm, dry haven that was the girls’ sleeping quarters lest she catch a cold, but then the last of the lanterns were lit and the shrine maiden straightened.
And then she tilted her face up toward the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her. 
And she grinned. And Giyuu was mesmerized; so much so, that he had not stopped staring at where she’d stood, laughing in the rain, even long after the Miko retired to bed.
-
Y/N awoke well before sunrise the following morning and spent hours laboring over the hot stoves in the kitchen. By the time the sky finally lightened, she'd only just finished her task and was in the process of boxing up her creation when she spotted one of her fellow shrine maidens passing by the entryway.
The Miko called out her name. "Has Lord Tomioka awoken yet?"
Her sister trainee lingered in the doorway. "Oh yes, he's been up for a while," and the girl looked back over her shoulder. “But he is already on his way out —“
The Miko swore viciously under her breath as she slammed a lid atop the small bento and hastily wrapped it in the small cloth she’d swiped from the laundry. 
“Move,” she barked at a small group of trainees that had gathered in the hallway outside the kitchen. The girls flattened themselves against the wall as Y/N sped by. She hurtled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Just as she burst into the courtyard from the honden, panting and winded, she spotted him.
“Tomioka-sama!” Y/N called, hurrying after the retreating form of the Water Pillar before he could pass through the shrine gates. “I have something for you!” 
The raven-haired slayer turned back to her, his face neutral, though Y/N could tell, by the slightest raise of his brow, that she’d piqued his interest. 
“Thank goodness you hadn’t left yet,” the Miko said brightly, holding out a small bundle wrapped in furoshiki cloth. “I was worried this wouldn’t be ready before you did.”
Tomioka’s eyes dropped to the parcel in her hands. “What is it?” 
Y/N motioned for him to take it, and to her slight surprise he did, holding it slightly in front of him as though it were liable to burst open. “A meal for the road. Granny and I prepared it this morning — as thanks, for everything you’ve done.” 
But the Water Pillar was already shaking his head, trying to press the package back into the shrine maiden’s hands. “I need no thanks; I do my job, and your shrine happens to be part of it.” 
If his words disappointed her, Y/N did not show it. “And yet we are grateful all the same,” she said firmly, arms crossing in front of her chest to avoid taking the small bento back. “Besides, it’s salmon; it will only go bad if you don’t eat it.” 
Had she not been watching him, Y/N would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, or the way his hand twitched back towards himself, bringing the packed lunch closer to him. 
Cerulean eyes watched her for a long moment, before dropping as Tomioka tucked the bento into his pocket. 
“Thank you,” was all he said before he turned away and continued through the gates of the shrine, setting off on the path which would lead him through the forest. 
If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn the Water Pillar looked happy as he departed. 
———
The Slayer returned exactly one week after she’d given him the home-cooked salmon – but he did not return empty-handed. For there, wrapped in the same furoshiki cloth, was a strange, oblong object, sitting in the palm of his hand though if he thought it heavy, Tomioka gave no indication. 
“What’s this?” Y/N leaned curiously over the Pillar’s outstretched hand and squinted, trying to discern what the cloth could have been concealing. 
Tomioka pushed his hand toward her, beseeching her to take the parcel from him. “A knife.” 
The Shrine Maiden looked up at him in alarm, pulling away from the Water Pillar. “Why on earth would I need a knife?” 
He rolled his eyes. “Protection.” 
“From what?” The Miko wrinkled her nose down at his offering, though there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “As I recall, I walloped you just fine with my broom.”
Tomioka shot her a dull look. “Be that as it may, cleaning tools are useless against demons. Without the sun, the only thing that works against them is decapitation with this — its metal is unique.” 
He parted the folds of the cloth to reveal a simple blade, though Y/N found it daunting all the same. The hilt was basic, an unembellished metal handle wrapped in plain black leather. The blade itself was an unassuming silver, slightly longer than her hand. 
The Slayer motioned for her to take it, though she only shrunk away. “You know how to use one, yes?” 
The Miko’s eyes met his, wide and anxious. “For domestic uses, of course, but not –” 
Tomioka’s fingers closed around her wrist and lifted, guiding her hand toward the dagger. His hand moved to cover hers, wrapping them both around the hilt of the blade before squeezing. “Grip it like this,” he held their joined hands up for her to inspect. “Keep your hand in a fist; do not lift your fingers away from the grip – that’s the best way to injure yourself instead of your target.” 
But the shrine maiden could hardly focus on the Pillar’s instructions. Her attention was directed entirely at the way her hand was swallowed by his, his skin warm and his grasp firm. She studied how his calluses – thick and forged from years of brutal sword training – pressed against hers; how, despite the roughness of his fingers and palms, and his solid hold still remained gentle. 
“-- and thrust like this,” he remained oblivious to her distraction as moved her arm in a sharp jab, a second and then a third time, before dropping her hand.  “Now do it yourself.” 
His command startled her out of her trance, a heat creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her kosode. She held out the blade awkwardly before her as scrambled to recall the Water Pillar’s words. To her dismay, all she was able to conjure was the memory of his touch, and how cold she suddenly felt without it. 
Lamely, she mimed jutting the knife at an invisible enemy, the blade gracelessly wobbling through the air. Though she was by no means a swordsman, even she knew something was off, her movements disjointed and clumsy.
She glanced shyly back to the raven-haired Demon Slayer and deflated as she was met only with bemused resignation.
Tomioka shook his head in disdain. “Perhaps you would fare better with a broom.” 
The Miko bristled. “I am not a swordsman —“
“You’ve made that abundantly apparent.” 
“— and I do not have the basics you seem to take for granted.” She finished, glaring indignantly at her raven-haired companion. “So teach me.”
The Water Pillar considered her for a moment before he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod of his head. 
“Watch me.” He turned his body toward the Miko and mimed getting into a defensive stance — feet ajar, his weight evenly distributed on each leg, and bent. 
He looked back to the Shrine Maiden expectantly, and she parroted his movements, crouching into what she imagined was the perfect mirror of his position.
It wasn’t.
“No — you need to—“ Tomioka straightened and huffed, impatient. He moved quickly behind her, and without thinking, his hands shot to grip her hips to guide them into the proper stance, until her weight was evenly distributed on both feet. 
“Like that — now bend your knees.” The ravenette pushed down on her hips until her legs bent, apparently oblivious to the way the Miko flushed crimson.
He was close; far, far too close. She’d never been touched the way the Water Pillar touched her. Tomioka’s hands were twin brands, burning her skin even through the layers of her shrine attire, and it sent every nerve beneath her skin buzzing.
She was aware of every inch of him pressed against her; of his arms, caging her in, his hands twin brands against her hips as he turned and pulled her into the proper stance. She was aware of how warm he was, of how formidable his presence felt, even though to her, he posed no threat. Every movement of his was precise and fluid, like the water he’d claimed to style his techniques after.
And if his touch wasn’t distracting enough, his scent threatened to overwhelm every last bit of sense she’d clung onto. Y/N didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed how good he smelled — like mahogany and citrus — so rich and so warm; a stark contrast to his otherwise cold and aloof nature mask.
The swordsman, however, appeared to remain oblivious. “There,” he finally said, having satisfied that she’d achieved proper form. For moment, the two of them lingered there, with Tomioka’s chest against the shrine maiden’s back, his hands remaining steady in place on her hips. It was as though they’d frozen: Y/N, out of a mixture of shock and red-cheeked embarrassment, and Tomioka out of utter cluelessness.
Another beat passed before the Water Pillar finally realized the compromising nature of their position. His hands dropped quickly from her hips, and there was a rush of air at Y/N’s back as he swiftly stepped away, putting distance between them once more. 
The raven-haired Slayer gruffly cleared his throat. “You should also keep wisteria on you.” And Y/N gulped down her embarrassment to turn back toward him. 
Tomioka kept his face neutral and cool, but the tips of his ears had turned pink. “Check your perfumes for it or ask one of the other shrine girls if you can borrow theirs – oil would be better. More concentrated”
Any residual awkwardness that may have lingered fell quickly away. The Miko only stared blankly at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as her eyebrows pinched together. “Perfume?”
Tomioka blinked. “Yes. As all women have.” 
It was an effort to fight off the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Exactly how many women do you know, Tomioka-sama? Such that you would know their perfumery habits, that is.” 
His mouth thinned into a firm line. “Enough.” 
And though Y/N supposed he’d meant to sound self-assured and confident, the Slayer was betrayed by the slight doubt in his voice, as though he’d been questioning his own answer. 
The shrine maiden only continued to look at him, her eyebrow slightly raised, amused. The longer the silence stretched between them,the more awkward the ravenette grew, his discomfort plain from the way he shifted under her stare. 
“You seem like someone who would use it.” He finally offered, after another moment of quiet.
It was her turn to blink, taken aback. Her smirk quickly slid from her face and with a grimace, she felt her right eye twitch, ever so slightly. “Apologies, then, for disappointing you.” 
Tomioka frowned and he made like he was going to respond, but the Miko squared her shoulders and stalked briskly past him. 
“I must return to my duties, and I’m sure you need to do the same,” she paused in the doorway of the garden hut and cast one, sidelong glance back to where he stood, clueless. “Until next time, Tomioka-sama. Thank you for the blade.”
With that, the Miko paced briskly away from the garden hut, her spine stiff. The Water Pillar remained in place for a moment, stupefied, before he collected himself once more, before setting off back toward the forest; to his Manor.
And as Giyuu retreated through the rusting Torii gate, he could not quite shake the distinct impression he’d done something wrong, though he knew not what. 
The Water Pillar returned the following week, though to a decidedly cooler greeting than that which he’d steadily grown accustomed to receiving. 
That wasn’t entirely true — the majority of the Shrine’s residents had welcomed him warmly, their kindness always far more than he thought he deserved. Only one hadn’t greeted him as enthusiastically as the others, and to his annoyance, that one was the only person whose opinion of him mattered, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why.
She hardly stopped to acknowledge his arrival, only gracing him with a brisk nod, though she’d refused to meet his eyes. Bemused, Giyuu followed her across the courtyard as she made her way to the Shrine’s small storeroom. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the Miko began pulling jars of dried herbs from the rickety shelves lining the walls and stacked them on a sizeable work counter that cut halfway across the room. All the while, she continued pointedly ignoring him, humming lightly under her breath as though she could not see or hear him as he shifted against the doorframe, waiting.
Her obstinate silence grated at him. “May I assist you?”
“No, no, I am perfectly fine, thank you.” She turned away to browse the shelves once more, before finding what she needed: a stone mortar and pestle.
The grinder settled against the wooden counter with a heavy thud and the shrine maiden snatched up one of the jars she’d stacked and dumped its contents into the bowl, followed by another bottle of herbs. Pestle in hand, she set to work grinding the leaves together, mixing in a vial of fragrant oil she’d kept in her pocket to create a thick paste.
Giyuu watched her quietly as she worked. “You’re…” he frowned. “You’re behaving strangely.”
Y/N glanced up at him. “In what way?” 
“You’re trying to avoid me.” 
“Am I?” She straightened, rolling her shoulders. “Only because I’ve not yet bathed today. I didn’t want to risk offending you with my stench.” 
Giyuu paused. “Why would that matter?” 
“You made sure to point out you thought I needed perfume during your last visit.” 
He pushed off the doorframe, eyebrows knit together. “For protection.” 
The shrine maiden rolled her eyes. “Yes, and apparently, because you believe I am the type to need it.” When Giyuu only continued to stare at her with that same, mildly lost expression, Y/N groaned, exasperated. “You implied I stink.” 
The Water Pillar’s jaw slackened as he gaped at her. “That is not –” 
“It is what you implied,” she repeated, turning away from him to focus on her task of grinding herbs, though the force with which she ground the pestle was perhaps greater than necessary.
Giyuu rounded the small countertop of the Shrine’s storeroom to face her head-on. “I like how you smell.” He insisted. “It’s nice.” 
The Miko’s irritated churning of the stone paused and her eyes finally lifted to his. For a long moment, she watched him, head slightly cocked. 
“You are very odd, Tomioka-sama.” 
But she said it with a small smile that he almost wanted to return. 
Before long, things between them returned to normal once more, with the Miko directing him to collect her gathering basket from where she’d left it in the Shrine’s infirmary and bring it to her. Once he returned, he helped her grind charcoal to make incense sticks as she chatted happily away. 
Surprisingly, Giyuu found himself not only engaged in her musings about daily life at the Shrine, but offering her small personal anecdotes of his own, though he was not nearly as proficient as she when it came to story-telling.  
Once the sun began setting once more, and he received no new orders from Headquarters, he simply sought out the Shrine’s head Priestess and silently passed her a small money bag. 
And then Giyuu retired to the guest’s quarters for the night. 
—--
As spring warmed into summer, the Water Pillar began making bi-weekly visits to the Shrine that quickly melted into habit; expectation. Once a fortnight, a thrill would settle over the young maidens in anticipation of the arrival of the stoic yet handsome Slayer, with girls of all ages eagerly looking toward the Shrine gates in hopes of spying him the moment he crossed beneath the Torii. The elder employees of the Shrine had learned to time Tomioka’s arrival by listening for their excited gasps, exhaled as a collective as brooms and rices sacks were dropped where their handlers stood, the girls far too interested in rushing to greet the exalted Slayer than they were in completing their tasks. 
“I do not see the reason for such excitement,” she sniffed, though even she wasn’t stupid enough to think her fellow trainees bought her bluff. “He is only a swordsman.” 
“A handsome one,” a wispy trainee named Miyoko sighed dreamily. “And no doubt strong and capable.”
The group of maidens dissolved into another fit of giggles, concealing their blushes behind their hands.
“His face is attractive, but his hair is odd,” another commented. “It looks like he’s hacked at it with his own blade.” 
“Oh, who cares about his hair? I’m far more interested in what’s beneath that uniform —“
“Enough,” Y/N snapped. While her friendship with the Water Pillar was tenuous  at best, the suggestive way her sisters-in-training spoke of him left her feeling decidedly discomforted.
Though, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she, too, wondered whether Tomioka’s strength was the product of a finely-hewn tuned physique. But she wasn’t, so she bottled that thought up and tucked it tightly away, where it belonged. 
Slowly, her cohorts all turned to look at her.
“You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister,” Miyoko directed at Y/N, who felt her cheeks heat. “Is there anything you’d like to share?”
“Tomioka-sama always asks where Sister Y/N is, the moment he arrives!” A tiny voice chimed, and Y/N’s eyes slid shut in an effort to fight off a wince.  “Sometimes they even do chores by themselves!”
Komatsu. At only ten, she was the Shrine’s youngest trainee, and followed Y/N around like a shadow. Not that the shrine maiden minded all that much; she tended to spoil the girl a bit, when she could. But as pure as the girl’s intentions surely were, she’d yet to lose that childlike earnestness that made her prone to revealing information that Y/N rather remained a secret. 
“Alone with a man?” Miyoko repeated, her eyes shining with malicious glee. “How scandalous — even for someone without a family to embarass, dear Y/N.”
“Careful, Miyoko,” she warned softly. “Don’t go speaking on matters of which you know nothing.” 
“Or what? What would you do?” 
As fond as Y/N was of her sisters-in-training, one did not make it through the Shrine’s rigorous education and training without learning how to trade in the kind of currency young women valued most.
Information; specifically, gossip. 
So the shrine maiden only leveled Miyoko’s own smug smirk with one of her own. “Or I shall tell Granny how you spend your afternoons kissing the boys from the village, rather than tending to your lessons.” 
The other girls gasped, their stares turning back to the gossiping shrine maiden. She savored how quickly the girl’s prideful grin slipped from her face as the weight of the threat settled. 
While Y/N, parentless and thus without anyone to truly care about her propriety, was being primed to take over Granny Priestess’s position overseeing the shrine, her position was unique. She was parentless and thus, without anyone to truly care about her propriety or whatever other ridiculous expectations of modesty that were often attached to other young women her age. In being no one, Y/N was relatively free to do as she pleased, and that freedom almost made up for her lack of belonging.
But the other girls residing at the Shrine were different. Families across the region sent their daughters to the Shrine for training, not only in their cultural practices and arts, but also for education; to become well-rounded women who would then serve to be valuable marriage prospects once they returned home. 
Scandal would not affect her; but it would affect someone like Miyoko.
“How do you think your parents would feel, to know their heir was behaving so brazenly in public? Risking her reputation on the marriage market before she’s even entered it?”
Truthfully, she liked Miyoko; had gotten along well with her, in fact. But she would not risk those sacred few moments she spent with the Water Pillar in an effort to keep the peace with another trainee. Not when those few instances she spent in his company were the only times she’d felt connection — true, human connection and belonging. 
Her sister-in-training ruefully fell silent, and Y/N savored her victory. Later, when she was left with nothing but the company of her own thoughts, however, the exchange played back in her mind.
In all her posturing, she’d managed to avoid having to answer for Miyoko’s lofty observation. 
You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister. 
She did; and, to her slight horror, she realized that she had no interest in stopping. 
She only wanted more.
It was past dawn when Giyuu trudged under the great Torii gate of the Shrine, exhausted and aching. 
It had been a long while since a demon was last capable of wounding him, but he’d been blown backward by a delayed attack that hit after he’d beheaded the damn thing. As a result, he’d been sent flying back, slamming through a dilapidated wall of the abandoned hut he’d tracked the creature to, resulting in a sizeable gash to his shoulder. 
He grit his teeth in mild annoyance. He would need some treatment of his wounds — not that they were deep by any means, but they were substantial enough that he knew infection could spell trouble for him, should it spread. 
Some small, irate voice in his head snidely reminded him he could have just as easily gone to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment — that, in fact, the Insect Pillar’s estate had been much closer to the location of his mission than the Shrine had been. He’d rationed that, as much as he admired and respected Kocho, he was still a bit raw from her mocking about how unliked he truly was among his comrades. 
Besides, he groused. Kocho was not the one he really wanted to see, anyway. 
He found Y/N in the Shrine’s storeroom, seated upon the floor with a detailed ledger spread out before her as she took inventory of various scrolls and texts.
Giyuu did not bother to announce himself. “You have medical training, do you not?”  
The Miko startled, the charcoal stick she’d been using to tally the ledger clattering to the floor. She blinked up at him in surprise. “Tomioka-sama — welcome, it’s been a few weeks — forgive me, I did not see you come in.” She quickly rose to her feet, shutting the store ledger and tucking it under her arm. 
Her eyes found the blood-stained shoulder of his hair and widened. “I have some; I can stitch and dress wounds —“
He nodded. “Then I require your assistance.” 
—-
Y/N led him to a small office inside the honden that served as the Shrine’s unofficial infirmary.  “Take a seat,” she nodded at a small stool that sat under the room’s solitary window, right by a modest working table. “Let me see what we have.” 
Tomioka sat upon the stool with his back to her as she busied herself sifting through cupboards in search of supplies. “What sort of wound is it?”
She turned back and nearly dropped a tin of medicinal salve she’d located as she beheld the Water Pillar strip himself of his clothing from the waist up. 
There, across his right shoulder blade, she saw it — saw his blood. Quickly, she located thread and a needle and she grabbed a roll of cloth that could double as wrappings and she crossed back across the room.  
She spread her bounty out across the table, right beside the neatly folded pile of his clothing. Silently, she set to work cleaning the gash, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that it was little more than a shallow flesh wound.
“Lucky you, this won’t need stitching,” she said lightly as she wiped away the last of the dried blood from the Water Pillar’s skin. “But I shall need to wrap it so it won’t become infected.”
Tomioka only gave her a curt nod. She stepped back to work open her tin of medical salve, and as she warmed the substance in her hands, she let herself fully examine the Swordsman sitting before her. Her eyes trailed over the sculpted planes of his back. It surprised her how muscular he was, given his leanness. Yet, without the layers of his uniform shirt and haori, she could see he was well-built, each muscle defined. 
She didn’t know why it surprised her that there was a man beneath the mask of the Slayer, but what a man he was. Her mouth went dry at the thought. It was an effort not to allow her eyes to wander lower; to ponder what he might look like under his uniform pants, stripped and fully bare before her — 
“What is that scent?” Tomioka’s sudden question startled her away from her increasingly treacherous thoughts. 
She’d never been more grateful to be facing away from him. That way, he could not see the blush coloring her cheeks as she hastily slathered the salve across his wound. “Anti-septic; I know it’s rather stringent, but — ”
The Water Pillar shook his head. “I know what antiseptic smells like. I mean you. The scent you wear.” 
She pursed her lips for a moment before she recalled the distinctly floral scent of her cleansing oils. “Sakaki blooms, I suppose.”
“What properties does it have — what are its effects on others?” He pressed. She was surprised at how insistent he seemed, and there was almost an urgency in his tone that unsettled her. 
“None, to my knowledge — why do you ask?”
The tips of Tomioka’s ears turned pink and he turned away from her, lips pressed into a firm line. “Forget I said anything.” he muttered after a moment, his shoulders and spine stiff.
Neither one of them spoke again as Y/N finished treating the Water Pillar’s  injury and wrapped it. 
“You're done,” she said after a moment, tapping him lightly on his other shoulder. 
“You have my thanks,” Tomioka quickly refastened the buttons of his uniform shirt as the Miko stepped aside, pointedly wiping her hands clean with a small cloth. She only looked at him once he lifted his haori from where he’d carefully laid it atop the small examination table, but her eyes narrowed as he rose from the stool, shrugging the material back over his shoulders. “I am happy to pay you for the resources you used —“ 
Y/N did not appear to be listening, not as she leaned forward and pinched the sleeve of his haori between her thumb and index finger. 
“You have a tear,” she frowned, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Right here, see?” 
There, on the side bearing his sister’s half of his haori, right where his sleeve met his shoulder, was indeed a small hole, the threads around it broken and shifting slightly in the wind. 
The Miko’s hand fell away, and she squared her shoulders, mouth set in a firm but determined line. “If you’ll give me a moment, I assure you I can have it repaired in no time –” 
“Not necessary,” the Swordsman said abruptly, twisting back from her. “I can figure it out on my own.” He would not part with it, would not so much as let another put their hands on it and risk ruining his most cherished possession. 
Y/N only stepped toward him, ignoring his attempt at distance. “There’s no need to be prideful,” she huffed impatiently. “Truly, it would take no effort at all –”
“No.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” She snapped, but her hands continued reaching for him, for his sleeve – 
Tomioka snatched her wrist mid-air and held it there, halting her. “No one touches this. Understand?” 
Y/N’s lips parted in faint surprise at the Water Pillar’s severity. Her eyes darted to where his fingers were locked tight – uncomfortably tight – around her wrist. When she glanced back at the stone-faced Slayer, she felt a chill lick down her spine. She’d known he could be intimidating against threats, even without saying a word. It was his eyes – his eyes would harden, with the lapiz hue of his irises darkening to something more akin to indigo, as he stared down an opponent. She’d witnessed it the very first night she’d met him. 
She just hadn’t thought she would ever be on the receiving end of such a cold glare. 
“I understand,” she said softly, and she began flexing her wrist against his grip in an effort to work herself free from his hold. “Please forgive my indiscretion, Tomioka-sama. I overstepped.” 
The raven-haired Slayer blinked and quickly let her go, her wrist falling limply back to her side. Just outside the infirmary’s small window, he heard the familiar, urgent cry of a crow.
He’d never been more grateful for a distraction.  “I must be on my way.” His tone was stiff; clipped. 
“But — you’ve only just arrived —“ 
“Farewell, Y/N.” Giyuu gave her a curt nod.
Helplessly, the Miko watched as the Water Pillar stalked out of the small office, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He did not so much as spare a glance back, leaving Y/N to wonder whether she would see that odd patterned haori again.
The thought she might not made something cold and heavy sink into her gut.
—-
(One week later)
It wasn’t often that Giyuu Tomioka found himself annoyed, much less angry. He much preferred channeling his existing emotions into slaying demons, allowing them to taste a fraction of the rage and hatred he felt deep within, a vicious fire he so rarely let bubble up to his service.
Until that evening. After the fiasco that was Mount Natagumo and the subsequent chaos at the Master’s mansion as a result of the Kamado boy and his demon sister, Giyuu had finally noticed that the previous day’s trials had resulted in the tear along the shoulder of his haori that he knew could no longer be ignored. 
He grit his teeth; the battle against the Lower Moon spider demon had hardly required him to exert any energy — yet the demon’s last ditch attempt to preserve its life had managed to enlarge the small hole in his most prized possession, and the Water Pillar was utterly without the skill to repair it. 
So, he’d been forced to sit through the meeting with the Master, the hole in his haori feeling more like a gaping wound that only festered with every passing moment, until finally, finally they’d been dismissed. 
Giyuu hadn’t wasted any time departing swiftly from his Master’s estate, though that hadn’t stopped him from catching the tail end of Shinazugawa’s biting remark of how fuckin’ typical it was for him to leave without so much as a farewell to his comrades. He tried not to let the Wind Pillar’s words get to him; but he was unworthy of their company regardless, so he supposed it really didn’t matter what they thought of him. It shouldn’t. 
And so, that was how Giyuu found himself padding silently along the cracked, stone pathway which led to the Shrine at the edge of his designated territory, ready to eat crow and ask for assistance from a particular Miko whom he felt certain would not hesitate to remind him of how he’d coolly rejected her help only days earlier. 
Hence, his irritation. 
So, his movements stiff and his mouth twisted into a firm grimace, Giyuu stalked under the Torii and into the main courtyard of the old Shrine. It was coming upon midday, though there was a thick cover of clouds overhead that threatened that open up at any moment and shower rain across the region. He ignored the respectful bows of the Shrine’s various inhabitants and staff, eyes sweeping over faces in search of her. 
He located her near the storehouse, chatting with one of her fellow trainees as the pair worked to clean vegetables. Giyuu trudged over to her, eyes locked unwaveringly on her serene, easy smile, as he tried to ignore the way it made something in his gut clench and churn. 
He drew to a stop right before her and her Shrine-sister, the latter looking up at him with wide eyes, her hands stilling over her work as she looked up to the Slayer in awe. 
Giyuu cleared his throat but Y/N only continued wiping the dirt from carrots with her cloth. 
The ravenette tried again. “I am in need of your assistance.” 
Y/N’s comrade nudged her with her elbow, but the Miko only continued to clean, pointedly ignoring them both. 
Giyuu pursed his lips. “With my haori. The tear has grown larger —“
“I am busy.” Y/N’s tone was clipped. “Perhaps there are others who might assist you.”
“Please.” 
The Shrine Maiden’s hands finally stilled and she lifted her chin to face him. The moment she beheld the pleading sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the hard set of his jaw that betrayed just how desperate he was, her gaze softened.
She sighed. “Very well then,” she rose, brushing her hands free of any residual dirt. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders, determined not to show him how he’d bruised her ego; how he’d frightened her. “Follow me.”
The Shrine sat at the base of a great mountain. But, nearly half a kilometer up the winding, twisting path leading up the mountain and carved into its side, was a grassy hilltop that then plateaued into a small overlook that boasted a phenomenal aerial view of the Shrine below. 
The summer grass had turned a vibrant shade of emerald, broken up only by dots of tiny white and blue wildflowers that had gathered in small clusters sprinkled throughout the overlook. At the back of the clearing stood an ancient willow tree, its trunk gnarled and knotted with age, its wisps swaying lazily in the wind.   
It was her favorite spot; a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of the Shrine, which meant they would have some privacy as she worked. Y/N settled down against the grass and pulled a needle and a spool of thread from her pocket. She turned her face up toward the Water Pillar where he stood over her. “I’ll take that haori, now, if you’ll please.” 
Wordlessly, Tomioka carefully slid the garment from his shoulders and handed it to her, though he hesitated in letting go as she took it gingerly into her hands. 
It was clearly very important to the Slayer, and perhaps that was why she felt the need to reassure him. “I promise to take care of it.”
He nodded stiffly and let go of the fabric and the Miko quickly set to work repairing its torn shoulder. The Water Pillar lingered awkwardly beside her for a moment longer before he too, sat in the grass next to her, though his back remained straight, his posture rigid.
She glanced at him as her needle wove the haori’s fabric back together. “I suppose this happened because of your occupation?” 
It was faint, but the shrine maiden swore she saw his mouth twitch into something reminiscent of a grimace. “Yes.”
“You should be lucky it wasn’t your flesh.”
At that, Tomioka scoffed. “I would not allow such a weakling to get close enough to try.”
“My, I’d not pegged you as the boastful sort, Tomioka-sama.”
“It’s not boasting; I speak only the truth.” He retorted evenly. 
The shrine maiden only hummed as she worked. “And what of your family? Do they support your path as a Slayer?”
The Water Pillar turned his head away, his form stiff. For a moment, the Miko feared she would be left to repair his haori in silence, with nothing but the faint whistling of birds to keep her company. 
“I have none,” Tomioka’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the wind. “There is no one left to object, even if they wanted to.”
Y/N’s hands paused their work as she thought. “You are alone?”
It would be nice, she supposed, to find another who, like her, belonged to no one; a kindred spirit of sorts.
“I suppose,” Tomioka spoke up after a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. “I have a mentor. But it was he who trained me to join the Corps.” 
“I should hope he’s more sober than mine,” Y/N drawled. “And less irritating.” 
The Miko’s attention was so fixed on her careful stitching along the hole in his haori, that she didn’t see his faint smile at her words. 
——
The Slayer and the shrine maiden continued talking long after she’d finished repairing the tear in his haori. It was only when Tomioka had realized nightfall was a mere hour away that the two reluctantly descended the hillside to return to the Shrine.
“I almost forgot.” The Water Pillar said, halting in front of the honden as Y/N escorted him back to the Shrine’s entrance. He dug into his pockets and pulled something free. “Here. For you.” 
The Miko gaped down at the fat red fruit that sat heavily in his palm. “This is -“ she said breathlessly, “A pomegranate!” 
He nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand. 
She shook her head. “No, Tomioka-san, I cannot accept something so expensive-“
“I insist.” The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.
Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit. 
She lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but she was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized he’d moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier. 
Tomioka’s azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer. 
Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so. As her emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillar’s gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip. 
“Pomegranate juice,” he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what he’d just done. 
“Yes,” she breathed, before she felt her cheeks heat. “I – I mean, thank you.”
The Water Pillar’s gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach twisted violently. All at once, awareness seemed to come crashing down upon him, and he then stepped back, his hand falling from its hold on her face and back to his side.
The shrine maiden remained frozen in place for a heartbeat longer. “Are you certain you’re unable to be our guest tonight?” Her voice was little more than a pitiful squeak.
Her eyes lifted to his and she knew the answer before he spoke it. “I cannot,” and to her surprise, he almost looked as disappointed as she felt, but he added hastily, “But I will be back. Soon.”
“Soon,” she echoed, feeling rather dazed. “Yes. Of course. I — we — look forward to it.”
She was thankful that Tomioka had already turned away from her as he made his way down the long, winding steps that led to the main route out of the forest; that way, he could not see the way her cheeks burned crimson, or how she buried her face in her hands as she cursed her own embarrassment.
Giyuu was grateful his back was to the young Miko as he retreated through the Shrine’s gates and back to the path which would lead him home. It meant she could not see as he stared at his thumb – the thumb he’d used to clear away the small bead of pomegranate juice from her lips – or how his eyebrows pinched together. It meant she could not hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest at the memory of how soft and full her lip had been beneath the pad of his thumb, soft enough that some treacherous part of his brain had urged him to lean in, to see if her lips would feel as good against his – 
He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel his wild intrusive thoughts. It was ludicrous; he did not think of the young shrine maiden in that way. Not when she frequently sought to needle him, not when she frustrated him to no end. 
His collar suddenly felt tight; his skin, far too hot. His gaze dropped back down to the hand that had touched her, and it clenched. 
A pomegranate. It was only a pomegranate; nothing more. 
“It was a thank you gift,” Giyuu declared, as though speaking the words out loud gave them more force. “It is nothing more than an expression of gratitude.”
And even his crow, ancient and dull as he was, scoffed at the obviousness of the lie.
——
Late Summer, 1915
Summer blazed hot and humid. But neither the sweltering heat of the sun nor the most arduous missions he took exhausted Giyuu more than the complicated, tangled mess of feelings that had taken root within him. Because with every day that passed, the Miko of the Shrine at the edge of the forest occupied more and more of his mind. And Giyuu did not know what it meant or what he should do about it. 
She’d not just repaired his haori or made him salmon; she’d somehow wormed her way into his every waking thought, and to his great confusion, he found himself almost unwilling to think of anything but her. 
Admittedly, Giyuu Tomioka did not have the requisite tools in his social arsenal to successfully navigate human interaction. He hadn’t quite known the extent of his ineptitude however, until the Insect Pillar had so cheerfully pointed out that none of his comrades, in fact, liked him. That revelation had made him doubt every interaction he’d had since, made him wonder whether even the lower ranked Slayers viewed him with the same apathy, if not the same outright hostility toward him shared by Shinazugawa and Iguro.
He’d come to doubt them all — except her.
Y/N was different; at the end of each visit to the Shrine, the Water Pillar did not find himself feeling drained or unwanted.  He felt lighter; rejuvenated, even. She was a breath of fresh air that Giyuu found more difficult to go without with each passing day. 
She still picked at him, but she did so without the malice he’d normally come to expect, even from those he considered friends, like the Kocho. The young Miko had a way of teasing him that did not leave him feeling decidedly othered. Rather, her japes only spurred him to respond with his own, though admittedly, they tended to fall flat.
He’d known, from the moment she’d attempted to bludgeon him with her broom, that there was more to the Miko than met the eye; but he hadn’t imagined he’d find himself as drawn to her as he was, unable to tolerate going more than a handful of weeks without paying her a visit.
And, given the way she’d blushed after he’d thanked her for repairing his haori, perhaps she was drawn to him, too. Perhaps he hoped she was.
But he would have to wait to find out, for his obligations to the Corps had taken him to a village a considerable distance away from his designated territory. He’d been tasked with investigating a series of disappearances of young women in the region, but his orders had come abruptly enough that he’d not been able to spare a visit to the Shrine before he departed.
He was anxious — eager — to return, though not before he took care of the demon likely behind the mystery plaguing the village he now patrolled.
Nightfall was still a little ways off, and so Giyuu found himself wandering the streets to pass the time. He made his way to a sizeable outdoor market, still packed with shoppers oohing and ahhing over vibrant displays of silk, crafted jewelry, and sugary confectioneries.
Idly, he too, joined other patrons in browsing the small vending stands that lined the bustling village streets, though his perusal was disinterested, if not bored. But his eyes snagged on one small bauble displayed on the merchant’s small stand upon a swath of silk. It was small; unassuming. But the carefully crafted decoration was painted in a startling shade of crimson that he found hard to ignore. 
The image of a certain Miko flashed through his mind. He couldn’t leave without it. he wouldn’t; not when its paint so perfectly matched the color of Y/N’s hakama trousers.
I spend the year longing for autumn. That was what she’d told him, that day on the hillside after she’d repaired his haori. 
He almost smiled to himself. This would be a way for her to enjoy her favorite season even in the scorching heat of summer or the biting cold of winter. 
He waited for the merchant to notice his presence, his fingers twisting around the small money sack he kept tucked in his pocket. His eyes flickered back to the small trinket. Idly, Giyuu wondered when he’d begun associating the color red with the shrine maiden and not with the blood he’d always imagined stained his hands. 
He continued to stare the merchant down until he finally managed to catch the vendor’s eye, who flinched at the intensity of his unblinking stare.   
Giyuu jutted his chin toward the small token. “How much?” 
—-
He found the Miko a few mornings later, relaxing on the hillside overlooking the Shrine. She laid amongst the late summer wildflowers that had bloomed, her form framed against the grass with petals of soft blue and bright marigold. 
Giyuu wordlessly settled beside her, and he tried to ignore the thunderous beat of his heart against his sternum as she rolled her head toward him to greet him with a sleepy smile. They exchanged pleasantries and settled into a comfortable silence, both content to watch the sun rise higher over the horizon.
Easy; it was so easy for him to sit beside her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 
“So, you are to take over the Shrine, one day?”
Y/N’s head turned to the Water Pillar in surprise; though he’d grown steadily more talkative over the months since she’d met him, it wasn’t often that he initiated conversation. 
She settled back against the cool grass of the hilltop overlooking the Shrine, enjoying the precious few moments of quiet in the early morning before the chaos of the day called her away. “Yes,” though there was a slight uncertainty in her voice. “I’m sure it’s the expectation, after all. I have to repay Granny for her kindness.”
Giyuu frowned. “But is that what you want?”
“What I want is irrelevant,” the Miko folded her arms behind her head and tilted her face up toward the sky. Her eyes tracked the great, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily by, though the Water Pillar suspected she was attempting to avoid having to meet his eye. 
“It’s not irrelevant,” he countered. “If nothing else, you should be allowed to consider other possibilities.”
She did not answer him, and the silence between them stretched enough that he thought to drop the subject, not wanting to press her any further. 
“I think,” she said in that faraway voice that Giyuu had come to learn meant she was trying to conceal some deeply felt emotion. “I think should like to belong somewhere.” Her eyes shone. “No, that’s not it — I want someone to belong to me, and I to them. 
“A husband.” He said flatly. 
The Miko shook her head. “I have never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. I’ve no family to call my own - only an old woman who took pity on me as an infant and raised me. I wonder — what must it be like?” She laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. “That is the one thing I would change. I belong nowhere because I’m no one — nobody’s.” 
Giyuu frowned. “I don’t think that’s true—“
“It is true,” she insisted, though she said it with such ease and conviction, like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. “I am here for a moment and then I will be gone, and no one will ever know or remember that there once was a shrine maiden named Y/N here. I’ve made peace with that.”
I would, Giyuu wanted to tell her. I would remember and I would tell them all. 
“I am nobody as well,” Giyuu admitted quietly after a moment. “And I have no one left to belong to.” 
The image of her face, so kind and sad and full of understanding at his words, had stayed with him for the rest of the morning and even as he settled in for a few hours of sleep in the Shrine’s guest wing.  
And in his dreams, her face remained a constant.
The sky had turned a vivid shade of orange by the time the Water Pillar emerged from his guest lodgings, ready to depart and resume his duties.  Y/N had been helping another shrine maiden tote firewood across the courtyard when she heard a quiet call of her name.
She turned and saw the raven-haired Swordsman standing near the great Torii gate. 
She looked back to her fellow trainee, who waved her off with a knowing smile, and Y/N brushed her hands clean against her hakama pants before she approached him. 
“Leaving so soon?” And she tried to mask her disappointment at the shortness of his visit. 
Giyuu nodded. “We’ve been stretched thin, in light of a few…changes to our ranks.”
The Miko nodded grimly. He’d told her that a fellow Hashira had been slain a few months prior, and another had retired following a rather violent battle that had destroyed part of a far off city.
“But I wanted to give you this.”
She glanced down to his outstretched hand, where a small parcel was wrapped in plain furoshiki cloth. Stunned, she took the package from him, her eyes flicking between it and the Water Pillar watching her intently.
Gingerly, she unfolded the bundle and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.
A hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillar’s precious gift to her to crumble. 
I spend the year longing for autumn, she’d told him. She hadn’t thought he’d been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks. 
As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint — a perfect match to the hue of her traditional Miko hakama pants — Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than she’d realized. 
For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round. 
“Tomioka-san, you do not-“ 
“Giyuu.” The ravenette interrupted her. “Please, call me by my name; it’s Giyuu.” 
Y/N’s mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. “Alright. Giyuu — please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us — it was only salmon.” 
But Giyuu only shook his head. “I don’t bring gifts for everyone; just you.” 
Y/N turned scarlet. 
“Please, just-“ Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashira’s cheeks. “Just take it.” 
“Okay,” her voice resembled a mouse’s squeak as she cradled the pin delicately between her hands. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” 
“And it wasn’t just salmon.” 
Y/N looked to him in surprise, her head cocked in curiosity. “Pardon?” 
Giyuu exhaled harshly through his nose before stepping closer to her. “This is not only because you made salmon.” Her eyes tracked his hand as it rose to grip the front fold of his haori in his fist. “This – this is all I have left of my family.” 
“My sister,” he gestured to the red half of his haori. “She died protecting me.” His hand drifted to the green and orange patterned half of the garment. “And this belonged to a dear friend. He also perished protecting me – and others.”
The Miko’s lips parted, understanding and sorrow flooding her eyes. “Tomioka-san — Giyuu — I had no idea —“
“They both died because of demons – because I could not help them. And now this is all I have left to remember them by.” And then he did the unthinkable; he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the checkered portion of his haori, right over his heart. His hand was warm and firm. Gentle, though she could feel his callouses against her knuckles as he held it in place. “So it wasn’t just salmon.” He repeated, and there was a heat in his eyes Y/N had not seen before, one that stoked a fire in her belly. “And you are not just anyone.” 
A soft exhale blew past her lips at the sincerity of his words. For the first time in all her nineteen years, she wondered if this was what it meant to mean something to someone.
“Thank you,” she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed emotion. “I will treasure it.”
She swore she saw a faint blush creep across the Water Pillar’s cheeks, but she brushed it aside as nothing more than the shadows of the sky as twilight darkened the horizon. 
Tomioka nodded. “I must get going now; I will see you soon.”
She did not want him to go.
But the shrine maiden concealed the pang she felt in her chest with a breezy smile. “Farewell, Tomio-“
“Giyuu.” 
She blushed. “Yes — Giyuu. Until next time.”
“I cannot believe he lets the old woman charge him an arm and a leg to stay a single night,” Miyoko said in awe as the pair watched the retreating form of the Water Pillar through the shrine house gates. 
The hairpin clutched tightly in her hands suddenly felt like a stone weight. “I’m sure he stays here only for convenience’s sake,” Y/N replied airily, turning sharply away from the egress to the shrine to hide her warming cheeks.  
Miyoko snorted. “Hardly. The Demon Slayer Corps has tons of safehouses throughout the country. Corps members get medical treatment, hot meals, and lodging free of charge.” Y/N’s sister-in-training grunted as she heaved a hefty bag of rice flour from the storeroom to the girls’ side, no doubt hauling it out to prepare the evening meal. 
“I’ve heard of at least four such houses in this region alone. As a Hashira, Tomioka-sama could go to any one of them and be treated far more kindly than he is here.” 
Y/N frowned. “I wonder why, then, he continues to return here so often? Surely our shrine is some distance from his home, given that he stays the night each time.” 
Miyoko shot the young shrine maiden a knowing glance. “Perhaps he tolerates the Granny’s abuse because he is fond of the company.” 
Y/N only felt her face grow hotter as she ducked down, though she felt Miyoko’s amused stare burn through her back. 
—-
The Water Pillar had returned from his intel assignment and promptly journeyed to the Shrine, its inhabitants abuzz as they prepared for the arrival of autumn and the colder months, now only mere weeks away. 
He found the shrine maiden of his interest inside the main wing of the manor, back in the kitchen as she prepared herbs to be incorporated into various salves and medications. Y/N smiled brightly at him as he’d sidled up beside her, taking a handful of dried greenery from the bunch next to her and deftly pulling the leaves from the stem and handing them to her. 
“Is it your day off?” The Miko gratefully accepted the leaves he’d stripped and dumped them into the rocky mortar to join the others. 
Giyuu felt his stomach clench as his fingers brushed against hers. “I have completed my duties for the time being, yes.”
"You're welcome to help me, as long as you do not mind a bit of busy work."
He didn't; of course he didn't. In fact, as he accepted the heavy stone pestle from the Miko and set to work mashing the leaves she handed them into the mortar, Giyuu rather supposed he would do just about anything to remain in the shrine maiden's company, even if that meant assisting her in a task as banal as grinding medicinal herbs. And though the Slayer and the Miko fell into their well-practiced habit of quietly tending to Y/N's duties side by side, there was a notable absence of the bright chatter he'd grown accustomed to hearing during his visits.
The Water Pillar frowned. “You’re quiet.” It was not a question. “There is something on your mind.” 
“Is there?” Y/N hummed loftily, her hands continuing to strip leaves from their stems. “Perhaps I am simply focused.” 
Giyuu found his eyes wandering to the side to study the Miko’s face more often than usual. Though she maintained a pleasant smile as they worked, he could see that it did not fully reach her eyes. And even her sage expression could not conceal the way the troubled look in her eyes, hands pausing their work as she stared at something behind the walls of the small shrine kitchen. 
“Something is bothering you.” Giyuu took the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands and replaced them with his pestle, allowing her to work her frustrations over the paste forming at the bottom of the stone bowl. 
She blushed and refocused her gaze, grinding the pestle hard. “Nothing is wrong!” She chirped. 
“You are a dreadful liar.”
The Miko replied with an airy laugh that made his throat tighten. “So I’ve been told — often, in fact.” 
“There is…trouble in the village,” Y/N said carefully, though she kept her hands busy as she continued to grind herbs into a thick paste. “It is nothing we can’t handle, but it has put many of us on edge. Particularly Granny.” 
Giyuu frowned as he handed the shrine maiden another bunch of leaves from her basket. “What sort of trouble?” 
She hesitated. “It is petty village drama, nothing more.”
“You won’t give any further details?” 
The Water Pillar could not explain it, but he found himself troubled by the way the Shrine Maiden forced a smile and a far too casual shrug of her shoulders. “There are none worth re-hashing.” 
He frowned, but he did not press her further, resolving instead to poke around later. Perhaps he would see whether the Shrine’s head Priestess’s tongue was as loose with information as it was with vulgarity once she’d properly indulged in her sake; he’d make certain she was well-stocked in advance. 
Giyuu furtively glanced back at the shrine maiden’s profile, in part to see whether he could deduce anything from her expressions, but he found himself instead studying her, puzzling over a change in her appearance he hadn’t noticed before.
Sensing his stare, the Miko turned to him with a light smile that then  faltered. “What –?”
“You changed your hair.” It took everything within him not to reach out, to see if her hair would feel as silky in his fingers as it looked shifting softly in the wind. “I’ve never seen it down.” 
“Oh!” Her smile turned bashful, a pretty pink dusting spreading across her cheeks. “I wanted to wear my hairpin – see?” 
She turned her head, the long curtain of her hair rippling smoothly with the movement. With her back to him, Giyuu could see the pin he’d given her neatly tucked into the long strands of her hair, pinning half of it back. The red of the pin’s maple leaves posed a lovely contrast with the hue of her hair. 
Y/N was already quite beautiful, but with her hair partially down, he thought she looked softer; younger. She peeked over her shoulder at him, fingers nervously combing through her tresses. “It’s not practical for every day, of course, but I thought since you’d likely be arriving soon –” 
His eyes widened and Giyuu became acutely aware that his heart now thumped wildly in his throat as Y/N choked off with a squeak, apparently realizing what she’d revealed. Though she hurriedly turned back around, Giyuu could see how the tips of her ears burned bright red. 
Despite her efforts, her admission hung like a cloud in the air between them. She’d worn it – the hairpin – for him. 
Giyuu swallowed thickly. “I like it.” He cleared his throat and turned, allowing his own unruly hair to obscure his face. “On you, that is.” 
For once, the Miko had neither a quick remark nor barb to lob back at him. Instead, she only turned back to her task of grinding her herbs, a thick curtain of her hair concealing her face from his sight.
Once she'd finished bottling up her new medicinal salves, Giyuu helped her carry the tins to the Shrine's storage house, directly across the courtyard from its main wing. The shrine maiden remained curiously quiet, even in spite of his own lame attempts to converse with her. He'd finally given up after his dry comment about the weather went ignored. But every so often, he let his eyes wander to her as they returned to the honden, and that nagging feeling returned as he watched her gnaw incessantly at her bottom lip, a faraway look in her eyes. 
Giyuu was not a nosy man, but the Miko's clear distraction unsettled him. He was about to pull her aside, to demand she tell him exactly what it was that had chased away the smile he so longed to see when they were approached by Y/N's haughty Master.
“Lord Tomioka,” the head Priestess nodded curtly at him in greeting. “I am glad to have run into you — I am in need of your assistance.”
The old Priestess turned to her young protégée. “Go assist the younger ones; they need to give their offerings before dinner.” 
Y/N’s mouth opened to protest but the head Priestess cut her off. “Now.”
To his surprise, the shrine maiden did not argue with her Master, only turning to him to give him a helpless shrug before she began to make her way toward the Shrine’s honden. 
The Water Pillar grimaced. He tried to convince himself the pit in his stomach was only because her odd behavior gnawed at him; that he was only curious to learn what it was that troubled her.  But as the Miko cast one last, reluctant look over her shoulder at him, Giyuu found that he was as unwilling to watch her go as she was to leave. 
If the Shrine’s head priestess noticed his inner anguish, she paid it no mind. “You will accompany me in the kitchen.”
—-
The first thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of the scent of sake, which he’d grown accustomed to following the Priestess around like a pungent cloud of perfume. He resisted the urge to scowl; he would have to find another way to get the old woman to talk.
Giyuu followed the woman into the small structure that stood adjacent to the honden that served as the Shrine’s kitchen. He watched silently as she pulled a cleaver, large and deadly sharp, free from where it was stored in a cabinet and laid it atop a butcher’s block. The elder stepped outside of the kitchen and returned a moment later, a recently de-feathered and skinned chicken in hand.
“Things around here seem…tense,” Giyuu observed carefully  as the old woman slapped the chicken on the counter for preparation. 
“Tense is one word for it, I reckon,” she bit, taking up her cleaver. “The world we live in is dark. I should think you would know that better than most.”
The corner of his mouth dipped down. “But even your girls seem unusually subdued; distracted.” 
Her eyes flashed to his, piercing and sharp. “You mean Y/N.”
It wasn’t a question. 
“She is always restless this time of year,” the old woman sighed. “Though she loves autumn, she despises winter — or, rather, she despises how it reminds her of what she does not have. And winter is well on its way.” 
He nodded, recalling what the shrine maiden had revealed to him that day, on the hillside.
“But your observation is correct — that is not all of the reason she is so distracted,” the old Priestess said darkly, and Giyuu was surprised to see how alert and focused the normally soused elder seemed. “A man from the village — Susumo — has been following her. Demanding her.” 
Giyyu straightened. “What do you mean by ‘demand?’” 
The haggard woman cursed below her breath as she broke down the chicken’s body. “I mean in the way that men often feel entitled to women — especially angry drunks like him.” 
Every hair on Giyuu’s body stood straight as the weight of the Priestess’ warning settled. 
“I have forbidden her from venturing out in the dark alone,” the Granny continued, harshly wrenching a joint on the fowl. 
“She is a Priestess in training; surely that status affords her some protection?” Giyuu’s knuckles turned white where his fists clenched at his sides. 
“I’m not sure the shrine is enough to keep him out for much longer. He’s been lingering — and threatening consequences, if I do not agree to hand her over to him for marriage.” The old Priestess grimaced. “Her status does her no good if he burns this place to the ground.” 
The old woman set her cleaver next to her with a heavy thud, her frustration palpable. “The girl is of age, and I am not her blood family; there is no one here who can claim authority over her, not like a parent or an elder sibling.” When her eyes lifted to his, Giyuu could see a hint of fear underlying the hard anger in her gaze. “These days, I half-expect to awaken and find that she’s been stolen in the night.” 
The Water Pillar felt his jaw clench. It was rare that he felt the burning flush of anger and it was not directed at a demon, but the idea that Y/N was being harassed and threatened by some village drunkard who felt entitled to her, lit something hot in his stomach. For as vexatious and confounding as he found the young Miko to be, no one deserved to be stalked like prey. 
Especially her. 
“I’ve had a crow stationed here to alert me of any demon attacks for months,” Giyuu began, and the old woman looked to him in surprise. “But I will assign more to keep watch during the day. If there is anything strange afoot, they will tell you.” He paused a moment before adding, “And they will alert me, too.”
The head Priestess laid down her cleaver to look at him, long and hard. “Then she may have a fighting chance yet, Lord Hashira.”
————-
By the time he found Y/N once more, dinner was over and the moon had risen high in the night sky, casting the shrine grounds in its pale, silvery glow.
He’d told her, rather tersely, that he was unable to stay the night, and he tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the crestfallen look that flashed across her face. Despite her tangible disappointment, she insisted on escorting him out of the Shrine, desperate to cling to every second that might be spared to them.
“You are rather quiet tonight,” the Miko observed, walking him to the grand Torii. “More so than usual.” It was an understatement; the Water Pillar had been downright sullen and withdrawn from the moment he’d returned from whatever takes Granny had insisted she help him with. 
Rather than give her any explanation, Giyuu halted his step and reached for her wrist, stilling her. “You did not tell me you were being harassed.” 
She looked up to the Water Pillar in surprise. “How did you —?” 
He released her from his grip in favor of drawing closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Y/N opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find her words. “I suppose,” she began, but her mouth quirked down in a frown. “I did not think you needed to be burdened by something so insignificant.” 
Giyuu stared at her as he mouthed the word insignificant, the look he shot her giving the distinct impression he thought her an idiot. “I do not think your safety is insignificant,” Giyuu’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, clenching it tight. “Nor do I think you are insignificant.” 
“Compared to your other obligations? I should think I’m very unimportant.” Y/N turned away from him, fiddling with a gathering basket she carried on her hip to avoid having to look him in the eyes.
But the raven-haired Pillar caught her wrist and turned her back to face him, not willing to be ignored. “If you call for me, I will come to you.” 
Y/N’s heart lurched at the Water Pillar’s words, spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made her falter in her step. “Tomioka-san,” she said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she turned to him. “You have far more important duties to see to than to concern yourself with than mere village drama —“
But the raven-haired Hashira only shook his head as he took another step towards her, his expression severe; calculating. “You have the knife I gave you, yes?” His eyes dropped to her pocket, and Y/N felt compelled to show him that the small blade was indeed tucked safely within the folds of her hakama pants. 
“Giyuu,” she pled, and she noted the way that he twitched towards her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. “Please, don’t worry —“
“I do not make promises I cannot keep,” the Water Pillar cut her off, closing the distance between them until the tips of his zori nearly grazed hers, his head bent down towards her as the heat of his stare threatened to consume her. “So I repeat: if you call for me, I will come to you.” 
Any thought of arguing faded from her mind as Y/N became keenly aware of the lack of space between their bodies, of the way her hands, clasped in front of her chest brushed against the folds of his haori as it shifted softly with the wind. 
“I understand,” she breathed. Y/N held his gaze for a long moment, though it was in part due to the battle waging within her not to allow her eyes to drop to his lips.
She would not let herself acknowledge how close they were; how soft they looked, or how warm they might feel against hers; her skin. 
Giyuu lingered as well; after a pregnant pause, he finally stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a trance. “Good,” he nodded, and he glanced furtively over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he nodded as though satisfied before he turned crisply on his heel to begin his trek towards his duties and away from her. “Do not forget.” He called one last time over his shoulder, before the shadows of the woods swallowed him whole. 
As Y/N dazedly made her way back towards the shrine, a crow following closely behind her, she almost laughed at the suggestion she could. 
——-
Autumn, 1915
The weeks passed by without much fuss, and soon, the palpable tension that had settled over the Shrine as a result of Susumo’s lingering threats subsided. Soon, life at the Shrine returned to normal, and Y/N often found her mind wandering to thoughts of raven hair and endless blue eyes. 
Until that night.
It had been a normal evening at the Shrine; autumn, blissful autumn had arrived, heralding forth crisp winds and golden skies. Though the days were steadily growing shorter, Y/N found herself rejuvenated by the new chill, especially as she watched the leaves of the trees shift from green to gold to ruby. 
The leaves on her hairpin indeed had been a perfect match to those which were steadily drifting from the tall maples dotting the Shrine. Though she couldn’t wear her hair down the way she had the last time the Water Pillar paid the Shrine a visit, Y/N had found new ways to incorporate his gift into her daily life, weaving it through her plait or tucking it behind her ear. 
That night had been one like any other; after dinner, the girls of the Shrine had scattered to tend to their evening duties.  The shrine maiden had been walking alongside her Master, planning for the upcoming festival in the nearby village, during which the Shrine would seek new patrons to keep it operational. The women mulled over which families might be more inclined to assist them, and settled on a prominent merchant known to frequent other shrines on his travels through the country.
That was when they’d spotted the smoke.
“Fire!” A shrill voice cried, and both the old Priestess and Y/N blanched. “The honden is on fire!”
All at once, chaos broke out across the Shrine grounds as girls darted to and fro, frantic. Granny began barking at her charges, ordering the younger ones to gather in the courtyard while instructing the older girls to assist in putting out the flames.
"The granary!" Someone else cried. "The granary has gone up in flames!"
The elder Priestess snatched Y/N's wrist in her weathered hand. “The scrolls!” Granny's expression of horror was a sure match to her own. “They’re in the storeroom near the granary!” 
The scrolls in question had been in the Shrine’s custody for over five hundred years, carrying sacred inscriptions of the gods and prayers essential to its operation and legitimacy.
They were priceless; irreplaceable. 
“I’ll go!” And before her Master could protest, the Miko had already turned away and began sprinting toward the fire that was rapidly engulfing the granary near the back of the property.  
Thankfully, the storeroom had yet to catch fire, but if the one steadily consuming the granary was not dealt with soon, it wouldn’t be long before it spread to consume the small wooden hut. 
And Y/N knew it wouldn’t take much to reduce the storeroom to ash. 
Coughing, she pressed her arm to her nose and mouth, using the large bell sleeve of her kosode to block some of the smoke that burned her eyes and nose. She pulled her other sleeve over her hand to protect it as she pushed the storehouse’s door aside. 
Inside was dark; quiet. Though the nighttime made it difficult for her to see the scrolls and prints carefully rolled and tucked away into tiny cubbies lining the hut’s walls, Y/N wasn’t stupid enough to waste time searching for a candle to light. So, with only the flames eating away at the granary at her back to light her way, she began pulling handfuls of scrolls free from their storage, tucking them under her arm. 
She turned to take her first armload of priceless Shrine artifacts from the storeroom and nearly tripped over a collection of heated coal pans that had been stacked in the corner to keep the scrolls sealed within the room at a stable temperature. She managed to hold onto her scrolls, however, and she quickly moved them away from the hut, placing them safely on a nearby rock that was still far enough away from the storeroom should it catch fire. She returned to the hut to survey what else she needed to salvage, but a familiar, tiny yelp and the flurry of movement in her periphery made the Miko’s stomach twist.
“Komatsu!” Y/N turned and saw the anxious younger girl lingering at the storage hut’s door, her tiny hands trembling. “Get away from here! It’s not safe!” 
“B-but Sister,” the girl cried, hopping anxiously from foot to foot. “This is too much to do on your own —“
“You need to go find Granny,” the shrine maiden ordered. “I will join you in a moment.”
The girl’s lower lip wobbled. “But —,”
“Now!”
With a great sniff, the girl turned away, leaving Y/N alone once more. The Miko sighed and resumed her hasty perusal of the hut’s shelves, searching for anything else that could not be replaced. 
There was a rustling near the doorway and Y/N bit her lip in an effort not to swear in front of her younger peer. “Komatsu, what did I say —“ 
She turned to admonish the girl, but her reprimand dried instantly on her tongue. For there, in the entryway to the storeroom, was Komatsu, her eyes wide and her face bone-white with a terror that matched Y/N’s own.
Because the girl was not alone.
Wrapped around her bicep was a hand, as large as a small boulder, and tipped with long, wicked claws that threatened to pierce Komatsu’s bicep. The hand was attached to a forearm, inhumanly thick and muscled. Slowly, Y/N’s eyes dragged up the length of the monstrous arm to behold the sinister face that grinned at her. 
It was Susumo — only it wasn’t Susumo. Y/N recognized the vague features of the face that had once belonged to the village drunk and her personal tormentor. His hair was the same as was the general shape of his face, and the cruelty of his smirk, but that was where the resemblance to the Susumo she’d once known ended.
Now, he boasted a row of sharp fangs that distended nearly to his lower lip. And his eyes — no longer were they a cold, soulless black; now they were crimson red, and his pupils were cut into catlike slits.
Demon. A voice whispered in her mind. Demon.
“Enjoy my fires, Priestess?” Even Susumo’s voice had changed, forming a growl that matched his monstrous appearance. “I set them for you — I knew you would not be able to resist seeing such a spectacle.”
“Komatsu,” Y/N ignored him in favor of addressing the young girl, though her voice was unusually high though she fought to keep it as steady as possible. “Please go find Granny and help her with the honden.” 
The young trainee trembled but Susumo’s clawed hand only tightened around her arm. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, sweet Priestess,” the demon crooned. “You have something I want, you see.”
The slick, oily look in his eyes made his desire clear.
Y/N’s eyes darted quickly around the hut, finally falling on a series of coal pans stacked to the side of the room, only a few feet from where she stood, paralyzed. Her quick, cursory glance at the pans revealed iron that was slightly red, and she swore she could see the air around them distorted by the heat.
Hot; they were still hot.
The Miko looked back to where the demon continued to leer at her, ravenous. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I will go with you, Susumo.”
Komatsu looked between her and the demon in horror, but Y/N only kept her eyes locked with the demon’s. She edged closer to where the coal pans were still burning hot, eyes not daring to drop his as she drew closer to the demon and the younger trainee. He grinned, revealing cruelly sharp and bloodstained teeth, and his yellow eyes shone with a triumphant smugness, believing the Miko was surrendering to him at last. 
As she brushed past the pans, Y/N furtively reached out a hand and closed her fingers around one of the handles. “Komatsu,” the Miko kept her eyes carefully trained on the demon. “Run.”
Her hand seized around the coal pan and with every ounce of her strength, she swung it toward the demon. The hot iron of the pan slammed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop his hold on the younger girl. There was a struggle between the older shrine maiden and the demon, who fought to wrench the pan free from her fierce grip, but Y/N would not relent. 
“Run!” She shrieked at the girl again, and Komatsu darted away. Y/N’s fingers stretched to close around the tiny lever on the handle of the coal pan, and with a snarl of fury, she managed to latch around it, squeezing it with all her might. The lid of the pan opened and red-hot coals spilled forth over the demon’s head. Susumo howled in fury, and Y/N dropped the pan, letting it crack against his head as she shot past him, desperate to escape the tiny storeroom.
The faster she got into open air, the better chance she had of living. 
But a claw, sharp and deadly sunk into her bicep, and yanked her back. She could not help the small scream that tore from her throat as she felt his talons rip at her skin and the sleeve of her kosode was shredded into ribbons beneath his nails.
“Sister Y/N!” Komatsu’s tiny, terrified voice cried out from several feet ahead. 
The shrine maiden swallowed her building panic. “Go!”
The little girl hesitated again and Y/N knew she could not follow after her, not without risking her safety once again. With a defiant scream of rage, the shrine maiden tore her arm free of the demon’s razor-like claws, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat as she felt blood run down her arm, hot and thick. 
The demon grasped wildly at her but found only air. Thinking only of the safety of Komatsu and her fellow trainees, Y/N turned on her heel and ran for the trees, away from the chaos unfolding at the Shrine. 
And the demon, still snarling and panting and undoubtedly enraged, followed her into the forest.
Shit, shit, shit!
Y/N hurtled over a snarled root as she ran, her life dependent upon every stride as she fled the newly-demented Susumo.
In the back of her mind, the Miko knew her efforts were in vain; because for every inch she managed to gain, the angry demon at her heels seemed to gain a foot.
“You’ve denied me for far too long!” The monster’s voice growled behind her, far too close for comfort. “I will have you!”
Y/N palmed the small nichirin knife tucked safely within the deep pockets of her hakama pants, and wildly she wondered whether it was possible to decapitate a demon with such a small blade. Perhaps the Water Pillar should have left her a sword. After all, a sword could not really be that different from a broom, and she’d walloped her fair share of handsy drunkards and would-be thieves with the cleaning tool.
If she lived through the night, she would tell him as much the next time she saw him.
Y/N’s musings did nothing to help her avoid the root of an old tree that jutted out from the earth, snarling around her ankle and sending her flailing to the forest floor. Angry tears of frustration clouded her eyes. Although she knew these paths like the back of her hand, that knowledge did her little good in the dark, as she fled for her life.
Scrambling up to her feet, Y/N caught sight of a pair of eyes watching her from the brambles, dark and inky.
A crow. The image of a certain Hashira flashed before her eyes, as Y/N recalled the way that the members of the Demon Slayer Corps used crows to communicate.
Perhaps this crow was so affiliated, and she was desperate enough to try. “Please!” Y/N begged, sobbing as the crow stared down at her with those black eyes. “Giyuu!”
———
The night had been unusually peaceful for the Water Pillar.
His ambling patrol around his territory’s perimeter hadn’t revealed so much as a whisper of demonic activity. But the absence of any conspicuous threat did not mean his guard was down; his eyes remained sharp, his ear finely tuned, listening for any shift in the wind, any sign that something was amiss and required investigation —
A sudden rustle of leaves sounded from his right, and Giyuu’s hand moved reflexively for his blade, bracing against its hilt in preparation. A small shadow burst from the canopy above him, its wings flapping wildly. He recognized it instantly as the crow he’d assigned to watch over the Shrine — to watch over her.
“Demon attack at the Mountain Shrine!” The crow squawked, circling above him frantically. “Demon attack! Go now — quickly!” 
He hadn’t hesitated to turn sharply on his heel, furiously making his way toward the Shrine. He broke through the line of trees at its edge in record time, and even he’d been taken aback by the chaos that had broken out.
“The honden is on fire!” the old woman cried out to the Pillar as he swiftly landed among the chaos unfolding across the shrine grounds. “The girls were still doing their evening duties – but then another fire was started near the granary!” 
“My crows said a demon had made an appearance,” Giyuu’s eyes carefully scanned the terrified, frantic faces of the Shrine’s residents, his hands braced against the hilt of his sword. “Has anyone been hurt?” 
The head Priestess stared at the Water Pillar in muted horror. “I have not seen – but I haven’t taken any headcount of the girls to know –” 
A piercing cry from near the south gate of the Shrine cut the old woman off, and both Priestess and Slayer whipped toward the sound. A girl, no more than nine, was half-running, half-stumbling toward them, frightened tears streaking down her face. 
“Komatsu!” the old Priestess blanched as she caught sight of the small apprentice’s busted, bloodied lip. With a sob, the young girl flung herself into her elder’s arms and clung tightly to her. “What on earth –?” 
“Sister Y/N!” the girl called Komatsu wailed, and Giyuu felt himself go cold. “Granny – th-that man – he’s a monster!”
The head Priestess paled in recognition. “Susumo?” Giyuu’s gut clenched at the name. The old woman knelt before the girl, her hands clutching wildly at her slim shoulders as she shook her lightly to recenter her. “Komatsu, was Susumo the monster?” 
The young girl nodded. “He was so – hiccup – fast! I didn’t even see him!” She only cried harder. “And t-then Sister Y/N – she grabbed the coal pan and dumped it on him until he let go.” Komatsu trembled as she lifted a shaking hand to wipe at her cheeks. “A-and then she t-told me to r-run –” 
THe old Priestess caught the girl’s quivering chin in her hand and forced her to meet her eyes. “Where is Y/N, Komatsu?” 
Komatus’s eyes were wide with fear. “She ran,” she whispered. “Into the woods – b-but Granny – she was bleeding –” 
The Shrine’s Priestess turned to the Slayer, ready to beg him to follow after the demon and her apprentice, but the Water Pillar was gone. For a brief moment, she feared all hope was lost; that they’d been abandoned and non one would be able to save the young Miko – her heir – from whatever horrid fate awaited her at the ends of Susumo’s crazed, brutal claws.
She caught a flurry of movement right against the dark line of trees that snagged her attention; a flap of the edge of a mismatched haori, and the glint of a blade being drawn, its wielder already furiously making his way into the shadowy depths of the forest. 
The Priestess exhaled and clutched her trembling young trainee to her chest. As she soothed the shaken young girl, the old woman prayed the Water Pillar would not be too late.
She was fucked; well and truly fucked.
Y/N had no idea how long she’d spent sprinting furiously through the forest, but she knew she was quickly running out of stamina. Worse, it seemed the demon on her heels knew she was slowing, and was now playing with her. But even his patience seemed to be at its wit’s end; for a sudden sharp blow to her back sent the Miko flying several feet forward until she slammed against the uneven, rough terrain of the forest floor.
Y/N gasped for air that would not come as she tried to push herself up. Crawl! Her mind begged her body. Crawl, damn you!
A dark chuckle from behind sent every hair on her body standing straight on end. A hand locked around her ankle and flipped her over until she was nearly nose to nose with the demon crouched over her. “Got you,” he sang, and the moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of his fangs as he grinned. 
Her fingers found the handle of the knife the Water Pillar had gifted her in her pocket. With a determined grunt, she pulled it free and plunged it deep into the meat of his shoulder, praying furiously to any god who would listen that she might have hit an artery so that he would bleed out. 
The demon loosed an enraged scream and fell away from her, hands blindly fumbling for the blade.  
No longer pinned beneath him, Y/N  scrambled back. Her hands scraped against the broken brush and pebbles below her in her desperate attempt to put distance between herself and the demon rising to his feet ahead of her, snarling. As he began advancing toward her, Susumo gripped the knife she’d buried in his shoulder and with a grunt, he wrenched it free and tossed it carelessly to the side, right along with the last shred of any hope she’d had of making it out of the woods alive.
The demon’s mouth curled into a cruel, savage grin, the moonlight glinting off his long, wicked fangs. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled, saliva dripping down his chin as his nostrils widened to scent her blood and her fear. 
This was it; there was nowhere for her to run, no weapon she could try and protect herself with. There was nothing she could do; she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Just as Susumo drew upon her, close enough that she could smell the rancid, pungent odor of rotted meat on his breath, he stumbled back, startled. 
One moment the demon was standing mere inches from her, ready to devour her whole; the next, he was sent sailing back, his body smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thump! 
A blur of dark matter soared over the Miko’s head toward the monster. Susumo barely had time to stand before the shadow converged on him once more. There was a flash of light — the moon reflecting off metal — followed by a dull thud. The shrine maiden’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched the head of the former village drunkard roll across the forest floor before distingrating, his body following soon after. 
She was nearly hyperventilating as the shadow turned to face her, but the pall of the moon finally illuminated the face of her savior — her Water Pillar.
“G-Giyuu,” she stuttered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of relief that washed over her all at once.
But Giyuu did not respond, his lapis eyes narrowing in on the dark stain spreading across the white of her kosode. Y/N cowered at the cold, unbridled rage that contorted the ordinarily stoic Hashira’s face as he began to shake at the sight of her blood. In a flash, Giyuu had closed the distance between them and knelt down by her side, gripping her wounded arm in his hand as he tried to pull her tattered sleeve down and  inspect her wound.
“Tomioka — Giyuu,” she pled, trying to wrench her arm from his iron-like grip. “Please, it’s not that bad —“
“Did it get you anywhere else?” Giyuu demanded harshly, and the authority underlying his tone made Y/N fall silent for the first time since she’d known him. “Did it -“ the Water Pillar hesitated. “Did it touch you anywhere else?”
Y/N was trembling, and the Hashira’s hand around her arm tightened. “Ah!” She winced. “No, I promise, Giyuu, it’s just a flesh wound, I’m fine-,”
“You are bleeding. You are not fine.” Giyuu snapped back. “You could’ve been killed, or turned, or -,” the Water Pillar began to hyperventilate, and it shook the young Miko to her core. The Water Hashira was normally so unflappable, so stoic, that his panicked anger frightened her.
“-So do not tell me you’re fine,” Giyuu’s rant continued. “Not when you could’ve — not when I might’ve failed — not again --”
She was at a loss for what to do as she watched the raven-haired man struggle to form words. Vaguely, she recalled the way the Granny-Priestess had once explained to her that when someone panicked, they needed to regulate their breathing, and there were many ways someone could help force another to breathe properly…
Stomach fluttering, Y/N’s free hand came up to grip the fold of the Water Pillar’s haori. Giyuu’s incessant rambling only ended when her lips urgently pressed against his own, his eyes going wide. A heartbeat or two passed and then the Miko pulled away, her eyes serious as she stared at the stunned Water Hashira.
“You need to give me a sword.” She told him, earnestly, her face blazing.
———
Giyuu helped her back to the Shrine, though the Miko found herself needing to bat off the Water Pillar with a stern reminder that she’d only sustained a small arm wound as he’d tried to scoop her up into his arms.
The Swordsman had been rather subdued the entire journey out of the forest, his eyes curiously wide and dazed right until the pair breached the tree line at the edge of the Shrine’s property. The moment they stepped into open ground, they were swarmed by the tearful, relieved faces of the Shrine’s inhabitants. Words of gratitude to him were woven through worries over the Miko’s arm wound as they made their way across toward the small infirmary which, thankfully, had not been touched by Susumo’s fire.
The honden itself was still standing; though the flames had finally been subdued, smoke still curled up toward the sky, blocking any view of the moon or the stars. 
The head Priestess waited for them outside the infirmary. Though her face was grave, Giyuu could spy the relief shining in her eyes. He stood numbly by as the Miko and her master regarded each other warily for a moment, before the elder Priestess reached forward and yanked her charge forward into a fierce embrace.
“Reckless girl,” she chastised gently against the side of Y/N’s head. “Thank every one of the gods that you’re safe.” The old Priestess’s eyes found those of the Water Pillar. “And thank you, Lord Tomioka.”
Y/N was promptly escorted inside to have her wound examined and stitched. Despite the old shrine keeper’s gratitude for his aid in saving the young shrine maiden, that thankfulness apparently did not extend to permitting him inside the infirmary with them, and for good reason. For under the Elder’s withering glare, the Water Pillar realized that Y/N’s treatment would require her to be stripped of her kosode, leaving her exposed and bare. 
As unwilling as he’d been to part from her, the thought of witnessing the Miko undressed and vulnerable had been enough to temper his urge to look after her, if nothing else because the mental image of her in such a state flustered him to no end.
Though, he supposed his bewilderment also had something to do with what had transpired between them in the forest.
Kissed him; the shrine maiden had kissed him. 
His fingers drifted to his lips. They still felt warm where they’d been graced by hers, and he swore he could still feel the softness of her mouth from where it had brushed against his. 
He needed to talk to her; he needed to know what the hell she’d been thinking, kissing him like that. 
But as shocking as the Miko’s kiss had been, there was something else, something far heavier, that weighed on his mind. 
She’d nearly been killed. By a demon. On his watch. 
He should’ve apologized; he should’ve begged for her forgiveness for letting her come that close with death. For letting her get wounded because he hadn’t been fast enough.
I was concerned for you, he wanted to tell her. I thought I would be too late.
No; concern didn’t cover it; did not do near enough justice to his true emotions upon learning the Miko had fled into the dark forest with a hungry, loathsome demon hot on her trail.
He’d been scared; terrified; almost beside himself at the possibility that he’d be too late and find that she’d already been reduced to the beast’s meal, 
He’d been scared he’d never again see her smile or hear her laugh, and that had terrified him more than anything. For it was the memory of both that soothed his anxious nerves each time he startled awake from visions of his dead loved ones, demanding to know why they had died in his stead.   
He’d feared that he would have to add her face to those he saw when he slept — the faces of those he’d failed to protect, who’d died for his sake. He’d been terrified of seeing her image in painstaking clarity, just as he saw the faces of his sister and Sabito every morning. 
He did not know what to do with them, these confusing feelings, so abundant and intense that they’d welled up within him and threatened to spill over. He couldn’t name them, let alone begin to untangle the knot they’d formed within his heart. All he knew was that every one of them were inextricably tied to her. 
His shrine maiden. 
His.
Y/N’s arm ached, but it had been properly sewn and bandaged, and there was work to do before she could settle in for the night; and so, she found herself helping her peers with cleaning up the courtyard from the debris of the night’s events. 
Truthfully, she'd been grateful for the distraction. Occupying herself with cleanup meant she did not have to think about what she’d done in the forest. But then Granny Priestess saw her trying to heave away broken wood with her freshly stitched arm and Y/N found herself forced to abandon her fellow trainees as the old bat smacked her upside the head and squawked about how she was going to break her stitching and complicate the healing process.  
The Miko tried not to pout as she retreated, opting instead to grumble over the old woman’s dramatics as her arm stung and her ego throbbed. When she finally returned to her sleeping quarters, exhaustion slammed into her, making her limbs heavy and leaden. Unable to quite rally the energy to crawl into her futon, she slumped against the doorway of the room, her head and her heart a tangled mess of emotions she couldn’t quite name.
What she’d felt the moment the Water Pillar had stepped into the moonlight had been more than mere relief that he’d managed to save her life for the second time. She’d felt safe, so unbelievably safe that the forest itself could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have been afraid; not as long as he was there with her.
Something between them had shifted; that much was clear. In truth, things likely had begun to change the moment she repaired his haori, and she’d admitted to him her deep-seated loneliness and lack of belonging.
She only hoped he felt the change, too.
Much to Y/N’s chagrin, autumn was quickly giving way to blasted winter.
Though, the Miko hadn’t been able to fully resent the rapid shift in the seasons; repairs at the Shrine had consumed nearly all of her attention, and as Granny’s heir, she was expected to contribute to its reconstruction more than any other trainee.
That expectation meant Granny left the task of figuring out how to finance the necessary repairs entirely to her young protege. Y/N had spent all of two days agonizing over ways to raise the necessary funds when she awoke to find a mysterious sack of money that had been left on the doorstep of the honden. Inside had been an amount more than generous to cover the cost of repairs from the fire, with a hefty remainder that could be put toward other necessary improvements to spruce the Shrine up, and perhaps restore it to its former glory. 
No note had been left with the money to indicate the identity of the Shrine’s benefactor.  But amid all the excitement of her peers at the thought of being able to afford materials and laborers to assist with the more difficult aspects of the Shrine’s refurbishment, Y/N had spotted a familiar crow perched high in a nearby tree.
That position had afforded the bird with a perfect view of the money sack, allowing it to silently ensure it fell into the proper hands. But repairs had finally slowed, and Y/N now found her days returning to normal. Almost. 
What was not normal was how agitated she'd become in waiting for his return.
Another week passed without any communication from the Water Pillar, and the Miko had grown desperate for any sort of distraction. She found herself one late, autumn morning passing the time in the Shrine’s garden hut. She was pretending to be searching for tools that would help her prune the wilting Shrine garden when something grazed against the small of her back. Startled, she turned and was greeted by familiar, unruly raven hair and a pair of deep azure eyes. 
“Giyuu,” his name slid easily off her tongue, and suddenly she could not remember why she’d called him anything else. 
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “Hello, Y/N.”
A poignant silence followed, and her cheeks grew hot. "Don't mind me," she said quickly, turning her head away from him as she pretended to organize stray gardening supplies. "I am only just now finishing my tasks for the day."
Though he remained silent, she became acutely aware of the way Giyuu’s eyes followed her as she tried desperately to keep herself busy, to avoid having to meet that piercing, discerning stare. 
“I did not get a chance to properly thank you after the turmoil of that night,” she said casually. Nervously, she hoped that his heightened senses did not alert him to the way her heart fluttered in her chest, or how her stomach flipped in her gut. Her nails dug into her palms as she lifted her head to meet that unnerving, fathomless stare.
But the Water Pillar had already closed most of the distance between them, having moved so silently she’d not heard him, despite even the creaky, uneven slatted floor of the garden hut. “How is your wound?” He asked softly, his hand skirting up the outside of the arm Susumo had wounded. “Has it healed?” 
It took a great amount of effort for Y/N to remember how to keep her breathing steady. But she forced her lips into an easy smile as she rucked up the flared sleeve of her kosode to reveal her bicep. “It will likely scar,” she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing over the three, angry red marks that remained imprinted on her skin, though they’d fully scabbed over. “I consider myself quite lucky, all things considered.” 
“Why did you do it?” 
The Miko ducked her head, willing the sheet of her hair to fall and conceal her mounting blush. She did not need to ask him to clarify; she knew after what he was asking.
But she feigned ignorance all the same. “I don’t know what you mean, Tomioka-sama –” 
“Don’t call me that,” and even though she refused to meet his eyes, she could sense his irritation at her avoidance. “We’re well past such formalities, Y/N.” Giyuu stepped closer to her, his cerulean eyes melting into something more akin to the midnight blue of the evening sky. “You kissed me. That night.” The Water Pillar’s hand glided up the arm that Susumo had injured, caressing softly over the healed skin beneath the sleeve of her kosode.
“I-I did no such thing!” Y/N sputtered, though her reddening cheeks betrayed her. “I was only attempting to help you calm down — you were panicking, and inconsolable.” 
Giyuu’s responding smirk only served to irritate her more. “Should I thank you then, Y/N?” His hand slid from her shoulder to below her chin, his delicate fingers curling to tilt her head up towards his, as he closed the distance between their bodies. “Should I show you how grateful I am that you were able to assuage my worry?” 
Y/N tried to focus on anything but the feeling of Giyuu’s breath — warm and enticing — against her face as he leaned in close. “You had no reason to worry; I was completely fine before you showed up.” 
“Fine,” the ravenette scoffed, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. “So fine that you were bleeding and about to become that beast’s snack — or worse.” 
“But you saved me, did you not?” Y/N whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to the Water Pillar’s sensual, soft-looking mouth before rising once more to meet his punishing gaze. “And then I helped you.” 
Giyuu’s second hand brushed against her waist and the shrine maiden thought she might leap out of her skin. “You did,” he conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, half-smile. “Though I apologize that you needed to do so — I suppose I become a little over-zealous when things that are precious to me are threatened.” 
Even if she could have thought of some witty remark to throw back at him, those words surely would have been blocked by her heart as it lodged in her throat. 
Things that were precious to him. She was precious to him.
“So I’ll ask again, Y/N,” Giyuu whispered, and his nose brushed delicately against hers. “Should I thank you for your assistance?” The fingers beneath her chin stroked her jaw. “Should I kiss you?” 
She fought to suppress the excited shudder that licked up her spine. “Yes, Lord Hashira,” she breathed, and her stomach turned cartwheels as Giyuu’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Perhaps you should.” 
“Who am I to deny the request of a priestess?” Giyuu murmured, and then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. Y/N’s fingers flew to clutch the Water Pillar’s rocky biceps beneath the soft cloth of his haori, anchoring him against her. The hand that had gripped below her chin slid to the side of her face, tilting her head so that the Water Pillar could have better access to her as he pressed his lips harder against hers. 
Y/N moaned into his kiss, wanting him closer, impossibly closer to her than he currently was. 
Giyuu broke away from her once, though he kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place. “What are your duties today?” 
Y/N’s fingers curled around the front of the Water Pillar’s haori, her forehead resting against his. “None of import.” She gave him a sly smile. “No one will miss me if I am gone for a few hours.” 
Giyuu returned her smile with a tiny smirk of his own. “In that case,” he tugged her hand and he began to lead her towards the grassy overlook where they’d spent a great deal of time talking and learning one another. “I could use your assistance.”
Y/N hadn’t greeted the sunrise with the intent to neglect her shrine duties, but she couldn’t say she regretted how she ended up spending the day.
They spent the day resting on the hillside overlooking the shrine grounds, rolling back and forth upon the browning grass as they kissed each other again and again. 
“You weren’t wrong, that day — right after we met,” Giyuu gasped against her lips as they broke apart, the blush on Y/N’s cheeks a sure match to his own. “I do not find you captivating.”
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth parted, a protest on her tongue when Giyuu surged forward, his lips brushing against her neck. The Miko’s words choked off with a squeak as the Water Pillar danced his lips to the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out once right where her heart pulsed wildly. 
“I think you are utterly transfixing; enchanting,” he breathed against her skin. “You have cast a spell over me that I do not want broken.”
“I find it hard to believe anyone could wield that sort of power over a Hashira,” Y/N’s voice was high pitched as Giyuu’s lips made their way back to hers.
In the back of her mind, Y/N wondered if his words were motivated purely by his physical desire for her. It would not have surprised her if he was only so taken with her because he longed to be touched; held. Like him, she’d gone much of her life without intimacy from anyone. She could not blame him for seeking it from someone so willing to give as she. 
“But you are not just anyone, not to me.” was all he replied, his lips moving softly against hers once more. “You are…everything.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The Water Pillars words, dripping like honey from his lips, were only sweetened by the fervent sincerity of his eyes as he pulled back to gaze into hers, so deeply, she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.
She wondered if he lowered that piercing, discerning stare, whether he’d be able to see straight to her heart, too; see how it bore his name. 
Even though her breath guttered in her throat at his words, her heart clenched painfully in her chest. The idea that she’d attached more meaning to their relationship than he, that perhaps she’d overestimated her value to him made her tense, made her want to push him away and —
“You’re distracted,” Giyuu murmured against her lips, brushing his nose against hers. “Your thoughts are loud.” 
Her fingers caught the front fold of his haori, fiddling idly with it. “There is nothing for you to repay, you know. You do not owe me your time or your attention. I know the Shrine is simply a part of your designated patrol. I understand if its convenience is the only reason —” 
A single finger pressed itself against her lips, quieting her. “You think and talk too much.” The ravenette chastised. Her mouth parted, a protest forming on her lips, when he cut her off again. “Ah ah,” Giyuu silenced her with his lips, his tongue flicking out to skim along her bottom lip. Above her, he shifted and allowed his weight to fall against her, pinning her beneath him. Reluctantly, his mouth broke away from hers. “It is my turn to speak.” 
“I do not come to the Shrine because it is easy,” Giyuu’s lips brushed hesitantly against her jaw. “Nor do I come here out of any preconceived obligation to repay your kindness.” 
He pulled back to study her, panting and flushed beneath him. As his eyes slowly combed over her, Y/N felt a strange knot pull and twist in the depths of her stomach. “There is only one thing that brings me back here, no matter how exhausted I am after weeks of endless missions; no matter how often certain junior Corps members pester me to train them.” His eyes narrowed at the hollow of the Miko’s throat, exposed by the way her kosode had shifted as the pair of them rolled around the grass. Curious, Giyuu leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against it. 
And then he did the unthinkable;  the Water Pillar moaned, ever so softly, against the fluttering of Y/N’s frantic pulse. The sound, so rich and full of need – of want – washed over her and drowned out all other thoughts, all other higher reasoning from her mind. INstead, the Miko was left with nothing but the sharp urge to press her thighs together, an unknown heat beginning to pool in her most sacred area. 
“Do you know what that thing is, Y/N?” He whispered against the soft dip in her throat, his breath hot as it fanned across her skin. “Can you guess what it is I cannot stay away from – could not, even if I desired otherwise?” 
His fingers dropped to the collar of her kosode, tracing lightly over its crisp, white fold. “When I close my eyes in the mornings, it is your face I see,” he murmured. “It is your laugh I hear in my dreams; your scent I find myself longing for when I awaken.”
The Miko shivered as his index finger traced from her collar up her throat, over her chin until it came to rest on her bottom lip, gently stroking over its curve. “It is you I seek to turn to remind myself that there is still good in this world – good still worth protecting. Why is that, Y/N?” His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed almost earnest in his question. “Why is it that my mind refuses to be occupied by anything but you?” 
“Because I vex you,” she said softly, eyes wide and locked with his. “Because, try as you might, you’ve never been able to fully fit me into a box as you have with others.” 
Giyuu shook his head. “Vex me?” He tsked at her. “Perhaps once that was true. But now? I desire you in ways I can hardly understand, and it drives me mad.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “What are you saying?” 
“I think I’ve been rather clear,” and instinctively, Giyuu rolled his hips against hers, desperate to relieve some of the friction mounting in his groin. “And it’s that I want –” 
But the Miko did not get to hear what Giyuu wanted; not as he was drowned out by the screeching cry of a bird from high above. Only, this bird was not the dull, graying crow she’d come to associate with her Swordsman.
“I thought your crow was older?”
The Water Pillar frowned as he turned to look up, his eyebrows drawn together. “That’s not Kanzaburo — that’s one of the Master’s —“
“CAW,” the bird circled above their heads in narrow, rapid turns. “Lord Tomioka! Return to headquarters immediately!”
Giyuu’s jaw clenched. “Can it not wait?” 
Y/N, however, only gaped up at the bird flying above them. “It talks —?” 
But the crow only cried again, “Emergency meeting at headquarters!!
With a short, frustrated exhale, Giyuu rolled to the side of the Miko and rose, but not before he extended a hand and helped lift her to her feet.
He gingerly brushed some loose grass from her hair. “I’m sorry.” 
She only shook her head as she reached to adjust his haori, righting it in his shoulders. “It’s your duty, Giyuu. I understand that.”
He scowled back up at the bird still circling above them, bleating a refrain of “Emergency! Go now!”
“I’m not finished with this conversation,” Giyuu said plainly, a frustrated hand working through his hair. Though his annoyance was plain as day, it fell away as he looked back to the Miko at his side, his gaze softening. “Nor am I finished with you.” 
A single finger reached under Y/N’s chin and lifted her head toward him so he could brush another kiss against her lips. “I will come see you – soon.” 
With a shy boldness, the Miko rose on her toes and gave him one final kiss, and Giyuu’s hand tightened where it rested against her waist. “I’ll wait for you, Lord Hashira.”
———
December, 1915
Y/N cursed at the ancient priestess who insisted on using only gas-powered lanterns rather than the newer, much safer, electric powered lights that other shrines had begun using. 
“We are an esteemed shrine dating back hundreds of years,” the old crone had simpered, “Tradition has kept us going this far!” 
Y/N hadn’t helped her cause by asking whether tradition or spite was what kept the hag from dying off and finally leaving her in peace.
And that was how the young Priestess-to-be found herself stomping through the snowy grounds of the Shrine, forced to light each and every lantern by hand using a match and oil, utterly by herself.
She knew better than to levy such an obvious taunt at the old woman, but admittedly, Y/N hadn’t been in the best of moods as of late. 
Giyuu had not returned since that day on the hillside, when he’d kissed her silly and told her he could not stop thinking of her. It was as though he no longer existed; even the crows at the Shrine were no more, having all disappeared one morning before she’d awoken.
As the weeks passed, the weight of his absence had grown heavier, threatening to beat her into the ground below. 
But Y/N had done her best to hold her tongue over the last weeks as her anxiety mounted, and Granny should’ve known that — so really, it was her own fault if she’d taken offense to the Miko’s barb.
She grumbled and cursed under her breath as she trudged toward the small garden hut standing at the furthest edge of the Shrine’s grounds — her last stop of the night. She shoved past the old, rickety door and braced her merrily flickering, hand-held lantern out before her, bathing the small hut in a warm, orange glow.
All was silent and quiet within the small storeroom. The air was cold, though the slatted walls of the hut offered some protection from the howling, snow-dotted winds outside. Determined to complete her task and return to the comfort of her warm futon, the Miko fumbled around one of the store shelves for a small can of oil. 
“It’s you,” a quiet voice startled her from behind, and Y/N nearly dropped the lantern clutched in her hands.
But she did not feel afraid as she recognized the calm, soothing cadence of the voice, that voice that belonged to the one person capable of making her blush. 
The one person who held her heart.
“It’s been a while, Giyuu. I was wondering when I’d see you again.” She turned and saw the raven-haired man standing in the doorway of the garden hut, his face characteristically neutral, though he seemed tense, even more so than usual.
Instantly, she moved toward him. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes tightened, and the darkness which swam within them betrayed his aloof facade. “Things have changed quickly in my world,” he began, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. “We believe the demons are preparing for war — and so we have been as well. 
“War?” She repeated softly, her step faltering. “I hadn’t realized the demons were so…organized.”
Giyuu nodded. “One creature is responsible for all demons. He is the orchestrator; he is the one we must kill, and we believe the opportunity to do so is drawing nearer.”
The monotonous cadence of his voice fell away as he quietly added, “That is why I haven’t been able to return — we’ve been training. This battle — it may start at any moment.”
He made like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a tight line. 
“And?” She prompted gently, taking a solitary step toward him.
“He hesitated, and she spied how his throat worked to swallow. “And I do not know when I will be able to see you again. After tonight.”
Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his. “When you say you don’t know ‘when’ we will see each other again,” she began, cautiously. “Do you mean ‘if?’”
Giyuu’s answering silence said more than any words could. 
For a moment, the Miko could not remember how to speak, not as she felt the organ in her chest splinter into a thousand, mismatched pieces.
“I just wanted to see you,” the Water Pillar struggled to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. “One last time.” 
She could scarcely breathe. 
He was leaving and he might never return. 
Leaving to go try and put an end to the scourge of demons that plagued their world. It was a noble thing to do; sacrifice in its purest form. 
But she hated it. 
She was filled with such a deep melancholy that it nearly brought her to her knees. As the Water Pillar turned to leave, Y/N couldn’t stop herself as she reached for him, her arms encircling him as her hands locked over his front, stilling him.
“Giyuu,” she said thickly, her face pressed into the back of his haori as she willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. “Giyuu.” 
He turned in her grasp and looked down at her in awe, a finger rising to brush the errant tear that had escaped down her cheek as he held her gaze. 
The flame within her lantern flickered as Giyuu softly grazed his lips against her own, Y/N’s arms weaving around his neck to hold him close to her. 
His hands were gentle, if not a little uncertain as they found her waist, but once they came to a rest against her, he pulled her close, arms winding around her middle and holding her securely against him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as she opened up for him, his tongue gliding alongside her own until she was left breathless and wanting. 
Vaguely, the Miko was aware that he was walking them deeper into the garden hut, allowing the old door to thud shut behind him, and the thought of not returning to her plush futon suddenly did not seem like such a loss. 
Giyuu’s hands returned to her face, thumbs stroking softly along her cheeks as he broke their kiss to brush his lips against her eyes, her nose, and forehead. Y/N’s hands parted the Water Hashira’s haori from his shoulders as Giyuu’s fingers dropped to her collar bone, sliding beneath her kosode, and grazing her bare shoulder. 
“You have been my most treasured encounter,” he whispered, and she felt her heart seize in her throat, tears threatening to spill anew from her eyes.
A year’s worth of interactions had all led to this moment, but it was not the satisfying payoff of the tension and longing that had been steadily building between them.
This was a goodbye. 
Because it was likely that the Water Pillar would not survive the impending battle; but neither did he want to leave this end untied. 
She had known, deep in her heart, that this affair had been doomed before it had ever begun, but that hadn’t stopped her from falling for the kind, brave, selfless man now kissing her like she was his entire world anyways. 
She would not get to have him in the morning, so she resolved to give herself to him for the night. 
Giyuu’s hands eased her kosode from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air within the garden hut. His warm hands, however, worked to chase away any chill that spread across her skin as he ran his palms over the curve of her shoulders before sliding down to rest on her bare waist, his long fingers grazing just below the curve of her breasts.
Her own fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on his uniform shirt but in time, she’d worked them open and Giyuu broke their kiss long enough to let his shirt drop to the floor beneath them. 
The two stood there for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, as they looked at one another, half-nude and vulnerable. The shrine maiden and the slayer knew that they had come upon a precipice, and if they stepped off that ledge, there would be nothing to break their fall. 
Y/N made the first move, taking a tentative step towards the Water Pillar as she trailed her fingers lightly up the beautiful, sculpted ridges of his abdomen, relishing how warm he was beneath her touch. 
Giyuu shivered beneath her fingertips as the miko’s hand came to a rest against his sternum, marveling the way his heart thundered beneath her hand. “Are you certain?” He breathed, his face was impassive, but his own uncertainty was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. His hand rose to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip. 
She reached to grab the Pillar’s free hand and brought it up to rest against her sternum, mirroring her own hold on him so that he could feel the steady drum of her own heart — and how it thrummed for him. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Giyuu.” 
Once, she had believed the Hashira incapable of expressing anything other than cold aloofness. she’d not been able to comprehend the subtle ways with which his eyes could signal his mood; how they darkened when angry, or how the outer corners turned up, almost imperceptibly, when he was content. 
But she had long since learned to read him, and so, her stomach fluttered at the way the raven haired man’s gaze heated with both adoration and desire — for her. 
Giyu brushed his nose against hers affectionately before bringing their lips together once more, his kiss growing fervent as her hands slid up to tangle in his ebony hair. Y/N gasped into his mouth as she felt Giyu bend down, his hands gripping firmly under her thighs as he lifted her up, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist. Her lips parted, and Giyuu’s tongue slid seamlessly into her mouth.
Her lover locked one steely arm firmly around her lower back to support her as Y/N felt him lower them to the floor to lay her down, the Water Pillar’s free hand coming to brace against the back of her skull, to protect her head from thudding back against the wooden slats of the hut floor. The Miko steadied herself, prepared for the cold bite of the dirty hut floor to nip at the bare skin of her back, but she was only settled against something warm and soft; something that smelled distinctively of the Slayer panting above her. 
Her fingers dropped to her side and grazed against the familiar fabric of Giyuu’s haori; his most prized and cherished possession, spread out beneath her to protect her from the cold ground,  a makeshift bed against which she would let him take her and make her his.
He withdrew his lips from hers to sit back, his cerulean eyes tracing over every inch of her, from the way her dark hair spread out in a soft halo around her, to the blush staining her cheeks. His eyes darkened as they lowered to her bare chest, at the way it rose and fell jerkily as Y/N struggled to control her breathing. 
Giyuu’s long, slim fingers reached out to trace along the top of her scarlet hakama pants, his finger tips just grazing along her ribs and the underside of her breasts. 
“I’d never known such -,” He covered his struggle for words by pressing a sweet kiss against the hollow of her throat, a soft gasp escaping the Miko at the unfamiliar sensation. “Such beauty,” Giyuu’s lips trailed down to skirt across the ridge of her collar bone. “Not until I met you.” 
His face was against her sternum, pressing kisses as he trailed his lips down her skin. “I am sorry I could not give you more time.” His voice was soft, softer than even she had ever known. Before she could respond, Giyuu’s mouth hesitantly brushed against the stiffened peak of her breast, and Y/N’s mouth fell open with a soft cry. 
Azure eyes flashed up to meet hers. “Is this — is this okay?” 
The Miko's eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, unable to trust that she could hold her voice steady if she spoke. Her fingers weaved their way through the Pillar’s thick, raven locks, and she grazed her nails against his scalp in encouragement. 
Giyuu grunted softly at her touch, and he leaned forward to suck more of her soft mound into his hot mouth, teeth grazing lightly against her nipple as he explored her. 
“Oh,” she moaned, her thighs inadvertently pressing together as Giyuu’s tongue and lips worshipped her bared flesh, licking and sucking and nipping at her in his devotion. 
“Beautiful,” he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. “So very beautiful.” 
He repeated the movement again and again before he traced his mouth across her sternum and began lavishing her other breast with the same fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair as she mewled for him, enamored with the feeling of his hot mouth latched around her. He gave her more and yet it was not enough; every pass of his tongue over her stiffened peak only amplified the ache between her legs, only made the emptiness she felt more pronounced.
A breathy, whining and needy moan blew past her lips in time with a reflexive buck of her hips against his.  
The ravenette pulled off her breast with a start, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed as he gazed down at her in awe. “Do that again.”
“W-what —?” She pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her chest heaving.
“Tell me what to do,” Giyuu’s breath was ragged though his fingers continued trailing down her sides, seeking out the ties securing her bottoms around her waist. “Tell me how I might help you make that sound again.” 
“I –” Y/N squirmed beneath the intensity of his gaze, her thighs rubbing together to stifle some of the electricity she felt between her legs. “I want you to – I need you closer.” 
Her eyes drifted to the bulge that had formed between the Hashira’s thighs, and she felt her heart skip in her chest.
Giyuu pressed his groin against hers and ground. She gasped at the spark of pleasured friction the movement stoked between her thighs, and her eyes flew to meet his, only to see they were as wide as hers. 
And just as hungry. 
Her hand gently cupped his face. “Closer. Please.” 
He pressed his cheek into her palm and with a soft groan, his fingers quickly loosened the fastenings of her bottoms and then he was pushing them down her hips and over her legs, discarding them carelessly to the side. Giyuu sat back on his knees and let his eyes roam her, now fully bare and laid out beneath him. 
When his appraisal of her finally reached the thatch of curls between her thighs, the Water Pillar loosed a shaky breath. She had half a mind to cross her legs, to conceal the most intimate part of her body from the raging fire of his gaze as he studied her, but she forced herself to remain relaxed; open.
One, broad and calloused hand stretched tentatively out to run along the outside of her hip and down her leg, before smoothing back up in the inside of her thigh. His eyes flicked once to hers, and then he leaned forward and brushed delicate kisses down her abdomen, over her hip and along her thigh. He continued his descent as he slowly pushed himself back from her, and once he imparted one last, sweet press of his lips against her ankle, he rose. 
The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows along the alabaster of his skin, further accentuating how the muscles of his torso and abdomen flexed and shifted as he worked to free himself of the remainder of his clothes. His eyes did not leave hers, not even as his hands found the buckle of his belt and tugged it loose, and Y/N found herself free falling into their depths.
The ravenette dropped his belt to the floor, and then his fingers were at the waistband of his trousers, pulling and fiddling with their fastening. At last, Giyuu freed his lower half from the confines of his uniform pants and stepped out from the puddle they made at his feet. 
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his beautiful form, so lean yet solid and muscular. Her cheeks burned with a renewed blush as her gaze followed the small, dark trail of hair beginning just below his navel, and down between his hips, where the evidence of his desire stood proud. 
Her throat went dry. He was large — the flared head of his tip nearly grazed his navel, and his width was a little more than two of her fingers. Her thighs clamped together nervously, as she pondered how on earth she’d be able to accommodate him.
Giyuu noticed her hesitation, and a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. “I have never -“
The shrine maiden shook her head. “Nor I,” she whispered, though the knowledge that this was as new to him as it was to her helped ease the clench in her stomach. For all her nervousness, the Miko could not ignore the heat and longing which burned within her as she lifted her eyes back to his. She found her muscles softening as she saw the same fire within those cyan pools she’d come to love. Y/N laid back against the floor — against the comforting soft of his haori, and let body relax, her legs falling open to him. 
She held her hand out to him, beckoning, “Come back to me, Giyuu.” 
The ravenette did not hesitate as he returned to her, covering her body with his own as he pulled her in for a heated kiss, the weight of his hardened length resting heavily against her hip as he settled between the cradle of her thighs.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling her hips against him, desperate to feel closer to the man who had claimed her heart before she’d realized anyone was capable of holding it.  
Giyuu groaned, softly, against her as she repeated the movement, breaking their kiss to look down at the flushed Miko threatening to drive him wild with her silken touch. As much as he was desperate to feel her — every part of her — he knew what they were about to do would not be nearly as pleasurable for her as it would be for him. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” the Water Pillar’s eyes were stormy, a tempest of competing desire and pain at the idea of causing her even the slightest discomfort raging within him. 
Y/N brushed her lips against his once before trailing along his jaw, pausing only to suck softly as the soft spot beneath his ear. “I am only ever undone by you; never hurt.” 
He moaned softly, lowering his head back down to reclaim her mouth firmly with his own, his lips beseeching her to let him consume her. 
She was only too happy to do so, parting her mouth so that his tongue could slide in and dance languidly with hers, as he reached between them, gripping hold of his aching length and positioning himself at her entrance. 
The first brush of his hot, velvety tip against her folds broke their kiss, both gasping at the new yet intoxicating feel of the other’s most intimate area. 
Giyuu braced his free arm by her head, his fingers stretching to run comfortingly through her hair, as he pressed his forehead against hers. “If it becomes too much, just tell me, and we can stop.” His voice shook ever so slightly as he waited for her signal, the ache in his groin becoming nearly painful. 
The Miko grazed her lips against his throat. “Don’t stop.” She murmured. She hitched her legs higher up on his hips, angling herself so the trembling man above her would have better access to her. 
Slowly, so very slowly, the tip of Giyuu’s length began to push into her, and Y/N felt herself temporarily forget how to breathe. Above her, Giyuu’s eyes squeezed shut in a concerted effort not to sheathe himself within her in one stroke. 
“Y/N,” Giyuu panted, unable to stop the shaky moan that fell from his lips as he sunk into her warm heat that wrapped tight, so impossibly tight around him.
The shrine maiden winced at the unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by the Pillar. She felt as though she was a wave, crashing and breaking and parting around a rocky shore with every inch gained by the press of his hips against hers. 
Giyuu hardly had a quarter of himself seated within her when he felt his head brush against a thin barrier. His eyes opened to look down at the Miko, panting beneath him, her eyebrows pinched in slight discomfort. When she noticed he’d stopped, she peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her cheeks flushed. 
The hand Giyuu had held at his base to help guide himself within her lifted to grip her hip, her legs relaxing as his fingers massaging soothing circles into her flesh. Giyuu removed his forehead from its resting place against hers and he buried his face into the side of her neck as he pressed his body flush against hers. The hand he’d used to brace himself found hers, and he lifted to rest above her head, his fingers twining tightly with her own. 
“I’m okay,” she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss against the shell of his ear. Giyuu nearly shuddered at her words, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock finally breaching that thin, inner barrier to the rest of her welcoming heat. 
Y/N cried out at the bright spark of pain that flared through her as Giyuu claimed her as his own, but the Pillar held her steady, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck. 
A hitched gasp blew past Giyuu’s lips as he became fully seated within her heat, her core gripping him like a vice. He panted against the sweat-dampened skin of her neck as they both adjusted to the sensation, her nails digging harshly into the skin of his back as she waited for the discomfort to subside. 
Giyuu pulled his face back to look down at her, the hand he’d had on her hip rising to cup her face as he brushed his lips across her cheeks and eyes. 
“My beloved, are you all right?” His breath came hard and fast as he panted, the growing friction between where they were connected becoming hotter, more demanding the longer he remained still. 
Y/N’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, he felt her relax as he kissed her, slow and gentle. 
Her lips broke from his and she nodded, shakily. “You can move — just hold me. Please.” 
Giyuu let his full weight fall against her as he wound an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand tilting her face up so he could kiss her fiercely, eager to show her what she meant to him when his words otherwise failed to do so. As she opened up to him, tongue flicking out shyly along his lip, Giyuu rolled his hips experimentally against hers. 
Both the shrine maiden and the Pillar cried out in unison as Giyuu’s movement stoked an intense pleasure where they were joined.
It was like a spark of flame had ignited between her legs before shooting up to her belly, making her insides clench and pulse. 
It was addicting, and, judging by the way the raven haired swordsman above her hissed, he’d felt that jolt of electrifying pleasure, too.
“Oh,” Giyuu moaned as he began to move atop her, his cock sliding in and out of her heat as he worked to set a pace. “You feel – this is –” his stutters broke off  into ragged pants that melted into broken moans with every movement as he found his rhythm.
The grip he had on her hand tightened as he pulled back from her neck in favor of watching her body jolt and bounce with each of his thrusts. 
His head dropped down to study how his length, now coated in something shiny, appeared with every long draw of his hips out before disappearing back into her warmth. 
He threw his head back. “Heaven,” the Water Pillar groaned out, a tendon throbbing in his neck as another cracked moan slipped free from his throat. “You are heaven.” 
Shallow thrusts turned deeper, more purposeful, as the Water Pillar settled into his tempo. Each push of his hips opened her up more, bit by bit, until Y/N’s limbs liquified and she was left moaning and whimpering in time with his movements.
One particular thrust made her cry out, caused her legs to reflexively tighten around Giyuu’s hips as something hot flared deep within her stomach. 
“M-more,” she managed, her voice tapering off with a squeak. She needed to feel that spark again, wanted to feel that jolt of electricity that made her stomach clench. “P-please — ah!— Giyuu —“ 
With something between a moan and a growl, Giyuu  angled himself to thrust deeper, his weight pushing her hips back from the floor. Her legs were forced to hike higher up his waist, her ankles locking instead against the dip in his spine rather than his backside. 
The new angle meant that Giyuu was able to hit at a spot that sent a bolt of lightening between her legs, and she could feel herself tighten around him. 
The combination of her walls fluttering and pulsing around him and the strange fullness she felt was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She did not think she could stand to feel empty again; to not feel him consuming every inch of her.
Gradually, the small garden hut was filled by the sounds of their pants and moans, weaving together to form the melody of a song meant only for them.
Giyuu began thrusting harder, and soon, a dull clap of skin began to reverberate off the hut’s slatted wood walls, adding a steady beat to the rhythm of their pleasure. Though the air inside the hut had been nearly as frigid as what lay beyond its door, both the Miko and the Slayer found themselves coated in a thin sheen of sweat that made their skin glisten in the faint, orange glow of her lantern.
Above her, the Water Pillar was as lost in his pleasure as she. Guided purely by instinct, Y/N arched her lower back away from the floor until her breasts were flush against his sternum, desperate to feel that jolting spark between her legs. 
She felt the walls her of her core clench tighter around Giyuu’s length with her movement, and he answered her with a deep growl as his arm cinched tighter around her waist.
Deep; he was so deep within her, that she wondered whether he might reach her soul before they had to part.
Giyuu’s thrusts quickened, the base of his groin grinding against that sensitive spot between her thighs that had her wanting more as she moaned, her thighs squeezing the Hashira’s hips.
His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut as the most beautiful sounds of pleasure Y/N had ever heard poured from Giyuu’s mouth.
“I — fuck.” He growled as one arm tightened around her waist to the point of pain, the other grabbing her hand to bring it to his lips in a futile attempt to stifle the sounds lilting from him like song. 
His name fell from her lips like a hallowed oath and Y/N’s legs fell to the side, allowing Giyuu to chase the crescent of his release, as hips pistoned into her with wild abandon. 
“Y-Y/N,” her black-haired beauty of a lover grit through clenched teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “My treasure, I-I’m gonna-“ 
The Water Pillar buried his face into the side of her neck, cradling his groans into her throat, and Y/N could feel his length twitch within her.
As Giyuu’s hips slammed into her one final time, so to did the realization that she loved this; she wanted always to be this close to him, wanted always to be unable to tell where she ended and he began.
She loved him. 
But the bitter truth was that she’d never again get to hold Giyuu the way she was right then, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she felt something warm gush through her, a pleasured groan, so beautiful and husky tumbling from the Hashira’s lips as he pressed a sweet kiss against her collarbone. 
She would not get to love him past this most sacred rite. 
If she were honest, she’d likely never again experience this intimacy with anyone, for as long as she lived — for how could anyone else ever possibly compare? 
She supposed she’d been doomed to never hold onto the people who were meant to love her since the day she was born. She should’ve known better.
But as the roll of Giyuu’s hips into her heat slowed, and his labored breaths eased, Y/N could not find it within herself to regret it; to regret him. 
Because, fool though she was, she loved him. 
Giyuu collapsed against her, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he came down from his high, still buried inside her as the two panted. 
Her hands moved of their own accord to card through his raven hair, fingertips massaging his scalp as his breathing slowed, his breath adding further moisture to the already sweat-dampened skin of her neck. 
She wished they could remain like that always; that the dawn creeping over the horizon would not herald forth the sun, and they could stay on the floor of the garden hut forever, wrapped in one another’s embrace. She desperately wanted to memorize the tempo of his heart as it beat steadily against his chest, the vibrations of which she felt against her ribs. Such a beautiful melody, it was, and yet it filled her with such despair to know she might never again hear its sweet song; that it might cease playing forever, the moment Giyuu resumed being the Water Pillar once more, and walked through the shrine gates for the last time. 
But Y/N had never had anyone she could call her own, and as much as she loved the man nuzzling her neck as he whispered sweet nothings against her skin, he’d never been hers to keep. 
“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” Giyuu murmured, kissing his way up her throat to her lips. “Are you alright?” 
She held his lips for a moment before breaking away, letting her eyes roam his face, and she nodded. “Are you?” 
To her utter surprise, the Water Pillar chuckled softly, his laugh breathy and his smile heartbreakingly beautiful. “Yes, my treasure. I am more than alright.” 
He brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “After all, I am with you.”
———-
He’d brought her against his chest and they’d laid there together, simply staring at one another, trading soft kisses as Giyuu traced a finger over every feature of her face at least twice. 
If he was to die, he knew his last thoughts would be of her, and he wanted to be sure he’d committed every last detail of her face to memory.
Soon, far too soon, the deep indigo of the night sky was broken by the first, watery rays of morning light, and both the Miko and the Slayer knew their time was up.
The lovers dressed quickly, their backs to one another as both steeled themselves for the goodbye they could no longer avoid. 
And now, that time had come. Though it was Giyuu who walked to his likely doom, Y/N felt as if she was embarking on her own death march as the pair drew near the towering Shrine gate. Perhaps she was; after all, he would be taking her heart with him, and she was unlikely to get it back.
Y/N did not know whether to lean in and kiss him, one last time, or whether such a display of affection would only scratch at the gaping, open wounds they now bore on their chests, where their hearts had been. 
Giyuu, apparently, did not know what to do either, so the two only stood there beneath the Torii, eyes swimming with emotions neither could bear to voice. 
There was a beat, and then the two moved toward one another, drawn together like magnets as they locked themselves in a tight embrace. Giyuu’s hand cupped the back of her skull as Y/N pressed her face hard into his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him rooted to her — to life, safe and away from demons. 
But he couldn’t stay; she knew that. And so, with a deep inhale in a desperate attempt to memorize that mahogany and citrus scent of his she so adored, Y/N pulled away. She made to step back from him entirely, to put distance between them, but those warm fingers caught her under her chin, tilting her head up to face him before his hand slid to cup her cheek. 
The emotion swimming in the azure depths of his irises threatened to chisel away at the lock she kept on her own. Tears burned in her eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not make this harder for herself — for him — than it already was. 
“If you do not hear from me, leave the mountain. Go to the city, and do not go out at night. Keep your dagger and wisteria on you at all times, even when you sleep,” Giyuu’s eyes were serious, the hand on her face holding her in place. “Live, Y/N. Grow to be an old woman. Die only from age.”
The shrine maiden closed her eyes as she willed herself not to cry. “And if you win?” 
Giyuu hesitated for a moment and Y/N knew better than to ask him to make a promise he could not keep. 
“Send a crow, if you can.” She whispered, feigning a small smile. “It would be nice to not be afraid to go and gather night-blooming herbs.”
The Water Pillar nodded, his hand smoothing through her hair one last time as his lips pressed against her forehead. “Thank you, Y/N.” 
She didn’t need to ask what for.
She hoped she’d never forget the way he said her name; the longing and the breathless passion that dripped from every syllable, and the way it sent shivers down her spine. 
Giyuu broke away from her and set off towards the east. Y/N watched until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, before he disappeared entirely. 
He did not look back. 
————————
He hadn’t trusted himself to look back at her, though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to turn around and behold her beauty one last time. But the Shrine Maiden had become his largest weakness, and Giyuu knew if he’d looked back, he would never make it back to his estate; to the Corps. 
And if you win? She’d asked him, and he hadn’t been able to form the words of the answer he’d so desperately wanted to give her.
Because while Giyuu Tomioka never made promises he couldn’t keep, that did not mean he didn’t hope. Right then, more than anything, his greatest desire was to win this war; win it, and come back and tell Y/N that she no longer needed to fear the night. 
In any other life — if Giyuu had been any other man — there would be no question as to who he’d choose to spend the rest of his days with. 
And so, Giyuu thought as he forced himself to march forward, his eyes burning, if he made it out of this war alive, he would go back to the Shrine and tell Y/N of their victory himself.
And perhaps she’d then allow him to make her his wife.
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Keep an eye out for Part II to see if Giyuu comes back and makes good on his promise!
COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ALWAYS APPRECIATED!
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kleftiko · 7 months
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a type ??? no . . . don’t think i have one . . .
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muzanswaifu · 11 months
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Fated Pair
Alpha! Tomioka x Omega! Fem! Reader
18+
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Your entire life, you lived as a beta, not having to worry about such tedious things like glands, heats, and instincts. But that all changed when a certain slayer came to town, altering everything as you knew it. It seemed fate had finally brought you together.
Since fated pair won my omegaverse poll, here ya go 👀 Might make a second part in the future just to clarify some things in their relationship...
Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @astrasolitaris !!!
Warnings: Omegaverse, Smut, Yandere Tendencies, Dub-con, Rut, Heat, Kidnapping, Scenting, Mating Bites, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Face Riding, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Rough Sex, Creampie, Knotting, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Impregnation, Dirty Talk, Praise
5k Words
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“Go get more water… towels too!”
“Guard the entrance to the block as well - make sure no one comes through-”
“Close the door!”
You could still hear the commotion outside, your family scrambling with commands and precautions like busy bees in a hive. Although if you were in their place, you supposed you would be too.
This was all your fault. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. Why did it all have to change?
You were a beta. You were supposed to be a beta. In your family lineage for as long as anyone could remember, everyone either grew to be a beta or an alpha, and even the ladder was quite rare. Your siblings and yourself were always warned to keep your distance from omegas. They were needy, weak, and always brought trouble along with them. Even your father, who was an alpha, biologically programmed to desire an omega, despised them, citing them as nothing but lustful rodents who relied on others to care for them.
At the time, you neither held resentment nor admiration for the secondary gender. If anything, you were grateful. Even when your age of puberty came, you hadn’t needed to deal with the struggles of a heat or rut or anything of the matter. You were simply normal, experiencing the usual growing pains and figure development. You hadn’t worried when your cycle never came, plenty of people blossomed later in life. Life was easier, nobody shamed you, you fit in with the general population, too well. You never could bring yourself to date or fuss over anyone. It wasn’t that you didn’t have crushes, you did, but they never seemed worth any hassle. You couldn’t imagine a future with anyone, nor did you hold any attraction except superficial. They weren’t the one.
But that all seemed to change overnight, your world quite literally flipping over the next morning as a strange feeling overcame you. Your parents warned you all that morning to be careful as there were reports of a monster near the village, so you assumed the feeling of uneasiness was a result of your body’s natural apprehension. But you fell terribly ill within a few hours, hellish cramps overcoming your body and bile spilling out of you to no end. Mother chalked it up to some surge of influenza and the others joined her theory, and you kept your own thoughts to yourself. You’d still never admitted that you’d never gotten your period, and now seemed too late as you’d become an adult already. It was far too late to worry them.
Thankfully the illness had come and gone within a few days, leaving as quickly as it had come. But just when you’d given in to the assumption that it was just a sickness, it’d returned again, far stronger and more potent. You couldn’t even walk then, your body in so much pain that you couldn’t stop throwing up and trembling. You’d genuinely thought you’d been dying, but, yet again, it left you after only a few days. As did the company that had returned to the village. You family was becoming concerned, and you felt far too afraid to admit to them of your fears. Moreover, you didn’t want to speak them into existence.
The third bout of sickness was when a doctor was called in, the worst of your suspicions confirmed. You were an omega, later developed, but developed nonetheless. You worried Father wouldn’t speak to you ever again when he disappeared for several weeks, not a whisper of where he was going, until he’d returned late one night with the reason for his departure - the strongest heat suppressant available in the country. You took it without a second thought, uncaring of the symptoms as you prayed they would free you from this curse of misery. And it seemed to work for some time. You weren’t plagued with crippling pains and aches, you didn't have as many thoughts of depression and anxiety. You thought you were cured.
But it was only a temporary reprieve.
As only weeks later you were burdened yet again with an explosion of suffering, the worst one yet. You spent most hours weeping and crying, begging the gods to let you experience even a moment of peace. Your father seemed to change strategies as he instructed your siblings to go into town and fetch articles of clothing to bring back to you, to find the source of these forcefully induced dry heats. One by one you smelled them, scrunching your nose and cringing at all of them. They smelt disgusting, horrid enough to make you spit up all over again. It’d gotten to the point where you’d sob in Father’s arms and beg him not to make you smell another one, begging for his forgiveness for ruining everything. He just held you tight and pushed another piece of cloth to your nose, asking you if this was the one. You threw up again.
Finally, your youngest brother stumbled in one evening, the color drained from his face and his eyes wide. You wept when you saw him, another test clutched in his quivering fist, knuckles whitening. Slowly he handed it to you, a hand to your neck to force you to take it in. With tears in your eyes you did so, preparing to gag, but the feeling never came.
With a single breath your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, drool collecting on your tongue and threatening to drip down your lip. It smelt magnificent. A delicious combination of sweet rain and fresh moss. Purrs of pleasure came rippling from your throat and you nuzzled against the fabric, the tip of your tongue gently tracing the fibers. All the pain slowly melted away, your brain becoming fuzzy and clean like swabs of cotton. For the first time in forever, you felt truly safe.
Your mother gasped
“Where - who did you get this from?” she croaked.
Your brother gulped. “The - the guy who came ‘c-cause of the monsters…,” he mumbled, “The slayer…”
Everyone stopped and looked at him, their eyes dark and grave.
“H-he came up to me in the square… asking for my scarf - or actually… (y/n)’s scarf…”
Father glared at him. “You idio-”
“Let him finish!” Mother interrupted as she held him back. Your brother just looked down and fiddled with his hands.
“So I gave it to h-him, a-and he seemed to like it, so I took his handkerchief, b-b-but,” he paused to look up at them, “h-he said it didn’t matter… that he’d… pay for her.”
Your father took in breath and sighed, carefully walking over to him, towering over the small boy.
“Were you followed?”
“I-I don’t think s-so…”
“Good. Lock the doors.”
Everyone took shifts to stay up that night, guarding the doors and peeking out the windows for any sign of visitors. You could sense their troubles, but for the most part you kept to yourself, cuddled up against the handkerchief and resting. Despite the brief ease of pain, you still felt the discomfort of your heat, still missing something but not quite sure what yet. 
There were no signs of any trouble for several days, until the night you woke to hushed voices and sounds of scurrying. Listening in, you quickly gathered what was happening.
The man - no - the alpha was here. Father went outside to talk to him. Although you were pretty sure there was no talking involved… more likely there was yelling… maybe some threatening.
After a few painful minutes, he came back in, a deep scowl painting his face. He also carried with him a multicolored robe, half red, half tessellated. He threw it to you before walking to the main room where the rest of your family was. You quickly huddled over it and started cuddling. It smelled perfect.
“... What did he say?” Mother hesitantly questioned.
“Bastard is stubborn. Says he’s not leaving without her. Told him ‘tough luck’. Nobody is leaving until he does.”
Your siblings all groaned, resuming their posts of either guarding the door or taking their turn of sleep. Despite not being yourself, you still felt the guilt of it eat at you. As soon as they left, your mother leaned closer to him.
“Dear… are you sure this is what’s best? Look at her - she’s miserable… we all are.”
He just shook his head at her.
“He’s not taking her. Not my daughter.”
-
The following days were gruesome. For everyone. No one was allowed to leave other than the occasional grocery run. No one could go out to their individual jobs. Even hobbies were off the table as every hour of the day was spent protecting the house. Protecting you.
This was the longest heat you’d had yet. It was as if your body knew your alpha was nearby, waiting for him to come claim you before you were allowed to calm down. The dry spell was wearing off, the sharp pains being transformed into uncomfortable cramps that made you desperate to wrap your legs around something. Your every entrance ached for company, feeling empty and barren without the presence of your alpha’s taste and essence. But regardless of your buzzed mind, you were still you enough to be too embarrassed to complain about that discomfort.
But even that part of your dignity was wearing thin. Every day without your carnal needs being tended to was just multiplying them. They all tried to give you privacy to take care of yourself, but it was simply impossible to leave you alone for too long. You needed to have eyes on you at all times in case the worst happened. In case he found you. So you settled for wrapping yourself up in his clothing. How was it possible for a single man to smell so edible? You found yourself wondering on the quiet days what he looked like, where he lived, how many pups he wanted. The primal part of you was oh so desperate to please him, regardless of how much you knew about each other. The omega part of your mind assured you every hour of the day that this was fate. That you were meant for each other. That you needed each other. 
But some part of you was still skeptical. No one else had felt right, so why would he? 
Everything would be fine… within a few days, surely the standoff would break. The man had to leave sometime. Regardless of the heartbreak such a thought brought you, it was what was best for everyone. 
-
You were awoken one night to a sudden crash of noise outside your room, followed by voices bickering. Vaguely you could make out the voices of your parents, followed by one you didn’t recognize. One that sent warmth right to the core of you. Within moments there seemed to be an altercation, two thuds hitting the ground. The sound was short lived as silence followed soon after. Your heart raced with the footsteps that slowly crept to your door, your arms hugging your scented jacket to your chest. The steps were ceased with more conflict, another bout of harsh words spoken before several more thumps followed. Like they were nothing.
Frantically, you crawled into your closet, quietly shutting the door and shaking as you curled into yourself. You tried your best not to cry, not to make a sound, but you were scared, horrified. Every conscious cell in your brain was screaming at you to run while the other half were begging you to get pupped. Your breathing stopped as soon as the door slid open.
His footsteps treaded carefully across the wooden floor, taking their sweet time to take in the scenery of your room. To find you. A subtle trill of growls could be heard along with the creaking of the floorboards, adding to your horror. He seemed to stand still for a few moments, taking in long drawls of your scent before heading straight to your hiding place. You froze.
You braced yourself as the closet door was carefully, slowly pushed open, your eyes shut tight and pouring with tears. A sob escaped you as the moonlight poured in to shower you. You were done for, you were sure of it. 
A gentle hand whispered along your hairline, tucking the hair out of your eyes.
“It’s okay kit, I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”
The sound of his voice was like that of an angel, soft and pleasant to the ear. Shyly you looked up from your lap, curious to find the owner of such a song, and you were not at all disappointed. Velvety, fluffy dark hair, a large muscular build, deep azul eyes. You could get lost in those eyes. You so desperately wanted to.
You were confident then that you had died and standing right in front of you was an angel ready to take you to heaven. No other explanation would suffice. He was simply too beautiful to truly exist. A rush of slick pooled down your thighs and you whined. Your hands were reaching up toward him before you could stop them, his own sinewy arms coming down to wrap under your arms to hike you up. You whimpered as you were lifted to his chest, looking back sadly toward your abandoned coat. He promptly leaned over and snatched it up. “I know, omega, I see,” he mumbled into your ear, sending a thrill up your spine.
He draped your haori, his haori really, over your shoulders so it would cover your nude back before he headed back out the door. You didn’t know where he was taking you, nor did you care. All you cared about was getting more of his scent into your body as you smelled and licked at the gland in his neck that he had so gracefully exposed for you when he tore aside his uniform.
As he carried you out, you could see the unconscious bodies of your family lying on the ground, not one of them with a single scratch. He must’ve knocked them out somehow. All except your father, who still seemed to be attempting to get up. He rambled angrily at your alpha, words no one could understand as they slurred from his mouth. Your alpha stopped in the doorway to your home, turning to face your struggling father who glared from his place on the floor. You looked down at him sadly and tears welled in your eyes.
“I left my payment on the table. We’ll see you again… sometime," Alpha spoke, not a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Not even when he turned you around did he seem to be riddled with guilt, a mewl falling from your lips as shape canines pricked at the nape of your neck, sinking deeper and deeper until you were howling from the pain, your vision going stark white as you were claimed. You passed out not a moment after, your alpha licking his lips of your sweet blood.
When you awoke you were in a house you didn’t recognize, in a bed that wasn’t yours, but you had a hard time caring as everything smelt purely of him. His scent fermented in the air you breathed like a fine wine, getting you drunk off the mere smell. Perhaps it was because he sat only a few feet away at the foot of the bed, as if guarding you from the outside. It made you feel that much safer. As soon as he saw you rise from your slumber, his pupils grew, the cautionary slits becoming dilated orbs. You pouted when he backed off the mattress, his hand pointing toward you, as if commanding you to stay in place.
“Nest, omega.”
The command rang in your ears like an alarm, your mind quickly working overtime to complete the task. Your alpha must’ve prepared as there were several piles on the floor composed of blankets, pillows, and clothing, all perfect for your nest. You set about collecting the one that you deemed fit, weaving them together over the bed like a second layer. It was like your body instinctively knew what to do as you not once had to overthink how to craft your nest, your hands doing all the work while your mind wondered. When you were finally finished, you sat at the center of it like an obedient dog, looking to your owner for your next order.
Your heart soared when he softly smiled at you, briskly walking over and cupping your cheek, running his nose along your jawline. His skin touching yours felt like fireworks were going off inside of you. Heat rose to your face as you then realized he was completely naked as well.
“You’re such a good girl… good omega. It’s time for you to complete the bond,” he murmured as he joined you in your nest, setting himself in front of you and moving his fluffy, long hair to the side, exposing his nape. Your own mating bite throbbed like a reminder on your neck as you eagerly latched your little teeth to his skin, biting as hard as you could until blood filled your mouth. It tasted sweet. You licked your lips as you pulled away, blushing at the indent it left in his skin, showing your marking of him. The throbbing eventually faded away into nothingness, paving the way for a heady pleasure that reached from your head to your toes. You felt complete, like a part of you was missing this entire time and you just hadn’t realized it. Every sense of struggle and rebellion inside you vanished, and you collapsed back onto the bed.
“Alphaaa…” you moaned, writhing in your nest with a newly awakened pleasure, one that made the emptiness in your womb all the more noticeable. Pups. You needed pups.
“Get up, omega. You’re going to sit on my face,” he leisurely commanded, staring down at you with possession and licking his lips. Your body moved on its own, shifting to the side so alpha could lay in your place while you straddled his head. Embarrassment still managed to weasel its way inside of you. What if he didn’t like the color? The smell? The taste? For once, your brain and your omega were both anxious about the same thing.
He seemed to notice your apprehension as took a deep breath of scent, growling lowly and dragging you down to properly seat yourself in his mouth. You cried out as he dragged his tongue between your slick folds, settling the tip on your clit and bringing it into his mouth to suck. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your hands falling to clutch at his locks to brace yourself. His own paw wrapped around your ass, guiding you to properly grind yourself against his tongue while he enjoyed you. Sounds of rapture tore from you, falling upon his eager ear like music from the gods. Slick poured down his throat like an elixir, coating his tongues and messily dripping down the sides of his mouth. He ate from you like you were a ripened fruit, abundant with juice and teeming with nectar ready to be plucked and devoured. 
Your grief of emptiness quickly fell to the back of your mind as you focused on the divine ecstasy of being eaten, your sex swollen and sensitive as alpha relentlessly took what he needed from you. He shamelessly groaned into your heat, openly expressing how pleased he was with what you had to offer. He cursed every so often, spreading your lips open with two fingers and pressing his nose close to smell your feminine scent. Those same two fingers were quick to sneak into you, spearing you open on his thick digits, all to prepare you for something much bigger. It didn’t take you long to come, juices leaking out of you generously as you clenched on his thrusting fingers and cried out. He still rocked you upon his face as you came down from your high, licking up every messy drop from you regardless of your sensitivity. You bit back your tears and let him do as he pleased, so very eager to please your alpha. You’d be in agony without him so the least you could do was feed him.
You turned back after a moment to distract yourself from the overstimulation, desperate for something to cling to. Your gaze instantly landed on the cure for all your agony.
His cock stood tall and proud between his strong thighs, the tip flushed with color and large veins popping all over it. It was so thick… so long… it was going to tear you apart so easily… you’d never wanted anything more in your life. You drooled as you looked back at it, a renewed vigor alighting in your cunt. Especially when your eyes lingered down to the base of it, the beginnings of a bulbous knot taking root there, preparing to plug you up so you can keep all his little babies warm. You salivated at the thought.
Finally, alpha had his fill, pressing several soft kisses to your pussy before unraveling you from his face and setting you aside. Your belly stirred as you watched his cock bob between his legs as he rose up, his muscles straining beautifully like strings on a harp as he moved. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in his lap and lavish him with attention, worship your alpha like he so deserved for taking care of you so well. But your body refused to move, clinging to his every word and awaiting his command. You watched hungrily as he stood and stretched his arms and neck, likely sore from lying about for so long. He laughed softly as he caught you staring, your eyes staring lovingly between his thighs as you panted like bitch in heat. After all, you were one.
“Down,” he told, his voice imposing and husky, “Spread your legs.”
You didn’t even have to think as your body did what it was told, lying on your back obediently in the center of your nest and opening your legs. He grinned meanly.
“Not that way. Present for me.”
You whined as you rolled to your front, planting your face in the sheets and raising your ass high in the air, presenting your little hole for breeding. 
He chuckled and climbed in the nest behind you, running a warm hand along your spine.
“That’s a good girl. So obedient for me… You want my kits don’t you?” he crooned. 
You cried out into the bedding, raising your hips higher and wagging your ass at him. He tutted at you and kept you still with hand, leering down at you with predatory eyes like a fox to a rabbit.
“Puh-please alpha… it hurts…,” you sobbed, sniffling weakly and trying to press your thighs together to ease the ache inside of you. He easily pried them open again, slipping his swollen cock between your legs and dragging it across your cunt and belly.
“I asked you a question, omega. Answer me.”
“Y-yes, alpha!,” you cried, biting your fist with frustration, “I-I want your kits… s-so bad…”
He chuckled again with approval and playfully rocked his member against you. “You do, don’t you… I’d bet this is your first time wanting anything like this, isn’t it?” You furrowed at his question, plagued by its accuracy. He seemed to take enjoyment with your confusion.
“I was in a similar situation myself,“ he muttered, taking his cock away from your legs and pressing the leaking tip between your folds, making you shiver. “I didn’t want anyone, didn’t need anyone, I thought it just wasn’t meant to be.”
He slowly pitched his hips forth into your tightness, stealing your breath away as he split you open. Despite the abundance of slick, the stretch hurt more than anything, tears dripping down your cheeks as you whimpered. He only stopped when he was balls deep, every inch of his cock swaddled by your plush insides. You swore you could feel him all the way to your brain.
“Didn’t - didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone I’d wanna mate with,” he grunted, nearly whining from how tight you were, “But then I was called to that small, little village, could smell you a mile away… took me weeks to find you…”
“Please d-don’t move yet alpha,” you begged feebly.
“I know kit, I know… ‘s your first knot, I’ll be gentle,” he promises, easing your worries as you went limp into the bedding.
He waited patiently for your pain to ease, running his hands along your sides and petting your thighs. Regardless of the hurt, slick gushed from you due to such nurturing.
“Asked your father to give you up… even offered him money, but he refused. So, I had to take you. Alpha knows what’s best, don’t I?”
“Y-yes, alpha,” you faintly murmured, your body heating up as you were molded around him like clay.
He softly smiled at you and rolled his hips, churning his cock into your guts. You shook with the sensation, so sure you would burst any moment with how full you were. Every second he moved, the wetter you became, slick sticking to his thatch of pubic hair and coating his heavy balls. The ache of penetration melted away with every second, pleasure filling the gaps it left.
His hand reached under you and pressed at your belly, rubbing the bulge he’d left in you.
“Gonna leave my pups right here, right where you need them… need you to keep them warm until they make it to your belly.”
You hardly even heard him as you drooled into the nest, moaning and mewling like a little whore. The pain was hardly there anymore, euphoria overwhelming you as you eagerly ground back into him, desperate for more of what your alpha could give you. Taking the hint, he began truly thrusting into you, pulling out several inches before shoving it all back into you, bullying your cervix into submission. Your cries of pleasure only increased in volume and frequency, filling the room along with the sloppy noises of your union. You wanted his cubs. You needed his cubs.
His knot, you realized. His knot was the answer to everything, the solution to all your problems. Without it you were just a hollow shell of an omega. You came from just the epiphany, squeezing tight around him and squirting slick into his lap.
“Kn-n-not,” you whined, “kn-not… knot… knot!” You were going to die if you didn’t get it, you could feel it!
He laughed cruelly behind you, “You want my knot, omega?” His hips moved faster, pounding you into the bed and ruining the nest you worked so hard to make. You didn’t care. There were more important things at stake.
“Yes!” you pleaded, sniffling pathetically and digging your nails into the many blankets surrounding you. He growled darkly and loomed over you, threading his hand around the back of your skull and shoving you into the mattress, limiting your air intake. He violently pistoned into you, using you as nothing but a hole to breed his cum into, precisely what you wanted. You squealed for him, happily gave him free use of your form to use for his benefit, anything was worth it if you got his babies. 
You could feel his knot grow as it pressed in and out of your hole, thickening furiously and stretching you beyond repair, ensuring that not a drop of his precious essence would exceed it. A dopey smile was plastered on your face as you let him use you, your hair messy and tousled as you were buried into the bed.
Finally his knot threatened full capacity, popping in and out of you painfully before locking inside, swelling to its full size and keeping you in place. You wailed with bliss, your climax a mere hair's breadth away as you awaited for a single push to make you tumble over the edge.
Your alpha panted viciously behind you, grunting and groaning as your cunt milked him unforgivably, The moment the first wave of cum filled you, you saw stars. Fireworks of scorching white lit up behind your eyes, blinding you and making you bawl. You’d never felt such bliss, such elation, it was bordering on the edge of painful as one high bled into another and another and another. Wave after wave of piping hot sperm was emptied inside you, filling out your belly and gushing into your womb. His large knot promised not a drop would go to waste as every ounce was kept in your pussy, filling you to brim so much so that you could nearly taste it.
You weakly tried to crawl away as it became too much for you, you couldn’t take it anymore. But even without his unrelenting hold on you, his knot wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere.
“No, omega,” he growled harshly, “Warm my kits that you begged for. You aren’t going to leave here without my litter growing inside you.”
He leaned over and pinched his teeth around your scruff, rendering you useless as you went limp underneath him. It was too much, you couldn’t take it all. But what choice did you have as he kept you in place, taking load after load of his potent seed into your womb, exactly what you had asked for. You pathetically wept against your arms as your belly was filled.
As was an omega’s fate, regardless of what was planned for. 
-
-
-
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flametrashiraarchive · 9 months
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Hi, it says your requests are open! Can I request a nsfw scenario for Giyuu and his crush going to a public bath house, and the receptionist mistakes them for a couple so they have to share a bath.. hehe.. and he gets a boner and tries to hide it?
thanks and feel free to ignore im kind of embarrassed aaaa
AAAAA THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN! Thank you for being my very first ask! I hope you enjoy!
I'll try to work on the other asks tomorrow too! Thank you so much!
NSFW under the cut...
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Bathing with Giyuu 💦
You've traveled with the water hashira long enough to know when his quiet stoicism slips into panicked silence. 
To the uninitiated, Giyuu's facial expression is one of dead calm, but his deep blue eyes give away far more than he realizes, and right now he's shitting himself. 
"It'll be fine," you sigh, standing shivering in your yukata. It's morning and the sun has barely begun to warm the world up. "I won't peek. We'll just bathe, get out, and never speak of this again."
You're mostly trying to assure him, but there is a little part of you that's nervous too. It's just a simple mixup; the lady running the bathhouse just mistook you for a married couple and sent you to the same private onsen. And if the pair of you weren't so damn introverted you could probably have the mistake rectified fairly quickly, but the thought of the awkwardness and the apologies... no this is somehow simpler.
Giyuu is already in the bath, submerged up to his shoulders, the steam and clear water doing very little to obscure his… everything. 
He sighs as you shiver and says flatly, "Fine. Get in. But if you tell anyone about this, especially the other hashira…"
"My lips are sealed… turn around."
He does as you ask, turning his back and lowering himself until his chin is touching the water. He stares at the rocks surrounding the edge pool as if they're the most interesting thing in the world.
Your heart races as you slip off your yukata and leave it hanging from a nearby tree. As desperate as you are for this bath, and as much as you tried to brush it off, it is a little weird to be naked with Giyuu.
You quickly get into the water. It only reaches your bellybutton, but you can crouch and fully submerge your body just like he's doing. "Okay, I'm in." 
You expect his shoulders to relax but if anything they get more tense. What little you can see of his face is bright red. "Ugh this was a bad idea."
"It's fine! Come on Giyuu, we've been traveling and fighting demons for days without a break. Everything hurts. I need this bath. If it's so awful sharing with me then you can always get out."
He shakes his head firmly, still looking away. "No. Absolutely not."
"Okay well… let's not make a big deal out of it." It is pretty fun to annoy him so you tease a little. "We're just two unmarried friends, bathing together…naked. Nothing weird about it."
He brings his hand out of the water to pinch the bridge of his nose. You brace yourself for his exasperated reprimand, but in the same heartbeat as he opens his mouth to speak you hear something. You sense movement behind you. 
He hears it too and the pair of you instinctively stand, both on high alert. After days of fighting for your lives against demons, neither one of you can fully relax yet. It takes a moment to realize it's daytime. The demons are all hiding from the sun. You're safe. Your yukata just slipped down from the tree branch.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn your head to face him. "Probably just a squirr- oh god!!"
You're naked. He's naked. The water is waist deep on you but he's taller…
And God, he's rock-fucking-hard.
He doesn't speak. He just releases a panicked grunt, attempts to cover himself with both hands, fails to conceal it fully, and dips down to hide beneath the water. 
And you just freeze as your heart lunges against your ribs. That image is burned into your mind forever; his lean, muscular body… the way it curved. The veins…
"Sit down!" He says finally. 
You bring up your arm to cover your tits. "Oh! Right."
As you submerge your body in the water. You're facing each other, both bright red, unable to make eye contact. Your heart is racing and you're pretty sure his must be too.
You're the first to break, your eyes sliding across to him. The corner of your mouth tugs upward.
"Not a word," he whispers.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Giyuu's eyes flicker to you and then away again. 
You can't hold it anymore. A laugh sputters out of you. "We're so ridiculous."
His well-practiced stoicism starts to falter, and a faint smile curves his lips. "Yeah. We are, aren't we?" 
It feels good to laugh; days of tension and exhaustion slip away, rising with the steam of the onsen. And it feels even better to laugh with him. 
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scrimblyscrorblo · 4 months
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Be nice to him, he’s just a lil’ guy 🥺
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flametrashira · 4 months
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Pegging Giyuu
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NSFW. Sub!Giyuu x dom!reader. Reader uses a strap-on. Approx 530 words.
Giyuu is pretty, there’s no denying that; his crow-feather hair, his blue oasis eyes, his body honed by discipline and battle. But he’s even prettier on all fours, face buried in the pillow as you take him from behind. 
His muffled moans fill the room as you press the tip of your strap-on into him, your tongue tracing the path of his spine to make him shiver. 
“That’s it… you’re taking it so well, Giyuu.”
“Nggh…”
He doesn’t speak. He simply turns his head to the side so you can see the blush on his cheeks peeking beneath his hair. The sensation of penetration has him so overwhelmed at first— it always does. So you wait, the tip of your dildo buried in him, kissing the dimples just above his ass while he acclimates to the sensation.
It doesn’t take long. As a hashira, Giyuu has excellent control over his body and his muscles, and that includes relaxing them. The moment he’s ready, he rocks backward, his back arching so prettily as he takes you deeper.
“Good fucking boy.”
Your praise is as addictive to him as the insistent press against his prostate when you start to rock your hips. Every thrust earns you a grunt; quiet at first, then louder, the sounds emerging from him shattering and fragmented. He presses his face to the crook of his elbow and moans into it to muffle the sound. 
But that’s no good and he knows it. Hiding his face like that, you can barely hear him. You grab a fistful of his hair and tug it toward you, raising his head from his arm until his neck is fully bent and he has no choice but to moan into empty air.
And he takes it so well, rocking back, fucking himself on your strap, gasps and throaty groans punctuating each thrust. 
“Ah- ah- fu-huh-huck… gonna…cuh-hum… nghh sorry sorry, ‘m so sorry. Fuck. Oh- hoh- fuck… ‘m sorry…”
“Stop apologizing, Giyuu,” you say, kissing the valley between his shoulder blades as you reach around to stroke his cock for him. “This is all for you. I want you to cum for me.”
You know him well enough to know some part of him is protesting against that; a voice in the back of his mind still convincing him that he’s unworthy of love or praise. His throat flexes, his jaw clenching as he holds back and just allows himself for once to feel. You’re training him so well. 
He nods once. “Oh-kay.”
“Good,” you whisper, feeling his dick throb in the tunnel of your fist while you continue to fuck him from behind. “Now, are you gonna cum for me? Huh? You gonna be a good boy for me?”
“Ohh—fuck!” He fills the air with broken growls of pleasure, shuddering back into you, the heat of his cum flooding your palm. “G-gods…”
“That’s it, that’s it,” you whisper, pushing your dildo deeper into him to give him one last push, making his back arch so beautifully the sight makes your breath hitch. “You’re so fucking pretty.”
“Thank you,” he gasps, legs giving out beneath him as he slumps forward onto the pillows. 
One day he’ll believe it too.
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muichirosworld · 9 months
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midnightwriter21 · 13 days
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hiii!! may I request giyuu w a s/o who's hands are always cold? just keep it fluff ♡♡ thank youu :DD hope u have a wonderful day 💖
demon slayer hcs: giyuu w/ an SO thats always cold
characters: giyuu tomioka x reader
warnings: fluff! giyuu being a sweetie pie
AN: back on my demon slayer bs <3 thanks for the request mwah
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GIYUU
okay so i think Giyuu is naturally cold as well
i mean cmon… he’s the water hashira
and yk how natural rivers are usually cold bc of the running water??
his breathing style is literally running water
u picking up what im putting down? okay good
so he’s naturally cold
and ur naturally cold
this is both a good and a bad thing
good because he doesn’t mind when you put ur cold feet on him at night when ur cuddling
which is a major slay^
but it’s bad because homie has no body heat to share with you
he physically cannot use his own body to warm u up
but that doesn’t mean he won’t try!!
mans sees you rubbing your hands together to warm them up?
he’s covering your hands with his and rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hand
maybe laying a sweet kiss on your pulse point too if ur lucky
our pretty blue eyed boy sees you shivering?
here he is coming to pull you close to him and cover you both up with a blanket
honestly i think he uses your natural body temp as an excuse to be affectionate
OOOOOOO
yk what else?
he stocks up on whatever your favorite hot beverage is
you like hot chocolate?
he is making it for you from SCRATCH
with marshmallows and whip cream and everything
coffee?
oh he’s already got a pot of coffee brewing before you have to ask
tea?
it’s already in a cup and in your hand before you have to open your mouth to say anything
yeah i love this awkward man baby
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hxney-lemcn · 19 days
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Looking Out For You — Giyū Tomioka x gn! hashira! reader
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summary: your decision to befriend the reclusive water hashira turns your life around for the better.
tw: anxious and insecure reader, awkward convos, non-descriptive injuries, mentions of getting stitches.
a/n: I finally wrote for Kimetsu no Yaiba, been a fan of this when there was only one season of the show (read the entire manga as it got updated).
wc: 6k
Master List
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It was no secret that the water hashira was a loner. He stuck to himself and blended into the background. At first you were neutral towards him, you were similar in a sense. Kept to yourself and tried to blend into the background. The big difference is that not only were you friends with the love hashira, but you had managed to endear yourself towards some of the others. You weren’t sure how you did it, but it was nice to know that they cared. For Giyū Tomioka, it was the complete opposite. 
You could only hear insults towards the man for so long. A part of you related to him, and hearing Kochō be so passive aggressive towards him made you feel unsettled. So you made up your mind, you were going to try and befriend Tomioka. You had been completely alone before, and you had wished for someone to befriend you, so you were sure he was longing for the same. 
You had told Mitsuri of your plan as you both walked towards the Ubuyashiki Estate. You all had been called for a brief. These were rare, but it was nice to see how your fellow hashira’s were, and also a perfect excuse to try and talk to the water hashira. Mitsuri was nearly jumping up and down at the information, an excited grin overtaking her features. 
“That’s so cute!” She squealed, clasping her hands together. “You have to tell me how it goes.”
“I already feel like I’m going to fail,” You said, slightly sweating at the thought. “Last time I tried to make a friend it ended up really awkward because I never know what to say.”
“Hm,” She hummed in thought. “Just try and find a connection.”
You purse your lips, “That’s easier said than done.”
It wasn’t much longer before you found yourself sitting next to the stoic man. Ubuyashiki was going over statistics, how we could improve and how well we’ve been doing. I felt myself getting more anxious by the second. After the meeting I would try and at least say hi, but I was wondering if that was a good idea. Seconds ticked by while you had basically toned out Ubuyashiki’s smooth voice, fingers fidgeting in your lap. Once you were all excused, you hyped yourself up, looking over to the black haired man.
 “Hello!” You said a little too loudly, a nervous smile adorned your lips as  you gained Tomioka’s attention. 
His blank stare watched you for a few seconds before replying, “Excuse me.”
Then he left. 
…just like that. You blinked, mouth dropping in slight awe at just how fast he managed to escape. You had spent so long going over situations and anxious thoughts…only for him to barely acknowledge you. 
You didn’t even realize Mitsuri joined you until she spoke up, “Maybe next time?”
You turned your attention to the green eyed beauty, a pout adorning your lips, “He didn’t even say hi back.”
“Ara ara~” Kochō joined us, an empty smile placed on her lips. “I’m afraid it’s a lost cause.”
Your playful pout had turned into a frown, your feelings towards the insect pillar were mixed. She was blunt, which would be nice at times, but others it could be harsh. “Oh well,” You shrugged. “At least I’ll be able to say I tried.”
You had accidently ran into Tomioka only a few days later. You were walking back to your estate, exhausted after a long mission. It was more tedious than difficult, as the walking had been longer than the fight by far. You couldn’t believe your eyes when they landed on the split patterned haori. Before your anxiety could get the best of you, you approached him.
“Hello!” You waved, this time not shouting. “How are you doing Tomioka-san?”
Once again his stoic features watched you briefly, like he was trying to gauge your intentions, “I’m doing fine.”
Yes! He couldn’t run away like last time, you’ll make sure of it.
“How old are you?” You asked, genuinely curious. He looked both young and old in a sense, and you were curious where you stood compared to your ages.
Another awkward pause as you both stood on the trail, Tomioka finally answered, “Ninteen.”
Your mouth dropped open, unable to hide your surprise, “Nineteen! I thought you were at least twenty-two!” Tamioka only glanced away awkwardly, and you waved your hands around. “Not that it's a bad thing, I’m only twenty! So we’re really close in age. Besides, Tokitō’s fourteen so nineteen isn’t that bad…sorry I’m rambling.”
Your anxiety started to run rampant, this is the most you had spoken to the water pillar and it was really awkward. You both seemed to be in the same boat as he awkwardly nodded, arms crossed as his eyes couldn’t meet yours. An awkward silence encompassed you both and you felt yourself losing your composure.
“I’m sorry,” You apologized again, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “I want to befriend you but I’m very bad at talking to others. Mitsuri-chan recommended finding something we both relate to, but I am unsure how to do that.” You weren’t sure if your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore Tomioka’s eyes widened slightly, head tilting ever so slightly. He almost reminded you of a puppy. 
“We shouldn’t be friends,” Tomioka’s tone spoke with finality. Your brows furrowed, you could understand him saying that, but the sting of rejection overpowered your thoughts. Normally you’d bow as an apology and scurry away to mull over all the points in which you made yourself look like a fool, but your wish to friend him overpowered that.
“Why not?” You asked, a slight frown pulling on your lips. 
Tomioka opened his mouth only to close it, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Finally, he replied, “I don’t want to be friends with you.”
You nodded, the sting of rejection spreading. You felt your face flush in embarrassment as you bowed, “I apologize, I wish you well Tomioka-san.”
You quickly turned around, rushing towards your estate, shame and embarrassment continuing to flood through you. You had quickly written a letter to Mitsuri, venting about how embarrassed you were. You had been sent on another mission shortly after, allowing you to forget about your embarrassing fiasco, at least for a brief moment. You were nearly back to normal, your restless nights finally ceasing as the memory started to fade to the back of your mind. Until it was violently forced back to the forefront.
You had found yourself resting in the same wisteria house as Giyū Tomioka. You both sat in silence, eating your food without acknowledging the other. It felt wrong, like you should say something, but those words he spoke rang in your head, holding you back, ‘I don’t want to be friends with you.’ 
You hate to admit it, but that simple sentence had brung back insecurities you thought you had overcome. You didn’t blame him, not at all. It wasn’t Tomioka’s fault that you had seemed to crumble due to one person's seemingly unapproval of you. You ate with your head bowed, hoping that you weren’t annoying him in any way. Was it the way you looked? The way you talked? Had you rambled too much in your nervousness? Did your mere aura annoy him? If so, you felt even more guilty for making him sit in your presence. 
Tomioka on the other hand hadn’t noticed your inner dilemma. Although he did find you seeming to shrink in on yourself further and further unusual, he wasn’t sure what your normal was. You hadn’t seemed to act like this around the other hashira’s, he only saw glimpses of you. If he were to be honest, he had seen the way you interacted with Mitsuri, so lively and happy. He wished he could experience that side of you, but he knew he had ruined any chance already. ‘I don’t want to be friends with you,’ those words haunted him. It was a lie, he did in fact want to be friends with you, but you were better off without him. He would only manage to drag you down.
“Are you finished?” Tomioka asked. You hadn’t even realized you had stopped eating. Looking up at him for the first time, you stared at him with wide eyes.
“Oh! Uh, yeah,” You stumbled. “Here, I can clean up.” Moving faster than he could protest, you had grabbed the empty bowls and started cleaning, not wanting to be a burden. The lady of the house was surprised when you approached her with the dirty dishes, asking where to set them. When she protested you helping her wash them, you begrudgingly made your way back to your shared room for the night. 
“Thank you,” Tomioka spoke up randomly, causing you to glance at him.
“It’s okay,” You shrugged, prepping your futon to your liking. “I like helping.”
It was harder for you to fall asleep than you’d like to admit. You had been running around for the past few days and it seemed that your mind couldn’t settle just yet. You kept your eyes closed, willing yourself to sleep as your body felt exhausted. 
It was even harder for you to fall asleep as Tomioka had murmured into the night, “I wish we could be friends, but this is for the best.”
Great, now you really weren’t going to fall asleep. 
The sun was just starting to shine through the windows, causing you to slowly wake up. You were surprised that you had awoken earlier than Tomioka. He looked so peaceful, the usual tension in his face had been relaxed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you went to take care of yourself in the bathroom. Your foggy mind slowly remembered the restless night before, how Tomioka had confessed to wanting to be friends with you when he thought you were asleep. Now that you knew that you weren’t the problem/reason, you were going to try even harder to befriend him.
When you returned to the room, you had half expected the room to be empty, but to your delight, Tomioka was still there, having just woken up.
“Good morning,” You smiled sleepily, still feeling sluggish. You tried to ignore how cute he looked as he rubbed his eyes.
“Good morning,” Tomioka replied back softly. 
“Did you sleep well?” You asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. While talking, you made your way to your satchel, making sure everything was in order.
“Yes,” He replied, the sounds of shuffling cloth coming from behind you. Glancing back, you watched as he was about to leave. “Excuse me,” He alerted, sliding the door open and leaving. At first you thought he was leaving completely like the last time, except you noticed his sword was still in the room. 
‘Good,’ You thought. ‘He should at least eat something before leaving.’
The lady of the house knocked on the door before entering, a bright smile on her face. You both chatted briefly as she set up a zataku table, loading some food on top. Tomioka entered the room not long after, glancing at the food but ignoring it. Swallowing the bite of taiyaki, I spoke up, “You should join me! The food’s really good.”
“I’m not hungry,” Tomioka muttered.
You bit your lip, trying to think of how you could get to know him better, “Not even for just a bite of rice?” His deep blue eyes glanced at me, pausing before he grabbed his sword, then his eyes drifted to the food. “I really can’t eat this all by myself,” You said, hoping that would finally entice him. It seemed your persuasive skills were better than you thought (or his loneliness was finally getting the best of him). 
As you both sat at the table, you found yourself rambling about your mission. The awkwardness between the both of you from before had seemed to vanish (on your end at least) as you talked to fill the silence. How the demon’s you were sent to kill had become more challenging, how the treck left you exhausted, how awkward you were around to kakushi. It got to the point of you rambling about this cute Ezo red fox you saw.
Tomioka may be a bit oblivious at times, but he had noticed this drastic change. Just last night you barely let out a peep, and now you were talking about anything and everything. He didn’t mind, no one has talked with him in such a way since…Sabito. It felt very bittersweet for him. He could only ponder on what caused your change, and he hoped that you hadn’t heard his confession last night. Especially since he found his will to be weaker than he’d like to admit. 
Misturi was a very good listener. The way she’d dramatically gasp or watch with bated breath. You knew she was hanging on to every word you spoke. When you had finished filling her in on everything that had happened between both you and Tomioka she squealed. 
“You two are so cute!” She smiled brightly, finishing another bowl of pork cutlet.
“More like we’re both awkward,” You mumbled. Picking at your food (still only on your first portion).
“He said he wanted to be your friend!” She pointed at you with her chopsticks. 
“But I’m not sure how to proceed,” You complained. “Do I just keep talking his ear off about random stuff? I feel like that’ll get annoying quickly.”
“Why don’t you get him something?” She asked, sipping some tea. “Maybe that’ll open him a little.”
“Hmm,” You pondered. What would you even get him? “Maybe.”
So you had continued to think about what a reclusive water hashira may like. It didn’t help that you were in the midst of a market. Vendors resided on either side, showing off their wares to entice customers to view their stalls. You took in the sites, yet nothing really caught your eyes. That was until a vendor who was selling omamori. You were surprised to find someone selling these charms outside of a shrine, so you were a bit weary of the product, but they seemed to be made from genuinely good materials.
You perused the items, there were many different colors and intentions. Finally, you picked out a blue omamori that wishes for happiness. You didn’t really think much of it. You did, in fact, wish Tomioka happiness. The rest of your mission went smoothly, and you sent Tomioka a letter upon your arrival. In the time it took for your crow to come back, you had almost forgotten of the invite. You felt yourself waiting anxiously for the time to come, tidying up your estate even more (much to the kakushi’s dismay), making sure you had enough tea and snacks. 
By the time Tomioka had arrived, you already had two cups of tea and a snack platter set out on your engawa. It was a nice warm and bright sunny day, and you might as well enjoy the scenery of the forest that surrounded your estate. You greeted him with a bright smile, coaxing him to sit down. The both of you savored the tea, sipping in silence. It was nice. Normally you’d feel pressured to say something, like you were failing at keeping the other person entertained, but at the moment you felt peaceful. Sharing a warm cup of tea on a nice day with someone you cared about. 
You watched as the sun rays fell down, barely hitting the forest floor. Rabbits hopping about as insects buzzed around. You quite liked your estate, you were grateful for all that Ubuyashiki has given you. It was in a secluded area not too far from a small village. It gave you a space for yourself, but you were still close enough to society that you weren’t a hermit. You enjoyed nature as well, watching animals was one of your favorite hobbies as you discovered silly little behaviors that they would do. Though as a hashira you found yourself having less and less time to yourself. 
“I have something for you,” You finally spoke up. You both had finished a cup of tea and some of the snacks were gone. You turned your gaze to Tomioka, only to meet his ocean blue eyes. You took the omamori out of your pocket and handed it to the water hashira. He hesitated before finally accepting the gift. You bit your lips, trying to suppress the giant grin that threatened to spread across your lips. A light pink dusted across his cheeks as he stared at it. 
“You didn’t have to,” He replied, eyes still on the gift. “...thank you.”
“No biggie,” You waved it off. “I saw it and thought of you.” You didn’t realize what you said until you had said it. Your eyes widened, and Tomioka’s blush seemed to only intensify. Deciding that ignoring the remark was the best option, you started talking about your last mission and the market you had found that charm in. A giddy feeling overwhelmed you as you watched Tomioka pocket the charm, his gaze looking warmer than usual. 
It was safe to say both you and Tomioka were quite close to each other now. You were someone he enjoyed spending time with and you loved being in his presence. The awkwardness that had initially been a part of your relationship fizzled, a warm atmosphere left in its wake. The two of you would spend time over tea, mostly at your estate, but you were proud to say you’ve spent time at his as well. Sometimes you found yourself going on walks on the trails that littered across your property, and you would point out animals you’d observed and little facts you found out about them over the years. Tomioka thought that if demons hadn’t screwed over the world, you’d have made a wonderful researcher.  
The feeling of something slipping into your pocket had put you on edge. Turning your head swiftly to the side, you stared at Tomioka with wide eyes. He stared at you back, eyes wide and cheeks a light pink. He had been caught. He didn’t know what he was expecting, you were a highly skilled hashira, trained to detect the slightest thing off. Slipping your hand into your pocket, you pulled out an omamori. You felt your face flush as it was not only your favorite color, but it was an anti-evil omamori. 
“Thank you, Tomioka-san,” You thanked with a bright smile. You were so busy trying to figure out how to attach the charm to the hilt of your sword, you almost missed Tomioka’s next words.
“Giyū,” He muttered, head turned away from you. You stared at him slightly in confusion until he clarified, “You can call me Giyū.”
“Thank you, Giyū-san,” You clarified, smiling so wide it felt like your cheeks hurt. “You can call me by my first name as well.” He nodded, still not facing your direction. Tugging gently at his haori, you led him to continue your walk along the trail, the day seeming a lot brighter than before. 
“Please Giyū-san,” You pleaded, putting on your best puppy dog eyes.
He tried his hardest to not meet your gaze, feeling his resolve slowly crumbling, “I…am busy that day.”
“Pleeeeease,” You drawled out, hands clasped as you jutted out your bottom lip. “I don’t want to be stuck as a third wheel.” He had accidently met your gaze, and he felt himself fold, how could you look so cute? 
“Fine.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You exclaimed, pulling him into a hug without a second thought, squeezing him tightly to try and express your gratitude. “I love Mitsuri-chan but Iguro-san scares me.” Giyū stood stiff, arms fell limply at his sides. Unsure what to do, he awkwardly patted your back before you pulled away. Your warmth that had seeped into him seemed to vanish and he immediately wished you held him for just a moment longer. 
The dinner had arrived too quickly for his liking. Although he found himself wanting to spend more time with you, and he didn’t mind Kanroji, Iguro had made his distaste of the water hashira clear multiple times. He hasn’t spent time with you in the presence of others, and he was scared that you’d finally come to your senses and sever your ties with him. 
He had arrived at least fifteen minutes early, which was exactly when you arrived as well. Giyū couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as he approached. You stood to the side of the restaurant that you were all to dine in. You wore a simple kimono, but he couldn’t help but find himself astounded. He thought you were ethereal in your uniform and haori, but seeing you in such casual wear had seemed to revise your beauty in another light. 
You, on the other hand, felt blood drain from your face. Giyū had been the next to arrive after you, and he was wearing his uniform. Your brain had become frenzied as you wondered if you had enough time to make it back to your estate and change your clothes. You didn’t want to stand out amongst your friends. 
“Wait, is everyone going to be in their uniform?” You blurted, feeling slightly dizzy at the thought. Giyū, still being stunlocked, seemed oblivious to your turmoil, shrugged. Your shoulders raised as Giyū stood next to you, waiting for the other two to join. Your brain continued to bug you for ten minutes, and only got worse upon notice of their outfits. Both in their uniforms. You felt your face flush in embarrassment, wanting to hide behind the water hashira as Mitsuri and Iguro spotted you both. 
“Hi!” Misturi waved enthusiastically before gasping your name. “Your kimono is so cute!” Unconsciously, you slightly hide yourself behind Giyū, not enjoying all the eyes on you. This is exactly why you didn’t like standing out in a crowd. 
“Thank you,” You muttered, hand grasping gently at Giyū’s haori. Normally, you wouldn’t have such a harsh reaction to being in such a position, but you could feel Iguro’s eyes watching your every move, judging your every decision. But you’d have to endure it, for Mitsuri’s sake. 
Giyū wasn’t faring much better. He hadn’t expected you to become so shy, using him as a shield. It made him feel a bit prideful and protective, you had chosen him even though you had been friends with Kanroji for longer. Though he also felt a bit embarrassed, unsure how to react to such a situation. He had never thought someone he found attractive would look at him, let alone find comfort in him in such a way. 
You all had entered the restaurant, Mitsuri trying not to squeal at the site before her. She had been trying to refrain from mentioning how your relationship with Giyū seemed to be some romantic plot from a novel she’s read. Every detail you shared with her had her blushing in excitement. She had recalled when you told her you didn’t expect to find love in this lifetime. As a demon slayer, you had little freetime, and the fact that you never knew if the day was going to be your last would loom over you until demons were eradicated. So having friends was tough, and a lover even tougher. She couldn’t be more overjoyed by the fact that you had managed to find someone even with the complications. Which led her to this master plan with Obanai, a secret double date (it would be a double date in her heart). A double date where only one person knew of it as such. 
Once you all got in, you found yourself feeling more comfortable. You found yourself in a comfortable conversation with Mitsuri, both your companions silent as they eyed the other up. It was a comical site for anyone who witnessed it. Mitsuri had beat us all in the amount she consumed, a bright smile as she asked for another. The atmosphere was warm in the small restaurant, the night sky shining through the windows. You slightly felt bad for Iguro and Giyū, as they both seemed out of their element, but overall it was a fun night. It almost felt like a date due to the fact Giyū insisted on walking you home. 
It didn’t take long after that night for you to realize your feelings. You were helping two lower ranked demon slayers defeat a demon. At the end of the battle they had checked in on the other, making sure they were both relatively okay before embracing. It had reminded you of how you treated Giyū, and suddenly it all came crashing down on you. You were in love with Giyū Tomioka. The two demon slayers had thanked you, as you weren’t there to help them initially. They were surprised at how kind you were towards them, remarking how they heard all the hashira’s were cold. You quickly waved them off with a slight laugh, explaining how most of you were just trying to get by like the rest of them. 
You had continued to stew on your feelings, unable to think of anything else. Your mind had been so dangerously drifting off, you found yourself injured. Not gravely, thankfully, but enough for you to end up in butterfly manor. 
“It’s rare to find you here,” Kochō commented as she cleaned your wound, causing you to wince. “Is something the matter? Have you finally realized the lack of heart Tomioka has?”
You frowned, unsure if unpacking your feelings to Kochō was the right play. It wasn’t due to Tomioka’s lack of heart, rather how much heart he has. Your eyes drifted to the sword leaned against the wall next to your current bed, the omamori charm dangling tauntingly. 
“No,” You confessed, hands clenching as she cleaned a particularly deep wound. “It’s actually quite the opposite.”
You took slight satisfaction in the surprise Kochō’s eyes held, but her empty smile didn’t waver, “Don’t tell me he’s managed to trick you somehow.”
“No,” You once again simply answered. “It’s all my own doing.” That was true, in a sense. Of course you couldn’t control your own feelings, but it was you who pushed past Giyū’s barriers and managed to sneak your way into his heart, just as he had snuck his way into yours. Though you weren’t sure if he viewed you in such a way, and you didn’t want to push him farther than he could handle. 
Without pause, Kochō took out a suture kit, threading the needle. Your eyes widened in horror. You’ve only needed stitches very few times, and the nausea you felt when a needle was presented never left. Mercifully, Kochō took out a balm and applied it to the skin around your wound. 
Waiting for a few moments to let the balm numb your skin, she spoke up, “Don’t get your hopes too high with him.” It was at that moment that you realized that Kochō was looking out for you…in a passive aggressive way. Although you didn’t exactly like the way she showed this care (by insulting Giyū), you still felt touched that she even cared in the first place. 
“Don’t worry,” You shrugged. “They’re never really high in the first place.” It was that moment she deemed worthy to pierce your skin. 
You didn’t need too many stitches thankfully, but even with the numbing the process was excruciating. You were relieved when the bandages were finally applied and Kochō bid you farewell. You were sore all over, waiting for the medicine Kochō made you take to finally kick in. Not only were you sore and tired, but you felt slightly ashamed. You allowed your emotions to overtake you and get injured in battle. You were a hashira, these simple things weren’t meant to let your guard down. 
You had been so absorbed in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed said water hashira entering your room. Kochō hadn’t been too surprised when she saw him stalking down the hall as she exited your room. With your previous conversation, and the bits Kanroji accidentally let slip, she had pieced together that Tomioka wasn’t all she thought he was. It was hard for her to believe that he would care about someone, but now that she witnessed the terror that shone in his blue eyes, he had even managed to surprise her. 
“They’re resting,” Kochō said, a fake smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Visiting hours aren’t open for them yet.”
Giyū didn’t even pause, continuing his trek to your room. It didn’t matter that his crow had told him you were only mildly injured, or the fact that Kochō left your room (a clear indicator that you were fine), he needed to see that you were okay with his own eyes. He had lost so much already, and he surrendered himself of such attachments, not only because he didn’t deserve it, but because he didn’t want to go through that again. You had managed to brighten his days again, he looked forward to waking up, wondering if he’d get to hear you laugh that day. All the good came crashing down the second he heard of your injured state.
You were both demon slayers, hashira at that, so you were bound to face injury. Yet he couldn’t help but blame himself. For what? Even he wasn’t sure, but he felt like it was due to the fact you were close to him. Karma for being the one to always survive. So when he quietly opened the sliding door, a breath of relief passed his lips as he saw you stare out the window. The sun hit your figure, causing a warm glow to light up your features. The usual smile that was on your face had turned into a frown, eyes distant. He wasn’t sure what to do. He had accomplished his mission, he’s seen you with his own eyes and you’re breathing perfectly fine, although the bandages that littered your face tugged at his heartstrings. 
“Oh, hello,” You spoke softly, snapping Giyū out of his thoughts. 
“Are you okay?” He asked, internally berating himself for asking such a stupid question. Of course you aren’t okay, you're sitting in a hospital bed at butterfly manor.
“I’m fine,” You smiled slightly. “Just some small injuries. Honestly all this pampering is a little too much if you ask me.” That was a slight lie on your part. It was clearly not just small injuries, or you wouldn’t have been taken to butterfly manor. You felt bad for the poor kakushi that had to tend to your injuries enough so you wouldn’t bleed out as they carried you all the way here. 
Giyū also seemed to sense your lie, his blue eyes unwavering from their intense stare. His eyes raked your body, trying to pinpoint all the injuries that littered your body. Fortunately for you, most of the injuries were hidden by your clothes and blanket. With a sigh, you patted the bed, gesturing for him to sit and join you. He did so hesitantly, ending up sitting as close to the edge as he could. You felt your mood lighten at the sight, the seriousness from before slowly dissipating. 
“You can sit closer silly,” You chuckled lightly. He scooted just slightly, and you smiled at him. “Okay so maybe I needed some stitches, but that was the worst of it. Really, I’m fine.”
Giyū’s shoulders slumped, finally he seemed to be able to calm down. You were fine, truly. You were still there, still sitting by him, still smiling at him, still laughing. Your breath hitched at how intense his gaze was. You felt your face flush as he stared at you with utter adoration. You felt your own gaze soften, probably matching his own. 
“It was my own fault,” You muttered, hoping to quell his worries further. “I was distracted, but that won’t happen again.” His eyebrows furrowed, the silent question in his eyes being loud enough for you to understand. Scratching your cheek, you looked away to try and hide your embarrassment. Should you just say it? Get it off your chest? Would he be weirded out? 
“I was thinking about you.”
Now you both were avoiding eye contact, flustered more than you’d like to admit. He hadn’t expected that. What exactly were you thinking? Have you been thinking about him often? It left him feeling warm at the thought. For some odd reason, it made him happy. 
The silence between you both grew, and you felt more anxious the longer it lasted. “Not…not  in a weird way,” You defended weakly, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Glancing up at him your eyes widened in wonder as a tiny smile pulled on the edges of his lips, red dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. If you could capture this moment, you would in a heartbeat. Deciding that now was your chance, you ripped the bandaid off.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
This time Giyū stared at you in disbelief, and you wondered if you did the wrong thing. But he had smiled earlier! The first smile you had ever seen grace his beautiful features. Perhaps you came to the wrong conclusion. Both of you stared at the other, waiting for the other to make a move. Your heart beat faster and faster the longer he stayed frozen. His entire face and neck was engulfed in a violent shade of red, and you were scared you might’ve broken him. 
“You don’t have to love me back or anything,” The words quickly tumbled passed your lips. “And I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. That’s a weird thing to confess to your friend.”
That seemed to snap him back, he looked down at his lap, trying to regain composure. He found it harder and harder to remain stoic in your presence. The emotions he repressed would always flow to the forefront when you were around, and although it could be overwhelming at times, he still welcomed the feelings. Not sure how to convey his feelings properly (he surely didn’t trust his mouth to say the right thing), he scooted a little closer to you. You watched with bated breath, unsure where he stood on your feelings (he really didn’t make it easy to read him either).
“I reciprocate your feelings,” He replied, voice wavering just slightly. You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly. You weren’t sure what you expected, but such a formal response actually made you feel a bit better. Clearly this was new to both of you and you both weren’t sure how to go about this new territory. But that was fine, because you both could traverse it together.
Only a few days later, Mitsuri had managed to visit you. Giyū had refused to leave your side, assisting you with the simplest tasks. You felt bad for the girls who brought you your necessities as Giyū would watch their every move, ensuring you got all that you needed. When Mitsuri entered your room, she hadn’t expected to see the water hashira sitting next to you, let alone so close! Her green eyes took in the scenario, Giyū not meeting her gaze as he felt flustered that he was caught. You smiled brightly at the love hashira, welcoming her into the room.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” She apologized. 
“It’s okay,” You waved off her concern. “Giyū-kun has been keeping me company.”
Mitsuri couldn’t hold back her squeal, the two of you clearly have grown closer, dare she say you two have a more intimate relationship. Giyū looked even more flustered, head turned away from the both of you. 
“You have to tell me everything!”
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venjt · 1 month
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My first SaneGiyuu art 🙈💕 Guess who likes them more now~♡
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shimaiofdog-new · 8 months
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He still trying😳
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peachdues · 5 days
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Enjoy a peek at Giyuu learning how not to act like a virgin when with the person he loves in TGW Part II
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“Well, if you want her first time to be special –”
“It’s not her first time.” Giyuu said bluntly before feeling his ears heat slightly as Tengen raised his eyebrows in surprise. “We – before the final battle –”
“Tengen’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Ah, so you just couldn’t wait, huh?”
“Well, obviously it’s hard for women to reach completion their first time, even when you properly prepare them –”
“Prepare?” Giyuu interjected, looking quizically at the Sound Pillar.
“Well, y’know, the stuff ya do before you actually put it in.” Tengen clarified, but he paled at the vacant look in the former Water Pillar’s eyes.
“Y-youd did prepare her, didn’t you?” Tengen demanded, sitting up straighter as his eyes narrowed.
Giyuu only stared back at him with that same, blank look, though Tengen could see the blush creep down his ears and to his neck.
The former Sound Pillar pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, eye screwed tightly shut. “Are you telling me,” he grit out. “That you just shoved it in without even stretching her out a bit first? Or at least making sure she was properly lubricated down there?”
Giyuu felt slightly affronted at his friend’s tone. “What do you mean by ‘prepare?’”
Tengen groaned. “Giyuu. Did you use your fingers or your tongue before you put her cock in her?”
He was silent as he thought for a moment. “Was I supposed to?”
Tengen stared in disbelief at the stoic ravenette, before dragging a hand over his face. “Y’know, you shouldn’t be intimate with someone until you know what you’re doing.” He grumbled. “Even Shinazugawa came to me for help before he got with his girl.”
Giyuu cocked his head in confusion. “It’s not like we planned it in advance – it just happened.”
The Sound Pillar’s eye widened in horror. “Giyuu,” he hissed, bracing his hand on his hip. “I’ve seen you change before – you’re not small.” He groaned, loudly at the confusion on his comrade’s face. “Unbelievable – that poor girl.”
“It’s not as though I was rough –” The Water Pillar countered, his tone indignant, but Tengen held up a hand to silence him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times my wives and I get together – I always make sure to prepare them beforehand. Thoroughly.”
Tomioka remained quiet, so Tengen asked, “Do you want to be intimate with her again?”
Giyuu nodded as enthusiastically as someone like Giyuu could, and Tengen sighed. He lowered himself to sit on the large boulder and crossed his legs. “You might as well get comfortable, Tomioka, because you’ve got a lot to learn about female pleasure – and that’s assuming Y/N even lets you back into her bed.”
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kayentokk · 7 months
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Someone For You
Today seemed like you just floated by everything, actually it was almost as if everything floated by you. You were just so tired and you can’t think of anything that would make you feel better at this point.
You made your way into your apartment, and the calming and oh so familiar aroma of pork broth invaded your senses. Your shoulders drop, your whole body feeling lighter already as you make your way into the kitchen.
You stood in the doorway of the kitchen and observed for a second. His sleeves cuffed up to his forearm, the muscles contracting as he chops up the vegetables to go in the broth for the noodles, and his hands. God, his hands, the thick long veins that protrude on his fingers and the top of his hand.
You’ve missed him so much lately, both of your schedules had been busy which caused the inconvenience of not seeing each other as often as you would both like. So you’re wondering to what do you owe this pleasure of him standing in your kitchen?
“You done ogling me now?” He asks with a playful tone.
He hadn’t even turned around. Did he know you were there the whole time? You silently, not so silently, cursed his sharp senses.
“Oh shush,” you retorted while locking your arms around his lean but firm waist.
He breathily chuckles before contentedly humming and continuing to make dinner. This easiness was exactly what you’d been craving all week.
“What are you doing here?” You asked.
“What, I can’t visit my baby anymore?”
It comforted you to know you were his baby, but even more so to know that he was yours.
“Of course you can, ‘jus wanted to know if there was a specific reason,” you shrugged letting go of his waist, opting to sit on the counter and watch him cook for you.
He shifted to pour the vegetables in the broth, and then turned his attention to you and said with delicacy and determination, “I missed you.”
Then, like it was nothing, he turned back around and continued cooking.
At this moment, you took it back, there was something that could make you feel better. There was someone for you.
[Geto, Tomioka, Aizawa, Katsuki, Oikawa, Nanami, Keigo, your fave]
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@cafekitsune for the divider
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muzanswaifu · 11 months
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A Step Ahead - V (Chapter finale)
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
Yandere! Tomioka x Fem! Reader
18+
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Previous Choice: "Stop and ask him where he's taking you"
This is the fifth round of the game and the end to the first chapter. Census has determined that you shall ask the man where he's taking you. Why can't you just listen? He's been angered. Tread carefully.
Warnings: Yandere, Slow Burn, Stalking, Kidnapping, Non-con, Kissing, Violence, Smut later on
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You needed to get more answers first before you could make a proper decision.
Digging your feet into the sodden snow, you planted yourself into the ground, temporarily stopping his drag of you.
“Where are you going?” you burst out, forcing the words from your lips in fear they wouldn’t come out at all.  You weren’t saying no to him, but you weren’t saying yes either. It all depended on what his intentions were.
But the moment you stopped, you felt his grip tighten, his fist burning a tight ring around your arm that made you whine in pain. It scared you. But not nearly as much as the look in his eye as he slowly turned back to face you, his brows pinched and eyes scowling. You’d upset him.
“Would you rather I take you back to your home? To your family? To your mother?” 
You cringed at the question, unsure of his implication. “W-what?”
He scoffed. “I’m sure they would like to know that you’ve blatantly disobeyed them. Punishment would be in order.” Your eyes widened with his statement, dread growing in your gut. You’d never told him your family was waiting. You’d never even told him you’d snuck out.
“H-how did you know that?”
He never answered, returning to tugging you along with him to an unknown destination. His grip was far firmer now, still bruising you.
You tried to wriggle away, tried to rip your arm away to no avail. The man was strong, far stronger than anyone you’d ever encountered. It was like you weren’t even struggling as not once did his hold falter, much less his movements onward. You were starting to tear up, fearful of what was to happen to you. Suddenly getting in trouble with your parents was the least of your worries. 
“W-wait! Who a-are you?!” you cried, still attempting to take your arm away from him without any progress. You even tried unraveling his fingers from you with your free hand, but they were melded to your bone like steel. Your hand was starting to turn purple from the lack of blood flow.
“You’ll soon understand,” he growled sternly, giving another harsh jerk to your numbing arm.
Against your best interests, you began to wail and scream, overwhelmed with the pain of his grip. It hurt terribly, he was frightening you, it was all too much. You viciously tried to pull away from him, desperate in your attempt to escape, but he wouldn’t let go. Your legs ceased to move correctly on their own and the fallen ridged branches on the ground scraped at your legs and clothing, tearing them to shreds.
Suddenly he flung you around, pressing you up against a nearing tree and slotting you between himself and the trunk, making you feel even smaller than you already were. His hand was wrapped around your mouth, silencing any noise you attempted to make and slightly suffocating you. His skin was calloused, and he smelt like moss. A fresh rush of tears glazed your eyes as they met with his intense gaze. Your faces were only centimeters apart.
“Do you want me to tie you up? Gag you?” he asked, as if it were a common question. As if he wasn’t a danger to you.
You hesitantly shook your head, shutting your eyes and praying he understood you. He sighed and carefully released your mouth, laggardly in case you changed your mind.
“Then hush,” he whispered, leaning in until your noses brushed together. His tousled hair ticked your face as the wind blew it against you, his eyes piercing right through you with their obsession. He delicately tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.
“I'm doing this for you, (y/n).”
You gasped.
But that only paved the way for his next embrace, his lips instantly slotting against yours, closing the distance. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t get away. He tasted bitter like tea, minty almost. It seemed displaced as you would more so expect a man who acted like this to taste disgusting and horrid. Nevertheless, you tried to turn away, to get away from the unwanted kiss, but he wouldn’t let you. The hand that had previously silenced you returned, wrapping under your jaw and squishing your cheeks together, forcing you to remain merged and eliciting a groan from him. Saliva began to drool down the side of your mouth from how sloppy it was. Your head was becoming light, your vision blurring.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away, a strand of spit breaking between your lips and falling down your chin. You openly panted and gasped for air, swallowing as much oxygen as you could. Your mind slowly cleared, and the gravity of the situation began rushing in again. Your body was shaking, a panic taking over you as well as a strange thrill. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it was most certainly your most passionate, and you hadn’t even been participating.
“I’ll wake you when we’ve arrived.”
Before you could even answer, even comprehend what he’d said, a sudden strike to your neck had you choking, a darkness spreading across your vision.
You fell unconscious.
This concludes the first chapter.
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flametrashiraarchive · 9 months
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your giyuu scenario was so good!! <3 i saw that asks were open, so if you don't mind, i would love some more nsfw giyuu content. ;w; i don't have any specific ideas, so whatever is fine with me. i just cannot get enough of him lmao
MORE GIYUU! 💦
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I wanted to try writing from his POV so I hope this is okay. It follows on directly from the onsen piece which is here ⬇️
Very NSFW under the cut. Jerking off, accidentally edging, overstimulation, giving Giyuu a BJ and a LOT of whimpering.
This was fun!
BATHING WITH GIYUU- Part 2 💦
You've always been good at relieving Giyuu's tension. Your laughter makes his soul feel a little lighter, and you're never actually laughing at him, which is in itself refreshing. 
That's why he may or may not have specifically requested Master Ubuyashiki send you to accompany him on his last few missions. That and you're capable, strong, and, if he's honest… you make his heart feel a little warmer. And he likes your smile. He likes it a lot, actually.
The onsen incident was mortifying but you don't seem bothered by it, which is a miracle to him. He thought for sure you'd scream and call him a pervert. 
He grits his teeth as he stands in the room the two of you will share for the night. You two regularly sleep around the same campfire and this should feel no different. Except it does, and Giyuu can't quite put a finger on why.
He's a mess, he knows he is. He had been painfully hard just at the sight of you in a yukata, knowing you had nothing on beneath it. The fact that you got into the hot spring with him, naked, was almost too much.
And you're still outside, soaking in the spring… still naked…
His chest tightens and he slides his futon a little further from yours and tried to ignore his still hard, still aching cock. But even standing, his yukata is tenting.
Jaw clenching, he sighs. He can't walk around hard the whole evening… the second you get out of the onsen and walk into the room you're going to notice it. 
Glancing outside to make sure you're still soaking in the hot spring and he has time to take care of his situation, his breath catches in his throat. There you are, relaxed, resting your head back against the rocks, eyes closed in a state of pure bliss… and raised up enough that he can see the tops of your breasts again, wet and flushed from the warm bath. 
His hand is around his cock before he can stop himself. 
He turns away, cheeks burning as he strokes himself, his grip tight and his pace brutal. He needs to get this over with fast. It somehow makes it less shameful in his mind if he keeps his back to you. There's a small mirror hanging low on the wall which is meant to be knelt in front of, but it gives him a perfect view of his cock in his fist.
A grunt escapes his tightly pressed lips as his pleasure increases and a pressure builds at the base of his cock. He reaches his left hand into the opening of his yukata and strokes his nipple as he keeps jerking his dick. His eyes close, his lips curl into a snarl as he keeps up the brutal pace.
"Need some help?" 
His heart lunges as he hears your voice at his back and he tries to cover himself. There's nothing he can say, no way of getting out of this— wait, what?
"Help?"  He doesn't even dare to turn around. 
Goosebumps pebble across his skin as you walk closer
"Yeah," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "Do you want it?"
His mind is firing off a million feelings a second, a tangled mess of wants, desires, embarrassment… and one which pushes to the front, giving him a moment's courage.
He nods. 
His breath catches as your hand reaches around him, into the opening of his yukata and closes around his cock. He has to lean back against you to stop his knees buckling as a breathy moan escapes him.
His eyes go to that low-down mirror, watching as your hand strokes his dick; your grip softer, slower, and gentler than he ever does it. In fact you're so soft and gentle after his brutal, numbing strokes, he's fairly sure he's not going to cum. But just the sensation of having your hands on him is… it's bliss. And it's really happening.
You slide your thumb up and down over his slit, spreading his precum and making him gasp.
"Lie down, Giyuu," you whisper in his ear. "Let me take care of you."
A startled grunt emerges from him but he does as you ask, lying back on the futon as you lower yourself to kneel between his knees. His brain isn't quite caught up yet when you first wrap your lips around his cock and a choked whimper bursts from his lips. 
His cheeks are glowing red as he puts his head back and covers his eyes with his forearm. Nothing, nothing has ever felt as good as your hot, wet tongue licking the underside of his throbbing cock. All his hashira training, all his breathing techniques and meditative composure goes out the window as he bucks his hips and thrusts into your mouth. 
"Ngggh…" *he grits his teeth as his toes curl. "More. More."
You oblige. It goes on and on and on, your tongue swirling around his aching cock as he gasps and tries to stifle his moans with the back of his hand. 
God, if only he hadn't jerked his dick so brutally, he would've cum by now, but he's somehow managed to accidentally turn this into an excruciatingly delicious edging session because the world can't give the poor man a goddam break.
You take him as deep as you can, sucking and licking his cock, caressing his balls and he still can't cum. He digs his heels into the futon, hearing the fabric tear a little as his muscles tense, seeking release.
"P-please. Don't stop."
He tries everything, bucking up into your mouth to set the pace, but you only put your arm over his hips and hold him down. The entire bathhouse can probably hear his whimpers now. For a man who doesn't talk much, he definitely makes up for it. 
He whines when you have to give your jaw a break and you switch to using your hands instead. It's torture and he loves it. The head of his cock is dark and aching against your soft hands and he watches you with heavy, broken breaths. You're not trying to edge him, but he's so close and so painfully far.
Every breath is ragged now and accompanied by a desperate moan as you keep stroking him softly. His cheeks and chest are pink and gleaming with sweat.
"Don't stop. Don't… please… keep… nggh…" he's finally close. So close. His lip curls, baring his teeth as he reaches down and puts his hands around yours, keeping them still as his legs shake and his cock finally, finally spurts. "Ohh~ ffff–" 
He lays there, panting for breath as the world comes back into focus and he realizes what just happened. His eyes widen before he looks down his body at you. You're both still holding his cock, and that smile of yours, which has always been so comforting to him, plays across your lips. And as always, your smile coaxes out his own. 
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