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The thing about being married is that after a period of time, the fire settles down to a little sizzle.
Sometimes it barely flickers, the heat every now and then accentuated by a crackle of oil being tossed to the flame. It comes in the form of many things, such as your spouse’s returns back to the Tomioka estate and the way he slots his lips against yours. Sure, he is rarely home to spend actual time with you, but the time spent together is all that matters.
Sometimes you are a little bit thankful that he doesn’t spend that much time with you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you think to yourself when you hear other wives in the markets chattering about how tired they’re growing of their husbands. You had wondered at the time if that would ever be the case for your relationship once your spouse retires, but every time you eat dinner by yourself, you can’t think of anything besides whether or not he is alright.
You try and wonder what dinner he is having, because that’s a better daydream than waiting for a crow to tell you that he had fallen in his last mission.
You would offer incense and pray daily for your husband to return to you in one way or another, and that were he to fall in battle, he would at least return to your arms in a coffin. There had been so many other spouses who didn’t even have the luxury of receiving any remaining body part of their fallen spouse.
After all, you believe in your husband.
He hadn’t reached the ranking that he’s at for nothing.
Tomioka Giyuu is one of the strongest, if not the strongest.
(When you had told him that, he had simply looked at you with that nondescript expression on his placid features. The man didn’t confirm or deny any of it, but with the way his fingers gave yours the lightest squeeze, you know that he had been flattered by your words.)
And you definitely don’t enjoy thinking of the others who had fallen at the same rank.
“What’s gotten into you?” You laugh breathlessly, caught between reaching for the collar of his robes for balance. “Not that I mind, but–”
The man doesn’t offer you a verbal response, not with the way that his lips are on yours and fingers interlacing with your own.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes from your mouth, only for it to be muffled when his tongue runs wetly over yours. Giving his own hands a squeeze, you shudder against his warm body, resisting the urge to let out a premature moan. God, it’s been so long since he had last kissed you like this and you’ve been long overdue for being pressed up against the wall.
Although your spouse has always had the penchant for being a bit shy and awkward in and out of the bedroom, you’ve had enough experience in dealing with him to know what works best.
Sure, the marriage had been put together by Oyakata-sama to ensure the man’s bloodline, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a good match. After all, you had known him even before the engagement, and it would be a lie if both of you hadn’t caught each other’s eyes.
No, Ubuyashiki had chosen you both and hadn’t failed either of you in the union. Besides, the both of you had immediately caught each other's eye the first time you had met before. It;s just that his master had to step in, because neither of you would do anything about the sheer attraction that you felt for each other. Blame it on Shinazugawa for complaining to Ubuyashiki for the nth time, begging him to do something about Tomioka.
Certainly, you had known what you had been getting yourself into, along with the fact that you may have a loveless marriage but–
– but you had fallen in love with him.
With his gentle touches, tender moments of silent affection, and sweet gifts as tokens of his appreciation for you, how could you not?
Sure, he isn’t the most extroverted individual, but you had that covered for him. You are the significantly more outgoing one, stepping in for him when he needed more support. He is the one who steps in for the both of you when you need more legal and physical protection in any way possible, and a warm comfort to hold you when you need someone to lean on.
Except currently, you can’t exactly place who is leaning against what as he slides you up against the wall. As he hoists you up, your robes loosen up when your legs wrap around his waist, calloused hands propping up against your thighs. There’s a wet click when the both of you separate from each other’s mouths, a string of saliva webbing your kiss-swollen lips to his own glossy ones.
“What’s gotten into you, love?”
Your grin is wiped from your features, hands settling onto his shoulders when he pulls you away from the cold wall. There’s a lump in your throat as each bounce of his step rubs your front against the very prominent bulge hidden behind thick swathes of fabric. You know he’s hard, that he’s been as wanting as you are for the physical touch that you both share behind closed doors. It’s just different with how aggressive he suddenly is with you, wanting and taking and demanding.
You’ve wanted, needed your husband for so many lonely nights – how could you say no?
“I need it,” he responds, somehow deciding halfway to the bedroom that he can’t exactly wait anymore.
Your back is against the wall once again as he settles you down onto your feet.
“Giyuu-san!” You gasp out when he lifts a portion of your robes upwards, fingers seeking out your heat. Although you’re wet enough as is, he brings his hand back to spit on it, fingertips running once more over your pink folds. It’s rough and uncoordinated with how three of his lengthy fingers make their way into your pulsing cunt.
“G–”
Your words are muffled with a kiss from your husband, your own hands gripping onto his collar as his tongue rubs insistently against your own pink one. There’s a moan lost somewhere into the nasty tangle of spit and wet muscle as he works your pussy open for just a little bit. You’re too distracted, too dedicated to the way he’s kissing you that you don’t even notice when he fishes out his cock, hard and heavy and thick and already leaking precum.
He doesn’t even tease.
He isn’t the type to, and you’ve figured this out after a little over a year of marriage. At least he’s prepped you, because as he leads the fat tip to your entrance, you pull away from the kiss in a knee-jerk response. And how couldn’t you? It’s so wide that you have to force yourself to relax, because him fingering you for a scant amount of time isn’t enough, even if he had added a fourth finger into your pussy.
“Look at me,” he demands, cold blue eyes demanding your utmost attention and resolve as he feeds inch after burning inch into your hastily-prepared cunt. You can’t help the way your eyes close, brows furrowing as you desperately attempt to relax.
His other hand makes its way to your hair, gripping firmly enough to keep your attention as you stare up at him.
“I said ,” he hisses out, voice on the edge of threatening. “ Look at me .”
At this angle, you have to be on your tippy toes to accommodate the way that he’s pushing into you insistently. Fingers in his robes, you grasp and tug, fighting back a whimper as you hold his gaze while he holds you firmly in his grasp. It’s so difficult, too difficult even as you feel every vein running along the sides of the man’s large cock.
He pulls out a little, just to push more of himself back into you.
“I– Please, my lord, I can’t– Too big–”
The man pauses, and although it’s what you need, it isn’t what you want. You quiver in his embrace, caught between wanting to demand him to continue and also asking what your body needs.
He looks down at you, placid eyes reading your face before leaning in to press a kiss to the creased spot between your brows.
“Continue,” you say breathlessly, leaning against the wall. “Please.”
Your husband wastes little to no time as he reaches down, one muscular arm hooking under your knee to help with the angle. Inhaling sharply, you do your utmost to remain calm and relaxed, balancing your weight onto the foot planted onto the ground.
“I won’t let you fall,” he tells you, the other arm supporting you and keeping you grounded.
“Yes, I–” You pause, toes curling in your split socks as he pushes in more of his hot, throbbing cock into you. “--I know you won’t.”
You want to say something witty to diffuse the tension between the both of you because his face is so serious and inches away from you. It should be too much because how can you maintain the eye contact he’s demanding when he’s slowly pushing more and more of him into you?
You’ve needed, wanted him for so long that you feel like a string stretched too taut between either ends of a longbow. Seconds away from snapping, the threads lashing you in the face. Inhaling sharply through your nostrils, your fingers clutch harder into the fabric of his clothes, knuckles shades significantly whiter than the rest of your soft skin.
“Giyuu-san–”
“Yes. Yes .”
Any other words and thoughts are forgotten when he leans in, lips pressing against yours to muffle possible sounds. Your body tenses, moaning against his mouth as he manages to shove himself almost completely into you. With the angle and position that the both of you are in, it’s almost impossible, but fuck does it feel so good.
“ Mmmfth –!”
The pace he begins isn’t rough, but it’s definitely enough to make you hiccup on air.
Sure, he may have not done enough to properly prepare your cunt for him to fill up, but you’re already leaking around him. Each slide out proves that you’re more than ready to have taken him the moment he had arrived back on the estate. You’re so w–
“So wet,” he breathes out, pupils significantly larger than earlier. “So wet for your husband.”
You feel yourself too, a trickle of your arousal tickling down in a wet streak to your inner thigh. It should be embarrassing, and your cheeks are dusted with the faintest tinge of red, but you can’t find it in yourself to deny the sensation that is giving you.
Each slide in and out sends tingling sensations licking along your spine, and coupled with the expression in his half-lidded eyes, it only serves to add heat into the pit of your stomach.
The man fucking you looks as though he isn’t anywhere close to breaking a sweat. He has that same, characteristic expression of calm and detachment on his handsome face. If not for the soft puffs of breath escaping him and his blown pupils, nothing else would betray his expression.
Just in the same way that he’s practically just pulled his cock out in the hallway to shove it into your sex.
“Giyuu,” you breathe out, saliva-slick lips parting before leaning in to touch a soft kiss to your husband’s mouth.
Such a gentle movement that elicits something deep in the recesses of the animalistic side of his brain.
“Mm.”
You gasp, breath catching on gravel as he snaps his hips hard against yours, shoving in a bit more of his cock into you. The leg planted on the ground twitches, the other trembling in his grip at the action.
It’s so big in you, and every thrust he gives pulls out a wet squelching noise from your clenching pussy. The ridged glans constantly rubs against your walls, but just briefly and lightly against that spot that sends stars orbiting you overhead. It’s not enough, you need him to push it in deeper, harder against that spongy bundle of nerves. You can’t just get off so easily without any other stimulation when he’s just fucking you like th–
“Oh, Giyuu-san–!”
Gasping, you lean your head back with a soft thump against the wall when he presses you up against it further. The arm previously around your waist jams between both of your bodies, thumb rubbing insistent circles around your throbbing clit.
You gasp, moaning and writhing. It’s of no use, your body unable to wiggle free as you’re caught between the firm muscles of your husband’s chest and the cold wall behind you. You have no escape here, subjected to pleasure at the touch of ’s calloused skin against your sensitive nerves and his cock spreading your cunt open.
“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, tears pooling a bit in your eyes. Inhaling wetly, you turn your head to the side out of habit, unable to properly focus as he’s stimulating you closer and closer to the edge.
Leaning in, he plants his lips to your neck, sucking and biting that area there. You know he’ll be leaving marks, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s fucking you harder, deeper.
“I know,” he responds breathily against your skin, and you know he’s close too. “Say my name.”
You swallow down hard, arms wrapping around him in an attempt to pull him closer and yet push him away. But he holds you tighter, fucking you faster and thumb circling your clit faster.
“Giyuu-san– Giyuu–”
The possible scream that would have left you dies in your throat as the orgasm washes over you with an overwhelming intensity, body trembling as you choke on his name. It’s so much and you feel so much with his large cock fucking in and out of your tight hole.
“Ah–”
You gasp out his name again, back arching off the wall as he continues to thrust in and out of your fluttering entrance. He groans, half-growling against your skin as your orgasm milks his own out of him, hot cum spurting deep into your pussy as he moves his hips, riding out both your climaxes.
As you whimper, body trying to slowly recover through the aftershocks of the little death he had given you, he presses a kiss to your temple and cheek.
“-san,” you breathe out, resting your forehead onto his shoulder before yelping as he gathers you in his arms. “–!”
Cock still wedged in your cum-leaking pussy, he pulls you away from the wall.
—-
“And one last thing.”
The black-haired man pauses, looking up from the tatami mat.
The rest of the Hashira at the meeting also glance over at their master, who has that same serene, relaxed expression on his kind face.
Every Slayer gathered at the meeting hangs onto the silence that lays like midsummer humidity in the air. They must, after all, cling to every syllable that leaves the Oyakata-sama’s mouth. It may as well be the last they’d hear from him, the last they’d hear from each other.
“Kiss your loved ones goodbye tonight.”
The Water Hashira’s knuckles turn white.
—-
Although he had fucked you wildly up against the wall with minimal preparation, the man manages to set you down gently onto the futon that the housekeepers had set in advance.
“Look at you,” he breathes out, admiring your cunt speared by the girth of his cock, tracing the stretch your lips have done to make space for him.
As you tremble beneath him, his brows lift just a little, and you could swear you can see the faintest twitch of his lips.
You look down to where his attention is, face heating up tenfold as you swallow down.
Because of the angle he’s got you in, with you on your back and legs spread open wide, there’s the faint bulge in your lower abdomen. It has your breath stilling in your lungs, fingers loosely gripping onto the sheets out of wonderment and awe. He’s so big inside you, and you can’t help but reach down to pet the area, wondering about the rest of his cock that he hadn’t fully fit inside you earlier.
The man definitely can now. What with the better position he has you in and the fact that you’ve done it before, you know that he can do it again. The very thought makes you clench a bit around the thickness in you, eliciting the softest of grunts from your husband as you look up at him, hand over your lower stomach.
“Giyuu-san, please?”
His eyes lock onto yours, one large hand resting over the one you have over the bulge. Something warm blooms in your cheeks, neck, chest, heart in the daydream that you have of your belly growing larger because his seed had taken root in your womb. You taking your husband’s roughened palm to rest over where your child is kicking.
Your heart swells, throat contracting as you look up at him.
Taking your other hand as well, he interlocks his fingers with yours and pins them on either side of your head.
“Please.”
For all of his quietness and lack of emotion, the man has never made you truly wait.
Sure, you do wait for him and want for him constantly.
But the few times you’ve dropped a hint about a hair ornament you wanted, he would get it for you. The times you had so much as glanced at a kimono on a storefront display, he had gotten you several colors of that one design. When you had once mentioned that you enjoyed watermelon, he had requested several from Genya’s garden.
He doesn’t make you wait.
The man definitely doesn’t take his time to shift forward and slam the rest of cock into your aching cunt.
“Giyuu-san–!” You cry out, grasping his hand in yours as your back arches off the soft give of the futon beneath you. “So full…”
He’s so deep inside you, heavy and hot inside your cunt that’s leaking out a sinful mixture of your arousal and your husband’s seed. The fat tip of his penis is wedged in so deep, pressed flush against your cervix and threatening to defy your body’s biology with how big he is.
“ Tight ,” he hisses out.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you’re praying to no one and nothing really in particular, body unsure as to whether you should pull away from him with how deep he is in you and how much you want him to fuck you again.
The man’s hands leave yours to settle on your waist, leaning in to plant kisses along the side of your already-bruised neck. Like a leaf in the wind, you tremble underneath him, enjoying the feeling of your husband’s attention on your body as he gives you a firm squeeze.
Then he starts to move.
“Oh, god… Giyuu…”
It isn’t as rushed as earlier up against the wall, as though that episode had merely been done to take the edge off. No, this time it’s slower, deeper in you as he only pulls halfway, making sure to slide in completely each time.
Although you try to reach for him, his hands move to your clothes, loosening up your robes so that there’s more of his body that he can see, touch. You do your best to assist as he continues to thrust into your leaking pussy, arms shaking as you pull them out from the holes of your silk robes. It doesn’t take long for him to push you back down again, planting kisses along your clavicle. Calloused hands grasp and squeeze at your tits, pushing them together before licking. He takes his own sweet time between your two peaked nipples, pink tongue swirling and pearly whites lightly biting.
Your fingers weave into his messy black locks, tight grip keeping him in place as your thighs clamp around his sides.
“Ngh– Feels so good,” you whisper out, eyes fluttering shut as he continues to fuck his heavy cock in and out of your cunt. “You feel so good inside me, so deep… so deep in me…”
You feel the remnants of his cum starting to slip out and between your ass cheeks, and you know he knows it too, even if he can’t see. So he lets go of your tits with a huff, hands propping under your thighs to remove them from his waist, pressing your knees to your chest. The action forces your hips upwards a bit, preventing his cum from escaping too easily from you but also making you take more of his veiny cock.
“Giyuu–!” You squeal, shaking beneath him and sobbing as the fat tip rubs up against that damned spot in the exact way that you had desperately wanted earlier.
The Hashira keeps you in that position as he moves forward, your legs over his shoulders.
The mating press he has you in is so tight, your cunt clamping like a vice around him. It’s allowing him to go in so deep, his strong lower legs allowing him to drive his cock in and out of you with such intensity that it punches the air out of your chest in small wheezes.
“So big,” you groan out, sounding almost like a wounded animal with how your body is afforded such bliss from him. “You’re so– so big in me, Giyuu-san… Feel so good… Stuffing me so g– Ah -! Ngh, Giy– , oh my god –!”
You scream out, trembling under him as your words bring out the animal in him. He fucks you wildly, your talking creating a fire in him that he had been stifling for so long.
“I need to cum in you,” he grits out. “I need to cum in you again . Until you’re full, until you’re heavy with my child.”
You don’t realize that there are tears from how thoroughly he’s fucking you until he pulls away. It’s because you open your eyes, vision blurry and moisture webbing between your lashes, gaze all sort of glassy as you look up at your husband.
—
“What are you talking about, you dolt,” the white-haired man scoffs, not even bothering to look up from where he’s sharpening his swords. “You’re gonna come home, you hear? You’re all coming home, back to your loved ones. It’ll be one loud, happy reunion. Don’t worry about it.”
Tomioka Giyuu is silent, eyes trained on the other Hashira.
Shinazugawa sighs heavily.
“Ask Tengen’s wives. I’m sure they’ll all take care of her.”
When Tomioka doesn’t respond, the white-haired man huffs angrily, glaring daggers at him.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare ask me. If I survive, you survive too, got it? You’re not entrusting your wife to me. I got my own to deal with when I get back.”
The black-haired man releases a sigh he didn’t realize he had been holding.
If they fail, then all their loved ones die anyway. That’s a fact. They don’t know what the day after tomorrow will bring, if there is one after all of this. But talking about who will care for whose dear relatives brings some form of peace to their souls.
There is no real, true ranking for each Hashira’s strength. Each of them shone in their own way and there could be no actual method to gauge how much stronger, more dextrous one of them is against their counterpart.
But Tomioka Giyuu has always respected the white-haired man. Shinazugawa did as well, although he definitely showed his appreciation and respect for the Water Hashira in a more brusque, tactless way.
Tomioka knows that there is a bigger chance of the Wind Hashira surviving. It puts him at ease, knowing his wife would be alright and safe.
“Thank you, Shinazugawa-san.”
—
“Cum in me, Giyuu-san,” you breathe out, reaching up to pull him down. Your fingers pull his hair tie away, his thick black locks cascading. He looks beautiful like this, obsidian tresses framing his handsome face. “Let me give you a baby.”
His blue eyes widen at that, pupils increasing in size.
A scream leaves you as he fucks you harder, barely pulling out to shove his cock back into you. His balls slap against your tailbone in rapid succession, heavy and plump and ready to release yet another load into your ripe cunt.
“Yes, oh god, you feel s– so good, Giyuuu-san, please,” you pant out, hand moving to the back of his neck, nails scraping against the tender skin there. “I want your babies, please– let me– I want t– I want to give you a son, please– so deep, oh god– so deep–!”
He fucks you with such a brutal pace that you have to clench your jaws to keep yourself from biting your tongue off.
Hard, fast, rough.
The man is barely removing his cock from your wet cunt, eager to grind and destroy and claim your pussy like he should have on your wedding night. A far cry from that momentous occasion, all soft and awkward touches with your newly-minted spouse being afraid that you would break.
And now, as your jaw relaxes to allow a desperate wail from your kiss-swollen lips, he fucks you like he wants to break you.
You’ve seen the Hashira practice.
In fact, there’s a solid portion of the garden that’s dedicated to your husband’s training. His own little area, complete with all the equipment he would need for the time.
Even in the general training grounds that the other Hashira share and also train some other lower-ranked Slayers, you’ve seen him work. Like the namesake of his fighting techniques, he moves fluidly and yet erratically.
Strong, elegant, and unpredictable.
A fierce warrior and a terror to demons who wrought the very same thing to innocents.
And he fucks you with just the same tenacity you know he shows on the battlefield.
In the angle that you’re in, thighs framing your tits and ankles close to his ears, there’s very little that you can do besides take his cock. But what you do accomplish is stare up at him in a sense of wonderment and awe. It’s so much, too much even with how he’s viciously pummeling your insides.
It’s getting to him now, too.
Compared to earlier with you pressed up against the wall, he had his regular placid expression.
Now, you get to enjoy the crease between his brows, lips parted as he slowly allows himself to succumb to pleasure. He looks beautiful, and knowing that you’ve slowly unraveled him like this adds some sense of pride in your chest. This gorgeous man is yours, all yours.
“Please, Giyuu-san.”
“Yes,” he breathes out, leaning in to plant a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Yes, my wife.”
When has he ever kept you waiting?
So he hilts his large cock completely, eliciting a shriek against his lips as he grinds himself into your cunt. It stimulates you up and beyond the confines of your physical being, the action rubbing his skin against clit in a way that has you sobbing and gasping into the kiss.
You cum with much difficulty.
Not in the way that it’s hard for you to reach your climax, no. In fact, it happens quickly.
What is difficult is that he doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop rubbing himself against you as the waves of your bliss crashes all around your being. It’s so much, robbing you of speech and thought as your mouth disconnects from his, lips parted in a silent scream as you feel the pulsing rush of pleasure spike and destroy you from the inside and out.
Some time later, when you’re more sentient, you would swear that you blacked out for a second.
But for now, you’re crashing back to earth, plummeting back to consciousness with such a force that you’re screaming because– because he’s plunging his cock back in you.
“Giyuu–! I–! Oh, god, it’s– so much ,” you’re sobbing out, fingernails scrabbling and clawing at the skin stretched over thick shoulders. “S-So much, oh–”
The man is grunting now, sweat beading like a glimmering sheet across his forehead as he drives himself tip to root with each fell swoop into your cunt.
It is too much, really, your nerves like the frayed ends of a recently-snapped cord, now on fire with how he’s fucking you so deep, so rough. It’s so much, your body overstimulated to no end as he fucks you with the base need of using you to fill up. He wants your body to know that you belong to him, to him alone and no one else.
He fucks you like he wants to impregnate you, to leave you with a trace of him until it takes hold in your womb.
And that’s exactly what he is going to do.
Your pussy clenches so hard around him, eliciting a growl so deep from him that it frightens you a bit.
“Breathe,” the man urges, demands of you.
Calloused hands cup your face, thumb brushing away moisture you hadn’t realized escaped your eyes. The action is so soft, tender in contrast with how ferociously he is fucking you. It touches something in you, knowing that amidst his animalistic actions, he still is there to hold and kiss and be gentle with you.
“ Breathe , wife.”
So you listen to your husband obediently, breathing in to calm your body. It manages to a little bit, the intake of air soothing and petting at your frazzled nerves as he continues to use your body like his own personal little toy. And with how pliant you are, so soft and willing for a husband that barely manages to spend time with you, how could you resist or disobey?
“Good,” he says, planting a kiss to your forehead before interlacing his fingers over your crown. “Good girl .”
You resist the urge to whimper, so you close your eyes to focus on the way the oxygen finds its home in your lungs and escapes in the form of your husband’s name.
Giyuu fucks you like he means it, and he does .
His previous cum and your arousal is not leaking out of you at this point, and how could it? It’s practically impossible with how he’s practically ramming his girth into your cunt vertically. All his viscous seed is kept in there, simply jamming in further and escaping in what’s basically frothy bubbles from how he’s churning your silky pink insides.
You feel it trickle down the cleft of your ass and your constant breathing stutters as his hips kick it up a notch, again barely pulling out as he wrecks your pussy in quick shots. Once again, the action brings you close to the teetering edge of pleasure, your body spasming in protest of yet another overwhelming flash of ecstasy.
The slick sound of him shaping your insides fills your shared bedroom. It’s so loud, so wet, and you would be consumed with shame if you had a few more conscious thoughts in your head besides being stretched wide around him.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes ,” he hisses out, eyes widening before he shoves himself so deep into you that you scream out in shock, the thick head pressing against your cervix each time.
It sends ripples of shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your abdomen, your body naturally reacting to unnatural intrusion that’s lodged in your guts. You squirm and sob, trying to wrench free from his hold, but he has you stuck fast below his muscular body, just there for him to take until he’s done with you.
“! , please– oh, please, oh God– You’re gonna make me–” You choke on your own saliva, the liquid dripping from the corner of your mouth as your eyes roll back in their sockets. “ You’re –!”
Another tidal wave of pleasure and pain crashes over you, dragging you deep beneath the depths of carnality. Your lungs are filled once more with oxygen as he continues to fuck you through it, growls and snarls escaping his clenched teeth before he shoves so far into you that you feel he would never leave your pussy.
Fat cockhead pressed flush against the deepest wall of your cunt, you sob out, walls pulsing and his girth throbbing in you. u groans out your name as though in pain, gasping and grinding his hips against your own. A sob escapes you, tears slipping down your cheeks in steady streams as you feel liquid heat spraying against your sensitive insides, painting your cervix white, stuffing you even fuller than he had earlier.
You could cry. You feel so full, so complete, almost ready to burst at the seams with how much he had filled you.
The man is still groaning out your name, forehead resting against yours as he empties himself out into your abused sex. Beneath him, you’re panting, fingers shakily wrapping around his wrists as your walls continue to milk him dry. It’s so much, so much cum and you still feel his balls twitch against your ass with how much he is filling you up. You’re still caught up in the aftershocks of your orgasm, stomach quivering at the angle that he has you in and the internal pressure in your guts.
Your ears are ringing, vision still white as you sightlessly reach out for your husband.
Giyuu is panting, still quietly murmuring your name as he very gently eases up the compact angle that he has on both your hips. Hands carefully lowering your legs, your sore ass makes contact with the silkiness of the sheets beneath you two, a hiss escaping your lips at the relief.
Both of your breaths remain quite shaky, hands mapping out each other’s body slowly in gentle turns and movements.
It isn’t until you feel a pair of lips pressing to your forehead and cheek that you can slowly comprehend everything a bit better, vision back in your eyes, ears no longer ringing, and nerves less aggravated.
“Are you alright?” He asks, voice parched as though traveling in the heat of the desert at midday. “Are you hurt?”
You open your mouth, a hoarse sound escaping, and you can’t help the laugh that leaves you. The man had made you scream so much that you sound funny now, so it isn’t until you’ve managed to catch your breath for the nth time that you can actually speak. In the meantime, your husband looks at you with concern on his face, pink still on his cheeks from basking in the remnants of his pleasure. You find that even more laughable, so you continue, tears running down your face as your spouse looks at you as though he has somehow broken not only your cunt, but also your brain.
“I’m fine,” you respond, looking at him with a tired-yet-satisfied smile on your face.
When you reach up to brush a handful of his sweaty bangs from his face, he takes your wrist in his fingers to kiss over your knuckles.
“You didn’t answer my question.” When he simply lifts a brow at your words, you continue your speculation and concern. “I asked you earlier what had gotten into you. You’re usually not this… well… rough .”
Your husband slowly pulls your hand from his lips, fingers interlacing with yours as he blinks down at you with wide eyes. Worry is etched all across the man’s face.
“My apologies. I won’t do it again–”
“No!” You say immediately, squeezing his thick hand in your smaller one. “That’s. That’s not what I meant.”
Pink colors you from your collarbones to the roots of your hair in embarrassment. Yes, you just admitted that you wanted him to do it again. Maybe not anytime soon with how ruined your cunt is from his endeavors, but you’d want him to be like this again.
“I enjoyed it, I’m just worried about you . Is everything alright, Giyuu-san?”
Your husband is a man of thousand silent platitudes and anxieties that never reach the surface. All calculations and hypotheticals in his mind that rarely are expressed by his handsome features. While he never withholds any information from you, especially with the post that comes in with his old raven, you know that there is much weight on his shoulders to bear.
Sometimes you feel sorry for him, having to handle not only his career and the lives at stake, but also caring for you upon his return from each mission. Of course, you do your utmost to provide affection and love and tender embraces for your husband. A respite amidst his own countless insecurities that whirl in his head like a school of fish in a whirlpool. With him in your embrace, his head on your lap while you sit in the shade of an awning or on a bench in the town with a stick of grilled chicken, Tomioka Giyuu always finds respite in your presence.
He always feels safe with you, like he can put his anxieties and self-doubts to bed. They will never leave him, the ghosts of his past always whispering his consciousness into a state of overthinking. But in your arms, his cock buried in you and his lips pressing sweetly to your sweaty forehead, the voices are asleep.
And yet.
Yet now, anxiety trickles in yet again like tea leaves in a sieve.
His sweet oasis in the desert, now distubed by his own worries about the future.
Your hands cupping his cheeks brings him out of his reverie, and he sighs.
Your husband tells you everything after he’s adjusted your positions so that he’s lying beneath you with him on top.
With everything that he explains to you, you feel fear seep into your system like a poison, one that you desperately try to swallow. It’s terrifying. While you’ve accepted that each time you bid your husband farewell may as well be the last, you can’t get used to the feeling that he would never return.
So you listen to him, eagerly hanging to each syllable that he utters.
When he finishes, you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, his arm tightening a bit around your waist. There’s a quiet sigh of resignation that leaves him, eyes fluttering shut to enjoy the peace that he’s offered with you in his embrace.
This is what he lives for, and this is what he’s willing to die for.
The Water Hashira cups your cheek with one hand before kissing you chastely on the lips.
“Shall I prepare your favorite salmon for your return, my husband?”
There’s a smile on his face.
Your bravery shows in different ways, including your ability to calm both of you down even in situations like these. You know your husband is strong, perhaps the strongest of his counterparts. You believe in him and know that your Giyuu will always return.
Fuck.
You’re terrified, but god will you work hard to make sure that he doesn’t have to worry about you too. The last thing you want is to create another burden for him to shoulder.
So he kisses you in response to your lighthearted attempt to alleviate the fear that hangs heavy in the air.
It’s sweet and slow, his hand caressing and gently rubbing against your achy lower back. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, pussy involuntarily clenching around his spent cock. He groans at the feeling, inhaling sharply at the feeling. When he pulls away from your lips with a tiny audible click, you find yourself looking at his familiar blue eyes.
“Giyuu-san?”
“...yes?”
You lick your lips, and his quick glance towards them does not escape you.
“What you also said earlier…”
“...”
“Did you really intend on getting me pregnant?”
The man opens his mouth to say something before closing it. There’s a small huff that escapes his nostrils before he inhales. Nodding, he presses his lips into a thin line. You reach up a bit to kiss the corner of his mouth several times until he gives in and reciprocates in kind.
“If you wish for it too.”
Nosing along the side of his neck, you plant a tiny kiss to the corner of his sharp jaw. Another press of your lips against that soft spot beneath his ear, smiling against his skin at the slightest shiver that you feel on him.
“Get me pregnant, then,” you tell him, voice soft.
You feel him twitch in you; he shivers beneath you once more.
“Let me carry your child, my love.”
Yelping at the sudden feeling of his warm cock leaving your plugged up hole, you are left to scramble as you’re rearranged suddenly on your hands and knees.
“Oh,” you chuckle, a little nervous at the sound of your husband behind you, slick sounds pointing to the fact that he’s likely stroking himself to hardness.
Clenching, you try to keep the cum from leaking. After all, he had worked you so hard to milk him and stuff you, and with both of you wanting a child, you’re not about to risk it. So you balance your weight onto your knees and one palm, your other hand reaching behind you.
Fingers push into your hole in an attempt to plug it in, but it’s a double-edged sword. As your husband watches, enraptured, you look at him over your shoulder. He’s staring at your three fingers pushing into your small cunt, already eager to take in anything. There’s a hoarse sound that he makes, lips parting as he watches you spread your pussy lips, his seed trickling down.
The man moves forward, cock now fully hard.
Your thigh muscles twitch as he uses the tip to wipe up the cum that threatens to fall onto the sheets, the ridged glans bumping against your clit. The grip you have on the sheets tighten, pulling at the edges when he guides himself to your sloppy entrance.
The slide in is exquisite, body already thrumming in pleasure.
Although it isn’t all at once, you luxuriate in the feeling of his cock sliding into you. The feeling makes your eye twitch a little, lips parting and breaths coming in soft pants already. You’re still just a touch sensitive after him having made you cum a couple of times, but goodness does the feeling of him in you make you feel so… so satisfied.
It isn’t until he’s fully sheathed himself in you, tip pressed against your cervix once more that he leans in, one hand tilting your face so he can kiss you sweetly.
There’s the softest click of lips against lips as he leaves you kiss after kiss, fingers gentle and soft. You feel so full in many ways, beating heart swelling in your ribcage and pussy fluttering around the cock that’s spearing you open.
“C’mon, husband,” you murmur against his lips, grinding your ass against him. The other hand he has on your hip tightens, but you can only laugh as you flick your tongue against the seam of his mouth. “Fuck a baby into m–”
Your eyes widen as he does exactly that.
Whatever respite he had given you with the slow sinking of his cock into your still sopping-wet pussy and the gentle kiss has been a complete lie.
As he pulls away from your lips, both hands now on your waist, you can’t find it in yourself to complain.
“Ohhhhh, so–”
You’re at a loss for words, any coherent sentences lost on your tongue as he fucks mindless sounds out from your throat.
“-- big !”
Fabric bunches in your grip as you keep yourself upright, Giyuu slamming into you over and over again. The impact sends you jolting forward, and you would have practically flown off if not for the steadying grip he has on your upper body.
“Mngh, yes, yes –”
You’ll regret this later, you know.
Your husband has only ever seen you as the picture of grace, well-kept and well-mannered. Rarely a hair out of place, save for the times when you wake up in the morning, which is understandable. Giyuu wakes up with his thick hair all frizzy and poking in every which way.
But now?
Just an animal, rutting back against her mate.
Maybe you could blame it on missing your Giyuu so much, or maybe it’s something in his actions that had just unlocked a whole new level that he had never seen before. You had known that you were capable of this, holing yourself up in your shared room on nights that he was gone, one hand cradling a pornographic novel and the other in between your legs.
Many a lonely night you had craved and wondered and wanted for your husband to take the place of the protagonists in your filthy novels. You had daydreamed of fantasies where your husband would take you like the closeted whore you wanted to be for him, to fulfill whatever base, carnal need he desired from your fertile body.
So much of your system needed him in you, on you, around you.
You wanted him filling every cavity you had in every way, filling you so much of himself that you’d be keeping a part of him until his return. It’s what you needed, what you craved. His fingers carding through your hair, lips on yours, your chest pressed against his muscular one, dick pistoning in you like a madman.
This is what you want.
Which is exactly why he’s fucking you thoroughly, eyes trained on the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each brutalizing slam of his narrow hips.
“Yes, take it,” he hisses, balls tensing up a bit when your cunt involuntarily clenches around him. “Take it like the good wife you are.”
“Yes, please– Oh, god– Giyuu-san– G–” You stammer out your husband’s name, drool hanging off your lower lip and swinging in time with each slide of him into your sopping wet twat. “More, give me more–”
At this point, you’re not sure what you’re begging for at this point. The man is already fucking you like you want, but begging and wanting to be used by him just feels so good slipping out of you. You want to call for him, cry out his name and you do so.
Until, at least, he takes a moment.
Resting a hand to the space between your shoulder blades, he presses down gently and you get the hint as to what he wants from you. So you carefully readjust yourself on the futon, shoulders keeping you propped up and your tits squished against the fluffiness beneath you. You’re a little bit confused as to what to do with your arms, so he leans forward, planting a kiss to your right shoulder blade and then your left.
There’s a grunt from you, his cock wedged a bit too deep from the angle, but you’re distracted with the way he carefully gathers your arms, crossing them at the forearms at the small of your back. He continues to kiss along your back, adjusting you a little so that he can plant his lips to your temple.
“My good wife.”
Any attempt at a response is robbed of you when he suddenly pulls out a little, just a little.
You know what’s about to happen and yet it occurs in slow motion.
“Ohhh f– Ah –!”
He begins hammering away at you, heavy balls swinging hard against your clit with every downward stroke. You pant and writhe beneath him, wrists pinned to your lower back and held by one of his hands.
Somehow, in this angle, he feels even deeper than he had when he took you like a dog. Like a bitch in heat, to be bred and carry a litter. You need him driving his heat into yours, filling you up completely, destroying you for any other person that would ever try and take you after him.
“I think about you all the time.”
“What?” He asks, voice hoarse against your skin as he continues to fuck you with that godforsaken pace of his.
Halfway out, only to hurry back in with the wet clap of his balls against your puffy lips and swollen nub. The sensation drives your brain wild, any thoughts that were once there now fully evaporated, cleansed from your mind except for the sole reason for your new existence: taking your man deep in you.
The sounds of your mating is loud, skin against skin and your shared mixture of cum and arousal trickling from your spread pussy down to his heavy balls.
“I think about– fuck ! Ah, I–”
You swallow down hard as he snakes an arm around your waist, using it for leverage as he continues to piston himself in and out of you. Inhaling sharply, you let out a sound as though you’re being gutted, and with how he’s carving a space inside you, he may as well be gutting you like a fish.
“--I think about you when you’re gone, when I– I miss you. I miss you a l-lot and– ahh ! I think about this a lot, about you–”
Your voice is lost on you as a particularly sharp thrust rubs the fat curve against that sweet spot. Whatever you had been rambling about is lost somewhere in the air that reeks of your copulation. All you can think about is how good he feels in you and all you can do is beg.
“Right there right there right there ohgodohgodrightthereyesyesyesyes yes –”
Your toes curl as the arm around you moves down, palm pressing against your abdomen and he again makes you feel it. That bulge in your lower belly, inflating and deflating a bit because of how deep his oversized dick is inside you.
Sobbing into the sheets, you tremble, fingernails digging into the meat of your palms. Right when you’re about to ask him to please touch you, he’s already moved that devious hand down between your legs, tips of his index and middle fingers rubbing circles against you where you need it.
“Oh God, Oh God, Giyuu– Giyuu, please, it’s so good,” you babble, drool staining the sheets as you sob out. “Y– feel so good in– inside me, yes. Yes !”
The man slams into you harder, driving you into the cushiony fabric of the soft futon.
Each thrust in forces and airy whimper from your mouth, pussy clenching around him so tight that you can hear him hiss. He works his heavy girth into you faster, in tandem with the way he toys with your sticky clit.
“Cum– I’m g’nna,” you slur out, sex fog already polluting your brain and you haven’t even reached the final orgasm that your husband has planned out for you. In any other situation, you would have scolded yourself for your lack of verbal manners, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s using you like a cocksleeve.
You’re silent when you cum.
It’s a full body orgasm, your smaller frame trembling hard beneath him as your pussy clenches hard around him. You’re so tight that he actually has to stop, breathing pattern disrupted as he holds you tight to him.
The pleasure in your body spikes to a different level, senses in overdrive as you see colors you never know existed.
It isn’t until he’s gently rubbing his palm against your sternum and throat that you realize your ears have been ringing again, unhearing to him urging you to breathe. So you finally do, choking in wet lungfuls of air and coughing before letting out a sputtering whimper, body still convulsing around him.
“Gi–” You sob out, trembling in his grasp as he pulls you up with him, half-squatting so that you can seat yourself on his thighs. “--I’m… I–”
You can’t think right now, body clenched tight like a vice as he plants sweet kisses onto your cheek. The arm that isn’t wrapped supportively around your waist is gently caressing your thigh, rubbing soothing circles as he murmurs your name tenderly against your skin.
“So good, wife,” he whispers quietly, pecking your lips as he gently hushes away your spasms. “So good.”
It isn’t until a little bit later that you’ve calmed down, any tears streaming down your face wiped away by the calloused pad of your husband’s thumb. You try and forget that that was on your clit just a couple of seconds ago.
The back of your head is resting against his muscled shoulder as your eyes flutter shut.
“Just allow me a moment,” you say, laughing a little at the image of how dramatic this may look with you sprawled on his lap with his cock still wedged in your guts.
But Tomioka Giyuu is a very patient man, and so he waits, merely humming his assent and stroking your skin reassuringly. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of training he has on his lungs to calm himself down, because it was but a minute ago that he was wildly fucking you into another mental state. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, content at simply holding you in his arms and kissing your shoulder, neck and cheek tenderly.
When you open your eyes and turn your head, you find the man peeking at you, to which you grin. There’s a small, placid smile that he returns as you give his hand a squeeze.
“Continue?” You ask, leaning in to peck his lips.
“Are you certain?” He worries. “You were unconscious.”
You grin tiredly at him, taking your husband’s hand and resting it over your belly. The protrusion is still there. He raises a brow at you.
“This’ll be big in the next few m–”
“ Wife .”
You purse your lips together, shoulders squaring a bit. Yeah. He got you again. Although Tomioka Giyuu is the quiet type, he isn’t stupid. He knows you quite well, for someone who is able to spend very, very little time with you.
“Please, do not ask me to hurt you,” he tells you. He’s practically pleading with you at this point, but with the way you still feel him twitching in you, he still needs his own release.
Damn this beautiful Hashira’s ability to control himself, even his orgasms. Sure, he had painted your womb with his cum very quickly up against the wall, but that was… well. Maybe it was just something to take the edge off, desensitize him. If that was the case, then it’s definitely working for him.
And damn this gorgeous man for caring too much about you that he doesn’t seem to realize you’re trying to get fucked within an inch of your life. Yes, maybe it’s because you’re trying to forget the fact that this may as well be the last night you get to spend with your husband, but–
But you lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He sighs against you. The man knows you all too well.
“Please rest first.”
“I just did.”
The man looks incredibly unimpressed, lips pulled in a straight line. He knows how you get when you are up to something, when you’ve settled your one track mind on, well, that one track. So he carefully gathers you in his arms, readjusting you both so that you’re both laying on your sides.
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you’re made comfortable in this position, back against his chest and side squished down onto the soft downiness of the futon. One of your most favorite positions, because it’s even more intimate than normal, especially when he leans down at this moment to plant a kiss on your temple. You smile.
“Is this better for you?” He asks, voice gentle.
You nod your head, trying to push back against the man. He grunts, one hand reaching down to your thigh, pressing your knee up to your tits.
“Good.”
So he begins to thrust like that, leisurely enjoying the way your cunt welcomes him eagerly.
“Wife,” he calls out, his trained breath even and hot against your sweaty skin.
Amidst the haze in your brain, you nod somehow. “Yes?”
“Wait for me.” His nose brushes against your cheek. “Will you wait for me?”
From the awkward angle the both of you are in, you crane your neck to look up at him.
You expect to see one of two things on his face: his regular calm expression or brows furrowed in pleasure.
What you hadn’t prepared for is the concern on his face. He looks as though he’s worried, throat muscles constricting and Adam’s apple bobbing. He looks expectant for your answer, breathing just a tad bit erratic in stark contrast to his usual measures.
“Giyuu.”
He blinks, brows furrowing. Hips still for a moment as he holds you tightly to him.
“Will you?”
You know your husband well enough for all the unspoken words and hidden meanings. He’s terrified that you wouldn’t wait for his return back home, if he ever managed to. Who knows how long this final stretch, the last fucking mile, would take until the world would know peace. The man simply knows it’s coming, the end of all things. It just would take time, and he isn’t sure how long it would be.
Tomioka Giyuu has always always been familiar with unspoken farewells, but his greedy heart has known love, has known you. This is not a farewell he is willing to accept.
The world has taken so much from him.
He refuses to not come back home to you.
“I will,” you breathe, reaching out to pull him in for a kiss.
The man relaxes against your lips, slowly moving his own against yours. He holds you tighter against his chest and you practically melt against him before pulling away a bit. Giyuu makes a disappointed sound at that, his eyes half lidded as he watches you, your fingers playing absently with his thick hair.
“I love you. Do you love me, Giyuu?” You ask cheekily, a smile on your face.
He presses another kiss to your cheek.
“Yes. I love you.”
“Mmm,” you respond, tilting your head so you can peck him on the lips. “Now show me how much.”
You could almost swear you feel him smile against your lips.
But he kisses you, lips passionate and slow in their movement as he moves himself in and out of you slowly. One of his hands manages to find yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing as he groans, the sound low and sending shivers prickling all across your body. You squeeze around him, pulling air in through your nostrils before you pull away from his kiss, your neck supported by the crook of his arm. There’s a high-pitched moan that escapes you as he moves even deeper, forcing you to indulge in each goddamn burning inch of his thickness, his veininess.
“Giyuu, please promise me that you– that you’ll come back to me,” you whisper up at him, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.
“I promise,” the man tells you, not even hesitating for a moment. “I promise you, I’ll come back.”
You smile, pulling him in for yet another kiss.
Like always, you believe him.
After he cums in you, cock wedged so deep that you fear he’d never be able to pull out, Giyuu makes you actually rest.
When you awake from your nap, he already has food and supplies brought back in. He feeds you, makes you drink water, and then bathes you. At that point, there’s so much of him caked between your legs, dripping out of you all sticky and viscous. Your husband is exceedingly gentle when he cleans you, all kisses and bashful expressions as you poke fun at him and his reddening face.
He takes you again after you had gotten in another nap after he had slathered ointment on your aching body, but only after you had drank a glass of water.
Giyuu makes you ride him this time, although he mostly does the work as he lifts you up and down onto him, taking him so deep in you. He fucks you later before entering the onsen, you facing the wall as he drove inch after throbbing inch into your swollen pussy. After the dinner, he eats you out as his dessert, groaning into your cunt as he touched himself to his taste in your sweet, well-bred and well-fucked pink hole.
At some point, you don’t know what’s up or down when he’s finished with you.
But you’re both fully sated, exhausted, happy and holding onto each other. Sweat and grime be damned, you know he’d pull you to wash down again later. So you rest in his arms, fingers wrapping around his pinky one as you allow fatigue lull you sweetly into a contented slumber.
He always keeps his promises, anyway.
And when he returns some weeks later, exhausted and spent and victorious, you’d have his favorite salmon dish prepared for him too.