#berserk x y/n

[ssailormoonn]

❛ Princess ❜

GoldenAge!Griffith X fem!princess!Reader

| YANDERE THEMES | SFW |

WC; 1.3k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; reader is implied to be charlottes sister!! use of '{Y/n}', yandere themes, just griffith choosing his next victim, dark content, possessive behaviour

i spent a lot of time writing this and making sure everything i wrote was perfect, i hope you all enjoy😣 - honey

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His armor was reflected with all the colors of the light that entered through the stained-glass windows on the building: deep red and orange hues that symbolically presented unity and power in the kingdom of Midland. The weight of the moment: heavy with expectations on your shoulder, rests while you stand amidst the gathering of nobles.

"Commander Griffith," your father meted the acknowledgment, and Griffith stepped in front of the King, Queen, and the two princesses, bowing in respect, his cascading white hair lying over his shining silver armor.

"Princess {Y/n}," your father called out in command, gesturing for you to proceed forward. You step forward with elegance as the waves in your waves of elegance in your navy dress continued to spread behind you. You step with exactness, moved with exactness—in exactness, in every motion that had been rehearsed over and over before attaining the said standing you were in. The eyes of court watched observantly, discreet in their surveillance of your every movement.

The moment you arrived at Griffith, you extended your hand with fingers so graceful and poised. He took it gently. His armor was cold against your skin. His lips were elusive as a soft kiss and lingered a second too long; the kiss hung at the edges of the proper and correct.

He was flexing power in such a subtle way—it was subtle, but he knew.

There was something kind in the manner and, at the same time, some veneer into which intention had been collected.

A shiver ran down your spine as his ice-blue gaze caught yours, his eyes raising from his bow. Something predatory glistened in his eyes, something that made one wonder or a key piece of a game that only he knows if one was nothing more than a pawn in his grand design.

"It is truly an honor to finally meet you, Princess," came that smooth, well-oiled voice of Griffith's. The crowd murmured in approval; all sounds echoed through the cavernous cathedral.

Yet, somewhere beneath the polite exchanges, a person could sense something more going on here: the veiled calculations, the faint flickers of ambition that had put Griffith in this position of power.

His gaze never left yours as he dropped your hand. He was watching you, looking through you, perhaps, for the best way to bend you to his whim.

You belonged to him, whether you understood that you were a pawn, queen, or maybe something between.

It was a sea of faces, the whole of the cathedral at that moment respectfully concentrating over the play unfolded in front of their eyes. Nobles, ecleastics, distinguished guests filled the pews, eyes glued to the action being played out between Griffith and yourself. The tension in the room was tangible; together, they breathed as if they awaited the next moment.

There is something commanding in Griffith's presence, captivating in his aura, but unconsciously repellent. Consciously, even the way he was holding your hand was soft, and his kiss, in which almost imperceptible pressure was put, was calculated.

You could feel the pulse of that moment, the silent exchange between the two of you speaking volumes more than the mere touch could have done. It was as though he had claimed you, staked his territory—marking you as his before the whole court.

Your father stood immovable behind you, his face stoic, although you knew the tiny glint in his eyes betrayed a hint of his concern. Generations had passed with the royal family playing this game of power and politics, but Griffith was a new breed; he was silky, composed, with a burning will like the colored rays cast off the stained glass across his armor.

Griffith eventually released your hand but he did not break the eye contact. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that seemed as though, if he needed to, he could see through all of the falseness and look way past it.

There was something uncanny in this silence, something perhaps even rather fascinating in another way, something that simply could not fail to grip the attention. Breath was heard murmuring from all the corners when whispers spotted around in the crowd: Where the discussions carried would be so imperative in the history books for the fate of the kingdom?.

"For me, to serve Midland and its royal family is an honor," Griffith spoke, and there was just a subtle current of authority in his voice. His gazes never left yours, and you realized this wasn't just a formal introduction.

This was more.

A relationship that would all be about his control and your compliance.

Something dark glinted beneath those warm eyes of Griffith. It wasn't the supple quality in his voice, or even the grace in his movement; it was the way his eyes locked onto yours, as though no one else in that room counted.

You were regarded, Princess, as if he'd your life already mapped out: each decision you'd make.

And that, somehow, no matter what, you belonged to him.

During dinner, his eyes never left you for long. He listened to everyone else, chuckled at their stories, contributed some bromide to some noble's question, but you knew his attention was on you.

You rose from the head table; his eyes followed you, following every step you made.

You could feel the weight of it, a possessive intensity making you hyperaware of his presence.

You would see, as others tried to draw you into a conversation, his expression never waivered—just a polite smile—but that little tightness in the jaw, that cold flash in the eyes. You could see him staring as if to say, 'Back off'—with the eyes.

Featuring the eventual success of placing yourself in one of the quieter corners, far enough from the hustle, Griffith was now standing at your side, seemingly as if he emerged from the shadows. His steps soundless, his calves dragging his tensiled body closer and closer to you, so close that he might have been radiating heat.

"Princess. Princess {Y/n}," he began, his voice a bare hiss overlaid with tension. "I've been waiting for this moment."

He was so near it was unnerving; there he stood, quite imposing. It's as if he were ever growing near to your personal space, one and two feet at a time, awaiting you to crack. He had a twinkle in his eye, almost as if he were sick with pleasure.

"Great Lord Griffith," you replied, trying to hold your bearings, "I never knew you to be so interested in the lines of succession for the royal family."

Griffith's smile slowly grew slightly predatory. "The royal family is dear to my heart," he said, though his look stayed upon you. "And you, Princess, are perhaps the most interesting of them all. Your beauty, your grace, it is as if it was a destiny made for greatness; I could not conceive of this land without you being lined up in some succession for the throne."

His words were full of praise, as if he spoke with a possessor's lilt, but not like he was talking of you, but to you, and ever watching your eyes, and you were cold in that warm hall. Not that he was interested in you; by the way he spoke, you belonged to him already, as if he had a right to determine your future as his property.

Griffith touched his fingers to your wrist—just an elusive touch, and yet it sends shivers down your spine, not out of pure love but out of a silent claim, as if he were thinking of you as something to be owned or to be mastered in existence.

"We could do so much together," he murmured as his voice lowered, becoming intimate. "Just think of the power, the influence. Together, there is nothing we could not do. You're mine, Princess, and you know you're mine too, right?"

His words were a trap, expertly laid to draw you in, to make you feel that you had no choice but to agree with him. The possessiveness in his gaze, the way it seemed to lock out the rest of the world—well, that was all according to his masterful maneuvering.

You stood there, very aware of the weight of his presence. You realized Griffith was not just some leader; he was nature itself, something unbreakable by his will for something and with the intent of taking it.

Do not steal, copy, modify, etc Reblogs and likes are appreciated

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[pfpanimes]

⌕ naruto - sasuke.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[marblemoovt]

Waterfall - Guts/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, AFAB Reader, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V Sex, Edging, Aftercare (Let me know if I'm missing any)

Summary:

Months after the eclipse, you're still grappling with it all. But at least you're not alone. You might as well get railed to ease the burden of living.

------

“I’m ok,” you repeat, smiling more easily now. His brows furrow and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I could have lost you,” he whispers, his eyes sheen in the light. You click your tongue and pinch his cheek. Guts scowls but doesn’t move away. 

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. I’m standing right in front of you, so why do you keep looking back?” There’s a slight tremor in your tone. You unclench your fists, pushing him back to create some distance. There’s a brief flash of emotion across his face, but it dissipates with the heat simmering your blood. “I’m right here,” you whisper against the roar of the waterfall. 

Note:

Hello! I know I disappeared for like, almost a year. No freak accidents or anything of the like. Life has just been busy and I have poor time management. But I missed writing, even though it did not miss me ;-; The writing gods did not bless me with inspiration for a long while, not to mention I have a stubborn habit of only having one wip at a time (I have multiple ideas, but I only work on one fic at a time).

In any case, I hope this brings joy to somebody. I am frankly tired from editing this monstrosity so I'll leave you to enjoy :)

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

Note: This does take place in the same universe as Love Triangle but this can be read as a stand-alone.

Water cascades down your body, beating into your skin. The temperature was freezing earlier, but now it’s numbed into a slight chill. You stare at the rock wall, trailing along the cracks and crevices that crater the surface. Sprinkles of minerals sparkle throughout, reflecting rainbows when the moonlight hits them just right. 

The cold bite of metal stings into your shoulder, and you jerk away from the contact. Whirling around, you come face to face with Guts. He stares at his hand, clenching it into a fist before it drops to his side. 

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” he says. You notice the gray towel peeking out behind his arm. 

You drag your fingers through your hair, shaking off the water droplets. A few stray drops trickle down your chin, and Guts watches them drip along your collarbone. “I’ll be done soon,” you say. The phantom blood still sticks to your raw skin, the scent of iron lingering while your body becomes a collage of self-inflicted wounds. You scrubbed and scrubbed, but it’s not enough. Not even an entire ocean can wash away the atrocities you witnessed. But maybe that’s the burden of surviving the eclipse, for living when you were marked for death. 

“You looked done 20 minutes ago. Skin’s gonna start peeling if you don’t stop,” he says. You look away from Guts and pick at the dead skin underneath your nails, grimacing at your wrinkled fingertips.

“I don’t feel done. I don’t think I ever will,” you admit in a hushed whisper. Guts doesn’t say anything, offering his hand for you to take. Accepting the gesture, you’re tugged into his chest. The soft towel gently pats your skin dry and tousles your wet hair. He pauses, eyes scanning your face. “I’m okay, as okay as one can be in our situation.” Your lips twitch into a small smile, but this seems to only frustrate him more. 

Guts growls, his jaw clenched shut. “I’ll kill him.” There’s no room for questioning who ‘he’ is. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, and his posture relaxes. Your thumb traces the bags underneath his eyes. 

“I’m ok,” you repeat, smiling more easily now. His brows furrow and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I could have lost you,” he whispers, his eyes sheen in the light. You click your tongue and pinch his cheek. Guts scowls but doesn’t move away. 

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. I’m standing right in front of you, so why do you keep looking back?” There’s a slight tremor in your tone. You unclench your fists, pushing him back to create some distance. There’s a brief flash of emotion across his face, but it dissipates with the heat simmering your blood. “I’m right here,” you whisper against the roar of the waterfall. 

“I’m not…. ”He sighs and finally meets your gaze. “I’m not angry at you.” Guts fiddles with the towel in his hand. “I wasn’t strong enough to save you.” His touch drifts towards the bandages wrapping his torso. 

You walk up to Guts, enveloping him in a hug. “Can we pretend for once that everything is ok? That spirits aren’t hunting us, and a bunch of Apostles won’t fuck up the world?” When he doesn’t respond, you look to see him staring at the ceiling. “Guts?”

“Clothes,” he stutters. “You’re not wearin’ any.” You look down at your naked body pressed against his. 

“You weren’t shy earlier when you were drying me.” Leaning in further has the desired effect when you feel a bulge against your lower abdomen. “Looks like someone has no complaints,” you say with a smirk. 

Guts groans and shudders when you roll your hips. He wraps an arm around your waist, palm splayed against the curve of your back. His hand slides to squeeze your ass, and he whispers into your ear, “Don’t provoke me.” It’s a similar tone to when he shouts orders on the battlefield. You take it as an invitation to tease him further. He notices the glint in your eyes and clicks his tongue. “Brat.”

You know he’s soft beneath that tough exterior. You can see it in how he brings you something warm to drink when it’s cold, how his hands naturally gravitate to your waist or the small of your back. Guts doesn’t like saying it, but you just know. Currently, he’s scolding you for being in the water too long. You won’t point it out, but he grabbed the softest towel to dry you. 

“I love you,” you say. His hands freeze, and the lines on his face soften. 

Guts sighs, “How can you be so lovely and infuriating at the same time?” He cups your cheek but quickly recoils upon noticing the gleam of metal contrasting against your skin. 

You grab his wrist and press a kiss onto the palm of his prosthetic hand. “It’s one of my many talents,” you reply, pressing another kiss to his lips to prevent him from biting them. 

“It’s strange,” Guts mumbles. Your other hand slides down his chest, trailing along his abs to the waistline of his pants. His breath hitches, and he nips your earlobe in retaliation. “Sometimes I still feel it when you touch that hand,” he says. 

“Do you feel this?” You trace the outline of his growing erection, eventually rubbing your hand against the bulge in his trousers. He bucks his hips into your touch, and a low groan escapes from his lips. “Or what about this?” Slipping your hand beneath the fabric, you’re surprised by the lack of an additional layer. “Expecting something, are we?” You grin impishly at him, inching your fingers closer to his cock. Your skin is still cold from the water, and Guts is blazing beneath your touch. 

“Not at”—you firmly grip his shaft and begin stroking languidly—”all,” he forces through gritted teeth. You can almost hear the creak of his jaw as it strains under pressure.

“So you weren’t expecting to find me still naked at the waterfall and indulge in some intimate acts?” You stop stroking to tease the head of his cock, running your thumb over the frenulum. Thick precum coats your hand, and you reluctantly pull away, but only to see the frustration grow on Guts’s face. “Then I guess there’s no need for me to continue.” You wade through the pool and use the waterfall to rinse your hand. 

As you’re flicking off water droplets, a broad chest presses against your back, and thick arms wrap around your waist. The sudden force pushes you into the rock wall, your hands flying up out of instinct to lessen the impact. You turn your head to see Guts, completely bare, his clothes lying in a forgotten heap by the pool. That explains what’s twitching against your lower back. You grind slow, lazy circles against his stiff cock, grinning at how he trembles with the slightest rock of your hips.

“Stop,” he pleads, squeezing his arms to constrain your movements. It’s cute; he’s pretending to stop you, but his hold is too lax. 

You hum and redirect one of his hands to your breasts, sighing at the contact. “If you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be enthusiastically rutting like a dog in heat,” you say. As if to prove your point, a low whine pitches in the back of his throat when you press against him to hinder his movements. 

“So maybe I don’t want to stop,” he admits. “Maybe I want to rough you up against the wall until you can’t walk the next day.” The imagery sends a gush of slickness between your thighs, and you rub them together to ease the ache. 

“Then why don’t you?” You spin around to face him and hook one leg around his thigh, tugging his hips closer. The sharp exhale followed by a groan is music to your ears. Your arms drape over his shoulders, sinking your nails into his broad back. You have him trapped. Or is it the other way around? He could effortlessly pry you off, but his dark eyes hold no intention of letting you go. “I don’t break easily, you know,” you whisper against his lips, his breath fanning your face. 

Guts bites his lips, fingers bruising your hips, marks he’ll kiss in the morning when you’re bedridden. “I—“

You cut him off, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Let me make myself clear, Guts. I want you to fuck me.” His breath hitches, the click of his throat silenced by the rush of water. “Fuck me so damn hard I don’t remember a thing about this shitty world we live in.” You want to spend at least an hour free from the waking nightmare that plagues your daily life. Maybe this isn’t the best way, but it is the most pleasant. 

You know you’ll go to bed and dream of crimson skies and shrill screams. A world where the tang of metal never leaves your mouth. Where rot and decay fester in your lungs, smothering you alongside the scent of burning flesh. And then you’ll wake up, touch your face to feel the wet streaks streaming down your cheeks. Guts will be sleeping beside you, faring no better in his dreams, relaxing only when you hold his hand and lay on his chest.

Yeah, the world is fucked up, and so is your mental state. You might as well get railed to ease the burden of living.

But enough about later. What’s happening right now is important. And what’s happening right now is Guts pleading with his eyes to please you. He has one arm hooked underneath your leg to support it, the other still wrapped around your waist, hand dipping to cup your ass. He grinds his erection against your clit, and you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

Guts kisses behind your ear, sucking on the spot. Your blood thrums through your veins, buzzing with electricity. “Guess the waterfall will be useful,” he says.

“How so?” you hum, closing your eyes as he trails his lips along your jawline. You tilt your head back, and he peppers your exposed throat with kisses, playfully nipping but careful to avoid breaking the skin. A tingle shoots up from the base of your spine when his teeth scrape over your pulse, tongue laving over your racing heartbeat.

“Others won’t hear any of your screams.” He hoists you up, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. “I get to have you all to myself.” Your back thuds against the wall, the rough rock leaving a light sting on your skin. There’s a hunger in his eyes that threatens to devour you. He always gets that look when he’s determined to spoil you rotten.

You ignore the throbbing heat in your core, focusing on the slanted curve of his lips. “Ooh, confident are we?” you tease, dragging your nails across his back, grinning at the shudder it elicits. 

“I’ve always been skillful with my hands,” he says, lowering your feet. At the shallow end of the pool, water laps at your knees. The chill heightens the burn of your skin, and the slickness between your thighs becomes impossible to ignore. Guts sinks down, kneeling in front of you, hands parting your legs gently. He tuts and gazes at you with mock scorn. “You cleaned up earlier, but now you’ve made a mess again.”

“And whose fault is that?” you reply, inhaling sharply when his fingers rub circles into your thighs. 

He hums and plants a kiss on your kneecap, lips skirting up closer to the source of your dripping cunt. “A man should always take responsibility for his actions.” His warm breath is like a spark of flint on kindling. It starts a blazing heat that crawls up and pools in your stomach, spreading throughout your veins until your entire body is engulfed in flames. 

A thin veil of fog blankets your mind. For a second, you almost forget how to breathe. He looks up at you from between your legs, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. He looks eager to taste you; it causes you to clench tightly, gripping around nothing but air. And you want him to fill you up, to replace the void the eclipse left behind after it tore almost everything from you. 

Your body seizes up. A cool jet of air against your clit catches you off guard. Guts looks you in the eyes, trapping you in their dark depths. “If—at any time—you want me to stop, tell me,” he commands. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and he holds your gaze. He won’t continue unless you agree. 

You wrack your brain together, drumming your fingers on the wall behind you to form a coherent thought. But all you can focus on is his warm breath against your skin, the burning ache in your core that beckons for his attention.

Guts sighs, drinking in your scent deeply. He licks his lips, and his fingers dig into your flesh. “I don’t want this to be like the other times,” he admits. 

You stare at him quietly, observing the clarity in his eyes. This isn’t the first time you’ve sought each other’s company. After all, who better to seek comfort from than someone who’s been through the same traumatizing event? Overcome with grief and guilt, you found solace in the warmth of his body and vice versa. It wasn’t always sexual, but sometimes you crave the shelter of having no other thoughts besides pleasure. To know nothing else but pure bliss for a brief respite.

Guts mistakes your silence for rejection. “Let me cherish you,” he pleads. “Let me worship you the way you deserve.” And you recall dark nights of clashing teeth and tongues, scratches and bruises made just to feel something—anything. There’s still a tinge of purple around his collarbone, the imprint of your teeth long faded. The harsh lines on his face are nonexistent. His touch is light, revering. 

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this important. Guts doesn’t treat you like glass. He looks like he would raze the entire world in flames for you, and all you need to do is ask. Cupping his chin in one hand, you stare into his earnest eyes. Guts pulls away to plant kisses along your knuckles. The corners of his mouth curl up at your sigh when he nips at your fingertips. It’s hard to describe this feeling. All the tension and worry in your body building up like a brick wall suddenly crumbles to dust. 

And how can you say no when he looks so eager to please—to love you? A brief taste of copper coats your tongue, and you ignore the phantom claws dragging down your lower abdomen. You focus instead on Guts’s soft touches, the steady gurgle of water, and the moonlight filtering through the pockets of sky in the ceiling. 

You are safe. 

“Ok,” you whisper. Slowly, you spread your legs apart and cool your burning cheeks with the back of your hand. “Please touch me.”

Guts plants a kiss on your inner thigh, trailing upwards. He wants to drag this out and tease you until the anticipation has you dripping with need. With one calloused hand resting on your pubic mound, he licks a long stripe through your folds, groaning at your intoxicating taste. A jolt of pleasure crawls up your back before slamming into your core. 

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when he eats you out messily. Obscene slurps and groans bounce off the rock walls. Guts slings one of your legs over his shoulder and focuses on your clit, inserting two fingers into your dripping cunt. Spots of light dance across your vision when he crooks his fingers to stroke your sweet spot. It’s a wonder how you’re still standing. 

Just as the band in your stomach goes taut, Guts pulls away. The pleasure building in your body drops and transforms into a sharp ache that has your body screaming for release. 

“Your legs are trembling,” Guts points out. 

You press harder against the wall and try to remember how to stand. “No, I’m not,” you say. 

Guts hums and plants a kiss on your clit, the kind that fills your veins with lava and sets off the butterflies in your stomach. “You can be so damn stubborn.” He stands and carries you with ease, wading towards the edge. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Some underwater training,” Guts replies, refusing to elaborate further. He stops and sets you on the ground. The water reaches just below your chest in this position; the sudden coldness shocks your skin. It makes you hyper-aware of your sensitivity. 

Gus parts your legs, and you lean back slightly, using your arms to support yourself from behind. His touch radiates familiarity, hands caressing all the spots that work you up. You lick your lips and part then to ask another question. “Wha—“ 

“Always wanted to see how long I could hold my breath,” Guts cuts you off, petting your clit gently. He gazes at you through hooded lids, a grin ghosting his lips. “They say the average is 3-5 minutes. Let’s set a new record.” His words send tingles throughout your body, and you clench at the thought. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, distracted by the circles he’s drawing with his thumb. If you time it just right, you can buck your hips and have him stroke your swollen clit. 

“Don’t worry about it.” And the next thing you know, his head’s underwater and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. Your fingers immediately thread his hair, tugging his scalp when his nose brushes against your clit.

The water and walls blur into blobs of colour, your heartbeat thundering in your eardrums. The throbbing between your thighs quickens, and that band in your stomach threatens to snap and give you whiplash. Guts brings a hand up close to your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut, dangling on the precipice of an orgasm. 

He surfaces from the water. His shit-eating grin only widens when you vocalize your discontentment. A flick to your clit shortcircuits your brain with a jolt of pleasure, eliciting a scream from your lips. One of your hands slips, and suddenly the world is careening backwards—or is it forwards? 

Strong arms wrap around your body, and suddenly you’re face to face with Guts instead of the ceiling. Water splashes and drenches both of you in the crossfire. You try to stand up, but Guts digs his fingers into your hips. Something warm brushes against your bare cunt. 

This new position has you straddling Guts. Even the most minuscule movements cause some degree of friction. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s barely restraining himself. Since his hands hold your hips in place, you lean forward and attack his neck with bites and hickeys. Guts hisses and immediately stands up, hoisting you with him. 

“Let’s move to land. Wouldn’t want you to drown,” he rasps, shuddering when you lick over his racing pulse. 

“I can think of other ways to leave me breathless,” you whisper, lifting your head and baring your neck. The perfect place for his hands to wrap around. 

“Another time. Right now, I want you to sit on my face,” he says, setting you on the ground. Your cunt throbs in response, and you crawl—a little too eagerly—into position. You stop mere centimetres from his face, hovering in your hesitation. Inklings of doubt blot your thoughts. What if you’re too heavy? What if you smother— “Too long,” he grunts, interrupting your inner monologue. Guts grips your thighs and pulls you down, wasting no time ravaging you with his tongue,

You suck in a breath, hips rocking at a steady rhythm. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when his mouth latches around your clit and sucks greedily. He pulls away with a pop, the bottom half of his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips and groans, “Fuck, you taste amazing.” 

“Less talking, more licking,” you say.

“What, no please?”

You don’t humour him with a response and take matters into your own hands. You lift your hips and grind against the ridge of his nose.

Guts swears under his breath, inhaling your intoxicating scent. “What am I going to do with you?” he groans. 

You huff in frustration at the loss of stimulation. “What you should have done ages ago. Now shut up before I make you.”

Guts doesn’t move. “Not until you say please,” he says.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you moan, wriggling your hips to no avail since his hands have barred you from moving any lower.

“I just want to hear you beg for it.” He spreads your lips and admires how wet you are. When you remain silent, he massages the area surrounding your clit. “No? Not gonna cave in?”

You narrow your eyes and scrape your nails against his broad chest. “Fuck, you.” It comes out through gritted teeth. 

Guts chuckles. A low sound filled with mirth. “Oh, love. You wish.” His thumb probes your entrance, pulling out to slide along your slit. “I do have to praise you for holding out this long. It must feel unbearable.” And it does. Your skin is about to burst at the seams as the pleasure threatens to drive you mad. Never given enough to bring you over the edge, but just enough to stimulate the ache in your core—the desire to be filled. 

“Not. At. All.”

Guts clucks his tongue, drawing circles around your swollen clit. “Liar.” He slowly pushes a finger into your cunt, adding another when he feels how wet you are. It doesn’t take long before the squelches reach your burning ears. His fingers curl and stroke that sensitive area on your walls. The pace is agonizingly slow, and it only deepens the ache. You bite down on your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. 

Your body trembles when he plants a kiss on your clit. Ah, to hell with playing hard to get. You might die if he doesn’t give you an orgasm right now. 

“Guts?” you groan, clenching when he pets your clit in response. 

“Yes, my love?” He sounds so smug. You don’t even need to look to see the smirk on his face. 

“…Please,” you whisper, hissing when he stops his ministrations. 

“Didn’t catch what you said. Gonna need you to repeat that.” He slowly resumes his movements, rubbing his fingertips against your walls. 

You grunt and try to focus, blinking to clear the fog in your brain. “Please. Fuck. Me.” You punctuate each word with a thrust of your hips. Guts’s fingers immediately retract, and you whine at the loss, only to throw your head back when he eats you out like a man starved. 

His hands hold you in place, only allowing enough freedom to ride his face, which you do—greedily. He runs the flat of his tongue across your slit. Every so often he comments on how good you taste, normally ending with how he can never get enough. You don’t know. You don’t really care.  He’s drawing patterns on your clit, each stroke bringing you closer to climax. 

And you’re so close. You can almost feel it. Guts must sense it, too, because he focuses on your clit, hands locking you snugly against his face. With his unrelenting tongue, you cum with a scream. Your entire body buzzes with electricity, clit throbbing in time with your clenches. Guts doesn’t stop, and soon the pleasure borders on pain. It’s too much. You jerk away, but he keeps you trapped in his hold. 

You can’t think anymore. You can only incoherently babble for him to let you go. And then it creeps up on you. The aftershocks of your last orgasm, combined with the continued stimulation, tighten that band in your stomach again. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision. It’s too much. You want it to stop. 

But it feels so fucking good. 

Guts swaps his tongue for his fingers, filling you up once more. Your back arches when he brushes over your g-spot. You mewl and beg him to do it again. 

“One more time. Cum for me one more time,” he orders. And how can you say no when he uses that tone? Guts pays special attention to your previous request, fingers curling with practiced precision. “I want even the gods to hear you scream my name.” 

He doesn’t need to convince you. Liquid heat pools in your stomach, bubbling like a pot about to boil over. His name is the first sound to leave your lips when you come undone. Guts is gentler this time; he draws out your orgasm slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. Your vision burns with tears as your body curls up before sagging bonelessly. 

You heave a sigh and crawl to the side, shuddering when the cold air hits your sensitive skin With a content smile, you stare at Guts in a daze, fuzzy warmth blanketing your mind. 

“Good?” he asks.

“Mhmm.” Your eyes drift to his erection; it twitches under your attention. Suddenly you’re aware of the heady scent of musk in the air. Licking your lips, you look back at Guts. He doesn’t say anything, but his pupils are blown. “Can I?” You inch closer to him, and he nods. You spread the precum leaking from the tip with your thumb. On an impulse, you lick the remainder off your finger, smirking when you hear his sharp intake of breath. 

A bitter saltiness greets your tastebuds, but it’s milder than you anticipated. You well up some saliva in your mouth and use it to lubricate your hand to begin stroking. Slow, firm pumps have him twitching against your palm. 

“Faster, please,” he groans, jerking his hips upwards to match your strokes. 

“Ooh, so you do know how to be polite,” you say as you tighten your grip and increase the pace. Guts’s chest rises and falls faster than before.

His face distorts in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. “Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, nose scrunching. 

You laugh and rub his thighs soothingly. “Just this once,” and you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can manage. Running your tongue across the underside of his cock, you widen your jaw to avoid scraping him with your teeth. Anything you can’t fit gets stroked by your hands. Glancing up, you notice him watching you with a tenderness that’s been rare as of late. 

He’s been worrying and training almost to the point of obsession. You want to ease that ache in his chest and have him forget momentarily about all you’ve gone through together. Although, judging from how his eyes are starting to glaze over, your objective doesn’t seem that far away. 

It started out small, but now the walls echo with his moans and breathy whines. Each sound is like a lightning bolt between your thighs, burning you with strikes of pleasure. You bring a hand down to play with your clit, hoping to ease the ache. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth. His entire body starts shuddering, and you know he’s close. So you slow to a halt and chortle at his frustration. The look he gives you could wither the low-level spirits that hang around. Taking a breath, you inch slowly down to take more of his cock, chest brimming with pride at how his body immediately tenses. 

“You’re going to kill me here, my love,” he groans, hips stuttering between pulling away and pushing further in. 

You slide your mouth off his cock and lick your lips, massaging his balls with your hand. “I want to milk as much of your cum as I can and drink it all,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the tip. You feel a twitch against your fingers and smirk. “Seems like you’re on board with my plan.”

One of his large, warm hands is placed against your head, stroking your hair. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Not the only place I’d like to fill you up,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his tone. 

“Are you sure you can last that long?” you ask, and his fingers cheekily tug on your hair. The gesture draws a chuckle from you. You open your eyes to see him full of amusement. 

“You’re underestimating the stamina of a great swordsman,” he boasts.

You raise a brow. That’s a big claim. “Hm? Then why don’t you show me what your sword can do?” You straddle his hips, your drenched cunt seated against the shaft of his cock. It twitches against you, and you bring a hand down to tease the leaking tip.

“Change of plans?” Guts asks, tone wavering as you slowly pump his cock.

You hum, “I’m feeling a little impatient today.”

“What happened to milking me for all I’m worth?” The cockiness in his tone returns. “Going back now on those big claims?”

You chuckle and flick the head of his cock, watching Guts writhe in response. “You’re trying to rile me up, but it’s not working,” you say.

“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible when you get all fired up,” he says, 

You line up the tip of his cock with your entrance, slowly sinking down until his entire length is inside you. “Sorry to disappoint, but the only one losing their cool today is you.”

You start bouncing your hips, finding a steady rhythm to keep. Angling your body, his cock drags against your walls in all the right places. Guts begins aiming his thrusts when he notices how you cry out each time he hits the mark. 

Guts groans, face screwed tight in concentration. “You’re gonna squeeze me to death,” he moans.

You smirk, running your hands across his chest. “It took you this long to realize my intentions?”

He responds with an airy laugh. “You always were a damn good strategist.”

“And you’re living up to your title, General,” you say, feeling a twitch inside you. “Oh? You like it when I call you that, don’t you?” 

Guts looks at you with a sheepish grin. “If I say I do, will you call me that more often?” he asks. 

You hum, tracing his abs with your fingertips. “I’ll consider it, but it would have to be sparingly. Don’t want to inflate your ego too much,” you tease. A spank smarts your ass. The sting is quickly soothed by a gentle massage. You retaliate with slow, deep thrusts, grinning when Guts curses and loses his ability to form sentences. 

His cock throbs inside you, swelling up in preparation for his release. Guts’s fingers are bruising your hips, and he’s rutting into you. Slamming yourself down, you remain seated.

“Fuck, I was so close,” he groans, cock twitching in your warm cunt. 

“I know. That’s why I stopped,” you say. 

Guts looks at you with betrayal. “You, my dear, are a cruel lover.”

You tsk and clench tightly around him. “I may be a bit mean, but never cruel.”

“If this isn’t cruelty, then wha—“

You cut him off with a roll of your hips, successfully speech-jamming him. “You’ll see,” you say. 

You continue drawing out his release, bringing Guts near the edge only to wrench him away. You’ve lost count—not that you were even counting in the first place—of how many potential orgasms you’ve robbed him of. But from the sour gleam in his eyes, a few too many.

Any of his attempts to take over the pace are thwarted when you turn into an immovable object. The loss of friction is not deemed a worthwhile risk because Guts soon lets you have your way after only a few attempts.  

“Good boy,” you purr, a chuckle tickling the back of your throat. “Look at you, getting turned on when so much as a compliment is awarded.” You drag your fingers down his chest, sloping along the defined ridges of his muscles. “It’s kind of cute,” you admit. 

Guts watches you through hooded lids, mouth parting as incoherent pleas spill between his lips. You tsk and twist your lips into a mock frown. “Oh no. Did I wear you down already?” You cradle his face in your hand, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “I can feel you throbbing inside me. Do you want to cum?” you ask, receiving a shudder in response when you roll your hips. 

“Mhmm,” he grunts, nodding in fervour. Guts runs his hands along your thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh. “Please,” he adds politely. 

You hum and slow your movements. “Do you deserve to?”

It’s borderline hilarious to watch the gears in his head turn. The vacant look in his eyes shifts as they widen. “I do,” he says, but the slight wobble in his tone is tinged with nerves. 

You can’t stop the grin forming on your face and opt to kiss his damp forehead to hide it. “Relax,” you hush, “I’ll let you cum……

“…eventually.”

Guts groans and slides a hand between your thighs, fingers searching for your clit. You clench tightly around him when he taps it gently with his thumb. “Looks like the blood’s starting to rush back into the right head”—Guts slams his hips upwards, nearly winding you—“Ow, fuck! Ok, ok. No more jokes during sex.” You wince from your sore abdomen. “I’ll cut you a deal,” you pause to gain his attention. “If you make me orgasm within the next ten minutes, I’ll let you cum.”

“You can’t take back your word,” he grunts through gritted teeth. You squeal, arms flailing to wrap around his neck when he flips you onto the ground. There’s a pregnant pause as you stare into each other's eyes. Warm. There’s so much warmth in his gaze for you. “Beautiful,” he says, running his fingers along your face.  

Your chest squeezes tight. You turn your head, feeling the cool stone floor press against your burning cheeks. “9 minutes,” you say. Guts clicks his tongue and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. He angles his thrusts, ramming into the deepest parts of you. The inferno consuming your body melts your bones to liquid.

“With the sounds you’re making, it won’t be long,” he grunts. You clench tightly around him like a vice. Every well-aimed thrust sends your walls pulsating around his cock. The familiar tightening in your stomach takes hold and threatens to tear you asunder. “Fuck you look so good like this, I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”

You feel calloused fingers brush against your clit, and a bolt of electricity strikes the base of your spine. He chuckles at the way your body curls open like a flower, eager to meet the sun’s rays. When your hips raise to meet him halfway, who is he to deny you of more pleasure?

He brings a finger to his mouth, groaning at your lingering taste on his skin. Before you know it, the building pleasure threatens to burst. He rolls your clit between his fingers, applying constant pressure. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. 

How much time was left? Gods, you don’t remember anymore. All you can think about is how you’re a second away from release. 

The intensity drops. Guts’s thrusts remain deep; his cock drags along your walls in a sweet, slow torture. The flames licking your body from the inside are dying, but the embers are stoked just enough to keep the fire going. “You wouldn’t dare,” you seethe between clenched teeth. The muscles in your jaw are almost as tense as the knot in your stomach.

“Who says I wouldn’t?” Guts remarks calmly. A slight chill creeps up your spine, and you begin to sweat for reasons other than physical exertion. 

“But then you don’t get to cum,” you say, trying to build a counterargument to sway him. You were so close;  you needed just a little more to get there. In all honesty, both of you knew that if he really wanted to, Guts could easily ignore the bet. But that would mean destroying the mutual trust you spent years building. And you know both of you would rather die than betray the other.

“You said within the next ten minutes, I still have two left.” He slaps your pubic mound lightly, fingers resting above your swollen clit. “It’s not like you specified a time, only a period. So it doesn’t matter if there’s only a second left as long as you cum before it’s over.” 

You shudder. What have you done?

Guts begins mumbling to himself. Between the grunts and groans, you can just barely make out a decreasing string of numbers. He’s seriously counting down the seconds he has left before the bet is over??

You arch your back, fingers fisting the stone floor with nothing to ground you. “Fuck me,” you sigh, lifting your hips to feel his cock brush against that sensitive spot. 

“Already am,” Guts rasps, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Any other requests?”

“Yeah, fuck me harder.”

He leans down to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. “As you wish.”

And fuck you harder he does. You swear you must be above the clouds with all the stars you see. The slap of flesh echoes in your ears, filled with strained grunts and moans. You like it when Guts is vocal; it makes you feel like you’re doing a good job. One of the quickest ways he can turn you on is by moaning your name, which he’s doing right now. His breathy sighs as your name slips out of his mouth repeatedly like a prayer… it drives you crazy.

There’s only one thought in your mind; it overtakes all the others. You’re on the brink of an orgasm, standing at the edge of a cliff as you wait for the final push. “M’ close,” you say. Your clit throbs, and you feel a tug in your navel as the pressure builds.

“Then let’s bring you closer.” He slowly increases the pace, and your nails claw his back, leaving scratches in their wake. “I want you to look at me when you come undone. Can you do that for me?” You nod, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he rubs your clit. “Good.” His fingers maintain pace, and he consistently rams his cock against your g-spot.

Your body thrums with pleasure, ready to come undone at his command. Guts wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes gently. He wasn’t affecting your oxygen supply, but fuck did it do things to you. His thrusts become deeper, pounding into you at a steady rhythm. 

That was all it took to shove you off the edge. Your walls spasm around his cock in a toe-curling orgasm. All you can focus on is the waves of mind-numbing pleasure crashing into you, the force of the undertow sweeping you away. 

Guts continues to thrust, helping you ride out your orgasm. As you come down from your high, dizzy and lightheaded, you feel his cock swell inside you. He pulls out, pumping his cock as his warm seed spills onto your stomach.

You laugh a breathy chuckle, staring at the mess he made. “I think I need another bath,” you say.

Guts kisses the top of your head and says, “Then let’s get cleaned up.” He scoops an arm underneath your knees and wraps the other around your back.

“Guts!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t drop you,” he says, walking towards the pool. Wading in, he brings you to the stream of water. Already, the spray of droplets is freezing against your skin. You shudder and cling closer to Guts and the heat he radiates. “I’ll help you wash up,” and he lowers your legs, a hand still resting on the small of your back. 

“I am capable of washing myself,” you say. Hopefully, the rising sun made the water at least slightly more tolerable. But from how it feels like your feet are encased in ice, you don’t have much hope. 

Guts cups some water in his hands and pours it onto your shoulders. “I know you can, but I want to,” he says, kissing the side of your temple. “So stop being stubborn and let me help you.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t kn—“ Guts flicks water at your face with a smirk. You pause, your brain struggling to process what happened. “You!” Your eyes narrow into a glare. 

Guts bolts, his laughter reverberating the cave walls. You run after him, but it’s difficult despite the water reaching only your calves. Guts is somehow brute forcing his way, but you adapt a weird mixture of hopping and running to catch up. 

Once you’re within arm's length of Guts, you kick up the water, successfully splashing him. The smug grin on your face falters when he turns around with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He moves only a single step before your flight instincts take over. 

Your heart is thumping against your chest, thundering in your ears. His fingertips brush against your spine, and you squeal, dodging to the side. Large splashes grow closer and closer. But they suddenly stop. And amid your confusion, you stop running.

Looking over your shoulder, you see no sign of Guts except a few ripples in the water where you expected him to be.

“Got ya!” Big, strong hands wrap around your waist, and the ground disappears beneath your feet. The world spins in a whirlwind of lights and cool shades of blue and purple. As your surroundings grind to a halt, warm arms pull you into an embrace. Your laughter is dampened by his hug, and you blink to quell the dizziness. 

You stare into his eyes, watching black swallow brown. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek. “Shower?” you whisper, unwilling to break the stillness. If the universe would let you, you would spend every day like this with him. To wake and sleep together, sharing the mundane moments of life and experiencing the little pockets of joy as they occur. But that’s not the kind of world you live in— not if Griffith has anything to say about it.

Guts leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah, let’s get cleaned up.” He guides you back to the waterfall, fingers intertwined. You follow him without resistance. All the running around has warmed you up, but that only makes the water feel colder. Guts is careful as he washes you. “I know it’s cold, but you’re being so good for me,” he coos. His hands firmly glide across your skin. You feel him pause to trace the scars on your body, gently tracing the thin lines on your lower abdomen. His touch dips down between your thighs, and you part them. 

He does nothing more than clean up the mess he made, but you’re still sensitive. Little tremors run through your body, the aftershocks of your ground-shaking orgasm. Guts surprises you with a kiss on your neck. You swear this man is trying to kill you with his affection. With the uncomfortable slickness gone, you lean against Guts and relish in him pampering you. If only you had brought more soap. You could have asked him to wash your hair.

“Done?” he asks, to which you nod. Guts picks you up again and carries you to dry land, where he dries you off with the towel again. “Arms up,” he commands. And before you know it, a shirt is pulled over your head. The fabric still smells like him. Smoke from a fire pit and the medicinal scent of herbs from his ointment. You glance over and watch him put on his pants. Your eyes trail along the scars on his body. Most of them have healed nicely, but they’ll always remain to remind you how close to death you were that night.

Your fingers absentmindedly rest against the area of your brand. Before you can slip into a spiral, Guts calls out your name. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are focused on where your hand is. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. You’re unsure if he believes you, but he nods and doesn’t pry further.

Your eyes begin to droop, and a big yawn escapes your mouth. “I think it’s time to rest,” Guts says. Luckily, your sleeping arrangements aren’t too far. With Rickert’s help, Erica was able to find a larger bedroll for you and Guts to share. You never voiced the thought out loud, but you liked the closeness it forced. Something about sleeping in his arms brought you a sense of peace and security.

When he holds you at night, the nightmares leave you in peace. The screams quiet, and the stench of iron is replaced with cedar and smoke. The arms around your waist are tender. Guts is like a kiln; you’re dry clay—fragile at first but robust after exposure to his warmth. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Guts asks, petting your hair. You’re lying in bed, limbs tangled like vines wrapped around a tree. 

The corners of your lips curl up. “Like what?” 

Guts leans his forehead against yours. “Like I’m everything to you. That’s my job,” he says. 

You’re smiling so much your cheeks ache. “I love you.”

Guts mirrors your smile. His hand slides down to cup your face. You can feel his breath tickle your skin. His eyes dart to your parted lips before closing the gap. 

The kiss is slow and tender. Soft, pliable lips that leave you panting for air. Guts trails his mouth along your jawline, leaving a path of fire as he moves to the hollow of your throat. 

You can’t help but let out a content sigh when he pays attention to the sensitive area. Your cheeks tingle at the thought of waking up and being greeted with a new mark. Guts plants one last kiss on your collarbone before drawing you closer to him. 

“I love you so much,” he mumbles into your skin. You snuggle into him, wanting his scent to envelop you. His next words are so quiet you almost miss them. “Promise me you won’t leave, too.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. You look into his eyes and see a reflection of what you’ve become. His dark circles fare no better than yours, and that vengeful spark has dulled, having been weathered over time by grief. 

You lost your friends and family, but so did he.

With the brand carved into your skin and the spirits waiting around every corner to devour you…. “You know I can’t promise you that,” you say, and you hate how your words feel like a punch to your own gut.

“Then lie to me and promise anyway,” he whispers, staring at you through glossy eyes.

You bite your lip but refuse to look away. Raising a hand to wipe his tears, you say, “I promise to stay for as long as I’m able.”

Guts nods, soothed by your response. “Rest. I’ll keep us safe.”

Us. The word sends your heart a flutter. You shift into a comfortable position and drift into darkness, dreaming of campfires and starry skies for once. 

End Note:

It's like I can't decide whether I want the fic to be sad, happy, or horny. So why not all three?

I also decided to bite the bullet and get image dividers, because trying to get center formatting and having it stay consistent across platforms is tiring. Do they look ok? I got them from a Tumblr post by @/saradika if anyone wanted to know.

I have no idea when my next work will come out. I already have some fics queued up and knowing myself, I'll either speed right through them, or drag them out too long and lose interest lol

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

[badsweetangel]

Aside from the requests I have to answer, according to the fandoms/characters I write about, which one should the next one-shot be about?

[rae-pss]

JUDEAU looks like he'd love to receive some head massages and has his hair combed while he rests his head in a lap...

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses

Pairing: Geto x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk

Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍

„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.

Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.

“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.

“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”

“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”

His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.

“Why would you think that?”

But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.

“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”

Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.

Just you.

“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”

Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.

“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.

What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?

“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.

“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”

It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?

“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”

“Satoru prefers sweets-“

“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I’m asking about you.”

He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.

You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.

“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.

Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.

“These are really good”, he finally confesses.

“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”

And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.

“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”

The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.

“(y/n).”

He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.

You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.

“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc

[winterarmyy]

Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part II

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 4.2k++ (of fluff and filth)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, dub con, fingering, pussyjob, thighjob, soldat being manipulative yet maintains to be so loving at the same time, another round of google translated russian, filthy praises, soldat just want to make you feel good, wet & messy everywhere, loud & whiny soldat, and at the end of the day, despite the manipulation, the soldat just want take care of you.

A/N: omfg 1k++ notes from the previous chapter?! i didn't think this would get so much attention that it had, tbh. Like wtf. What did I do to deserve this 😭 Thank you so much for your support! I can't even begin to tell you guys how much joy y'all bring me. So, I decided write more of our soft soldat for all of us cause let's be honest, we need him so bad. It's gonna be 3 part mini series. I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

The darkness in his sight seemed permenant, at least until it transitioned into a dim-litted scenery. He recognized softness of the bed, and the blank white color of the ceiling.

He was in his room.

But, when he realized the emptiness of his bed, it was as if a force jolted through his body, yanking his lying figure into a sitting position. The dead silent was broken by the sound of his gasping breaths, followed closely by the beats of his pounding heart.

"Родная (darling)?" His voice shivered in his shaky breath.

When the silent replied his call, cold sweat drenched the roots of his hair. He almost jumped into a defensive position when the door of the walk-in wardrobe seemingly opened on its own.

But to his relief, her voice broke the silence, "Soldat?" Y/N peeped out her head when she heard his voice but the moment she saw the panic in his blue eyes, she quickly made her way towards him.

As soon as she was standing near enough, the soldat pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing his face into her stomach a relief washed over him. Y/N ran her hands through his hair as she coaxed, "I'm here, I'm here."

He hummed in reply, "You're here." He repeated as a sigh escaped his lips.

Y/N didn't know why she expected that Bucky would be back after their "sleepover" but it was a shock for her when she woke up that morning with several tender kisses on her face by the soldat, who was very much still present.

"So, you're saying he's is not the winter soldier?" Sam cocked his head to the side as he tried to wrap up the overwhelming information thrown by Shuri.

The woman rolled her eyes, "No, I didn't say that. I said, he is not fully relapsed into the winter soldier." She reclarified.

"How was this possible? I thought he was gone?" Y/N asked as her worried gaze glanced over Bucky's unmoving figure in the examination pod.

Shuri sighed as she approached her, they watched Bucky's peaceful features resting through the glass, "We only remove the trigger that were attached to a switch to activating the winter soldier from Bucky; the soldat was never gone."

Y/N's eyebrows creased as the wakandan continued to explain, "It's like removing the toggle from a light switch; you can't turn it on just like that. But if, let say we use a toothpick to poke through the hole and trigger the switch, then..."

Steve intercepted her words before she could finish, "...then it'll be turned on." The woman nodded, "Precisely."

"That does not explain why Bucky is partially... not himself." Tony quickly probed as he casually threw a red M&M's into his mouth.

Steve paced back and forth in the room as he tried to replay the day of the incident, "Maybe it has to do something in that Hydra base that we raided. Bucky did look troubled on the jet home, then when we arrived he suddenly went berserk, looking for something; well... someone". He stopped as he threw a knowing look to Y/N.

"Yeah, why he is suddenly acting lovey dovey with y/n if the soldier was triggered? I don't get it." Sam crossed his arms against his chest as he questioned.

A smile almost cracked on Shuri's lips when they mentioned that, "This is just a hypothesis; but I reckoned that Bucky knew that the soldier is slowly taking over his mind and he didn't want to let himself vulnerable, exposed for people to give him orders."

Shuri leaned her back towards the table as she continued, "So instead, he latched himself on something else, to act as his mission. Some kind of desire that's buried as deep as where his winter soldier persona was concealed."

"So, you're saying that grumpy old man's deepest, darkest desire is to suffocate y/n with kisses and cuddles?" Tony quirked his eyebrow as he chewed on the sweet chocolate snack; there was certainly sarcasm in his voice.

Y/N intictively took the nearest object within her reach, which turns out to be a thick manual book, and struck Tony on his arms. The man repulsed with a confused frown on his forehead, mouthing a soundless, "What?"

Y/N mouthed back, "Shut up!" while Sam chuckled amusingly at the silent banter between them.

Ignoring the back and forth between Y/N and Tony, Shuri answered, "Well, those urges are derived by a certain key emotion, which I'm sure put you that genius title of yours into a good use, then you should've known the answer already."

"Love." Steve's revelation cuts through before Tony could throw his banter at Shuri, "He loves y/n." He repeated his words as if all of this made absolute sense.

Which only made Y/N stop on her tracks, "He loves me?" she questioned herself but everyone in the lab can practically see the confusion on her face.

Shuri agreed to Steve's deduction, "Yes, perhaps. I supposed that is why he is protective over her and like he said, wanted to suffocate her with kisses and cuddles." Shuri pointed at Tony as she return his sarcasm.

"Wait wait wait." Y/N held her hands forward as she stepped in the middle of the conversation, "Why are we casually agreeing to that as if it's normal? I mean, I know I'm not a genius but that is absolutely ridiculous. Bucky doesn't love me, as a friend maybe, yeah, but not like that." She couldn't help but to blush as she recalled the way the soldat hands and lips mapped on her skin.

"Yes, you are absolutely not a genius, especially when you are one of the two idiots who's in love with each other." Tony casually laid out the fact as everybody in the lab nodded in agreement, including Steve who she thought would back her up.

Y/N shook her head in denial and revert the conversation back to its original destination, "So, how do we get Bucky back?"

Shuri opened the terminal screen as she watched the progress of her observation, "Well, we're still figuring that out." Y/N's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"But what I can say is, it is best to let him stick with y/n for now." Shuri concluded.

They took the whole day running tests on the soldat, which he obediently cooperate as long as Y/N was there to hold his hand.

Between resting for breakfast, lunch and snack break; the soldat spend his time to be forced to put to sleep and out of it through out the day.

Right after dinner, and the final test run, he was just left to sleep off the rest of the night and Y/N finally had time to prep herself to sleep, when she heard Bucky's voice from the bed.

"Just finished showering. Hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt, they kinda lock me in here." Y/N frowned when she thought back on how the team managed to bring most of her things over but then forgot to pack her signature iron man pyjamas.

A fond smile curved on the soldat's lips as his gaze raked over her small body wrapped in his baggy shirt, which fell right at the middle of her naked thighs.

Y/N swore that there saw a flash of Bucky in his gleaming eyes. Or maybe she was just being delusional at this point.

She let him pulled her by the hand as he slowly brought her towards him. In no time, he had them both on the comfy matteress with soldat's back propped up against the headboard, while his arms found their place around Y/N's waist, cocooning her in between his legs.

It amazes her to think how comfortable she was, being this intimately close to him; when Bucky would've been too cautious to even approach her platonically.

So she decided rather than being constantly hesitant around the soldat, she thought that she might as well just enjoy the moment as it presented itself.

Y/N's exploring eyes stopped to the side of the bed when she saw a book next to the night lamp. She reached her hand as she leaned closer.

"Prince Caspian." She whispered to herself as her fingertips grazed across the title, "The Chronicles of Narnia, huh?"

It makes sense that Bucky would be interested to read this series, knowing his quirky yet undying brag about having the experience of reading The Hobbit back when it first came out.

Y/N couldn't help but to smile to herself, especially when her train of thoughts stopped at those memories of him.

She lifted the book towards the soldat, "What do you think, Soldat? Want me to read it to you?" She asked as the soldat rested his chin on her shoulder, peering at the deep blue, hard covered book.

He briefly hummed before replying, "Yes, please." The soldat loved the idea of being able to hear more of his darling's beautiful voice. It was his favourite thing in the whole world. Well, one of the things but surely all them were involving her.

Y/N settled herself as she leaned back against his sturdy chest. One of her legs were bent up towards her chest while the other was lazily thrown over his, spreading them as far as they could go.

The soldat placed light kisses on the back of her head all the way to the side of her neck, relishing at how soft her skin was and how good she smelled. The quiet of the room only enhanced the presence of her calming voice, luring him to close his eyes as he drowned himself the melody of it.

Minutes gone by and it was passing the half hour mark.

It wasn't that the soldat find the story boring or her voice drowsying, but he was feeling rather needy, almost greedy, to have more of Y/N to the point that he got slightly distracted.

She had been such a darling to him ever since he came home; fed him, letting him touch her, kiss her, pamper her, held her hand during those long lab tests, having her in his arms through the night and against his nightmare, and making him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

And yet, she didn't get anything in return.

His darling deserved to feel good and he wanted to give it to her so badly that he was getting distracted from the story that she was passionately reading for him.

Soldat's hands carefully explored her body, from the side of her waist then slowly down to her naked thighs. Too engrossed with the plot, she almost instinctively opened her legs wider for him. Though she never intended to do so, her actions surely were quite sinful.

He used the opportunity to glide his metal hand deeper into her inner thighs, lightly caressing up higher towards where her thighs meet, until the tip of it brushed over her core.

Now that's when she realized the situation, her head shoot up to face him. The book in her hand almost thrown to the side as she reached to grab his, gripping it tightly as she tried to pull him away.

Failing to stop him, she whispered "W-what are you doing?" She stuttered as she felt his fingers slide across her clothed pussy.

Soldat looked down at the smaller, "Wanna make you feel good, мое Родная (my darling)" he innocently whispered back as his dangerous fingers provoked her.

When her silence remained, the soldat lifted the corner of his eyebrow in curiosity. Was she hesitating? He sees it as an opportunity to coax her to his will.

He cooed softly when he explained, "You deserve it, darling. Deserve it so much. Please, let me?" He sounded so desperate when he begs like that.

It feels like her whole body was burning, his touch were igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, but she couldn't help it.

Oh, how his fingers works wonders even with the thin fabric were blocking his access.

Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked down to her thighs. The way she was grabbing onto his hands as he moved around; it looked like she was guiding him to touch her more.

The soldat knew she was close to be tempted to submit, "I promise it'll feel good. So good." he almost growled in her ears as he saw patch of the dampness started to appear on the center her panties.

"Don't." she whispered quietly, but that only made the soldat to futher seduce her as he add more pressure on his middle finger.

She hesitated for a while before she slurred "D-don't stop." her head thrown back into his neck, finally giving in to his promise of pleasure.

Lust took over the soldat, "Gonna make you feel so good, Родная (darling). Promise gonna treat your pretty pussy right. Make her cum so hard." He whispered lovingly as his breath sends shivers down her spine.

The soldat groaned, dropping his head to her neck to press open mouthed kisses on her untainted skin as he slipped his hand into her panties.

"Already wet for me?" He chuckled, biting his lip before his long finger slid between her folds.

"Hmmm." she tried to suppressed her voice as his finger moved up and down so deliciously.

"Of course," He said with a smile. He went on to tease her sensitive clit with slow, torturous circles, which force her to close her eyes, biting down on her lip to suppress a shrill moan.

"Родная (darling)," the soldat cooed. "You can scream as loud as you want. Let me hear those pretty noises, yeah?"

Y/N thought to reply but her own breath hitches when that one finger that has been circling her hole finally dips in, proceeding to spread her open for more.

She moaned louder this time, "Soldat..." The movement was completely involuntary; when her hand latch on to hold his wrist as her thighs try to squeeze shut at the feeling of him pressing another finger into her wet stretching cunt.

But, of course he was quick to spread her legs back open, preventing her to shy away.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

The soldat nibbled on the shape of her ears as he hushed, "There, there darling. Open up for me." His two long, metal fingers thrusts and rubs the inside of her pulsating pussy, occasionally scissoring her cunt as he took her right hand into his fleshed one; intertwining her fingers with his.

Her other hand scrambled to dug into his thigh as she arched her back, grinding her hips down against his metal hand. The soldat smirked proudly at her reaction, moving his fingers a little faster, a little rougher. Just enough to make her whine and move against him in search of more stimulation.

She cried out as his thumb circled her clit, "Ahhh fuck" she moaned shamelessly, while his eyes followed each jerk of her body as if he was memorizing it all.

"Hmm, you're so wet, Родная (darling). So warm too." The soldat hissed as he felt his hand were soaking by the minute. The muffled sound of his thrusts against her wet heat filled the room.

He looked down to her hidden pussy; his hand covered by the panties she was wearing, "Look down baby, open your eyes and look down." he lured her with low groan.

Completely loss in bliss, she complied without asking any question. Both the soldat and Y/N was looking at the same sight, the same shape of his hand clinging tight to the fabric, barely hidden under the thin layer of her panties, moving up and down; in and out of her pussy.

Somehow, watching the way it moves made her closer to her orgasm.

In one swift move, the soldat lifted her slightly to pull the barrier off by the waistband. An animalistic groan rumbled from deep within his chest, when he was completely revealed to the sinful sight of her naked pussy.

So wet and full with his fingers.

The soldat teasingly entered a third finger into her, stretching her out so good that she felt tears prick her eyes. Y/N's head snapped forward along with a buck of her hips. "S-soldat,, ahhhh" Her whines grew louder than before and she felt the flame in her stomach growing yet it wasn’t enough.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

He pressed his thumb harder against her swollen clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he pumped his fingers knuckle deep in and out of her cunt, causing her to gasp from the sensation.

He twisted and curled his fingers around to find that delicious spot inside of her, giving that delicious friction as he fucked her open. The noises coming from her pussy were so lewd, so crude and it only spurred him on.

"Sounds so perfect, Родная (darling). These pretty noises from your lips up here." The soldat murmured as he kissed the corner of her lips, "and down here." his fingers pumped faster, curling over and over again, creating the lewd squelching sounds of her juices leaking out.

Almost seeing stars, Y/N moaned desperately, "Cummin',, so good, 'm cumming." Oh, how sweet does her moans sounded in the soldat's ears.

"Already, Родная (darling)?" he groaned as he felt her hole pulsated, "But you need more, little one." He persuaded her edge a little more; but with the way he was fucking into her weeping pussy, she certainly wasn't able handle it anymore.

She whined needily as she shook her head, "Wanna cum now, please soldat ohh god please please please." She begged deliriously.

The soldat hummed as he worked his fingers up her hole, "Oh darling, you don't need to beg for it. You're so precious, I'd give you anything." He mumbled against her cheek as he kisses her, "Now, cum for me. Let me see you wet my bed, Родная (darling). Go on, cum."

All words die in the back of her throat when a he cooed at her. She threw her head back as a squeak of whine dies in her mouth; eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing as the soldat makes sure that she rides out the high for as long as she should.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy. Her orgasm gushed and flowed out onto his hand, dripping on the sheet as she quietly cry out in pleasure.

"So pretty," he praised, as his fingers kept pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, "So gorgeous, cumming so hard for me," he grunts in her ears as her high begins to settle.

He pull out his fingers, leaving her feeling empty for the sudden lost of touch. But that didn't last long when he proposed something else.

"One more time Родная (darling), with me." He moaned he sunk his metal hand into his pants and pull out his aching cock. The soldat tugs himself in his palm, rubbing the wetness on his hand around his length before settling it between her throbbing cunt.

Y/N didn't manage to let our her protest when he intercepted her, "Won't put it in, darling. Just..." his words linger as he squeezed her plush thighs together, engulfing his warm cock between them, "...wanna snuggle in between your thighs, Куколка (little one)."

"So keep them pressed together, okay?" the brunnete coaxed as his hands took a hold on her,  "Will you do that for me?" The soldat asked sweetly.

She gave a small nod of affirmation, looking down at where the soldat's hands squishing both side of her thighs. The feeling of his length throbbing, wet with her slick, had her squeezing her thighs together more.

"That's my sweet girl. Promise you, it'll feel so good, darling." He let out a pleasurable groan as his hips jerked all the way forward, his skin meeting the back of her thighs while the head of his cock was peeking out from the other side.

With a squeeze of her hips in his hands, that will definitely leave bruises afterwards, he started to grind her into him. Back and forth, for the few experimental thrusts. And the moment her pretty little moans started to spill, he knew she needed more.

"More?" he moaned lowly, rocking his hips mindlessly.

Y/N limped back against his chest, whimpering sweetly for him as her needy little cunt drools messily all over her thighs and his cock; effortlessly making the thrust of his length between her thighs even easier.

If she was already so sensitve from him fingers before, now it's just oversimulating for her, "Hmm,, s-soldat,, that feels s-so good," she slurred, eyes rolling back.

"Yeah?" he gloated as he grunts, "Are you gonna cum again, darling? Come on, sweet one, I want to feel it." The soldat almost whimpered as he felt the thudding beat of her cunt on the stroke of his cock.

Y/N simply nodded, mouth falling open. His cock works over her sweet little pussy, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerve as he urged her to orgasm alongside his own.

He watched the way she drag her nails into the flesh of his thighs, "There she is, come on. Let it out, darling. That's it. Hmmm." His chest rumbled a deep groan. It was such a turned on for the soldat, to see the sight of him humping her legs faster until her slick finally wetting her thighs and his cock, making a mess everywhere.

Even if she has reached her high, his thrusts didn't flatter as his own orgasm was still at the edge. "Ahh,, darling,, please-- c-can't stop,," The upperside of his cock harshly rubbed between her sloppy folds, the feeling of the creamy mess between her thighs, making him fucked her faster.

The soldat whined needily into her neck as he drag her tightness back and forth. "So good, don't wanna stop." he squirmed as his voice hitched into a needy whimper, letting his head fall back to the headboard, his disheveled hair hanging by his face, some of it sticking onto his sweaty skin.

The room echoed with the several sinful sounds; his whimpers, her mewls, their skins slapping, the bed creaking, the wetness squelching.

It was such a dream for the soldat, especially when her folds spread around his fat cock every time he rolled his hips forward. The sight was beyond compelling, addictive to a certain extend.

"S-soldat,, please i'm,,hmmm,, sensitive." She can feel how thighs burned from the friction, and her slit abused with pleasure.

The soldat leaned into her until his hot breath blew across her neck, "Just a little more, Родная (darling)? Please? Wanna cum around your soft thighs, between your pretty pussy. You'll let me, right sweet one? You'll let me make a mess all over you? Paint you with my cum. You'll look so gorgeous, Родная (darling)"

His filthy thoughts started to spill out uncontrollably, as his body trembled in pure pleasure. His heaving chest rested on her small back when he whimpered, almost forcing her on her knees, pushing her down the mattress.

He wanted that so bad.

Just fuck her thighs and folds while she's on all fours, abusing her body for his pleasure and maybe slot the tip of his cock inside that tight cunt just before he cum, give that greedy little cunt a taste of his load, but he rather than that the soldat hold back on his thought, because truthfully he very much wanted to make a mess all over her right now.

His mouth sucking on her neck, leaving another one of his mark on her skin; one of many between those shades of purples and reds.

"Cumming for you, darling." He moaned loudly, eyes locked between her thighs, as his leaking cockhead occasionally peeks out. "Have so much cum for you,, gonna cream all over these thighs" He groaned, clenching his teeth as his cock throbs.

She clenched tighter as a unexpected orgasm were coming fast, letting out a desperate squeal as she reach her high. He growled at the feeling of her gushing pussy, fucking their orgasm into a higher level ecstacy.

The rolls of his hips were flattering into a slower and and sensual tempo, as both of them watched his cock; the way it pulsed and throbbed wildly, before white spurts of his hot cum started gushing from the little slit.

The soldat trembled through his orgasm, mouth falling open as he moaned lewdly at the sight of her skin being painted by his seemingly endless amount of cum.

Y/N panted heavily as her lips hanged open; failed words just at the tips of her tongue, unable to be formed properly. It didn't take long for the drowsiness to cloud her eyes, caused by the aftershock of the pleasure.

"There, there." The soldat cooed breathlessly in her ear, "So pretty, darling." Pampering the mark on her skin with gentle kisses, "So good for me." He mumbled as he languidly thrusts his cock, stroking the sides of her thighs, memorizing the sight of their wet mess.

Her body felt so good and satisfied, and the lid of her eyes slowly flutter into a longer close. She didn't hear much of his praises as he as laid her down, especially when his voice going in and out of her ears, as she was fighting through the temptation of slumber.

But, her body absolutely remembered how soft his touches on her skin, and the warm of the wet cloth swiping on the burn of her inner thighs, carefully over her swollen cunt.

"Love you, my precious darling." She couldn't make up what he was whispering under his breath. But she remembered the soldat pulling her close to his chest as he laid her on top of him, and the sweet kiss on her forehead before complete darkness engulf her sight.

"Your soldat loves you so much."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

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[delulu-with-wandanat]

Tainted Past

Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader

A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')

Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.

Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,

"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."

"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."

"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.

"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.

"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.

"What?"

"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.

Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.

She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.

"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.

"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.

The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.

"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.

"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.

"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."

"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.

"I'm assuming you would need my name-"

"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."

Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...

Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.

Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.

"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.

As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.

Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...

ᗢ----------ᗢ

Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.

I just wanted to buy some ramen...

He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.

"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.

He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.

"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.

"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"

"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.

"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"

"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.

"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-

They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-

"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.

"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.

As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-

"There you are!"

A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.

"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."

Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"

"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"

Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?

"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."

"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.

"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.

"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.

"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."

Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.

"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??

"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-

"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!

Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...

---

For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.

He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...

Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.

So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.

Eugh...

It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.

"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."

"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.

"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."

Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.

"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."

"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.

Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."

"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"

"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."

"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget..."

"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."

He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.

"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."

ᗢ----------ᗢ

I am one mad son of a bitch.

They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-

"I'll be right there!"

Fuck!

Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."

Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"

They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.

The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...

"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.

Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.

And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.

"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.

If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.

"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"

Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."

It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."

"I love the Beatles."

"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.

She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.

Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.

The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"

They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."

Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-

Why am I thinking about her like this?

"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.

"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."

The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.

"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.

"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.

Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.

Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."

"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"

Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.

"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."

She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"

"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.

She's so cute when she laughs.

"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"

"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.

She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."

"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"

The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.

Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.

Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.

The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.

Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.

They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.

"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.

"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."

"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."

"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.

"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!

Smut next chapter homie? 👀

[fr3akho3]

Locker room luck.

Summer Smut day 1: Accidental nudity

Warnings: Accidental nudity (Theo), angry sex, Theo fucking his anger out onto you, unprotected sex, oral sex, shushing moans, use of nicknames, use of Y/n, hickeys, public indecency, fingering

Pair: Theodore Nott X reader

Based off this TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNaAsCwq/

1.5k words

He had gotten the snitch. Harry fucking Potter had gotten the snitch. Harry Potter had bumped your boyfriend off his broomstick, in which he had time to fly quickly across the field to gain the upper hand and get ahold of the snitch; causing the Slytherin team to lose the game to none other than Gryfndors.

Your eyes widened as you realized what happened; you no longer cared about the game but about the wellbeing of Theo. You quickly ran from the stands to the bathroom as the game ended and the audience and players started to head back to their respective dorms. Theo or the other Slytherin boys are nowhere to be found.

In a quick jolt of anger, you went to the restroom to wash your face and cool off. He’s alright. It’s Theo, he can take it. He can take a hit. He’s fine. You hoped deep down he would be fine. Part of you knew he had to be found, the hit itself wasn’t bad but it was the anger he had towards losing that had you frightened. What if he siked himself out and was spiraling?

As you stand in the doorway of the women’s restroom, you look up when you hear banter and arguing. It wasn’t the women’s restroom, it was the current locker room of the perpetually angered Slytherin boy's quidditch team. They all had the same verbatim look on their face. One of dudgeon and frustration. You stand in shock and your eyes scan the room looking for your boyfriend, that’s when your eyes are brought to a corner of the room, he is already staring at you with a hungry look on his face, his towel being the only thing covering him, he notices you notice him and slams his cigarette down against the locker and steps on it flag as he charged towards you quickly, still holding his towel to his hips.

“Principessa, I’m gonna fucking have my way with you and you’re not gonna complain, understand?” He asked more of a statement than a question, you nodded in agreement as he dragged you out of the men’s locker room and into the vacant women’s one next door.

Theo quickly found an empty stall and stripped you of his jersey and your jeans, he palmed you through your soaked underwear and quickly undid your bra.

“I’m gonna fuck you until your pussies pink? Do you like that? How I’m gonna use you, fuck- take my loss out on you? I don’t fucking lose, Bella.” He dropped the towel quickly, his threats were never serious, he’d never hurt you, especially in such an intimate way, but waves of arousal came to you always as he threatened such harsh treatment onto you.

“Theo, I know you don’t lose, ah-, but fuck, did Harry get you, knocked you off your broom, made you look weak.” You teased him over his loss-making his eyes go berserk as he ripped your panties off your legs, discarding them on the ground

He grabbed your nipples as he dropped his towel to the floor, you went on your toes as he pulled both your nipples upwards and you let out a freakish moan.

“Talk like a slut, get treated like one, baby.” Theo stopped toying your entrance with his fingers as propped you up against the wall, lifting you by your thighs and shoving his erect penis into you.

One. Two. Three strokes

Thommph…thommph…thommph

Awgh- Ngh- ah-

The sounds of your moans being hushed as he shoves his fingers in your mouth

“Suck. Suck like the fucking slut you are. I wanna hear a fucking apology.” He shoves his fingers in your mouth carefully and you moan out from the stimulation.

“Baby, fuck- you…your the best I’ve had, fuck me harder, please baby, I need you right now, your the best I’ve had, please baby boy” you beg out for him to go harder on you.

He picks you up and the stall door flies open, he quickly finds a bench in the locker room and slams you down onto it, bending you over.

“Bend over and spread em’ now.” As you do as he says he doesn’t give you time to adjust as you find yourself gasping for air.

The loud sounds of his skin slapping get faster and faster, back to back, not giving himself or you a break.

Thwack, you let out a loud moan as he slaps your ass and takes control of your hips, slamming you down against his hard-on.

“Tell me your mine and only mine, not fucking Potters, not a stupid fucking Gryffindor, tell me who you’re fucking, let everyone know what kind of slut you are. Fucking say it.”

“Fuck, Theo! I’m yours! I’m fucking yours! Ngh- please baby, I love you! I love you so fucking much!” He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand and slams your hips down onto his, he pulls you back by your hair and nibbles your neck. He uses your hair like a leash to keep you close as his hands move to your nipples. Abusing the soft tissue till it swells up.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ mine baby? You fuckin slut. I want you to say it, everyone can fuckin hear you, you know that? I’m fucking you, anyone can walk in and see a messy slut who can’t even keep her mascara on her face. I don’t fucking lose Y/n, especially not with my girl watching. Not mi bella.“ he grunts faster and faster letting go of your nipples and going down to your chit, he quickly lets go and flips you onto your back.

He takes a minute to adjust, slapping your thighs and your clit as he spreads your sore and shaking legs open.

“You think his dick is this big baby? You think Potter or any of the guys I saw you stare at in the locker room could do this to you, oh for fucks sake, mi fai impazzire cara, you hear that Bella? You drive me fuckin insane,” he slaps your thighs again, this time he puts his hands firmly on your upper and inner thighs to keep them separate while he slowly licks up and down your folds. Your fingers tangle in his soft hair as he’s down on his knees, watching the wetness trail down your thighs.

His pace slows for a second as you let out a nasty moan, he quickly covers your mouth with one hand as he looks up at you and forces you to make eye contact with him. You can hear others outside the room, praying they won’t walk in or hear you. He gives you a warning look as he keeps your mouth covered, waiting until the noise subsides.

As it does, you mutter out, “Theo, hurry- fuck it feels so good~”. The sensations intensify as he laps at your sore cunt, you groan, pushing him urgently into your dripping core and making him moan in pleasure. He's sucking on your clit with such passion you grip his hair in gratitude. You fling your head back at the feeling of pleasure dripping down from your core.

He immediately slips two fingers into you at once feeling how close you are, forcing you to grab the edge of the bench with all your might and exhale shakily at the sensation. He finds your G-spot with ease, long fingers curving up as the tips of his digits graze against your sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Are you going to cum, Principessa? almost breaking my fuckin' fingers with how firmly you're squeezing around them." He groans against your core, making your legs tremble. You feel your body weaken as his dexterous fingers speed up, furiously pressing against your g-spot while his lips suck on your clit. You can virtually feel him smirking on your cheek, relishing how you react to his touch.

"I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna cum," you moan as Theo continues to sloppily eat you out and finger you at the same time, his saliva and your juices dripping down his chin. He effortlessly drives you over the edge, and your orgasm floods over you, causing you to arch your back.

Cum was running down your legs, a mix of your own and his precum, he quickly got you up by your hair and nipples to sit up while dripping on the bench.

He chuckled as he kept you up, slapping the side of your face with his dick until you opened your mouth. “Principessa? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can go gentle for now?”

You shake your head no as you slowly swirl your tongue on his tip and he slams your head down toward his public area

He was a goner, his loud moans and his big hands gripping your scalp as you felt the hot gooey liquid drip down your thirsty throat.

He quickly helps you up and picks up his towel to clean up the mess he made with you

“Shower together, good girl?” He looks at you with a grin and picks you up happily as you both enter the locker room showers. “You’ll be the death of me, my beautiful girl. Always making me feel better.”

Authors note: so what do we think?? Any concerns or comments please feel free to let me know! Also if you’d like to be added to the taglist!! comment or contact me!

[probablyspooky]

Traitor (2010 Predator X Fem! Reader) Pt.3 Final

Its Time girly Pops

Last

"Yes love?", you ask, sitting up from your nest of furs and pelts, your mate slowly lowers himself to you.

"We are leaving...", he mumbled, "This trip was not successful, I was wrong to bring you here, I will take you home, and then come back alone when I can get a second chance"

You sighed, cupping your mates face, giving him a gentle kiss on the armored mask.

"Very well," you agreed, getting up from your nest, packing your items and then eventually getting on the ship and taking off back home.

It was a short trip back, you felt back you had ruined the trip by basically getting kidnapped by the game. Berserker could sense your sadness and promised that when you returned back to the clan, he would have a young one go to Earth and bring you back some nice Earth things, so that you could see some of the things that hail from your home planet. You smiled at this thought and proceeded to snuggle into your mates chest as he sat in the command room.

The return home was uneventful, as you were usually allowed to walk around, the first couple weeks home you weren't feeling so well. Often spending your mornings vomiting outside in the bushes, sleeping till noon, and eating weird foods that were even considered odd in yautja culture.

Berserker got quite nervous when you started getting moody, you never seemed to lash out at him, as you were afraid of upsetting him, but now you were a bit more annoyed at his mating advances, often refusing to go along with him on small hunts.

Worried you may have caught a strong virus, he took you to the clans healers, and the news was wonderful.

You were pregnant.

Your mates mandibles clicked with joy, and he purred into you, his claws grazing over your stomach gently, happy with the news he threw together a hunting party and went off into the local wilderness to find the largest animal he could to serve to you, as per tradition (that I made up).

He returned victorious, slaying the beast and presenting its skull and spine to you. It now hangs over the area where you decided to put your younglings sleeping bed.

Eventually as things go, days become weeks, and weeks become months, soon you were very swollen with child, carrying a yautja pup was very hard on your body, as you progressed you slowly began to slow down, not going out to hunt, you stopped doing chores, tending to be on bedrest more often that usual.

One day, while you were in a heated herbal bath, Berserker came in and joined you, causing the water to swish over a bit, he swayed over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his large hands over your stomach.

"(y/n)", he whispered, taking in a breathe of your hair.

"Yes love?" you ask, turning your head to look at him closer.

"The hunting spot came up again...I wish to go, but I will not go if you find it unacceptable for me to go."

You thought for a moment, as it took so long for him to get the spot for himself the first time, and now here you were ready to pop at any moment. Not wanting to be selfish you agreed that he could go, and that you would be fine.

Watching him, Tusk, and Falcon leave was a little heart breaking, you spent the time alone, thinking of names for the baby, learning to write in their language, and learning how to read their machines, as soon you would have your one communicator bracelet, so that when your mate goes off planet, you could still talk to him while he was gone.

He wasn't gone very long this time, he returned after a few days, you were so happy when you heard the news you waited at the landing dock for him to return. When those ship doors opened, you saw him walk off full of pride, new trophies tied to his belt, mostly human, perhaps he had hunted those humans from before. You ran into his arms, and he hugged you back, taking you up from under your legs, holding you up with his great strength.

"Was the hunt honorable?", you asked, feeling his dreads with your hands.

He carried you back to his home.

"I have many trophies to give to you my mate," he purred, leaving Tusk and Falcon to unload the ship.

But with their arrival back, Tusk and Falcon were sought out by other yautja women, and left the ship unattended, not knowing of what they brought back with them to their home planet.

While the darkness of night overtook the sky, two people stepped off planet, truing not to be scene by the lights coming off of the ship, they quickly scurried to the Jungle Hunters Clan. Taking note of the buildings, they looked around for anyone that would be out of place, something that wouldn't be needed by full blood yautja.

These two humans who have stepped off the ship, were familiar faces that had met you before. Isabelle and Royce, they had snuck onto the ship while your mate was hunting the others, Edwin and Nikolai did not make it, but they did not seem, bothered all that much, their minds were preferably stuck on their own survival.

Quickly scanning the many homes, their eyes landed on the ones that had a set of very small shoes sat outside the door, feet too small for yautja, but big enough for an adult to wear outside to cover the soles of their feet from the spikey ground.

The two of them walked up to the door, and gently pushed it in, not having locks on doors were often common on this planet, as it was dishonorable to attack someone while they were asleep. It was a code of like that many did not dare to cross, as it would bring dishonor upon themselves and their clans.

Walking throughout the halls of the place you called home, Isabelle and Royce walked through the kitchen rea, taking note of the abundance of fruit and veggies, often things yautja do not eat frequently, then walking past a living area where they saw a CD player and some discs of random artists.

"She's definitely here.." Royce whispered, continuing the sweep of the house, his eyes landing on the back room, which its doorway was covered with a large cloth.

Royce took a few moments to sneak up to the curtain, slowly pupping it back. In the middle of the room he could see the floating nest where Berserker and you slept. The two forms sleeping away peacefully on the bed, you curled up in his arms, while his limbs danged off the sides of the nest, hovering in the air.

Royce raised his hand above your mouth about to wake you up and smother your gasp, but Isabelle quickly ran up and stopped him

"What?", he whispered, annoyed that he was stopped.

"Look at her!" Isabelle, gestured to your body, "She's pregnant! This isn't a good idea"

Royce rolled his eyes, going back to his original plans, smothering his hand over your mouth and then tapping you awake.

You jolted awake, about to scream, but you felt a warm hand covers your mouth. You looked over to the owner of the hands owner, you felt tears sting your eyes, realizing the possible predicaments you were in.

Royce signals to you to come on, and slowly eases you off the bed, and out of your mates arms, trying not to wake up, and then sneaking you out of your home, Royce dragged you to the ship and shoved you towards it, pointing a pistol at you.

"Fly us home." he ordered, pointing the gun at you,

"I do-I don't know how to fly," you stammered

"Bullshit" he snarled, pushing you inside the ship and then forcing you into the pilots seat.

You felt uneasy as you were placed in the captains chair, the familiar hologram screen appearing before you, you slowly began to type into the control console, hitting enter.

Royce looked at you expectantly, watching you push buttons with symbols that didn't make sense to him at all, watching you hit the enter key, hoping that soon the ship would take off and they would be on their way way home. Yet nothing happened.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled, shoving your shoulder

"I don't know how to fly!" you cried,

"Royce, c'mon" Isabelle remarked, placing hand on your shoulder

Royce stomped back and forth, and looking out the open door of the ship, he began to see lights turn on, as yautja began to run towards the ship, his brain clicked.

Grabbing you by the hair, he dragged you to the front of the doors and threw you on the ground, you fell to the ground shielding your stomach from the fall.

"She fucking alerted them" Royce growled, pointing the pistol at the back of your head.

You looked up to see Berserker run at you, behind him Tusk and Falcon followed, along with other blooded members of the tribe.

Royce fired a warning shot a few inches away from your head, forcing all the yautja to stop in their tracks.

"Fucking traitor to your race," Royce spit at you, looking up at the yautja who were staring him down.

"I want to go home!," he shouted, "If I don't get to go home, neither does she"

You half expected for Berserker to have some sort of plan in dealing with this, but instead he slowly popped off his armored helmet, dropped his utilities belt, and walked up slowly towards the three of you. Isabelle had her gun pointed at your mate the whole time.

Clicking can be heard coming from your mates mandibles, as he pointed towards the captains chair, he calmly walked onto the ship, and silently typed on the keyboard, the rumbling of the ship started, indicating it was taking off.

Berserker then walked back, and picked you up slowly, not taking his eyes off of Royce and Isabelle. The ships door began to slowly shut, and since their window was closing, the two of them quickly hopped aboard the ship, and it slowly made its way off of the ground, and then eventually was floating through the air. Its thrusters slowly increasing in power.

As the thrusters began to glow a bright orange, your mate held his arm out in front of you, a single symbol was on his wrist brand, you looked at him and then at the ship. Smiling while doing so, you pushed the button, and together you watched the ship prepare are for takeoff, and then self detonate in the sky.

The clan erupted with roars and growls, chanting at the death of these humans who dared try and hold you hostage on their turf.

A part of you felt bad, you had just murdered the nicest human you've ever known, the first few humans you had met who had actually been to earth. Maybe you were a traitor to your race, but you were reassured, as the next days you found yourself in labor, and after that, you held close to your chest a small suckling, who was identical to his father.

Having his wrapped to your chest constantly apparently was a weird sight, as most mother of yautja did not care for their children the same way you did, but you didn't care, as your instincts were different, you were different.

He was the Berserker predator, and you his mate, the two of you from different sides of the planet.

One a grand warrior to his people and his race, and the other a loving mother, traitor to hers.

They were happy

I don't know what else to put here

[pfpanimes]

⌕ bungo stray dogs • kunikida.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[marblemoovt]

Love Triangle - Griffith/Reader/Guts

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Graphic depictions of Violence. Attempted Rape/Non-Con. Fluff. Angst (Happy ending)

Summary:

The events of Berserk up until just after the eclipse with the reader. (I honestly cannot summarize this well enough, but just give it a shot)

------

“But what about Griffith? Casca? The men in your unit?”

Guts smiles and shrugs. “They’ll be fine without me.”

You stare at the ground and fidget with your fingers. “What about me?” you ask in a quiet voice. When you dare to look up, he looks conflicted, And for a second, you actually think he’ll stay.

“…Come with me then,” he suggests.

You blink owlishly at him. “Sorry?”

“Come with me. We can travel together and look for our own dreams.” He looks so earnest that it hurts to turn down his offer.

“Guts, you know I can’t leave.” You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. The thought of leaving Griffith is too much to bear.

Guts furrows his brows. “We both know that’s bullshit. It’s only a matter of if you want to.”

Note:

This is an ask.

This took me a while to write because I kept getting ideas. Honestly, I'm tempted to rewrite this one day as a series instead of a oneshot, just because this version feels too condensed for what I wanted to convey. I initially thought that this wouldn't be that long, and then I ended up around 11k words, so oops. My brain is very kaputt, so there's not much else I have to say right now. I did have fun writing this though, I found it interesting.

Happy reading! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“Good job, darling,” Griffith praises, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. You glance over at him with a smile. 

You sheathe your sword and wipe away the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thank you. There’s still a maneuver I struggle with,” you say. You worked on it all week, but your one swing doesn’t have as much control as you would like. 

“Perhaps I can help?” Griffith offers, and you nod gratefully. You demonstrate the move and huff in frustration when you miss your mark on the training dummy. “I see the problem.” Griffith comes up behind you and adjusts your stance. His breath tickles your ear. “You need to tilt your wrist at more of an angle.” His soft hands encompass your wrist—how can he have such delicate hands for a swordsman?? “Like this.” Griffith chuckles in bemusement, and you could have sworn the jet of air against the nape of your neck was intentional. “Try now.”

You tighten your grip on the sword and swing your arm, gasping when you cut the dummy clean across its torso. “Thank you, Sir,” you say, eyes still lingering on the deep gash you made.

“I merely guided you, dear. Take more credit for your talents,” Griffith says. You nod mutely and glance over your shoulder, scrambling away from him when your nose almost brushes against his. He merely flashes his usual smile and walks away to talk to the other members. You’re too lost in your head that you don’t notice Guts approaching you.

“I see you finally managed to perfect your swing,” Guts says, tilting his head towards the dummy. You grin and bounce on the balls of your feet.

“Yeah! Griffith helped me. Wanna see it?” you ask. The stiffening of his jaw is too subtle for you to notice. You’re too caught up in your excitement and the adrenaline from being close to Griffith.

“Alright, show me what you got.” Guts crosses his arms and waits expectantly. You take a deep breath and resume your stance, angling your wrist like earlier. One swing later, the dummy has another gash across its chest. You turn to Guts, the grin on your face faltering when you take in his unimpressed expression. He hums and says, “while that was a good swing, it won’t work in battle unless your enemy is unarmoured. But every armour has its weak spots.” Guts pulls out his sword and decapitates the dummy in a single swipe. “Like the neck.”

Your lips pinch together, but you manage a weak smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You thank him for the advice and excuse yourself under the pretence of fetching a new dummy. Walking past the shed where the dummies are kept, you stop at the bench where you left your belongings. Taking a swig from your waterskin, you douse the remainder on your head to cool yourself off. You run a hand down your face, jumping out of your skin when Griffith appears in front of you. 

“I do apologize for Guts’s behaviour. He’s not very adept at matters of the heart,” Griffith says. His hair is bright underneath the sun, and you’re momentarily blinded by his beauty. 

“I-I don’t quite understand,” you say. Since when did training fall under the category of feelings?

Griffith’s lips turn up in a gentle curve, and he pats your head. “I’m sure he meant to praise you in his own roundabout way,” Griffith says, wiping a drop of water that was about to drip off your chin. You shudder from the contact and cannot control the colour of your face. He seems pleased by your reaction and adds, “you did wonderful, darling.”

“I-I did?” It takes all your brain cells to say those two words. You can only stare like a startled deer. His touch still lingers on your chin, the rough pad of his thumb caressing your skin. 

“Of course. Our enemies will never know what hit them. The Grim Reapers of the Battlefield and you, my Scythe.” The grin on his face is soft, but you can’t shake off the predatorial feeling. He’s never called you that before. A title makes you feel important; it gives you a purpose. You understand that Griffith has a dream, an ambitious one at that. Maybe this is his way of keeping you by his side. 

“I won’t let you down,” you say, straightening your back.

Griffith chuckles and says, “Of course, dear. You never fail to exceed my expectations.” And this time, the smile reaches his eyes. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you forget your feelings of uneasiness. He kisses your cheek, and it’s the most open he’s been with his affection for you. You don’t have a label for what you two are. You obviously like him more than a friend, and he seems to reciprocate those feelings. But you’re too afraid to ask what you mean to him. Because what if you’re deluding yourself into thinking he likes you back?

“What are we?” The words tumble from your lips before you realize they’re coming out. 

Griffith tilts his head to the side. “That’s quite a philosophical question,” he remarks.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “N-no. I meant us. What’s going on between us? You clearly know how I feel about you.” Your anxiety spikes when he doesn’t respond. “I can pretend nothing ever happened if that’s what you prefer,” you add.

“What do you want us to be?” Griffith asks.

You furrow your brows. “Does my opinion really matter?” He has the power in this conversation, not you. It doesn’t matter how much you love him. Your love does nothing unless he accepts it.

Griffith smiles, and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “I want to hear you say it,” he says. His eyes burn into you, and you feel so naked under his gaze. A part of you is thrilled by the attention. He must like you to some capacity if he can look at you with such intensity.

Emboldened by his stare, you say, “I want us to be lovers.”

He bows and kisses the back of your hand. “Then your wish is my command. Come by my tent tonight,” Griffith commands. Your shoulders tense, and a chill washes over you.

You lick your lips and hesitantly part them. “Griffith, when I said lovers, I didn’t solely mean sex.” You didn’t want to be used and thrown away. The lustful stares you’ve received from others are frightening. Enemies on the battlefield have sneered at you and made taunts about what they’ll do to you once they win. The nobles that Griffith deals with are not subtle at all in their advances. This is not to say that you are the most attractive person in the land—no, that title is taken by Griffith—but that humans can be awful and scummy creatures.

Griffith hums. “You desire to be my partner, do you not? There are many other activities to do during the evening. I apologize if my intentions came off as otherwise.” He makes it sound like it's your fault, but you apologize like the fool you are.

You quickly throw your hands up and sputter, “Oh, no! I’m sorry for assuming!”

Griffith strokes your arm, and a soft smile tugs his lips. You breathe out a sigh of relief; he forgives you. “Then I look forward to your company later,” he says, grinning in a cat-like manner.

You watch as Griffith walks away. In the corner of your vision, you notice Casca glaring at you. What’s her problem?

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“You’ll freeze to death if you keep standing out there,” Guts says, observing your shivering form. You rub your hands together, hoping the friction will thaw the numbness gnawing into your bones.

“I was going to enter… eventually,” you say, pausing when you hear the gentle slosh of liquid. “What are—“

He holds out a mug and says, “It’s for you. Thought some cider would help you warm up.” This is probably the kindest thing Guts has ever done for you. You gratefully accept the drink and groan when your fingers wrap around the hot cup. Blowing on the surface of the cider, you take a small sip and feel the warm liquid flow down your throat and into your stomach. Warmth pools in your belly and the rest of your body heats up.

“I…. Thank you,” you whisper. You almost hope that Guts didn’t hear it because it was embarrassing, but the soft lines in his features say otherwise. You’re halfway through your cider, making small talk with Guts. He asks you about your hobbies and what you did before joining the band. You learn how he was picked up and raised by mercenaries. You vocalize your admiration for his tenacity. It requires tremendous strength to endure such hardships as a child and learn to grow from them. Guts is left speechless after your little ramble.

“Darling, there you are. Please, come inside. You’re shivering.” Griffith fusses over you. You actually feel quite warm now thanks to the cider from Guts. Griffith takes your hand and tugs you toward his tent. You smile and wave goodbye to Guts, thanking him for helping you warm up. He nods stoically and stands there, watching you disappear into the tent before stalking off toward the campfires.

“Griffith, your hand is squeezing too tight,” you say. A grimace forms on your face, and your hand throbs from the pressure. He doesn’t say anything but loosens his grip. You observe the inside of his tent. It’s modest since the camp is relocated often, but the tent is full of his scent. You’re too preoccupied to notice when he takes the unfinished drink from your hands and empties it into the dirt.

“Can I get you anything to drink, dear?” Griffith asks, already browsing through his wine collection. 

You shake your head. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t drink. My tolerance is weak.” You want to be completely sober tonight. Alcohol will only make you feel awful the next morning with little recollection of the previous night.

Griffith tuts, and there’s disappointment in his tone. “Come now. Let us celebrate our budding relationship. Don’t make me drink by myself,” he frowns. 

You bite your lip and mull over it, but you eventually shake your head. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to drink alcohol tonight.”

“Just one glass, please?” Griffith gives you a pleading look, and your resolve crumbles.

You sigh and relent. “I guess one glass wouldn’t hurt.”

Griffith grins and pours you a drink. You swirl the maroon liquid and inhale its sweet aroma. Taking tiny sips, you pace yourself. The wine is nice and most likely very expensive. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth at the revelation that it was probably a gift from a noble. You always thought something was off about the way they treated Griffith.

You set down your half-finished wine and lick the remaining sweetness from your lips. You catch Griffith's gaze, and he’s staring at you intently. Heat floods your body. Whether from embarrassment or alcohol, you’re not sure. He stands up and towers over you. You look up and lose yourself in his blue eyes.

“A toast to us,” he says, holding his drink out. A slight frown forms on your lips, but you pick up your wine and clink your glasses together. After another sip, a familiar fuzziness blankets your mind. You hum and curl up in your seat. The room begins shifting and morphing in your vision. 

“I think I’ve had a bit too much.” You try hard not to slur your words.

Griffith lifts your cup to your lips and says, “You’re almost done. Let’s not waste such fine wine.”

You pout. “Can’t you drink the rest for me?”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest? It’s only a few sips.”

You shake your head. “Don’t want anymore. Head’s fuzzy now.”

“Alright, darling.” He takes your glass from you and finishes your drink.

You rub your eyes and blink to clear your vision. “Can you hold me?” you request, holding your arms out like a small child. 

“I would love to. Come here, darling.” Griffith picks you up and walks over to his cot. It’s a tight fit, but there’s enough room for two. He cradles you to his chest, and you soak in his warmth. His hair tickles your face, and you brush the fair locks away with a giggle. 

You look up at Griffith to see him smiling fondly down at you. “This is nice,” you say, playing with a strand of his hair. 

“Yes, it is.” His breath fans across your face, and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. You giggle from how it tickles, your skin tingling with electric sparks. His lips hover in front of yours, and he looks at you for permission. 

“Please kiss me,” you whisper. His sharp inhale eases some of your anxiety. He wants this as much as you do. You wait with bated breath. Should you be the one to close the gap? 

His lips make contact with yours before you can mull over the idea much longer. He tastes sweet like the wine from earlier. His fingers thread your hair, and he kisses you like a starved man. He devours you, nipping softly at your bottom lip. You groan, and he slips his tongue inside to explore your mouth. The sensation is foreign but not unpleasant. In fact, a shiver runs down your spine when he licks your gums and teeth. 

An idea pops into your head, and you suckle on his tongue, resulting in your scalp stinging. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Griffith groans. You pant and catch your breath, beaming a smile at him. He shifts so that you’re underneath him now. His arms form a cage around your body. He peppers kisses along your jawline before trailing down your neck. Your skin burns every time his lips make contact. You moan his name softly, and he slips a hand beneath your shirt. 

You tense up and shove him back. “Wait! I’m sorry. I’m not—I’m not ready for that,” you stammer. You’re afraid to be another conquest. Everything feels like it’s moving too fast. You bite your lip and blink furiously. Griffith looks at you with wide eyes, taken aback by the sudden stop.

He coos and caresses your cheek when your eyes glisten with tears. “That’s alright. Sleeping with you in my arms is enough. I would never force you into something so intimate without your consent.”

“Promise?” You stare into his blue eyes, and they crinkle at the corners. He kisses your forehead.

“I swear on it,” he promises. And you believe him.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Almost a year has passed since that night in Griffith’s tent. While you’ve given and received pleasure, you still haven’t gone all the way. That’s not to say you’re a prude, but you still worry about how penetrative sex will change your dynamic with Griffith. Yes, you love him. And yes, he loves you too. But will his feelings change once you allow him to see your most vulnerable parts? Will he decide that you no longer deserve a place in his dream? Being discarded is one of your worst fears.

The band mostly comprises of men, and some of their views are… crude, to put it lightly. Honestly, how they can lust after people like they’re mere objects leaves an uneasy ache in your stomach. The love you see in this world is not always idyllic; it rarely is. So you developed a fear of getting too close to people. Because deeper connections lead to stronger heartbreak when they inevitably betray your trust. But then came Griffith, and you knew you were helpless.

Despite this, Griffith has never complained. He never pushes you further than you’re willing to go, and he always leaves you thoroughly satisfied. He seems content with the way things are. Every night spent in his arms leaves you feeling safe and loved.

You always supported Griffith’s dream. So when he was granted a noble title, you were ecstatic for him. He’s one step closer to achieving his goal. But then he stopped coming home at night. He started disappearing for days without leaving an explanation for his whereabouts. You don’t want to embarrass him by frantically searching the castle grounds, so you spend many nights waiting for him in your shared room until you pass out in an armchair or in bed. The others don’t say anything, but you can feel their pitiful gazes when they think you’re not looking.

These days you tend to avoid everyone, and they give you your space. But it seems like the only one who won’t leave you alone is Guts. Whenever you’re wallowing in the corner of a tavern or wandering aimlessly through the streets, he always finds you. At first, you ignored him, but his company wasn’t unwelcome. There isn’t the desire to impress or strive for perfection that comes with Griffith. With Guts, you’re allowed to just exist. He doesn’t expect anything from you, and that’s very liberating.

Today is one of your wandering days. Griffith didn’t come back last night. Again. The weather is growing colder, so you bundle yourself up before heading outside. You snag one of Griffith’s scarves and blink back tears when his scent encompasses you. The wind whips through your hair, but you only tighten the scarf around your neck and trudge forward. You avoid the square, not wanting to be surrounded by people. You decide to walk towards the gardens today. The collage of red, orange, and yellow might brighten your mood. Luckily, the gardens are empty. Everyone must be in the marketplace preparing for winter or warming up in the shops.

You find a bench near a tall oak tree. Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the wind sends a couple dancing through the air. You take a seat and wrap your jacket tighter around your body. Your fingertips tingle, and you scold yourself for forgetting to bring gloves. Although your mind has been drifting lately.

“Mind if I join ya?” You turn in the direction of the voice and see Guts. He’s holding two cups in his hands.

“You can if one of those is for me,” you reply, rubbing your hands together. He sits beside you and hands you the steaming drink. “Cider?” you ask, sniffing the cup. Instead of smelling apples, there’s a dark, rich scent. You’ve only smelled something similar on rare occasions. “Is this?”

“Chocolate. Hot chocolate. I know you don’t care much for ale, and I’m sure you’re sick of cider.” Guts shrugs and takes a sip. His pleased expression makes you curious. You always find chocolate bitter, and the sweeter options are ridiculously overpriced because of sugar. He watches with an amused smile as you inspect the drink in your hand. “It ain’t gonna bite.”

You stick your tongue out at him and bring the cup to your lips. You tilt it slowly to avoid burning yourself. The hot chocolate glides smoothly down your throat, and your tastebuds feel delighted. It’s not bitter, but it’s not overly sweet. The richness of the chocolate is tamed by the warm cream, and there’s just enough sugar to make it enjoyable. You make a happy noise and take another sip.

“Good?” Guts asks, and you nod your head enthusiastically. The hot chocolate is still too hot, so you use it as a hand warmer until you can drink it without scalding your tongue.

“What brings you here?” you ask. You don’t keep track of what everyone else does in their spare time, but Guts doesn’t seem like the type to spend it in the gardens.

“That little guy over there,” he answers, pointing a finger to the tree near the bench. You look and see nothing out of the ordinary and turn back to him with confusion.

“The tree?” You hope you’re wrong, although it would be hilarious if you weren’t.

“Shh, no. Look again,” he says. You shrug and look at the tree, scanning its long trunk and colourfully decorated branches. Something moves in the corner of your vision. You narrow it down to one of the lower-hanging branches. There’s a tail flickering from side to side??

Guts whistles, and a cat jumps down from the tree. Its orange fur camouflages it perfectly amongst the leaves. The cat struts over but pauses when it sees you. You freeze, not wanting to startle the creature.

“S’alright, boy. Nothin’ to worry about. Brought a friend with me today,” Guts speaks in a soft tone. You’re honestly surprised he can sound so gentle. The cat eyes you warily but pads forward and hops onto Guts’s lap. He scratches the cat's head before stroking down his back. A low purr rumbles along with the wind. You stare in awe at the scene in front of you. Guts grins when he notices your expression. 

You feel your lips curling up into a smile. “Does he have a name?” you ask, but Guts shakes his head. 

“He’s a stray. Didn’t wanna name him in case I got too attached,” he replies. You nod in understanding, glancing at the cat enviously. Guts chuckles and asks, “do ya wanna pet him?” 

“May I? What if he doesn’t like me?” You roll your bottom lip between your teeth, drumming your fingers against your cup.

“Just gotta move slowly. Let him sniff ya a bit,” he instructs. You shift the cup and stretch out a hand, hovering it in front of the cat. A puff of air hits your skin as a wet, pink nose sniffs you hesitantly. You hold your breath, gasping when the cat rubs its fluffy head into the palm of your hand. You take it as permission to pet him and scratch behind his ears. “Cute,” Guts mumbles.

You grin and look up at Guts. “He’s adorable. I wish we could keep him,” you say, entranced by the fuzzy creature. 

“Yeah. A battlefield ain’t a place for a cat.” There’s a dip in his tone. Your smile turns bitter, and you give the cat a scritch underneath his chin.

An idea pops into your head. “We could keep him in our rooms in the capital! I think we’ve left our camping days behind us.” Your suggestion sparks Guts’s interest, which spurs you on. “He can clearly take care of himself, so we can let him out every day and ask someone to feed him when we’re away!”

“That… doesn’t sound half-bad,” he remarks. 

You bounce in your seat and plant a kiss on the top of the cat’s head, which earns you a loud purr. “Did you hear that, little guy? You’re coming home with us!”

Guts smiles in amusement and says, “Your idea; you get to name him.” 

You shake your head and laugh. “Oh, no. I’m terrible at making decisions.”

“C’mon, I’m sure ya got somethin’ in mind.”

“Hmmm. Then what about Ember?” you suggest. Guts ponders for a moment, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Since his fur is orange, it reminds me of fire,” you add as if your explanation will improve your idea.

“I like it. He’s warm like fire, too,” Guts says.

You smile. “That’s perfect for me since I’m always cold.” The sky has melted into a soft pink as the sun begins to dip. You didn’t realize so much time had passed. “I’ll go buy some things before the shop closes.” You rise from your seat and give Ember one last pet. Impulsively, you pat Guts on the head. His posture stiffens, and you giggle at how taken aback he is.

“I’ll, uh, take Ember to his new home,” he says, rising up and rushing to the exit. You watch as he scrambles frantically, stifling a laugh when he smacks into a bush. Heading to the shops, you make a mental list of the items you need. You stop by the butcher to buy some chicken and other cuts of meat you think Ember will like. Next is the general store, where you buy some blankets and bowls. Armed with bags, you head home, eager to return to your new feline friend.

You enter the building and nod your head to greet everyone you passed, beelining straight to Guts’s room. You adjust the bags in your grip and knock on the door. “It’s me,” you say. There’s a soft thump followed by a loud meow. You smile to yourself and wait patiently, hearing some scuffling and more cat noises.

“Come in. Doors not locked,” Guts says. You enter and set the bags on the ground. Ember is immediately interested in what you’ve brought him. You take out the blankets and hand them to Guts. He walks away to find a spot to place them, so you grab the bowls next and fill one of them with water. When you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of Ember sitting contently in an empty bag.

“You are so damn cute,” you whisper, crouching down for a better vantage point. Ember flops onto his side, and you squeal.

“What’s the matter?!” Guts rushes to your side, looking around the room for any threats. You point at Ember, your hands shaking from excitement. Guts turns his head, and his expression softens. “Just when I thought the fucker couldn’t get any cuter.”

You gasp and grab his arm. “I have a basket I never use. What if….” You gesture frantically towards Ember, and Guts catches on.

“He would have his own bed. And you could carry him too!” 

You snap your fingers. “Yes, exactly!! I’ll be right back!” You stand up and head to your room with a spring in your step. You hum happily and open the door, forgetting to close it in your excitement.

“And just where have you been?” You pause. You haven’t heard that voice in days—a week almost.

“Griffith?” You stare in shock. You wouldn’t blame yourself if it turns out you’re hallucinating. But Griffith is very much real and not a figment of your imagination when he invades your personal space. 

He frowns and furrows his brows. “Were you expecting someone else?” he asks. You step back, and the smile on your face falters. 

“What? Of course not. What gave you that idea?” You search his eyes and find nothing but suspicion. Does he not trust you?

“It’s alright, darling. I understand it gets lonely. I didn’t mean to leave you alone so often,” he condescends. He reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. 

White, hot anger flashes through your veins. “I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.” Your tone drops low, and Griffith smiles. 

He tilts his head to the side. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” you seethe, shoving his hand off of you. “If you actually asked anyone here how I’ve been, you would know the answer.”

“I—”

“No.” You jab a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to disappear with no explanation for, what, a week? And then come back to accuse me of cheating?” You huff and clench your fists, raising them before letting your arms fall to your sides right after. 

Griffith bristles at your raised voice. “Stop acting like a selfish child. I am doing what’s best for us. Do you know how hard I am working to improve our lives?”

“I’m not being selfish,” you say. You swallow the lump in your throat and continue, “All I ask for is a fraction of your time and affection. Countless nights going to bed and waking up alone. I’m sick of it.” You keep your tone even, refusing to let him know how much this is destroying you internally. 

Griffith scoffs, “What am I? A pet? Must I return to you every night and be at your beck and call?”

You shake your head. “I never said that. Stop twisting my words!” He does this all the time. That glib tongue of his comes in handy when interacting with the nobles. But he uses it against you to gain the upper hand in arguments. You don’t have the energy to deal with this. Today was going so well—you got to pet a cat! And now, this one interaction has soured it all. You turn towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Griffith asks. Are you running from your problems? Yes. Do you care? Not at the moment, although you’re sure you’ll regret this later. 

You glance over your shoulder. “I’m going to cool off.” You storm out, but not before grabbing the basket you came for. The door whips open from the sudden force. Your feet continue trudging with no destination in mind. Eventually, you stop in front of Guts’s room. You stand in front of the door and wait until your eyes no longer burn, breathing slowly to ease the tightness in your throat. With another deep breath, you enter the room.

“You ok?” Guts gets straight to the point. He takes in your expression and curses under his breath. “Stupid question. Course you aren’t.” You hate how gentle his tone is. You don’t want to be treated like a wounded animal. 

“He just makes me so mad sometimes,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. Gravity works against you, and your tears still fall. Guts walks up to you but lingers around an invisible threshold. He looks conflicted. Like he wants to comfort you but is afraid to get too close. He remains an arms-length away 

Guts opens and closes his mouth. You can see he’s cycling through various things to say, and you appreciate his thoughtfulness. “Cause he leaves you alone often?” 

You wince. “Were we that loud?”

Guts shrugs and says, “Half the band could hear ya going at each other. The door was also wide open.”

“Fuck.” You plop onto the ground and sit cross-legged. You are not looking forward to the looks you’ll receive from everyone once word spreads of your fight with Griffith. For ex-mercenaries, they sure do love their gossip. “It’s just not fair when he gets mad at me for doing the same things he does to me. And then he has the nerve to accuse me of cheating?” You lie down, hoping the wood against your back will ground you. 

Ember shimmies out of the bag and curls up on our chest. The added weight is comforting and warm. He purrs loudly, and you laugh through your tears. Guts sits down beside you, still maintaining some distance. This irritates you, so you decide to bridge the gap by shuffling closer to him. 

He tenses up, but you don’t care. You like the warmth radiating from his body. “You can always come to me if you need someone to listen to your troubles,” he says, glancing down at you. “Or for some cat cuddles.” He pets Ember on the head. “They’re great at healin’ all types of emotional wounds.”. 

You crack a wry smile. “Thank you.” You can faintly hear Griffith calling your name. He must be looking everywhere for you. “I gotta go. His Highness is calling me.” You sit up and move Ember onto Guts’s lap. The cat gives you an annoyed look and flicks his tail. You apologize as you stand up, promising to bring treats next time. 

Guts tugs on your pants leg. “Just take care of yourself, yeah?”

You nod but don’t give a verbal answer. Waving goodbye, you head in the direction you last heard Griffith. 

You never take Guts up on his offer. Griffith makes another promise and returns to you every night. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“I’m leaving,” Guts says. He’s carrying Ember in his little basket, but your full attention is on the determined look on his face.

“Are you going to train? Can I join you?” you ask.

Guts shakes his head. “No. I’m leaving the band.”

You pause and stare. “You’re—you’re joking, right?” When he doesn’t say anything more, you realize he’s serious.

“I don’t belong here anymore,” he says. The expression on his face is all too familiar to you. The face of someone who knows they cannot stay. But you just can’t understand why he would want to leave everything behind.

“But what about Griffith? Casca? The men in your unit?”

Guts smiles and shrugs. “They’ll be fine without me.”

You stare at the ground and fidget with your fingers. “What about me?” you ask in a quiet voice. When you dare to look up, he looks conflicted, And for a second, you actually think he’ll stay.

“...Come with me then,” he suggests.

You blink owlishly at him. “Sorry?”

“Come with me. We can travel together and look for our own dreams.” He looks so earnest that it hurts to turn down his offer.

“Guts, you know I can’t leave.”  You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. The thought of leaving Griffith is too much to bear.

Guts furrows his brows. “We both know that’s bullshit. It’s only a matter of if you want to.”

“I….” You’re at a loss for words. Yes, it would be so much easier to just leave everything behind and start again. Travel with someone who actually enjoys your company. Explore the world to find yourself. But you just can’t. Silver hair and blue eyes will continue to haunt you no matter where you go. You don’t want to prove Griffith right by running away from your problems.

Guts places a hand on your shoulder, and you stiffen. No one but Griffith ever gets this close to you. “Love, I’ve seen the way he treats you. He’s cold one minute, then showers you with affection. And the two of you pretend as if nothing happened. It ain’t healthy,” he says.

You frown. Griffith can be a bit moody, but that’s because he’s been under a lot of stress lately. “No, Griffith loves me.” 

“And so do I.” Guts scans your face. You’re not sure what he’s looking for. “Why can’t you see that?” he rasps.

You smile and pat his hand. “You’re a good friend, Guts.” You’re glad that he cares so much for you. You hope that he achieves his goal—you really do.

Guts chortles, “Right. Friend. Listen, if you won’t leave with me, at least save yourself the heartache and end things with Griffith.”

Your smile slips. “I love him too much,” you say, gnawing the inside of your cheek.

“He ain’t the man you think he is, and you’ll feel like a fool when you realize it,” he warns.

You shrug your shoulders. “I know I’m a fool, but I can’t stop loving him.” If only it was easy to stop loving someone. People would be changing lovers like they change clothes. Despite knowing Griffith is flirting with Princess Charlotte, you can’t bring yourself to hate him. You definitely don’t blame Charlotte. So yes, you’re well aware of how naive you are to think Griffith is still yours alone.

Guts hands you the basket. “Take care of Ember. I would take him with me, but I’d worry too damn much since I’m gonna travel lots.” You take the basket and peer at the orange tabby, who’s adjusted very well to domestic life.

“He’s going to miss you,” you say, holding back tears.

Guts pats your head, and a bitter smile twists his lips. “He ain’t even gonna notice I’m gone.”

“He will. He’ll definitely notice and miss you a lot.” There’s a pregnant pause. You both know you’re not talking about the cat. 

Guts rubs the back of his neck. “I ain’t good with goodbyes, so I’ll see you again,” he says.

“Soon?” you croak, tightening your grip on the basket.

“Whenever our paths decide to cross.” He ruffles your hair and laughs when you gripe about it. You resist the urge to hug him, remembering how he flinched the last time you touched him. So instead, you wave and stand in the doorway until he disappears from sight.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now, little guy,” you whisper to Ember, who rolls onto his back and stares up at you with his green eyes. You shut the door and set the basket by the fireplace, heading to the ice chest to prepare supper.

The day that Guts leaves is the first time Griffith breaks a promise to you. You wait all night for him, but he never shows up. You fall asleep in front of the fireplace, curled up in an armchair. You don’t find out why until the morning when some band members storm your room and demand you get ready before promptly leaving.

“What have you done…” you sigh and trail after the rest of the band. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

He got captured. The stupid idiot got himself captured for treason. It’s been almost a year, and you’re still struggling to wrap your mind around it. You didn’t realize how important Guts is to Griffith. But then, doesn’t that mean you aren’t as important to him as you thought? Because at his lowest, Griffith decided to seek comfort from someone else and not you. When you came to this conclusion, you decided you wouldn’t live for someone else again. Yes, you still love him. But you can’t forgive his actions. His decision put the rest of the band in danger and destroyed everything he built toward his dream.

What’s left of the band is planning a rescue mission. With Guts back, you know that the operation is guaranteed to be successful. You were going to greet him but hung back when you saw him with Casca. It seems you have a track record of having an interest in men who have their eyes on someone else. You pretend to not notice when they disappear together. Instead, you sit on a log and cuddle with Ember, who miraculously found you after your exile. Food isn’t as plentiful as it was in the capital, but he doesn’t complain. You’re thankful you don’t have to spend your nights alone again.

When Casca briefs everyone on the plan, you feel hurt that you’re not part of the group that infiltrates the tower. She sees right through you and shakes her head before you can utter a word. You bite your lip and nod, unwilling to make a scene in front of everyone. This small interaction catches Guts’s attention, and your eyes meet for the first time since he’s arrived. You quickly look away, missing the hurt that flashes across his face.

Everyone gets into their position, and all you can do is wait.

You don’t wait long. From the racket you’re hearing, things did not go smoothly as planned. Once the signal is given, the rest of the group charges into the fray. You see the bodies dangling from weapons, and rage burns inside you. It’s been a while since you’ve spilled some blood.

By the end of it, you’ve won. Guts managed to defeat whatever that monstrosity was. And for the first time in a year, you see Griffith—what’s left of him anyway. You wait until Judeau and Casca are done before slipping into the tent. You’re having trouble reconciling the Griffith you know and the empty husk in front of you. You stand in silence as you examine how a year of torture has treated Griffith. He has a helmet on, but you imagine that his face matches the rest of his body. The scars and missing skin make you sick to your stomach. What you worry about the most is when you overheard how Griffith will never be able to walk or wield a sword again. Flesh can be healed, but tendons cannot.

A gurgled noise snaps you out of your thoughts. No. You clench your fists. They didn’t take his tongue, too, right? You see those familiar blue eyes again, but they look dull now.

“Hi,” you rasp, waving awkwardly.

“I told ya I could handle this—oh. It’s you,” Guts cuts himself off. He glances between you and Griffith. “I was just helpin’ Griffith put on his armour.”

You pause and wait. When Griffith says nothing, your feared assumption is confirmed. “What did they do to you….” You move closer and crouch in front of him. He slumps forward, and his body leans against you. You inwardly curse at how light he is. You stiffly bring your arms up and wrap them around his torso. Guts motions his head to the wagon entrance, and you shake your head. Gently, you squeeze Griffith. The bandages feel smooth in contrast to his rough skin. You hear a quiet sob that breaks your heart. “Let’s get you suited up,” you say, blinking back the tears. You receive a slight nod, and it brings a smile to your face. So you assist Guts in dressing Griffith in his armour. A commotion outside draws your attention, and Guts tells you to stay with Griffith while he checks it out. You had no idea that it would be the trigger for a series of unfortunate events.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

You stare up at the eclipse. The entire field is washed in crimson, both with the blood-red light and your fallen comrades. How did it come to this? Do his friends mean so little to him? Do you mean so little to him? 

Shutting your eyes won’t help. The constant screams and cries of your friends pierce your eardrums. The roars of the monsters as they tear into flesh and bone rattle your heart in your ribcage. And, oh god, the smell. The air is foul, and you can almost taste the iron on your tongue. You feel the bile rise up your throat, and you dry heave. The sour and bitter taste is more welcome than metal. 

It’s not until half of your comrades are slaughtered that you realize nothing is attacking you. You’re kneeling in a pool of blood and carnage, and not a single drop of it is yours. Why? Why must you watch everyone get slaughtered while you’re the sole exception? The guilt claws at your skin. You ignore the feeling and glare up at the pillar of flesh. 

Griffith is simply watching the chaos before him. His eyes are cold, and dread runs through your veins. You want to believe that a part of him feels remorse, that a part of him is regretful over sacrificing his loved ones. But you know him better than that. He doesn’t care so long as he gets what he wants. And he will never want anything more than to achieve his dream. The end justifies the means. Isn’t that how the saying goes? 

Your eyes meet. You’re too far away to see, but you can picture the smirk on his lips, the way the right corner of his mouth lifts up ever so slightly whenever things go his way. There’s an indescribable anger that simmers beneath your skin, threatening to burst through your veins to make its presence known. 

And you remember that it’s because you all mean so much to him that he’s chosen to sacrifice everyone. He loves you and still chose his dream over everything you built together. But why won’t he let any of the creatures harm a single hair on your head? You are a sacrifice, and he is choosing to spare you. For what reason? For what purpose? Surely he’s not narcissistic enough to believe you’ll still welcome him with open arms after slaughtering everyone? Or maybe he’s leaving you until the end. To finish you off himself. Either way, you are not leaving this world without taking that bastard down. 

You don’t want—no. You refuse to look around the field. Because you don’t know what you’ll do if you recognize one of the mutilated corpses or mounds of flesh. You might lose it if you focus too much and spot what remains of one of your close friends. So where else to look but up? Up at the one who started it all. 

A gasp tumbles from your lips when you notice a figure crawling up the pillar. You had forgotten that Guts was swept away with Griffith. Even now, he’s trying to save him. Bitter tears burn your eyes. You no longer believe Griffith is worth saving. What a colossal waste of your time. 

You can do nothing but sit there as the river of blood turns into a lake. Every time Guts gets close to Griffith, he’s swatted away like a fly. Eventually, he plummets to the ground. To your horror, Griffith is engulfed in a white ball of light. The monsters bellow at the sight, waving around detached limbs and corpses. Entrails and viscera fly through the air, and the squelchy splatters send a wave of nausea through you. 

Everyone’s dead. Oh, God. Everyone’s dead. And now you’re all alone. You look back up to see Griffith emerge from the light. At least you think it’s Griffith. The only recognizable characteristic is the beak-like helmet that resembles the armour he wore. He is covered from head to toe in black. The blue eyes you love getting lost in now resemble an iceberg; cold and deadly on impact. 

The abominations that ignored you earlier now turn towards you. All your limbs are snatched and restrained. You scream and flail against their iron grip. Griffith descends from the large hand and waits as you’re dragged in front of him. 

“Hello, darling.” Griffith’s greeting is anything but pleasant. He still looks at you with affection, but you’re no longer sure if that’s a good thing. You know there are some fates far worse than death. His hands are clawed at the tips, and the sharp points trail down the soft flesh of your cheek. You stiffen, afraid that he’ll slice you open if you move. “Terribly sorry you had to witness such atrocities.” His finger trails down your neck and along the slope of your collarbone. “Well, I suppose they were only minor inconveniences.” He shrugs and studies your expression. 

“Those ‘inconveniences’ were your friends,” you spit out. He grins and grabs your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. 

“Friends?” Griffith chuckles. “Care to join them?” he asks, but you both know the answer. You feel his nails dig into your skin, fresh wounds stinging as sweat drips into them. “I didn’t think so,” he sneers when you remain silent. 

“I believed in you. I listened to your promises. And for what?” Your voice cracks near the end as the tears trickle down your face. Griffith tuts and brushes your cheek, licking the tears off his finger. The grin on his face is manic. And for the first time in your life, you’re afraid of him. 

“I hardly ever break my promises, especially to you, dear.” He strokes your hair, and how his talons scrape against your scalp raises goosebumps on your skin. He grins when you involuntarily shudder. “You are my scythe and mine to wield alone.” His eyes dart to the side. When you turn to follow his gaze, you see Guts fighting back a horde of monsters. You aren’t alone after all, but for how much longer? You can’t decipher whether you feel relief or terror.

The monsters release their hold on you, but some invisible force is still gripping you in place. You look at Griffith, and he’s staring at his hand with a curious expression. It’s the expression of a child that’s discovered a new toy. You attempt to wiggle your fingers, but your body refuses to listen. You grunt and can only move your head. A yelp escapes your lips when you’re turned around mid-air, and Griffith presses up against you from behind. 

You watch in horror as Guts falters from your shriek and a monster clamps its jaws around his arm. He tries to behead the monster, only for his sword to snap in half. You meet his panic-stricken eyes with your own. His face twists with rage, and you hear Griffith click his tongue by your ear. 

“Let’s give him a show, darling,” Griffith purrs. His tone is possessive as his hands caress your stomach. His gentle touch ends when he tears your clothes off. You scream and manage to move your limbs, kicking his leg in the process. Griffith grunts and a small smile flashes across Guts’s face before it’s replaced with worry again. “Acting disobedient, dear?” Griffith sighs with disappointment, and you freeze at his words. “I was going to be gentle, but a harsh punishment might teach you better.” The invisible force now feels twice as heavy, and you no longer have mobility over your limbs.  

The breeze is freezing against your bare skin, and disgust rolls off you in waves. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what Griffith plans to do with you. But maybe this is what you deserve for denying him all those nights. You whimper when his fingers brush against your nipples. His erection presses into your back. Griffith lets out a low growl and draws blood with his sharp talons. This is not how you wanted your first time to be. Instead of candlelight and wine, you are basking in the light of the eclipse. The only red liquid around is blood. You begin to sob as utter helplessness consumes you. Griffith shushes your cries and nuzzles into your neck. You feel the vibrations when he chuckles. 

Guts is still visible in your field of vision, and he looks furious now. You gasp when he takes his sword and severs his arm to escape the monster’s jaws. He begins running towards you and takes down two monsters along the way. But one of them slams into him, and they form a dogpile to hinder his movements. Guts struggles, but it’s no use. He’s completely restrained and can only watch Griffith’s twisted performance. You give him a grateful smile and close your eyes, resigning yourself to your fate. 

“Did you ever notice how he would look at you?” Griffith questions, his talons digging into your hips when you don’t answer. He loosens his grip when you groan and shake your head. “He was one of my closest companions. You two are the only people I would ever consider giving up my dream for.” His hands travel down to your thighs. “But that doesn’t matter now.” He forces your legs to part, and you stifle the sob that gurgles in the back of your throat. “I hated the way he looked at you. He knew you were mine and still chose to keep his lecherous gaze on you.” 

You open your eyes and let out a confused stutter. Making eye contact with Guts, you see a depth of emotions that you never noticed before. It makes the anguish on his face unbearable to look at. 

“What are you doing?” you whisper. A numbness spreads throughout your chest like there’s a black hole sucking up all your emotions. 

“Making sure the entire world knows who you belong to,” Griffith growls. Suddenly there’s a searing pain on your right inner thigh. The burning sensation rips a scream from you, and you nearly faint. You can only compare this to how livestock are branded with hot iron. Warm blood trickles down your leg, and you bark a bitter laugh, mind muddled from the pain. 

“So now you want me,” you say, glaring at the ground. 

“Don’t be like that, darling. I’ve always wanted you. The others were only a means to an end. You know that.” Griffith says and kisses your shoulder. It feels like a million insects are crawling underneath your skin, and you bite your lip to subdue the urge to retch. 

“Is that what Charlotte was? A means to an end?” You can’t help but let your bitterness seep into your tone.

“Now, now. Let’s not be rude and forget our audience tonight.” You glance over at Guts, and he’s no longer struggling. He’s panting heavily with his eyes trained on your form. Frustration and fury mar his features. It’s a pity you never noticed his feelings earlier. Maybe you would have left with him when he asked, and you wouldn’t be in this mess now. “If I recall correctly, a punishment is due for your disobedience.” Griffith walks around you until you’re face to face. You don’t register the slashes until your abdomen stings and weeps with your blood. He hums and licks his talons. What is with this man and licking your bodily fluids??

“Fuck you,” you bite out, gritting your teeth to temper the pain.

“All in due time, my dear,” Griffith says with a salacious grin. You start to feel light-headed.

“You promised,” you say, blinking to clear the spots in your vision.

Griffith tsks, “Some promises need to be broken for others to be kept.” He says it like that’s just the way things are. No consideration of your feelings whatsoever. You’ve been labelled as collateral damage. 

You build on your last point. “You promised you would never force me into anything without my consent.” Griffith has never broken a promise to you before. You desperately cling to that belief. Except he has. And if he’s lied to you before, what makes you so sure he won’t do it again?

“Think on the bright side. We’ll become connected as one,” Griffith purrs, eyes roaming your body. You feel like a piece of meat strung up at the butcher. 

“You’re a filthy liar,” you snarl.

Griffith’s voice drops an octave. “Darling, I won’t tolerate baseless accusations.” It’s not a warning, but a demand for obedience.

You snort. That’s rich coming from him. “You’re a goddamn liar, and I fucking hope you rot.”

“You don’t mean that.” His blue eyes become glacial. “Tell me you’re joking.” His hands wrap around your throat. “Say it!” With just the right amount of pressure, Griffith can strangle you or crush your trachea. His grip tightens, but only enough to shorten your supply of oxygen.

“....” You concentrate on Guts and refuse to respond.

Your silence further agitates him. And then it finally happens. His focus slips for a moment due to his anger, but it’s enough for you to grab the dagger strapped to your thigh and drive it into his shoulder. Griffith lets out an inhuman screech, and you drop to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Air rushes into your lungs, and you hack out a cough. 

“Just wait, darling. I’ll have you, even if it can’t be officially.”

The last thing you hear before you black out is the rattling of bones and the thundering of hooves.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

You wake up in a cave. There’s a faint light coming from the ceiling and the sound of water falling in the distance. Through the haze in your mind, you recognize that you’re in an unfamiliar place. You bolt upright, looking around to gather your bearings. There’s rustling behind you, and you whip your head in the direction of the noise. Startled, you scream when a girl pops up by your side. 

She’s unphased by your reaction and smiles widely. “I’m Erica!” Her voice is bright and cheery. She hands you a mug, and you glance at the liquid with suspicion. The earnest expression on her face persuades you to take a sip. You sigh with relief when it’s water. Feeling parched, you gulp the rest down. “Are you Guts’s lover?” You choke on your last sip of water. Your throat burns from the coughing fit. “Cause I think you’re really pretty, and he keeps mumbling your name in his sleep,” she whispers conspiratorily to you. You turn to see where she’s glancing at and notice that Guts is lying not far from you. 

He looks rough. You inhale sharply when you notice the bandaged stump at his side—fuck there’s one around his eye too. You hope he didn’t lose an eye. “Is he… ok?” you ask, voice scratchy from not talking for a while.

“Godot says he’ll be fine, and I believe him! Guts is super tough!!” she flexes her arms to exaggerate, and you can’t help but giggle. This kid is adorable. “But he did lose an arm and an eye. We’re not sure when he’ll wake up.” The graveness in her tone throws you off. “You must feel bad that he got hurt, but it’s not your fault.” Suddenly, her gaze makes you uncomfortable.

“I….” You stare at the small being in front of you. Since when were children so observant?

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” You turn your head to the cave entrance and try to decipher the figure jogging towards you.

“...Rickert?” You rub your eyes, convinced that you’re hallucinating. But Rickert pulls you into a hug, and you crumble in his embrace. All the feelings you couldn’t express during the eclipse come bursting forth. You cry for an embarrassingly long time, blubbering incoherently about what happened that night. He holds you and tells you about what happened to him and how the three of you are all the only survivors left of the band. He goes on to explain where you are and how long you’ve been unconscious. You’ve been unconscious for four days, recovering in an ore mine.

“Is there somewhere I can clean myself?” you ask. You can still feel the stickiness of blood on your skin, and surely you stink.

“Yeah, there’s a waterfall deeper in the cave. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.” He hugs you once more. “It’s good to see you again.” His smile is infectious, and you nod. While Rickert leaves fetch clothes, you head to the waterfall. Erica seems to have wandered off, so you have some privacy. You peel off your clothes and stand underneath the falling water. The pressure isn’t as hard as you expected. It’s almost pleasant. You scrub your skin until it’s raw and pink, but it doesn’t remove the stickiness or the smell of iron that lingers. You let out a frustrated groan and scrub too hard, breaking open the skin on your arm. The water stings as it laps at your new wound. But you just stand there, holding your arm out until you become numb to the stinging.

A hand grasps your shoulder, and you’re teleported back there again with him. You yelp and jump away, back pressed against the rocks. Your eyes dart for an escape route, and panic seizes you when a pair of hands grab your shoulders again. You thrash and cry out, freezing when you realize it’s Guts. You can only see the left side of his face, but his mouth is slanted in a smile. You bite your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were….” You trail off, unable to complete your sentence. You hug your arms around yourself and avoid his gaze. 

“S’alright. C’mere.” His right arm is open, and he’s waiting patiently for you to make the next move. You stumble into him and bury your face into his chest, apologizing weakly for getting his bandages wet. He kisses your forehead and holds you tight. “I get it, y’know? The whole bein’ touched thing. I, uh, had some things happen when I was a kid that made me hate bein’ touched 'cause it would always remind me of those memories.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.” You squeeze him tight, but it’s surprisingly difficult with how muscular his torso is. 

Guts chuckles, but it’s bitter and hollow. “Yeah. There was a man who would… do bad things to me. And I couldn’t do jack shit ‘cause I was just a kid.” 

“But you’re still here. Learning this about you… I think you’re the strongest person I know.” And you mean every word. Guts stares at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. He cups your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“Wasn’t very strong a couple nights ago,” he mutters. You can see that he feels guilty. You also carry the same weight on your shoulders. After all, why did you get to survive while everyone else died? But you can’t allow yourself to be trapped by these thoughts. You need to figure out what to do now.

You pat his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum against your palm. “I don’t think we should blame ourselves for that,” you say. “We had no idea any of that would happen.”

Guts shakes his head, pain etched into his features. “But I did. I knew somethin’ was going to happen. I heard a goddamn prophecy foretellin’ it. I didn’t think it would be a fuckin’ slaughter.” He rubs a hand over his face and sighs. You do your best to support his weight when he leans against you. 

The moment is interrupted by Rickert, who clears his throat, holding your change of clothes. You thank him and walk away to change, leaving the two to continue their conversation. Unfortunately, the change of clothes consists of a single shirt. The shirt is enormous and swallows your frame, reaching down to your thighs. It’ll have to do for now, but you need to ask where the closest shop is. As you’re walking back, Guts dashes past you. You look at Rickert, but he only shakes his head.

A faint meow echoes through the cave. “Did you hear that?” you ask. You swear you catch a glimpse of orange by the cave entrance. Ignoring Rickert’s pleas, you exit the cave and follow the little paw prints on the ground. You walk through bushes and other foliage until you’re at the foot of a hill. Glancing up, you see a pair of cat ears twitching for a split second. Despite the dull pain in your abdomen, you trek up the hill. “Ember? Is that you?” You left him behind with Rickert and the others. From what Rickert’s told you, you’re not sure if the little guy survived the ordeal. 

Another meow causes you to pivot around. There on a tree branch is Ember. You find comfort in seeing a familiar face. You coo at the cat to come down. And when he does, he weaves between your legs, rubbing his head against your calves. Something feels odd. Ember isn’t as vibrant as you remember. His body is almost translucent. A searing pain interrupts your thoughts. You see blood trickling down your leg from where Griffith marked you.

Ember hisses. You snap your head up, taken aback by the ring of figures surrounding you. The cat circles you protectively, hissing at the weird creatures. They make no move to get closer to you, so Ember eventually settles by your feet, guarding you. You remain still, unsure of what to do in this situation. The thundering of hooves draws nearer, and you hear Guts call out your name. He's riding on a horse with a skeleton? He dismounts and runs to you, frantically checking you for any injuries. He mumbles incoherently when he finds nothing. 

You manage to hear him say, “I can’t lose you too.” You cup his face in your hands, smiling at this wonderful man. His posture relaxes, and he leans his forehead against yours. “I was afraid,” he confesses. “I was afraid I wouldn’t reach you in time and find you dead.”

“I’m ok. You’re ok. We’re both ok,” you state calmly. He nods, taking in a deep breath.

“How intriguing.” You don’t recognize the voice. The skeleton appears beside you, his eye sockets observing you with a scrutinizing gaze. “Yes, what makes you so special?” He leans closer, tsking with disappointment when you shrink away.

“I’m not some circus animal,” you huff.

The skeleton tilts his head. “No, but you are certainly more interesting than one. What about you keeps these spirits at bay?”

“Spirits? Is that what these things are?” you ask, eyeing them warily.

“Yes, and your little feline too. Although it’s quite rare for pets to linger. I’ve seen it with a dog before but never with a cat. However, a cat is not strong enough to protect you from spirits.” He scans your figure and focuses on your bloody leg. You are pulled away from Guts. Your shirt is hiked up to expose your thighs despite your shouts of protest. “Aha! The source of your protection.” The Skull Knight examines the symbol on your inner thigh with interest.

“That’s different from mine,” Guts points out. He traces the mark on his neck. 

“Maybe everyone receives a different marking?” you suggest, failing to convince even yourself.

The Skull Knight scoffs. “The brand of sacrifice is not like a coat pattern. There is only one,” he remarks. You move to get away, but he has a firm grip on your leg. “This… this is something else.” 

“If it’s not a brand of sacrifice, what is it?” you ask, wondering what would happen if you kicked this skeleton right in his rib cage.

The Skull Knight clicks his teeth. “If memory serves me correctly, this loosely translates to ‘side love.’” He finally releases your leg.

You laugh in disbelief. “Huh.” You tug the shirt to cover the mark, clenching the fabric in your hand. How ironic. When you decide to cut your losses, Griffith clings harder to you. He’s like a damn cockroach. You just can’t get rid of him. Your skin flushes hotly. How dare he mark you as ‘his’ when you finally decide to leave him. He has no right to claim you after betraying your love and murdering all your friends. The translation suggests that you won’t be the only one, and your thoughts wander to Charlotte. Of course, he always put her first.

The Skull Knight nods, tapping his jawbone thoughtfully. “Yes, I can faintly sense traces of dark magic lingering in your mark.”

“Well, how do I get rid of it?” you ask. The sooner you get rid of it, the better. You don’t want a constant reminder of Griffith permanently branded onto your skin.

“Perish, I suppose,” the Skull Knight answers. When you glare at him, he adds, “There is currently no known method to remove it.” You sigh. That’s just lovely. There’s a sour expression on Guts’s face, and you know you aren’t fairing any better. You’re potentially stuck with a reminder of your psychotic past lover for the rest of your life. 

The sun rises, and the ring of spirits disappears. Ember remains, looking up at you with his big, green eyes. You scoop him up out of instinct and cradle him to your chest. You’re pleasantly surprised when you discover he’s tangible. It’s the same as if he was alive. The Skull Knight crouches in front of the cat, who pays no attention to him. “Extraordinary! It’s as if there’s some otherly force helping you retain a corporeal form during the day,” he says, but Ember’s disinterest is unshakeable. Dejected, he turns to Guts and starts a discussion. You don’t pay attention much, hearing a recurrence of ‘apostles,’ ‘demons,’ and ‘evil.’ From the determined look on Guts’s face, you have a hunch about what he plans to do. 

The Skull Knight leaves, and Rickert and Erica appear shortly after. The two confess their worries over your lengthy absence. They went to look for you when you didn’t come back, fearing you would hurt yourself or get lost in the dark. The four of you head back to the cave with you and Guts trailing behind. Despite being a spirit, you can feel Ember’s weight as he drapes around your shoulders. You missed hearing his purrs.

Guts is lost in thought. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake over his body. Almost all his bandages are gone. You’re sure every wound has reopened. You reach out and hold his hand. “Whatever you plan on doing, count me in,” you say. He looks down at your intertwined hands and squeezes them gently. It’s too early. You both lost a lot recently. The pain is still too raw for you to confess your feelings. But for now, you don’t need to say anything. In the following days, when he kisses your forehead, pulls you closer to him at night, or brings you hot chocolate to keep you warm, you just know he loves you too. So yes, the world outside the mine is a frightening place to exist right now. But you have time to heal, to spend time with this man you absolutely adore, and cuddle with your spirit kitty.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

I did rush the ending a bit because I just wanted the damn fic to end lol, so sorry if it feels a bit awkward. I have not watched Berserk in a while and I didn't read any of the manga so my knowledge of what happens is a little foggy. I basically just read the wiki a lot lmao.

I wanted to try and set up this dynamic with Griffith where it feels like he loves you on the surface level, but there's this creeping feeling that something is wrong. I don't think I figured out how to execute that well in this oneshot, but hopefully I do if I ever decide to rewrite this.

I did struggle a bit trying to balance the fluff between Griffith and Guts. The one thing I especially struggled with was what to do with Casca. It's implied here that she dies in the eclipse because I honestly had no plans for her. I was not able to come up with any ideas for how to use her if she survives, but I still wanted her to develop a relationship with Guts for character development purposes. So please ignore that obvious plot hole.

I'm starting to ramble so I'm gonna cut myself off here.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

[queenendless]

WELCOME HOME

A/n: Short fic. Cause I miss my bird baby. AU TIME based off World Heroes Mission. Hawks/Keigo Takami x Adult!Fem!Reader.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. If you enjoy my fan content, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

Keigo Takami.

The #2 Hero.

The Winged man that goes too fast in his line of work and in life.

Yet every time he stops by your place; your shared place, he goes at a somewhat normal pace. The norm of being with you made him want to relish in every moment spent together.

Letting the balcony doors open to let out the steam of cooking was one thing. Being his personal doorway in was the better fun option.

The place was always cozy and warm when it's you two.

But dating a pro means lots of patrols, late nights handling cases, and dangerous missions facing criminals and villains from all walks of life.

Like right now.

The worldwide operation of defeating the terrorist cult organization Humarise from activating their Trigger bombs designed to release gas that drives all Quirk users who inhale the gas to go berserk as their chemically enhanced powers toxically overwhelm them.

The World Heroes Association mobilized heroes around the world to seize those bombs along with every member and ally of the group.

Thankfully, the bombs were defused.

The world was averted from disaster.

Despite the official reports the news covered on the event, in your heart, you knew there was more to it.

So you felt your heart soar over the moon when the sight of red and yellow was caught from the corner of your eye by the balcony.

“Hey baby bird.”

Standing right there outside, he bowed to you, a gloved hand offered to you.

“Miss me?”

Your feet moved on their own. Water clouded your eyes. He caught your running self jumping into his arms with ease, swinging you side by side, gently squeezing you in kind.

“I did.” You mumbled in his neck, kissing his skin showing there, feeling his warm beating pulse against your lips.

“I missed you too. So damn much.” His stubbled chin brushed your cheek before planting several smooches there.

The anxious tension filling his heart ever since this Humarise operation began would not rest until he saw you again with his own eyes. And it did.

“Congrats on the success of your mission.” Your proud smile beamed up at him, earning a blush tinting his ears, his neck, and his cheeks.

His bashful grin rewarded you. “Thanks. It was a worldwide team effort, though.”

“I love you Kei.” Your tight squeeze of a hug made your birdman wheeze out at the surprising strength it held.

His wings surrounded you as he squeezed you right back. “I love you too, Y/n.”

You two would spend the remainder of the night cuddling, a comfy blanket shared by you both, as you let the TV run in the background, until you both finally conked out.

Tonight he got to spend with you safe and sound in his arms at last.

[anothermansjeans]

I NEEDDDD more of YouTuber y/n X Spencer 😭 pllzzzzz maybe the first time he actually is on a video? Not just by accident but doing something like a challenge or something 😭?

HEHEHEHE I AM FERAL FOR THEM YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! i also love this concept... everyone pls feel free to send me more 🫶

cw: major fluff, competitive reader, competitive spencer, reader (sometimes) wears makeup

wc: 1.4k

++

You were extremely giddy. Ever since Spencer’s face was accidentally shown in one of your unedited videos, he’s been slowly coming around to the idea of being more involved with your channel. Of course, he had to be careful at times because of his job, so it started out small. You saw a trend on TikTok and practically begged Spencer to participate.

It was simple really. You would take a video of your makeup routine and then have Spencer do the voiceover without telling him the exact name of the method or technique you were doing. He was adorable with it, truly, and because of this, the internet went absolutely berserk. Comments ranged from awe to thirsting over his voice, and you didn't blame them. It was this uproar of engagement that sparked the idea of actually having him in a real video for your channel.

Spencer was apprehensive at first– he was still a bit camera shy, but after your reassurance that the people will love him, he agreed, wanting to help and support you in any way possible. When he asked about the video you had in mind and the words “trivia game” were thrown around, his eyes lit up and even offered for Penelope to go over to your apartment to be the one reading the questions so that it could be a fun game between the two of you.

When the camera was set up, ring lights on, and Penelope curled up on the big comfy chair behind the scenes, it was show time.

“Hello, lovelies!” Your intro went as usual, and as you spoke, you could see Spencer in your peripheral, staring at you with a gentle smile on his face. After about a minute of talking, you took a breath and turned your head to his. “You're probably wondering who this hunk of brains is next to me… this is Spencer, my boyfriend!”

Spencer finally took a glance at the camera and gave a thin smile with a shy wave. “Hi.”

A giggle erupted from you and Penelope, which resulted in your eyebrows jumping up. “And behind the camera is the magical woman I am stealing to be my best friend–” your words were slightly interrupted by a soft “hey” coming from Spencer, “Penelope!” You gave another smile to the camera before going on to explain what you were doing in the video. “Today we are putting our brains to battle in some fun trivia! Penelope will be reading us pop culture trivia and whoever answers first correctly gets a point. The prize is… bragging rights?” Your eyebrows pulled together. You forgot to think of that part, but a smile erupted once Penelope spoke from behind the camera.

“Oh! What if Spencer has to be in three in your TikTok videos if you win, and if he wins, he gets to tweet from your twitter!”

“Penny, you're a genius!”

Penelope was bashful as Spencer held a confused expression. “Tweet?”

“Oh boy wonder,” Penelope started, “I’ll show you the ins and outs if you get that far.”

Once again, Spencer let out a soft “hey” in response.

Noticing his semi-hurt expression, a pout formed on your lips and you gently placed your hand on his thigh, immediately feeling him relax under your touch and shift his body more towards yours. “It’s okay, baby. I believe in you.”

It was like he couldn't help himself. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, causing stars to appear in your eyes and a small “eek!” to come from Penelope's mouth. The sound startled Spencer, making a blush appear on the apples of his cheeks. He cleared his throat and muttered, “shall we start?”

Shaking yourself from the starry place he sends you, you turned back to the camera. “Right! Well, Pen, we’re ready whenever you are.”

“Okay, first question. ‘Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?’ is a classic movie line from what 1985 John Hughes film?”

A millisecond barely went by before words were spewing out of Spencer’s mouth, “The Breakfast Club!”

You knew he was right, so you weren't too disappointed when Penelope called out as correct. “Okay, next one,” she said, marking a tally under Spencer’s name on a small whiteboard on her lap. “What five members make up the band *NSYNC?”

You were practically shouting out the answer before she finished the question, “Justin Timberlake, Lance Bass, JC Chasez, Joey Fatone, and Chris Kirkpatrick!”

“Correct!”

“Yes!” You jumped up from the couch, only aware of your overexcitement after looking down at Spencer and seeing the complete awe plastered on his face. “Sorry…” You sat back down with a shy smile on your face, but Spencer just shook his head, folding his lips in.

“Don't be,” he started, “you're cute when you're excited.”

“Yeah, excited to destroy you,” you said sassily.

A scoff soon followed from Spencer, “oh, it’s on.”

“Shall I continue?” Penelope spoke up, trying not to interrupt their moment. She only asked the next question when both parties on the couch gave a nod. “Which member of One Direction was the first to go solo?”

And the game continued. Honestly, you thought you had this win in the bag, but as it progressed, you became increasingly worried. Who knew your genius boyfriend was pretty well-versed in pop culture trivia? It was the end of the game when the two of you inevitably tied, and Penelope was basically on the edge of her seat as she prepared to give you the last question.

“Okay, tie breaker. This is for the win.”

As much as you love each other, you were both in it to win it. You two were also too focused to realize the mirroring positions you had. Both hunched over with your hands clasped as your arms resting on your knees, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and eyebrows scrunched together (once the video is uploaded the comments have a field day with this… you guess that's what happens when you live with someone for a while).

“The E.L. James novel Fifty Shades of Grey is based on fanfiction from what young-adult book series?”

You knew the answer… deep, very deep in your mind, you knew, but before you could even reach those depths, Spencer was standing up with wide eyes. “Oh! I know this one. It’s Twilight!” When Penelope told him he was right, he let out a loud “ha” as he looked at you and pulled your sitting body into a hug. It was an awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless.

As he was squeezing your shoulders, you moved your head up so that your chin was resting on his stomach. Your eyebrows knit together wondering how the hell he knew that, and once he came down from his high he loosened his grip and sat back down, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “We uh, had a case that involved the topic of vampires to come up… I was intrigued and learned a lot about the series.”

You just smiled and pecked his nose with your lips. “Your brain is insane and I love it.”

He ducked his blushed face down and Penelope cleared her throat, prompting the two of you to remember your surroundings and the camera placed in front of you. “So the winner is Spencer!”

Letting out a sigh, you gave a nod and opened up Twitter before starting a new post and handing your phone to Spencer. “It’s all yours, lover boy. Write what you want– there is a word limit, though.”

He held your phone for a moment, staring at the screen as he pursed his lips. It was only a few seconds later until he started typing away. After about a minute, he pressed the button to send the tweet, and you immediately heard an “awe” come from Penelope as she looked at her phone. Looking down at the app, you took a peek at what he wrote, and your heart was ready to burst.

@ y/ny/l/n: According to a 2013 survey, nine in ten Americans cited that love is the most important reason to get married, compared to 28% of people who said they wed for financial stability… I think I’m with those 9 people. I thought that was a fun fact :)

You knew the replies were already going crazy, but you refused to look at them. You were in for a ride with Spencer Reid.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,7k

Synopsis: Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.

Warnings: language, violence (lol), again, (y/n) is a badass in this one

You can find Part l of that fic here

Your foot tabs against the metal of the chair, eyes swaying back and forth between the clock and door. It’s been way too long. Way too long for your students to be gone, way too long for them to arrive in safety.

It’s not like you didn’t have a bad feeling from the start. When your husband told you about the mission in an abandoned mall with only one grade 1 curse to defeat, you simply couldn’t believe it at first.

“Don’t worry about it, Gojo-sensei! Toge and I have everything under control!”

“Salmon”, Toge added with a friendly grin.

 You hated to let them go on their own. But after all, it’s not a secret how skilled your students are, their abilities might even surpass your own in a few years. Why would you have to be worry?

“Hey, still sitting here, handsome?”

A weak smile forms itself on your lips when none other than your husband sits down next to you and begins to draw small circles on your sensitive back.

“You’re worrying way too much babe, I’m sure both of them are fine. After all, Toge is with Yuji and proved often enough that he’s able to fulfil missions on his own.”

Deep down, you know that your husband is right, that you probably worry about nothing. But still, that bad feeling in your guts…

“Are you sure this was a grade 2 curse? Maybe the elders lied about that as well…”, you grumble, memories of your last encounter flooding your mind.

Would they really be so stupid as to pass you over again? You thought you made your point of view very clear when you threatened a whole room of elders back then…

“Nothing else was reported and the extent of destruction wasn’t bad enough for anything stronger than a grade 2 curse. Hey, look at me.”

Gently, your husband cups your face with both hands, staring at you intensely with his bright blue orbs.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, okay? You trained them so well, just relax a bit”, he purrs against your lips.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage in an instant, the way he looks down at you making your mouth water. How is it even possible for a human being to look this delicious?

“Maybe you’ll be able to distract me”, you mutter, arms wrapping themselves around your husband’s neck.

Oh, the way he presses his warm body against your aching one makes your crotch throb and breath hitch. Despite the fact that you are married for over 5 years by now, he sweeps you off your feet like on day one.

“I wonder what you wear underneath that uniform today…”

“(y/n), you need to-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in pure horror while he desperately tries to shove Panda and Maki out of the room.

“What are you doing here?”, you breathe out in utter surprise, cheeks still hot and pink by the way your husband touched you just seconds ago.

Oh god, this is so uncomfortable. Especially Megumi is like your very own child since Satoru decided to raise him. And the disgusted face Maki makes…

“Get yourself together Fushiguro”, she hisses while clearing her throat.

“Ijichi informed us about the fact that something seems to be off regarding Itadori’s and Inumaki’s mission. He couldn’t reach you himself, so he sent us to let you know you should support them.”

“Well, at least now we know why she didn’t answer her phone…”

“SHUT UP PANDA, THIS IS SERIOUS!”

Your heart nearly stops, all the desire you felt just moments ago dies in an instant. Did you hear that correctly? Something seems to be off? You’ve had a bad feeling about this right from the start, didn’t want both of them to go on their own. And now…

Now their lives might be in serious danger.

“I’m leaving right now”, you reply in an instant, already on your way to the door when your husband grabs your hand.

“Wait, we don’t even know what’s going on. Normally I’m the one who jumps into conclusions.”

“They are my students and it is my responsibility to make sure they’re safe, Satoru. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror tomorrow if I let them down now. Yuji is still in his first year and unexperienced when it comes to fighting. And while Toge is very skilled and thoughtful, even his abilities have their limits. I’ll do whatever I can to protect them if I have the chance.”

With a small smile he lets go of you, looking after your confident walk out. Oh, whatever is responsible for that mess will definitely pay for it.

-at the curtain-

“I came as fast as I could. What is the problem?”, you ask Ijichi the minute you get out of the car.

“Even though I’m not entirely sure, there might be the possibility that another curse appeared within the curtain…”, he slowly begins.

That fearful look on his face paired with the sweat on his forehead…No, this isn’t a speculation. Another curse appeared in there for sure.

“Who was responsible for investigating here before? How careless”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Ijichi swallows hard. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favourite back at Jujutsu High. But when it comes to your students, you change drastically. Your eyes harden, usual so kind face turning stone cold. You shove what looks like an asthma spray into your pocket.

“Whatever, this is not the right time to search for whoever screwed up. My students need me.”

With fast and confident steps, you walk through the curtain with ease.

 Only to be greeted by pure chaos.

Only to be greeted by Toge, who lays in front of you unconscious.

Fuck. Your heart hammers against your chest, hands clenching into fists in an instant. No, this wasn’t a grade 2 curse. This has to be something bigger, something that shouldn’t be here.

“Gojo-sensei!”, Yuji screams on top of his lungs while being chased by a grotesque creature.

You can tell by one look that this is a grade 1 – strong, but not unbeatable especially for both boys. So what caused this chaos? What is going on here?

Without thinking twice, you sprint towards the pink-haired boy, crushing the curse behind him with your bare fist.

“Yuji, are you alright? Did you get hurt? What happened to Toge?”

You scan his body for visible injuries, a wave of relief washing over you when all you are able to detect are a few bruises and scratches.

“There…There…Are…So…Much…M-more…”

He can’t catch his breath, completely exhausted by the fight that has to be on for hours by now.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now. Would you please hurry to Toge and give him this medicine? I will take care of whatever is left here”, you ensure him gently, your hand running up and down his back.

“Gojo-sensei, watch out!”

Just in time, you position yourself in front of Yuji. Just before he gets hit by the merciless attack of another curse, just before a whole wave of monsters rushes towards you.

“Do what I told you. I have your back.”

And again, you dash forward. These fuckers have some nerves, injuring both of your students so badly. Why are they here? How was it even able for them to stay in the shadows with no one noticing their presence?

“You have some nerve”, you hiss towards them.

“Hurting two of my students. I’ll make you regret even existing.”

Slash after slash, fist after fist you tear them to the ground, body almost swallowed by purple blood that soaks through your uniform without mercy. No one is able to hurt your precious students without paying for it. No curse, no elders, no jujutsu sorcerer.

“Are you here to protect those boys? Pathetic, all of you will die right here”, a distorted voice behind you barks.

“I’m here to kill everyone who gets in my way. Especially fuckers like you.”

You sprint forward, sight completely numbed by the thick rage that runs through your veins. The way your fists fly through the air at neck-breaking speed leaves Yuji speechless next to Toge’s unconscious body, eyes not even able to follow your rapid movements. He has never seen you like this, so full of fury with your face distorted by hatred. Of course, it was never a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you are strong, rumours saying you even threatened the elders for your student’s sake. But at this very moment, you look almost possessed, slaughtering curse after curse until nothing except for purple rain is left of them.

“Hey, are you okay?”, you request towards Yuji softly, your hand placed on his shoulder.

There you are again, the (y/n) he knows and admires, the kind woman everyone at Jujutsu High talks so highly about. The only thing revealing what you did earlier being the purple blood still sticking to your whole body. Otherwise, your face looks as flawless as ever, eyes gleaming in kindness while you inspect Toge’s body.

“It seems like he’s worn-out, but otherwise fine. Did he take his throat medicine? His cursed speech demands a lot from him and sometimes, Toge seems to be unable to assess his own situation.”

Yuji just stares at you shamelessly, how you caress Toge’s cheek with as much care as usual. Was that really you who just slaughtered at least 50 curses within the span of a few minutes? Was it really you who spoke to one of the curses earlier with your voice frightening cold?

“Is something wrong, Yuji?”

“It’s just…I’ve never seen you like this, Gojo-sensei. You were so badass”, the boy next to you breathes out.

“Let me tell you something: No one on this earth is able to hurt my students without backlash. Whoever hurts any of you will get hurt by me. Or killed.”

“Gojo-sensei is really lucky to have a wife like you”, Yuji suddenly blurts out.

You can’t help but giggle, carefully lifting Toge’s numb body off the ground and through the disappearing curse.

“Oh, please tell him exactly that when we’re back.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @yoonseokerist @suyaaachin @arehzhera @v3-mewcat @dlwlrmas-world @madebyperfectaddiction

[seriesxwriting]

not sure if you’re doing requests still but i was wondering if you could do Theo Reaken x reader where shes always there for the pack but gets pushed aside like shes nothing by them and Theo notices because hes trying to get in good graces with the pack again and then the reader gets kidnapped and the pack doesnt care so Theo takes matters into his own hands

My requests are always open!! I love to see into other peoples creativity and bring their ideas to life. Thank you for this one <3

I’ll follow you anywhere

Pairing: Theo raeken x female reader

Series: teen wolf

Warnings: fighting, deep wounds, kissing.

Summary: request x

“Stiles!” “Lydia! I’m so glad you’re okay” stiles swallowed while throwing his arms around the ginger girls shoulders. He held her head into his neck as she gasped from relief. “Is everyone back?” Scott asked walking through his living room, nodding at everyone.

“Yeah” malia nodded looking round the room confirming everyone’s appearance. “Uh no- y/n isn’t here” Theo raised an eyebrow pulling a face but keeping his thoughts to himself. “Oh- yeah y/n” malia mumbled to herself tucking her hair behind her ear awkwardly. “Oh we forgot about y/n” Lydia swallowed looked between Theo and then Scott.

“Who heard from her last?” Scott swallowed feeling the tension in the room. “Erm- not since she left” stiles licked his top row of teeth not giving anyone eye contact. “She made it to the location” Theo stepped in looking around at everyone suspiciously. Out of nowhere the door handle started rattling and the groups attention swivelled round to that.

A gentle knock followed and the eyes of the group glued onto Scott as he edged to the door, with precaution. He unlocked it pulling it open. I stood on the doorstep with tears in my eyes. “Y/n?” “Why was the door locked?” I asked gently wiping a tear off my cheek. “No reason- just an accident- come on…” Scott moved out the way opening the door wider.

“what happened?” Malia questioned seeing the dirty state I was in. “Uh you were right- it was crawling with berserkers” I nodded to Scott tucking my hair behind my ear. “I knew it! God- how are we going to get round them- did you see a way?” Malia questioned completely passing the fact I was evidently hurt. “Y/n come and sit down you’re clearly hurt” Theo pointed to the sofa with his head. “No- it’s okay- um I didn’t see a way I’m sorry, I was too busy running away from their clasp- I can always go back and…”

“No” Theo shook his head “it’s too dangerous” he outburst looking to Scott. “Theo you don’t make the decisions here- if y/n is offering to go back then…” Lydia shrugged slightly. “Scott seriously? It was possibly dangerous when you sent her the first time she got hurt- why would you send her alone again” Theo raised his eyebrow pulling a face of disgust at the group. “Theo she’s offering” Scott rolled his eyes.

“Theo stop it” I widened my eyes at him whispering under my breath. “I don’t mind- il let you know how it goes” I waved them off before squeezing past Scott to go out the door. I usally felt like I wasn’t part of the group but recently it’s picked up more. Of course I’m getting the hint but i keep thinking that if I do something helpful they will see I’m capable of being a full member. Theo came running out the door behind me.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at him from across the green front garden. It was starting to get a little late now, the sun was setting. Theo ran up to me and I didn’t even acknowledge what he was saying. He looked so pretty in the golden hour. “Y/n! Did you hear that?” He chuckled putting his hand on my arm. “What sorry no” “I said I’m coming with you” “why” I frowned turning my head.

“Y/n they are horrible to you- they shouldn’t send you back and you definitely shouldn’t go on your own” he said under his breath. “Oh, don’t sit up on your high horse you’re in the same position as me- you arrived a little late and you’re trying to get in their good books- are you mad because I’m a little better than you at doing it?” Shrugged pressing my car key to open my car. Theo pulled a face before running after me.

“Are you really that blind to it?” Theo questioned walking round to his side. “Blind to what?” I swallowed turning the car on. He invited himself in and closed us in. “Y/n they use you- they dont use me, they are open with how they feel about me- they talk about you behind your back- we aren’t in the same position” he told me as I started pulling off ten drive and taking us away from the house.

“Theo I appreciate your concern but they are my friends they don’t talk about me behind my back, if they didn’t want me to join the group they would have let me know by now” I told him smiling and shaking my head. “Oh god I feel even worse knowing you don’t see what’s happening” he whispered under his breath. “Theo will you drop it- I don’t know why you even came” I rolled my eyes frustratedly.

“I came because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you” he answered making my heart skip a beat. “And I won’t drop it because I don’t want them to hurt you when you do finally realise” he added on adding to the silence of the vehicle. “Thanks for looking out for me… but I don’t need your help I’ll win them over myself” “well if we’re in the same situation shouldn’t we stick together?” He whispered rolling his head and staring at me as I drove.

His eyes I could see out the corner of mine, along with his gorgeous smirk. He was making my legs feel like jelly. Which wasn’t wise because I was driving. “Stop looking at me like that” I told him in a small voice. “Why?” He questioned with a smile. “you’ll be responsible for your death when we drive off this cliff” i told him trying to focus on the road now. Theo chuckled to himself and then looked ahead. Nothing more was said and eventually we reached our destination. It was pretty much dark now.

It made it a lot more eerie. I stopped the car down the road and me and Theo got out looking up ahead. “What exactly are we here for” “we need to try and get in” I shrugged looking at our challenge pretending that I was screaming inside from the fear. “Come on then” he whispered walking fearlessly in front of me. “Theo- be careful” I hissed running to him. “I’m alright” he whispered putting an arm around my waist. This is how we continued to walk up the road.

I did feel a lot safer with him next to me. I looked up at his face now in the moonlight. Still gorgeous. “This is so eerie, this place was crawling with them two hours ago” I shrugged looking around like a hawk. “I believe you” he told me looking above us in the trees. My heart stopped and I froze when I heard a low growl behind us. Theo squeezed my wrist before we both slowly turned around.

There were three berserkers in front of our exit and two coming from the sides of us. “Run” theo whispered to me. I saw fear in his eyes when I looked across at him. “Come on then!” I frantically grabbed his wrist and pulled him as I started running. He eventually realised what we were doing and what was going on, and he started running properly getting a full grip on my hand now. “Stop stop stop!” I squealed as two more stepped out in front of us.

As we stopped to turn one of them grabbed my arm. It pulled me squeezing my arm so tightly. “Theo!” I screamed as he held on tightly to my hand. I saw his eyes flash as his wolf anger began to show. His claws came out as he held on to me and let out a howl calling for Scott’s help. “Theo let go” I cried out pulling away from him. He fell just dodging one of their hands coming out to him. The berserker wrapped me in its giant arms as I squirmed, screaming to get out of its harsh embrace.

Theo jumped up and was now fighting them off while this one carried me away. “Theo!” I screamed thrashing about trying to get free. “Y/n!” He desperately called out for me. The last thing I saw was him watching me and he fought off the rest that surrounded him. That was before the berserker knocked me out against a tree.

Theo took an opportunity to duck under one of their arms and get away from the circle they were creating. Him being the piggy in the middle. He looked at what why I could have been taken but I was long gone. Theo felt panic spread across his body. “No- y/n” he whispered to himself before pulling it together and running away from the ones left. Theo jumped straight into my car and raced back to Scott’s house breaking every road sign and camera. He pounded on Scott’s door.

When he finally opened it he was in shorts and no top. He covered his mouth to yawn before letting Theo continue. “Y/n has been taken” he breathed with wide eyes. “What? By the berserkers?” Scott asked jerking his head back. “That’s odd- that haven’t taken anyone before usually just killed” “we can’t let that happen- we have to get y/n back” Theo ranted becoming a bit jittery from the adrenaline.

“Everyone’s gone home and got into bed” Scott shook his head looking at his pjs. “They aren’t going to want to come back out” he admitted looking at Theo who’s face had dropped. “Are you joking?” “No- it’s late” Scott pulled back getting defensive. “She’s part of your group are you joking, please say you are” he threw his head back taking a step down to get away from Scott. “We will get her back just in a few days when we plan out how to get in”. Theo shook his head.

“Count me out of this group, I don’t like how you treat outsiders” Theo looked Scott up and down before backing off. “You’re making a mistake leaving” Scott shouted as Theo walked off but he just scoffed, which Scott only heard using his wolf ears. Theo jumped back in my car and sat for a second with both hands on the steering wheel.

He was just thinking. Thinking about what to do. “Come on Theo, you can do this yourself” he whispered to himself. “You don’t need the pack” “just need to think” he told himself seriously. “I can do this” he nodded before starting the car back up. He then drove as fast as he could back to the place I was taken. He over took cars on dangerous roads, risked his life and other peoples to get to me.

Theo drove right up to the entrance and got out with glowing eyes. It was quiet. It was dark. Theo looked around for something to sink his teeth into. Out the corner of his eye he saw a berserker come out the trees. Theo headed straight toward it with no fear this time only anger. Theo went under his arm and kicked his back so the berserker was on the floor. With one punch to the head Theo cracked the skull of the creature and it stopped moving.

He looked around for something else to kill, but his ear twitched. Clapping started appearing and Kate walked out of the tree like. “Well done- not many people who can kill berserkers” she raised an eyebrow looking him up and down. “Is this what you want?” She held the triskillian in her hand up at theo. “No” Theo shook his head. Kate jerked her head backwards. “Yes it is” she frowned. “No- I’ve left that pack- I don’t care what they want” he snarled.

“Don’t say you’ve come to join the opposite side you rebel” she winked at him but Theo just rolled his eyes. “Kate, I just want y/n back” “y/n?” She pulled a face. “Oh the one with y/c hair- the petite one?” “Yes y/n” Theo nodded once. “We don’t have her anymore” Kate shrugged carelessly. “What do you mean? Who has her?” “Nobody- I thought she’d ran back to the pack she got away” Kate explained. Just then, to the side of the two the leaves started rustling.

“Call off your berserkers Kate, I’m no threat to you” Theo told her dangerously. He was feeling a lot of emotions right now. “Theo that’s not one of them” she shook her head looking intrigued. Theo’s claws retracted out as he stared at the leaves. I stumbled out barely being able to even see straight. I thought I could hear his voice so I walked towards it. I could see a figure in the distance and it must have been him. Or I was hallucinating from the blood loss. “Theo?” I called out quieter than I thought I’d said it.

“Y/n” Theo whispered to himself before running over to me as quick as he could. “Y/n can you hear me” he whispered rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I didn’t say anything but I moved my hand up to hold his as I fell in and out of consciousness. “Take her to the hospital” Kate called out. “You’re just going to let us go? Just like that?” “You told me you’re no longer part of the pack- why’s that?” Kate shrugged stepping closer. “I told them y/n needed help that she’d been taken- but they didn’t care- they treat her badly- I don’t like their morals” he answered.

“Then they’re your enemy just as much as mine, it would be silly to hurt a potential ally” Kate raised an eyebrow. Theo didn’t say anything he just turned to me ignoring her comment and lifting me into his chest. He nodded at Kate when we left and he reversed out the space. Theo then sped all the way to the hospital where he gave me across to Melisa.

The next day-

I woke up yawning in a hospital room. I was strapped into a bed and was attached to various drips. Theo was sitting in the corner with his eyes closed on a chair. They’d given him a blanket too. I smiled at him before picking up the buzzer next to me and pressing it. Theo jumped awake looking towards me. “Y-you’re awake” he stuttered scrambling up to come by my side. “Yeah- you’re here” I smiled warmly. “I- couldn’t leave you there knowing- I could do something” “Theo” I put my hand out for him to come closer.

He jumped up walking slowly over to me. He looked like he hand guilt behind his eyes. “Thank you” I breathed pulling him in for a hug. “Anytime gorgeous- anywhere” he whispered in my ear holding me tightly. “The pack were right behind me- I just am a better driver” he shrugged sitting on the side of my bed and holding my hand with both of his. “Yeah- I can imagine” I hummed rubbing his bicep gently. I looked at his arms and tried to put my whole hand around it. I couldn’t even get close.

Theo noticed what I was doing and chuckled. “Impressive mr reaken” I smiled squeezing his arm. “You know I think you’re gorgeous too” I blinked up at him. “You’ve never said it but I know that you think it” Theo winked at me leaning in closer so he could whisper. In that moment the door opened. “H-hey y/n” Scott waved smiling at me which must have been fake because he then looked at Theo with the same one.

“Oh you guys are here aw that’s so great” I smiled back, sitting up and putting my hand on my heart. Malia filtered in as the last one. Stiles and Lydia were there too. “Yeah we thought we’d come and check on you- make sure you’re ready for the big fight tonight” malia put her hands together. “Tonight?” Theo scoffed rolling his eyes. “Stop it” I whacked Theo on the rib gently. “Big fight mmh I remember you talking about it” I nodded “yeah that’s tonight so we need all hands on deck, so- we’re glad you’re okay” stiles laughed nervously.

“Obviously we would have rescued you our selves, but…” scott trailed off scratched the back of his head. “Yeah don’t worry Theo explained that you were right behind him” I smiled nodding. Scott eyed Theo before smiling at me and putting his thumb up. “Good- good good- so we will see you later then” Lydia waved and blew me a kiss. “Yeah you should go” I swiped my hand in the air.

“Mmh we should” stiles nodded making his way to the door. “Yeah you should, just don’t be expecting me at that big fight of yours” “what! Why?” Malia outburst, wrinkling her forehead. “I know Theo’s covering for you- you wasn’t right behind him you were tucked up in bed knowing I was in danger” I told them dropping the smile from my face. “I know you don’t like me and you treat me badly, you don’t appreciate me and you’re never going to accept me in this tight circle” I added in counting on my fingers.

“Y/n…” Scott blinked but I cut him off “no im not finished thank you for asking, you don’t respect me and it’s time I stopped respecting people who only showed up here to check it was okay to drag me out of bed to sit in another fight on the front line even though I’m still hurt from a previous wound from your battle you that forced me into!” I shouted pointing at the door. “You should be ashamed- and I should be ashamed it took me so long to realise” I folded my arms and lied back down.

“Y/n we…” “get the fuck out” Theo lit up his eyes standing up. “Fine” Scott swallowed and backed out the room with stiles and Lydia. “You’re both made for each other” she spat staring us up and down before storming out. Once they were gone Theo twisted his head to me. “How did you know?” He widened his eyes dropping his anger and becoming all soft again. He only did that with me. “I heard you- talking to Kate- I heard what they did to me and you and that you had left” I half smiled taking his hand to hold in mine.

“And I’ll follow you anywhere Theo raeken” I looked up into his eyes. Theo’s eyes flicked to my lips quickly and in seconds his were against mine. I smiled against his lips and put my hand against his head pulling him in closer. My heart fluttered and I didn’t want the moment to end. We pulled away staring into each other’s eyes. “I don’t know where we go from here but- I’m glad you’re here with me” Theo whispered, his eyes looked slightly scared. “We’ll figure it out together handsome” “I’ve never had anyone say that to me before” he breathed, I saw a flick of pain in his eyes.

“You have me now” I kissed his cheek gently. Theo smiled and puckered his lips for another kiss.

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