#berserk x y/n

[kurokawaia]

❛ 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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"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.

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.

[sophora2025]

Guts x Reader Headcanons | Berserk (Anime/Manga)

Protective Yet Distant at First

• At the beginning, Guts keeps a significant emotional distance. He’s been through so much betrayal and loss that he struggles to open up or even trust anyone, let alone let someone get close.

• Despite this, you’ll notice that he’s incredibly protective of you. He’ll instinctively position himself between you and any potential danger, even if it’s just a small argument with someone else. He never says much about it, but his actions make it clear he considers your safety paramount.

• Guts doesn’t do soft reassurances or comforting words. Instead, he’ll fix things for you without you even asking — like making sure your weapons are sharp, securing food, or covering you with his cloak if you’re cold.

Grudging Affection

• It takes time, but Guts slowly begins to show affection in small, almost reluctant ways. He’s not used to feeling anything but anger and vengeance, so loving someone feels foreign and even a little frightening for him.

• He might brush your hair out of your face or give you a fleeting touch on the shoulder after a battle, and that’s when you know he’s starting to care more than he lets on.

• His affection usually comes in practical forms: he’s the first to fix up your wounds, no matter how minor, and if you’re ever feeling down or upset, he won’t say much — but he’ll sit close to you, offering his silent company as comfort.

Wounded Protector

• Guts is so used to being a protector, it’s ingrained in his soul. His instinct is to shield you from the horrors of the world, but at the same time, he knows you’re capable and strong. It’s a fine line he walks — letting you fight alongside him while constantly worrying for your safety.

• After particularly brutal battles, Guts will be torn between making sure you’re alright and tending to his own injuries. His own wounds mean nothing to him if you’re in danger, and he’ll brush off his pain just to ensure you’re okay.

• He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes if you’re hurt. It’s one of the few times you’ll see him let down his guard and express genuine care. When he tends to your wounds, his hands are surprisingly gentle for someone who’s lived his life by the sword.

Quiet Nights of Reflection

• Guts doesn’t talk much about his past, but there are moments, especially in the quiet of night, when the weight of everything he’s been through becomes unbearable. He’ll sit silently by a campfire or in your shared tent, staring off into the distance.

• You’ll sometimes catch him in these moments, and while he won’t ask for comfort, the mere presence of you sitting next to him is enough. He might not say anything, but he’ll relax a little, his posture less tense, as if your presence is grounding him.

• Occasionally, he’ll talk about his childhood or memories of the Band of the Hawk. These moments are rare, but when they happen, you realize just how much pain and loss Guts carries with him every day.

Physical Comfort

• Guts isn’t the most verbally affectionate person, but over time, he grows to express his feelings physically. Whether it’s wrapping an arm around your waist as you walk together or holding you close at night, his touches are always protective, always deliberate.

• During rough nights, when his dreams are plagued by memories of Griffith or his battles with Apostles, he sometimes reaches for you in his sleep, gripping your hand or arm as if afraid to lose you. You’ll wake up to find him tense, but your touch always calms him down.

• When you’re both resting after a long day, Guts will often let you lean on him, whether you’re sitting by a campfire or on the battlefield after the fight has ended. It’s his way of showing that he trusts you and finds solace in your presence.

Unshakable Loyalty

• Once Guts lets you into his life, he is fiercely loyal. Betrayal has scarred him deeply, so the fact that he’s allowed himself to care for you means everything. He will protect you with his life, no questions asked.

• His loyalty shows not just in battle but in the small moments. If you need something — anything — he will find a way to get it, even if he doesn’t admit it’s because he cares about you. He’s not the kind of person to confess feelings easily, but you’ll know through his actions that you mean the world to him.

• Guts sees you as one of the few people who genuinely understands him, and though he may not show it outright, he fears losing you in the same way he’s lost so many others.

Soft Vulnerability

• While Guts has a tough exterior, there are rare moments when he lets his guard down completely. After long battles or when you’ve both found a rare moment of peace, you’ll catch a glimpse of the man beneath the warrior.

• He might lay his head in your lap or let you clean his wounds, allowing himself to be vulnerable around you in ways he wouldn’t be with anyone else. When his mind isn’t consumed by vengeance or fighting, he finds quiet comfort in your touch, though he won’t speak of it.

• You’re one of the few people who can get Guts to smile — and when it happens, it’s fleeting, but it’s real. You can tell he’s grateful to have you by his side, even if he struggles to express it.

Dealing with His Rage

• Guts carries a lot of anger and trauma, and sometimes it gets the better of him. When he’s deep in his rage, he becomes terrifying — but you’re one of the few who can pull him back from the edge.

• He hates it when you see him in that state, afraid that his anger might scare you away or worse, hurt you. But you’ve always stayed, always reminded him that he’s more than just a weapon, more than just the Black Swordsman.

• In those moments, he’ll withdraw, not wanting you to see him at his lowest. But if you reach out, he’ll let you in, appreciating the steadying force you provide, even if he can’t articulate it.

Fierce Protector of Your Bond

• Guts isn’t someone who shares easily. If anyone tries to come between the two of you or threatens your bond, his reaction is swift and merciless. He won’t tolerate any threat to your relationship.

• He doesn’t speak about his feelings in public — and anyone prying into his personal life will get nothing but silence or a sharp glare. But with you, in private moments, he lets you know you’re his in small, meaningful ways — an arm around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, the way he shields you without saying a word.

• Even if Guts can’t always express his feelings verbally, his commitment to you is undeniable. He’s chosen to fight for something more than just revenge, and you’ve become an anchor in his chaotic world.

Guts would likely struggle with allowing someone close to him, given his traumatic past and solitary nature, but once he does, his loyalty and love would be unmatched. He’s someone who shows his emotions through actions, and his protectiveness and vulnerability with you would reflect how deeply he cares, even if the words never come easily.

[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.”

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[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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[kurokawaia]

❛ His Visits ❜

GoldenAge!Griffith X fem!princess!Reader

| YANDERE THEMES (?) | NSFW |

WC; 1.7k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; reader is implied to be charlottes sister!! use of '{Y/n}', yandere themes, possessive behaviour, fab!reader, smut, piv, no protection, breeding (?), use of 'sir', use of 'princess', sensation play (?), touch restrictions + more

SYNOPSIS; Griffith has been annoyed by whatever has happened between the Hawks, and no matter what happens, how he relieves that stress, he always comes to you. His pretty little princess. His tool to use in not only stress relief but to gain power.

m.list | berserk m.list

As I lay there in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through my chamber window, a faint rustling outside caught my attention. My heart quickened. Griffith. He always came to me this way, slipping into my room.

I held my breath as he gracefully landed on the plush carpet. There was something undeniably captivating about him, something that drew me in even as it set my nerves on edge.

"Hello, my dear," he murmured, his voice like silk, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes, locked onto mine, and I couldn't tear my gaze away.

I tried to muster a response, but words failed me in his presence. There was an intensity to him, a darkness lurking beneath his charming exterior that both terrified and fascinated me.

Griffith moved closer, his every step deliberate, as if he were savoring the anticipation of what was to come. His hand reached out, brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that belied the possessive gleam in his eyes.

"You're mine," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "Only mine."

I wonder about why his words were so openly possessive.

Someone had said something to him.

A chill ran down my spine, but a part of me couldn't deny the twisted thrill that surged through me at his words. His obsession with me was palpable, suffocating, yet I found myself drawn to it, to him, like a moth to a flame.

And as he leaned in, his lips inches from mine, I knew that resistance was futile. In Griffith's world, there was no room for anything but his desires, and I was helplessly ensnared in his web of darkness and obsession.

Even though our relationship isn't permitted, I couldn't help it.

Griffith catches my hand before I make contact with his chest and guides it up to his neck. He finishes closing the distance between us, bringing us chest to chest, he kisses me and I forget anything else but getting him inside me as quickly as possible.

He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The new position has his cock nearly lined up perfectly where I need him, but he moves before I can lose my mind enough to take advantage. We fell down to the bed, inciting a out of breath huff from my throat.

My need is an all-consuming thing that’s been building since the moment I laid eyes on him and I knew that he needed me as well. was his queen in his eyes, even though I am truly a princess he needed my status to become a prince himself.

Griffiths reputation was the 'falcon of light'. We were perfect for eachother, no matter what he will do to me, I will always be his stepping stone.

He takes my hands and guides them up to the headboard. “Keep them here," Griffith mumbled against my neck.

“Griffith.” I’m panting as if I’ve run a great distance. “Please. I want to touch you.”

“You shall do as I say, princess,” he repeats and gives my wrists a squeeze and he didn't need to say it again, I’m already nodding, I'll listen to him, forever and always.

Griffith lifted the pale pink nightgown up my hips, his cold hands dragging up the sides of my body causing me to arch my back into his touch. A breathy sigh left the confines of my mouth at the tingling sensation that he left behind. He pulled the nightgown over my head and trailed kisses below my ear to my collar bone.

He moved off my body to my dismay and stripped down his armour, revealing his pale, milky skin I've seen many times before. Griffith snuck into my chambers more than often. He took his time peeling the metal and fabric underneath off him and it made me tremble, I needed him so bad.

Griffith finally shifts back to kneel between my spread thighs. His front is in a somewhat of a shadow casted by the fire burning and crackling from the fireplace, but I have the feeling that he can see me in detail from the moonlight through the windows.

He cups my breasts, but he doesn’t linger long before he slides down my body and presses an openmouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below my belly button. Content sighs left my mouth as my hands disobeyed his orders and entangled into his hair.

And then he’s at my pussy. His breath shudders out against my clit as if he’s just as affected by this moment as I am. Maybe more so.

“Your hands, {Y/n},” Griffith hummed against my clit causing a moan to slip out my mouth. "Remove them, or I'll bind them together."

I grip the sheets above my head unwillingly as he continued his advances to my clit and fight to stay still. “Please, Sir Griffith, take me."

I just want him.

He drags his tongue over my entrance. The only warning I got from was the tightening grip he had on my thigh got constrictive. There is no savoring, no teasing, no tempting me. He goes after me like he’ll never get this chance again.

Each time I exhaled sounded more like a pleasured sob. I can’t think, can’t move, can’t do anything but obey his order to hang on and take the pleasure he has rising with every movement of his tongue. I start shaking and can’t stop.

“Sir Griffith,” I moaned out.

He doesn’t respond, just keeps up the same movements that have desire coiling tighter and tighter through me. It’s too good. I want it to last. He sucks my clit hard into his mouth and pushes two fingers into me.

I come so hard, it feels like every system is shutting down. It’s as if that orgasm took his edge off because he takes his time now, dragging his mouth over my stomach, kissing the curves of my breasts.

I’m still spinning, but each touch, combined with the weight of his body on mine, slowly draws me back to earth. I lick my lips.

“Griffith?”

He pauses. “Princess.”

“Let me touch you, please.”

His breath shudders out against my neck causing my to shiver, he hooked his arm under one of my thighs lifted my leg up beside him.

“You are touching me.”

“I didn't mean like that,” I huffed as I shivered under the touch of his bare skin touching my own and his lips making wet sucks across my breasts.

I don’t release the sheets from my grasp, I didn't want to anger him.

I knew something was bothering him, he was annoyed at something, that's the one of the reasons he comes to see me, he uses my body and I let him without complaint because I want him so badly.

This is only sex, an act that can be simmered down to its basic components. I desire him, so naturally I want to touch him. I don’t want this to stop, so of course I won’t disobey his order. Except it doesn’t feel that simple. Griffith is very intentionally hiding from me.

“Griffith, please. I want to help you."

He hesitates so long, he doesn't move after his lips unlatched from my skin, he’s going to deny me again. He muttered something incoherent and reached over my head to take one of my hands and bring it down to press against his chest, and then repeats the motion with my other hand. The skin is too smooth in some places, even though there were scars, they felt smooth.

In the hushed silence of my chamber, I don't utter a single word as I trail my fingertips down Griffith's chest, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. His breath hitches, but he remains unnervingly still, his eyes fixated on me with a possessive intensity that sends a thrill down my spine.

With deliberate slowness, I arch up to meet his lips, a silent agreement passing between us. Words are unnecessary in this moment of tangled desire and unspoken understanding. Griffith's presence is both intoxicating and suffocating, his possessive tendencies swirling around us like a dangerous whirlpool.

Griffith lifts one leg to rest over his shoulder as he kneels between my thighs. I don’t have time to comment because half a breath later, he’s inside me. He sheaths himself to the hilt and we exhale in tandem. Griffith barely gives me a second to adjust before he starts fucking me. Long, thorough strokes that have me completely pinned to the bed.

He lowers himself and brings up my other leg in the same position as the other, my legs being pressed to my upper body while Griffiths weight held down. Griffith adjusts his angle and picks up his pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that I can’t hold back.

“Oh, please. Don’t stop,” I whined. Words slip from my lips, forming into his name, over and over again. He leans down, bending my body to his will, and claims my mouth as I come.

His strokes get rougher, less even, and then he’s following me over the edge, his warmth spills inside me and I whimper against his mouth. My bones turn liquid even as I fight not to break the kiss. It’s gone from fierce to something gentle, almost loving. As if he’s telling me without words how pleased he is with me. It’s not something I would have thought I needed before now, but it settles a jagged piece in my chest.

Griffith finally pulls away. “Don’t move.”

I lay there, spent and breathless, the aftermath of our encounter leaving me feeling both exhilarated and unnerved. His touch still lingered on my skin, a reminder of the intensity of his advances.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down my spine.

I watched in silence as he dressed, his movements precise and deliberate, betraying none of the tumultuous emotions that had gripped us moments before.

Then he left again, leaving me.

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[pfpanimes]

⌕ bungo stray dogs • kunikida.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[sophora2025]

Guts x Reader NSFW Alphabet | Berserk (Anime/Manga)

A = Aftercare

Despite his gruff exterior, Guts is surprisingly tender after intimacy. He’ll make sure you’re comfortable, checking if you’re hurt, and will hold you close. His way of showing love post-activity is usually silent, but his actions—like stroking your hair or wrapping you up in his cloak—say more than words ever could.

B = Body Part

For Guts, he’s incredibly strong and takes pride in his strength. His arms and hands are probably his favorite body parts, as they allow him to protect you, but he’s conscious of how large and rough they are when touching you, always aiming for gentleness. On you, he’s mesmerized by your eyes and the way they seem to soften even his most hardened edges.

C = Cum

He’s primal, so there’s something raw and instinctual about it when Guts finishes. He prefers to be inside you if possible—it makes him feel closer to you, more connected—but if not, he doesn’t mind the mess. It’s just another part of the experience for him.

D = Dirty Secret

Though Guts carries himself with confidence, he has a bit of insecurity about whether he’s “too much” for you, both emotionally and physically. He sometimes holds back out of fear of hurting you, but deep down, he fantasizes about letting go completely in the moment, trusting that you can handle him.

E = Experience

Guts has had limited experiences due to the chaotic nature of his life. He’s not a complete stranger to intimacy, but his focus has always been survival. With you, though, he’s eager to learn what pleases you, taking mental notes of your reactions and gradually refining his technique to make every encounter better for both of you.

F = Favorite Position

He prefers positions where he can see your face and feel your body pressed close to his. Missionary is his go-to because it allows for deep, intimate connection, but he also likes when you straddle him, where he can hold your hips and let you take the lead for a while.

G = Goofy

Guts isn’t exactly the playful type during intimacy. His focus is intense and driven by passion rather than humor. However, there are rare moments when something unexpected happens, and you might catch him cracking a small smile, especially if you’re laughing.

H = Hair

He’s rough around the edges in every sense, including his body hair. Guts doesn’t care much about grooming, as his mind is usually occupied with battles and survival. However, his hair is naturally coarse, and it adds to the raw, rugged nature of his presence.

I = Intimacy

Though his life has been full of violence and tragedy, Guts craves intimacy, even if he doesn’t always know how to express it. When he’s with you, it’s a release for him—both emotionally and physically. He’s incredibly attentive to you, and every touch is filled with a kind of vulnerability he only shares with you.

J = Jack Off

When he’s away for long periods, Guts doesn’t usually give in to his urges unless the frustration becomes unbearable. His thoughts tend to linger on you when he does, remembering how you look, sound, and feel, which intensifies the experience. However, he’d much rather wait until he can be with you again.

K = Kink

Guts has a primal, dominant side to him. He’s drawn to power dynamics, and though he’s usually in control, he secretly enjoys when you take charge. He’s also into light restraint—either having you pinned beneath him or holding your wrists. It’s not about overpowering you, but about the closeness and trust that comes with giving in to his strength.

L = Location

Guts is usually practical about where intimacy happens, given his unpredictable life. However, he loves when you’re in a safe, quiet place where he can let his guard down fully. A secluded spot in nature or a hidden corner of a camp would be ideal for him—somewhere away from prying eyes.

M = Motivation

Seeing you safe and happy is enough to motivate him. After the chaos of his life, being close to you is like a sanctuary. He’s especially drawn to you when you show him affection or when you’re vulnerable with him. Any time he feels like you’re emotionally connecting with him, his need for you deepens.

N = No

Guts has a strong protective streak, so anything that could potentially harm you—physically or emotionally—is off the table. He’d never engage in anything that feels too rough or degrading. If you ever express discomfort, he immediately stops, his focus shifting to making sure you’re okay.

O = Oral (Giving)

Guts is surprisingly good at giving oral. While he’s more of a “doer” than a talker, his determination and focus make him skilled at figuring out what makes you feel good. He’s thorough and pays close attention to your reactions, taking pride in driving you over the edge.

P = Pace

His pace can vary depending on the situation. When he’s stressed or pent-up, it can be rough and fast, almost desperate, but he’s capable of slowing things down, especially if he’s focused on making the moment last. He prefers to savor you, despite the wild passion that often surfaces.

Q = Quickie

Guts has no problem with quickies, especially when his life rarely affords him long stretches of time for intimacy. He’s practical and understands that sometimes all you have is a fleeting moment together. In those instances, it’s fast and intense, but still satisfying for both of you.

R = Risk

Given his lifestyle, Guts isn’t afraid of taking risks in general. However, he’s always mindful of your safety. He won’t initiate anything too risky if there’s a chance of someone catching you or if the environment is unsafe, but the thrill of danger sometimes excites him.

S = Stamina

Guts has incredible stamina thanks to his training and constant battle readiness. He can last a long time and isn’t easily exhausted, often going for multiple rounds if the moment calls for it. He’s determined to make sure you’re fully satisfied before he even thinks about stopping.

T = Toys

He’s not familiar with toys and doesn’t feel the need to use them. For Guts, intimacy is a very physical and raw experience, and he prefers to rely on his own body to please you. That said, if you were interested, he’d be open to exploring new things with you, as long as it enhances your connection.

U = Unfair

Guts isn’t the teasing type. He’s too direct and straightforward for that. If anything, he’s eager to give you pleasure and doesn’t enjoy dragging things out unnecessarily. He’s more likely to jump right into things once the mood strikes, focused on mutual satisfaction.

V = Volume

Guts isn’t overly loud, but he does let out low, guttural groans when he’s particularly lost in the moment. His voice can be gravelly and breathless, especially when he’s nearing release, and hearing you respond to him only makes him more vocal.

W = Wild Card

Though he’s often in control, Guts occasionally craves a complete role reversal. He’d love to see you take charge and push him out of his comfort zone—especially after a day where he’s been carrying the weight of the world. Letting you lead would be a rare but deeply satisfying experience for him.

X = X-Ray

Guts is incredibly well-built, with years of combat training showing in every muscle. His physique is impressive and intimidating to most, but he’s also aware of the contrast when it comes to you, making sure he’s always gentle despite his size and strength.

Y = Yearning

Guts feels an intense longing for you when you’re apart. His life is filled with darkness and struggle, so you’re often a source of light for him. When he’s away on dangerous missions or fighting, thoughts of you keep him going, and when he finally reunites with you, his desire is powerful, almost overwhelming.

Z = Zzz

Afterward, Guts doesn’t fall asleep immediately. He’s always on high alert, but once he’s sure you’re resting peacefully, he’ll allow himself to relax. He might stay awake a little longer, holding you close, savoring the rare calm he finds in your presence before drifting off into a deep, well-earned sleep.

[marblemoovt]

Starting that smut fic with Guts. Debating on whether it should take place in the same universe as Love Triangle, which it probably will.

Here's a sneak peek:

Cold water cascades down your body, beating into your skin. The temperature was freezing before, but 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 sunlight hits them just right. 

A hand sears 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.

[call-sign-shark]

The way I jumped on this notification I swear...

Ah shit, her new life didn't last long. I know that's uncool but I couldn't help but laugh at her misfortune because... Sheesh, that's unfair. 😅 Nevertheless I was s h o o k when I learnt that Tommy was the one behind this chain of unfortunate events. Thanks, Polly for lending her Ada's room, she's a true hero. And here we have a scene with our three idiots. I swear I love John with all my heart but I couldn't help rolling my eyes at his drunkness because he's just sooo stupid. Like he hides the whiskey stains because he's afraid of Pol's reaction lmaooo. Nevertheless, we all should pick up this : "For once, he was the lesser drunk out of the three." ARTHUR BABE. That's a miracle! The reason why he drinks carefully is adorable. You know Brummie, I already love him far too much for my own sanity, you don't need to make things worst... Because Gosh, your portrayal of him is so in character and, at the same time, so soft in this series that I am SQUEALING.

" Nah, Y/N was an angel" Arthur said resting his hands on his stomach as the four glasses of sharp liquor started to weigh down his heavy eyes." It's the other one I didn't get. You had it all Tom, what the hell was that?" I swear he's the real king of Hopelessly Devoted. Say it, Arty. Your brother had been a dumbass with our lovely and truthful little Y/N. I love how he's always protecting his little sister, even against Tommy. Btw her violent reaction was unexpected but so deserved -- fucking with Grace only to piss off Y/N is childish asf. "Drunk, one arm bloody, hair disheveled, he looked a mess, a desperate pitiful mess." now that's what I like. Now he understands how he made her feel. This passage is a masterpiece -- the contrast of the elegant and cold Tommy being shitfaced, bloody, messy and vulnerable is really enjoyable. Serves him right for being a cunt. Her rage got me all excited! Is she going to spit facts right at his face? Oh God I hope so.

"I'm not your sweetheart anymore. I'm done Tommy." you cried turning around as Tommy's hand dropped from your face. Such a powerful line, my heart aches for her. Also when she explains that she might have broken his heart once but he did it all over again was brilliant. He's been stomping her freaking glass balloon for five damn years. I must admit that I also feel for Tommy, who might be an idiot but who is definitely suffering from the situation too. Like, the scene in which he drops on his knees and yells at the world to look at him begging was sooo dramatic but incredibly well written and emotional. I don't know why but it's so aesthetic??

AHHH CURLY. He's just a baby, please protect him at all costs. I don't know how you did it but I could see this in my mind. I could HEAR Charlie and Curly. Your writing skills are really at their peak with this new series, they leave me fucking speechless. "She still comes in here. Find her siting there watching Curly brush the horses like she did when she was a kid, like when you were both kids" I am delighted by the short mention of their childhood memories. It fleshes out Y/N and depicts happier and more innocent times. It also helps us understand her devotion to Tommy and how miserable he has been since they broke up. Also Uncle Charlie's quiet and eternally cold demeanor when asking if he had broken Y/N's heart again ... *chief's kiss*.

If I had to select one favorite passage it would be the difference between Tommy's posy flowers and the grandiloquent and expensive bouquet he gifts her now in a vain attempt to be forgiven. It speaks SO MUCH and it's one of a fucking brilliant way to highlight how much he has changed after the war. The word "pitiful" is also well chosen to describe what he's trying to do. At first I was rooting for her when she told Archie her plans! AND GOSH!! Tommy threatening everyone not to give her a job... It's pure manipulation and frankly Yandere. He really wants to corner her. "five years worth of pent-up anger coming his way too." Ouuuhhh Y/N isn't going to be easy on her and she's going to release the wild girl she was teehee.

Incredible chapter Brummie! From the plot to the writing to the portrayal of characters. When I tell you I'm disappointed when I finish the chapter I'm not joking. You have a real talent for creating suspense and you really leave us wanting more. I am really impatient for the next update! Just wow. Much astounded by this series. You're a gem, honey. 🖤

PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART FIVE)

Summary: After your tearful departure from Small Heath, you find your way back in the town you bid farewell to quicker than expected, Inevitably back to face the very man who told you to leave. Will your unavoidable confrontation with Tommy threaten to put an even heavier strain on your already fragile relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood

" Fuck, fuck fuck!" you sobbed dropping your keys on the floor as you furiously wiped away your tears. With one sharp kick in frustration to the old wooden door at your current predicament you slumped down onto the cobbled floor as the clouds broke open and a deluge of rain poured down on you. Great.

" Y/N?..." You heard Polly's voice say in the darkened alleyway, her heels echoing loudly through the back row of house as she hurried over to you, holding her brolly up from the torrential rain now pouring down on the entire town. Yes that's right, Polly. You was back. Your dramatic departure filled with tears and sorrow in attempts to escape both your broken heart and Tommy's fury lasted all but one day. One fucking day. You quickly learnt upon your arrival in London after meeting with the Landlord that there had been a mistake or, what you had determined to be an absolute bollocks of an injustice. There was no letting, or at least there wasn't anymore. Greed knows no bounds and the Landlord your cousin had spoken of was no different. With little sympathy he quickly explained to you that he had let the property out to someone else, favouring their six months advance in rent over your measly one month deposit, leaving you on the doorstep of the flat you hoped you would call home with a puff from his cigar and a snide smirk as he slammed the door In your face. " Y/N?" Polly said as she helped you up from the ground, her eyes wide in confusion." You should be in London. What are you doing back here love?" She questioned as she pulled you under her umbrella, rubbing you arm up and down in attempts to warm you up.

" I was. But like everything in my life it was a disaster. I can't do anything right " you said as you sniffed back your tears bending down to pick up your keys.

" Disaster? You've only been gone twenty-four hours. What could have gone so wrong that you found yourself back in this shit hole?" She replied looking around her as she kicked a clump of mud off the end of her pristine black boots.

" Landlord had a better proposition, six months worth of rent in advance" you replied as you wrapped your hands around your body from the cold.

" Greedy bastard" she replied with an irritated huff on your behalf. "What about your cousin, you couldn't have stayed with her?"

"She's not there. Neighbour said she went to Hull on holiday. A holiday, In winter, who does that?" nobody does Polly thought to herself, especially not somewhere as bitterly windy as Hull. This was all too much of a coincidence for her liking. There was only one person that could have arranged all this within the space of twenty four hours and he was currently sat in the Garrison with her two other nephews and half a bottle of whisky in his hand. Deciding to spare you any further misery for one day she kept her suspicions to herself, but not without mentally taking note to give her meddling nephew a sharp smack to the back of his head the moment he had sobered up and the warm lull of alcohol had worn off. " I have two weeks left of rent on this place Pol. I kept a key just in case" you said turning to look up at your bedsit window. " He's changed the fucking locks on the back door, I can't get in!" you started to sob again as you looked down at the keys in your hand." Pol what am I supposed to do?"

" Come on, you'll stop at mine" she said hooking her arm in yours as she started walking you out the alleyway.

" Pol, Tommy...I can't " you said as you abruptly pulled away.

" Yes you can. You'll stop in Ada's old room. And as for Tommy, you let me worry about him. Understood?" she replied, not giving you a chance to argue otherwise as she took you by the arm once again. " I doubt you'll see him anyway love. He'll be in the Garrison until the early hours drowning in his sorrows"

" Sorrows? What's he got to be sorry about, thought he had everything made?"

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you..."

" Bewitched, she bloody bewitched you!" John slurred as he raised his glass of whisky up to the ceiling whilst he precariously tried to pour a steady stream of the amber liquor down into his mouth, half of it inevitably spilling onto his freshly ironed shirt.

"No. Y/N bewitched me. Bewitched me since we were kids" Tommy said as he slammed his glass down onto the table, reaching in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

" Fucking hell, that good was it Tommy?" John laughed with a snort as Arthur threw a cushion at his head causing the remainder of his whisky to tip over onto the plush crimson sofa he was laying on. Polly would certainly have his head for that.

" Wouldn't fucking know anymore, it's been five years" Tommy mumbled under his breath lighting a cigarette as he let his body fall back into the arm chair. But he did know, he did remember. He'd thought about you every night since the day he boarded the train for France. Thought about the small whimpers he would coax from your lips as he rocked his body into yours. The way he'd wrap you tightly in his arms after as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the gentle sounds of you breathing as his own eyes became heavy, and he joined you in peaceful dreams. Now all he heard was the sound of shovels on the four walls of his room, reminding him of what he had lost, what he had endured in those lonely nights away from you. Not that he would admit it of course.

" So what's your plan Tom?" Arthur said as he looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquor from side to side before downing it. For once, he was the lesser drunk out of the three. Polly had given him strict instructions to go easy on the whisky and watch that Tommy didn't drink himself into oblivion. What Polly really meant was to not drink at all, but all Arthur heard was " go easy". And he had, albeit within his own limits before he too was too drunk to stand and ended up as hammered as his two younger brothers.

" Bloody Plan. I don't have a plan" Tommy lied as he stood up, leaning his arm on the mantle of the fire place to keep himself steady as he looked into the flames.

" You not going to London after her then?" Arthur asked as a heavy feeling of guilt started to sit uncomfortably in the pit of Tommy's stomach. The truth was Tommy did have a plan, one that had started to play on his conscious like the many other things he had added in the last twenty-four hours.

" She won't be in London for long" Tommy replied as he flicked his cigarette into the flames.

" Jesus Tom, what you done now?" Arthur said as he stood up, handing him the bottle of whisky to further dull his guilt.

" Something I'll regret no doubt" he said taking the bottle, intent on finishing its contents before Arthur grabbed it back. Pulling out your gold watch from his trouser pocket Tommy rubbed his thumb over the front, the wear and tear of the years he had kept it by his side more noticeable the longer he looked at it. " Fucking women eh?" Tommy said as he cleared his throat placing the watch back in his pocket.

" Your fucking women. You don't half pick 'em" John replied as he sat up rubbing the back of his neck as he placed a cushion over the whisky stain beside him, hopeful Polly wouldn't notice.

" Nah, Y/N was an angel" Arthur said resting his hands on his stomach as the four glasses of sharp liquor started to weigh down his heavy eyes." It's the other one I didn't get. You had it all Tom, what the hell was that?"

" To piss Y/N off" Tommy said shamefully when the front door creaked open and you and Polly walked in from the rain.

" To piss me off?..." You said, standing their stunned having heard the entirety of their conversation.

" Y/N..." Tommy said stumbling your name out as he turned to face you, his eyes wide at the realisation you had heard his spiteful confession.

" What the bloody hell are you lot doing here? You're supposed to be in the Garrison" Polly said as she shook the rain from her umbrella, her eyes darting between you and Tommy and the death stare you was sending him. It was all about to kick off.

" Grace was to fucking piss me off?!" You shouted as you marched over, grabbing the bottle of whisky from Arthur's hand and launching it in Tommy's direction.

" Jesus fucking Christ!" John shouted as he jumped out the way, dodging the bottle that landed on the floor beside him as a barrage of other objects came flying Tommy's way.

" Y/N, darling, I didn't mean it like that..." Tommy attempted to say with his hands out as a vase of flowers landed on him, gashing his arm. "Fuck!" he yelled as he looked down at the shard of glass lodged in his skin.

" She got you good there Tom" Arthur chuckled, amused at the fact his little brother was finally getting his dues. " Stay still" Arthur said getting up as he rubbed his hands together ready to play the surgeon. Looking sheepishly over to you Tommy watched as you turned around and stormed out the house.

"Y/N wait!" Tommy shouted as he pushed his brothers hands away, pulling out the piece of glass stuck in his arm with a loud grunt. " Y/N it's pissing it outside, come back in!" he yelled after you as he ran through the living room, stumbling over the edge of the coffee table in the process. Drunk, one arm bloody, hair disheveled, he looked a mess, a desperate pitiful mess.

" Fuck off Tommy!" you shouted, arms crossed as you walked rapidly down Watery Lane.

" Y/N I'm sorry alright! I'm fucking sorry!" He yelled back in the middle of the street, awakening the whole neighborhood as the rain continued to violently pour down on the small town. " I thought it was you. Isaiah, Kimber's men...what, what else was I supposed to think?" he said coming to a stop as you continued to ignore him." You started all this you know, five years ago when you broke my heart!"

" Shut up, shut the fuck up! You screamed as you span around, storming back to him having had enough of hearing the same broken record non- stop for five years. Coming face to face with him, Tommy took a step back. He had never seen you this way, this angry this furious, the softness of your face replaced with a rage he had created. "Have you ever, ever once stopped to think that when you left me on that platform when you didn't look back, you broke my heart too!"

" I did look.."

" Shut up Tommy, just stop!" you cut him off unwilling to entertain anything he had to say as the whirlwind of anger stormed within you.

" Y/N" Tommy said reaching his hand out for you that got quickly slapped away by your own.

" I may have broken your heart first Tommy but every day since you have broken mine over and over again. I waited Tommy, waited five years. Watched you move on with that barmaid, stood there as you accused me of stabbing you in the back" you sobbed, the bitter reality of your unrelenting devotion towards him and all the years you had wasted trying to please him cutting sharper then any cruel passing comment he had ever made." All because I loved you...because I couldn't let go" you sobbed as the anger that had been building in you rapidly left, leaving you stood there deflated.

" Sweetheart please.." Tommy pleaded hearing the hurt in your voice as he gently cupped your cheek, slowly moving closer to press his forehead against yours.

" I'm not your sweetheart anymore. I'm done Tommy." you cried turning around as Tommy's hand dropped from your face.

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted, watching you walk away as he stumbled forward slipping over the wet dirt covered ground, the half bottle of whisky he had drunk dulling his usually sharp reflects. " Have a look everyone, take a good fucking look!" he yelled watching the neighbours curtains twitch from behind their windows, his yelling bringing the whole street's attention to the commotion he was responsible for. "Tommy Shelby on his fucking knees begging, happy now Y/N. Y/N!"

" Bloody hell, get up Tom. You're making a fucking scene" Arthur said looking around the street as him and John pulled him up from the ground.

" How much has he drunk?" Polly said storming over with Tommy's coat as Arthur and John held him up.

" I don't know half a bottle, maybe more" he replied as he brushed the rain off Tommy's face." His alright Pol, ain't you Tom?"

" Arthur, I told you to keep an eye on him. He's a miserable bastard when he's drunk" Polly said looking to her nephew as she placed the coat around Tommy's shoulders.

" Would you all just fuck off..." Tommy slurred, pushing his brothers off him as he walked off into the night.

" Tommy where you going?" John called out ready to follow when Arthur put his hand out.

" Let him drink it off John boy" Arthur said watching him stumble around the corner.

" Don't you mean sleep it off?"

" Drink it off. Tommy's barely slept a wink since him and Y/N broke up"

" Best we leave him to it. The drink will force him to sleep whether he wants to or not" Polly said as she ushered her nephews back to the house. " Come on, in" she ordered them as she turned around to shut the door. " One day, just one day I'd like us not to be the talk of this town"

" Tommy, Tommy! You sick Tommy?" Curly said as he bent down to Tommy laying in a heap of hay inside one of the horses stalls on Charlie's yard early the next morning, his hand grasped tightly around another bottle of whisky he had presumably found on his way there.

" Nothing the hair of the dog can't fix" Charlie said as he bent down lifting Tommy's peaked cap up as Tommy slowly opened his eyes . " Think he's had enough of the good stuff, get him a glass of vinegar instead Curly" Charlie said as Tommy grunted at the idea of his Uncles hangover cure.

" Vinegar, I'll go get vinegar for you Tom. We'll have you back in shape in no time" Curly said as he hurried off out of the stall.

" Tommy get up, you're laying in horses shit" Charlie said as he grabbed the bottle of whisky from his hand. "You won't find what your looking for at the bottom of a bottle Tom" Charlie said as he poured its contents onto the cobbled stable floor beside him whilst Tommy watched the only thing that dulled his self-inflicted guilt slip away. " Y/N?" Charlie said as he turned the tin water bucket upside down to sit next to him, handing him a cigarette.

" Written across my face is it Uncle?" Tommy said as Charlie leaned over to light the end.

" Always did find your way back here, sleeping with the horses when you two would have it off. That and a bowl of cold water on you when she'd find you the next day" Charlie said as Tommy let out a scoff of a laugh looking down at the cigarette between his fingers. " She still comes in here. Find her siting there watching Curly brush the horses like she did when she was a kid, like when you were both kids" he said as he nodded to the bench in the corner of the stall as Tommy rested the back of his head on the wooden enclosure whilst the memories of happier times flooded back to him.

" Started when her dad died. Would bring us here to get away from her mum and Polly's sharp hand on the back of my head" Tommy chuckled as he breathed out a cloud of smoke. " Just wanted her to enjoy the quiet" he sighed rubbing his thumb along his brow as last night's drinking started to catch up with him. How long would he keep doing this?

" Times changed" Charlie said as he looked over to Tommy's eyes fixed on the bench in the corner where you'd both sit " So what did you do this time then Tom?"

" What haven't I done?" Tommy replied as he stood up adjusting his coat around him.

" Still breaking her heart?" Charlie said looking up to Tommy as he watched him pat down the horse he had for company the whole night, thankful he couldn't repeat his drunken rambles.

" Since I boarded the train for France, so I've been told"

" You were too young Tommy. You were about to go off to fight. You could have left her a widow when she was still a kid herself. But I'm guessing that's not all you've done." Charlie said as Tommy listened and let his Uncles words sink in. " Make it right Tom. She's been good to you, she don't deserve this"

" Think I ruined all chances of that Charlie" Tommy said giving up, straightening his peaked cap out as he walked out into the bitter morning mist.

"Bollocks. Bite the bullet and do what you got to do Tom, else you'll spend the rest of your life looking down that whisky bottle" Charlie said as he walked off, throwing the empty glass bottle into the cut.

"Vinegar Tommy" curly said running up to Tommy as he squinted through the fog, watching his Uncle walk off into the yard.

" Save it Curly, for when I'm really down in the dirt, ey?" Tommy said as he patted his shoulder, forgoing the idea of drinking Charlie's sharp remedy to bring him to his senses. His words had been enough. It was time for him to pay the piper and own up to his mistakes if he ever wanted to win you back.

It had been a week since your return to the town you thought you had bid farewell to and a week since you had last seen Tommy, having avoided every one of his attempts to talk to you. After a sharp word to your landlord Polly handed you a new set of keys to your bedsit the very next day. But with only one weeks worth of rent paid left, and your unexpected return ticket from London costing more that you thought it would, your savings were dwindling. Polly had offered you help even asking you to come back to the betting shop, an offer you was convinced Tommy had been the first to suggest. Declining both propositions and adamant on showing Tommy you didn't need, nor want his help you decided to look for work elsewhere, and with three job interviews lined up for today you had high hopes your money troubles would soon pass. Fixing your hat in place, you pushed a small pin into the side firmly securing it from any gusts of wind that threatened to blow it over. With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror you turned around, the smile on your face dropping and a scowl quickly replacing it at the sight of the growing flower garden currently occupying every surface of your bedsit. Seven bouquets of flower for each day you had been back, each with their own card hand written to you from Tommy himself. Fuck sake. Gaudy, flashy, over the top. Not like the beautiful posy of meadow flowers he would spend time picking for you on your birthday. You thought to yourself as you glared at them opening your front door only to be met with another ridiculously large bouquet in your face.

" 'Scuse me Mam" the young boy said as he stepped back. " Delivery from Mr Shelby"

" Jesus fucking Christ" you mumbled under you breath. You had no space for them as was frankly getting fed up with his pitiful gestures. After the relentless messages he had left you it was time to send him one final of your own so he understood exactly what your thoughts were on his grand displays of love. Pulling the card out from within the bouquet of red roses you scoffed at the message before reading it aloud.

" Roses are red..." you said without finishing the rest of the card before ripping it up and placing it back within the flowers as the young boy shuffled on his feet, his eyes quickly darting away. " Send them back Archie" you said with a huff as you shut your door.

" But Mr Shelby he..." the young boy replied nervously before you stopped him.

" Archie it's alright" You said bending down to his level as you placed your hand on his shoulder " Don't you worry about Mr Shelby, he won't do a thing. The only person he will get angry at is himself after his brothers tease him about this, alright?" You smiled as he nodded his head in reply. "Send them back at noon when Arthur and John will be there. We can't let them miss out on the opportunity to get one over on him can we?" you giggled as the young boys muddy cheeks dimpled into a grin. " Go on" you said handing him a penny, winking to him as he ran to the stairs, jumping down the rickety wooden steps two at a time. That will keep him at bay, you thought to yourself as you too headed down the steps jumping off the last one, your mood suddenly brightened again. Little did you know your scheme to keep Tommy away would only backfire when the result of another stupid idea Tommy had concocted to get your attention was about to play out.

" What do you mean the position has been filled?" You asked as you stood in front of the manager of the postal office, having only just arrived for your final job interview that day.

" Sorry Mam. The Position was filled this morning" he replied clearing his throat as he shuffled the papers in front of him.

" But it's only eleven thirty, I'm the first to be interviewed on the list" you pointed out to him at the paper on his desk. This was your last hope. The two previous interviews, well, lack of interviews were disastrous. One only lasted all but three minutes and the other place was shut before you even arrived.

" We erhh, we found someone yesterday" he said packing his documents into the draw as he quickly stood up taking the other pile of files sitting on the side.

" Yesterday was Sunday"

" Mam I'm sorry. I can't help you, the position has been filled" he said as he looked to the door not wanting to be asked any further questions.

" Shelby Company Limited" you scoffed, noticing the business card on top of the pile of documents in his hand. " He's been here hasn't he? Told you not to give me the job?" you huffed crossing your arms as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. Your heightened emotions never failing to show themselves at the most inconvenient of times.

" He said you already have a job, he was quite adamant about it. He..." the manager replied as you put your hand up, stopping him from making any more excuses for him.

" Save it " you said wiping your eyes as you turned on your heel, heading for the very man you knew was to blame not only for this failed job interview but the two others as well. Thomas fucking Shelby. Was this his way of getting you to talk to him, for him to see you? Well he was going to get just that, and five years worth of pent-up anger coming his way too.

(Part Six coming soon!)

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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!

[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.”

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