req :I saw Berserk in your tags, so assuming I'm assuming you write for it. I'd like to request either a headcanon or a scenario about Post Eclipse Guts and Griffith having become parents from a relationship pre-eclipse. Like their reactions, interactions with the child, etc. Thank you, bookie. 💖
pairing: Guts x Reader, Griffith x Reader
a/n: ive done your request but there is so many things i am not satisfied by. there's probably a lot of repetitive words and i deeply apologize, enjoy it nonetheless!
tags: hints of violence and manipulation in griffith's, angst to comfort, fluff,
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Guts wasn't one to soften his heart easily, he pushes away people and let people assume of him by his strength and how much of an arrogant man he is. He didn't bat an eye to people who try to cross him again and goes off to his own path to protect others from him.
He felt that he'd let his weakness slip when he had opened his heart to another person.
There was just something about the way you held the baby in your arms. You wonder what type of hell he'd been through to look at you that way. It was a haunting look not one of no emotion but weakness from the facade he had pulled away from.
"Guts?"
Your voice didn't reach him as he runs out the door. Understanding him will always be never ending, there will be more questions you utter than answers he can think of.
Erica holds your baby, her childlike innocence calling Guts such a bad guy for leaving you just like that and you could nothing but chuckle. The chuckle made your throat hurt from the tears that had started pouring down your ears, darting from the little girl's sight to wipe them away quickly.
Your hands extend to the teapot and look closely at the tea leaves that had dwindled down since the trees in these parts were dying to the fast winter that was approaching. It was quite silly worrying about Guts who was running out in this cold, he was a machine. A weapon that wont stop to anything in its path yet the nights of worrying about the sores he had on his feet, the splinters he had from trees he gathered back to home will always stick close to you.
"I have thick skin, don't worry too much."
That soft smirk he had when he wipes tears away from your eyes as the blood just won't stop flowing. Every scar that was stitched was remembered, it came from many brave battles that may have been a breeze for him but an impending ache to you.
Should you rush out the door after him, the wailing of your baby could be heard miles away. A fierce cry coming out from such a small body. All the pain of child birth would come rushing back into you, legs trembling when the throb shoots up your nerves. Oh and Erica who was so observant even if she held the tiny bundle of joy in one arm while stopping you with the other with a pout on her face.
"You don't need to go out for the tea leaves, Rickert keeps them in the second drawer near the dried fish."
You can't help but smile, such a sweet girl. Stepping away from the door, you trust Guts to return. He always does be it battles or training, clenching the necklace you wore, you've convinced yourself.
He will come back.
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The storm had particularly been rough tonight though it didn't wake you up but the anxiety had consumed you on why the baby had been silent. The bile in your throat rises up, whipping your head to the baby's cradle. praying that there was nothing wrong when you saw him.
Guts looked down at his baby, the part of his armour on his chest removed where he laid his child against. His hair was wet but he made sure to tilt back so the droplets don't touch what he was holding. His breathing was slow, the sound of the night drowning out in his ears when he focused on the breathing of the baby in his arms. The little bundle of joy nuzzles into his chest, soiled tank top warm enough for the trembling body of his little girl.
You didn't want to see his reaction, scared he will have the same look of horror from the first time he'd seen the baby. Fist clenching the sheets to try to hurriedly wipe the tears from your cheeks, you twitch when he turns towards you.
He holds up the little girl, a look of pure awe and serenity that made your shoulders droop from the tension.
"She has your eyes.."
He cradles him, running a hand through the short patch of hair on his head.
"She also has my hair.."
Coming from Guts was a smile that looked painful to muster but this baby was the best thing that could happen eversince everything. His finger toys with the spikiness of his child's head and you can't help but run to him. The sharp edges of his armour, the ones on his arms that wrap around you slightly pokes you but you couldn't care less.
His reaction was enough, calloused hand wrapping around yours as his eyes speak more to the fear in yours.
This was his baby, his soon to be pride and joy whom he'll fight for.
With you by his side.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
While he focused on his training, he easily brings back kills to feed you as you light up fire for the pot
He spoon feeds the grilled meat in your mouth while he takes the baby in his other hand. Even if you protest that you should hold the baby, he declines that offer
You were a hardworking parent without him and he wants to give his part too if possible, give himself whole for you
Everything was warm enough for you. He pulls that romantic stuff of blowing your hot food for you and you'd slap him playfully when his spit dribbles on to it
When it comes to sleep, he made sure to let you sleep. Ever since he came back, he looked at his baby with a look of longing. like he had lost so much time because of battles, missing the period where you had given birth to a new life.
He traced his fingers against the skin of the girl, she was quite plump. Guts was grateful that you had reside with Rickert and Erica, you look pale, the challenges of childbirth evident on your body but both of his dears healthy and untouched by any danger he had feared of
Small arms wrap around his hand, the swordsman knew he was a walking heater and caressed the little one's face. His palm on her cheek as she gurgles
This is one of the cases where Guts will give you never ending heart attacks when the sun had illuminated the room and his thick body resting down on the baby
You'd pound on his back to wake up, he was a beefcake so your punches barely register not until the baby started crying
"You idiot, you fell asleep on the baby!"
Rickert entered the room to see what the commotion is, he could only chuckle softly but before he asked the couple to tone it down, Erica pulled him out the door with all her might. Rickert nearly stumbled back against the short girl.
Erica shushed him excessively, clutching tea leaves in her hand.
"Shh! Don't bother them."
She huffs, letting go off Rickert's scarf and walked away to start a fire, blowing it a bit before wiping her cheek. That soft look in her eyes wary.
"I haven't seen Mx Y/n this loud before.. not since Guts came back."
Rickert understood the implication, his tense shoulders drooping as he listens to the rattle in the room. Y/n had been restless since the months Guts had been gone from war. Even if Erica had talked with them daily, there's so much a parent could worry about. He clenched his hand, it made sense. Sooner or later, Guts have to leave even if it looked like he won't.
That sword man's always had many things plaguing his mind but for now, he'll stay with his spouse and hold his partner close to his heart.
Griffith
Those sharp eyes look down at his child, sweat running down his face with a tissue lodged in his nose. He held a sword in his hand, one that was in his favourite colours and chattered in excitement on how he won his third fight with the older fighters.
Griffith's eyes slowly trail to the noise of your steps, you looked at your son with endearment but a hint of worry. He was barely bruised and his cuts were covered by bandaids, those eyes of his though were filled with the same fire just like his father's. You adjusted your son's collar to which his eyes follow, whining when you'd pull the ribbons too tight.
"Cmon, dont you want that puff pastry I baked this morning? If you get your teeth knocked out, you can't chew it!"
The little boy lights up to the sound of having a treat after a day of training, he really wanted to bite into something that was as rewarding as his parent's creation. He then runs home, slipping through your fingers to get that bite of pastry. You sigh, holding onto the boy's sword that dropped out of enthuasiasm. When you look back up, Griffith was staring straight at you, a look that sent a chill down your spine before he pulls away.
Unlike Guts, Griffith had already made his plans for his child.
He'll be strong, he'll fight like him but not become just like him
He let his son indulge in human activities like playing about, tasting all kinds of foods, giving him clothes warm and luxurious clothes. Things he weren't able to experience when he was a child
Scratching after scraps of food, the clothes on his back wet from grime and rain and his only childhood friend a sword amongst a pile of dead bodies wasn't something he wanted his child to ever go through
Even if he watches his son play in the garden, he doesn't feel like anything. He would be another weapon whom he can send off into war but he made it count for his creation, the spitting image of him should reign amongst everybody and step on the tombs of his once companions
He does engage in idle talk with his son, maintaining a connection with his creation in order to bring him over on his beliefs. He does find the benefit in attaching himself onto the little one's mind. It was obvious that his normal was completely different from his son, his stories full of sparks of colours while Griffith's was only red
Griffith's fingers occasionally comb through his son's, just what is mentioned prior is that he was a spitting image. It almost seemed like his genes had been more on the dominant side but what was different was the shape of his eyes and nothing more
Griffith smelled the fresh smell of baked goods being made, you had made a new batch instead of reheating the ones in the morning and heads inside. His home was lavish but due to your wishes on wanting to bake alone, the ones under him followed
He follows you and sits down, his hand caressing your face.
"Thank you for this, my love."
He kisses your hand before his son passed his father a piece of puff pastry, putting it on his plate. The dining table was quiet with the clinking of forks and knifes and soft laughter from both of his beloved. He didn't have to eat it, he didn't have to do all of this. He could even succeed without his family.
But maybe, this was a sense of normalcy he always wanted to feel when life was nearly stripped away from him.
Griffith and Guts turned uncaringly to look at [Name] and the young man beside her after she rudely interrupted the private conversation they were having in Griffith’s room. They didn't knock or anything before entering.
“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” Griffith said almost coldly, returning to resume his conversation with his close companion.
It had been two weeks since lunch with the Princess; he had not spoken to her since. He slyly went out of his way to avoid her. No one could tell that he was. Not even her at first. He started with no eye contact and direct greetings towards her. He was acknowledging her presence less and less. Something was wrong; this was a punishment. If she wouldn't stop with this attention-seeking behavior, then he was just not going to give her the attention she desired. So, then what would she do now? He guessed that it was this.
[Name] interrupted again, “Arthur is an excellent swordsman. I think he’d make a great addition to the band.”
Arthur stood at about 6’3” with messy brown hair that was only accentuated by his matching beard and rough demeanor. He had a bulky build which likely meant his sword was just as heavy and large, similar to Guts. A few battle scars were visible on his arms. Guts sized him up. Someone being titled as an excellent swordsman should be put to the test. He was sure to be a good sparring partner. He grinned wildly in excitement.
Griffith, on the other hand, laughed in his head. What was going on? What was this feeling festering in his heart? Jealousy, perhaps? Though there really wasn't anything to be innately jealous of. This thing she was doing was an obvious lie. Anyone with a brain could tell she didn’t know this man that well. That being said, did his arm have to be so tightly around her waist with a light hand caressing her stomach through the ivory tunic? It was a bit much from what he was making out from the corner of his eye.
Griffith turned to face the duo once again speaking callously, “I’m sure you are a fine swordsman Arthur, but the 100-Year War is over. I’m not looking for any new unkempt recruits.”
[Name] nuzzled her head against Arthur’s chest, whining like a child. “But isn’t there any way for you to make an exception? For me, Griffith? You haven’t even allowed him to display his swordsmanship!”
He placed his hand on his chin, pretending to think momentarily. “I’m afraid not. Guts will see him out now.”
Guts stepped forward, placing his hand on Arthur’s shoulder as he guided him to his way out by force, the door slamming shut behind them. Arthur had no choice but to release his hold on [Name]. She looked at Griffith once more, and she sensed something she had never before. Something dark. Another side she’d never got to know. Something was screaming at her to get out of there before it was too late. That look in his eyes behind the playful smile he was putting on...
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits.
I write to express my deepest gratitude for your courage and valor during the Autumn Hunt. You and Griffith's unwavering pursuit of me was crucial in preventing a terrible fate that may have befallen me.
I would be most honored if you would join me for a simple repast at my estate tomorrow at noon. We shall dine in the garden.
I would relish in the opportunity to converse with you further.”
Yours Most Sincerely,
Princess Charlotte of Midland”
A letter from the Princess herself graced his presence. [Name] wouldn't dare waste an opportunity to not only get away from her disgusting living chambers but to actually get well-acquainted with the Princess of the kingdom. Griffith’s attendance was also guaranteed, and she had something up her sleeve.
When she arrived, she was initially taken aback. Even though she had put on the most expensive velvet cotehardie she’d owned, she still felt severely outclassed. The garden was in a league of its own; a variety of blue and purple asters decorated the large expanse of neatly cut grass, and the bushes had been well maintained. A small extravagant feast of different finger foods, exotic cheese, and fresh fruit spread across a long rectangular table embellished by floral arrangements. Flowers were also used to decorate the back of the wooden chairs and the table they would dine at. Everything was grand, even for something as small as this.
A few hours had passed since the lunch started, and the trio had long finished eating. Most of the time [Name] answers a plethora of questions from Charlotte about being a woman of battle. The Princess found it both barbaric and admirable. Contrary to popular belief, [Name] held both a delightful and intellectual conversation. Griffith chimed in here or there, but for the most part, they were both enjoying each other's company so much to the point where they didn't pay him that much mind.
Griffith... That’s right. It was time to get back on track.
[Name] took another sip of her tea before speaking, “You know, Princess, I was thinking about getting a pearl necklace of my own. It wouldn’t be nearly as nice as the one you have on, of course. Wouldn’t one look nice on me, Commander?”
He was sitting directly across from her, Charlotte being in the middle of them. His response? A simple head nod.
Charlotte gleamed, “I’ll let you have mine if you show me the way a woman wields a sword! I’m interested in seeing how women do battle.”
Challenge accepted.
“I did not bring my sword with me today, Princess; however, my commander brought his. Believe me when I tell you, nobody can work Griffith’s sword like I can.”
All members of the Band knew that during their stay in Wyndham, they were to be on their best behavior. No exceptions. Anything that compromised the band, compromised his dream, and anyone who did would be dealt with accordingly. Charlotte was just some hopeless sheltered girl. She couldn’t possibly see past the face value of [Name]’s words. They weren’t for her to understand anyway, they were for him. She knew she was tempting fate, pushing her limits to its absolute maximum with Griffith. For now, the Princess started at Griffith, hopelessly innocent to the innuendos falling upon her ears.
He answered her silent ask, handing his delicate sword to [Name], hiding his temper behind a smile.
It was one thing to do whatever half-witted game she was she was playing amongst their shared comrades; it was another to do it in front of his ticket to his own kingdom. He just about had it with her. [Name] could feel that same cold aura from before radiating from him. Who knows what would happen if they were not in front of the Princess; but that was just another thought that had to wait. There was a pearl necklace on the line.
Skillfully, she sliced Griffith’s sword against the air with ease, expertly advancing forward, then quickly retreating back. The Princess watched in awe. Never had she imagined a female being able to wield a sword with the proficiency of a man. Charlotte was dazzled.
“That was magnificent, [Name]! I'm considering taking fencing lessons, should father allow, but maintaining my femininity is important to me.”
[Name] hummed, “If you’re worried about your femininity, perhaps the art of yielding a sword is not for you. After all, a woman can only go so long without a sword in her hands once she’s started.”
Charlotte looked to Griffith for words that opposed [Name]’s, but he seemed to be spaced out and in his head.
“You may be right. Perhaps a smaller blade would be more effective in that regard. What blade do you believe would suit me best?”
“Nothing less than seven inches.”
Clearing his throat, Griffith shot up from his chair, halting the conversation from proceeding any further. That was the last remark he could take. He placed his hand out for his sword, which [Name] gladly returned, before placing it in its scabbard.
“Milady, the sun is beginning to set. [Name] and I best be on our way now. Thank you again for a wondrous lunch.”
With no time for objections, Griffith settled his hand amongst her shoulder blade and began making his way out. She silently winced, when he squeezed hard enough to send a clear message – you overstepped. He led her to the barracks in a maddening silence, walking ahead of her the entire way, while she did her best to keep up with his pace.
are you going to continue the 10 things I hate about you? [Kano]?
Real question. Short answer: yes. I'm looking at the old document from when I wrote it and I'm not feeling the prompts I had. Unsure when a new chapter will be posted, but it's definitely on my mind.
Step 6: ‘Accidentally’ leave your door open while changing into sexy lingerie.
Within the halls of the royal palace, the female servants could be overheard whispering of a female armorer within Wyndham, that may or may not have been making chainmail sets that were far from modest. It was said that such chainmail could inspire sinful thoughts, and would almost certainly lead to the imprisonment or execution of both the armorer and customer. And for something as sinister as that, [Name] had to check it out.
With a bit of digging, [Name] had managed to find the armorer’s whereabouts. As expected of owning a piece this dangerous, it came at an exorbitant price—a price she didn't mind paying after seeing the piece in person. It was sure to produce results.
Standing in front of her small hand mirror, [Name] struggled to tie the back of the chainmail bralette. She was in a rush, fumbling with the leather strings in her hands, attempting to tie it neither loose nor tight. Griffith would come looking for her soon.
It was another Sunday in the barracks, and dinner had begun 10 minutes ago. Being a part of the small group of people close to Griffith, she knew someone from within it would come up to her room looking for her. And [Name] was betting it all on that person being him. A risky gamble with her door wide open in risqué attire.
“[Name], are you alr-” The voice had stopped speaking mid-sentence at the sight before him.
Bingo.
She had just finished tying the strings, her back facing the door, but she’d recognize that majestic voice from anywhere. [Name] quickly snapped her body around to see the white-haired man in her doorway. The way he stared at her with the piercing icy blue gaze of a hawk hunting its prey. The room fell cold, a chill going down her spine when her eyes locked with his. She pushed past that feeling and took a few steps closer to him.
“Griffith,” she beamed. “Just the man I wanted to see! What do you think about my new chainmail armor?”
He examined her discretely, in a way that wouldn't give off he was looking more into her than he probably should’ve. She was bare underneath the chainmail. The bralette did cover her breasts but did virtually nothing to cover her areolas. A single nipple had managed to slip through one of the holes in the chainmail. The “skirt” hugging sinisterly low on her waist was just two long pieces of chainmail that covered her from the front and back. They were tied together only by a single leather string on both sides of her hips. The string was intertwined between the mail so that there were two wide slits on either side of her waist and legs. Honestly, she was showing enough skin for even Corkus to pass out. It fit her young lean physique that she’d gain from battle so well.
“It’s fine.”, he said plainly. “But where’s the rest of it?”
She ignored the latter, index fingers running along the sides of the mail that touched her skin.
“Really? You don’t think it makes me look big?”
Of course not, and if it were up to him, he’d make an example of what happens to girls who wear these kinds of things. His self-control was beginning to erode away with each step; unbeknownst to him. [Name] was the water against the stone. Griffith was patient, but that patience was starting to wither away to the urges of a man. She was something obviously trying to intrude upon his dream; a needless distraction.
“Honestly, I find it unbecoming. No one will take you seriously on the battlefield if you’re parading around on a horse looking like a harlot.”
Griffith began making his way back down the hall, leaving her a stunned and flustered mess.
“C-Commander! I-”
“Hurry and put on something more appropriate for dinner. Don’t keep me and your comrades waiting any longer.”
A/N: Hey, hey, hey! It's been a while! Almost 3 years to be exact! Not exactly what I had in mind when I initially started this series...but here we are now! A lot has happened, and while I'm not going to say I'm BACK; I am going to say that I am finishing posting this series. They'll be posted throughout the next few days until this series is complete at 5:30 PM EST, minus Step 10. That'll take a bit for me to finish, but I'll have something by the end of this month. Thank you to everyone who waited religiously for the next installment. I've seen all of the requests and comments. I'm grateful and filled with love. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy.
Step Five: Torture him while eating.
[Name] had always considered herself a fast learner. When she came across this step, she wanted to try something different. Easily she could've suckled a banana as if it was some phallic item, but that was both obvious and too forward. She’d gone to Judeau again for advice with nothing else in mind.
“I don’t know. You could always try tying a cherry stem with your tongue if you think a banana is too much. I hear it’s hard to do, but the acrobat at my circus was a pro.”
And indeed, it was hard to do. She committed to teaching herself until she got it down perfectly. It took a lot of effort, but she’d manage to get in a few days.
Picking a cherry out of her basket full of fruits, she plopped the red bulb into her mouth, enjoying the juices of the fruit until all she left was the stem. [Name] eyed Griffith from above the balcony of the courtyard. He was busy talking amongst Guts, Judeau, and Rickert. It was time.
Smiling, she called out to him, “Commander! Look what I can do!”
The group of men looked up to face her, watching as she made her way down the stairs. When she met them, she was out of breath. They all looked at her, inquisitively.
Griffith was the first to speak, “Yes? What is it, [Name]?”
“Look.”
Without further ado, she placed the red stem in her mouth, closed it, and then twisted and tied the stem with her tongue.
Guts and Griffith quirked an eyebrow.
“[Name]”, Rickert started, staring at her, just as confused as curious as the rest. “What are you doing?”
[Name] said nothing, too preoccupied and focused on wrestling the stem around. Twisting, turning, looping before finally...
“Done!”
There the young swordswoman stood proudly, extending her hand to the group to show off the perfectly tied knot on the stem. A light blush formed on Guts’s speechless face, and Judeau’s hand shot up to quickly cover Rickert’s eyes. Judeau was a bit surprised that she managed to pull it off, but also a little proud.
“Hey! What’s going on!? I wanted to see!”, he screamed, fighting with Judeau to uncover his eyes.
Griffith’s features turned into a light playful smile, hiding the fact that another small crack had formed in his composure.
“Very impressive, [Name]. One can only wonder what other secret talents you have yet to show me.”
“You’ll have to wait and see, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Ayuda soy de Perú tal vez no entiendas por qué no es tu idioma de origen el español pero llegué acá por la historias de Como sacar sangre de una piedra me quedé en cap 4 y me encanta como escribes enserio porfavor te doy mis órganos escribe más sobre griffth alimentas mi esquizofrenia
Queen! I had to use Google translate for this! But I am WORKING on it! I have the outline written out. It's just about actually putting the story together now! Let me grab my book and write some more. Ilysm! You can keep your organs!
Alright then! May I have a smut scenario where s/o is in a relationship with Guts, but often finds herself in her Commander's tent in the late hours of the night? While she has always been sort of Griffith's personal concubine, she's aware that that is all she would ever be to him. Moving on with Guts was supposed to be for herself and chance to find new love. Griffith publicly approves of their relationship, but he, as everyone knows, is incredibly selfish and has a hard time letting things and people that he considers HIS go. So he secretly calls her back to his tent to have what is rightfully his, and constantly reminds her of that. Casca is aware, and just sort of gives you nasty looks filled with judgement. And of course, s/o is conflicted within herself. On one hand, she loves and adores her new love, Guts, and on the other, her heart is conflicted with the love she once had for her Commander.
WHEW THAT WAS LONG! MIGHT WRITE THIS MYSELF. Anyways just a thought! Thx!
The perfect contrast (Griffith x Reader)
Thanks for this request! I had fun writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it.
Warnings: Dubious consent, infidelity, Griffith being Griffith
Casca looked at you from afar with that look she always gave you: judgmental. You deserved it, clearly. You were being a traitor. But, in your defense, you didn't know how to get out of it and you considered that it was too late for that. They were two men who could be the perfect contrast: Guts was attracted to something about you, something he didn't know, but that made you interesting to him and Griffith… well, he was attracted to your body. Your body, your skin and maybe your moans. But nothing more. And you knew it. But your history with him had been intense enough to have left your skin marked with his kisses and it was difficult to forget. Difficult because maybe it was impossible, because you knew that he was completely unattainable for you, but when he was on top of you, you felt like he was yours. You were completely a traitor by accepting that he was unforgettable.
However, there was Guts, a man with whom you could live a love story… a difficult story, of course. But one that could work. And he gave you what no one had ever given you and that made him special, but Griffith kept going and going with his distant gaze and his happy face. Happy for the two of you. For a moment you decided to forget him, because he had accepted the relationship between the two of you and remained completely neutral about it. Then, you knew that you were nothing to him.
So, the best thing was always to try to forget.
However, inside Griffith a strange feeling was growing, one that he didn't expect to feel. It was the complete feeling that someone was taking something from him, something that he might want. A possessive feeling. He didn't like it, clearly. Because you were just one more, one more of all the others. But even he knew what belonged to him.
And you, deep down, expected this too.
Even though in public you tried not to look him in the eyes, keeping your gaze down so that he wouldn't pierce you with his clear eyes. Still, you felt that he did. An innocent, but fixed look, that had a dark intention behind it. You knew it, that part of him that went beyond his seemingly passive exterior.
It gave you chills all over your body and suddenly you could feel his kisses on your body again. It felt like it was real. You could see a hint of mockery in his gaze, because he knew it. He knew what he still did to you. Afterwards, he continued talking to Guts.
And they ignored you. While you dealt with your emotions.
One day, at night, you received a call from him. You needed to think that it was for something else and not to relive the passionate moments in the tent. But you had to go, you knew it. You went quickly hoping to finish quickly. Big mistake. You walked in and saw him. He was sitting and once you were there, his eyes landed on you and you felt them go deep inside you. He had you. And you both knew it. However, you couldn’t lose that easily.
“What’s wrong?” You asked him
He simply kissed you, not saying anything else. A dominant kiss, maybe a little needy. But you didn’t let him. This wasn’t right, you tried to push him away by pushing him away with both hands.
He pulled away.
“What are you doing?” You told him, shaking your head
But there was nothing else to say. He didn’t have to lie to you, he didn’t have to sugarcoat things either. You both knew that you were his, that what your body felt every time he looked at you couldn’t be hidden. It was the possessiveness of a selfish man, of a man who knew what he could get.
Your legs shook. It had been quite a while since you had stared at him like that, alone, in the tent in the dark. With no one else watching. Images came to you, of those nights together and it was inevitable for you to think that if he kissed you again you could refuse. And that was being a traitor. But when he kissed you again and took off your clothes with ease, you simply stopped thinking about everything else. And you knew that would be a grave mistake.
Anyway, he was already on top of you, kissing your neck being careful not to leave marks. He felt limited, he remembered that he loved leaving marks on your body before Guts arrived. You were his, you belonged to him. You weren't just another member, you were his lover. He could call you whenever he wanted. That's how it was supposed to work.
You didn't understand how he controlled you like that, you could only think about the way your bodies came together and your legs tangled together along with the blankets.
His mouth was perfectly skilled and he went down licking all over your body.
“I can't do this” You said between gasps.
Griffith just smiled. And you couldn't deny that your heart didn't shrink. He was incredibly attractive and even more so when he had put his head between your legs. He gave you some unusually tender kisses between your thighs.
You leaned your head back, surrendered.
“You've always belonged to me” He said, while you felt his lips on your thighs, getting dangerously close to your center.
You closed your eyes, sinfully enjoying the sensation of his tongue, forgetting that your clothes were lying somewhere in the tent and you were naked in front of him, like before. You covered your mouth with your forearm, silencing the noises you could make.
Once you felt that pleasurable and painful sensation build up in your stomach, you knew that the end would come. The end and the conscience.
But no, he couldn't be satisfied. He never was.
You had accepted fate, because you knew that you couldn't say no to him. He positioned himself over you. A smile threatened to creep up from the corner of your mouth. You looked away.
“Do it already,” you told him, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.
It wasn’t the tone he was used to, but he understood the difference. Once he entered you, you closed your eyes, you couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t know that you were enjoying it.
However, he grabbed your chin tightly and forced you to look at him. It was a silent demand, but clear. So you opened them. You saw his eyes and you lost yourself in them like the first time. He kissed you passionately and as he moved you could hold back the moans in his mouth.
He was being rough now, he didn’t hold back, he liked that about you. He didn’t have to treat you like you were soft all the time. You were like some kind of concubine, but you couldn’t deny that it had never felt so good.
Your foreheads came together and if he were someone else you could swear there was a hint of romance there.
But he was Griffith.
Once you had gotten your release and he was done. You lay there in his tent ignoring your clothes as guilt washed over your body. You were still in the grip of your orgasm with your heart pounding as he dressed and admired your naked body.
But you didn't say anything anymore. The mistake had been made. Your feelings were mixed at the moment and you couldn't think straight.
Griffith just kept looking at you knowing that your own quickened breaths were a clear display of his power and ownership over you.
From JJK? Obviously, Gojo. But then, out of nowhere, Nanami just came and grabbed my hair and said I needed to give him attention too. And don't get me started on Toji. I just need one night in a room with all three of them. And when I tell you, until the room stanks? I mean UNTIL IT STANKS!
annaxmalina
snowghoul
blakekathryn
gummygunk
kaledo-art
theartofmadeline
