Beta by jojolightningfingers (tumblr) whom I thank very much for the help:)
Griffith is the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. Many lived years, countless dismembered corpses, countless people he has fucked, some attractive some not... but Zodd's blood had never boiled quite like this… like it did now, when the Incarnated Angel rested in silence above him.
Griffith, who was bare from head to toe, whose hands held onto Zodd's inky fur as he flew them above both water and land. He inhaled sharply when nails buried in his shoulder. Not long after, the sun still high in the sky, the Angel wished to land. In the middle of nowhere, on top of a mountain where the wind cut like a soldier's sword. Zodd discarded his Apostle form and watched Griffith as the Angel watched the horizon. Milky skin and inviting curves, white hair resembling a halo around his head. Perfection. Then he took notice of the bleeding cut on Griffith's left thigh.
"You're bleeding," he repeated the information, masking the thrill invoked by such an image.
A wounded God for his eyes only.
Griffith now faced him and Zodd's gaze traveled up, glued to that pretty face, to those shiny pink lips that parted as he spoke.
"Yes I am. I must have cut myself on the edge of your horn some time during our journey. It'll heal."
Zodd hummed low in his throat and the matter would have been abandoned if not for the Angel's calculated look. Pretty blue eyes that knew. He knew how desperately Zodd ached… for a touch… for a taste of this miracle. This Angel was merciful and offered more, though it was Zodd who made the first step, him who uttered that seemingly innocent phrase.
"I'm no healer, but we should get rid of the blood before it dries."
"We should," Griffith echoed, but made no move to do so.
Fighting a smirk, Zodd neared, towering over his God, his child God, so tiny, so perfect, so absolutely ravishing, begging to be torn to shreds. His fingers grazed the exposed flesh before enveloping Griffith's whole thigh in his palm. Tiny, tiny, tiny. Both sharply inhaled and Zodd did what he craved most, kneeling, lapping at the wound, twisting his tongue around it, licking the blood, staining his lips. Every gasp escaping Griffith was heat around his aching cock, forgotten for now. When his mouth traveled higher, hands settled on his shoulders. Not pushing away, not encouraging, just there. Enough to make Zodd crave devouring him.
Yes, many dead souls had accused him of wanting too much.
Then Griffith changed the game, stepping away. Zodd tilted his head, observing. Not a refusal... yet what? The… boy, yes the boy, this magnificent boy smothered the white hair away from his face before simply lying back at Zodd's feet and, like a well-versed whore, spreading his legs. Zodd growled and crawled over him. This time it was Griffith who smirked.
"How bad do you want me?" the newly reborn Angel voiced as his slender thighs wrapped around Zodd's bulky frame, tempting.
In response he rocked his massive length against Griffith's opening. Again and again, hands pressing that body down, keeping him there, nibbling at his neck to the point of pain.
"How bad do you want my cock inside you?" Zodd laughed in return, twisting Griffith's hair around his hand, like a rope, then pulling. "Enough to present yourself like a common whore? Like a human bitch? Perhaps I'll make you swallow my cock someday. I bet you'll enjoy that..."
Griffith's needy moans and dilated pupils offered more answers than any words. If anyone else were before him Zodd would have already put that mouth to good use, fucking his or her throat until they beg for no more… only then would the real fucking have started. But pretty Griffith… only the look on the boy's face would have made him spill inside that pink mouth… like an unseasoned human. No no no, Zodd desired to see his cum spill from other parts of Griffith's anatomy.
"Eyes on me," he ordered as he worked between the boy's legs, tugging on the white hair. Zodd had to physically hold Griffith down when he pushed his tongue into the rosy opening, not wasting time in pushing a finger alongside it, deep inside, scratching at the inner walls with his blunt nails.
Griffith arched his back, legs shaking like a leaf in response to the sudden intrusion.
"If you're crying out from just my finger, imagine how my cock will feel."
Zodd knew one digit of his was as wide as a human's cock. Griffith knew it too, gasping as one finger after another thrust inside. Then a whole palm until tears left the corner of his blue eyes. In a peculiar moment of tenderness, one hand buried into Griffith's heat, Zodd let go of his hair and reached up, tasting the saltiness of his cheeks before pressing kisses on each side of his face. Yes, Griffith truly was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Pretty enough to make Zodd want to bruise his mouth with his own. So he did, prompting those lips to open for his tongue. Griffith moaned like a bitch in heat, begging for more, whimpering when Zodd's hand deserted his insides.
Zood took a deep breath, folding the newly reborn Angel in half. Rosy cheeks fresh with tears, gasping mouth, trembling limbs, hair scattered all over the green grass… how could anyone not fall down at this being's blessed feet? How could anyone not want him?
Without a warning, he buried himself in and Griffith sobbed. Zodd stilled his hips, watching in fascination as Griffith's tiny hole stretched around his massive girth.
"Fucking hell," he cursed, his control snapping.
He fucked Griffith harder than anyone before, knowing his immortal body could take it, listening to his cries, watching his face, watching his own cock slipping inside this tiny body over and over again. Griffith was a doll compared to him, a pretty little doll wordlessly begging for Zodd's cock, begging to be fucked like a common whore. How could anyone not want him?
When he urged Griffith on his hands and knees Zodd pushed the boy's upper body down to the ground, reaching for that mass of white hair. After Griffith became king, Zodd desired to have him just like this…. with a shiny golden crown on top of his head. Impaling the petite boy, he laughed into Griffith's shoulder as the fifth Angel came. With a sigh and a shudder, the boy rolled them over, him above, rolling those damn hips. Yes, a bitch in heat. A child-looking creature riding Zodd, taking every thrust, trembling hands feeling Zodd's muscles.
"Fucking whore."
He raised his hips one more time before he spilled himself inside the fifth Angel. Then… it became heavy. Their breathing, their locked gazes, resisting the urge to pull the petite body to his chest, the absurd need to stroke that messy hair away from his face. Griffith made him feel the strangest things.
"Why allow this?" Zodd asked as the heat of Griffith's body left his length and the disheveled God stood, braiding his sweaty hair at the base of his head.
"You could say I craved physical contact for a long, long time." Azure eyes found his. "Shall we go? It'll snow soon enough."
Zodd watched his come-filled ass and wondered if the human boy, the relentless one, Guts… had Guts ever touched this? Ever fucked this beauty? Perhaps he'll ask if fate made them meet again.
Until then, Griffith desired to ride him for the third time that day. Zodd ached to tell the human all about it.