𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕕 // Guts x reader (+18)

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟠 | 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

A week and eight hours later drained in sweat you are ready. Ready enough to survive for some time.
There are still some filled boxes in your room but that's just unnecessary stuff.

Guts didn't tell you much about this place and its surroundings. He just gave you the keys to the flat and the basement as well as the house rules. Simple rules like not turning up music past midnight and not dumbing trash in the hallway.

During the whole moving time Guts kept his promise by being absent. You start to consider that this isn't his only apartment. Why else could he just stay away for days without needing to come back for a new pair of shorts or sum?

You sigh deeply and wipe the sweat off your forehead. You really need a shower. What a good thing you don't have to leave your room for it. To have a private bathroom really is a reason to pay almost 2k for an apartment. And not only is it a shower but one in a bathtub. Bathing does sound more convincing.

With a final look into your new room you peel your clothes off of your body and disappear into the bathroom.

***

Fifty minutes later you emerge in your room again with fresh, reddish, steaming skin. In the end the hunger forced you out of the hot water.

Time to explore the kitchen!
With a big smile you put on comfy clothes and brush your hair.
However your enthusiasm flattens before you even leave your room.
All you brought here was a pack of flour, baking soda, eggs and fruits. Nothing that will feed you. So you more or less need to order something tonight and run errands tomorrow. There won't be anything in the kitchen you can look forward to at this point.

With sagging shoulders you sit down on your bed. Then you scroll through your phone to find something nice nearby. To your surprise there's a lot around. Most of it is overpriced which is not too abnormal if you think about the building you live in. The whole neighborhood is expensive as fuck.

After ten minutes of searching you decide to order an avocado bowl with tuna, mayonnaise, edamame and mango. You grin to yourself at the thought of the food. It's a miracle how food influences your mood. You're not a gourmet but you do love good food. Especially food from other countries.
Not that you have to save money ...

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings. The first thing you did when moving in was to add your name to the doorbell in case you ... ordered food. You know yourself and your liking of delicious food well enough.

Excitedly you leave your room to get to the door. You press the buzzer for the front door and slip into your shoes. Then you sprint down the staircase, almost losing your money on the way and rip open the door. The delivery guy looks wide eyed at you as you shove the money into his hands and close the door the second you laid hands on your food.

Happy like a child who just got candy you return upstairs, scrape your shoes and settle on the couch with a satisfied sigh.
You unbox your food and look at the wonderful creation. Yep, bowls definitely are a nice investment.
You are about to dig into your food when the door to Guts' room opens.

The man appears in the doorway and looks breathtaking. Black joggers and a black, sleeveless shirt. You tell yourself that Guts wants you to stare at his muscular arms that could chain you to the wall next to him forever.

"What are you doing here?", you stutter utterly perplexed to see him home.

Guts lazily walks past you heading for the kitchen.
"I live here", he answers bluntly and with lack of any emotion.

Yeah right. Your cheeks flush.

"I'm sorry. If I had known you'd be home I would have ordered something for you, too", you say with earnest guilt.

Guts doesn't even look at you when he answers.
"I've got food, thanks."

Then he's gone. You shrug your shoulders and turn your attention back to your food. Although you sat in front of the TV to watch something while eating you can't wait.
You finish your bowl in an instant.

With a filled tummy you can think straight again. Remember your current state, your financial situation.

"Guts?", you shout towards the kitchen.

A grunt is his response.
Can't he just come out of there?

"Do you know a bar nearby?"

Now there's silence. Then you hear a chair moving and heavy steps. A moment later Guts stands in the living room arms crossed and frowning.

"If you throw up in here I'll kick you out. If you bring guys in here at night or drunk I'll kick you out. If you destroy anything because you're drunk or lose your keys I'll kick you out. If you do anything stupid because you're drunk, I'll kick you out", Guts warns with a tone that forces you to to lower your eyes in submission.

Damn. What's wrong with him?

But there's one thing you have to keep in mind. Although he is way too strict he can't know what you're up to. You're a complete stranger to him, too.

"I don't want to drink there, silly. I want to work. Preferably at a bar close by. Thought you might know something", you explain yourself calmly.
However moody Guts might be you don't want him to be your enemy.

Guts' expression lights up a little which takes a load off your mind.
"The name's Sir Williams", he replies.

What a strange name for a bar.

"Alright, thanks."
You smile broadly to make sure Guts doesn't see you as a threat to his peace.

Guts disappears into the kitchen again to do whatever kind of stuff. Meanwhile your gaze is glued to his shifting shoulder muscles.
As you don't expect an actual answer you just decide that it's okay if you block the TV for tonight.

You skip through the program and end up with a movie of your favorite genre.

At some point Guts returns to his room. He doesn't wish you a good night or tells you if he'll be here tomorrow, whether he needs something from you and so on.
You start to think that it's gonna be exhausting to live with him. Perhaps the first impression was false.

But now there's no turning back. If Guts doesn't dwell here most of the time anyway it's gonna be alright to have him around every couple days. On top of that he most likely won't annoy you. To be honest it could be a lot worse. You should be grateful to live here.
And tomorrow you'll check out Sir Williams.