#and it's nice screaming into the void | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gfguren · 2 years ago

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fae!shikamaru x (fem) reader | an ENTIRELY self indulgent fic, fantasy!au, shameless smut | cw: mentions of hypothermia, degradation, manipulation?, shikamaru is an ass

-fae!shikamaru takes a liking to you-

part 1 | part 2

The fireflies danced through the trees and it would have been beautiful, had you been a fool. And maybe still, if the chill of the night hadn't crawled up your spine to wrap around your throat, you'd not have fallen victim to the illusions of the forest. You knew better than to follow the little light twirling around your being and past the old wood, so innocent - and so very very deadly.

The sun disappears and the forest nymph looks to the sky, eyes of seafoam and emerald lingering on the moon peeking over the quickly fading sunset. "You've stayed too long." When he turns his gaze on you once more, he wears a worried expression, one of the violets in his hair falling softly to ground. "I need not remind you to avoid the wisps, do I?"

You smile though you feel your heart in your throat. "Follow the violets til the very last tree. Do not stray, and close my eyes if I must. And never, ever, follow the light." You eye the pretty forest guardian with his wily red hair, you've always wondered how not a single strand looked out of place, messy as it is. "Right?"

You repeat his mantra, you've heard it a hundred times. With a light nod, he tucks the fallen flower behind your ear. "Do not forget it. I would surely miss your company."

"Don't worry, Gaara. I have too many stories to tell to disappear now."

"The forest cares not for your stories, be cautious." As stoic as ever, one day you'll get him to laugh - he'll have the prettiest smile, you muse, perhaps the wildflowers will come to life, braving the biting November breeze to catch a glimpse of his beauty. "Now go, before the fae begin to wander."

So you do, feet mapping every last violet until the final beam of light kisses your skin, wishing you a warm goodnight and disappearing behind the horizon. The moon is high overhead before you feel the first trickle of dread.

You should be home by now, tucked beneath that plush yellow quilt, hand sewn by your doting mother. Is she worried about you right now, sitting by the fireplace with your little sister in her arms, waiting for her oldest to return? You wonder when, if you'll even return, what with the forest's end seemingly getting further and further away.

The thought chills you to the bone.

And when the lights come to life, appearing before you like reflections of the stars in the sky, your knees go weak. Gaara's words echo in your mind and you're quick to shut your eyes, wringing your fingers together as if that'll quell your shaking palms. "Just follow the violets." Your breath departs in a silver mist.

When had it grown so cold?

Your eyes open once more and you're startled at the stark nothingness before you. The violet path you'd trekked a hundred times is - gone.

How could it be gone just like that? You'd followed the blooming petals all the way to the forest nymphs' spring just this morning.

You take a step backwards, jumping at the crunch echoing through the forest. You lift the heel of your boot to find the remnants of a once purple flower, turned brown and crisp. They're wilted - dead.

It's then that you realize the chatter of the forest has ceased; the trees have gone still, the owls no longer cry, every last woodland creatures has stopped skittering to and from, and Gaara's flowers have wilted right under your feet. As if life itself has fled from the forest.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so desperate, when you know better than to follow that twinkling light. But the cold suffocates you in its icy hold, numbing your fingers and forcing you forward despite your hesitation.

How can something so pretty be so dangerous anyway? It has to be better than freezing to death.

Right?

The light flickers past the trees and you try your best to follow, careful not to trip on the overgrowth of roots. It speeds up and you begin to wonder if it's guiding you, or running from the deathly cold forest behind you. You don't know which is worse.

Suddenly it disappears like candlelight, and you can almost swear you hear a breath of laughter on the breeze that extinguishes it. You choke on the panic rising in your throat - now what?

Ahead of you is a thick mass of forest, trees taller than you thought they could grow, and it's then that you feel the chill wrap around you in a threatening embrace, daring you to linger a moment longer. One foot forward, you venture closer, trekking carefully over the massive roots and dead leaves. Second thoughts skirt the edge of your conscious but the cold creeps up your spine and you press further.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you." A voice muses from behind you and you jump, whipping around to face the mysterious stranger. He's a shadow in the distance, arms crossed and head down as he leans against a tree. "That is, if you're goal wasn't to be eaten by the forest."

You think you hear him chuckle and the tears prick your eyes. "Do you-" your mouth suddenly grows dry. "Do you know the way out?"

He shrugs, and you swear you see the hint of a smirk twisting in the darkness. "Maybe." Your eyes light up until he finishes with a nonchalant, "or maybe not."

You desperately make your way to him, caution and reserve be damned. "Please tell me. I need to get home, I-"

"What's in it for me?" Your eyes meet his and it's only then that you see the strange hue swirling in the abyss he calls irises and the shadow of two wings cast over the trees behind him. Your blood runs cold.

A faerie.

Your gaze falls to the ground, the toe of your boot an inch away from the circle of mushrooms surrounding him. "You- you're-"

"I- I'm-" He mocks, head tilting to the side as he pushes off the tree and draws near, though he doesn't cross the threshold. It's not until you turn on your heel, intent on running as far away as your feet can take you that he speaks once more. "So you've figured the way out all on your own? Are you confident the forest won't swallow you whole?"

"I'm less confident that you won't," you breath, frozen fingers balled at your sides.

His laughs in a bemused sort of way that's both beautiful and frightening and the duality sends your heart skittering away like a frightened rabbit. "Maybe I was wrong. You do have a brain in that pretty head of yours." He rustles behind you and you dare to peek over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of him leaning forward, toeing at the barrier between your bodies. "So why don't you use it and realize you don't have a chance in this forest. Not on your own."

He crosses his arms, continuing. "And who knows? It could be fun. Don't you like a bit of a gamble?"

"Not when it's with my life, thank you very much."

"How boring." He shrugs, plopping down on the grass with his arms crossed. "I'll enjoy the show then. I wonder, will you freeze to death or will the forest eat you up? My bet is on the latter."

You should walk away, take your chances with the forest, and you know it. But you've lost the feeling in your toes, and you're sure your lips are turning blue. "What is it you want from me?"

"Oh, not much." He rises once more, hands clasped behind his back and a wicked smile on his face. "Why don't we start with your name?"

You outright laugh. "I'd rather be eaten by the trees."

"It was worth a shot," he hums. "I didn't think it would be easy, not with that nosy forest nymph telling you all our secrets."

"How did you-"

"Do you not hear the forest whispering?" he muses, laughing at the confusion sweeping your face. "Oh right, of course not. You're only human after all."

His contempt is biting but doesn't seem genuine, strangely enough.

He crosses the threshold like a breath of cold air whipping past your face, and circles your shivering form. You think you feel his fingers dance past your shoulder, before his lips are at your ear. "Why don't you come play with me for a little while? I hear you tell magnificent stories."

You force down the fear crawling up your throat and instead choke out a mocking and embittered, "What's in it for me?"

You feel his smirk against your cheek, clearly entertained by your gall. He takes a step back, once more encircled in mushrooms and when you turn to face him, his hand is extended, tantalizingly. "I know of someplace warm."

Shikamaru - that's the name he gave you, though you didn't think for a second it was truly his; you knew such things held power over the fae, and he certainly didn’t seem foolish enough to simply offer it to a stranger. But he also wasn't as scary as you'd thought - if anything he was hospitable, a good listener, perhaps a bit obstinate at times but amicable nonetheless. And handsome, annoyingly so, with a sharp jawline and a pretty smile to boot.

He was true to his word too - took you to a place warm and soft and entirely fantastical, with oddly plush sheets and overgrown flora that glowed with beautiful and ominous light. He served you the ripest fruit and the finest wine and only asked for your stories in return.

It seemed as if you’d spent an eternity together, though you’re not sure how much time had truly passed; the world is a perpetual state of twilight and sometimes your mind is clouded in a hazy sort of way that makes it hard to discern or remember anything at all really. It could have been days, months, years even.

So you make sure to cling to two things in this strange, hazy world.

Firstly, the memory of your mother who you're sure is waiting, waiting still - and that you miss her fiercely. Secondly, the knowledge that Shikamaru is dangerous. No matter how badly you want to believe that his intentions hold no deceit or ill will, he is a faerie after all, and by nature you can't take all his words for truths, or fall perilously into him - for him. As tempting as it is.

It's especially tempting in this very moment, with the stars twinkling so brightly against the dusty pink sky and the faerie sitting beside you, reciting the story of each constellation with such deep and profound knowledge. You hang onto each word that falls, falls, falls from his lips and you fall, too. Faster than you can catch yourself.

Sharp eyes meet yours, drawing you in like an abyss and beckoning you to abandon all your reservations and just jump. A knowing grin spreads across his face and he leans in until his hot breath is fanning past your lips. "Snap out of it, gullible human, before I take it as an invitation."

The haze lifts and you shrink back in embarrassment. He only chuckles, turning away to lift the intricately carved pipe from his lap and breathe in deep. "Still haven't grown accustomed to this place, I see."

"Did you expect me to?"

"Not really." He breathes out, a puff of smoke following, curling around itself like an ominous cloud. "Just disappointed."

An odd silence follows, one that's neither awkward nor comfortable, and in that silence is the question you've patiently waited to ask since he brought you to this odd, whimsical world, hanging precariously in limbo.

"What is it?" His words cut through the air like the fine edge of a sword and you startle. "Well?"

"It's just-" The faint memory of Gaara's heedings give you pause, careful not to offend him and sow the dangerous repercussions. "It’s nothing."

"I won't eat you alive, or whatever that annoying nymph whispered in your ear."

"Can you read my mind?" You seriously contemplate it for a moment, mortified by the implication.

"You're just predictable."

You pout, oddly insulted. "Oh yeah? Then what was I going to ask?"

He breathes in another puff of smoke, mood shifting into something darker, brooding, sad? "Beats me."

"Liar." You're voice is quiet, so quiet you hesitate to even call it a whisper, still he shoots you a side eyed glare that would have sent you fleeing had this been your first encounter; but you’ve spent several moons - or lack thereof, you suppose - by his side, and after all the stories, and meals, and wine you've shared, and all the nights you’ve spent beneath the same comforter and the same twinkling stars, you think you’ve began to understand him, trust him, even if just a little. "I was just wondering when I can return home, is all."

He sighs, as if he isn't surprised at all. "Are all humans as ungrateful as you?"

"Are all fae as stubborn as you?"

"You sure are bold, I'll give you that." He exhales, puffs of smoke greeting the air. "And rude, I nearly forgot that one."

You laugh, genuinely and he turns to face you, study you like you're the first thing he can't figure out. "You don't like it here? Have I not provided you with the finest amenities? Have I offended you in some way?"

You pull at the grass tickling your thighs. "Its not that."

He places his hand over your busy one. "Then stay."

You shake your head and turn to face him. "Shikamaru I-" His lips find yours and you freeze like startled deer, but it's certainly not because you don't like it - though he doesn't know that, slowly pulling away at your hesitance.

"Then it's me you don't like?"

You're slower to respond this time. You certainly don't dislike Shikamaru - though he gets on your nerves more often than not and nothing gets through that thick, but brilliant skull of his. The problem, you figure, is that you've never once considered liking the fae, even before Gaara's headings, as if the fear and distrust is engraved in your very bones. There's also the fact that he whisked you away from the only place you'd ever known, but you can't hate him for that, not when the alternative was freezing to death.

So you flirt with the idea, ruminate over the premise of Shikamaru being human, of meeting him in better, warmer circumstances, of telling stories and drinking beneath the moon from your boring, mundane world. And you think you might like him, quite a bit, in fact.

"No."

"No?"

You smile at his confusion, and for the first time, you find him cute. Which is a terrible realization because it makes you want to lean in and press your lips to his and - by the gods - why are you actually doing it?

He chuckles softly, setting the pipe aside and pulling you in by the back of your neck when you shyly try to back away. "Humans never finish what they start, huh?"

And his lips are on yours, with the fervor he wanted to kiss you with the first time; and it's magical and deep and lulls you into a haze deeper than the strange world around you - but you're not sure it's magic at all. You're just drunk on Shikamaru, and you want more, more, more until you're addicted and ruined and at the mercy of his whims.

"Wanted to do that," he groans, tongue mingling with yours. "Since the moment I saw you."

"The moment you saw me?"

"Mhm," his hand travels beneath the hem of your dress, wandering the expanse of your thigh and up to your hip, and when you don't pull away from his touch, further even. "Saw you with that forest nymph, in that pretty little dress. Wanted to see your eyes light up from up close when you tell me all your stories." His slender fingers dip beneath the cotton of your panties. "Wanted you to look at me, think of me, be so enamored with me that you didn't want to leave."

You whine, shuddering against him when he presses two fingers against your core, using your slick to rub circles against your clit. "Sh-Shikamaru." You breathe and he tenses before moving to trail kisses across your jaw.

"Mm, just like that. Wanted you to say my name, all breathless and cute."

"This is wrong, right?" You bury your head beneath his chin, hiding your burning cheeks. What would your mother think if she knew the things you were doing with this - this monster, as she called them, let alone your village; they'd send you to a monastery at best, and at worst, sacrifice you to the forest.

Oddly enough, Shikamaru comes to mind and that thought isn't as scary as it would have been once.

"You humans are so uptight." His free hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Do you like me?" You swallow hard, trying to turn away but he holds you steady; and he waits, waits until you nod, meek and slow. "Does this feel good?" He dips his fingers into the softness of your core, fingers thrusting against your gooey walls with just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling back; somewhere in your stupor you must have nodded because he continues, "Then what's wrong with it?"

You're at a loss for words and he smiles, fingers driving you mad. "Not a thing." He kisses you almost sweetly. "Right?" You moan against his mouth, falling into the baritone of his voice and the care in his affections. "Hold still, just like that. Good girl."

His fingertips are back against your clit, working you over with a fervor that has your thighs shaking and chest heaving in a desperate attempt to just, breathe. You've never felt anything like it, like your body is on the verge of catching fire, and you're chasing the flame, begging Shikamaru to set you alight.

And when the heat washes over your body, you cling so desperately to him, tears wetting your cheeks. Thighs squeezing around his hand, you swear you hear him laugh when you push weakly at his wrist - but he doesn't stop, not until the shaking ceases and your slick coats your thighs.

You collapse against his chest, exhausted, clinging to the soft and unfamiliar material of his cloak. You feel him shift, shuffle you into his arms and stand - but you can't be bothered to open your eyes, even when he's pulling the boots from your feet and laying you gently upon silk sheets. "Look at me." You whine, trying to roll over to your side but he throws a leg over you, weight holding you down. "Listen to me, pretty."

You finally open your eyes, peeking up at him through dark lashes, a blush rushing up the expanse of your neck at his choice of words. Something hard twitches against your stomach and Shikamaru sighs, "Are you not going to finish what you started?"

You're exhausted, but you've never seen him look so eager, desperate, needy - looking all the more beautiful colored in the warm orange of the fireplace, and in that moment you'd bend over backwards, lay down your life, let him consume your entire being if that would please him. "What should I do?"

"Such a sweet, considerate thing," he muses, fingers creeping up your thighs to hook into the waistband of your panties before he's dragging them down your thighs. "Can you do the rest?"

He helps you sit, reaches around to undo the button holding the back of your dress, and you nod, shaking palms finding the hem before pulling it over your head. His fingers dance over your shoulders, calming your nerves as they gently work to undo your bra. He's quick about it and you eye him with suspicion. You’d heard stories from your friends, about their clumsy, clueless husbands, and you expect the same from Shikamaru, but like everything, he’s so sure about everything he's doing. "You're certainly good at that."

He grins, taking in your exposed being, devouring you with his gaze. "I've lived a long time, pretty. Does that bother you?"

The jealousy creeps up your chest but you wretch your gaze away and grumble out an unconvincing, "No."

Palms smooth down your sides and he leans in close, hot breath against your ear. "Don't be jealous, you're certainly the prettiest." He doesn't miss the way you shudder, grasp at his shirt as you buck against him, like instinct. "Careful now, I might forget to be gentle with you." He holds your wrist, places your palm flush against his clothed erection; you're embarrassed but you don't pull away, even daring to rub your fingers up and down the generous bulge.

He groans and you feel your pride swell, if only for the moment before he strips himself of his top and pushes you down. His pants follow and you prop yourself up on your elbows, unable to look away as he rids himself of the last barrier between your bodies. He catches you staring and stands a little taller, fisting his cock with one hand, as if he's showing off. You want to roll your eyes, call out his arrogance - but you can't even fault him; besides you’re too preoccupied wondering how it’s supposed to fit.

"Can you take it, pretty?" It's rhetorical you're sure, because he doesn't wait for an answer, just fits himself between your thighs, presses your knees to your chest and prods at your entrance with the tip of his cock.

Even that proves too much and he shushes your babbling lips, pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth as he inches in further. "Hurts Shikamaru, can't."

"You can." He pulls back just to push in further this time and you cry out, fingers pulling at his strands of dark hair until the elastic pops and it falls over his shoulders in disarray. "I promise you can. Trust me, yeah?"

You whimper, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Okay."

"Such a good girl," he coos, rocking his hips into yours. "So pretty and willing." The burn starts to fade and you keen against him. "Just like I thought you'd be."

"Like you thought I'd be?" Something about that sets you off, upsets you a bit.

He smirks, "Such a docile creature, you'd do anything I ask wouldn't you, pretty?" His fingers skim the expanse of your hips, easing himself in further. "Even your attitude is cute, because I know it's just to hide that your scared, like a frightened little rabbit."

He misses the scowl contorting your face, annoyance in your brow. You huff, nails dragging down his biceps as you jut your hips upward, ignoring the stretch, the pain, the burn, too focused on the way Shikamaru loses his balance, falls forward in a clumsy, inelegant sort of way - you feel yourself drip at the moan he breathes against your ear.

"I guess even you can be wrong sometimes," you quip breathlessly, ego growing to dangerous, and stupid proportions. "But it's fine since you're cute, like a dumb little rabbit."

Several moments pass before he finally pushes himself up, eyes set upon you like a predator that's just found it's prey, narrowed and dark and void of any amusement.

Your smirk disappears.

"Oh pretty," he sighs, slender fingers wrapping around your throat in a gentle but threatening hold. "I thought I warned you to be careful."

You blink and suddenly you're on top, looking down at a very upset faerie - a terrible place to be but certainly not worse than being beneath him, right? "I'm going to give you a chance to apologize."

You're quick to take it, willing to be anything besides on Shikamaru's bad side, even pathetic. So you squeak out a desperate, "I'm sorry!"

He only laughs, but it's flat and dry and you feel a chill crawl up your spine. "You think that's what I meant? Adorable."

His cock twitches inside you and you shudder. "I'll do anything."

"Yes, you will." His fingers bruise your hips in their merciless grip. "You're going to bounce on my cock, pretty." He pulls you down by the back of your neck, lips slanting over your own. "And you're not going to stop until I spill my seed inside you."

Your body moves before your mind stops reeling, hips rutting against him with reckless abandon, as if you're bewitched. "So eager to please," he groans, hand trailing up your side to caress your breast. His thumb brushes the nipple and it hardens beneath his touch. You whine softly, keening into his touch and he smirks, hips rising to meet yours and you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Your nails nearly pierce his shoulders as you cry out his name but his grin only widens, "That's a much better use of that smart mouth of yours."

Whatever witty retort you were going to spout dies on your tongue the moment his hand slips between your bodies to cup your sex, fingertips at your clit. "You'll give me another, won't you?" Your legs shake, already sensitive from the last. "You'll be even prettier this time, when you cum around my cock."

"Sorry, 'm sorry Shikamaru," you stammer as the heat gathers in your stomach, teetering precariously on the edge of spilling over. Your legs burn and you struggle to force enough air into your lungs, still you bounce atop him, with more and more fervor until his hand tightens against the back of your neck, holding you down against his chest as you shudder and shake, tumbling over the edge helplessly. His hips take over, thrusting into you until you feel his hot seed spill down your thighs.

Shikamaru's firm chest is suddenly the softest thing on earth, his labored breathing against the crackling fire the most tender of lullabies and you feel your conscious fade.

Only his taunting chuckle follows.

The world is warm and plush and smells like home. You sigh contentedly, stretching out your arms until they hit something soft, knocking it from the bed and sending it tumbling across the floor. Your tired eyes reluctantly open, instinctively reaching out to grab whatever it was, fingers freezing mid reach.

The stuffed bear you've owned since you were six stares back at you.

You jolt up, fingertips smoothing over the yellow quilt covering your body and the tears prick your eyes. You're home.

Your heart swells, soles hitting the wooden floorboards with a familiar creak. There's a burn to your thighs and you wince, stumbling forward and nearly over. A pair of steady hands catch you and the scent of smoke and sandalwood fills your senses. You lift your head to catch Shikamaru's gaze. "Why-" You worry the skin of your bottom lip and he grins.

"Why what? Isn't this what you wanted? Or are you that shocked by my generosity."

You snort. "-why are you here?"

His sigh is a disappointed one as he goads you back towards the bed. "Careful, you'll hurt my feelings." You sit on the edge, watching as he picks up your bear by one scraggly leg. He shoots you a look before tossing it into your lap. "This is the life you whined about returning to?" His hand lands atop the footboard of your bed; it creaks under his weight and he shifts just to drive his point home further. You swear the wood nearly gives out.

"Would you quit that?"

He shrugs, making his way to your side. "Were you hoping I wouldn't be here? That I disappeared like a bad dream?" He leans in, hot breath against your ear. "Though you were singing a different tune last night." You elbow him, glare verging on turning him to burning ash. He chuckles, giving you just enough space to breathe. "Well?"

You play with the stuffed bear, avoiding his waiting gaze. "I mean-" You lift the fluffy arm and press on its stomach. "I'd probably miss you - eventually." You set it aside, busying yourself with your fingers instead. "Just a little."

His hand covers yours and you startle when his fingers intertwine with yours. "Then return with me."

"Shikamaru-"

"Not now, and not forever.” There’s a lopsided grin on his face when he adds a provocative, "well, probably."

You glare but he ignores it and presses a kiss to your shoulder, sliding the strap of your nightgown to the side. "Just visit me, like that forest nymph you're so fond of." There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, jealousy even and he takes your skin between his teeth and sucks. "No. Stay longer, more, forever if you want to. Don't run away when night falls, stay with me. Stay until you're sick of me, and come back anyway."

You can't see it, but you imagine there's a bruise as purple as Gaara's violets painted across your shoulder. Shikamaru presses against it with rough fingers and it stings just a bit. "And stop telling him your stories, they're mine now. You're mine now."

You consider it but the instigator on your shoulder quips back with an indignant, "And if I don't?"

He grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll eat you."

You can only hope he's joking.

#shikamaru #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto smut #shikamaru smut #aaahhhh #i'd love to write more of this if yall like it #even if yall dont #though its nice to know im not screaming into the void </3 #shikamaru being mean and manipulative makes me go brRRrr #and add fantasy to the mix?#ooh baby

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