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opalesense · 3 years

Note

Dick headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, and Zhongli? 👀

dick headcanons

kaeya, diluc, childe, zhongli & gn!reader (NSFW)

1.1k words • ~9 min. read

warnings: cockwarming, blood mention, size difference, liyue arc spoilers

notes: SUPER delayed response (i’m so sorry) because i genuinely took a couple days to think about some fictional characters’ dicks??? i think it’s time to touch some grass?? ANYWAY i hope i did this request justice, i’ve never thought about this stuff in detail before :0

kaeya

i’ve always imagined that kaeya really has some LENGTH. he’s slightly above average so it’s not monstrously large, but he can definitely hit your sweet spots with ease or no effort at all.

it’s to the point where he can easily make bulges in your throat or your stomach. he absolutely loves watching his entire length disappear inside you and will either tease you about how he fits inside so well or how he’s so big that he can’t fit in you. just depends, of course.

cockwarming!!!! especially if you take his entire length in so well, expect him to ask if he can bury himself in you when the opportunity presents itself.

not super related to the topic but he’s the type to “fake bang” you if you’re bent over just to tease you. also the type to discretely grind his bulge against you when he’s in the mood, whether you’re hugging, cooking a meal, or even in the middle of a conversation with someone. he will not hesitate to let you know he wants you by letting you feel how hard you make him.

i don’t think many people talk about this but i imagine he’s uncircumcised... it’s going to sound so stupid but the “always hiding something” characterization... i’ll stop talking, you probably get it now HAHA

very well groomed down there! he truly does care about appearances and cleanliness after all. you never have to worry about poor hygiene with him in general. even though he loves doing dirty things with you there’s no doubt that he will always keep his dick as clean as possible. (shouldn’t everyone, though?)

he loves feeling tightness around his cock. whether it’s your hand pumping him or his form fitting pants restricting his bulge, firm pressure against that area can make his heart race. sometimes he can just be so needy for his cock to get attention.

diluc

despite being around average size he really has some girth on him! his cock is deliciously thick, that’s for sure.

twitchy! you can learn what he loves by the way his cock or his hips will twitch in excitement, almost as if it has a mind of its own. sometimes he can get so lost in the feeling and become speechless that those twitches would be your only indicator to keep doing what you’re doing.

his tip is so sensitive... if you lick that specific spot underneath his head or use your fingers to squeeze his tip, he will absolutely lose his mind. he also likes to shallow fuck you sometimes, loving the feeling of penetrating you over and over again.

that being said, expect him to usually take things slow and steady at first. he loves seeing the way his cock stretches you out, and especially loves seeing your hole gaping open to match his thickness. the feeling of pushing your walls apart because of how thick he is is always enough to make him weak at the knees.

he loves when you inflate his ego a little by using two hands to jerk him off rather than one. he especially loves when you use one hand to massage his balls, another sensitive spot of his. seeing you so eager and dedicated to please him will always send his heart pounding.

i like to imagine he has big, thick loads too to match his fat cock... he would definitely love dumping his cum inside you then letting it spill out so he can fuck it back inside again, penetrating you until your entrance is sore and covered in his load.

childe

this man is packing. he’s huge. nothing anyone can say will change my mind. out of this entire boy band group, this man packs the most. even his in game model has been proven to have such a fat cock that his bulge can literally be seen from behind???

it can tear you apart! hell, maybe it could make you bleed if he’s a touch too rough with you. but we all know that’s secretly what he would love to see... his bloodthirst might extend to intercourse too.

despite this, of course he would make sure your comfortable with his size first and would adjust accordingly in normal circumstances. he’s aware of how big he is and doesn’t want to make you feel genuine pain. maybe in other circumstances where he needs to take out his frustrations, he might not be so considerate...

if you gently touch or lick the veins that travel on the underside of his cock he goes a little feral! his veins are his weakness, just imagine the shaky moans he lets out as you tease him by tracing your finger along those veins... god help me

i believe in size kink foul legacy childe supremacy... his cock is already above average in size when he’s his normal self, but when he transforms you often tremble in borderline fear wondering how he could fit inside you. it’s mind boggling how the size difference is humanly possible.

(un?)fortunately, he can’t keep this form up for very long but rest assured he loves seeing the look on your face when he fucks you silly on such a fat cock, even if it’s just for mere moments.

that being said, expect childe to be super cocky about his size. his ego swells whenever you swoon over how big he is and he’s definitely the type of person to use this to his advantage by teasing and pushing your buttons.

zhongli

several sources have stated that rex lapis was able to change and alter his form freely... surely if zhongli could still do this even with his gnosis taken away, he would change his size to your preference if needed.

if you wanted his cock to rip you open, just say the word and he will do so accordingly. but if you’re feeling a little more mellow and wanted things to be gentle, he would gladly alter himself to be average size, or even smaller if you wanted.

but when i say he can alter his form, you best be sure that he can make it so he has two cocks at once. yes i believe in double cock zhongli supremacy... do with that information what you will.

since zhongli isn’t exactly human, his cock doesn’t exactly match that of a human’s either. in his most natural form without any changes being made, his cock is tougher and firmer than a normal human’s muscle. it doesn’t squish easy to the touch, but it’s not completely rock solid as you’d expect, which is quite ironic coming from a geo god.

you notice his veins on his cock, just like the rest of his body, are golden. they only actually show up when he’s reaching his climax where they’ll glow brighter if he’s getting closer to his orgasm. finally, with each pump of cum he lets out, these veins start pulsing with light until they eventually dim when he’s calming down from his high.

weird, huh?

#kaeya #diluc #childe #zhongli #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia #ajax #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact hcs #mine #bang #genshin impact x reader #requested

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thatlongspringnight · 3 years

Text

A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere

⤐ au type: daffodil

⤐ themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐ kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones.

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance.

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty.

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him?

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow.

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume.

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.”

“....Not here?”

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before.

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king.

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words.

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well - just a little.”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment.

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife.

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout.

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow.

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

“Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

“Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

“Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

“Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.”

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile.

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him - and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss - her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

“I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

“I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.”

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

“I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

“Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

“It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

“Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

“But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

“Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

“Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

“Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

And it was beautiful…of course.

“Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

“Here...”He croons, reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout.

“I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin.

“...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

“What?”

“I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

“Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers.

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine.

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once.

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.”

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin.

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart.

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night.

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach.

He wants her, and -

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin.

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair.

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up.

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.”

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?”

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now.

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes.

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily.

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss.

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.”

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm? She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him.

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus -

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either.

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager.

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie – You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

“Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

“I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure.

He wants nothing more.

“Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

“I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

“Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

“J-Jungkook-!“

He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then, Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

“Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

“Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

“O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

“More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

“A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

“Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

“No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

Just her...

Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

“J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

“N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

“A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

Until-

“S-Stop -!”

Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

“C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

“Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

“I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that.

“Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I - I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him.

“Noona- “

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

“Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

“A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.”

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again.

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

“N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

“K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

“It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

“J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

“Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled.

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.”

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.”

#bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts romance #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bangtan au #bangtan fic #ficswithluv #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #bangtansorciere

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troublesomeshika · 3 years

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After all this time, I'm still into you (2)

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 3.4k warnings: swearing

You were nervous. You didn’t wanna have this conversation, but you knew you couldn’t let anymore time go by or else it might be too late. Dragging your feet, you turned down the street the Nara head house sat on. The lights were on, he was probably home. You grimaced before raising your hand to knock on the front door. After a few seconds it flew open, “Y/N!” You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but it certainly was not Yoshino pulling you into a hug.

“Oh, we haven’t seen you in forever! Come in come in!” You were thrown, you’d been ready to bare your soul and grovel, you’d screwed up all your courage and now you were being pulled inside Shikamaru’s house by his mom? You slid off your shoes, mumbling something about not making a fuss before Yoshino waved her hand at you. “Nonsense. I’m just finishing up making dinner! It would be wonderful if you’d join us.” She looked at you expectantly before you simply nodded, eyes wide, still trying to comprehend everything that was happening. You rounded the corner, being led by Yoshino, to see Shikamaru and Shikaku sitting together playing Shogi, a site not unfamiliar to you. Yoshino ushered you over to the two where you sat down, examining the board. “I’ll be done soon, just give me a few minutes.”

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” Shikaku said lightly, “what’s my move here, Y/N?” You stared at the board. You weren’t good at Shogi, and he knew that. He’d tried to get you and Shikamaru to learn, but it was such a long winded game that you’d always found it quite boring.

“Sir, you know I’m terrible at this game. Please don’t make me.” He chuckled before moving a piece himself.

“It’s good to see you around again. Shikamaru’s quite boring company,” he laughed as Shikamaru scoffed and moved his own piece on the board. The three of you sat in silence, the awkwardness growing bit by bit until Yoshino called out for her husband. He stood, still looking at the board, “I’m sure I can trust that you’ll beat him, Y/N. I’ve already gotten you most of the way there, all that’s left is to finish out the game. I’m off to help with dinner.” He walked away, glancing back at you as you shifted to take his place. He was right, he had gotten you most of the way there. You felt a soft smile grace your lips as you moved a piece. You didn’t speak a word, waiting for Shikamaru to move. It was agony. The silence was thick and you couldn’t keep your knee from bouncing as you picked up one of his captured pieces, turning it over in your fingers. Hearing the sound of a piece moving on the board made your eyes snap to the game again. You picked up another piece and moved again. Back to sitting in silence. You watched Shikamaru’s face as he studied the board before rolling your eyes and tracing the writing on the piece in your hand. You took a deep breath looking around, wondering if you could leave before dinner started. A chuckle brought you back to reality and you looked at the board. He’d maneuvered you into checkmate.

“Guess you owe me lunch, loser pays right?” Shikamaru said looking up at you.

You simply rolled your eyes. “Fine.... I guess.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “You guess? Do you need me to explain how you lost? I thought you would’ve remembered that at the very least.”

“Whatever.” you shook your head, a small smile ghosting your lips. You both sat in silence for a moment more. Breathing deeply, you tried to calm your shot nerves. You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, and Shikaku returned.

“No. How could you let him win, Y/N?” he sounded angry, but his grin told you otherwise. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to start your training again. You must be rusty after all this time not playing.” You felt your cheeks go red from embarrassment.

“Is dinner ready?” Shikamaru cut in.

“Yes, your mother sent me to get you two.” He tilted his head, motioning for the two of you to follow him.

You stood, extending a hand to Shikamaru, who stood and looked at it. “You won.” He nodded and shook your hand before turning and following his father. Walking into the dining area, you saw the table set for four with gyoza and dumplings. Yoshino smiled from her seat. You took your place across from Shikamaru before the meal began. You’d been here before, eating over wasn’t uncommon when you and Shikamaru were younger, but just like all the things you’d shared as children, it had been awhile. At some point the conversation turned to relationships.

Yoshino looked towards you, “So, Shikamaru mentioned that you were dating Kiba?”

“Mom I said-”

“How are you two?” She smiled.

Swallowing your mouthful of food, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. I was dating Kiba for awhile, but we recently ended up calling it quits. Just wasn’t working out you know?”

Her face morphed into one of sympathy, “Aw that’s too bad.”

You smiled sadly, “It’s alright, it was mutual.”

Shikaku looked up, “Don’t worry, you kids have lots of time to find someone. I had loads of girlfriends before I met Yoshino here.”

“Mhmm, and I had lots of men asking for my hand before Shikaku finally got around to asking me,” Yoshino said, holding his gaze across the table with a tight lipped smile.

“And how lucky I am that you chose me.” He raised his drink to her.

“Yes well, anyways, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” She said looking back at you. You smiled, looking down at your food. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes flickered up to Shikamaru. He looked bored and before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You immediately dropped your gaze again, feeling your ears heat slightly. It had been years since you’d felt like this. You took another bite, determined to drown the butterflies in your stomach with food. The conversation moved onto missions and you recounted your most recent B rank mission. Part way through, you’d mentioned a fighting style you’d recently learned and Shikaku launched into an explanation of why it was dangerous, and its weaknesses. You listened respectfully, knowing he meant well. Once dinner was finished, you helped Yoshino clean up before excusing yourself, mentioning some paperwork you had to get done back at home.

“Alright well, I’ll have Shikamaru walk you home,” she offered.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to trouble him, he’d probably think it’s a drag.” You laughed.

“No, no. He needs to be more active. A walk will do him good.” she brushed her hands off on her apron, glancing out into the living room where Shikamaru laid, asleep. “Shikamaru!” she called. “Wake up and walk our guest home will you?” He muttered something under his breath and Yoshino narrowed her eyes, “What was that?”

“Nothing nothing,” he sat up, looking at you. “Ready to go?” You nodded, giving Yoshino a hug and thanking her for dinner. You waved and said goodbye to Shikaku before walking to the door and sliding on your shoes. Shikamaru appeared beside you and opened the front door.

“Thanks.” you said, stepping outside. The two of you walked in silence for a bit before you turned to him and spoke up. “Really, I can walk myself home, it’s not a big deal. I won’t tell your mom you ditched me, it’s fine.”

“Tch, she knows how long it takes to get to your place and back. And besides, we’re already halfway there, it’d be a drag to go home just to get yelled at.” You nodded and a silence fell over the two of you again, this time more comfortable and familiar. You found your mind wandering back to the day you’d first kissed. You knew you were romanticizing it from nostalgia, but you couldn’t help that little bit of you that wanted to believe what Ino had said earlier. There were only a few more blocks to your apartment and you decided to say something when you got there, that way you had an easy out if it got too awkward. Once you’d decided that, your nerves began firing, causing you to pull out your keys just so you could fiddle with them. “I can’t believe you’re still so hyperactive. Thought you would’ve mellowed out by now,” Shikamaru’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Always commenting on my energy. Is it because you’re jealous I have so much of it?”

“God no, I’m glad you have it. Better you than me.”

“Would it really be all that bad if you were a little more active?” You poked him with your keys.

“Uhh yeah. It most definitely would. Somebody’s gotta watch the clouds go by and that’s my job in this world. Can’t do that if I’m always going like you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you’d say something like that.” You chuckled, gazing at him as you walked, a smile on your lips.

“What?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring. What is it?”

“Oh nothing, just glad we’re back to normal.” You said, turning to look ahead again.

His jaw tightened. “Oh.”

One word and your stomach dropped onto the road. You kept walking but you’d definitely left it behind in the dirt. Shit. What had you said wrong? Did he not think the two of you were back to normal? You wanted to hit yourself over the head. You took a deep breath, but as you opened your mouth you rounded the corner, coming straight up on your apartment building. You and Shikamaru both stopped and stood still. “Would you like to come up?” You asked hopefully.

“I should get back-”

“Please?” You stared directly into his eyes. You had to talk to him, otherwise what was the point of the night.

He gave in, shrugging. “Alright, fine. But it needs to be quick.”

You smiled, leading the way up the stairs. “Don’t worry, I just”-- you paused, ready to say it but unable to--”I have some paperwork issues and I need a genius to solve them.”

“Troublesome, roping me into doing your work for you.”

You scoffed, “As if. No see, I actually want my work to be done, not just half completed.”

“Okay, do you want my help or not?” You glanced back and saw the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.

“Yes please, c’mon in.” You unlocked the door and held it open for him. Slipping your shoes off inside the door, you flicked on the light, immediately noticing the mess. It wasn’t bad.... but you hadn’t gotten around to those errands earlier today- one of which was cleaning up your apartment. You immediately hurried to grab some of the jackets and trash, blushing out of embarrassment. “Heh, sorry for the mess. I was a little busy today.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “Y/N I’ve known you how long? It’s not surprising or weird to me, I really couldn’t care less.” He sat down on your couch, stretching out his legs. “So, the paperwork?” Just when your stomach had finally crawled its way back into place, it dropped to your feet again. Paperwork. Your eyes shot all over the room before landing on your recent packet that you had yet to fix. Thank god. You grabbed it and walked over to the couch. Staring at him, you stood waiting.

“Well?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

Rolling your eyes you shoved his legs off your couch and sat down. He raised his legs and threw them across your lap causing your heart rate to spike.

“It’s this packet,” you tossed the packet into his lap before putting your own feet up on the coffee table in front of you and leaning back, “they gave it back and told me I did it wrong, but I don’t know which part of it is wrong and I’ve stared at it so much that it all looks wrong at this point.” He hummed in response, reading over the pages.

“Here,” he pointed it out and you leaned over, looking at the page. “You shouldn’t have put that there,” he proceeded to explain the error, but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at his lips. Every time you caught yourself you forced your eyes back to the paper in his hands, but it continued happening. “There, now you can fix your paperwork.” He handed it back, putting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. You reached forward and grabbed a pen, beginning to fix your mistakes. You glanced over at him. Back to the paper in front of you. Scribbling a bit, you snuck a look at his face again. And back to the paper. When you looked at him again, one of his eyes was cracked open watching you. Your ears began heating again, just as they had earlier that night as you forced yourself back to the task at hand.

“Would you just spit it out already?”

You stared at the paper, trying to focus on the words in front of you. Scribbling you asked as nonchalantly as you could manage, “Spit what out?”

“Whatever it is that’s making you act so weird. You were like this at lunch too. If it’s that time of month I’ll gladly leave you be.”

You reached out and slapped the side of his head. “Man, fuck you.” you couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate you so much, you know?” You threw the paperwork on the table in front of you, shaking your head.

“Mhmm. The feeling is mutual.”

You let the silence hang again. For the third time that night, you screwed up your courage, intent on saying something, anything. “Alright, cards on the table, there is something I’ve been wanting to say. As much as I love your mom’s cooking, that wasn’t why I showed up at your house tonight.”

“So I was right.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not the point.”

“Ah ah. Say it.”

“No, it’s irrelevant.”

He lifted his legs and dropped them back into your lap.

“Uhf. Ok, jeez, you were right.”

“Thank you, you may continue.”

You sighed. “I just....” pausing again, you began subconsciously tracing small circles on his leg.

“If you’re gonna go soft on me just get it over with.”

You glared at him. “Fine. What I wanted to say was, I’m sorry.” You let the phrase hang in between you, letting him decide the route of the conversation.

“What for?”

“For getting us here.”

“I’m still confused. I think we both walked here with our own legs, and aside from that, I’m pretty content right now.”

“Shikamaru. That’s not what I mean. I let our friendship die. And then I turned to you expecting you to be there for me after I’d willingly pulled away. And now it’s weird and awkward between us.”

“Ehh you were with Kiba. It wasn’t that surprising. And it’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it was okay. Ino told me about how it wasn’t a good time for you, and I’m sorry because it was my fault.”

He groaned beside you. “Troublesome Ino. Can’t trust her to keep her mouth shut. What exactly did she say to you?”

“Well, she said that it wasn’t a good time for you, and....” you stopped, trying to decide how to phrase your next words, “she may or may not have thought you had feelings for me.” His leg twitched almost imperceptibly under your hand. “But I told her she was wrong. Neither of us has felt that way about each other, we were always just best friends.”

He sighed. “I’m gonna kill that woman the next time I see her. Well, she didn’t lie to you.” Your heart stopped and your hand faltered on Shikamaru’s leg. “But don’t worry I’m over it now. It was a temporary thing, so no need to feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, alright.” You said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “Well anyways, I wanted to say I’m sorry for breaking our friendship and I just want us to go back to how we were before. Are you.... good with that?”

He opened his eyes. “Of course. You women and your need to have a conversation about everything. Anyways, does this mean you’ll take tomorrow off to cloud watch with me?”

You sighed, “If I must. Although, I have to turn in this paperwork first, and I really do need to go grocery shopping, and I have-”

“Ah ah. Meet me at noon at Ichiraku and you can buy that lunch you owe me. Afterwards you’re taking the day off to watch some clouds. I don’t care what you have to do, get it done beforehand.” He pulled his legs to the floor and stood up. “Please don’t make me come looking for you, I don’t have the energy to chase you around the village, but I will if I have to.” He extended a hand which you gladly took before he pulled you up off the couch, his hand lingering in yours for what felt like a year.

“Alright alright. Noon tomorrow. See you then.” You walked him to the door before pulling him into a hug. He seemed startled, but hugged you back, albeit awkwardly. “Thank you Shikamaru. I really did miss our friendship.” It was the truth, although you were also starting to realize you’d missed quite a bit more about the boy as well.

“Are you sure it’s not that time?”

You pushed him away as he chuckled. “Get out of here, pineapple head.” He raised a hand in farewell and made his way down the stairs as you closed the door. You sighed and walked back to the couch flopping down. You could still smell the slight scent of trees and grass that seemed to follow Shikamaru everywhere. Groaning, you stood up and stared at where he’d lay minutes before. “Shikamaru Nara, you are going to be the death of me.” You shook your head before walking to your room and laying face down on your bed. It was a weird feeling, to be back in the same position you’d been in as children. Except now you knew for sure that the feeling wasn’t mutual, and that you’d missed your chance. All you could do was hope you got over your resurfacing feelings quickly and quietly. You weren’t going to screw up this friendship for a second time and if that meant quietly shoving down your feelings, well then, that’s just what you’d do.

Bonus:

As he walked down the stairs of your apartment complex, Shikamaru paused. He turned back towards the top of the stairs. Raising his hand to his face, he squeezed the bridge of his nose before continuing the way he’d been going. He made his way back to his house, mulling over the night in his head. You’d seemed so shocked about him ever having feelings for you, what choice did he have but to tell you he’d gotten over it? Besides, he hadn’t lied. His feelings had been temporary. They had to be. He had only felt that way because he was jealous seeing you with Kiba when you were meant to be his best friend. And that had somehow morphed into what he had thought were feelings for a brief time. That was all. That had to be all. Because if he had feelings for you, he was going to end up losing your friendship again, only this time it would be his fault. You didn’t feel the same, that was clear enough from your reaction. So platonic was what it was going to have to be. He sighed, opening the door to his house. Walking into the living room, he faced his parents who were sitting together.

“Y/N got home safe?”

“Yeah, it’s not like there’re murderers just casually walking around Konoha, Mom.”

Yoshino rolled her eyes as Shikaku spoke up, “It was nice to have her back over. Haven’t seen her in awhile, I was missing all that energy.”

“And she’s recently single, that’s interesting.” Yoshino looked at her son who simply rolled his eyes and turned to walk towards his room.

“Oh leave him alone,” Shikaku scolded as Shikamaru wandered out of earshot and slid the door to his room closed. He sat down on his bed and laid back to stare at the ceiling.

“I’m just excited to be friends again, that’s all.” He lied to the empty room. “God, why did I insist she come cloud watch with me?” He groaned and turned onto his side, not bothering to change out of his clothes. “What a drag.”

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru nara #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru angst #shikamaru x you #shikamaru #shikamaru nara angst #shikamaru nara x (y/n)#nara shikamaru #nara shikamaru x reader #naruto imagines #naruto #imagine #naruto imagine #anime #reader insert #x reader

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nekoramen · 3 years

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foley;

kageyama tobio. fluff, slice of life, college au. 632 words.

“why do you like me?”

kageyama didn’t expect you to pose him such a question when he hasn’t even gotten the chance to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

his arm still lays heavy and warm across your waist, his favorite place to rest it through the long hours of the night. then it curls up so that his fingers can trace along the curve of your shoulder, and you shiver when he grazes the base of your neck as he dips past the neckline of your (his) shirt to fumble with the tag. you blink at him. he blinks back.

“does anyone really need a reason for liking something?” he asks, remnants of yesterday’s slumber lacing his voice with something a little coarse but mellow, like when you get too eager and lick some brownie batter off the spoon. sometimes you haven’t even properly mixed in all of the dry ingredients yet and you’ll be surprised by a small pocket of cocoa powder, but it’s delicious all the same. you like it.

“someone,” you correct with a light smile. kageyama rolls his eyes, biting his lip but they soon mirror yours anyway.

“you knew what i meant.”

you let out a scratchy laugh before humming in affirmation. kageyama props himself up, cheek in his palm, and his other hand now roams up and down the length of your arm. the both of you know that kageyama declares his affections through his actions and expressions, and that the question comes from a place of innocent curiosity rather than a need for assurance. he knows you’d be more than fine with him responding with a simple “i can’t explain it,” but he sincerely ponders over the entire time he’s known you, leaving no memory unturned.

“i appreciate you thinking about it, but you have to remember to breathe,” you say with a chuckle, hand traveling up and thumb smoothing over the angry crease between his brows before your palm settles on his rose-dusted cheek. his own hand follows and rests over yours.

kageyama takes another moment, blueberry eyes boring into yours until he’s ready. after a deep breath, he says, “you make me feel all fuzzy inside, and like i can do anything. it’s like... zoom.”

a momentary wave of regret erupts in the pit of his stomach when you don’t react right away. he thinks back to all his literature classes and wonders maybe if he had done more than the bare minimum, then perhaps he’d be gracing you with an infinite amount of wonderful sonnets by now. but the thought leaves as quickly as it came when your familiar, warm grin appears once more.

“like this?” you do some sort of total body shiver, the sight akin to when he takes the first bite of a hot, homemade meal at the end of a long day.

his expression immediately softens, and he can’t help but smile at the way your eyes crinkle. “exactly.”

another breath of laughter leaves you, and you snuggle closer into him. “tell me more.”

the words come easy now. “you make mind go woosh.”

“mhm?” you hum. the hand caressing his cheek gently tugs him closer. it takes your all to not break out into giggles when he pauses, audibly gulping and adam’s apple bobbing. well, you really had no business brushing your thumb over his lower lip like that.

finally, he opens his mouth once more. “you make my heart go—”

“boom?” you finish. at this point, his raven locks are skimming over your cheek and your breath is ticklish against his lips.

kageyama nods.

you tilt your head up, and the kiss is just a whisper away. “me too.”

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

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⤷Wanderlust

⤷Pairing: Pro hero! Bakugo/ Reader

A/n: Listen, I yeeted to write this the second I brainstormed it, mostly because I has I see red on repeat, anyways have some plot less schmut. I hope you enjoy

❦All characters mentioned are over 18 years of age❦

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors Do not Interact

It's not the fist that collides with the wall so dangerously close to your head, it's not the sweet hum of a growl that vibrates against your chest, it's not even the gleamy, teeny tears that shine in vibrant ruby against your own (e/c) orbs.

If you come to think of it, what you think has you so riled up is the hand under your chin that's tugging dangerously on your skin, or maybe, maybe, it's the astoundingly hot knee that's pressed onto your barely clothed mound.

Whatever it is, Katsuki Bakugo invented it.

His apartment is empty, yet still meticulously cleaned and tidy, it almost feels like a shame to sit still against his grasp and observe the messy pile of clothes that's spread all over the hardwood of the tiles.

Almost.

Because when you take another glance at his broad, naked chest, you don't regret ripping his tank top over his head and throwing it anywhere it should have landed.

"Mhm" His forehead is on yours as he moans, lips brushing slightly against yours.

It's such a sweet serenade to you. Even after knowing him for years, you've never thought you'd hear him moan like this. More so, you've never thought he'd moan like this because of you.

"Fuck, fuck Katsuki!"

His lips are soft, trailing like the finest satin upon the lines of yours and yet, there's nothing mellow, nothing delicate about the way he's kissing you. It feels like a struggle to assert dominace, a battle in which he absolutely has to come out of yielding victory in his hand. And like a greek olympic, he wants to scream out of his lungs, that he did it, he had his way with his own desired so that the laurel on his locks would be well deserved.

His whole body is burning in temperatures that make you feel as though you're going to melt and crumble right on his knee, but you need to be able to ignore it, you need to give to him what he's giving to you.

Because if you don't, Katsuki will not rest easy.

In fact, he won't rest at all.

"Wrap your hands around my neck!" Bakugo orders.

With a gulp you nod against his lips, your chin coming to sit uncomfortably against his hand this time. As the sound if tour hands tousling closer to his neck though, he quickly adjusts his own hand, making his own space for it under your tank top.

Bulky fingers trail a hundred paths over your stomach and chest, skillfully roaming every single sensitive spot. Katsuki knows what he's doing, when touching the underside of your breast, when he aggressively thumbs just milimiters away from your nipple even when he's never quite touching it.

Your voice refuses to hitch in your throat this early on, but your teeth can't be controlled when Bakugo trails his hand just over your panties and gives a small flick to your swollen numb, they trap the inside of your cheeks in a tight chock hold.

It's only then that your voice finally begs to let out a yelp.

"Eager much?" Bakugo smirks against your neck, looking down to your shoulder blade.

"Shut up," You moan "and do something about it."

His teeth feel sharp when they dig into the soft skin of your neck, but it doesn't last for long, all he ever does is make you want to miss the feeling of his suckling on your sweet spots.

His knee is off of you in seconds just right when his hand comes to cup under your buttock. Bakugo carbs a handful of skin, tagging it harshly as he digs his fingers with bruising force, making sure to leave a firm, loud slap on the spot when he rips his hand away from you.

"Now tag on my hair." He grunts against your shoulder, then places a sloppy kiss on it. "You're going to need it."

With a diligent smug, you whine against his lips.

"I don't need to be told to tag on your hair Kacchan."

"Wanna test me, extra?"

His lips are attacking yours again. Each word spoken is pressed against your mouth, lost in the non existence space between the two of you. It's hard to focus on his words, hard to keep the smug attitude on when his kisses feel like that.

It's even hard to keep your composure against the wall. Soon, he'll have to physically hold you against it.

"That's what I thought."

Bakugo's hands travel to the hem of your shirt, tugging once, twice, hoping you're getting the hint to raise your hands over your head. It's an utter pity that you don't raise your hands in time but Bakugo doesn't care either way. With one hand now holding the entirety of your back, prompting your chest into protruding, his other works on lifting your shirt above your breasts.

"Fuck" He twitches.

He pushes your chest closer to him, bowing his head down slightly just to place a kiss to the middle of it. You struggle to keep your moans inside, in fact, you struggle staying still. Bakugo's way of holding you is causing you to twitch and move uncontrollably; you find it difficult to sit quiet in one place, and by the bastard's smug smile against your ribs, you know he's enjoying it.

Another kiss is placed below your right breast and you already feel spent. Bakugo's touch is hot, his kisses even hotter, even sloppier that the ones he left against your lips and bruising your skin anywhere they kiss.

"You're- you're, fucking- hot." You manage to yelp.

It's too late for praise, though; his thumb is already hooking under the side of your panties with just a ghost of a space between his finger and the skin of your hip. You can feel your self throbbing at the feeling. Still, you tenderly watch past the falling and rising of your chest, right into Katsuki's eyes as he lowers himself a little more against you.

Upon the parting of his hands on your warmed up skin, quick shivers are like whines in response.

"Listen here" Bakugo seemingly struggles, "extra" ah, that's why, coming up with a tender nickname proves to be difficult for him. Still, you refuse to give a flying pig on what he chooses to call you. It's definitely not your priority.

"We're only going to do this once, get it, once! Then I'll get you out of my fucking head"

The last part falls as a timid whisper against you, still your answer is expected to be delivered in any way. Bakugo's eyes are blinking in yours, longing for a single waver of confirmation.

You wonder if theres something hiding deeper into the scarlet of his orbs. Desperation maybe? Whatever it is, you dismiss that thought in its entirety. You're not about to push your luck. Not tonight.

Before you have the time to verbalise a well formed reply, you find that words turning on their tracks, ready to vanish after they reach their source. Your underwear is on the floor with a feathery thud. You focus your eyes onto Bakugo once again. The sight of him rubbing his head on to your thigh ferally, dragging your skin to his direction as he bites down on you is enough to make your tongue to probe out just to lick between your lips.

"Just once" Bakugo whispers, looking up at you

Your chest hitches with a hiccuped breath as Bakugo ghosts his mouth against you. Your skin is overwhelmed by a number, white like sensation, especially since Bakugo digs his fingers into your pelvis, eager more than ever to land you onto him.

And at long last, he takes a scouting lick against you.

"Katsuk-" You try to breathe, but you're cut off short

"It's fine. Throw your leg over my shoulder and relax"

The way that he shushes you with feral, ruby eyes is longing enough to have your stomach turn into a tight knot. You feel an avalanche of pleasure rush from that very knot and to your core as another lick is laid flat against you; this time, your grip onto his hair tightens and just only the low, pained grunt of his is enough to turn your leglegs into a mushy pudding.

One more twirl of his tongue and you're desperately tugging onto his hair. Biting your lip, you throw your head back. Your hips are shived onto his face with force and he doesn't miss the best he's given; his hand pulls you closer as he's holding you down onto him.

From the temperature you're feeling against your skin, you know you're going to be feeling this handprint for the rest of the week.

You're too embarrassed to admit, but the way you lock your eyes with Bakugo feels too natural, too alluring and you don't think you're going to want to stop what is going on right now, if you don't make yourself pull back I'm this very instance.

"Kacchan." You choke, shining at your own choice to push him back, even if he won't budge "Sex now, foreplay later?"

Bakugo cocks an eye brow to your direction and hums in response. His departure from your hips and thighs is accompanied by a grunt and a whine, but all you can focus on is the way he wiped his mouth with the back of his cubit and wrist.

"Wrap your fucking arms around me and don't tell me what to do baby"

Face inches against yours and chest pressed against chest, his hands cup your buttocks once again, giving you a tiny prompt as a sign to jump onto him. You secure your arms around his neck and eagerly take the leap, wrapping your legs around waist. Bakugo jubs his face into your neck, launching an attack of skin bruising kisses while slamming your back against the wall.

"Katsuki, I'm dripping, come on."

"Don't have to tell me twice baby."

You yelp as you feel your back being lifted off of the wall but Bakugo is quick to occupy your mouth with his, pushing his tongue into your crevice with malice and string determination to swallow all of your moans. His hands squeeze onto your ass.

"Bedroom or couch?" He pulls back before attacking you again. "Speak up baby"

"Fuck, bed, no, couch."

"Couch?"

"Yes, yes!"

You've been to his apartment countless times ever since he got it, whether it was on fun night in with him and your friends, to movie nights, to parties and meals. You've always praised him for his choice in having a sole bedroom, you've always complimented that it was far down the hall just so it was bayhed in light throughout the day. But now, now the distance between his bedroom and his living room seemed huge, and in the midst of your inferno, it wasn't quite physically possible to choose into prolonging your torture.

Thus, walking the distance to his couch only takes some loathed long seconds. And once the hardest part is exceeded, you find your self being plopped onto Bakugo, straddling his hips, with a buck and a nerve to your movement.

Your fingers run to the hem of his boxers, soaking along the little pool of precum that's splashed all over them.

"Are you wet Kacchan?" You tease.

And you know, you are in no place to be teasing, with the way you're practically throbbing from above of him.

Yanking your top off and tossing it to the ground, you pulled him straight onto your chest and he launched his attack before be even stopped to think about it.

Sucking the area between your chest into his mouth, his lips make loud pops as he parts and moves to a new spot every time he thinks he assault on the previous is finished.

In response you run your fingers through his platinum locks and place a multitude of kisses all over his head.

Bakugo bucks his hips against yours once more, his low grunts creating vibrations against your whole body. His lifts his butt, pushing you too in the process; the urge to snarl his boxers off is too tempting for you to not give in, it's even s miracle that you've tried so very hard not to, just yet.

With a hiccup for a breath, you yank them off and moan dangerously as Bakugo growls into the action. Now with his boxers on his thighs, he makes a note to try and wiggle the underwear off of his legs.

Your hand is over his and you're lost in the way his skin feels so hot against you, maybe it's his sweat, or perhaps it's the fact that you're literally drooling over him so much that hm even the slightest touch is breaking your feisty will.

"Touch me"

Your sirene please elicits another groan from him and the reaction is immediate; his fingers wiggle from your grasp and swiftly they are on you, feeling you up and down to make sure you're dripping just like before.

You screech when he screws his pointer fight her in you, only for you to realise it was all for nothing as he takes it away immediately and throws you a smirk.

"Fucking hell don't tease me."

"Don't tell me what to do" He says between kisses. "Fuck! I have to wear a condom."

"Wait, no! Dont, you'll pull out, and if not, I'm on the pill."

As he nods in response, Bakugo's heart is speeding up, rasping and rutting inside his chest as you looked down at him, his lip pleading to be released from under his teeth. He swallows hard as he feels you taking a grasp of his member, swirling your hand over just the tip or the base in your effort to edge him close to you.

Finally after what seems like ages his tip finds your entrance, only due to your guidance and the probing is enough to have Bakugo bucking his hips uncontrollably against you.

"Put it in baby, come on. Fuck yourself out of my head, do it."

And you do, you croutch down into him, hissing at the process whilst in synch with him, placing your knees around his hips and using your force to bounce slowly up and down on him.

"Don't tell me what to do" You smirk against his lips.

Taking a hold of his jaw you swing his head upwards and slightly to the side, your thumb and pointer finger pushing into his cheeks as you brought your mouth to his. He lowly grunts, digging his hands into your hips, lowering you into him with force.

He wants to stay put, he wants to sit with his hands leisurely over your hips and watch as you bounce onto him, but he is physically unable to. Soon he finds himself thrusting and rutting, moving, guiding you up and down into him as he buck with animalistic force.

"Fucking hell, fuck!" He yelps.

"Shit I know, keep going"

You can feel him throbbing inside you as he thrusts from underneath you and you hiss everytime he accidentally slips off of you just to slip right in again. His thumb is rubbing slow circles against you, giving you flicks and occasional pinches, his mouth is everywhere, eh there it's biting your nipples or sucking cruises on your neck.

He's close, and you're close, but that won't take from the process. Bakugo will give you everything he has.

"Fuck that's it, I'm coming" He grunts, his thumb setting off on a fire like pace against you.

Balugo jerks and yelps rather loudly, digging his hands on to your flesh and he grounds his hips on you once more. Shrieks are coming off of his mouth as he comes into you, roped of white spilling every where into you and down his member.

You yelp too and you clench around him, giving off a little scream as you feel the knot in your stomach burst into hot red.

"Shit, fuck" He grunts.

"I know, I know, that was..."

Your foreheads heads clash, sweat dripping frm your skin as you place a chaste kiss onto the tip of his nose. You can barely batch your own breath, your chest feels heavy and your lungs are burning and pleading for air. Before you have time to process it though, Bakugo's arms wrap around your form suddenly, bringing you closer to him.

"Kiss me again"

"What?"

"I'm not content with this only happening once, now kiss me again before I blast you into my bedroom."

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bnha #mha

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a-bottomless-curse · 3 years

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𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

—001. WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?

It normally depends on the situation. Before she entered Yharnam (for the second time) she often smelled like ink, parchment, medicinal ointments, faintly floral via candles, and rain. After entering Yharnam, her connection to the sea (particularly with her habit of having high insight) grew stronger and she starts smelling constantly of sea salt.

The rest of her usual scent depends on if she’s been able to have a break from the hunt or not. If she hasn’t, then she smells of dried blood, rust, the muffled scent of mint leaves (the leaves she carries in order to give her some clarity when she struggling during the hunt to gather her thoughts, either by smelling them and getting that shock to her system with how strong her sense of smell is combined with the already strong scent of mint, or to eat for similar reasons), metal shavings, and the subtle scent of the oil she uses to keep her blade and the thread clean and easy to use.

When she is able to take a break from the hunt though, she still smells of sea salt of course, but she is also more likely to smell of herbs (from her lotions and ointments for her back), mint in particular, as well as whatever flowers or floral candles she manages to get her hands on (preferring scents like lilac, lavender, rosemary, honeysuckle, mint, chamomile, and other soft florals). She occasionally ever will wear mellow perfumes (if she decides to attend a service, this is normally when she wears them), as well as her paints and the ink she uses for writing.

—002. WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?

Partially calloused, with the most noticeable ones being on along her palm where she grips her Threaded Cane, the pad of her thumbs, and between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers, where she holds paintbrushes and ink pens. However, she does lotion when she can, and with her gloves protecting her hands during the hunt, the callouses are not necessarily immediately noticeable, they are still present and never go away.

—003. WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?

Given the lifestyle that Hunters have, she tends to stick to either easy to carry snacks, or small meals that quick and easy to both eat and prepare. Cooked or raw vegetables, dried fruits, cured and dried meats (usually beef jerky sticks), slices of bread, and nuts carried in cheese cloth or designated bottles/packets on her person are the most common snacks she’ll have on her person. If she is able to, she’ll also bring three separate flasks with her while patrolling the streets. One of saloop, one of bone broth, and one of either tea or alcohol (or spiked tea on occasion). These flasks are specifically so that she can maintain protein and sugar levels if she needs to move fast, and the alcohol flask is for dulling pain when she hasn’t been hurt enough to feel the need to take blood.

When she finds the time to cook, she makes a lot of stews (particularly beef and vegetable stews), knows how to make her own jellys and jams and about a quarter of her pantry is filled with them, along with plenty of pies. Meat pies, mince pies, vegetable pies, and fruit pies. She makes a lot of them. Most of the meals she has revolves around getting a lot of protein in her body considering her lifestyle. But she also makes sure to have something sweet when she can, usually either with small cakes (including tea cakes), honey (when she can find it), sugarplums (when she can get the ingredients together), or something like bread pudding since that can last for a couple days at least.

A look inside her pantry will show that she has; jelly and jams of a variety of easy to make flavors, bottled bone broth (for when she’s tired but needs something in her body), plenty of stored jerky, shelves of root vegetables or any sort of vegetable that has a long shelf life, bottled honey/honeycomb, bottled dried fruits and nuts, and a sizeable collection of various herbs/roots for cooking.

—004. DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

She doesn’t sing much, preferring to hum more often than not. However, one of the skills her mother wanted her to learn, that her grandmother and school teachers taught her though, was the art of singing. She likes to sing lullabies oddly enough, and there what she’ll normally hum to herself when she’s working or doing something. She’s comfortable in both the Mezzo and Alto ranges, though she tends to be more of a lower-range Mezzo more often than not.

—005. DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?

Popping her knuckles is a bad habit she has that first came about when she entered school and needed to do something to subtly (ish) relieve tension in classes but only got worse once she was diagnosed with an illness and back issues. Chewing on her bottom lip became a bad habit in her younger years when in Yharnam that stuck with her throughout her life (even though her hated it as she was apparently ‘ruining her own value to future husbands’). Tapping her fingers against any surface, specifically if she is deep in thought (or thinking about things that trouble her) or simply because she’s waiting for something to happen is more of a nervous tick for her. She also shifts her weight and will slightly bounce on the balls of her feet for similar reasons.

—006. WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?

Linen shirts, embroidered vests, leather overcoats, Hunter gear, top hats and hats of a variety really, gloves (including archery gloves), neckties (slim and simple or fancy and large, depends on her mood), lace and satin frocks, satin or linen nightgowns/nightshirts, linen or cotton trousers, riding trousers and boots, leather boots, cotton ‘adventuring’ clothes, soft slip ons, simple dresses, petticoats of cotton & linen, the occasional ballgown, rings & earrings & necklaces (particularly lockets and anything with rocks embedded in the jewelry). Overall, she likes to go for a ‘lady gentleman look’ or for the look of a wandering writer. She also likes having clothes where she doesn’t mind getting dirty in (as in, going into the woods and not carrying if dirt/sap or anything of that matter gets on her). Lots of purples, blues, and greens, but also black & white, and some pastel colors (such as pink) that match her mood.

She tries to keep her wardrobe full of clothing that matches all aspects of her personality/moods and what she likes to wear regardless of her upbringing. She normally stays away from the fancier side of her clothing (minus the jewelry) and likes her clothing to be lightweight (hence so much linen) as well as easy to move in. Much of her wardrobe started to form in this way as an act of rebellion against her mother who wanted her to always look dressed up/doll like

—007. IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW MUCH? HOW SO?

Oh yes, of course she is. So much of her actions, of her beliefs and decisions and drive come from love, specifically loving others. Being deeply affectionate was bound to follow and be such a deep set part of her as a person. Even though she has a strange relationship with receiving affection, it’s an intrinsic part of her nature to give both love and affection frequently and freely whenever she can. And, in this, she tries to be honest to those who receive her affection about why and how deeply she cares for them. In the same vein though, she doesn’t want to come across as forcing others into loving her, particularly due to deep-seated trauma in being treated (and even told on occasion) by her parents that she can not be loved for who she is without changing or hiding her true self away. So, while she tries to find a balance between being open and honest about her feelings and affections (whether platonic or romantic), more often than not she will lean into showing through subtle (and not so subtle) gestures, because she doesn’t want anyone she loves to even for a moment think that she does not love or accept them.

In order to show her affection, she will do a few things frequently: seeking to spend a lot of time together, gentle touches (the brevity of which depends on how she feels the touch might be received), cooking for them, discussing topics of interest with, carving out moments of peace and calm that they can enjoy without worrying about immediate bloodshed. She will also try to grow more familiar with those she cares out, both silently (usually making mental notes of mannerisms, small things they say in passing that seem important, and learning to read body language) and by asking simple questions that can lead them to discusses themselves. She also likes to give gifts, both bought and handmade, to those she cares about as a reminder that they are thought of and cared about. Endearments and being vocal (either subtly or bluntly depending on who she’s talking to) about her affections and feelings are also common things for her to do. And lastly, she will sacrifice for them nearly whatever they ask.

Out of all the above, spending time together, either in calm and comfort or watching over them during a hunt by going together, is Kaydens’ favorite way to show affection as spending time together usually makes it easier for her to show her affections for those she cares about. However, she prefers the calm and comfort as a setting to spend time together given that it opens more windows for vulnerability and allows for the softer and small intimacies to show themselves more freely.

—008. WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?

If she makes it to her bed, then she likes to lay on her stomach, partially starfished, or on her side leaning on/against some pillows. If she makes it to her couch, then she normally falls asleep on her back with her hat on her face. If she doesn’t make it to either of those places (such as, she needs to sleep outside her or a close companions home), then she usually will sleep with her back against a wall and upright, or sitting down/curled up in a ball with her gun in hand in a hidden location. She can sleep in just about any position, but she prefers those.

—009. COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

If she doesn’t want to be heard, then she won’t be. She’s learned, from when she was a child sneaking through her parents home to read and write unsupervised, how to balance her weight and move in tandem with her clothes and even jewelry so that she’s not heard or that whatever soft sounds she makes blend in with the background, even if it’s just the wind. She’s able to keep up this stealthily movement ability up until she needs to full out run, in which case she is more likely to be heard, but only briefly.

The more likely reason she could be heard in the hallway from another room is if she has a frenzy moment, or if she got caught up in her thoughts and started humming or working through her thoughts via talking to herself. Otherwise, she’s normally very quiet with her movement.

Tagged by: @derjaegermond (thank youuu!)

Tagging: again, don’t know really who’s done it yet so, anyone who wants to do this steal it and do it :D

#about kayden #kayden aesthetics #words from the ghost || ooc

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years

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TITLE: Of Waters PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: I had a couple people wish for a follow up to my other college/university au, “Of Lines”, so here we are. WARNINGS: Some angst, mentions of cheating (in reader’s past, not on each other.) NOTE: I hope this holds up to expectations. lol Also, I’m sorry for the quiet, between a wedding and university starting this week, I wanted to get something out before things really pick up. Again, the reader can be seen as gender neutral as there isn’t a focus on it.

It was starting to eat you up a bit.

It hadn’t been so present in the beginning, sharing the friendly, albeit awkward messages to figure out where you both wanted to eat for that first date. You both had settled on some sort of little diner in the city--homey and relaxed, decent food. There had been an inkling in the back of your mind during that whole meal, something that tried to scratch at the surface of your mind, but you had pushed it down.

It had been nice, relaxed. It was a little odd to see Arthur outside of the office and what little memories you still had of him in the classroom, but he seemed more at ease at that table in that lightly populated diner. You two had settled on some sort of breakfast for dinner thing, picking at a skillet as you both exchanged little tidbits of stories about your lives. No work, no past relationships.

You knew he could have easily broken into that, and you knew you would have to address the lingering anxieties about how your last one had ended. Yet, it had just been the first date, so you let those topics lay.

Arthur managed to surprise you with his humor and the odd story about the people he used to live with, something you wished you could have matched, but you had to argue that you hadn’t lived the most interesting life. Still, things were nice, and you knew you were at least pretty interested in seeing where this would end up.

Though, with the end of the break and classes picking back up, it left room for those drops of doubt to sink in.

With the semester picking back up at the university, it was easy just to let things lay where they were. Arthur was pretty good about leaving his home life out of the office hour you two shared, at least when it came to you. There was the odd lingering touch when you would pass by each other, or a look you’d share, but nothing that would seem unprofessional should anybody walk into the room.

Going out together had been getting a little more complicated, juggling the approaching end of the semester. Projects needed to be marked, lectures that needed to be wrapped up. Still, you managed to share lunches, sneak in a second date, a third. All the while, the unexplored thoughts and doubts seemed to get heavier the more you saw of him.

It wasn’t fair, the way you were starting to compare.

You hadn’t thought about your ex in years, that whole situation put in the past with time but you hadn’t really addressed the pain that lingered. You knew Arthur couldn’t possibly be beyond the effects of his divorce only a couple months out from it, and with those two things lingering, it made the whole situation a lot more complicated in your head.

It made your stomach twist in guilt over the idea of Arthur being a cheater, yet there was always that worry in the back of your mind. If his ex-wife started to miss him, if she changed her mind, you couldn’t help but worry that this whole thing was him just trying to fill a hole until he realized he didn’t need you anymore.

Christ, you hated thinking like that, but it was hard not to.

Yet, all of that seemed to just bubble just below the surface when you both had managed to find a day and time to have dinner at his home.

It was a first for you, the both of you tending to keep to rather public spaces and restaurants. It had your gut twisting somewhat with everything had been piling up, along with stress from work. Still, you tried to push that down for the moment as you approached the home, Arthur greeting you at the door after a couple knocks before letting you inside.

He had a decent house, much as you tried not to judge too much on that. The space did seem a little bare, but you could see bits of clutter and pieces of his own taste. Considering what had happened with him recently, you couldn’t really expect much more than that anyway. The thought had you somewhat tense, feeling those thoughts starting to push forward somewhat. You really should just let him into your head a bit at this point, tell him what’s going on and your concerns.

Still, it was hard to bring up, making you further distract yourself as you looked around his home somewhat while making some small talk.

However, you paused as you came across a small book open on the desk near the hall. You had been ready to dismiss it as some assignment he was looking at before you noticed it stuck in a whole book. It looked to be some sort of park landscape filling one page and spilling out onto the next.

Yet, you didn’t get to examine it all that closely when you heard a small chuckle from behind you.

“Ah, Christ, I forgot I left that out,” Arthur muttered, stepping by you to scoop it up from the table as he flipped it closed, “Don’t usually let people see my drawin’s, at least not unless I’m usin’ them as some piss poor example.”

“You use your own art as examples but call them ‘piss poor’?” you asked, turning to glance back toward him as Arthur shrugged lightly.

“Eh...usually just show the odd one to prove I’m not talkin’ out my ass,” he returned, tucking the sketchbook into a drawer.

“Well, sorry for looking,” you said, “It’s good, though.”

“Well...thanks,” he muttered, sounding much more like he was just saying so to move on from the moment instead of taking the genuine compliment. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I left it out.”

“If it means anything, seeing that makes me believe you had more of a right to being rough on me when I was in your class,” you continued around a soft chuckle, earning another in return when he turned back around.

“...I gotta be honest, I don’t remember what you submitted to me.”

“Well, gee, thanks!” you returned around a small laugh, raising your voice in (somewhat) mock offence.

“No, no, c’mon, you can’t tell me you remember every essay you’ve ever graded,” he returned, at least picking up on the lighthearted tone behind your response as you let out a soft exhale.

“...Not unless there is something particularly special about it, I guess,” you relented, “I’ll have to see if I can find my final project again, might see if I can get a more recent opinion.”

“Well, I’d just be bias now.”

“You weren’t back then?”

“I don’t know where you got the impression that I hated you,” he said, the touch of a grin on his face but you could see a touch of genuine curiosity in his gaze as you let out a small huff.

“...Maybe I was looking into things a little too personally,” you returned, glancing down as you placed a hand against the dinner table, “Though, you did kick me in the teeth a couple times.”

“Back then, you probably weren’t the only one,” he said with a small shrug.

“You have mellowed out over the years,” you returned, causing him to glance up at you.

Really, it was hard to miss the warm feeling that settled in you, despite the teasing, something that had become all the more common the more you saw of him outside of work. You found a small grin touching your face, tilting your head somewhat.

“Though, you could make that up to me,” you continued, not too sure where the burst of courage came from, but it was on the mark enough that you saw the shift in his expression. Something softer, an expression that put a small flutter to your stomach, growing hunger aside.

Yet, as he seemed like he was about to say something, the moment was broken by a couple of quick knocks on the front door.

It wasn’t hard to miss the tightening of Arthur’s brow as he glanced toward it, confusion setting for a few moments before a look of realization crossed his expression. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line before letting out a whispered curse that wasn’t hard to miss from where you were standing.

“I, uh--I’m sorry, hang on.”

You lingered back as Arthur headed toward the door, letting out a small breath as you ran a hand through your hair and glanced around yourself somewhat awkwardly. You could see Arthur digging something out of a drawer near the front room, and you found yourself taking a couple of steps forward despite yourself as he removed what looked to be a folder--some papers.

Realization took a moment to dawn on you as he moved to open the front door, hearing a woman’s voice as Arthur greeted her and exchanged a few words. You let out a small sigh through your nose, almost wanting to laugh.

Of course this was happening right now.

“Well, now ain’t really the best time for--” you heard Arthur start to explain before he shifted back.

“--Oh, it will only take a moment, Arthur. Please.”

You stiffened as the woman at the door stepped into the house, glancing around herself a moment before stilling when her eyes landed on you. She was a pretty woman, dark hair piled up on her head, the folder Arthur previously had in her hands as she looked you over a moment before offering a small, somewhat stiff smile.

“...I didn’t know you had company,” she said, glancing back toward Arthur, the look lingering a moment. It caused you to let out a slow exhale, glancing down as you shifted somewhat on your feet.

“That’s why I was sayin’ this ain’t the best time,” Arthur returned, the tension in his voice and between the three of you really not all that hard to miss.

“I see,” she returned with a soft nod, glancing back toward you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I guess I’ll come by tomorrow for all of that, then?”

She had glanced back toward Arthur near the end of that, causing him to nod and give her a quiet ‘sure’ before she glanced back toward you to give you another tight grin, almost apologetic before she turned to exit back out of the door. She and Arthur shared a quiet word before he closed the door behind her, Arthur not turning to face you for a few moments as he ran a hand across his mouth a moment.

“This is my fault,” he said, turning to glance back toward you, “Completely slipped my mind she was comin’ by today, wouldn’t have had you comin’ over so early if I had remembered.”

“It’s...it’s fine,” you returned, taking in a slow breath as he moved back toward you, gesturing toward the table.

“Dinner’ll still be a bit, but feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

You gave him a small nod. Really, the whole interaction had been short, but it was hard to not feel tense with how tense Arthur had become. Separating himself from you by heading into the kitchen, it had broken whatever warm bubble that you had been wrapped up in and it was a hard feeling to shake.

***

Dinner really would have been nice, had it not been reduced down to small talk and awkward silence. You had been ready to just set aside the earlier hiccup and have a nice night with him, but Arthur had locked himself up and you could only feel yourself distancing from him in light of it. Really, it had you just eating what you could and trying not to keep an eye on the clock, your stomach tightening as the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind started to circle.

You really think dating a recently divorced man is a good idea? His ex shows up and now he can’t even look at you.

You’re just setting yourself up for failure again. If he can’t handle a quick conversation with his ex and continue this, you really shouldn’t even be in it.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, his voice pulling you momentarily from the spiral that was happening in your head, “Christ. I didn’t want tonight goin’ like this.”

“It’s…It’s fine--or, I don’t know. Maybe we can…” Just leave. “I don’t know. Shit.”

Finally, that small anxious part of you managed to get its claws into your head, causing you to stand abruptly from the table. All you really knew was how to avoid, you could think clearly if you were just left alone. You caught the somewhat surprised look at crossed Arthur’s face at the action, raising from his chair as you found your things. You heard Arthur saying your name, trying to get your attention, but it was hard to focus.

Though, you paused as the weight of his hand on your shoulder stopped you from just bolting for the door.

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be this, alright?” he said, causing you to shake off his hand somewhat. Much as you could turn to leave, you knew you had to say something, yet…

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you said, letting out a shaky breath.

“Do what?” he asked, his brows tightening in confusion as you waved your hand somewhat.

“This,” you said, looking over at him as you dropped your hand back down. You knew you should stop the words, but you could feel your thoughts starting to race and tumble out.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you continued with a bitter laugh, “Getting into relationships with people who eventually just...move on to greener pastures, should they even tell me. That or it’ll be through odd articles of clothing or unexplained hotel bills.”

“The hell’re you insinuatin’’?” Arthur snapped, pulling you into the moment to realize what you had just said. “You think I’m gonna cheat on you?”

“No. No, I…” you paused, that sinking feeling in your gut tightening as you could feel your heart start to hammer away in your chest. “This isn’t coming out right at all. I just...Christ, Arthur, you see your ex for a couple minutes and you can’t even look at me for the rest of the night.”

That got some silence from him, Arthur’s expression tightening with the anger from what you had said and a hurt that touched his gaze that told you more than you needed to know. You really didn’t want to hurt him, not like this, yet…

“I...I’m sorry to waste the dinner, but I’m going to go,” you said after a moment.

Arthur didn’t say anything outside of letting out a low sound from his throat, not stopping you as you turned back around and opened the door to make your way back out toward your car in the evening’s darkness.

You knew you would have to settle the tightness in your chest and shaking in your hands before you could make the drive back home.

***

Really, it had completely slipped your mind that you would have to deal with this throughout the week. It wasn’t just some bad weekend date, no you had to sit with him in a room for the same hour for a couple days.

A workplace romance, another great idea.

As expected, there was tension as soon as the beginning of the week rolled around. Short greetings with minimal eye contact, trying to work in silence with his presence lingering at your back like he was sitting back-to-back with you. Really, you had turned the whole event over and over in your head, kicking yourself for your reaction, still seeing that damn expression on his face. There was a part of you that wanted to apologize, at least for not explaining your worries better or running off like you did. However, you couldn’t quite seem to find the words and if Arthur was having the same struggle, he was being pretty quiet about it.

Still, with how things were at the university, it was easy to throw yourself into your work. Really, you could at least pride yourself on how well you managed to keep it together, you didn’t want a repeat of a couple years ago when personal issues pushed into your work life. Still, it was always there during that hour when you didn’t have questions to field and the nights with no messages or phone calls.

However, you knew this whole thing would have to be addressed eventually.

Much as there was a part of you that wanted to just bottle everything, file it under another reason as to why you shouldn’t get into another relationship. Yet, you knew you wanted this. There was a part of you that couldn’t deny the hopefulness you felt upon pushing beyond the friendliness of colleagues, even of friends, and yet...well, you were scared.

You just needed to talk to him, it was just waiting for a good opportunity or making it yourself.

Still, a week of the distance seemed to pass despite your resolve to sort that out. A couple times you had thought about cornering him during quieter moments, but you couldn’t be sure someone wouldn’t walk in on however that would go. Plus, he had work to do as well, the both of you seeming to deal with the awkwardness in similar ways. However, eventually you managed to find your chance at the university’s car park one evening after you had lingered behind to work on some semester end papers.

You saw him making his way toward his truck as you did toward your own car, watching him for a moment with a small, anxious flutter in your chest before you paused.

“Arthur?”

He stopped at the sound of your voice, hand resting against the lip of his truck’s trunk as he turned to glance back toward you. The expression on his face was...impassive, you supposed. It was better than angry or irritated, much like you feared it might have been, or it would be quick to shift into.

“You need somethin’?” Well, perhaps he was a little more bitter than you had been thinking.

“Yeah…” you started, walking closer to him as you let out a small sigh, “We need to talk.”

“What about?”

“I think you know,” you stated, trying to keep some frustration from your tone. Perhaps not at him, but born out of the tightness in your chest.

Arthur watched you for a few moments before he glanced away to look around the rather empty car park, tapping his fingers against the metal of his truck.

“Was under the impression there wasn’t anythin’ to talk about,” he said, glancing back toward you with an indifferent expression, “You said you couldn’t do this, so I figured that was it.”

“...I know what I said,” you replied around a small sigh, crossing your arms as you glanced down toward your feet. “It was...childish how I handled that. I shouldn’t have ran off instead of saying what I really meant. I’m sorry I implied that you would be anything like my other partner, that wasn’t right.”

“...That whole dinner was a damn mess,” Arthur replied around a sigh, leaning back against the side of his truck. “Guess Mary showin’ up just...threw everythin’ back in my face. Everythin’ I was doin’.”

“What I…” you started, pausing a moment as you bit the side of your cheek a moment as you tried to find the right words, ignoring how what he was saying was speaking heavily into the doubt you had been carrying. “What I was trying to say was that...I guess I’m scared to be doing this whole thing again. Dating, letting someone in close again. There’s my whole trust issue with that, but...I guess I’m just worried I’m just something to fill a hole until everything with your divorce is settled.”

“I...I know I’m not handlin’ this whole thing very well, seems fast but...Christ, I was dreadin’ this semester but you made it worthwhile to come into work. Seein’ you outside it makes me happy, too.”

“See, that’s…” you started, leaning your shoulder against the back of his truck, “That’s what I’m worried about. Seeing you makes me happy, too, but...I can’t get invested again if this is going to end up where you’ve confused that for something romantic.”

There was a pause after your words, Arthur looking over your expression before he glanced down, crossing his arms as he leaned against the side of his own truck as well. Really, you knew you weren’t sure if you were just talking yourself out of something good, it felt like it at points, but you just had to get that out in the open. Get him to understand.

“...I thought Mary was the one,” Arthur stated, shaking his head lightly, “When we decided to get married, I thought that was it. I was set, but...well, somethin’ changed. If it was somethin’ in her or somethin’ in me, I don’t know, but...well, much as there’s a part of me that’s torn up about that, I know I’m not really lookin’ for somethin’...temporary. Fill a hole, as you said. If I didn’t want somethin’ beyond that, I wouldn’t have bent my own professionalism to date you if I didn’t think there was somethin’ there. So...no, no I’m not gonna use you. Not after all this and what you’ve been through.”

“I...fuck, I want to trust that.”

“Why not?” he asked, stepping closer to you as you looked into his face. Much as the question was tense, you could see the hopefulness in his gaze. After all he had say, you couldn’t blame him, but…

“I had someone for a while,” you said, shaking your head, “It was good. Really good. Almost too good, maybe. I don’t know what happened, maybe it was all a front or if I just...wasn’t good enough, but that relationship gutted me. We moved in together, there was talk of engagement, and then I discovered the sleeping around. The...odd pieces of clothing and unexplained motel bills, as I said. I was lied to over and over when I got confrontational enough, and then...I was just done. I moved out and after that I didn’t see anyone for a long while, not until you. So...knowing what was going on with Mary and how scared I am about this happening again…”

“...Christ,” he said once you had trailed off, causing you to glance up at him, “I’m sorry that happened. I guess...well, I remember you tellin’ me about bein’ cheated on, should have realized that’s goin’ on under everythin’.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, “The thing is, I really do want to be with you. I do. That’s why I’m probably so scared about all of this. I...wish this damn conversation didn’t have to happen in a damn car park, but I guess that dinner was just the boiling point for everything. I should have just told you this instead of insinuating you would use me or cheat on me.”

“I’ve never been like that. One night stands when I was younger, sure, but that was mutual. If I’m not happy in a relationship, I wouldn’t do that. You deserve better than somethin’ like that.”

“...Thank you,” you replied, giving him a soft smile, “I...I need to know this is serious, that I’m not some rebound.”

“You’re not,” he stated, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I know the timin’s terrible, but I want to be with you too.”

“...Okay,” you said with a small nod, “Okay, I’m going to trust you.”

At that point you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle, placing your head against his shoulder as Arthur returned the embrace. You took in the feeling of him solid against you, holding tight as you let your mind settle. Really, you knew you could have left it at that, but...you knew you had been wanting to do it for a while, long before the whole dinner. You had been too doubtful, and perhaps just waiting for the moment.

Still, you said you would trust him.

So, you found yourself leaning back in the hug, Arthur’s hold loosening somewhat. However, instead of stepping away, you slipped your arms out from around him to lift your hands toward his face. You cupped his jaw for a moment, taking in his expression as he seemed to take in your own before you leaned into him, pressing your lips against his own as Arthur pressed back into the gesture himself. He shifted to press you against the side of his truck somewhat, your hands moving up to press into his hair as you pressed back more into the kiss.

There was some relief in there in finally letting yourself do this, but also starting to work on putting aside your doubt and worries that you had been shoving down. You could feel that warm feeling settling in your chest, dropping your hands down to trail against his neck before resting on his shoulders as you parted somewhat for air. Much as you knew you wanted to stay in the moment, his hands on you and your mouths against each other, you also knew you were in the underground car park of the university.

“I need to drive home,” you said around a somewhat breathy chuckle, Arthur letting out a small one of his own as he pulled back somewhat to give you more space.

“Yeah, yeah so do I.”

“Call me,” you said, giving him a quick smile, “Hopefully we can keep the issues to a minimum until I’ve got my finals sorted out.”

“Sure…” Arthur remarked around a chuckle, “Just...you’re gonna have to let me redo dinner some time once the semester’s out. No Mary, nothin’ like last time.”

You gave him another smile along with a nod, letting out a small breath as the tension was leaving after a week of it. “I’d like that.”

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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oncelers-panties · 3 years

Text

Cheer Practice

Pairing: Oncest (College AU)

Warnings: mild coercion, general n/sfw

Ao3 Link

Once-ler loses a bet and is forced to do something quite embarrassing. To his suprise, he enjoys it.

In retrospect, accepting to race against a running back had not been the brightest idea.

But in the heat of the moment, he hadn´t thought of that. Not when said running back, a brash guy named Greed, had to become his dormmate. Living with the man was all sorts of awful. Once-ler had to get used to sweaty clothes being strewn all over their bedroom, towers of dirty dishes and take-out boxes in the kitchen, hair in the drain- all such pleasantries. But the worst of it all was being awoken in the middle of the night by either the drunk yelling of Greed´s entire football team coming from the kitchen, or the screams and grunts of lovers he brought along for a good time.

Patient and passive by nature, Once-ler tried to handle it the best he could. He´d politely tell the man to please maybe clean up after himself, to mind the curfew, to quiet down a little during the late hours. Greed would wave it off, replying that he´d see to it, but nothing about his behavior would ever change. All that was left for Once-ler was to let out a defeated sigh and do the job himself, cleaning up the messes left behind by his dormmate´s companions and quietly reciting his studies in his head every other night, hoping it would tune out the creaks of the mattress and moans sounding from a few feet away. He was about to come to terms with the fact that this is how things were going to go for the next few years. But even the meekest of people have a breaking point.

For him, it was when he came back after a particularly tedious lecture, walking straight into the kitchen to soothe his growling stomach with a quick snack, barely able to stand on his legs from exhaustion. To his immense displeasure, the meal he´d prepared the day before had mysteriously disappeared, and so had several bags of his favorite brand of marshmallows. Clenching his teeth, he dropped onto his bed without looking, and noticed too late the pair of some stranger ´s underwear lying on his mattress for some reason.

A frustrated groan sounded from his throat, soon turning into an enraged scream as he stomped into the bathroom where Greed was busying himself with his hair, and threw said underwear straight into his face.

“Dude,” the sportsman said after a few seconds of shock, throwing the piece of cloth away from him “what the fuck was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing! I´ve had it with you and your bullshit! Do you and your buddies have to behave like complete assholes every day?”

Greed gave him a nonchalant look, which only enraged Once-ler more.

“I´m talking about the messes you make constantly, and the fact that I haven´t had a good night of sleep this whole week! Can´t you fuck somewhere else? Can´t you put away your laundry and wash the dishes for once? Can you not tell your stupid friends to keep their hands off of my food?!”

“Ah, that´s what you mean. Fine, I´ll tell them, geez. Not something to throw such a fit over.”

“Maybe for you it isn´t. But some people aren´t happy about living in a pigsty! You either start acting like a normal person, keep this place clean and move your nightly orgies to somewhere else, or go rent a single room, because I´m this close to reporting you! I want to be able to sleep in peace in the room I pay for with my own money, for God´s sake!”

Despite being taken aback by his usually mellow dormmate´s sudden outburst, Greed rolled his eyes, crossing his arms before his chest.

“Look, I need to wind down after a long day on the field, alright? The games are hard, and that´s my way of relaxation. Can´t you just get earmuffs or something?”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Once-ler hissed, voice dripping with venom as he tried his hardest to not strangle the other instantly. “Running back and forth and throwing a ball around. That must be so terribly stressful.”

“As if you´d know,” Greed snarled, “You just sit on your ass inside this room all day, and probably wouldn´t be able to run twenty feet without passing out.”

The two men stared at each other, fuming in silence, until suddenly, an idea formed in the sportsman´s head, evident by the snide smile appearing on his face.

“Listen,” he drawled out, “how about a bet?”

“I´m really not in the mood for that right now.”

“Just hear me out: since you think what I´m doing is so easy, why don´t we have a race? If you can beat me- no, if you can at least somewhat keep up with me, I´ll move out of this dorm, and you won´t see my face around here ever again.”

“And if I lose?” Once-ler responded after a moment of careful thinking. Greed´s widening grin should have been enough to deter him from agreeing to his terms. In fact, he should have told him to go screw himself and report his behavior to the resident assistant. But there was a part of him that wanted to wipe that cocky expression off his face and pay him back for every single sleepless night he had subjected him too.

It went about as well as one can imagine, and as he lay on the ground after stumbling over his own legs, he wished the fall would´ve broken his neck, a preferable option to what he was about to be subjected to later…

“Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on.”

The commanding voice pulled Once-ler back into the present, and with a shudder and a crestfallen gaze, he once again took in his surroundings. Greed had ordered him to come to one of the changing rooms after his afternoon football training. Why he needed him in this stuffy, cold location that smelled like someone had overdosed on body spray, he had no idea. Probably to make this whole ordeal more embarrassing for him. At least the sportsman had been generous enough not to invite his teammates to laugh along with him.

Pressing his lips together, Once-ler lowered his head, regarding the two-piece outfit he was holding in a deadly grip. It was a cheerleading uniform, consisting of a pleated skirt and a short, sleeveless top that had the name of his college´s football team written on the front. He stared at it like one would at his worst enemy, then slowly turned his gaze to Greed, still refusing to believe that this was happening.

“Do I really have to do this?” he questioned in a desperate tone, watching as the other made himself comfortable on the bench he had taken a seat on.

“Of course,” the man replied in a falsely sweet voice, crossing his legs. “We agreed to the terms of the bet, right? And you lost, so now you gotta do as I tell you.”

Once-ler´s shoulders slumped from the heavy realization that Greed was being completely serious.

“But-“

“Don´t make such a big deal about it, the sooner you do it, the quicker you´ll be over with it.”

The amused tone those words were said in made it obvious that his dormmate was having an awful lot of fun, and it made Once-ler clutch the material of the clothes even tighter, eyes shooting daggers at the other.

“This is childish,” he hissed, shaking his head. “You´re acting like a complete jerk. I get it, you won. You´re better than me. Dozens of people have seen me fall on my face in the middle of the football field, and you and your buddies are not going to let that go until we´re out of college. Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Do you really-“

“Now, Oncie, don´t be like that. You wouldn´t be going back on your word, would you? It´s one thing to be a lousy sportsman, but to break a promise…”

Greed rested his chin on his hand, staring at the other intently, and demanded once again, less playfully this time:

“Just put on the clothes.”

A strange shiver went up Once-ler´s spine at the cold trace of dominance in the other´s voice, and he averted his eyes, suddenly not able to stand his glare. Really, though, he was right. He´d just get it out of his way, leave, and pretend it never happened. Or rather, remember it forever and be tormented by the memory every night for the rest of his life.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath, shooting worried glances at the door. “But you won´t, like, record it or anything? And there aren´t any of your friends outside, waiting to barge in and laugh at me?”

“Of course not! No one´s ever around here this time of day. Besides, what kind of guy to you take me for?”

Once-ler just scoffed at that remark, deciding not to answer. As he was about to take off his shirt, he noticed that Greed showed no intention of looking away or closing his eyes, so he turned around, taking a deep breath before throwing off his clothes and starting to dress up.

“Where did you even get these from?” he asked during the process, having a hard time squeezing himself into the top that was obviously too tight for him. Which wasn´t surprising, considering that these clothes were made for young women much smaller than him.

“Don´t you worry about it. Turn around, get over here.”

Exhaling sharply through his nose, regretting every decision in his life that had led him to this moment, Once-ler faced his tormentor, unwilling steps carrying him forward. He was expecting the other to cackle like a hyena to the point of stomachaches, but was met with nothing of that sort.

Greed´s insufferable grin waned a little, and instead of laughing out loud he stared his dormmate up and down, gaze getting stuck at the long legs only barely covered by the scant skirt and the exposed midriff. He leaned forward with a whistle.

“Well, damn. That doesn´t look too bad. Willing to bet that my team wouldn´t ever lose a single game if we had you cheering for us in that get-up.”

Flushing at that comment, Once-ler reached for the skirt´s hem and pulled it downwards, embarrassment clear on his face.

“Ha. Very funny. Are you quite done? Can I change back now?”

“Nuh uh. You´re not done yet,” the running back replied, smugly wagging his finger. “What have we agreed upon? If you lose, you put on the uniform… and do a little cheer dance. Don´t tell me you´ve forgotten?”

Once-ler gritted his teeth. Of course he hadn´t forgotten, but he´d hoped the other wouldn´t remember. Again, luck wasn´t on his side. How was he supposed to do that, anyway? He couldn´t even do normal dances, much less gymnastic ones. When he voiced his concerns to Greed, the man just shrugged.

“Just improvise. You´re one of those creative artistic people, so it should be easy for you.”

“That´s not really how it works…”

Wondering whether the other would have held his word were he the one in this situation, Once-ler begrudgingly began to move, staring at his feet to not bear the other´s gaze. His motions were pretty sluggish, and consisted mostly of him swaying lightly from side to side, with a sour expression. It caused Greed to raise his eyebrows critically.

“You know, you´re supposed to do a cheer dance. That doesn´t look very cheerful to me. Can´t you do something that´s a bit nicer to look at?”

“Nicer to look at? What the hell do you expect me to do?” Once-ler angrily snapped at his dormmate as he came to a halt, patience wearing thin. He was already fed up with the other´s behavior, feeling like he was taking this too far. Sure, they had a bet, but Greed really was going out of his way to make it as difficult as possible. How damn childish could that guy be?!

The sportsman, however, didn´t seem to be phased by the other´s rough tone, still staring at him with a strange glint behind his eyes.

“Why not try shaking your hips? That always gets the players motivated,” he purred, and Once-ler, wanting to put an end to it all, swallowed his pride and obeyed. Not that there was much left of it at this point.

However, while he did feel like a complete idiot, there was something else as well, an unexpected sensation that made his face heat up from something other than embarrassment. It was the way Greed´s gaze travelled all over his body, lingering on ever bit of skin. The way he leaned forward, almost seeming hypnotized by how the pleated skirt swung from side to side with each of his dormmates motions, sometimes flashing way more than what would be considered modest. The rhythmic sound of his fingers tapping against the bench, the sight of his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

What was that all about? And why did he feel like burning up under those mossy-greens, skin breaking out in goosebumps from a sudden wave of excitement washing over him?

Maybe it was because he, for some reason, became aware of the other´s attractiveness in that very moment. Before that, he´s never really had the chance to notice it, mostly because Greed´s insufferable behavior oftentimes detracted from whatever good qualities he possessed. But now, with him sitting in silence, radiating something far more intense and captivating than his usual cockiness, all of his perks shone through in an instant. And God, there were many of them.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he gets this much traction every single week,” a small voice in the back of Once-ler´s head whispered, and despite his best efforts, he could not get it to shut up. He thought back to the many nights he he´d spent awake because of the noises his roommate´s partners had made, and it caused his mind to travel to much darker places on its own. He recalled getting up a night for some water, only to catch a glimpse of Greed pushing some guy against the wall, wrapping his fingers around his neck, calling him his pretty boy as the other writhed underneath him in visible ecstasy.

The resurfacing memory made Once-ler hold his breath for a little too long, legs beginning to shake as he became aware of the direction his thoughts were taking, of how wrong this whole situation now seemed. That moment would´ve been the right time to stop, to tell Greed that he´s had enough and leave, preferably to a place where he wouldn´t have to be around his roommate for a while. But he couldn´t. There was a part of Once-ler that wanted to keep this terrible man´s attention on him, one that made him want to tempt a little more, to find out just how much it took to make Greed do more than just stare.

What would he do, if he were to tease him that much? Get all mean, make some raunchy comments, maybe even bend him over his knee in this same dressing room, lift up that skirt and spank the bad behavior out of him? Or hold him down by his throat, like he did with that other boy, have him crying and gasping from his touch?

A frustrated sound left Once-ler´s mouth, and he forced himself to snap out of it, keep these thoughts from further fogging his mind. Only now did he notice how shallow his breaths have suddenly become, his trembling hands and racing heart, the fact he´d been eating Greed up with a half-lidded gaze this entire time…

“That´s enough, I think,” he managed to stutter out, running a sweaty palm through his hair nervously. “You had your fun. I´m leaving.”

“You sure you wanna go?” the other replied huskily, looking as devious as ever. “Because it seems like I´m not the only one having fun here.”

Light-headed, Once-ler followed his eyes, his face turning pale only to burst into color a second later when he realized that this situation had excited him way more than it should´ve had.

He let out a yelp, covering himself and looking away in shame, gritting his teeth as his dormmates low chuckle echoed throughout the room. And if that wasn´t enough, he felt the man tugging at the hem of the skirt, roughly pulling it up and exposing the hardened dick throbbing beneath tight boxer briefs.

Once-ler opened his mouth to protest, but no sound other than a small whimper would come out, and he couldn´t even bring himself to push the other´s hand away, instead only watching him flick his tongue over his lip.

“Oh my… someone enjoyed dancing for me a lot. What´s the matter? Does little Oncie-Woncie have a crush on the running back?”

“Sh-shut up,” the blue-eyed man weakly shot back, not sounding threatening at all.

“You can just step away, you know. If you keep standing here like that, I might get the idea that you want me to do something bad to you,” Greed purred, fingertips lightly brushing over the bare legs as he hungrily looked back up to his roommate. “What´s it gonna be?”

The man´s words did something to him, body being shaken by a pleasant shudder as he leaned forward into the touch, heated skin aching for more contact. His clothes felt much too tight, already leaking length straining against the fabric of his underwear, and despite his better judgement screaming at him from somewhere in the back of his mind, he remained in place. Paralyzed like prey before a beast, wondering how far the other would go.

Thus, he didn´t struggle when the other grabbed him by the waist and pulled him onto his lap, making him straddle it. Greed didn´t waste any time admiring the view in silence, cold hands wandering downward, kneading the soft flesh of his roommate´s thighs before having them disappear beneath the thin material of the skirt. The way they traced the shape of his hips and the small curve of his ass forced a whimper out of his mouth, and Greed took that as an invitation to let the tip of his fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with ease. Humming lowly, the running back stroked the underside of the erect member with his index finger, all the way upwards to the tip, where he rubbed it against the wet slit.

“My, I had no idea you felt this way about me. No wonder you were always so pissed about inviting people over, it´s cause you were jealous, weren´t you?” he sang, leaning towards the other to lick a bead of sweat off the underside of his jaw, teeth lightly pulling on the skin there right after. It made Once-ler clasp a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle another moan, and his defiant expression began to melt away with each small touch.

“As if-” he countered, voice breaking off into a sweet sigh when the sportsman´s fingers waltzed across the small of his back. “As if anyone would get jealous about an utter asshole like you. You´re the worst.”

Greed replied with a scoff, wrapping his fingers around the other´s member and giving it a few firm pumps, grinning in satisfaction at how it made Once-ler gasp and squirm in his lap.

“Then why the fuck did you get this hard from shaking your ass for me, huh? Because you are a little freak who´s into being ordered around and has the hots for me, obviously,” he mouthed back, suckling at the nape of that delicate neck as he pulled the trembling body even closer. “So drop the good boy act and behave.”

Those words went right through the blue-eyed man´s already aching loins, and not even the pout on his furiously blushing face and an attempt at an angry glare could hide how he was really feeling.

“Jerk,” was all that he could whimper, followed by a scream when Greed suddenly bit his nipple through the fabric of his tight top, brushing his lips along the narrow chest afterwards.

“Slut,” came the murmured reply as the running back fumbled with the fly of his pants, showing off the sizable bulge in his underwear the sight of which made Once-ler drop any attempt to counter his remark. “Someone might hear you if you keep being this noisy.”

“I thought no one´s around here this time of day,” the man on Greed´s lap quietly replied, holding his breath as the other took him by the wrist and, after getting his own boxers out of the way, guided his hand towards his manhood. It was hot, felt too large between Once-ler´s thin fingers, and the way it throbbed against his palm made his blood burn in the best possible way.

“That screaming of yours might still attract someone´s attention. Imagine that, getting caught jerking off a football player in the changing room… my, you´d surely get a lot of attention afterwards. I´d have to have to fight off your ‘suitors’ by the dozens,” he heard the other whisper, while his hand was being moved up and down the erect length that he couldn´t take his eyes off. “Like what you´re looking at, baby? Bet you´d much rather have that inside you, though.”

The hot air of his dormmates breath hitting the shell of his ear sent a quiver through his body, and he pressed himself against the other to keep that heat close. Something about the scent of Greed´s aftershave and his strong grip on the small of his back made him feel so, so unbearably needy. He couldn´t stand that guy and hated that smug expression of his, but damn if he didn´t want to steal some low, raspy moans from those lips, along with a kiss or two and some saccharine words of praise. Sure, he would be far from the first one to get to hear those, but he didn´t care at that point, beginning to compliantly pump the other´s dick with steady movements on his own. The action had the desired result, making Greed groan through his teeth and return the gesture with the same intensity while keeping his sight trained on his roommate´s face, taking in every twitch of his mouth and flutter of his eyelashes.

“You know, you´re really cute when you´re not constantly nagging about something,” he panted, lightly dragging his nails across the other´s spine along with his strokes. “You should join the cheer team for real, keep the players motivated. Can´t promise I won´t keep my hands to myself if you distract me too much, though.”

“God, you´re… ah- just so awful,” the blue-eyed man´s voice trailed off when he felt Greed´s tongue flick over his earlobe. Desperate for the other to touch him harder, he thrusted his hips forward, whimpering when the motion caused their cocks to touch.

“For someone that hates me this much, you sure look like you´re having a great time sitting on my lap.”

The running back wrapped his fingers around both of them, bringing their mouths close together but stopping just short of a kiss, smiling at how desperately the other was staring at his lips.

“Earn it,” Once-ler heard him order.

It was enough to make him give in, make him wrap his arms around the man´s neck for support as he steadily ground against him, fucking himself into his hand. The other´s heat was coursing through him with every movement he made, and he couldn´t help but pull on the back of his shirt, panting from how good the friction felt. It only intensified when Greed tightened his grip around the two of them, running his fingers through Once-ler´s hair with a slight pull.

“Pretty,” he softly murmured as he brought the tip of his tongue against his roommate´s mouth, having a taste before finally clashing their lips together.

Greed´s were warm and a little wet, with a talented tongue that sent sparks of pleasure through the blue-eyed man´s veins, caused him to rut against his tormentor like an animal in heat, eyes falling shut and limbs growing weak. As the room echoed with both their moans, he could feel himself getting closer to release, and it took just a few more thrusts- a few more of the running back´s touches- for climax to set in. His head fell forward, coming to rest on other´s shoulder, and he let out a muffled cry when the long-awaited sensation swept over him.

That little sound along with how his body shook with pleasure was just what was needed to push Greed over the edge as well; he groaned in delight, sinking his teeth into Once-ler´s neck again to suck on the creamy skin, catching the hot spurts of their cum in his palm.

Afterwards, it took a while for them to come down from their high, and even when their heartbeats slowed and breathing evened out, they didn´t distance themselves from each other, remaining in place as they were.

A long moment of silence followed during which Once-ler had a hard time deciding what he was supposed to be more shocked by: the fact that he´s just had a sexual encounter with his insufferable roommate, or that he had enjoyed every second of it?

Face still hidden in embarrassment as he tried to come to terms with the situation, he brought his fingers to the spot on his neck Greed had so lovingly bitten.

“If you´ve given me a hickey I´m going to fucking kill you,” he muttered, hearing the other chuckle in reply.

“Consider me a dead man, then. Besides, you should get used to those. Your performance is still lacking, and we´ll need more dancing practice to fix that, love.”

To that, Once-ler could do nothing but let out a frustrated sigh. Somehow, he had the feeling that he wasn´t going to get a good night of rest anytime soon.

#onceler #once-ler #oncest #oncelerxgreedler #n/sfw #fanfiction

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mellowpremiumvictoria · 2 years

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crybabyjam · 3 years

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born to die for you

ship: bakudeku

rating: t

fantasy au.

summary: Katsuki is still coming to terms with Izuku's sacrifice for him.

content warning for described (past) eye trauma/injury

companion art available here

available on ao3 here

---

With nightfall comes a chill that nips at Katsuki's bones, painful where they've been broken and reformed time and again. Katsuki picks at the bracer outlining his wrist, unsure if he wants to tighten it or loosen, but is soon distracted by the sound of footfalls from behind him.

He turns, not sharply because he recognizes the cadence of the leather boots, and acknowledges Izuku's arrival with a soft grunt.

Izuku carries with him a bundle of firewood, much more than they needed for a night's rest, but he always did that.

"What if we want to sleep in tomorrow, Kacchan?" Izuku had mused, in the past. "Then you can just reignite the wood from our bedroll."

"And incinerate the entire fuckin' forest while I'm at it." Katsuki had grumbled, not pointing out the fact that it was Izuku who chose to leave their bedroll each morning, bright and early.

Now, Izuku has busied himself with kindling in the shape of thin sticks and twigs and dry dead grass. Katsuki turns away before he's caught staring.

(read more)

Small swarms of fireflies dip in and out of the treeline, flickering their delicate glow behind moonbeams that pierce through the thick throngs of branches and leaves. Katsuki waves a couple away from his face, blinking up at the sky.

It was a pleasantly clear night, though the stars were soon dulled as thick smoke entered the atmosphere. Izuku stands up tall, stretching a crick out of his neck, and Katsuki's eyes turn towards the modest campfire that soon soothes the ache from his bones with its mellow warmth.

Katsuki falls heavy on a log he'd dragged out into the open earlier, which has rotted a bit by the way it has turned green around the edges, but was stable enough to hold his weight. Acrid smoke curls around him, scaring away the pesky lightning bugs that have taken interest in his eyelashes, and Katsuki finds comfort in the way it pleasantly coats his lungs.

With a deep breath, he lets his spine curl over as he leans against his knees, still picking at his bracer. He hadn't realized how high his shoulders had been to his ears until then.

Izuku comes to join him on the log, fingers skipping across the exposed skin of Katsuki's shoulders that lay bare without his cloak. They're cold at the tips, but tepid at the palms when he curls the calloused pad of his hand around Katsuki's upper arm.

"Long day, hm?" Izuku muses, quiet. As if someone could overhear them, purposefully lost in the woods as they were. They'd travelled ages and hours to get here, to the middle of nowhere, and they had the scars to prove it.

Katsuki's eyes dart over to Izuku's. One, vibrant green and bright and a bit tired around the edges where the few sleepless nights he'd gone through have built up over the weeks and left dark smudges and swollen skin beneath his waterline.

The other eye still has the bags and the dark marks, but is nothing more than a blank, white marble that mocks Katsuki at the best and worst of times.

He turns away with a jerk, knocking Izuku's hand off of his skin. Izuku takes no offense to the motion, only offering a temperate hum as he stands again to pick through their wares for dinner.

Generally, Katsuki was the one who cooked.

He hadn't offered tonight, because there was something, some stupid feeling simmering beneath his skin and his muscles and gluing between his bones, that left him hot and cold and overtly empty in the stomach.

Katsuki could barely focus past it, which only got him more pissed. An irritating feedback loop, and Katsuki scarcely had the energy to take those feelings out on an enemy or an unfortunate tree stump, let alone talk it through rationally with his partner.

His partner, who has busied himself with their cooking pot and setting up a spit to cook the small rabbit they had prepared earlier. Izuku sets it out, the rabbit carcass, as close to the fire as it can get without preemptively cooking, so that the bugs stay off of it.

Then, he tugs out a sack filled with potatoes that have lasted them most of the month, a shallot or two squished at the bottom. The rest of their mushrooms are spread throughout, like edible ornaments, and he upends the whole of the bag atop a slab of clean wood, nestled in a cleared area on the forest floor. They spread messily across his chopping block, the heavy one that hangs off of a loop on Izuku's pack when they hike through woods and mountains.

"Peel these?" Izuku asks, holding up two of the five small potatoes they have left. Altogether it would be a hearty meal that would send them right to sleep, and probably have leftovers for breakfast if they remembered to keep it covered and simmering through the night.

Katsuki doesn't make a show of his compliance, unhooking the paring knife from their food pack and gathering up the potatoes without a sound. Izuku's head tilts, as if trying to figure out a puzzle or hear a silent song on the wind. He mumbles something, purposefully low so that Katsuki doesn't hear, but he disappears with the cooking pot before Katsuki can make a fuss about it. Off to get clean water from the stream they'd set up partially near.

With his absence, that feeling that coiled around in Katsuki's gut— like a stubborn snake that has carelessly poisoned itself— starts to rear up even heavier.

He recognizes that it is, atleast partially, fear. Fear of what will happen with Izuku out of his sight. How fucking stupid is it that he only starts getting afraid for idiot Deku after he's been injured, healed over, and shown to be alright.

And though Katsuki cares for the half-elf, he… isn't the best at categorizing his own feelings. Especially for others. Even before the incident, Katsuki's relationship with Izuku was a fragile thing: thin and easily pierced like an eggshell. Anything could come and break it, and Katsuki hadn't been ready yet to acknowledge how much it would wound him if it did happen. Still isn't.

Though, it's not as if he… didn't care before. Far from it. But the injury had only cemented some sort of mortality in the thick of Katsuki's mind, for the both of them. Each battle could bring the demise of either one of them; could end the fanciful dream they have conceived where they would wind up, at the end of their days, together and happy and peaceful.

Instead, it was more like Izuku was the one who didn't care.

He had laughed, joyous and bubbling, with his eye plucked straight from his head like grapes unready to be pulled from a vine. Covered in his own blood, dying, and he was just happy that he'd saved Katsuki.

Katsuki had been cursed, some while ago, by some asshole who hated his guts for some reason Katsuki couldn't even remember anymore. They, the one who cursed him, had thought it would be funny to torment Katsuki. To dangle his dreams in front of him and tell him, clearly, that he would never achieve them. That the only thing he had to look forward to was the dark veil of death.

The curse decreed that his vision belonged to that sorcerer. Someway or another, completely outside of Katsuki's control, he would lose them (his dreams, his vision, his future) and die. For a person without a future is nothing more than a corpse, they'd said.

Izuku hadn't liked learning that. Almost more than Katsuki hated being toyed with by a shitty spellcaster.

There isn't much Katsuki remembers specifically about the event, truly. He knows that Izuku had figured out how to fiddle with the curse, how to turn it onto himself instead of Katsuki. How to make it so that something physical is given up, instead of a full life.

Izuku had willingly given up his eye, so that Katsuki could live. He gave up part of his own vision, his iris greying like a silver coin, and had been so happy when he'd turned to Katsuki, expression bright and open, when it worked.

It took them both by surprise when the curse-giver had returned with a vengeance, even before Katsuki could get mad at Izuku for butting in where he shouldn't have. Katsuki had barely opened his lips, ready to yell probably, when sharp fingers had plunged into Izuku's face. Those fingers had sliced through Izuku's battle-hardened skin and bones like it was soft river water parted by a departing boat.

Something Katsuki does starkly remember is the intense despair that had gripped his ribs and rattled them like rusting cage bars, seeing that. Izuku's lifeblood spilled across his pores, painting across his freckles with deep, heavy crimson. Katsuki remembers how it had dried brown just around the edges, but still sluggishly bled when Izuku passed out in his arms.

He couldn't breathe with every step he took to a medic, or a necromancer, or even a fucking seamstress if only they could fix Deku.

"I'm glad, Kacchan," Izuku had mumbled, voice dying in his throat as the pain gripped him from inside and outside his skull. He was still smiling, teeth staining red as his wound spilled over across his lips. "You're free."

As an elf, Izuku had a long life in front of him. Even before Katsuki was born some thirty years ago, Izuku had lived through half the lifetime of a plain human. And even now, they've only known one another for five years, no longer than that. So why had it been so easy for him to give up the rest of his life, just for Katsuki?

It haunted him, still, that he didn't know the answer to that question.

Katsuki had to trade his sword, pommel embedded with rare stones charmed with strength magic, to pay for the medicines, the surgery, and for his new eye. It wasn't his best sword, yet was an heirloom from his parents. Despite that, he'd used the thing maybe a dozen times for the better part of the year, so it had been easy to part with. Much easier than giving up Izuku.

It was scary, realizing the extent that his care for such a stupid elven idiot went.

Before the incident, Katsuki could have even comfortably said that he hated the guy, that he was stupidly selfless and had a god-complex from always looking down on everyone. That he was annoying. It would have been a lie, the 'hate' part atleast, but Katsuki could have said it and been at ease with himself.

Even when Izuku would greet him with a bright smile, a 'Great work, Kacchan!' after battle, or a gentle touch when they had to suture one another's wounds, Katsuki had been… hesitant with his— heart or whatever. He barely wanted to let the elf in, because that was just another weakness his enemies could use to get to him. And, because…

Izuku returns with a full pot and two full waterskins.

Katsuki had been distracted and slow-going with the potatoes, so he still has two left to peel by the time Izuku sits cross-legged in front of the fire, stirring the water with spices, cuts of butter, the mushrooms.

"What's bothering you, Kacchan?" Izuku asks, knife coming down hard on the chopping block as he prepares the few peeled potatoes and the rest of the vegetables for the stew. The rabbit is quickly dismembered and stuffed tight into the tiny cast iron vessel, before the stew is placed back over the fire.

It doesn't even bubble and boil before the aroma is drifting through their humble campsite.

When Katsuki doesn't answer the question, Izuku slips his legs beneath himself and crawls over, knees staining with dark soil. His hands are dirty with rabbit blood and salt.

"I can help, if you tell me."

His hair is soft as he rests his head in Katsuki's lap, uncaring of stray potato peels. His fingers curl over as he holds them limply in the air, careful not to stain either of their clothes.

His eyes drift shut. The scarred side doesn't close all the way, a thing it sometimes does when Izuku lays his neck at odd angles. He never notices it, but Katsuki does. The scar is thick, though it wasn't keloid or bumpy, and sometimes made his left eyelid curve up away from the lower lid.

Katsuki didn't want to let Izuku into his heart because Katsuki wasn't strong enough yet, for love.

It's something he realized in the middle of a night when he'd startled awake, breathing in the scent at the nape of Izuku's neck. It was a soft fragrance, and though Izuku was a light sleeper he hadn't woken up when Katsuki jerked from his nightmare by gripping him tight around the middle.

No, he stayed peacefully dozing, as the morning sun began to melt the dew and warm the ground. And so, Katsuki was able to look at him clearly, openly, and thank the heavens that Izuku was still with him. It made him pathetically soft in the heart, pressing himself skin to skin to Izuku.

Caring takes a lot out of a person, requires a lot more. It hurt to admit, even in the hidden space of his mind, but Katsuki didn't think he'd ever be strong enough, for love.

Something else Katsuki remembers from the episode that cost Izuku half his sight is how much Katsuki had cried. His entire frame had wracked and shuddered with sobs, hands dirty with elf blood and salty tears that surely did not help the wound.

Like with everything else, he doesn't know how he was able to kill the sorcerer who cursed them both, but he does remember the vibrating, thrumming heat all through his veins. It was as if he was a beast that had been dulled with drugged food and collars and chains for all of his life, and was suddenly let loose.

He let his anger consume him in a literal blaze, igniting the earth and the air without prejudice. He seared sinewy muscle from bone, his own as they crackled to absorb his influx of power, and that of the sorcerer who dared to find humor in Izuku's sacrifice.

Izuku tells him this, laughing the same way as he did that horrible day, and also says that Katsuki had been a stunning sight, finally reaching the apex of his power: his maturation. He had glowed with his anger and his heat and his fear.

Dragonkin did not mature traditionally. Their powers were muted, though still strong, and were kept locked inside of their bodies until they reached a boiling point in their life. A period of time of extreme stress, pressuring them to mold into something new— like diamonds sitting at the Earth's core tense under magmatic rock. Katsuki matured much earlier than most.

Of course it would be Deku that brought him to that breaking point.

It was ironic, in a way that Katsuki didn't care to think further about. Especially not at that point in time, when Izuku was choking on his own tongue and turning pale as he bled out. He'd smeared some of it, the blood, across Katsuki's face, messily staining locks of hair that had grown longer with the breadth of their shared adventure.

"Kacchan," Izuku says.

Katsuki blinks, and Izuku is now sitting on his right, also atop the log. He'd missed the moment when Izuku decided to rest his head against Katsuki's shoulder, only catching the motion as he pulls away to clean his hands with a wetted cloth.

"What?"

"I asked if you weren't feeling hungry after all. It was a long day." Izuku has to wet the cloth twice more with water from his waterskin in order to get the stubborn, thin blood from between his fingers. "You can sleep, if you want."

Katsuki rolls excuses around his tongue, jaw clenching and unclenching. "It's almost done. 's fine."

The pot begins to bubble in that moment, summoned to life. It overflows a bit, and Izuku hurries back over to stir. Katsuki watches as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear with his cleaned fingers, unnoticing of the stray strands that tickle his blind side.

He ladles some of the soup with a small spoon, though the rabbit is nowhere near done, and sniffs at it closely. His nostril flares, wrinkling at the edges of his smile line, which means that he thinks it smells good.

Still, he adds a few more dashes of spice and hurries to finish chopping the rest of the potatoes. Conversation forgotten (but not really), he hums a soft tune to himself. Bathed in firelight like this, half-angled away, it looks as though he's been untouched by the war and the battles they'd been through.

Katsuki makes the mistake of shifting, sitting up straighter, and Izuku glances up at him. His fake eye reflects brighter than his real one, and it's like a stab.

When Katsuki does nothing more than resettle, Izuku turns back to their meal and cleans up the utensils and the cutting board. He rinses them only, preferring to sanitize in the morning when they take river baths. He lays them out on a terrycloth to dry, and settles back on the log with Katsuki, crossing his legs at the ankle.

He lets Katsuki brood silently, then, busying himself with picking the dirt from his knees and pulling over his sword to see if it needs sharpening. It doesn't, but he pulls out his whetstone and tools to polish it at least. Izuku doesn't see how Katsuki clenches his fist and squeezes tight on nothing.

"Deku," Katsuki starts, before stopping just as suddenly. "Why…"

Izuku turns to him again, has to shift onto one of his hips to see Katsuki properly. Another stabbing reminder. He seems to find something worrisome in Katsuki's gaze, or maybe his tone, because he sets down his sword again and scoots closer.

He holds his hand out, palm up, and Katsuki hovers over it hesitantly.

"Talk to me, Katsuki."

There's too much to say, really.

Katsuki lets his hand rest in Izuku's and sighs. His palm had warmed from earlier, probably from gripping the chopping knife, and the physical reminder that he's here and alive settles the fear in Katsuki's stomach, just a touch.

He doesn't get a chance to fully develop his thoughts, whatever they were, because the pot starts to boil over again. Rabbit marrow and blood thickened by the heated water splatters into the campfire, further daubing the campsite with its hearty flavor. Izuku looks stricken when Katsuki pulls away, but only nods to himself and goes to tend to it.

He's still looking back at Katsuki when he reaches for the ladle, which is why he misses. His hand goes dangerously close to the flames, nearly curling around a charred log. When the heat registers, he jerks back with a hiss, but the pot is in the way.

His fingers touch the searing hot iron full on, stay in contact long enough that there is a faint sizzle, but he is able to yank it away with a ragged gasp. Katsuki jumps to his feet, heart pounding.

He snatches Izuku back by the collar of his shirt and drags him away a few paces, eyes wide.

"Idiot!"

Izuku grunts as he's choked, and then when the pain flares a bit as he holds his fingers up to the light. Katsuki circles to his front, darkening Izuku with shadows, and grabs his hand to look at the injury himself.

It isn't a bad burn by far, somewhere between a first and a second degree. He'd probably get worse standing too close to Katsuki in battle. But it was a preventable one. Preventable by a margin of months, in a timeline where Izuku hadn't been so fucking… him that he took a blow meant to rid Katsuki from the world.

Liquid fire laps at Katsuki's throat, or maybe it's bile from the sudden deluge of anxiety, and it scorches him so much differently than his fire ever does.

"You never fucking learn," Katsuki growls, throat igniting. He has to breathe all of the fire from his lungs before he makes the injury worse, turning away until the flames putter out to embers that tingle across his tongue.

"Sorry, Kacchan." Izuku is placid when he tugs his fingers out of Katsuki's grip, rubbing his thumb across the already presenting blisters. "Guess I'm still getting used to… you know."

He says it as if it's a joke, as if it was the same as tripping over untied shoelaces, and Katsuki gets pissed.

He goes red in the face, and not in the same way he does when Deku holds him close and kisses him on the cheeks or around the neck. It's mottled and splotchy, and the same face he makes when he's moments away from crying— whether furious tears or not.

"Maybe if you hadn't taken a blow not meant for you, you'd still have your two shitty eyes." Katsuki grabs his hand again, too rough, and pulls Izuku over to their bags. Izuku yanks his appendages back when Katsuki lets go to shuffle through their things for salve and bandages.

He licks at them with his tongue, blowing cool breath to ease the biting pain. Idiot would get himself fucking infected.

"Just like the last time you said that, I won't apologize for what I did." Izuku says it firmly, as if it were an obvious conclusion he'd come to and not one born of— of fucking stupidity and martyrdom.

"I would do it again if I had to."

"You didn't have to the first time!" Katsuki explodes. It's literal when shards of their salve pot splinter between his drawn knuckles, though the ceramic is shattered to dust enough that the skin doesn't cut. He jerks his fist back, hiding it even though Izuku doesn't reach for him, and smears the smooth paste against his trousers as he continues, "I didn't ask you to sacrifice yourself, you ass."

Izuku stands up straight, looking him right in the eye even when Katsuki can't bear to stare at him back. Daring him to do something. He shoves Izuku in the shoulder, making him stumble back, and forces him to sit back on the log that has been plopped upon so heavily in the last hour that it has made its own indent in the soft soil.

What salve he has managed to save, piled and stuck to the backs of his nails, he plasters across Izuku's newest injury. It instantly soothes the pain, and the pinched expression sitting on Izuku's brow eases to something calmer. He's still upset though, lips pulled down in a frown as he tries to look Katsuki in the eye again.

Katsuki stays looking down, at the swollen blisters that would surely rupture in the next skirmish they had, and reaches for the gauze and cloth to wrap them in.

"I'm not fucking weak." Katsuki sighs, finally. Softly. He deflates with the motion, shoulders dropping until he looks small and tired, and they are so far from the campfire that he is outlined in white and blue moonlight like a dying siren in the ocean.

"You're the strongest person I know," Izuku agrees.

The fight fizzles out, just like that. No kindling to keep it alight.

The two longest fingers of Izuku's hands get wrapped thickly, so that if he knocks them into things they won't hurt too bad. Another is just lightly reddened, the most minor of burns, and only gets a thin layer of the rest of the ointment before Katsuki lets him go.

Izuku pats the spot next to him on the log, on his blindside.

Katsuki goes, not begrudgingly but tired all the same. He sits on Deku's left side and turns to look at him fully, watching the way the scar curls and curves as high as his hairline and as low as the jut of his jaw.

The overboiled pot is taken away from the fire, settled on a thicker piece of wood that can stand the heat of the iron. Izuku leaves it to simmer there, but both of them know it will be a long few hours before either is ready to eat it.

Unobstructed, the campfire flames flicker higher into the night sky.

It isn't so tall as to rival a bonfire, not even close, but it curlicues into the sky as if playing with starlight. They are granted more light, in return, and Katsuki can see clearly how Izuku is struggling to come up with the right words to stay, to figure out what was wrong with Katsuki that night.

It doesn't irritate him as much as it would have in the past.

"Deku," Katsuki tries again.

Just as before, Izuku turns to him. Before he has a chance to second-guess himself, Katsuki reaches out to touch. Izuku relaxes as soon as Katsuki's hand has curled around his jaw, fingers grazing the straight edge of his pointed ears.

Katsuki's fingers bleed warmth where they press into Izuku's skin, heating it up until he goes pleasantly pink around the fringes. His thumb brushes the edge of the inlaid scar that just barely missed bisecting one of his more prominent freckles in two. It is completely healed over, has been numb to everything for months, but Katsuki is tentative around it as if it were still fresh and raw.

He remembers tending to it, after Izuku's life was no longer in danger. It looked different then, scabs peeling away to reveal more scabs, and he hadn't been able to stick in a prosthetic piece until the cavern where his old eye rested had been aired out and cleared of both blood and debris.

Katsuki had to flush it every so often, with sterile water and stinging medicine, and Izuku had thrown up the first time he'd had to experience it. The pain had gone straight through what few nerves he had left and grabbed at his brain with sharp talons, and it had taken a considerable amount of both of their strength to get him to lay still again.

Kacchan had touched him in this familiar way, back when the eye was taken. Katsuki's face had been splattered with tears and Izuku's blood, because Izuku had accidentally brushed some of it onto his skin when reaching for him, to comfort.

But Katsuki was so beautiful and bright like the sun, but closer and more tangible and much more torrid. Izuku had felt so blessed to be able to witness his rebirth, to be the first to see his true power burst from his fingertips and his mouth, that Izuku hadn't thought to be upset that he would die soon afterwards.

"Don't cry, Kacchan," Izuku remembers saying, hopefully smiling in a way that wasn't too crazed. It hurt to move but he pressed his hand to the back of Katsuki's palm anyway and hugged it tighter against his unmarred cheek. "That's my job, remember?"

"It'll be okay." He'd said, also. "Everything will be fine." Because even if he died, Kacchan was free now, to live and to see.

For Izuku, his scar is a sign of what he is willing to do for his Kacchan, the risks that come with loving someone heart and soul. He wears it with pride, content in knowing that Katsuki survived— no, that he won that day. Even from the beginning, Izuku would have given up the world for Katsuki.

He's lived long enough to learn to cherish what he falls in love with— especially when he may live so long as to lose it in the blink of an eye. Literally.

But to Katsuki, it is only a painful reminder of his weaknesses. His inability to protect himself, let alone protect his own. It's cruel, the way that Deku chooses to stand on Katsuki's right side, so that if Katsuki even so much as tilts his head, he sees the glint of the fake, unseeing crystal glinting in sunlight.

Izuku looks at him, the injured eyelid drifting shut as Katsuki focuses on it for a long, aching moment.

Silence, only the soft lulling lullaby of forest symphony.

Then, "Izuku," Katsuki breathes. It's a whisper, softly anguished, and it breaks Izuku's heart.

"Why did you…" Katsuki trails off, leaning forward to drop his face against Izuku's shoulder. His nose presses against the jugular and he can feel the full thrum of Izuku's heartbeat pumping blood inside his veins. "Why did you do it?"

In every moment with Izuku, Katsuki is reminded of his shortcomings. It's amazing that he hasn't realized, not just yet, that it is pure trust in his abilities that makes Izuku choose to stand on Katsuki's right side. Where he is blind, he knows Katsuki is there to defend and to protect, to fight back against those who will try to take advantage of his weakness.

Though his wound could be debilitating in battle, never once after the incident had he been hit on his left. Not with Katsuki there.

"Because I care about you," Izuku explains carefully. He cradles his other hand, the uninjured one, around Katsuki's back and holds him steady. "Because I knew what I was willing to do for you, even if you hated me for it."

Izuku has never been uncertain of where Katsuki stands in his heart. He loved him with everything he had, and he would show it time and again, for as long as he was able because forever is such a fickle thing. And though they hadn't yet promised to be the other's forever, Izuku knew it was what he wanted.

"Because I love you," Izuku adds, as if it weren't clear. As if he didn't say it every day in words and in actions. He was willing to wait and to fight for it, even if Katsuki chose to never reciprocate those feelings. Izuku would always love Katsuki fiercely and purely.

The two stay like that, half curled in on one another. Izuku isn't sure if his words absorb the way he means them to, or if he should say more to prove his feelings. But Katsuki doesn't move, so Izuku doesn't pull away.

Whatever it is that Katsuki takes from Izuku's words, though, he seems satisfied as he sits up straight. He's calmer, and that self-assured look is back where it should be.

Katsuki gathers him, first by wrapping his arms tight around Izuku's torso to pull him hip to hip, and then with his palms pressing against his cheeks. He does that often, these days.

Katsuki looks Izuku in the eyes, gaze flickering from side to side as he looks first into the blank eye and then into the green one that greets him eagerly.

"Okay."

The rabbit stew sits, forgotten and simmering next to the blooming fire as Katsuki pulls Izuku from the log towards their bedrolls. He kicks away the bags from their pillows and tugs off his bracers, dropping them somewhere where their feet will rest when they sleep.

In the morning, they will scramble for their things as they begin their day: Katsuki's bracers and Izuku's sword, the rabbit stew gone cold when the fire died down in the middle of the night, and the ointment that dried sticky on Katsuki's trousers.

But, just for tonight, the only thing that matters to both of them is each other. Katsuki lays with Izuku down atop the earth, breathing with him, looking him in the eyes.

Izuku's head rests in the crook of his arm, and he hooks a blanket over their hips. He lets his hand come to lay on Katsuki's arm, rubbing semi-circles into his flesh until Katsuki relaxes further into their shared bedroll.

Katsuki sits up, only to pull Izuku closer and settle his own arm beneath Izuku's head, trapping him there until Katsuki has taken his fill for the evening.

He makes a silent promise.

Izuku was already in his heart, rooted firmly there, so Katsuki would do everything he could to protect him from now on. There was no obstacle he wouldn't face, no weakness he couldn't overcome—

Katsuki would get stronger alongside Izuku so they could live together, forever.

---

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#bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #boku no hero academia #long post #fanfic #writing tag

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oh-obrien · 4 years

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Inscrutable {2}

Inscrutable: Impossible to Understand or Interpret

Part One

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Original Female Character Word Count: 5,915 6,275 Warnings: None Author’s Note: Really excited to share part two with everyone!!! Send me an ask or message me if you want to be tagged!

THIS PART OF INSCRUTABLE HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH MORE CONTENT AND HAS ALSO BEEN EDITED MORE THROUGHLY!

Leaning against a lamppost at the entranceway to the parking lot, Finley twirled the lanyard connected to her car keys around her middle and pointer fingers, waiting for Stiles to show up. He didn’t seem like the type of person to flake out on commitments, so Finley convinced herself that his class had just run a little but over time.

While she waited, Finley let the warmth from the metal lamppost soak into her skin, a comfortable warmth spreading over her body. She watched as the fabric of her lanyard twirled around her fingers, eventually reaching the end before she twirled it out again. After getting out of her final class of the day early, Finley texted Stiles that she would meet him near the parking lot behind her dorm building after she dropped her lacrosse bag off in her suite.

Her pent-up frustration from the first day of classes led Finley over to her car where pull out an extra lacrosse ball she knew she had kept in in it; just for these types of occasions. She was always able to pull an extra lacrosse ball out of somewhere if she needed to, and it currently seemed like a better idea than hitting herself with her keys over and over while she spun her lanyard. The metal has already managed to leave a few bruises that had she had healed over due to her supernatural healing, but she was not looking to prolong the experience. Bouncing the ball between her two hands, Finley sighed and pulled her Ray Bans up onto her head so she could see the pathway that led out of campus a little clearer.

After a few more minutes of mindlessly bouncing the tie-dyed ball up and down she heard a voice call out her name. She caught the ball in her left hand and turned around to see Stiles walking down the path, his backpack still slung around his shoulders and his flannel in his hand. He looked like he had recently started trying to bulk up but wasn’t quite sure how to do it properly. I had been a phase Cian went through his freshman and sophomore year of high school; it took time to master. She knew Stiles would eventually be able to get a hang of it himself, but she would try and remember to ask Cian if he had any good human-based pointers for trying to bulk up later.

“Hey,” Finley replied as she pushed off the lamp post and walked towards Stiles. She pulled her sunglasses back down and held her lanyard between her teeth while she grabbed her phone out of the waistband of her shorts.

“Why are we driving?” Stiles asked as they made their way through the parking lot towards where Finley’s Range Rover would be.

Finley laughed as she grabbed her car key, the lanyard now dangling by her side. “Because I really didn’t feel like having a half an hour walk into D.C. today. How were your other classes?” She asked while she unlocked her car once they got closer.

“Oh fine, pretty boring but I guess that’s how syllabus week goes,” he shrugged. “I’m sure you feel the same way about it though,” he shrugged while he hooked his free thumb under the strap of his backpack, just like he did in class earlier that morning.

Finley nodded as she popped the trunk of her car, throwing her lacrosse ball into the back before closing it. “Yeah, sylly week sucks,” she replied before opening the back door, “you can put your bag in the back with mine if you want. It’s a short drive but better than holding it.” She watched Stiles set his bag next to hers before he rounded the car to the passenger side.

“Smells like new car,” he said as he closed the door, watching as Finley turned the key and he felt hot air blow out of the vents. He waved the air away and reached out to turn the vents away from himself before turning to put his seatbelt on.

Finley reached out to her dashboard and turned the airflow off completely, “sorry about that,” she apologized. “But yeah, it’s really not that new. I’ve had it for almost a year now it was a birthday gift from my dad. My twin brother got a Wrangler.” Stiles found himself wondering more about Finley’s family life, her dad was a prominent government figure, it must put pressure on his kids and spouse, but the family seemed plenty well off to afford nice things. The sleek, black Range Rover he was currently sat in seemed to be a newer model, going by the touch screen mounted at its front. “So,” she looked out the rear-view mirror while she backed out of the spot, “what are you feeling for lunch, there’s tons of places the meal plan covers.”

Stiles found himself without an answer, he didn’t know the area well, and he really wasn’t all that sure what he wanted to eat. “Uhh,” he trailed off when he felt his phone vibrate and looked down to see a message from Lydia, right they were supposed to Skype later. He had gotten so wrapped up in trying to find all of his classes for the first time that he hadn’t been able to answer her messages all day. “Sorry!” He told Finley. “I’m not sure what there really is to eat around here, so whatever you want.”

“You good over there?” Finley watched as Stiles typed at an alarmingly fast pace, his body reeking of anxiety again while he overdramatically flipped his phone over, so it faced down on his leg that started to bounce nervously. He let out a long breath and she felt some of the anxiety get released from his body, his scent mellowing out significantly.

Stiles nodded, “girlfriend problems,” he mumbled. “It’s kind of too stressful to be dealing with a relationship right now, I feel very-” Finley heard him trail off, unsure of what the right word to use next would be.

“Tied down?” Finley asked as she turned on to the main road, flicking the air conditioning on again as she did. “Must be hard being away from her, how long have you two been together?” Finley wasn’t sure why she had asked the question. She found Stiles attractive, but she would never want to get in the way of anyone’s relationship. Especially if Stiles and his girlfriend were trying to navigate being away from each other and their freshman year of college at the same time.

Stiles started to anxiously drum his fingers on his thigh and Finley watched his motions out of the corner of her eye. He really never stopped moving, but maybe he had ADHD or something, she couldn’t judge. “A while, we just yeah, well a few months technically,” he tried off, “life gets complicated sometimes,” he finally spoke clearly. “Us getting together kind of feels like a blur if I’m being honest.” Finley would have to remember to store away that information to tell her dad later when she called him.

“Not everyone is going to have a solid timeline,” Finley shrugged as she parallel parked on the street. “My brother and his girlfriend,” she scrunched up her nose and Stiles couldn’t help but watch. It had been kind of cute, as much as he shouldn’t be thinking that when he was supposed to be making plans to Skype his girlfriend later that night. “They’re sickening,” she sighed as she turned her car off, “they’re at Notre Dame together actually, she plays lacrosse, and he plays football.”

Stiles opened his door and slid out, which had been easy since he was closest to the curb. “Oh, must be nice to be so close,” he spoke once Finley joined him on the sidewalk. She had both of their backpacks in her hands and gave him his. “Thanks. Anyway, where were you thinking for food?” He asked her as they started walking up the crowded street.

Getting to spend time in Washington D.C. for his FBI internship had provided Stiles with some time to explore the city, however, he only knew a very small area well enough to navigate his way around without a GPS or map. He had eaten at most of the same places for the time he had been there, and he really hadn’t gone past a two-block radius of his summer apartment.

“Oh right,” Finley pulled her Ray Bans up, so that they rested on her head while they walked. “You like burgers?” She asked Stiles. He hadn’t felt that hungry in his last class but at the mention of a good burger he felt his stomach rumble.

“A burger sounds good,” he nodded, his phone going off in his pocket like crazy. Lydia could wait until after lunch, he was still doing schoolwork technically. “So, you know this area pretty well then I’d assume?”. He wanted to make conversation outside of their project for class, he wanted to try and make new friends. He still loved Scott and the Pack of course, but he also knew he needed more than just his Beacon Hills friends to get through college and life after.

“I do, yeah,” Finley replied. She had been very focused on the sidewalk in front of her and hadn’t fully processed Stiles’ question for a few seconds, engrossed in her own world. “I grew up outside of D.C. in a really nice little suburb area, but I was always in my dad’s office or out causing trouble with Cian,” she replied. The twins were often known for causing trouble when they were younger, especially at CIA headquarters, everyone knew Maxwell Mannulv’s twins. She knew her dad hated having to raise two kids who also happened to be werewolves by himself for most of their lives, but they had turned out to be pretty good kids. In Finley’s opinion of course.

She felt Stiles’ eyes on her and turned to face him, “Cian’s your brother?” He asked.

“Yeah, my twin actually. Think of me but make it male and six foot four,” she laughed trying to easily describe her brother. They were almost splitting images of each other, auburn hair, freckles, bright blue eyes. If they had been the same gender, they most definitely would have been identical. Finley knew that she would be considered tall for a female by most at five feet nine inches; the males in her family, however, made her look short. “We were terrors when we were younger,” she smiled at the memories she had with her twin. They were mostly good memories, of course a few arguments and fights came into play, but they were nearly inseparable a majority of their lives. “Gave my dad a run for his money let me tell you, I mean my mom too, but my dad got us by himself when we were in prime asshole age.”

Stiles listened carefully as she spoke, trying to soak up all the information he could about hers that she offered, “yeah my dad thought I was a terror also when he had me at prime asshole age. Well and the last few years too, me and my best friend gave him a run for his money. My best friend’s mom too.” His dad and Melissa were godsends for dealing with him and Scott for as long as they did. Especially after Scott had gotten bit and they didn’t know what had been going on yet. Another thought popped into Stiles’ mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should ask the question he wanted to or no.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard,” Finley spoke as she stopped outside the door of a restaurant. The door read ‘Good Stuff Eatery’ and it looked cozy and welcoming inside. “You look like you want to ask something,” she added as she held the door open for Stiles to walk inside.

He quickly thanked her as he walked in, not sure what to say next. “I do- I just, don’t want to offend you?” It came out as more of a question and he wanted to punch himself for being so awkward, he had been getting better with it before he got to college. However, in the week he had been at American it seemed like all his progress had gone out the window.

Finley smiled as she slid into one side of a wooden booth, setting her bag down next to herself. “I’m sure you won’t offend me,” she looked at Stiles who tried to avoid eye contact, “that takes a lot. Trust me I grew up with a twin brother and all his friends and their crude humor.”

“I-” Stiles cut himself off again and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. “Did your parents get divorced and that’s why it’s just been you guys and your dad?” He asked slowly. He watched a new emotion flash across her face as she reached out for a menu but couldn’t read it when she handed him a menu with a shaky hand. Finley on the other hand could feel that Stiles started to feel slightly upset, but she couldn’t put her finger on what type of ‘upset’ he felt.

Finley swallowed when she heard Stiles’ question, it didn’t offend her she got asked about her lack of a mom often throughout her childhood, but she didn’t talk about her mom all that often. Let alone to someone who was basically a stranger. She flipped open the menu, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts when Stiles spoke again. “Umm, if it means anything,” he started before taking a shaky breath, “My mom umm, passed I guess is the right word, when I was ten.” She noticed that tears were forming in his eyes and reached out to rest her hand next to his but didn’t touch him. “She had umm, frontotemporal dementia.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat at his confession and knew if he had shared that information, she should also be able to share some information about her own mother’s passing. “Me and my brother were almost seven when our mom passed,” she sighed, “she worked in The World Trade Center, and yeah,” she pointed to the number ‘11’ on her sweatshirt’s arm, “September Eleventh,” she looked up to Stiles. “Now that the depressing stuff is out of the way,” she laughed, trying not to show that she was on the verge of tears. “Anything catching your eye?”

She watched as Stiles scanned over the menu, she already knew she would be getting her usual. “Uhm, damn that’s a long name,” Stiles laughed looking at the menu, “probably the Big Stuff Bacon Meltdown and fries.” Finley watched Stiles as he closed his menu and set it down on the table before she raised an eyebrow.

She had been eating at Good Stuff for years, she knew she had to talk him into getting a shake. “Okay good choice on the burger and fries,” she closed her own menu, “but you can’t come here and not get a shake,” she told him very matter-of-factly. “Like it’s basically a crime to not get one.” She watched as Stiles opened his menu again, looking for the milkshake section, reading over it quickly.

He set it down again before looking up to Finley, making eye contact with her for the first time. “Cookies and Cream?” He asked her. Finley nodded before standing up.

“I always get the coffee one, but my brother loves the cookies and cream shake,” she said as they walked to the front to order. “You can go first,” she nodded for Stiles to make his way to the register. After he ordered his things, and they slid his ID, Finley stepped up. “Can I please have a steakhouse burger, the village fries and a coffee milkshake,” she held her ID out for the man working to take. He grabbed it and slid it through the card reader before handing her a number. “Thanks,” Finley took her number and followed Stiles back to the table.

After they sat down Finley pulled her bag towards herself and pulled out her laptop while Stiles was clearly answering text messages. Finley was still able to pick up the fact that Stiles felt slightly upset and it hadn’t been her intention to upset him when she hesitated sharing information about her mom at first. “I’m sorry if I uhh, made you feel forced to share anything,” she said while she turned her laptop on.

“You didn’t!” Stiles assured her while he pulled out his own laptop after setting his phone down. “I just feel like if I’m able to make someone more comfortable in their own shoes by sharing something why not help?” He rested his cheek on his palm while he waited for his computer to finish turning on. She felt any sadness left in his body fade away when he cracked a small smile, the anxiety also leaving Finley’s body.

Finley nodded as she typed her pin into her laptop to unlock it. “It’s been however many years now and it still stings,” she sighed, “like that day every year at my house it’s always silent, no one functions, no one really talks to each other. It’s going to be weird being away from home for the first time.”

She watched Stiles as he looked at her over his laptop, he nodded as he typed something before speaking. “It’s really just my dad at home now too, so I think I felt guilty leaving more than anything.” He shrugged while he started to tap his fingers on the table in front of him. “My best friend back home, Scott, I’m sure he’s keeping an eye on my dad for now though. We grew up more as brothers if I’m being honest.”

Finley almost had an audible reaction to Stiles mentioning Scott for the first time, and the fact that they were basically brothers growing up, he had to know about Scott’s supernatural side. “He must be pretty special,” Finley nodded while she chewed on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “Having a tight knit friend group can feel pretty essential to like, surviving sometimes,” she laughed lightly trying to brush off her word choice as a joke. She hoped her play on words could worm even more information out of him.

“You could say that again,” Stiles Scoffed as he let out a long sigh. “Okay so he sent us that email like half an hour ago apparently,” Stiles looked up to Finley as his leg started bouncing under the table. “Sorry, I get a little- hyperactive after being stuck in classes all day with nothing else to do.” Finley just nodded absentmindedly as she opened the email herself, clicking on the attached word document and waiting for the file to download.

She saw the words ‘Introduction to Law: Case Study’ pop up on the screen and scrolled down past the cover page to read the case description. It fell silent between the pair while they both read the case information over.

‘The case you will be examining is based on an unsolved series of serial murders that occurs over a span of about twenty years. The case will remain unnamed by myself and within your preliminary court documents, your first part of this assignment is deciphering what well known case this is based off.’ Finley nodded and knew that they would be able to figure out what case they would be examining easier, and faster, than most groups due to both of their experiences. Finley’s reading was interrupted when a middle-aged woman brought their food over.

“Well hello Finley,” the woman spoke as she set down her usual order in front of her. “First couple weeks of eating college food already had you needing your fix in?” She asked leaning against the table next to Finley and Stiles.

Finley smiled as she ate a fry, “you know me too well Maggie,” she told the woman. “I’ll definitely be coming around more often though. I eat at the gym usually and there’s only so many eggs and grilled chicken salads I can eat.” She swallowed what she had in her mouth. “Oh sorry! This is Stiles, he’s my partner for one of my classes, and friend.”

Finley watched as Maggie waved to Stiles who still had not touched his food. “You been here before?” Maggie asked him.

“No, no! I’m from California actually,” he trailed off at the end. His anxiety levels were starting to rise again, and Finley sighed while she heard Maggie hum.

“Well,” she patted him on the shoulder while she started to walk away. “You’re very lucky you have this one to show you the ropes out here.” She winked at Finley whose eyes widened and she choked on her shake. Maggie really did know her too well sometimes.

Finley grabbed her water bottle and took a long sip before turning back to Stiles. “Sorry, 6that has a lot of pepper on it,” she cleared her throat. “Maggie’s been here forever, she knows my brother and I quite well.”

“That’s nice,” Stiles popped a fry in his mouth and Finley watched his eyes widen as he chewed it slowly. “Oh my god, these are amazing!” He said while he put another two into his mouth. Finley smirked while she took a bite of her burger, knowing she had made a good decision taking him here. She watched him pick up the burger and squish it down as much as he could before taking a bite. He set it down and gave Finley a thumbs up while he chewed.

Finley turned back to the case description and started reading out loud. “It says here,” she swallowed her bite of burger. “That ‘the case revolves around a series of bodies found along the North Shore of Long Island, New York.’ I hope you know it is very obvious what case this is already.” Finley told Stiles who just looked up at her confused while he shoved a few more fries into his mouth. “Google the LISK,” she said.

“The what?” He mumbled through a mouth full of food, wiping his hands on one of the brown paper napkins that sat in the middle of the table.

Finley laughed lightly, “The LISK? The Long Island Serial Killer, only one of the most iconic unsolved serial killer cases.” She told him. When Stiles still didn’t know what she had been talking about she sighed, “fine,” she mumbled. “Maybe I know too much about this stuff but just trust me and google it!”

“The way you were able to just know it was whoever this LISK is off the top of your head is slightly concerning,” Stiles tried to hide is smile behind his burger while he took another bite, the fingers on his free hand flying across his keyboard while he typed. “That and this is seriously amazing,” he told her. “And you can eat this whenever you want?”

Finley tried not to laugh while she took a sip of her milkshake, not wanting to choke on it, “to your first point,” she started. “I hyper fixated on serial killers for quite a few years, I’ve seen like any show out there about them I’m pretty sure. But me and my brother used to come here constantly, especially if we were visiting our dad at work,” she nodded. “I’ll show you other places too, we can like, try a new food place once a week if you want,” she shrugged. Stiles turned back to his laptop and clicked on something.

He shoved more fries into his mouth before starting to read with his food half chewed. “The Long Island Serial Killer,” he swallowed, “also referred to as LISK, the Gilgo Beach Killer or the Craigslist Ripper,” Stiles paused and made a face of disgust which made Finley laugh. “The Craigslist Ripper, that’s interesting,” he mumbled. “Anyway, they’re an unidentified suspected serial killer who is believed to have murdered 10 to 16 people over a period of nearly 20 years, mostly women who were associated with being prostitutes, and left their bodies in areas on the South Shore of Long Island, New York.”

“See,” Finley crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the booth, “I know my serial killers, he just flipped the shores for the project.” Stiles held his hands up.

“I didn’t say you didn’t!” He spoke in a voice slightly higher than his normal one. “It’s honestly interesting and disturbing at the same time and I can’t talk because my bedroom had a crime board in it for years and it’s still up.” She watched his eyes widen and he started to stutter. “I-I my dad’s the sheriff, so I get uhm, interested in some of his cases.” He rushed out.

Finley finished the last bite of her burger and nodded, “I mean, can be a valuable asset,” she shrugged, “it says here that we don’t yet know who the killer is, and it will be part of our grade to use the evidence provided and decide who we think the killer is. It will be part of our grade that we thoroughly attempt this, however, we won’t be penalized if we’re incorrect. A correct response through evaluation of evidence will result in a significant boost in our grade provided through extra credit,” she finished.

“Oh, we so got this!” Stiles held his hand up for a high five and Finley returned it with a smile before she closed her laptop. “Okay, want to meet on Friday?” Stiles asked. “We can start looking at all the information, breaking it down. It’ll be fun!” Finley sighed; she knew she had made plans to go to a party with her teammates on Friday night. The men’s soccer team had invited them, and she wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to go to her first college party. She also realized that Stiles didn’t really have any friends yet on campus and missing one party probably wouldn’t kill her.

“As long as we can order take out and do it in my suite,” she shrugged. “Because it is going to be dead by me most of Friday night,” Finley told him while she started to put her things away. She sighed as she noticed the time on her watch, she still had plenty of time until she had to be at lacrosse, but she still wanted a break, just for a day.

She felt Stiles’ eyes on her while he packed his own bag and looked over before raising an eyebrow. “You have a suite?” He asked her in slight disbelief. “A whole suite?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “And I have a single because my roommate decided not to come to school. It’s me and two other teammates in the other room. I made the two beds into a giant bed,” she laughed lightly as she watched Stiles’ jaw drop over dramatically.

He glared at her before shaking his head. “I am jealous,” he spoke as he stood up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “I’m in an actual dorm, roommate, communal bathrooms and all!” He laughed while Finley finished gathering her things and stood up, waving to Maggie while Stiles held the door open for her.

“I mean, sometimes it’s weird having my own room to myself but it’s also nice not having to worry about if I’m bothering someone or if they’re bothering me,” she shrugged while they walked down the street to her car. She looked over to see Stiles typing away on his phone, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth while he did, looking up every few seconds to make sure he didn’t trip. He obviously seemed very concerned with keeping his girlfriend happy and not going too long with leaving her messages unread. Finley had never understood the clingy girlfriend act, Cian and his girlfriend had been together since eighth grade, and they had never been weirdly clingy. Surely the full moon makes Cian a little extra possessive, but it never got the to the point of bothering anyone else in the house.

Stiles sighed and tucked his phone into his pocket once they had almost reached Finley’s Range Rover. “Sorry, Lydia is just, high maintenance sometimes,” he apologized. “I’m actually going to call her once I get back,” he opened the back-passenger door and put his backpack in, holding his hand out to take Finley’s also. She handed it to him and watched as he set it next to his own, making sure neither would be able to fall off the seat.

“Some girls are just like that,” Finley said once she had gotten into the driver’s seat. “And that’s where you decide if it’s worth it,” she drummed her fingers on the wheel to the ticking of her blinker while she waited for the street to clear enough for her to pull out. “I personally don’t get needing attention twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, but some people do.”

She felt Stiles’ gaze on her while she finally pulled out. “I- I love her,” he said, “I really do, I’ve had a crush on her since third grade and now I finally have her, but it just feels-”

“Not how you expected it to?” Finley finally looked over again to see him typing out another text message.

Stiles finished his message before sighing, “Sorry that was Scott not her,” he laughed lightly. “But yeah, I just- I’m not feeling it like I should be anymore.” Finley wasn’t sure what she should say, or if she should say anything at all. Instead, she waited to see if Stiles planned on continuing his line of thought. “I’m actually going to call Scott too, and my dad, ask them about it,” he ran his hands through his hair.

Finley smelled the anxiety radiating off him again, but this time it smelled different than when he had been nervous earlier, it smelled a lot more potent, and she couldn’t place her finger on why. She opted to crack the windows and let some of the stress filled air out before she breathed through her nose again. “It’s better to have a conversation about it before you act on it,” she nodded. “Sit on it for a little while, talk to her about it too. Air out your feelings,” she mumbled the last part.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be impulsive,” Stiles sighed as they pulled back into the parking lot. Finley pulled into the same parking spot as earlier and killed her engine. “Thanks for this afternoon,” he told her, opening the door, and hopping out.

Finley took her bag from him and smiled, “no problem, I love D.C. I’m always down to show people around!” The pair started walking towards the school again. “I’ve been out to California a few times, it’s really nice.”

“Yeah, but thank you for not thinking I’m weird, or too weird just to entertain. I just- I needed to start making friends out here and I’m glad I sat next to you in class!” He rushed the words out, only stuttering a little bit this time.

Finley just nodded along as he spoke, knowing that she should just let him finish his thoughts and not interrupt. “I’m quite glad you did too,” she replied, “I have lacrosse in a little while, so I’ll catch you in class Wednesday?” She asked once they reached the entranceway of her suite building.

“Yeah- yeah,” Stiles’ voice dropped slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack yet again. Must be a nervous habit. “Totally,” he offered an awkward wave as she walked into the glass doors.

Finley smiled after the doors closed and shook her head when she looked over her shoulder to see Stiles still outside. She playfully rolled her eyes before offering a wave over her shoulder. His eyes widened and he waved once more before turning around and leaving.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“No! You don’t get it!” Finley told her dad and brother through the computer screen, “he just, he smells so strong it isn’t natural!” She watched her father’s smile widen in amusement while Cian just rolled his eyes, thanking his girlfriend, Clara, as she handed him a water bottle.

“Freak,” Cian mumbled under his breath, hoping that the seal cracking on the water bottle would cover his voice, but Finley still heard it.

“Dad!” Finley whined at her brother’s word choice, hoping their father would tell him to shut up like he would when they were younger.

Maxwell rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked up, “Cian,” he sighed while his son just rolled his eyes. “Maybe you’re just hyper aware of what’s going on around you because it’s close to the full moon and it’s the first time you’re going to be away from home for it,” Maxwell spoke.

“Or maybe,” Cian leaned closer to the camera, “he’s your mate.” He sing-songed.

“Dad!” Finley yelled louder this time. She had heard about the concept of mates before; her father had been the one to tell the twins about it after Cian had met Clara and felt ‘oddly connected’ to her. If it was any other child, one who wasn’t a supernatural creature, he would have passed it off as hormones, but the twins were different.

Maxwell let out a long sigh before looking back at his kids, “Cian I’ll call you later, okay?” He asked the older of the two, “just, let me talk to your sister for now.” Cian didn’t have to be told twice and he stuck out his tongue at his sister before hanging up. “Now that I can actually talk to you.” Maxwell laughed while he settled more comfortably into his office chair.

“He’s not my mate dad!” Finley rushed out. “And he has a girlfriend!” She watched her father’s gaze soften slightly and leaned back into her bed more. “He’s smart too dad! Scott McCall is his best friend. He has to know about what he is!” There was no doubt in Finley’s mind that Stiles knew about Scott and the happenings around Beacon Hills.

Maxwell sifted through a few papers before pulling one out and holding it closer to his face so he could read it. “And his girlfriend’s a banshee,” he started chewing on the end of the pen he held in his right hand, it had been a habit Finley also managed to pick up over the years. “And his one ex-girlfriend is a werecoyote, and they’re pretty close with Derek Hale,” he looked up over his glasses. Finley looked at her dad, surprised. “So yeah,” Maxwell nodded, “he knows all about it, I’m sure.”

Finley rested her hands on her legs and cracked her back to try and avoid the awkward silence that fell between her and her father. “I-” Finley started, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. “All fair points,” she mumbled.

“Look Finley,” Maxwell set down the paper and sighed, “he’s a valuable resource, but what we’re fighting now, he needs to stay out of it.” Maxwell’s voice stayed firm while he spoke to his daughter.

Finley shook her head and sat up straighter, “but dad,” she started. “If we could get help from Scott McCall, another Alpha, and his pack, we’d be able to beat them. No questions asked!” Finley watched Maxwell pull on the ends of his hair.

“McCall sided with hunters, Finley. Do you know how dangerous it is to trust hunters?” He breathed out opening the file he had on Scott McCall in front of him.

“Chris Argent is hardly a hunter anymore!” Finley shot back. “You know that! He’s possibly one of the biggest human allies the Supernatural has and- and you’re passing up the possibility of having a direct line of communication to him!” It wasn’t unusual for the pair to argue about things concerning how Maxwell dealt with the supernatural, especially when his children’s lives were considered on the line. “I’m not a little kid anymore dad and you hired me to be a consultant. I’m going to give my opinion on these kinds of things!” She let out a long sigh of annoyance.

Maxwell leaned in closer to the computer and clearly saw his daughter’s stress filled frown and the tension pulling in her jaw. “I’m sorry, Finley,” he mumbled. “I just think it’s best to leave this alone until you come into the office again.”

“Whatever else happens between now and then isn’t my fault. I might be in college and busy with that now, but this job is still my main priority,” she told her father. “And until you learn to drop the protective dad act and actually approve me to investigate the things I need to, anything that happens with my cases is your fault.” She leaned forward and grabbed her phone off her desk, checking the time.

“Finley-” Maxwell started.

“It’s almost eleven dad and I need to be up early,” she offered him a lopsided smile. “I’ll text you in the morning.” With that she leaned forward and hung up on their call before flopping back on to her mattress. She had to figure out what else Stiles knew and if it required her breaking protocol, then so be it.

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