#but he ended up being the sweetest most tame mouse out of all the ones i’ve ever owned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ticklybtswriter · 5 years

Text

ler bts headcanons

author’s note: sclskmdclkscm this is going to kill me and i haven’t even started writing yet. -rosalie

jin

i like to think he’s soft yet ruthless

you know, like not quite full-fledged tickle monster (not until you piss him off, more on that later) but still knows how to wreck your shit

mostly does it when the two of you are just cuddling together

you’ll look really cute all curled up beside him and he can’t help himself

you are now victim to his tickles

he mostly goes for the soft tickles

he really just loves spidering his fingers over your stomach or nuzzling into your neck so you can squirm

likes to have you in his lap with his hands around your waist as restraints

MUMBLES TEASES IN YOUR EAR LIKE LKSMDLKSMDCLKMSD

��awww, where does my little lee think they’re going?”

“tickle tickle tickle ~”

little kisses across your stomach while you’re laying down

all i have to say about that

so, when you stupidly decide to piss this boy off

you are dead

he really enjoys tickling you so when you give him a reason to go all out, he relishes in that feeling

you’re on your back pinned down, he’s looming over you

you think he’s going to go for the rough tickles

but you’d be wrong

he just takes his fingers and softly trails them against your skin

after a few minutes of the agonizing softness, you’re practically begging him to just wreck you

“no, i think i’m good doing this. what do you think? maybe another thirty minutes of just this? yeah, sounds good to me.”

death hello?

see, a soft but cruel ler

yoongi

an evil ler

i don’t know what you want me to tell you

HE’S SO M E A N

he will always let you know that you’re enjoying his torture

“what do you mean stop? i know you like this, and so do you.”

for the most part, he’s a silent-type ler

like, he doesn’t tease you THAT often

mostly because the end goal for him is to have you physically spent

he really just likes to listen to your laughter and watch your face get red or have it just be plastered with pure mirth

it does something to him, really brings out his ler

he doesn’t really smile along with you, but is constantly smirking

that smirk just exudes evil, let me tell you

he lives for the perfect mix of soft and rough tickles

he loves the soft tickles when he wants you to just squirm and loves the rough when he wants your sweetest belly laughter

he seems like the kind of person to come back from the studio, tired as all hell and he’ll see you sitting on the couch and he’ll just walk over to you and wreck you because it actually really relaxes him

those are his favorite kinds of tickles

favorite place to tickle you is your thighs and i’m sure you can all decipher the reason

i’d beware if you’re a bratty lee, though because yoongi’s a brat tamer

you said something wild and he stared at you a minute with his intense gaze

he takes strides toward you, effectively backing you up against the wall where he takes your arms in one of his hands and holds them over your head and says, “you’re going to regret that baby girl/boy”

his brat-taming mood consists of sadistic tendencies of rough tickles, sometimes bondage if you’re moving too much for his liking, and overall just making it his goal to get you as close to the edge of your limits as possible without breaking them so he can do it all over again

once again, an evil ler i really want as my ler omg

hoseok

a very very tease-y ler

i’d say his probably the most playful of the seven while also being one of the most deadly

here’s why

opposite to yoongi who’s all about making you physically worn out, hoseok is one to aim to make your face as red as he possibly can

he consistently comments on how adorable you are when being teased

“why is your face so red, precious? i haven’t even started tickling you yet!! you should have that blush for when i actually get my hands on those cute hips of yours!!

he’s all about anticipation if you couldn’t tell

hoseok doesn’t even see it as evil but you know damn well that it is

he likes laughing with you

honestly he just really likes seeing you with this smile on your face, which is why he tickles you so often

to him, almost any moment is a tickle moment

like, he really will just tickle you all of the sudden, if it’s just a quick tickle to your neck, he’ll do it

if he’s in bed and you pass by him to grab something, you best believe he’s grabbing your waist, pulling you down on the bed with him, staddling you and then spidering away at your sides

you’re sitting at the table eating? his fingers are fluttering in your neck

don’t let this fool you though

just because he’s a usually calm and loving ler DOES NOT mean that he doesn’t have the power to absolutely wreck you

i know you all know that this mf can be downright scary when mad

that still applies to when you decide to provoke him

pins you down and gives you this E V I L smirk (like you know him to be the adorable ray of sunshine that he is so this is terrifying almost)

whatever your worst spot is, he dives for it with such vigor

your resolve to keep up the bratty act is washed away completely after he starts going to town on you

“awww, what’s wrong, cutie? you had such a tough act on earlier. where’d all that go, huh?”

his teases are 50x worse when he gets like this so good luck :)

teases

all i have to say

namjoon

aha have fun perishing

because here’s the thing, he’s another evil ler but i don’t think he’d start out that way if i’m being honest

i’d say he starts off pretty shy at first

like, he worries about pushing you too far so the majority of tickles in the beginning were just really cute and soft

ahahaha not any more

the entire time we was tickling you before, he was taking mental notes of how to properly wreck you

noticed which spots with which touches made you respond the best, noticed which teases worked best to make you blush, noticed all of the little things that made you squeal so adorably

that entire period of soft tickles was a ploy so that he could investigate all of the ways to tickle you so that were nothing but a giggly puddle at the end of your sessions

KING OF ROUGH TICKLES!!!

he’s good at soft where soft tickles are due, but he LOVES being able to go at your skin

makes you beg for it (he learned that having to ask for tickles makes you even more embarrassed so it’s obvious that the only say you’re going to get what you want is by having to plead for it)

“sorry, prince(ss), but i can’t give you want you want unless i hear you say that you want... what was the word again, prince(ss)?” “t-ti...” “what was that?” “t-ti-tickles.” “good girl/boy ~”

his teases are absolutely killer

“you can’t escape this, baby girl/boy~”

also always tells you how good you’re being and how cute your laughter is

the master of “don’t make me tickle you” and “i’ll go for your worst spot if you keep acting up like that” when you’re being pouty or bratty

but truthfully, you don’t want to be bratty with namjoon

punishment tickles with him are just as bad if not worse than they are with yoongi

the same rules of bondage and sadistic-ness still apply, but how would you feel when you can’t see what’s coming?

it definitely makes the electric toothbrush buzzing in your belly button and the feather against your neck come as a welcomed surprise, that’s for sure

A N Y W A Y S

just a very, very evil ler you don’t wanna cross

jimin

ahhhhhhhhhh this sneaky, mischievous ler

you are playing a deadly game with him my friend

a game in which you are the mouse and he is the cat

he is constantly toying with you while in public

“wouldn’t it be a shame if i were to just tickle you right here at this party? imagine how cute everyone would find your sweet laughter.”

the worst he’ll actually do though is flutter his fingers against your chin though

because what jimin likes to do is fluster you and get you in a lee mood and then leave you there

apparently the waiting “does you good”

takes you in his lap- after a bit of struggling to escape because you know what’s about to happen- and starts attacking you in every spot his fingers can reach while leaving little nibbles against your neck

he’s all for the soft tickles and teases like hoseok

mostly because he’s enamored with your light, melodious giggles as opposed to your loud belly laughter

if he removes his arms from around you, do not leave, it is a trap

this is where the cat and mouse thing comes into play because he pretends to let you leave but the moment you make it a few feet away, he’s chasing you like his life depends on it

he lives to chase you, seriously he does

he loves seeing you scramble for an escape even though you both know the inevitability of the situation

once he finally catches you, he drags you back to your bed and pulls you in his lap and is like, “that wasn’t very nice, running away like that!! i’d say this earns you a punishment.”

you’re going to be stuck there for quite some time, congratulations (i say that sarcastically and sincerely)

but cuddles after!! and lots of hugs!!

i wouldn’t say he’s as villainous as yoongi and namjoon when you provoke him, but he isn’t someone to trifle with either

like, sure, he’s one of the sweetest lers out of all of them, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be totally mean the second you test his patience

really, it’s a fucking switch between soft boi to menacing ler

“keep doing that, baby girl/boy, and i’ll keep you laughing for hours when we get home. hmm, i might even bring out the tools. let’s see how you keep up after i put a feather duster against that cute tummy of yours.”

you definitely keep misbehaving and it’s definitely worth it... at first

he kept true to his word before he made it infinitely worse than you imagined

yeah, don’t fuck with the mischievous ler that is jimin

taehyung

everyone underestimates tae but i think that he is the evilest ler

he’s unsuspecting

like, he has this facade of being this playful guy with his boxy smile and his cute laugh

but that’s just a cover-up because beneath all that is fucking merciless, torturous ler whose only goal is to make sure you’re an incoherent mess

imagine this: absolutely ruthless tickles while being genuinely smiled at. not a smirk, like a genuine smile. this boy loves- really really really loves- have you endlessly squirming and full-out laughing

there’s just something about seeing him so happy at your torture that makes you so red in the face

also, he loves your blush oh my god does he love it

“ahhh, y/n~ never stop that adorable blush!!”

he doesn’t tease as much as jimin or hoseok, but his teases are pretty fucking bad when they do

“it’s tickle time, my lee!”

attacks you every chance that he can get, even if it’s inconvenient for you while not doing anything to actually infuriate you

like if you’re on the phone with a friend, he can and will start pinching at your sides so you’re forced to hold in your laughter

HIS BIG HANDS!!

THEY ARE THE BEST AND THE WORST!!

don’t imagine them running up and down your sides, across the soles of your feet, softly grazing the skin of your neck, totally squeezing away at your sides while he’s just smiling at you

taehyung doesn’t give you tickles if you’re bratty

he knows that it’s what you really want so he’ll make you beg before he even considers wrecking you

he even got you to say, “i’ve been a bad girl and i don’t deserve tickles” just at the mention of possibly giving you what you want

it took a while and he finally gave in

but not without the price of your sanity, because unlike yoongi and namjoon, he will break you past your limits if you angered him enough

wow, i really just put myself in a mood with this guy i-

jungkook

a two-sided ler

one side, the soft, loving maknae

the other, the lee-wrecker

firstly, his soft side doesn’t mean soft tickles

he still wrecks you but he’s extremely playful and teasy

smiles with you

pokes you in the sides, then acts like he didn’t before he does it again, claiming that if you don’t stop squeaking like that, he’ll have to do something about it

“hey, stop trying to move away like that! i’m not finished with you yet!”

ALWAYS pins you down because he knows that the difference in strength between the two of you really makes you blush

he utilizes his strength often when tickling you

deals with pouts in a playful way, which, i know, is very different from the others but i just think he saves his dominating personality for his other kinds of tickles

his lee-wrecking side isn’t hard to come by

in fact, it isn’t even caused by you acting bratty; most of the time it’s after a particuarly draining or frustrating day that you’ll see his true tickle monster

did i mention that he makes him call you that all the time? because when he is tickling you, he is no longer jungkook and is now the tickle monster, sorry not sorry

“y/n~ the tickle monster isn’t pleased with how you’ve been acting. you know, he’s actually kind of hungry right now. come here, little bunny~”

b-back to the evil maknae

he doesn’t go all out when he gets in his moods like the others, but he definitely likes to let you know that he’s the one in control here

is pretty quiet these times save for a few teases here and there as well as a constant smirk

“i love you like this, you know. all ticklish and compliant”

goes to every spot EXCEPT your worst because he wants you to wait for the grand finale

when he gets there, it’s game over sorry

he’s very double-sided so good luck :)

ot7

if you have all of them as your lers, i’m so, so sorry to say that i will be attending your funeral

seriously, when all seven of them know, there is not a moment in your time with them where you aren’t crying tears of mirth

because now, there are seven people with the same end goal: to have you tickled to absolute pieces

jungkook is the one who holds you down because that rule still applies even with six others

jimin and hoseok continuously tell you how much you love it as they scribble at your feet

jin and taehyung giving you the most wicked raspberries because of their vocalist lung support you know

OOF namjoon and yoongi? the ones who FIGURE IT OUT AGAIN

like i'm so sure that they're the ones who tell the others about your secret and spill all of your worst spots to the others rhwkennw

constant fights over who can wreck you best

cuddle nights while watching a movie quickly take a turn because jungkook decided to pull you into his lap and start going to town

this, of course, meant that every other ler in the room wanted in on the action

the movie is quickly forgotten and you are quickly at the center of the seven tickle-hungry men

“awww, look how red they are!!”

“wait, did you hear that little noise?” “yes!! jin, do what you just did!! i have to hear that again!!”

“you know that you’re having fun, prince(ss)!! stop trying to hold back that precious smile!!”

teases are never short in supply so neither is your blush

if they’re on tour or you’re just separated from them, you best believe that jimin was able to persuade the boys into bombarding you with tickle-related texts, voicemails, and pictures to get you in a mood

they love it because he makes seeing you again even more of a treat

it makes the drive to see you when they return all the more

look, i’m going to give it to you straight

if you want to live, you will not, i repeat WILL NOT act like a brat with them

even if you act that way to just one of them, that person WILL contact all seven so that they can destroy you

“you were being bad sweetie?” “it’s going to be a very, very long night.”

now i want you to imagine getting gang-tickled by all of them

got that? good, now multiple that times ten

getting punished with tickles by them is G O O D B A D

the teases are soooooooooooo amazing but blush-inducing

constantly letting you know that the only person to blame for your situation is yourself and also constantly telling you that you’re the most adorable person on the planet

“you’re so cute like this, y/n, being tickled by me and my hyungs.” cue everyone nodding in agreement at jungkook’s words

there is no getting them to stop unless you use the safeword (there’s no fun in that though)

let’s end on a soft note!!

they love using nicknames in their tickle sessions with you, their favorite being “our little lee” and “our ticklish baby girl/boy” that last one hit me omg

overall, they love you so much and tickling you is just a big plus because they get to see you with a smile on your face nearly 24/7

author’s note: ajdjjnjsdfnljsdfnk;jsdfn ahhhhhhh i might make some full fics of some of these scenarios if anyone’s interested (but i might be deceased after writing the ot7 headcanons so we’ll see if i survive) -rosalie

121 notes · View notes

notquitejiraiya · 5 years

Text

Chess [23] - {ShikaTema AU}

Hey there, it’s me, back again with a long-ass chapter.

Little right now that there’s some implied smut here (the overhyped and probably disappointing table scene). Nothing explicit or intense, just something. It’s kinda fluffy and not too thirsty. But, if that bothers you, here is your warning. I think it’s pretty tame and it’s fairly clear where that section occurs :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

[READ / COMMENT on AO3]

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Milk, no sugar, Temari sipped on her tea slowly, staring down that the blank screen of her phone and the empty tub of reheated pasta she’d brought in. All she could do her entire lunch break was stare and hope, waiting for a buzz or a ring and for his name to pop up on the screen.

Discontented, she opened her phone again and examined the message that she had sent earlier that morning, and in turn the lack of response, and her head grew fuzzy as the smile spread across her face.

‘Hi. Thank you again for last night.’

Barely a line of text, just a simple sentence; it didn’t express at all how she really felt at this point in time. How happy she really was to have spent her evening with him and it having ended nicely; how awful she felt knowing that she was inherently letting down her boss and her integrity; how incredible it was to have him hold her in the park, kiss her outside her home, no matter how cold it was; how her desire to help him had only grown and she could do so little about it.

With a sigh she flicked off her phone and put the empty tub to the side, drawing closer the keyboard on her desk. She groaned, absentmindedly switching on the computer and resting her head in her hands.

How was she going to help him? She’s told him she had a plan, and somehow he’d believed her, but in reality she had no clue. Yes, the road block that he had to tackle before he could feel at peace with the past and what he did for people was clear—he had to understand that he wasn’t causing anyone any suffering by being upset, and that grieving was always okay. But he also had to come to terms with the passing of time, and she knew it wasn’t the man’s death that haunted him most these days. He’d told her it was his own feelings, and how he didn’t deserve to feel that way; how he didn’t deserve to cry when a woman had been left alone without her husband, and a little girl born without her father.

He had to learn, somehow, that he had every right to be sad. He had to learn that others forgive and that others understand.

But how on earth was she going to do that when the person at the heart of this all was not only a stranger to her, but had been gone almost seven years?

Her fingertips danced across the keyboard, opening the database of the practice’s clients and searching for the lady she knew would be walking through the door in five minutes, when suddenly, upon scrolling over her name she stopped.

The name appeared twice, and Temari only knew which was correct by the age in brackets beside her name, but she knew of no other lady of that name that she had seen.

“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes widening, “I can see all of them. Not just mine...”

On a whim, she hurried to type the only name that was circulating in her mind right now, immediately it flashed up: Shikamaru Nara. All of the tiny notes she’d attached to his file herself—for her viewing only, hidden from the other psychiatrists who worked here—flew up across the screen, the same name littering eight percent of the page.

Asuma Sarutobi.

So on a whim, she typed it into the database, and pressed enter with a huff watching as Shikamaru’s file vanished and was replaced with a blank page beside three depressing words:

No results found.

“Obviously,” she groaned as she backspaced and twisted her hair around her fingers, chewing on her lip. “What about…surely not…”

After taking a sip of her tea she simply typed his last name, wondering if Shikamaru was wrong - it was Asuma was a middle name or nickname, after all.

She almost didn’t search it. Why would his teacher—who sounded perfectly sound of mind from Shikamaru’s vague, but greatly understandable descriptions—have a therapist? And much more so, why specifically hers? It would have to be the most ridiculous chance if his name did appear, and even if it did there was no way for her to access his file unless she asked someone else, and just this morning she’d asked for the paperwork to sign Shikamaru out of her professional care and it was starting her down from her in-tray behind the computer. He wouldn’t be a valid excuse, she’d just look like a nosy bitch.

But what did she have to lose if she clicked enter? She could live with the same feeling of nothing again, that’s for sure.

So she did it, and to her amazement and almost her horror, she got one result.

‘Kurenai Sarutobi (née Yūhi) - 38’

Temari couldn’t stop staring, in shock mostly. Her brain whizzed and whirred hoping that maybe she’d get the courage to click on that link and view what little she was allowed to see—see if there was anything at all that linked this person to the situation she was searching for answered to.

Just as her mouse began to hover, her phone suddenly began to buzz and she jumped out of her skin, clicking the name without meaning to. With quivering fingers she lifted the phone to her ear, stunned into silence.

“Tem?”

It was him and his dumb, raspy, deep voice that sent shivers down her spine. As if this situation couldn’t get any more twisted, he just had to go and ring her now.

“Temari, are you there?”

“Yes, sorry!” she replied, forcing a laugh. “I was just looking at something. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Shikamaru snorted down the end of the line, chuckling. “Nothing. I left my phone at Chōji’s last night—only just grabbed it. I’m on lunch.”

“So am I.”

There was a pause. Had he really just called to hear her voice? If so, as sweet as that might’ve been, Temari did have to admit she had something else on her mind right now.

“So you’re definitely okay, Shikamaru?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I meant to say thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” She was so glad that this was a phone call—she could feel herself getting flustered the more he spoke. “Was that all?”

“Desperate to get rid of me, are we?” The hint of sadness seeping through the sarcasm of his tone left her feeling slightly evil. “One more thing: are you busy tonight?”

Temari winced. “I’ve not been in two nights in a row, and Kankuro will be threatening to follow me if I go out again, for sure,” she smiled, hoping he could hear the apology that she had meant to say just in her tone. Her mind was elsewhere. More precisely it was exactly where her eyes were, set on this name. “Hey, do you know a ‘Kurenai’?”

The silence on the other end was eerie, and she could hear faint babbling of other people on the street instead of him. He must’ve been smoking, and she must have stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Shikamaru?”

“Um, sorry. Yeah. Kurenai was Asuma’s wife’s name.” He cleared his throat. “Why?”

“No reason,” lied Temari, jotting down the name and address that sat on her screen, the only information provided without authorised access.

“That’s so clearly a lie, Tem.”

“It isn’t a lie,” she chirped. “Just forget I asked.”

“Coincidence’s like that don’t just happen...”

“Shikamaru, are you busy Saturday?”

His deep laugh echoed down the phone. “Don’t try and steer me away from the subject, Tem, I—”

“I said,” she spat, toning up the harshness a little to much, “are you busy Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday,” she repeated. “I’m pretty sure Kankuro is spending the weekend with his girlfriend at her place, so he won’t be around.” She carefully set her pen down and nibbled on her thumbnail nervously as she continued. “I thought maybe you’d want to meet my other brother?”

“The non-Kankuro one, right?”

“Yes, the one that you spoke to on the phone.”

Again, Shikamaru paused, but not nearly for as long this time. “I don’t know,” he finally said, his monotone voice firmly back. “I mean, I’ll see you but—”

“Okay,” she rushed. “No, then. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet him, I just—”

“It’s fine,” she spat. “We can just do something else.” Temari’s eyes fell to her lap. “If you actually want to.”

“Of course I want to.”

Five words and her spirits lifted instantly. It didn’t make her feel any less of an idiot, but she definitely felt her efforts weren’t totally futile. As she stared down at her notebook and the name and address scrawled on the page, her mind flew from side to side with the craziest of ideas—something that he knew she would hate, something he would never agree to in a million years, just like she’d lied to him about already deciding to do.

Instantly, her mind was made up.

“I’ve got a plan for us,” she smirked, hoping he wouldn’t hear the mischief lingering in her tone. “Secret plan, but a plan. You don’t have to think.” She quickly searched the address she’d written down on the internet, and frowned. “Can you drive?”

She could hear him blow near the microphone what she assumed was smoke. “Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a car?”

“No.”

Shit, she thought. “Do your parents have one?”

“They do. Why?”

Shikamaru was getting suspicious of her—she could tell—so, in the sweetest voice she could muster without sounding ridiculous, Temari made her final play; asked her final question: “Can you borrow it on Saturday?”

“Sure.”

That was too easy.

“I’ve, um…” She heard rustling on the other end and a bell jingle. “I’ve got to go.”

Temari stretched a smile across her face. “Okay. Shall I text you later?”

“If you want to,” he chuckled, unbothered. “Go for it.”

Mixed messages, dumb-ass, she pondered. Good job I know what you’re like by now.

“Right,” he added, the word loaded with finality. “See you later.”

She almost whispered through her smile into the microphone. “Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.”

When the line went dead, Temari could barely believe the situation was real. Here she was with the name and address of the woman who Shikamaru felt so obliged to help and ashamed of himself that he never actually did; the person who might actually help him see that there’s good in the world, and show him how people can let things go and that they understand. She knew it would be intruding on personal space, but she knew it had to be worth a shot. Worst case scenario: if the woman turned out to be really rude and horrible, they could take away from the experience that she probably didn’t deserve the help he offered her.

But what else seemed surreal was Shikamaru. When he joked with her and listened to her, she couldn’t help but picture the obnoxious young man she’d first met, so skinny and scrawny she couldn’t believe he was an adult. After just under one month he’d come so far; he looked so much healthier as though he’d eaten more and better, and generally had a much healthier attitude as far as she could tell. But Temari couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t her efforts as his psychiatrist that had made much of a difference to that. What was affecting him, helping him, seemed to be what she’d done for him as a friend, or whatever she was to him now.

Helping people in whatever way was good, she knew that deep down, but she couldn’t do this with everybody or else she’d wear herself out. She had become a therapist to help everyone, lots of people, and she had to do it the right way.

It was time to put aside all her thoughts of Shikamaru Nara when she was in this room.

So, vowing to finally adhere to her professionalism, she clicked shut the file of Kurenai Sarutobi and quickly skimmed the page of the lady about to walk through her door. She tore the page with the info she’d jotted down from her notebook and slipped it into her bag, knowing that she had all the time in the world to figure the logistics of that out in her own time.

She reached behind her computer and signed the papers to end his time as her patient, and it was if something clicked in her brain as she slid the paperwork into her out-tray. Each hour, from now on, was totally dedicated to whoever was on that couch and not some lanky, handsome genius smoking outside of the florist.

Just in time, Temari slid her phone in her bag, and a gentle rapping on the door told her to lunch was definitely over.

“Hi!” she called out. “Come on in!”

~~~

“I’m leaving,” Shikamaru called out to Ino upstairs, stashing his apron behind the counter on the shop floor. “Chuck me my coat!”

“Get your own coat!”

“Ino, it’s pissing it down outside! Give me my coat!”

After a short moment of waiting, the coat tumbled down the stairs and he smiled. “Thanks,” he said, grabbed the coat and throwing it on. “See you later.”

If she did reply, he didn’t wait around to listen; he was out of that door as quickly as he could be. It wasn’t that he was desperate to be in the rain, or even that he was desperate for the cigarette that he habitually slotted between his lips, but after a long day, as soon as the clock struck four-thirty, he was ready for fresh air to hit his face. Plus, he couldn’t be roped into closing up shop again.

As he hurried to light his cigarette, Shikamaru just so happened to glance up and across the street, curious if his favourite overprotective carpenter was mulling around by the window as he had been on Shikamaru’s lunch break. And, as if by magic, there he was, raking his hands through his brown hair and looking straight into his eyes.

Upon finally lighting his smoke and puffing out a large cloud into the cold air, Shikamaru shot the man a subtle smile, raising his hand—half-arsed—in recognition.

As with Ino, he didn’t wait around to see his response—he wasn’t sure he wanted to—but he new two things instantly as he started walking along the pavement. The first was that he wished he’d taken up Temari’s offer to meet Gaara, knowing how pissed Kankuro would inevitably be and how amusing it would be for him, if a little scary. The second was more important for this precise moment; his coat had no hood or waterproofing, and it really was pissing it down.

Shikamaru rooted around the inside pocket of his coat with his spare hand, never sacrificing a moment of extra warmth that each drag of his cigarette gave him over that task, and searched for loose change which he was sure he’d accumulated over time. He pulled out a monstrous four-pound-sixty.

Enough to get me home, he noted, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans and continuing his walk to the bus stop.

By the time he got to the bus stop, the cigarette he desperately clung to was on it’s last legs, and he put the tube to rest under his foot as he fell back onto the seat of the shelter. In his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he slowly pried it out from his pocket, rolling his eyes.

Ino: ‘U sure walk slow for some1 in the rain x’

‘I’ll paint that window black one day, Ino.’

Shaking his head, he quickly checked Temari’s number, something deep in his gut wishing that any second his phone would buzz in his hands and he could hear her voice again. He felt stupid for it, but he couldn’t help himself typing a pathetic ‘Hello’ and staring it, unsent in his message box.

“Hey, kid!”

His head shot up, and right there stood the bus and a red-faced old man at the wheel, leaning toward him.

“You getting on or what?”

Sheepishly, Shikamaru hauled himself up and onto the bus, emptying the change into the drivers hand and shoving his phone and the ticket he received into his inside pocket when he flopped back into his seat near the front. His fingertips brushed against the silver lighter that always loomed in that pocket, and a shiver, as if he hadn’t expected it, made stuck the hairs on the back of his neck on end as he enveloped it in his palm carefully.

When he took it from his pocket, he examined it as he always did; running his thumb along every smooth edge, across the curved top and flicking it open. For a second he stared at the place from which the flame should burst from—a flame he had never dared to ignite—but all too soon, as though he wasn’t controlling his own hand, the young man flicked it shut once again.

Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause.

Countless times he had sat in his garden and stared at that lighter, lifeless and unlit, and felt it burn his hand until he could look at it no longer. Sometimes he’d even been unable to look at it, but despite that he’d never go anywhere without it in his pocket. He had to; most of the time it was more of a comfort blanket to him than anything he’d ever owned, and in any moment of unease he reached for it without thinking, which always lead to the same repetitive pattern.

Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause.

He wasn’t sure that anyone really understood what it meant to him to own it or why it was so precious to him, and as he sat on that bus seat he was sure the noise was bothering countless people. At the same time, however, he didn’t care. What had triggered his need to fiddle with it’s lid he wasn’t sure, but the action certainly accompanied the slightly uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Admittedly, it was probably nerves as to why Temari had been so vague earlier, and why she’d asked about the things she did, the person she did…

He felt his shoulders tightening as he remembered her sad face, and as the bus came to a stop Shikamaru opened the lighter one final time. Asuma, he thought to himself, I’m so sorry…

“Shikamaru? Shikamaru Nara?”

Click.

The voice was so soft he’d barely managed to recognise it, but as he lifted his head with the lighter shut firmly and tight in his fist, the was no denying it. He gulped and hopped to his feet without thinking, his eyes too permanently set on the woman before him and the little pair of legs that hid behind hers.

This is a cruel joke, universe, he thought as he stared down into the eyes of Kurenai Sarutobi, rife with mixed emotion and clearly as unsettled as he was. The little hand she gripped in her own left him speechless, and his mouth fell open as the little girl peered around her mother and up at him.

Quietly, as she tugged on Kurenai’s sleeve, she whispered, “Mummy, who’s that?” But her mother was equally as speechless as the young man before them. Her eyes fell down to the lighter in his hands and she sighed, her lips parting slowly.

He knew what she was about to say, and there was no in way he could stomach it.

With too much haste Shikamaru shoved the lighter back into his pocket and, mouth moving silently as it tried to form any word whatsoever, he slipped passed her, shaking his head sadly.

 “S’cuse me!” he called to the driver. “Hello, can I get off please?”

“This isn’t your stop, son,” the older gent laughed. “Your ticket says—”

“Please.”

The driver frowned at him as he fumbled for the button to open the door, and Shikamaru shot him a thankful look as he hurried off the bus and into the rain. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and chewed on his bottom lip as each freezing cold droplet smacked him in the face. Moments ago fingering the lighter in his pocket was calming, a charm if you will, and yet in the last few minutes he’d felt like throwing it in every bin he sped past as he walked. He didn’t deserve it.

The little girl, he thought to himself. That little girl…

All these years he had been right: he really was too much of a coward to face a seven-year-old.

The old man was right—his stop was nowhere near here—and it was so wet he could barley function. And, worst of all, he was alone, and he knew himself too well—he’s had too many therapists—to deny that the one thing he couldn’t be was alone right now. But where was he? Almost nothing was familiar except for one huge tree he could see at the end of the street ahead—that tree was at the end of the road of her practice.

“No,” he told himself bitterly. “You can’t burden her with this. She isn’t your therapist anymore, asshole.”

But he had to! His entire body compelled him to, as though his mind wasn’t the boss of him anymore and it couldn’t decide when he took a step or whether he edged closer to the road’s edge. It was his gut that was in charge now—a complete anomaly in his boring, repetitive life—and it was going to drag him to Temari whether he wanted it to or not. Somehow, he knew what he needed. Screw enjoying the silence, and screw burdening his ex-therapist with all of his crap, she was also important to him; a friend at the very least.

If he had to choose the rush that came with seeing and listening to Temari, whether he told her the truth or not, or the inevitable feeling that would drown him if he went home and hid away in his room, the choice was obvious.

He’d drowned himself in his sorrows, or swallowed them down, too many times to count. It was his turn to be selfish.

Despite the cold his cheeks grew hot, a concoction of hot tears and embarrassment flooding them. He drew to a halt, his feet landing in a puddle. Each droplet of water pelted into his eyes, blinding him, and it forced him to look down. Just out of interest he checked the time, and it was only four-fifty. Shikamaru knew from experience that her last session lasted until five, and with any luck she would still be in that room; with an extra heap of luck on top of that, if he ran, he could make it there in ten minutes.

Then he simply had to hope that the fifteen pennies he had left in the pocket of his jeans was enough to convince the lady at reception to let him through to her.

~~~

Temari wasn’t ready for the door to fling open as she started packing her bag. And when she turned around to tell whoever it was that she would do whatever they wanted from her tomorrow, she definitely wasn’t prepared for this.

He stood before her, dripping from head to toe with windburned cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. Somehow he looked like he’d been chased, but by what she couldn’t even begin to imagine. For a moment she suspected Kankuro, but as she looked properly she could see the bloodshot nature of his eyes, and her heart began to pound faster and faster.

There was a puddle developing on the wooden floor he stood on underneath his boots, but he didn’t seem to care. Chest expanding and contracting rapidly, Shikamaru flashed her an impossibly believable smile and couldn’t take his eyes off of her, as if his life depended on it.

For all she knew about him, maybe it did.

“Shikamaru?” she gasped, immediately dropping her bag into her desk chair. “What’s wrong—what’re you doing here?”

He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes, wiping some of the water away.

“You’re soaking wet!”

“I’m fine,” he sighed, throwing his sopping wet coat off onto the couch with a thud. Even his awful flowery uniform was stuck to him and despite the desire to stare below his neck, Temari watched his eyes closely. “Busy day?”

“Yeah…I was, er, just going home,” she stumbled, trying not to smile and ending up gaping. Something was wrong here; she couldn’t forget that. “You can’t be here, you know?”

“I know.”

“They know you’re not my patient anymore. How on earth did you get in here?”

He bit on his lip, unwinding his scarf from around his neck; ten shades darker from the rain. He looked like he’d been crying, but she didn’t know if that was just the rain. “I said it was urgent and the lady at reception said she was just about to go home. I don’t think she could be bothered to stop me.”

Temari still couldn’t close her mouth. “What the hell are you doing here?” Quickly she sped towards him and put her hands on his shoulders. “You aren’t feeling really low again, are you? If you are you’ve got to tell me.”

He shook his head, but it didn’t hide the red around his eyes. “I thought I was,” he lied, “but to be honest I just wanted to see you.”

“I said I’d see you on Saturday.”

“Saturday isn’t now.” He blushed as one of his hands held hers against his shoulder as he turned his head, looking out of the window. “Can we shut that?”

“Why?” Temari grew a little rigid and stepped backwards, never taking her gaze from him. Carefully she pulled the binds down and cocked her head to one side.. “You’re not paranoid now, too, are you?”

Shikamaru’s face contorted into the most wonderful smile she had ever seen. “Temari?”

“Yeah?” Her cheeks flushed, just knowing he had a smile like that for her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It was as though, in a matter of seconds, his eyes changed and he sped towards her before she could think to say anything else. His hands captured her waist as he crashed his lips into hers, taking the spark that ignited in her eyes the closer he grew as his permission, and she did nothing but granted it. Temari’s arms flew around his neck and hooked themselves firmly in place. It was so full of rough, passionate urgency, especially on his part, that she barely noticed herself climbing onto her tip toes, desperate to be closer to him.

Neither of them, now that they’d felt it, could bear to lose the genuine, harsh passion and stack of feelings this brought. Stopping wasn’t an option—neither did they want it to be.

Temari weaved her fingers through the edge of his hairline until her composure began to vanish, and she started to tug gently on tiny handfuls. She could feel herself melting at his every time his hands traced up and down hers sides gently, from the top of her torso to her lower hip. His fingertips lingered at her hips, almost but never quite hooking underneath the waistband of her skirt on their way.

The more she pulled at his hair and absentmindedly ground her hipbones against him, the more the need for her grew inside him. Without thinking he let his hands run down her thighs and lifted her, and to his surprise her long legs tightened around his waist.

Suddenly could feel it all at once—all of him and the desire that had been building for so long in full force, and her heart pounded faster in her chest with the same want that rampaged through his eyes.

“Put me on the table,” she commanded through the kisses. “Right fucking now.”

Without hesitation, Shikamaru did as he was told and immediately his thumb teased open the top button of her blouse.

“You’re a tease, Nara,” she whispered, her hands shamelessly pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“I try to be.”

“Shut up and take my damn shirt off, flower boy.”

In seconds the buttons were undone and her shirt at their feet, and the sudden hit of cold air felt like nothing under his hot breath. Shikamaru followed in hot pursuit, undoing only a few buttons before throwing the ghastly floral shirt to the ground.

As stared at what he was luck enough to have before him, Shikamaru’s heartbeat quickened. He felt almost like he was going to faint as she grabbed his shoulders in her soft hands, her cheeks growing redder by the second from the heat and anticipation. The darkness of the room didn’t matter; the little light from the lamplight was enough to illuminate her for him, and the radiance that shone from behind her eyes stopped him dead for a moment. He began retrace his steps, even more delicately touching her sides than before, lingering longer on her lower abdomen and ribs than she last remembered.

Although, it easily could’ve been her impatience taking hold of her once more.

“Tem, can—”

“Don’t,” interrupted Temari, her impatience and lust driving her body. “Don’t you dare—just do it.”

He reached round back and fiddled with the clasp of her bra, desperate to dispose of the cloth that blocked what his hands desired, all the while too greedy to break their kiss again. Shikamaru couldn’t help it. He wanted every breathe to be taken with her, touching her, holding her close. As he finally set free the clasp and threw the final garment to the floor, he pressed himself right against the table, feeling Temari’s arms tighten around his neck as one of his hands finally took hold of what it wanted.

“How’s this,” he mumbled into their kiss, “for unethical?”

Temari didn’t even bother humouring him with an answer, simply unhooking her arms from his neck and letting them travel down his chest as he chewed on her lip, fighting back gentle moaned. She could feel his body relax and quiver the lower her fingertips grazed, and the broken breaths he took were too much for her to handle. Reluctantly he let her lip loose from his teeth and Temari let out a soft hum.

And with that she just let him. She let his hands roam, his lips pepper her jawline until she pushed him down her neck. She allowed his fingertips to pull at the hem on her skirt, ride it up and push her back. With every movement he made, she felt important. In no way was this the slow and sensual situation she’d mulled over in her mind last night, full of kind words and affection—it didn’t need to be. It was raw, it was real and it was them, exactly how she wanted it to be.

Never in his life had Shikamaru wanted something so much—someone so much—as when he pulled away from the kisses he placed across her abdomen to look down at her on that table. And when she sat up and her hands tore through the fastener of his jeans, he, too, had no objection. Nor could he object when her legs flew around his waist once again and he felt at once her exact feelings.

Temari couldn’t handle the way his breath danced against her neck, and how his deep moans fluttered to her ear. Even how his hair fell free and caressed her bare skin drove her crazier with every motion he made.

And Shikamaru certainly couldn’t take the way she said his name, almost silently, or the way her fingernails scratched at his back desperately.

It was like nothing either of them had felt before. They didn’t need to go slow, and they didn’t need to rush. As they continued, scaling higher and higher toward their moments of ecstasy, neither of them even patient enough to fully undress, the pair felt liberated. A weight of frustration finally reaching the point at which it could drop, crash, and release it’s havoc upon the both of them. And they were not going to stop it.

Over this desk they had spoken for the very first time, and now over this desk they explored one another in the way they had so hungrily hoped for, over and over and over again…

~~~

Shikamaru’s knees quivered as he buried his face in her neck, the both of them grinning ear to ear as they struggled for breath. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his now, the gentler touch of her fingertips weaving through his hairline, and he pulled back to look into her eyes.

Blushing, Temari felt somewhat starstruck, and cupped his cheeks with her hands, now sheer with sweat rather than the depressing layer of rain and tears he’d walked in wearing. Her forehead pressed against his and she found herself giggling, adjusting her position on the table, closer to the edge. Even now—no, especially now—she felt compelled to be as close to him as she possibly could, and Shikamaru didn’t seem to object.

As he smiled, he zipped up his jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling softly. Much to her dismay he left the table and grabbed her blouse, throwing it her way before shuffling back towards her. Examining her scruffy hair and the red marks that littered her collarbones made his eyes narrow, lips shifting into a smirk.

“Pleased with yourself, flower boy?” mused Temari, blushing as she rushed to cover her torso.

He shrugged, reached for her hips and pulling them toward him off of the table. “You could say that.”

“I thought you said you’d never had a girlfriend.”

“I haven’t,” he sighed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh. Right.” Her tone of bitter jealousy was remarkable—it took all his strength not to laugh. “Well, you unfortunately do.”

“Unfortunately?”

Temari replicated his mischievous grin and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m kidding.”

“Of course you are.” He returned the kiss. “You really are so fucking beautiful.”

“I know,” she giggled, her hands flush against his bare chest, and Shikamaru couldn’t help but take a step back, smiling.

He leaned down to grab his sopping wet uniform and groaned, his whole body whizzing with the adrenaline. From the way his top lip curved she knew whatever followed would be accidentally condescending, and yet waited until his mouth was open, ready to speak, to butt in by shuffling off of her desk.

“I’m glad you came,” she said feebly, doing up the final few buttons of her blouse and adjusting her skirt.

“As am I.”

Temari nodded. “I didn’t really want to wait until Saturday for you to kiss me again.”

“Neither did I.”

Oh, the little smile on his face; why was it so stupidly perfect?

As he stood, watching her hair flutter and her curves sway as she strolled closer to him, straight into his arms, Shikamaru couldn’t ignore how stunning the woman before him truly way. Of course he already knew that—since he’d stepped through the door he’d thought it was perfectly clear that’s how he viewed her—but as she looked up into his eyes he knew it was more than that.

There was only so much you could dwell on someone’s physical beauty until it grew a bore—Shikamaru knew that from every week-long crush he’d had at school—and here stood his perfect example of a woman, whose eyes dug deep into him and urged him to be himself. With her, he felt calmer, and until she pulled him closer and buried her face into his bare neck, Shikamaru had forgotten all about his ordeal before arriving as though her presence wiped his memory. But now, as her fingers traced patterns on his skin, something compelled him, urged him to be honest with her.

She knew he was down, he could tell, and he hardly wanted to lie to her face.

“Tem?”

She hummed gently into his collarbone.

“I saw her today. On the bus.”

“Who?”

“Kurenai, and her daughter.” He took a deep breath and it rushed out, staggered. “She recognised me.”

“Did you speak to her?”

With a shake of his head, a humourless laugh escaped his throat. “Yeah, right. As if I’ve got the guts to do that.”

“What do you think she thinks of you? Surely you don’t think she hates you, Shikamaru.”

He grunted, burying his face in his hair. “I can’t say I’m itching to talk about it, Temari.”

“You brought it up.”

“I know,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I just thought I’d tell you.”

“You don’t have to feel obliged to tell me everything anymore.”

“I don’t feel obliged. I want to.”

Slowly Temari pulled away so she was at arms distance from him. Her lips curved up into a sad smile. “Then you’ve got to be open.” She watched as his eyes grew narrower and sadder by the second and she took his hands, squeezing them gently. He was so handsome; it was a shame he was burdened by such sadness. “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” she added.”

Shikamaru looked grateful and squeezed her hands in return in three short bursts before letting go, reaching up to fix his hair back into a slightly less messy ponytail. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“But you’ve got to remember something,” said Temari, biting on her lip as she walked back to the—now violated—desk to find her phone. “You’ve got to love, or—at the very least—accept yourself in here…” She pointed at her temple. “Nothing will come easily until then.”

She could see in his eyes that he was ready to pick apart what she meant like that, but Temari wasn’t ready to answer any questions. She herself wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and sadly she knew she wouldn’t have an answer to him if he did part his lips any say anything to her. The way she felt about him was so complex, and he was generally so confusing, that she wasn’t able to peg it down even in her own mind. No words could describe the jumble of want, admiration and pity that swelled when she looked into his dark eyes or that pensive expression. After what they’d just done what was she meant to say? She adored him, undeniably, but she wasn’t sure that was what was good for him.

Maybe, for now, keeping that quiet would be the best thing for him.

“Put your shirt on,” she mumbled before he could speak, forcing a smile. “I’ll call you a cab.”

35 notes · View notes