Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Habits	By : lyarrah Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1065 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N: Ah yes, the lemon. My first real one - so please, rip it to pieces in your reviews.
If you’d rather see a clean version, head on over to Fanfiction.net. I assure you that it gets the
message across just fine, without being smutty.
Habits - Chapter 4
As luck would have it, Shikamaru’s mom wasn’t home when he got there. That likely wouldn’t
last long, as evidenced by the note lying on the kitchen table:
Gone to the Akimichis’ for the evening, leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.
~Mom
P.S. Tell Temari she needs to stay for breakfast.
His eye twitched as he read the last line of the note, dropping it back on the table with a sigh.
There was an after note of amusement in his mind as he realized that minutes before he and his
mother had unknowingly only been a few houses apart.
In the sink was a plate, chopsticks, and an empty tupperware - Temari had obviously decided to
take advantage of the leftovers since he wasn’t going to. That was fine with him, since it meant
she wouldn’t be bitching about being hungry any time soon.
He headed upstairs and narrowly escaped a wrestling match with the fan leaning against the
inside of his door. He’d have to talk to her about her choice of weapon-stashing locations.
It was instantly obvious that his bed was already taken; the kunoichi sleeping there had thrown
his pillows to the foot of the bed and was tangled in the blanket, her body in and one foot out. He
sighed, glancing out the window. The sun had barely begun to set, and it was a fairly warm
evening... there was time yet to enjoy some cloud gazing. He patted his pockets, confirming the
items within them before popping open the window and climbing onto the roof.
He sat there for a moment, eyes fixed on a random point in his back yard. His hands slid back
into his pants, pulling out the carton and lighter, flicking both open and lighting one up. The
action had become instinct in less than four days, and already his eyes had grown almost immune
to the irritation from the smoke. He guessed that this was how it’d started for Asuma, though he
didn’t really know. It was something for his mind to consider, though; something to occupy the
time that should have been spent playing board games with his teacher.
Shikamaru slumped back onto the roof, one hand pillowing his head while the other lazily moved
his cigarette every now and then. There were barely enough clouds to justify watching tonight,
but the sunset was growing gradually more brilliant. His eyes began to fall shut, his second hand
joining the first behind his head as he contemplated sleep.
The weight that appeared on his chest came only a minute or two later, but he’d managed to drift
off for an instant in between. He looked down over his chin at Temari, who was in turn staring
off at the horizon, in the opposite direction of his face. He moved his arm back to rest on her
waist, acknowledging her presence, but content with the silence, he decided to wait till she
inevitably spoke to start conversing.
Her words didn’t come until the cigarette had shrunk to nothing but a filter and been discarded.
He felt one of her hands grip his shirt and knew she wanted to say something, so he gave her a
half-hearted “Hmm?”
“I still remember when my mom died,” she began, and for a moment, he wished he could see her
face to know where this was going. “I hated Gaara for the first few years, for taking her away
from me. Kankurou doesn’t remember her, but I was four, so I remember...” She sighed, the
breath moving her whole body. She tended to do that - she wasn’t one to half-ass or hide
anything, and emotions were no exception. “And when dad was killed by Orochimaru... I
remember that, too. We all do.”
She rolled over suddenly, holding her head up just a few inches above his chest, to look down at
him. “And in the last few months... I nearly lost both of my brothers. For a while, I honestly
thought I was going to be alone.”
He reached up, touching her cheek softly with his thumb. It was odd to him to hear the normally
ultra-tough kunoichi open up in this way. Her pain was radiating off her face, and for a moment
he thought she was going to cry. That was before he realized that she already was.
“I don’t know how much comfort it is to you, but you’re not alone. I know how you feel - I’ve
lost so many people and come close to losing others. In fact...” she closed her eyes, trying to hold
back her remaining tears as she realized some had already fallen, “I think you’re the only person
important to me who hasn’t come close to dying yet.”
He used his thumb to wipe away the wetness from her face, understanding what she was trying to
say. She’d been there when he’d nearly lost his best friend three years before. She knew that
losing those close to him - one of the most common facts of shinobi life - was the one thing he
couldn’t handle, the one thing that would bring him to tears. And she was warning him that she
was the same. It was a silent, implied version of the same agreement he’d made with his
teammates less than an hour before: neither of them were allowed to die any time soon.
Leaning up to kiss her, he brought his hand behind her neck to comfort her softly. She sighed
again, this time much softer, and laid her head back on his chest. They both rested there for a
moment, gazing at each other, before Temari’s instincts took over, reconnecting their lips and
pushing him down by the shoulders. His lips twitched into a smirk before he began to lazily
return her eager kisses.
Her hands worked their way off his shoulders and onto his neck, then into his hair, tangling and
tugging and forcing his head to tilt to the right so she could kiss him better. The fact that the band
tying back his hair managed to stay in place for a good five minutes was proof that she was being
slow and gentle today - any other, he’d have been half naked by that time. Unless, of course,
she’d gone after her own garments first.
Speaking of which, her kimono had been hiked up around her knees via some wriggling,
enabling her to toss one leg over his hips. Now she was somewhere between straddling him and
just laying on him. Her thoughts were too focused on the union of their mouths and tongues for
her to pay attention to what her body was doing just yet. Temari continued to run her hand
through his hair, combing it back from his forehead repeatedly while the other hand gripped
loosely at the nape of his neck, holding him where she wanted him.
Shikamaru’s hands hung loosely against her back, trailing her spine slowly with just enough
force for it to not tickle. With each sweep he tugged at her obi a little more, loosening the sash
until it fell open. She slid her knees up alongside his hips, raising her weight from his body. The
black kimono hung from her sides, and what edges were still caught between them he tugged free
before returning his hands to her sides.
Their mouths separated momentarily as she shifted, allowing them a moment to catch their breath
and observe one another. Shikamaru’s head lay cocked to one side, his long hair draped above his
head where Temari had pushed it after freeing it from its tie. One of his eyebrows was raised as
he lazily scanned her face, seemingly apathetic to the fact her half-naked body was only a few
inches lower than that. For now he was content to marvel in the red tint covering her cheeks. He
knew full well that her rosy face was purely a hormonal flush; Temari wasn’t one to get
embarrassed, and the only time he’d seen her blush was the first time she’d asked him for sex.
That didn’t change that it made her uncharacteristically cute. Normal, every day Temari was
somewhat beautiful and definitely sexy - in a dangerous way - but the cute version was
something only he saw.
That’s probably why it made him smirk.
She rolled her eyes, certain the amused expression was the reaction to having a set of boobs
displayed for him rather nicely. She hadn’t yet mastered the art of reading the leaf shinobi’s
thoughts, and probably never would. Part of her knew it’d be best if she never did manage to
figure him out - the mystery was a large part of what kept her interested.
An impatient shiver ran through her. Yes, it was true that right now they were both depressed, but
in her mind, the best cure for sorrow was a major distraction, and she knew no distraction more
powerful than sex. She dropped back down, lips diving for his neck as her elbows settled near his
shoulders. He let out a sigh that was somewhere between enjoying himself and just being tired,
prompting her to growl and increase her efforts.
She’d figured out a few months back that often he’d pretend to be less interested than he was,
just to see what she’d try. Now it was a game they’d play; she’d pretend not to know and keep
tormenting him until he reacted, and he’d pretend not to know she knew and enjoy whatever was
thrown his way.
Only an idiot wouldn’t have noticed the frustrated noises coming from his shoulder two minutes
later, though, and so he grasped her by the arms, pushing her into his line of sight. Her face was
tight, her lips pursed as she avoided his eyes. “Temari?” he asked, even as his slightly-clouded
mind assembled a list of a dozen or so reasons for her reaction.
“Damn’t.” Her teeth clenched, grinding together as she fisted the shoulders of his shirt. “Damn’t
Shikamaru... do something. Please.” She finally looked at him on the last word, her eyes piercing
through his with a combination of annoyance and sorrow. “I need to forget about everything.”
For a moment, his brain slowed further, the vision of the rainy day four days before filling his
eyes for a moment, threatening to bring the wetness with it.
He could respect that. He needed to forget, too.
His right hand released her arm and dropped to the lower part of his stomach, where her hips
hovered just a couple inches above him. Eyes never leaving hers, he slipped his fingers past her
blonde curls to brush over her clit. She wasn’t wearing underwear - she never did, having them
wad up while fighting just wasn’t worth it, so there was no fabric in the way. By the time he
repeated the motion, her eyes had snapped shut and her mouth had done the opposite. To
Shikamaru, it was one of her sexiest expressions, and so he didn’t mind encouraging it to
continue.
This was far from their first time together, but they hadn’t yet reached full fluency with one
another’s bodies. Sex between them generally involved Shikamaru drawing out the foreplay until
Temari got frustrated enough to do most the thrusting herself. That would last until he got off,
and if she hadn’t finished within that time, one of them would fix that, multiple times if
necessary. Depending on who they were supposed to meet and where the next day, as well as
where they were hiding that night, the process might repeat itself. He was still far from a pro at
bringing her to orgasm (hence the “one of them” clause), but he had mastered the art of making
her face twist into a perverted, blissful grin.
And really, that was good enough for both of them.
He practiced one of his favorite tricks, squeezing her clit between two fingers and his thumb and
rolling it ever so slightly. Her grip on his shirt tightened, then gradually loosened as she drew in a
breath and willed her fingers to let go. The pattern continued for a little while, until Temari’s
arms were shaking too much for her hands to remember to unfasten and his face was plastered
with a smug, vaguely interested smirk.
His hand shifted, earning a suppressed whimper. She never made more noise than she wanted to -
part of it was simply her unwillingness to submit to anyone, and part of it was habit from sharing
a room with her brothers for the better part of puberty. He swiped his finger along her opening,
wetting it and causing her to bite her lip in anticipation.
The day they’d discovered that his long, skinny fingers, while awkward for performing hand
seals, were perfect for hooking inside of her just right, was a very happy one indeed for Temari.
So as she felt his middle finger curl and begin to grind inside of her, she couldn’t help but let out
a squeak of enjoyment. While wonderful, this sort of stimulation was less intense, leaving her
capable of sitting up and paying a little attention to him in return. One hand massaged his
shoulder and chest roughly while the other reached behind her, her torso twisting so that she
could push her palm into his thigh.
She fought to keep her hips still in near silence for the next few minutes, even after he’d added
another finger, then a third for good measure. Her grin was wide enough to show at least half her
teeth, and what noise she did make was the occasional grateful utterance of his name.
Halfway through the syllables, though, there was suddenly nothing. It took her the rest of his
name and another breath to notice, but once she did, she was greeted by Shikamaru’s best bored,
“who, me?” face. The kunoichi swatted at his chest, scolding him more for the innocent look
than for stopping. He sat up, causing her to slide off his stomach and onto his lap, sending her
labia over a rather obvious lump on the way.
She got the hint. Rather quickly, at that.
One hand dropped between them, pushing up his shirt and pulling on the tie of his waistband,
freeing it and allowing her to pull them down a little less than carefully. She grabbed his cock
through the remaining layer of clothing and shoved her lips into his at the same time, forcing him
to prop himself up with his hands if he didn’t want to tumble back on to the roof. Once again,
their tongues battled, each in their own way; Temari’s forced its way in, roughly attacking his
mouth, while his hid, sneaking in to taunt her each time she started to ease up.
Her grip on his dick loosened, only for her hand to snake inside his boxers and resume the steady
stroking. He winced slightly from the rough movements, but groaned just the same. Unlike
Temari, he was too lazy to either hold back or force any reactions, so any noises were genuine.
She loved it, not because of the sounds themselves - though they could get rather sexy - but
because she was the one making him moan and not the other way around. She’d managed to take
possession of a man who was considered one of his country’s finest assets. Only the fact that she
outranked him ever lessened that enjoyment.
When Shikamaru had had enough, he let her know, once more by making it painfully obvious.
He wrapped one hand behind her butt, pulling her closer and causing her crotch to rub against his
and her working hand. As the heat of his erection pressed against her, she moaned, biting her lip
again. “Fine,” she growled lowly, pushing her body up by her legs so that her stomach pressed
into his chest. He drew his legs up, folding them and pushing both his pants and black boxers
halfway down his thighs before resting on his heels.
He didn’t miss the grin on her face as she slid back down his body, one hand holding his cock
steady below her entrance. The grin only grew as she wriggled her way onto him. Settling down
until her lips pressed against his balls, she let out a sigh, only to rise back up again. Within a
couple quick strokes, her face had gone from sly to intoxicated, her flush deepening as the first
beads of sweat appeared beneath her bangs.
Their lack of protection was due to a particularly choice piece of Shikamaru logic that he’d
declared some months earlier: since she was the one capable of getting pregnant, it was her
responsibility to ensure it didn’t happen. The argument had gone on for at least a month, with
him refusing to partake in sex until she’d come up with an alternative to condoms - he didn’t feel
that a 15-year-old chuunin was father material, and she had to agree. Finally she’d decided to ask
Sakura about it (“I heard that herbal remedies would lessen my PMS, and it can be so hard to
fight when you’re cramping”) and had wound up on some type of birth control that Shizune had
concocted. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but if the risks were low enough for the genius they were
good enough for her.
Naturally she’d rationalized the situation by telling herself that since she was responsible for
most of the fucking that went on anyway, she might as well take the preventative measures too.
She hated to let him decide anything for her. Unless she asked.
Right now she was doing the asking, though, and her exact request was that he do something
useful. He’d leaned forward enough that he wasn’t in risk of falling backwards, leaving him with
one free hand - the other was still on her ass, pretending to help her move on him. She snatched
up the unoccupied hand and shoved it against her closest breast, squeezing both just in case that
wasn’t enough hint for him. He obliged, rubbing her slowly, at a pace that matched their current
movements.
Their rhythm fell into place within the next minute, a slow and steady grinding of her hips over
his. His head rested on her shoulder, his eyes traveling sluggishly from her face to the breast in
his hand and back, his lips occasionally brushing over her skin. Her own face was pressed into
his neck where it met his shoulder so that each breath washed over what skin his shirt left
exposed. Her hands had attached themselves to a fistful each of his hair and his shirt, and her
yukata hung loosely across her back and along her elbows after it fell from her shoulders.
They’d had sex at least a dozen times since their relationship had progressed to that level, and not
once had they done something that either considered “making love”. Tonight, moving slowly
against each other on the roof, with the sunset as a backdrop, there was just enough affection to
their actions to change that. Though unspoken, their efforts to comfort each other were perfect
compliments to their respective needs and personalities. Temari slowed down to let him have
things his lazy way, relinquishing at least a little control of herself and the situation, and
Shikamaru obeyed her wishes without any ulterior motives, aside from the fact he cared about
her.
Whatever control either one had began to vanish as Temari inevitably sped up bit by bit. Her
head fell back, her breath escaping with audible shudders, as she rocked and bounced on his lap.
At some point he had to stop massaging her chest, his hand behind her shoulder blades instead to
support her as she leaned back more and more, making sure his erection rubbed the right section
of her walls. Finally one of her own fell to the shingles, supporting them both and providing just
enough extra leverage to satisfy the heat in her stomach. The hand still attached to his hair
pushed just a bit, encouraging his lips to press into her neck. For once the shinobi did so
earnestly, his tongue lapping against the pulse point he knew she loved.
That did it for her; she’d hit the point of no return. For the first time in the whole act her groans
began to outnumber her silent breaths, a clear urgency in the speed of everything she did. Her
head fell forward again, forehead against his shoulder. The air started to catch in her lungs and
her body stiffened more with each stroke. “Shika,” she managed to choke out once, her second
hand seizing his shirt once more.
She managed half a gasp between the time the first wave started in her pussy and when it hit her
lungs. Her teeth quickly sank into his shoulder through the fabric, muffling the long whimper that
followed. Hips still moving in stutters of their own accord, her body shook for a few seconds and
then went limp gradually, her hands releasing their grip first before the rest of her body relaxed.
She pushed him into a sloppy kiss, the closest she ever came to thanking him for the things they
did. He met it with a moan to remind her that he wasn’t done yet, and not even his level of
casualness was going to stop him from finishing once he’d gotten this far. While he waited for
her to recover he wrestled her yukata off her arms, balling it up and setting it on the roof beside
them. Temari pulled from the kiss to give him a half dazed, “what was that for?” look, and he
answered by rolling them both over so that her head rested on the discarded garment.
His shirt was about half-soaked - he hated to think of how sweaty it’d be once he was putting out
more effort - so Shikamaru took a moment to strip himself down before settling over her. He
pushed back in effortlessly, his eyes slipping shut as he pounded her at a rate close to the one
she’d left off with. Her legs rose and fastened behind his ass, holding him down against her but
allowing him space to move still.
This much, at least, was the same as always; she was on top first with only rare exception, and he
was on top second round or if she happened to finish before him. There was a silent agreement to
alternate turns like that, so that neither would get too tired to continue until they’d reached their
limit - but since they’d only rarely gotten far enough for her to be on top a second time, neither
was sure how far that agreement lasted. Far enough for tonight’s purposes, at least, and that was
what was important at the moment.
He shoved into her time and time again, his face peaceful as he enjoyed the warmth enveloping
his arousal. Below him, her face was tinted red and glistening from orgasmic bliss, and her hair
stuck to her face or hung loose where it had escaped from her hair ties. It was worth the effort
just to see her like this and to feel her tighten around him whenever he pushed along the right
spot.
The heat was tightening within his crotch, and everything “her” just made it worse: the breaths
against his ear, the stinging in his shoulder where she’d bit him, her fingers digging into his
shoulder blades, and of course the pulsing warmth surrounding him. How she managed to
hypnotize every nerve in his body at once was beyond even his comprehension, but he suspected
it had something to do with a combination of familiarity, practice, and love.
He grunted as his body switched to autopilot, thrusting into her blindly towards the inevitable.
This was the one time in his life where his intelligence meant nothing. Only instinct was
important now. He quickly lost track of how much time and how many strokes went by before
the heat surged through his whole body and then out again. He groaned at the first wave, his eyes
shutting as his head fell limp beside hers, then panted out the rest before letting his weight sink
onto her body.
They laid there in silence for a few minutes, until both began to wonder if the other had fallen
asleep. He knew she hadn’t come a second time, but if she cared, she’d complain about it until
one of them did something about it. For now it mattered that she was warm, unlike the air, and
that he couldn’t really move with her limbs tangled around him anyway.
“It’s cold,” Temari finally grumbled, “and dark. And someone’s bound to notice two naked
teenagers on a roof.” She dropped her arms and legs from around his body, yawning as she
stretched them out. He sat up slowly, shaking his head a little and glancing down at her. She
flashed him a ridiculous grin, earning a genuine smile in return from him. “Love you,” she
announced, adding a tongue to her expression.
“Yeah,” he shrugged, standing up a little shakily and pulling up his pants, “love you too.” It was
probably the closest they came to being mushy with one another, and it was one of the rare times
they actually said the L word aloud; both knew the fact well enough that they seldom bothered
saying it.
“Wrong way,” she said, gesturing to his pants before standing herself, bringing their discarded
clothing with her. He glanced down, then back at her, an eyebrow raised. “You’re supposed to be
taking them off right now. You know, in case I want another.”
He shrugged again, ducking in through his window. “If you want that, you can do it yourself,” he
called after her.
“Well that’s not fair.” Their clothes landed inside just before her feet did. “Yours are better.”
He turned around, walking up to her until their bare chests were pressed together again.
Unconsciously she held her breath in sudden anticipation... until he reached past her and shut the
window. She snorted, her eyes rolling and head shaking in annoyance.
His lips pressed softly to hers, and she suddenly forgot what had her so annoyed.
“Thanks for being here,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “It means a lot.”
She smiled up at him for a moment, nodding. One corner of her lips then rose higher, as she
chided, “don’t go getting all soft on me now. You’ve still got an exam to grade in a month.”
He sighed, his default expression somewhere between bored and amused taking over his face as
he plopped down on the bed. She sat beside him and watched as he fished the lighter out of his
pocket and began playing with the lid in one hand. “You’re not going to start smoking after sex
too, are you?” she asked, only half teasing.
“No,” he said, turning his attention from the ceiling to her. “That’s something for when I want to
remember someone who’s not here anymore. If I want to remember you...” he used his other
hand to motion for her to come closer, “I can just touch you. You’re right here.”
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Habits