Our #1 (Shikamaru Nara)

508 9 6
                                    

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Unknown]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:
- Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 4,198

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Smoking/A bit of smoke-play
- Slight choking
- Word 'dumbass' is used
- Temperature Play (aka Shika burning you with his cig butt)

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     Anxious fingers crawl under my dress and quickly find themselves along my spinal cord. Shikamaru traces the ridges of my spine, running over the lower half before sliding back down.
     Thump, thump, thump.
I do my best to stay still, not letting the shiver building up escape. If it wasn't for the Nara cloak wrapped around my shoulders I'd be on display, but I don't think Shika cares much about that right now.
     I spare him a glance, doing my best not to move much. The last thing he needs right now is to notice how anxious I am too. His jaw is screwed tightly shut, eyes strictly forward and as hard as his jaw. If this was a different situation I'd take the time to enjoy Shika's pissy face. He's always so pretty when he's angry.
     "Shikamura," his mother says, tone light but words filled with fire. "Stop looking so mad. Today is a gracious day. A very honorable day. At least try and look happy."
     A couple of blinks fill the space of his usual eye roll, but his face does soften a bit. "Yes Ma'am," Shika answers, but still gets a pointed look from his mom. The look soon flutters away, along with the inactive chieftess as she walks off to talk to the Nara Chief's advisor... Shikamura's advisor.
     The thought tickles my brain. Quite a few thoughts recently have been messing with my head. It's always been a known fact that Shikamura was going to succeed his father; everyone just thought we'd have more time before that happened.
It was something that came up in our relationship a few times, the event of him becoming chief and in turn me becoming chieftess if our relationship went further. Now that it's here, Shika has insisted I take the title too and that 'we'd figure out the marriage thing later'.
     I know I shouldn't read so much into his statement but I do. Does he want me to be his chieftess or does he feel required to give me the title since we've been together for so long? Does he feel rushed to get married now too? What if he decides he doesn't want to be with me? Would he stay with me to avoid embarrassing the clan by stripping me of my title? Or would he just leave me without a second thought?
"I need some fresh air. You're coming with, pretty girl," Shikamura whispers against my ear, his warm breath coating the side of my face. Tingles fill my chest at the pet name, tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Despite the warmth in my chest, he does startle me a bit with his sudden closeness. Shika isn't big on being all 'love-struck teen' in public, which usually leaves room between us and a lot less touching when we're out and about. Today seems to be an acceptation though.
     I hum a yes getting a rough hand pushing me forward in return. I do as prompted, walking forward and sliding out a side door with Shika in tow.
     Once we're out the door, Shika takes the lead. His hand jumps from the small of my back to tangle with mine. The walk to the forest edge is rough, Shikamura's nerves getting the better of him now that we're out of the sight of the clan council.
     When the shade of the trees engulfs us, his shoulders noticeably relax, as does his hold on me. His fingers are back to being feathery light as they slide against mine. As Shika relaxes, he lets himself prop up against a tree.
     I do the same, the rough bark of the trunk scratching against my back and my knees accidentally knocking against my boyfriend from the close quarters. My eyes cast themselves upwards, taking in the natural fairy lights made by the sun and the leaf patterns.
     A click of Shika's lighter fills the silent space, quickly followed by a stream of grey smoke. "Wear more dresses," he mumbles, smoke curling out with his words. It's weird to me how straightforward and yet confusing Shikamura can be.
     "I can't exactly fight in a dress, Shika," I mumble, a bit distracted by the man next to me. He's dressed up for the ceremony today, which means he's out of his Shinobi vest for once. Instead, Shika - and myself - are dressed in the muddy forest color of his clan. His hair is up in a high ponytail, like always, and the ends are their usual spikes.
     In honor of the ceremony, his face is covered in clan paint, the washed-out grey color of the Nara clan instead of their signature green color. The paint focuses his cheekbones more than usual, adding to his attractiveness.
     "You look stupid," he says as his own eyes wander over the paint on my face. His mother insisted I have the traditional art on my face as well. Shikamaru isn't too happy about it and threw a bit of a fit when his mom was putting it on me. "Take it off."
     The order is followed by movement. Shika rests his cigarette between his lips and moves closer to me. His hands reach up to my face and quickly start smudging the grey paint. I stay still, letting him rub away the artwork.
     Once he's settled on the fact that maybe his hands aren't the best way to get it off, he reaches into his pockets. It doesn't take long for him to find something else to attack my face with. Shika is gentle as he runs the cloth over my face.
"There's my pretty girl," he murmurs soft enough that I almost don't hear it.
"Your mom is going to reapply it when we get inside."
"And I'll wipe it off again," he snaps back, tone a bit pitched. The softness in his face is gone again, replaced by a look of disgust. "You don't need all that gunk on your face." The words are rough but they're meant with love. Shika appreciates when I do my makeup for him, even if he shows it in his own way. Though, at the end of the day he prefers me bare-faced.
His hands drop from my face and slide back to my spine, this time over my dress. His fingers mess with the material as his eyes rake up and down me a couple of times. They end up settling on my collarbones. "Wear more dresses," he repeats before turning his attention back to his cigarette.
     Shika is always like this, making his requests sound like demands. I don't think the man could ask a question to save his life. "Okay Shika," I answer back, leaning my head against the tree.
     He nods to himself in approval, his hand dipping down to the hem of my dress. Shikamura's fingers wrap around it, the material balled in his fist and his knuckles grazing my thigh.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" I ask, bending my knee so more of his skin comes into contact with my own.
     The answer is put on hold by a couple more drags of his cigarette. "You look good in our clan colors," he finally answers.
"Our?"
"Our."

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