A/N: This has been written for Kinktober 2021 and today's prompt is Boot Worship ✨ Due to the nature of this challenge, I've only done the most cursory of proofreads.

"Dinner's ready, baby!"

The promise in her voice rings down the hall and Shikamaru tries to tell himself his palms aren't sweating. The heavy thud of her boots against the floor reverberates through his bones with every step she takes down the hall. He does his best to fight the rising tension which wants to pull his muscles taut with anticipation. They haven't even begun. She settles herself at the table, set for one, and settles back in her chair, half facing him with legs crossed, one foot dangling in the air as she grins down at him.

"How was your day?"

"Tiresome."

"Did you finish all of your chores? You know the rules, no dinner until everything is done." His mouth is dry.

"Not all of them."

"No? Well, you know what to do, then." He doesn't need to be told twice.

Shuffling forward, he's careful to keep his hands behind his back. His wrists aren't bound, they both know he won't move them. One moment is all he allows himself to press his face into the laces as he inhales deep, the scent of well worn leather and faint traces of oil fill his nose before shifting to drag his tongue up the toe of the boot.

"Good boy." Her voice is sickly sweet, over-indulgent enough to make him feel mocked, it pulls a groan from his chest as he licks again, more fervently. Up the sides, the seams, he feels every grain, every scratch, every fold under his tongue. "Make sure you don't miss a spot, my love." She teases and he shifts, craning his neck and twisting to reach the back of her boot, she doesn't move an inch to help, preferring to watch him contort himself to accommodate her.

"That's enough." She plants the boot against his chest and pushes him back firmly, but not enough to wind him. Allows her foot drag down until it's pressed against the swell of his cock and smirks. "Now, the other one." She forces him to bend himself to the ground to reach, not shifting her foot forward or up in the least. As he spreads his legs to ease the way a shudder runs through him as her other foot presses harder into him. Aching tension pulls his body ever tighter as he drags his tongue up the inside of her boot. "Good job, baby." He bucks into her foot with a groan, savours the catch of a leather seam across his lips. "How'd you get so good at this, I wonder?" She laughs. "Could it be that you're a natural? That this is where you're meant to be? On your knees. At my feet."

It's not her words which burn at his cheeks and his chest, it's how much he agrees. How, in moments like these, he would gladly throw away his genius, his status, to spend his days at her beck and call, on his knees for her. "What do you think?" It doesn't register that she means for him to reply until she nudges at his jaw with the toe of her boot, breaking him from his reverie. He pulls himself back up and sways slightly, dizzy with want. She pushes her foot into him hard enough to hurt.

"Please. Please."

She smirks.

"I suppose you've finished your chores." Removing her foot to shift forward on her chair, she lets her legs fall open and he can see she's not wearing any underwear- fuck, he loves her- he doesn't hesitate, shuffling forward and biting at the inside of her thigh, right where he knows it always makes her shiver, mouthing his way up the inside of her thigh. "Your hands- you can-" she's breathless and he brings his hands up to push at her skirt, grip her hips and pull her in close as he drags his lips across her, just the barest tease, following with his tongue. She groans from above him, he brings one hand up to push under her shirt, feel the noises she makes as he closes his mouth over her clit and sucks, licks just rough enough, like he knows she likes.

A shudder wracks her body when he mouths at each side of her, runs his tongue along her slit before pushing in as far as he can manage. Under his palm he feels the elevated beat of her heart, the sweat which comes with it, it quickens his own breath. She throws him off balance without even trying, knowing he can do the same, with some effort, is all he wants in moments like this. She's wet enough now that his lips slide across her without any friction, tongue slipping in, prodding, writhing, tasting without a modicum of resistance. Her hips push forward against his mouth and they groan in unison when he presses his tongue hard against her clit. One of her legs has wrapped around his back, now, thick sole of her boot digging into his ribs and he knows she's close, drags his tongue across her swollen clit again, again, again, doing his best to keep the pressure the same until she breaks, grabbing his hair and moaning his name. He has to let go of her hips with one hand and reach down to press against his crotch before he loses himself.

She's catching her breath as he presses kisses into the bend of her knee when she pushes him back just enough to slip down off the chair with a laugh and settle in his lap. Clumsy with need, their hands catch and tangle as they work his pants down enough for her to take him inside. He pushes his hands up under her shirt to grip at her waist, desperate to feel her skin against his so they can find their rhythm together. It always comes easily enough between them that it would scare him if the want burning him from the inside out didn't stamp out everything else. He brings his hand down to massage at her clit until he finds the pace that makes her shake and doesn't relent. When her thighs go tight around his hips and he feels her shudder and gasp over him, groaning hot against his neck, it pulls him over the edge with her and his whole body goes taut, breath squeezed forcibly from his lungs.

Once they've caught their breath and she slips off of him they both let out a heavy breath, get themselves as cleaned up as they can manage without leaving each other. She stands and he takes the hand she offers him to pull him up off the floor, reels her into a kiss. He knows she loves the taste of herself on his lips, and he simply loves the taste of her. He'd never expected it to feel this easy with anyone, but it is. They laugh, they tease, they settle at the table, him in the chair and her on his lap, and he sees she's brought enough on the plate for both of them.

A/N: Do I feel completely good about my decision to imply Temari's pussy is 'breakfast'? No. But, I woke up early just to bang this out before my day starts for real, so we're all just going to have to live with it, now.

Feel free to say hello in the comments or on tumblr at BitchBot3000 (my fic blog) or GaySasukke (my questionable Naruto sideblog) ✌️

I'll be trying to do a little fic for each day of this month (all Naruto, all different pairings), we'll see how successful I am?