This series of oneshots will all be relating to my other story, Playing With the Guys, however, I don't think it will be nessesary to read PWTG if you don't want to. You would just have backround information.

The oneshots will sometimes be relating to each other, sometimes not. The pairings are going to be primarily tenten/temari but with some others mixed in. The chapters are going to be rated seperately, but the whole fic is M because of lemons.

Much thanks to my beta, RaeTyphlosion for her help!! I couldn't have done this without her.

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to naruto.

Without You


Rating: K/T

Each time she left me, I could feel the seams of my heart stretch and slowly begin to break apart. We were not often separated; our lives had become so entangled that at times, I could not tell where I stopped and she began.

I could not live without her; both she and I knew that. Her loving smile, triumphant smirk and deep green eyes had me addicted to her, and that was only the beginning.

The only time she ever did leave me was once a year for a duration of two weeks when she went to her family's summer beach house with her brothers. The only reason I did not accompany her was because the trip was a ritual her family had done, before she was even born.

Just because I did not go on that trip did not mean that I never saw her family. We visited the same beach house every year in August and spent anywhere from five to seven days there.

Her brothers were both great. I got along really well with them, especially the elder one. We had bonded once over a game of Super Smash Bros. Brawl.

I loved those trips to the ocean, they were some of the best times I ever had. The smell of the waves combined with the warmth of her body next to mine when we slept was something that I treasured.

The two weeks she spent with her brothers was always somewhat mysterious to me. "Family Time" was pretty much the only explanation I ever got. She would pack up the day before and leave the next with hardly any warning.

I would hear from her almost every day. The sound of her voiced soothed me and I looked forward to the time when the phone would ring and I could talk to her.

However, every night I would get into our bed, and I would feel empty and alone without her beside me. I would gaze mournfully at her vacant spot beside me and tears would trickle slowly down my cheek, staining my pillow with my loneliness.

The two weeks would pass in slow motion, each day filled with anticipation and longing, waiting for her return. At long last, the day would arrive and my excitement would be almost too much to bear. I would anxiously wait all day, and when she did not return, I would get ready for bed and wait some more. I knew she would be home late, she always was, but I could not help hoping.

I would wait sitting up in bed, ears peeled for the sound of a car or an opening door. When she finally walked into our room, my eyes would always brighten, and a smile would lift the corners of my mouth.

"I'm back." She would say. "I brought you something."

Then she would walk over to me and open her closed fist. Sitting on her palm would be a seashell she had found on the beach for me. It was a long-standing tradition for her to bring me shells. She would bring me a different one each time she came back to me. I would take the shell from her palm to add to my collection, setting it fondly down next to the others shells.

Then she would smile lovingly at me and push me down under her, kissing me tenderly. "I missed you so much," she would murmur, her lips trailing down the side of my neck.

The next period of time I spent in absolute bliss. Her touch, returned to me after two weeks, made everything more sensitive and pleasurable. Her name was on my lips all night long as I moved under her, begging for more. I can remember her eyes, dark with primal lust as she hovered over me…

When we were completely spent, we would lie in each others' arms. I was entirely satisfied and completely content.

I would look into her eyes and plant a soft kiss on her lips. "I love you, Temari," I would whisper.

Her hand would reach up and stroke my head gently. "I love you, too, Tenten."

Coming next is Temari's side of the story, starting when she walked through the door.

Thanks for reading, Please drop a review. If you were interested, check out my other story, Playing With the Guys.