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Good thing it's a small com, britt
oh I see where your loyalties lie
I swear I was rooting for you.
Ino. Naruto. First time on stage together. Kiss scene. And she fucking liked it. :|
PROMISE. I TOTALLY ROOTED. HARD.
DO I HAVE TO SMACK A BITCH UP IN HERE
Apparently, I forgot about the part of the prompt where it's their first time on stage together. Or, alternatively, you can just assume that this is the first time they've technically been on stage together.
IDEK. ENJOY YOUR GODDAMN DRABBLE.
-----
“Do me a favor, Uzumaki, and try not to be a pervert about this?”
He laughed. He laughed. “How about you try not to be a high and mighty bitch first?”
The urge to punch him was almost overwhelming, but Ino, at least, could count self-restraint among her many virtues. They were going on stage any second now, and blood would probably stain the carpet. “How about I rip off your appendages one by one, starting with your di--”
“Uzumaki! Yamanaka! You’re up!”
With an undisguised grin, Naruto bounded up the aisle and onto the stage, leaving Ino to follow much more sedately, uncharacteristically but necessarily silent in her anger. The only question she had left to ask herself, though she’d asked it many times before, was why? Why was she stuck with this hyperactive prick? Why did she have to do this scene with him? Why did he have to be so damn good of an actor when he was so damn obnoxious as a person?
It just wasn’t fair.
“Scene?” the professor prompted, shuffling his papers around even though Ino knew he wasn’t actually looking to answer his own question.
“Romeo and Juliet, act one, scene five,” she answered for the both of them, disinclined to let Naruto open his mouth more than strictly necessary. That was the other thing; Romeo and Juliet was just so cliché.
Naruto wiggled his eyebrows at her, speaking under his breath. “Let’s go, blondie.”
Not to mention Naruto was the worst Romeo she could’ve picked. Or not picked, as it went.
“Try not to screw up this time,” she hissed back, taking her position not a hairbreadth’s away from him, and watched as he grinned again, a brief flash of teeth, before wiping all emotion from his face. It was almost eerie, how easily he flipped that switch.
Romeo. He was Romeo.
Ino took a deep breath, then curled her fingers in his proffered hand. His grip was strong, confident, she noticed, his fingers calloused and thumb gently resting on the back of her hand. Their professor had taught them that, when dealing than a less than desirable scene partner, the best way to fake chemistry was to take some desirable physical feature of theirs, any desirable physical feature, and focus on that.
Unfortunately, Naruto had a lot of desirable physical features she could focus on, except for those scars. It made it easier to fake chemistry, she supposed, even as another part of her lamented again that someone as blank--in this case, handsome--as him was so annoying.
She sighed, as if entranced by him, and rested her hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to start the scene. As far as she was concerned, though, they’d already begun.
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand,” he said, smiling, running his knuckles down the side of her face, “this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”
They hadn’t practiced this next part. She’d wrinkled her nose in disgust and he’d simply shrugged his shoulders, saying that they’d “improvise.” Right.
Even though Ino knew it was coming, she still felt a little stunned when he leaned down and kissed her. Something hot and electric shot through her at the touch; it made her rock back on her heels with uncharacteristic unsteadiness and suddenly, inexplicably, she trespassed on the cardinal sin of theater acting: she forgot about the audience, if only for that split second. Then, belatedly, she turned her instability into a cushioning motion, before rising up to meet him, pressing her lips more firmly against his.
Finally, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as she sucked in a breath, gathering herself. Though he was smiling tenderly, as Romeo would, she could see his characteristic mischievousness sparkling in his blue eyes.
Again, the desire to punch him in the face was almost too great, but she resisted and said, for all the world sounding like the beguiled young maiden, “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” He was going to drive her crazy with that impish look.
She smiled instead. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”
“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”
“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” It was easier now, that he was a little farther away, so that she couldn’t feel the heat radiating from his body. She could do this. No problem.
“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” Her lips unexpectedly felt where he brushed his thumb over them, but she discarded it as that phenomenon of being a little too in-character. She wouldn’t be the first actress to do that.
“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” As practiced, she shifted forward, closing the distance between them again, and his hand came around to rest precariously, heavily, on the small of her back.
“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”
This time Ino braced herself. His lips descended on hers, and she realized that she’d braced herself in vain. Warmth surged through her again, heady and insistent along with his kiss, and she wanted to scream with how unfair this really all was. Instead, a groan worked in her throat; as if sensing it, Naruto parted his lips, slightly, his tongue flicking out and silencing her. On him, she tasted coffee and something sweet, like candy, and wondered if he was going to let go of her anytime soon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.
His grip on her fingers tightened, briefly, and that was the only warning she had before he pulled away again. Dimly, she remembered her line.
“You kiss by the book.” Her breaths were coming in too fast, and he still hadn’t let her go. She couldn’t help but notice how his fingers felt in hers again.
The scattered students broke into polite applause, and with that as the scene’s cue to end, Naruto immediately broke out his smirk. Ino scowled at him.
“Very good, you two! I could feel the chemistry. Very passionate,” their professor trilled, but Ino was already huffing off the stage, feeling unusually frustrated, even for the times she had to work with Naruto. She grasped for reasons, that it was just because they hadn’t practiced kissing scenes before, that she hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that he was actually beyond handsome when you tilted your head a little to the side and squinted. Or whatever.
![[User Picture]](https://www.scribbld.com/userpic/211423/31276) | From: ![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) verdure
2009-09-12 12:32 pm (UTC)
oh my god scribbld, you frigid bitch | (Link)
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As they filed into their seats, Naruto turned to her with a cheeky grin and said, “Not bad, huh?”
Her voice was a dangerous hiss. “Next time you slip me tongue, I’m cutting it off.”
He simply laughed, and Ino, defeated, could only roll her eyes in return, still tasting coffee and something sweet.
THAT WAS TOTALLY UNPROOFED BY THE WAY AND FINISHED AT 4:30 IN THE MORNING.
I MAKE NO QUALITY GUARANTEES.
I'll go easy and ask:
Ino/Sakura - roommates
i want something where
shikamaru tops
in anything but sex.
When Ino decided that she was going to hijack his apartment, Shikamaru had very begrudgingly set only one rule for her, well aware that anything above and beyond would be cheerily ignored. She’d just as begrudgingly acquiesced, and he figured that that, if luck and stars and other things he didn’t believe in were on his side, would be the end of it.
The only warning Shikamaru had that he might’ve overestimated Ino was when he opened the door to his dark apartment and found himself faced with a hushed, “Oh my god--”
Automatically, he flipped the lights on, only to be immediately reminded of exactly why he hated his photographic memory.
“Get out,” he ground out to the dumbstruck guy coiled in his sheets, dark-haired and darkly handsome, just the way Ino liked them.
“Huh? Who are you?”
“You heard him,” Ino barked, extracting herself from the bed with unearthly amounts of dignity and shocking Shikamaru by coming to his aid, however briefly. “Get out.”
The guy, still bewildered but suitably cowed, hurriedly plucked his clothes from where they were scattered on the floor and made the quickest exit any man could in that kind of situation. When the door finally clicked shut, Shikamaru swiveled back on Ino, somehow managing to keep his voice completely level in spite of the unfamiliar amounts of ire welling up inside him.
“I told you not to bring any guys back here, Ino.”
“I know, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes and tugging the sheet higher up her bare chest. It was as if shame completely escaped her as an emotion. “I was going to wash the sheets and stuff, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped back quickly, and she flinched away from him. “I told you--”
“What’s the big deal, anyway?” she demanded, expression stubborn and just as self-righteous as his own. “I would’ve cleaned up and everything before you got home and you wouldn’t’ve even known he was here!”
“That doesn’t matter either.”
“What does matter, then? That I never get laid?!”
It mattered that she betrayed his trust. That mattered. Unfortunately, for all his brainpower, Shikamaru couldn’t think of a single way to say it that didn’t sound stupid--so he didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he turned sharply on his heel, angling his head to the side just far enough so that he could glance at her over his shoulder.
“Wash the sheets.”
Her eyes widened, but he didn’t see the rest of her reaction, already striding from the room and slamming the door behind him.
.
.
.
A few days later, after being thoroughly and utterly ignored, he walked into the apartment to find Ino on the couch, entranced by one of the classic American movies she loved so much. There was a cup of tea perched on the coffee table in front of her, as well as a stack of glossy magazines and a bag of half-eaten popcorn. Unbuttered, he couldn’t help but notice, and probably low fat to boot.
He was about to spin around and wander back to the library when he caught sight of the final, alarming object on the table: a second cup of tea.
Suddenly, he couldn’t leave.
With a leaden sigh, he shed his shoes and bag and took his spot on the couch in front of his cup of tea, wordlessly collapsing into the worn cushions. For the fifty seventh time since she’d barged though his door, he wondered why, exactly, he’d put himself through this.
“It’s cold now,” Ino said, barely audible over the musical number exploding to life onscreen. “Moron.”
“I know,” he replied, kicking his feet up on the table and watching the dark tea splash against the rim of the cup.
He fell asleep, hands folded behind his head, to some histrionic tune he couldn’t name but would always associate with her.
yeah it's going to be hard
HAHAH I love that you actually beat her. I HAVE NO REQUESTS ATM...
My actual essay lazed as proof in one of the comments for 10 minutes, no lie. | |
