A/N: Just a cutesyish little ShikaTema drabble-thing that I came up with sort of spur of the moment. I want to know what you think about it. XDD
This is like, my favorite pairing ever at the moment. o3o i don't know why. but they're just so perfect and wonderful.
and roleplaying them is to die for. -hearts all around-
Hope you guys like it. Please read and review if you've bothered to read it, because I'll appreciate it and if not I'll be sad. D:
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Anecdote of a Troublesome Woman
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Nara Shikamaru knew that on the day that she, the ever-excessive (in too many ways - troublesomeness, loudness... the list went on, truly) Temari, decided to move into his already cramped-enough apartment that trouble was sure to follow at her heel, and that soon, his meticulously-scheduled lifestyle would be thrown into haywire. He knew, and yet he had made no move to convince that woman otherwise - that NO, she could not just flop about on the couch; limbs splayed messily over the lumpy cushions, and NO, she could not leave clothes haphazardously strewn over the bedroom floors. No words could describe the intensity of the blush he became victim of when to his surprise a brazierre was found in his pants' bureau drawer, or the lacy red thonged panties that hung so skimpily over the rack in his closet. Man, living with a woman was rough. They just HAD to go and take over everything amongst the turf, didn't they?
However, Shikamaru had finally just made it to Jounin, and though his salary had been given a hell of a hefty raise, it also required more and more tiring, desperate deskwork hours and missions of him...And those missions meant coming home, and just wanting to relax with a hot meal, one that had been home-cooked and fresh from the stove.
Did he ever receive such things? No.
The most he ever got were the half-empty cups of instant ramen that Temari left so carelessly over his kitchen counter. It disgusted him.
And then, when he'd finally get around to sitting on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back in a reclining position as his eyes naturally drifted shut...--
She'd be all over him.
Those full, pouty lips, and those pleading yet sexy eyes of a seductress that took his attention and tore it away from other things, including resting up after a long day's work...The round and full breasts that would press against his chest so needily, as her long and elegant fingers intertwined with his own. And she'd pout more, and whine more, until Shikamaru's patience had been whittled too thin to stand anymore, and he'd give in. Oh, he'd give in all over the sofa.
And that would be that. She'd fool around a little bit after the 'big wave', and act a little cutesy to tempt him into just seizing her by the wrists and ensnaring him into her trap again. It usually worked.
Then they'd sleep. She'd have to practically drag him into the bed, and even then she'd be lying all over him, arms limp here and there and acts of shameless footsie unfolding between the sheets. God damn she had him real well.
The funny thing was, Shikamaru surmised as he watched his foreign tigeress sleep curled defensively over his naked chest, was that he really didn't mind her behavior at all in the end. Afterall, it kept him relieved of stress, right? And he knew she truly meant everything she did and said, where in the end, she'd once in a while get around to doing little womanly and wifely things for him - such as washing his boxer briefs, or making him one of those exotic sandwiches that she grew up on in Suna.
And then, there would be those times when, as her cheeks reddened and her gaze lowered, she would tell him softly and shyly how she felt for him, and even with those soft murmurs he felt the impact of every word. He got her. She got him.
He got her on top.