Evil Author Day WIP # 1
Someone asked me to do a female version of “Why Sasuke Uchiha Will Never Drink Again” and so I actually started working on that. And then got caught up thinking of all the ridiculous truths and dares that could be done and didn’t finish.
This isn’t even half of what I had planned to write, but it’s all the parts I cackled at WHILE writing, so do enjoy! (And spot the Suits reference :D :D :D
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“And, it’s official!” Sakura declares, pouring the last bit of sake into her cup before raising it in front of her. “The Fourth Annual Sexy Wives of Konoha Summit is now in session. Kanpai!”
The rest of the women in the back booth of the izakaya raise their own glasses and chorus, “Kanpai!” before tipping back the alcohol.
“Can I just say I think our summit is a lot more fun than the Kage summit?” Tenten asks.
“Definitely,” Karui agrees. “More alcohol, which I’m in favour of. And we probably have more interesting stuff to talk about.”
“Does anyone actually know what they’re talking about?” Ino asks.
“Something about tariffs,” Hinata says. “Or…sheep, I think. Or maybe both.”
“Or aliens,” Sakura suggests.
“Or aliens.”
“You know what they should be talking about?” Ino asks. “Better footwear for shinobi. I mean seriously, the athletic sandals we used to wear as genin? Do you know how much blood and muck I used to get between my toes? It’s a nationwide crisis, is what it is.”
“Yeah, screw aliens,” Manako agrees.
“Or preferably don’t
The other women murmur their agreements, clink their cups, and then drink.
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“Okay, okay, I got one, I got one—imagine you get Sasuke to agree to have a threesome with you and another guy—”
“Tch! Sure, in a parallel universe,” Sakura snorts, and then pauses, blinking. “On second thought, having met the Sasuke from a parallel universe, I think he might actually be into that sort of thing.”
“Wow,” Temari says with a blink. “I don’t know whether that’s hot or disturbing.”
“Hot,” Tenten decides.
“Disturbing,” Karui says at the same time.
“Both?” Hinata suggests tentatively.
“Both,” Manako says with a definitive note in her voice.
“All of you shut up, I haven’t finished my question!” Ino snaps, and the other women glance back at her. She renews her grin at Sakura. “So—say you get Sasuke to agree to a threesome with another guy, but it has to be a guy from your genin squad—”
“Ino!”
“—who would it be?”
“That’s not fair!” Sakura protests. “Both of them are married! To people sitting in this room!”
“Well, fine, if you’re going to whine about it—for the purposes of this truth we can include members of your chūnin squad, too.”
“That’s no different!”
“If you don’t tell the truth, you have to do the dare,” Ino sing-songs.
Cheeks burning and expression mutinous, she spends a few seconds considering the lesser of two evils, and then sighs. “Fine. Kakashi.”
There’s a burst of uproarious laughter and squealing.
“No way!” Ino protests. “He’s so old!”
“He’s not old, he’s experienced,” Manako corrects with would-be-haughtiness. “And a girl could do worse.”
“It has nothing to do with that!” Sakura cries and goes, if possible, even more red. “It’s the choice that makes the most sense! If it were Naruto, he and Sasuke would forget all about me and start some ridiculous competition—probably measuring their dicks or something—”
Everyone laughs, and even red-faced and perpetually embarrassed Hinata cocks her head to one side as if to say, ‘fair point’.
“—and that would end in a fist-fight. Then there’s Sai, who would have a comment for everything, and Sasuke would take it as criticism, and that would end in a fistfight,” she goes on, ticking options off her fingers while Temari snorts and takes another sip of sake.
“—and Yamato-taichou would be so unbelievable uncomfortable he would pass out—”
“Also, didn’t Sasuke stab him once?” Temari wants to know.
“—yeah, exactly! I doubt he’d want to get it on with the guy who stabbed him.”
“I don’t know if that would make a difference. Sasuke’s stabbed Naruto half a dozen times, and Naruto would probably still be down to fu—”
“Manako, if you finish that sentence, I will slip cocoa into your food and watch you asphyxiate to death in front of me,” Sakura vows, glancing over Hinata with the urge to press her hands over the other woman’s ears.
“Doesn’t setting off a severe enough allergic reaction that is causes anaphylactic shock violate the Medic-Nin’s Oath?” Manako challenges, and then makes a face. “Huh. Say that ten times fast.”
“There are loopholes,” Sakura replies primly.
“Sure there are…”
“Why are we focusing on Sakura becoming a murderer, and not on the fact that she wants to bone her former jōnin instructor?” Karui wants to know.
“I never said I wanted to bone him! It was Truth or Dare question!”
“Hmph. I personally would have gone with the Dare…”
“I don’t know,” Ino muses slowly. “I guess it could be interesting. I mean, he does read those books all the time.” She shoots Manako a questioning look. “Or does that not carry over?”
The older woman grins wolfishly. “Oh, it does. It really, really does.”
“La-la-la, I can’t hear you,” Sakura sings. Forget putting her hands over Hinata’s ears, she’s clapped them so hard to her head that she feels a bit of suction between palm and ear.
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“Okay, let me ask you the most important emotional question I can think of,” Manako says, adopting a serious expression.
The former Sunanin raises an eyebrow, but her face remains as stolid as ever. “Fine.”
But Manako doesn’t speak. Instead, she holds the tips of her index fingers together and then slowly starts to pull them apart.
For a moment no one knows what she is doing, but as the distance grows between the fingers—three inches, four inches—comprehension dawns on everyone.
“Oh my god!” Sakura sputters, before pressing her hand against her mouth to muffle her laughter.
Temari doesn’t answer or change her expression as Manako continues to move her fingers apart—five inches, six inches—and Hinata squeaks, cheeks filled with so much blood she appears about to faint. Seven inches, eight—
“Okay, now I’m actually getting worried for you,” the older woman says.
“You have no idea,” Temari replies, leaning back with her arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on her face.
“I can’t hear this!” Ino wails. “He’s like…ugh, he’s like my brother and you just…that image! I will never get that image out of my head.”
“Shit,” Karui says. “How are you still walking upright, woman?”
Even Tenten looks impressed.
“Okay, we have to get this out of the way right now, so no one else decides to draw it out over a bunch of Truths,” Ino says. “Over and done with. On a scale of one to ten—”
“On a scale of one to Shikamaru,” Manako sniggers.
Ino shoots her a dirty look. “On a scale of one to ten—”
Sakura interrupts. “The average length is about five inches. It’s beyond the norm to have a penis larger than—”
Hinata yelps in protest, and Karui gives her an unimpressed look. “You’ve had two children and copious amounts of sex, and the word ‘penis’ bothers you?”
“It’s…it’s not a very nice word,” the Hokage’s wife mutters, embarrassed.
“It’s not a very nice-looking body part, but it gets the job done.”
“Especially if you’re Temari, apparently,” Tenten chuckles.
“She’s got a point, though. Sometimes I wish I was only into women, so I didn’t have to look at a penis,” Manako says. “It’s one thing to know it’s there—and hey, I benefit greatly from having a partner that has one—but given the choice…” She seesaws her right hand up and down. “Honestly, I could do without.”
“You’d still be with Kakashi even if he didn’t have a dick?” Karui asks, surprised.
“Of course! You don’t know what that mouth is capable of—”
“Does he even have a mouth?” Sakura wonders.
“—and even if that wasn’t the case? Dildos exist for a reason. Whether you have a dick or not,” Manako decides. The raises an eyebrow at Karui. “Are you saying if Chōji was in an accident tomorrow and lost his balls, you’d stop being with him?”
“What? No! And besides, what accident would that be? He barely even goes out on missions anymore.”
“Actually, there are several ways a man can lose—” Sakura begins.
“I wasn’t actually asking,” Karui rolls her eyes.
“I think we’re all getting wildly off-topic here,” Ino interjects. “Now! On a scale of one to—”
“—Shikamaru,” Manako and Temari say at the same time, one a little more wryly than the other.
“—where do our guys fall?”
“I think that’s an inaccurate rating system,” Sakura protests. “Size can’t be the only factor.”
“Yeah, what about girth?” Manako wants to know. “It’s all well and good if I guy’s eight inches long, but if his dick’s as thin as a pencil, it’s pretty much useless.”
“And what about stamina? It’s not like it moves on its own,” Karui adds.
“Oh! And proper aim! Or, you know, additional use of fingers. Nothing worse than sex with someone who thinks penetration is the only way to get a woman off,” Tenten adds,
“Gods, this is turning into some kind of quadratic equation,” Ino complains.
“It’s not that hard,” Sakura protests. There are several laughs at that, and she rolls her eyes. “Pun not intended. But anyway, let’s say we have four categories—length, girth, stamina and miscellaneous—”
“What about…” Hinata begins, her voice barely above a whisper, and then she adds, “What about the feelings you have for your partner? That…I’m sure that makes a difference.”
The other women consider, and the nod in agreement.
“Alright, so we have five criteria, so if we put those out of ten, average them out and then assign them a value on the spectrum of one to—”
—Shikamaru,” Karui, Manako and Temari chorus.
“Stop that!” Ino snaps.
“—then it would be more accurate,” Sakura finishes.
“If you’re still able to do math, you’re not drunk enough,” Tenten informs Sakura.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m drunk,” Sakura retorts. “And besides—I don’t get drunk.”
“Oh, so that wasn’t you Sasuke was carting home from dinner last weekend, slung over his shoulder and staring at his ass?” Ino challenges. “Hm, must have been some other pink haired lush with a mutant forehead.”
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