Tag: ask

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to leave early. The Black Steel Dragon isn’t the sort to get caught up in romance, but she’s still human. A night every twice in a blue moon she may couple with another stranger. “It’s no hard feelings. I assume that you know your way out?” She says, turning over onto her back with a content sigh. “You were quite good. It was nice while it lasted.”

Itachi supposes he’ll take the compliment, considering it was his first time bedding…anyone. He’d not be against seeing her again, but his experience in these matters and how they worked was clearly non-existent, and he’s always had a problem with communicating clearly to…other people. 

Most people, actually. Something Shisui teased him for. 

“I will find a way out.” He’s stuck with a reply to her latter statement, something akin to you, too, and maybe we’ll see each other again dying on his tongue. He certainly didn’t wake up in any pain, or utterly horrified. 

Later, he’ll take a count of the number of hickeys present on his body. Most of them are easy to hide, thankfully.

She shifts through the sheets and turns onto her stomach, a small smile emerges while resting her chin upon her hands. Uchiha Itachi. She’d judged him for an Uchiha before their night ended up here, but not the prodigal son of the clan’s leader. Not that it really matters in the first place. “A pleasure…” She hums, staring into his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. Perhaps we can romp again soon, hm?”

There’s a bit of discomfort to be had with being eyed up, though in light of this situation, it doesn’t feel entirely unwelcome. It doesn’t help he can feel his eyes roaming again, from the sharp red of the hair, to her bare back. The blankets provide a halt to it.

“I should make my way out. I ah, I suppose.” No part of his life has ever prepared him for the process of romance, much less sexual matters. He’d always dedicated himself solely to his work and his goal– maybe it is that fierce dedication that left him weak in this matter. 

(bodyflicker) “ that wasn’t what I planned ”

The morning after starters…

What was the plan then, he wonders. 

He’d come to Shisui for comfort, comfort over his Father still not understanding him, over feeling like he couldn’t talk to him.

Being in Shisui’s embrace was like being truly home. The trust and respect he held for his best friend was so much that he didn’t think to tell him to stop when he felt lips upon his own, or a hand (always warm, always wanted) creep under his shirt.

Details are foggy. All he remembers is that he felt wanted, and appreciated, and his first orgasm might’ve temporarily let him travel between dimensions.

Now Itachi has to think twice about the previous night, knees tucked close to his chest. Was it a mistake? Words don’t find him, expecting his friend to catch on.

“ My name’s Chitose, by the way ”

The morning after starters…

A name, to put to a face and a body he’d likely be seeing more often. 

It wasn’t meant to be like this. 

Were things like hormones and virility really that difficult to ignore at this age? Seemingly so. He did not even return to the district, as the bed belongs to the woman’s.

Saves him from explaining it to his family. 

He’s yet to give her an answer in return. And it will not come for another few moments, as he has to sit up, blanket hanging loosely around his stomach, pushing back to press his back against the nearest surface.

“Itachi.” No getting around it. She might ask others. “Uchiha Itachi.”

What was the protocol for this…? Should he redress and make his way out…?

“I don’t cuddle”

The Morning After Starters…

Three words. 

The voice, only faintly familiar. He’s trying to put a face to the voice– it is womanly.

It’s also his new superior.

It’s enough to finally force him up, eyes fading into red to force some clarity to the situation. The entire room is strange, not-his-own, and he’s lacking any sort of protection, namely, his clothing.

The body beside his is just as nude, shifting away from Itachi’s subconscious, drowsy attempt at affection.

What had even happened? The very last he recalls is being introduced to Akatsuki’s leaders, just a few days after the worst day of his life. Perhaps there was a handshake, or two. Plenty of time to feed him some sort of slow-acting poison, to bring him to a private chamber while his mind is clouded.

He doesn’t wait to ask questions. Him, and his clothing, disappear with the crows.

¥ “Tell me what I can do to help.”

Send me a ¥ and a command and my muse has to obey. | Accepting

Itachi would much rather keep his mouth firmly shut, thanks. 

But something seeps into his veins, and suddenly the act of rebellion is a far away thought. Now his mind is wrapped in thought, trying, desperately seeking for a solution to give to Iruka. 

But it falls short, and the frustration builds, Itachi glaring at his hand before collecting it into a fist.

“Were it that easy. I have no idea what can be done to aid me.” Wouldn’t it just be grand if he could give him one simple command, one frail request, and all of the guilt, and shame, and the nausea that builds in him each time food is presented to him would just disappear altogether?

“Get me someone to fix my mind.” It’s near-impossible anyways. But that sounds like the only possible solution.

PLEASE, HCs for drunk Itachi?

[[ :C I’m going to disappoint you, probably.

Itachi doesn’t drink at all on his own– in the rare event you could get him to drink, he cannot handle the alcohol. He flushes red in the face from the swelled vessels, and feels as if the room is too hot.

He also gets really, really drowsy. He will probably fall asleep after a few beers, stronger liquor will knock him out faster. 

Alcohol does reduce inhibitions, however, in the hypothetical event one could get him really drunk, he would be brutally honest with how he feels instead of holding back. This is because he normally holds back– people who are usually honest likely wouldn’t do this. ]]

✩ Grooming, brushing, or tending to their hair.

Acts of Affection

✩ Grooming, brushing, or tending to their hair.

Some mornings are worse than others. 

It is bad enough that sometimes, Iruka must not only remind Itachi to eat the dinner he has prepared nightly, but lead Itachi to his chair, and present his utensils to him.

Itachi Uchiha doesn’t look like the high caliber shinobi of legend when it takes a full minute for his brain to process what is happening. Even his eating is methodical, with little enjoyment. It is an act of necessity, and at no point does he look like he’s sitting down and enjoying a meal that is fulfilling. 

All the damage the shinobi system can do and then some is present in one ailing body, and the loss of his goal, to give his life away, added with the monotony of civilian life often leave Itachi stranded in Iruka’s doorways, and struggling with tasks he could do himself when he was in Akatsuki.

Iruka himself is no beautician, but he knows nasty hair when he sees it. The awkwardness of two full grown men sat naked in a bath didn’t last past the first one, and Itachi never struggled. 

He sits still, and obedient as Iruka runs a rough brush down the length of his hair, still wet and gleaming from being freshly rinsed. Itachi’s like a shedding cat, and twice he’s had to peel the dead strands from the brush, and opt to set them aside than let them clog the drain. 

Itachi might not be all there sometimes– but by the Sage, he’ll make sure the body is in a better state to keep him alive.