Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Naruto.
Itachi Uchiha wasn't her sugar daddy. Really, he wasn't.
Sure, he might be almost ten years older than her and richer than she'd like to think about, but it wasn't like that. They had a real relationship. She wasn't even sleeping with him!
But when people saw them together, Sakura could practically see the words go through their heads. Him, with his black, name brand suits that cost more than her car. Her, with the diamond bracelet and shimmering red dress that he'd dragged her out shopping for. He paid for it, of course. Sakura, with her part-time job and college debts, would never even venture to those parts of town if it wasn't for her pouting boyfriend, with his greedy hands and dark eyes.
Her dress was apparently the newest design from some man who had a very French name, if the woman who was currently ogling Itachi was right. All Sakura knew was that Itachi had picked her up yesterday at the crack of dawn and dragged her around what she called the "rich part of town." He hadn't told her they were shopping for her, but Sakura supposed Itachi didn't need to. Whenever they went shopping together, she was always the one who went home with more than a dozen shopping bags.
Not that Itachi didn't buy things for himself. She'd found out early on in their relationship that he was a fashion snob. Especially when it came to shoes.
She'd also found out he was a romantic. After their third date, Sakura hadn't been able to meet him for about two weeks because she was studying for finals and he'd only distract her with his wandering hands, continually texting him to reassure him she wasn't just blowing him off and no, he didn't do anything wrong. He'd been unexpectedly needy.
After her last final, she'd come home to find Itachi in her apartment, a full meal laid out on her ratty kitchen table (that of which would be promptly replaced within a week with some mahogany gift from god with six matching chairs), candles lit, and soft music playing in the background.
Sakura had almost cried right then and there. She was so damn hungry and tired, and she really just wanted to curl up in Itachi's lap and let him feed her. Maybe brush her hair.
But then Itachi had seen her shoes.
"Baby, what are you wearing?"
"What? They're comfortable."
"Those are atrocities."
"They're just crocs!"
The next day Sakura had gotten a delivery with about a hundred new pairs of shoes Itachi had apparently picked out himself. Her crocs were suspiciously missing from her closet.
(It didn't occur to her until later that she'd never given him a key to her apartment. When she brought it up to Itachi, he just smirked softly at her and said, fondly, "Baby, I'm very rich."
She hadn't understood exactly what he'd meant then. She did now.)
The thing was, Sakura hadn't known who Itachi was when she'd met him. She'd just been a starving college student who'd gotten an uncommon break one day when a class let out early and had ducked into a coffee shop on her way home.
Itachi, classy business man he was, had been on his phone and didn't look up until his very, very hot drink was on her shirt. He had cursed lowly and started to fuss over her, despite Sakura's reassurances that it was alright. (In truth, she'd felt like crying. It had been such a long, brutal week, but really, when wasn't it? And all she'd wanted was a coffee, and this happened and—)
It was his concern that hooked her. She'd expected him to be annoyed, maybe curse at her about how she wasted his perfectly good coffee and didn't she understand how very busy a man like he was?
But that wasn't what happened. Instead, here was this dark eyed, tall man fussing over her like she was a child who fell over. The coffee burned like a bitch, and Itachi was trying to blot her clothes and at some point had run over to the counter to get a glass of water for her. He'd maneuvered her over to a chair and made her sit down, even when she tried to get up because it was obvious the stain was simply just not going to come out and she just wanted to go home, take a shower, and take a long overdue catnap.
Itachi wouldn't let her go, though. He kept saying how sorry he was and when Sakura said she needed to go change clothes, he got a glint in his dark eyes that Sakura had come to know well.
Somehow, he'd convinced her to go shopping with him. Sakura still wasn't sure how he'd managed to do that without her immediate refusal—he was still a stranger, after all. A very good looking stranger, but still.
He'd made her model all the outfits for him. He'd walked right into one of the overpriced stores with it's white, marble floors and mirrors everywhere and immediately been greeted by a man twice Itachi's age. He'd looked Sakura over with a critical eye, pausing on the large coffee stain and her red skin. She'd coughed uncomfortably, but the older man had just smiled at her after Itachi explained what had happened and showed her some clothes.
Sakura had ended up going home with five new pairs of outfits. There hadn't been any price tags on any of the clothes, which concerned Sakura, and she'd panicked when she was in the dressing room. Itachi had knocked on her door after a few minutes, even after she refused to show him anymore clothes and could they please just be done?
The only reason she hadn't gone home with at least ten new outfits was because Itachi could obviously see how uncomfortable she was about the whole situation, but still couldn't stop himself from buying her the five new sets.
He'd asked her out on a date after that. She'd said yes, because it had been so long since she'd been on a date and she missed human interaction that didn't involve a scalpel and study sessions. She didn't talk with her family much ever since she'd left for college, and she almost never had time for friends unless it included doing homework. Plus, doing things costed money, which she did not have.
Itachi had taken her to a reasonably nice restaurant on their first date. It was still overly expensive in Sakura's opinion, but wasn't to Itachi's standards, as she would come to find out later. He'd seen how uncomfortable she was with the clothes and seemed to be trying to take things slow. (Well, slow for him, she supposed.)
They'd chatted. Sakura had the best night she could remember since she started college. It was all very nice. She'd asked all the inane questions that were common on first dates, including "So, Itachi, what do you do?"
He was a businessman, which she'd already figured out. He worked for his family's company, Uchiha Corp.
She'd just nodded and continued to smile, not really noticing the way he scrutinized her features when he dropped his last name. It wouldn't be until the fifth date that Sakura had begun to realize just who Itachi Uchiha was.
Prodigy, they called him. Business genius. Heartless and ruthless CEO of Uchiha Corp.
When Sakura had first heard that, she'd laughed. Sure, she'd figured out Itachi was rich, but billionaire? Come on.
And then the presents started happening. He'd given her little things after their first date. Flowers, jewelry, a book she'd mentioned. But it wasn't until after their little dinner at her place that the big things started to arrive.
He apparently hadn't understood what she'd meant when she told him about school and paying for everything for herself. She'd mentioned it before when he asked her if she lived with her family, but apparently he hadn't actually thought about what her place might look like.
It wasn't a hovel, okay? But it wasn't excessive by any means. Sakura bought the bare minimum and saved the rest of her money for food and textbooks.
It started with the dining room table. Then the couch. Then the kitchen. Then bedsheets.
Sakura hated it. Little gifts? Those were fine, but when she started to look up the prices of the things Itachi was buying her, it made her head spin. What made it worse was when she'd begun to realize that what she considered "little" gifts before were actually real diamonds.
Sakura refused to believe it at first. The bracelet and matching earrings had to be knockoffs. They couldn't actually be the real deal. They couldn't actually be worth more than one year of her college tuition.
But then she'd started to look up Uchiha Corp. And, oh, she became a believer pretty damn fast.
The company's net worth was insane. Their business deals including going overseas to China, Morocco, France, and once, even Russia. Itachi might have been the heir to the company, but, damn, if his track record said anything, he was damn good at what he did.
It was their first big fight. They'd been together for almost a month, and Sakura—innocent little naïve college girl who hadn't actually had a boyfriend before Itachi though she was—thought they were moving kinda fast. She was no expert on that kind of thing, but when Itachi made it clear he wanted to be exclusive with her after the second date and the very expensive presents starting coming thereafter, well, she might have freaked out a little.
He was ten years older than her. Thirty-one. He didn't look it, and when Sakura had first met him in the coffee shop she'd known he was older than her, but not by ten years. It didn't really bother her, though. She enjoyed that he was so mature.
"It makes me feel cheap," she'd told him through tears. They'd been arguing for almost an hour. Her, trying to explain to him why when she came home to find that he'd replaced her twin sized bed with a king sized with matching pastel pink sheets made her feel awful without hurting his feelings. Him, not able to understand why it upset her so much.
"I like buying you things, sweetheart," he'd said, pulling her to his chest. He smoothed her hair down, ignored the smell of formaldehyde that had clung to her ever since her anatomy lab earlier that day. "Accepting them doesn't make you cheap."
Sakura's emotions were already frayed from her last two exams. When she'd seen the new bed, beautiful though it was, she'd just . . . lost it. All that pent-up emotion came crashing down. It was partly her fault, she knew, since she should have brought up how uncomfortable the gifts made her earlier.
But it was such an odd thing to be upset about. They weren't sleeping together, but the word whore had gone through her head more than once. Yes, she understood that wasn't what she was, that they actually had a real relationship that wasn't just about sex and money. Yes, she realized it was her insecurities rising to the surface, the fact she was so much younger than Itachi, so inexperienced.
Eventually, she got him to agree to tone it down. He wouldn't let her return anything he'd already given her, but he'd try not to buy so many things for her anymore.
It lasted for about a week before he caved. Sakura had just gotten home from her part-time job as waitress in a little diner—something Itachi had wrinkled his nose at when she'd told him—and found a rather large box sitting on her front porch.
She couldn't remember ordering any more textbooks for class and thought maybe it had been delivered to the wrong doorstep. Her neighbor did tend to get a lot of packages and it wouldn't be the first time it was delivered to her by accident.
But it had her name on it. And when she'd opened it, she'd bound a smaller, black box with sweeping gold letters on it. She hadn't recognized the name, but after being with Itachi she'd begun to realize how to see money in things. And this had money written all over it.
Sakura had swallowed thickly and opened the black box. She'd had to blink a few times to understand exactly what she was looking at, but when she did, she'd nearly choked.
She was dialing faster than her fingers could keep up with. It rang no more than two times before she heard Itachi, purring down the line with a deep, "Babygirl."
She hadn't paid attention to his nicknames for her until then. Baby. Sweetheart. Babygirl.
Sakura felt her nail digging into the wood of her new, ultra-expensive dining room table. The first thing out of her mouth was, "Am I your sugar baby?"
She said it fast, like the words burned. The idea hadn't actually occurred to her until the words were out of her mouth—at least, not in those expressed terms—but once she'd said it, all she could think about was their age difference, how attentive he was, how much money he'd been spending on her, and now, this.
There'd been a long pause on the other line as Sakura heard Itachi moving into what she guessed was another room, closing the door softly behind him. She remembered he was at work and briefly wondered through the haze of overwhelming emotion if she'd interrupted something important.
"I take it you got my gift?"
"Itachi." Sakura fisted her hands and brought one in front of her mouth, having to speak around it for Itachi to hear her. "What is this?"
"If you don't like it, that's fine." For the first time, Itachi Uchiha actually sounded nervous. "I just know a woman who designs lingerie and when I saw some of it, I thought of you and I just—" He paused to take a breath. "Did I overstep a boundary?"
Sakura let out a chocked laugh. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the contents of the black box—the lingerie, she made herself think. God, she'd never even owned lingerie. And this box was just full of it, everything from black lace to pastel pink and yellow to sinning red—
"Itachi, there are babydolls in here," she'd whispered, horrified. She was resolutely going to ignore the strappy pieces that she was sure she'd never understand how to put on. (Not that she'd even want to—maybe—)
"Babydolls, Itachi," she went on. "How am I supposed to take this?"
He'd sounded hopeful. "As a thoughtful gift?"
She'd hung up on him.
He'd shown up on her doorstep later that night, a bouquet of irises in his hands. He'd been smart enough not to get her another gift, but apparently hadn't been able to resist picking up her favorite flowers for her.
"I'm sorry," he said the second she'd opened the door for him, offering her the flowers. "I wasn't thinking."
Sakura had just nodded and let him in, taking the flowers and letting him trail after her into her kitchen where she rummaged through her cabinets to find a vase large enough to hold the flowers. She let him shift his weight from foot-to-foot awkwardly, this billionaire of a ruthless CEO. When he got that obvious glint in his eyes when he saw her smudgy, cracked vase, she gave him a very pointed glare that resulted in him shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor, pouting.
Once they were sitting down on her couch, Itachi blurted out, "You're not my sugar baby." He was blushing, and Sakura took a moment to admire just how lovely Itachi Uchiha was.
He'd tried to pull her over to him, but when she resolutely stayed on the far end of the couch (a soft tan leather that had cost more than she'd ever thought someone could pay for a couch), he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was starting to come loose from his ponytail.
"Then what was with the lingerie?" she asked, feeling her chest constrict again.
"Oh, baby," Itachi murmured, seeing her clench her fists. "That—That was nothing. I just saw it and I thought of you and how good you'd look in any of it and I . . . I just like buying things for you. Is that so wrong?"
"This isn't like buying flowers," Sakura had whispered. "It's different."
"Yeah, I know. You're right. I just didn't think," he said, reaching again for her, trying to get her to come over and sit with him—preferably on him, but he'd take what he could get—but still she'd refused to budge.
"Do you understand why I'm upset?" Sakura asked.
"I . . . I think so." Itachi looked down at his hands. Sakura had remembered when she'd first looked up his name and found a slew of articles about the heartless, handsome bachelor CEO of Uchiha Corp. How he ruled his business with an iron fist and went through employees like children's candy.
But here he was, sitting in front of her, head bowed and still trying to get her to come over so he could wrap her up in his arms, begging her with every movement made and word spoken.
He took a breath. "Is it because of the money or the lingerie?" he asked.
"You're upset about the lingerie, which I get now, but is it more because it's lingerie that I gave you and what expectations that may hold or because of how much it cost?"
Sakura thought about it. "Both, I guess."
"Okay," Itachi breathed out. "Here's the thing, baby: I like buying you things. I really, really like it. I like taking breaks between meetings and getting a phone call from designer friends who know about you and want to email me some ideas they have. I like going through pictures and sketches and thinking about how things would look on you. I like seeing you wear the bracelet I got you and see you enjoy it not because of how much it cost, but because I gave it to you. I like the idea of draping you in luxury simply because I can."
Itachi gave up on trying to get her to move closer to him and instead shuffled over with jerky movements until he was right next to Sakura, lifting her petite form up and onto his lap in one swift move, where she fit so perfectly, tucked into his body where he could feel every breath she took. Sakura grumbled, but didn't really try to push him away.
"I apologize for making you uncomfortable. I understand why it upset you to get the lingerie and I even understand how you thought about the sugar baby thing, but that's not it at all. I have no expectations for you. I know you're inexperienced—" he grinned at her blush and tapped her on the nose just because she was so close and he could. "—and whenever you want to take that step, I'll be so happy and so grateful, but we're not going to do anything you don't want to do. If you don't want to do anything more than hold my hand for the next six months, I'll still want to buy you pretty and expensive things."
"It's just too much," Sakura grumbled into his shirt.
She felt the lift of his chest as he took a big breath, letting it out slowly, tickling the hair on her scalp. "Okay. No more lingerie, then."
He grumbled. "You needed it."
She pinched him and he jumped.
Leaning down, Itachi feathered a kiss over the top of her head, ignoring her unwashed hair. "I bought the lingerie for you, babygirl. Not me."
"Well," he drawled, brushing his thumb over her jawline. "If you ever want to model some of those pieces for me, by all means—"
She pinched him again, hard. Then something occurred to her.
"Hey, how did you know what size I wear?" She looked up at him with narrowed eyes.
He'd just grinned down at her and cooed about how adorable she was.
Things had been okay after that. Mostly. He still bought her too many things, dragged her along on too many shopping sprees that he always told her were for him, but she was the one who'd undoubtedly end up going home with too many things. She was running out of space in her apartment for all those things.
The day before the formal event Itachi had convinced her to go along with him to, when he'd dragged her out during the morning to go shopping for a dress to wear, she'd told him just that. He'd looked down at her—he was so damn tall, sometimes it really annoyed Sakura, especially when she wanted to give him a kiss and had to stand on her tiptoes and bunch his shirt up to drag his mouth down to meet hers—and said that he'd just have to get her an apartment with more room.
She hit his arm, but was pretty sure he was just joking. He typically knew when too much really was too much. Usually. Sometimes.
God, she really hoped he was joking.
Now, she stood in the ballroom surrounded by Itachi's crowd, listening halfheartedly to the woman who'd made the comment about Sakura's red dress and was nearly drooling over Itachi even when Sakura was standing right fucking there. She was taking dainty sips from her glass of champagne, feeling more and more amused as the woman tried to drape herself over Itachi, who wasn't even making an attempt to hide how disgusted he was with her behavior.
Itachi kept on giving Sakura side glances every time the woman put a hand on his arm or pushed out her cleavage, like is this okay and I swear I don't like her please don't be angry.
Sakura was immensely enjoying herself.
These kinds of events always gave Sakura a peak into what Itachi was like when he wasn't with her. She'd discovered that the "heartless CEO" headlines weren't lies. His cold demeaner the minute he wasn't looking at her had given Sakura chills the first few times. When Itachi noticed, his eyes had softened and he'd rubbed soothing circles onto her back, whispering a mumbled sorry, babygirl that only she could hear.
When Itachi had told her how much he enjoyed seeing her in the clothes he'd bought for her, it had taken her a while to realize just how much. But whenever she noticed the hitch in his breathing and the way he wiped his hands on his thousand-dollar jacket gave her a pretty good indication, and Sakura found quite a bit of power and pride in that she could get a reaction like that out of him.
She was trying to ignore the looks shot her way. This was the hardest part of their relationship: the looks. Older men ogling her like a piece of meat when she walked in on Itachi's arm, hidden innuendos to Itachi about the young pink haired beauty draped in finery.
Itachi was good at dealing with it. He knew just what to say to shut down any of the men or women who said anything. He made sure to never touch her in even a remotely sexual way, hand always around her waist or resting on her back, introducing her to literally everyone as his girlfriend, not just acquaintance or friend or lover. Eventually, the looks toned down, the comments stopped. For the most part, at least. Sakura had learned to ignore it.
Sakura was on her third glass of wine when her feet really started to hurt. She already hated wearing heels, but against her better judgement she'd worn the tall black heels Itachi had practically salivated over. She was coming to regret that life choice.
Itachi, ever attentive of all her needs, was immediately at her side, hand at her back, saying his goodbyes to the ogling woman and her unfortunate husband, leading Sakura out of the ballroom and calling for his driver.
"We didn't have to leave," she said, though Sakura was secretly glad she could finally sit down and take off these blasted—albeit cute—shoes. "I know these functions are important to you."
"There are always more, sweetheart." Itachi's driver pulled up, got out of the car and opened the door for them. Itachi went in first and dragged Sakura down after him, not even letting her sit down properly before swinging her feet up onto his lap, her back resting against the door the driver had just shut. "Plus, your feet hurt. What kind of sugar daddy would I be if I didn't attend to the needs of my sugar baby?" he teased with a soft smile.
Sakura snorted. Ever since she'd asked him if she was his sugar baby, Itachi had been relentless with the teasing and jokes about it. Sakura, surprisingly, was okay with it and teased back.
"Not a very good one, that's for sure," she said, grinning.
He unclasped her heels and gently took them off, laying them on the floor. Gently, Itachi pushed his thumb into her heel, moving in slow, deep circles. Sakura let out a low groan and let her head fall back against the window, hearing Itachi chuckle softly.
"My place okay?" he asked after a few minutes, switching feet. "I thought we could go swimming."
Sakura had been spending more time at his home ever since he dropped a comment about having an outdoor pool and jacuzzi. Sometimes, when Itachi could manage it, he'd coax her to stay the night, saying that he had more than one guest bedroom she could stay in. Of course, they both knew Itachi wouldn't let her out of his arms and would curl around her in his giant bed, leg thrown over hers, her hair still damp and wearing one of his shirts and oversized sweatpants.
"Hmm," Sakura agreed. Itachi hit a particular spot on her foot that had her gasping. "Do that again."
She felt his lips brush over her toes and she wiggled them in annoyance. Itachi hit that spot again.
Itachi carried her shoes inside when they got to his place, Sakura walking ahead, barefoot. She changed into one of the swimsuits Itachi and just oh-so casually stocked his closet with. Outside, Itachi was already in the jacuzzi, a bottle of wine next to him being pouring into two glasses. Sakura didn't need to see the bottle to know it was some ridiculously expensive brand probably about a hundred years old. Or older. Sakura didn't really understand wine talk.
When she floated over to him, Itachi handed her a glass and leaned back against the wall, sitting down on the built-in bench. His arm wrapped around Sakura as he pulled her back against his smooth, wet chest, situating her between his legs as she let her own legs float out in front of her, analyzing her pink pedicure.
Sakura leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder. She could feel Itachi's nose in her hair, still coiled and sprayed into perfection.
She liked Itachi. Really, really liked him. She liked that she could call him at any time of the day or night and he'd answer and that he was the first one to text her in the mornings and that she didn't feel like she had to be strong around him all the time. For the first time in a very long time, she could take a break from being the hard, professional student who never got below a B+ on any exam. All of her overboiling emotions could come to the surface with Itachi and he'd just listen to her cry or rant and situate her on his lap and brush his fingers through her hair.
And she'd figured out that for him, she was his relief in that he could spoil her. He could show how much he liked pretty things by dressing her up in the latest fashion and take care of her in this way. She didn't expect his money or his power when she met him, and so she had no expectations for him.
Now, she started to tell him about her week. Her week from hell, really. But her weeks were always busy, and at one point early on in their relationship Sakura had gotten worried that Itachi was tired of hearing about her exams and that one bitch in her pharmacology class and professors from hell, but he'd always reassure her that he loved nothing more than hearing about her week, even if it was just her ranting. Which it usually was.
And he really did love to hear her talk. He'd usually coerce her into his lap—his favorite place for her to be—whether they be on the couch or in the jacuzzi or even that one time in his oversized bathtub when she'd gotten sick and would ask her about her day. She'd spend hours talking and ranting and all Itachi would do was sip vintage wine and hum into her neck and hair at the right points in a story.
When Itachi's wine glass was empty and she knew he wanted more but didn't want to unwrap his arm from around her to pour more wine, Sakura handed him her nearly untouched glass.
He kissed her neck. "Thank you, babygirl. Did you not like it?"
She shrugged. "Wine's more your thing, not mine."
He hummed. "Do you remember what you said the other day about not having enough room in your apartment for all my gifts?"
"Yes," Sakura said slowly, hesitantly. "Why?"
"Well, I was thinking—"
"I swear to god, Itachi, if you bought me an apartment—"
He chuckled. "I didn't buy you an apartment, sweetheart," he said. Sakura relaxed, until he said, "I was going to ask you if you'd move in with me."
She froze and Itachi felt it.
"I mean—It's only if you're comfortable with it—"
Sakura swallowed thickly. She suddenly wanted her wine back. "We've only been dating for six months . . ."
"I know," Itachi said, and she actually heard him swallow. He took a breath. "But I'm serious about this—us. I know we're moving fast but—"
He stopped. "Okay?" he said, rising excitement in his voice. His grip on her tightened. "I mean, I don't want to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do, babygirl—"
Sakura tilted her head back to look at his face, saw his fluttering lashes and dilated pupils, blown wide. She feathered a touch over his chin, over his sharp cheekbones and heard him hiss out a breath.
She licked her lips. "Not right now, I don't think. But maybe soon. Let me think about it."
Itachi's eyes fluttered closed, just for a moment, before he opened them and smiled down at her, tightening his grip and setting her wine glass down, moving that free hand up to her hair to play with the strands that had come free.
"Okay, babygirl. Whatever you want."
They talked more about her week from hell, and then his week and the boring business meeting that Itachi had been texting her under the table during. Eventually, though, they lost things to say. Sakura was still leaning back against Itachi's chest, thinking about moving in with him, what that would be like, how many more things Itachi would buy for her under the pretense that it was for him too now that they lived together, when Itachi said, amusement thick in his voice, "You know, if we moved in together it would stop the rumors about you being my sugar baby."
Sakura had been on the verge of falling asleep against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart, lulled by the warmth of the water against the contrast of the cool night air, but now she was wide awake.
"Are you seriously trying to bribe me with that as an initiative to move in with you? Really?"
Itachi leaned down to kiss her throat, his tongue peeking out to lick her skin, causing her to gasp. "I am a very clever businessman, babygirl."
Sakura just pinched him and laughed at his pouting.
Author's Note: And here is the Sugar Daddy!Itachi AU literally no one asked for. I think I'm sorry? Honestly, this was so much effing fun to write. I've been in a writing funk for a while now and I accidently found myself reading other Sugar Daddy kind of stories and suddenly bam! Sugar Daddy!Itachi was created within my head and wouldn't leave me alone.
If it's not already obvious, I wrote this in one sitting, did one quick peek through, and then published it. So, no, it's not perfect and it's not really meant to be. This is just a fun quick one-shot I wrote for myself. No judging.
If anyone knows of any Sugar Daddy type AU stories (I will literally take any fic right now from any fandom), please tell me about it! Some of the ones I've read have been so good and I find the idea both funny and super interesting. I didn't even understand what a Sugar Daddy really was until someone told me about it. And I was like, "I gotta go write about this."
I don't know when With Blood on His Lips will be updated. I've kinda lost the trend with that story, and so I'm thinking it will maybe have one or two more chapters and I'm gonna call it quits. Sorry about that, but I'm dealing with some personal issues right now along with health issues, so I've not been myself.
Please REVIEW! If—and this is a very big IF—I decide to write more for this story, would anyone be interested? I'm gonna tell you right now this story wouldn't really have one direction or theme, just Sugar Daddy!Itachi and Starving College Student!Sakura fluff with no direction whatsoever. (Obviously, smut will not happen. I don't write that.)