A selection of Sakura pairings in one place; prompts welcome! SakuxMulti
Prompt: "coincidence", "molest, hair pulling, concubine", "really anything because they're perfect"
Pairing: Itachi x Sakura
Sakura gripped her wrist almost tightly enough to bruise where her hands were shoved into the voluminous folds of her jade-green Kimono. She dug her specially manicured nails into her skin in an attempt to wrest back control. Breathing deeply, she looked down at the patterns that slipped across the silk cloaking her skin; the white cranes, and the koi, and the delicate locus flowers.
Counting one hundred long beats of her heart, she found the strength to lift her head again.
In all the seedy meetings, in all the world, he had to come to this one. It was almost too cruel to be coincidence.
Uchiha Itachi looked perfectly at home sprawled among the velvet, tasselled cushions that littered the floor, taking a long drag from the dark pipe balanced in his fingers. She would never have imagined him sprawling in a thousand years; the casual slump of his spine, the loose, relaxed length of his arms and the spread of his strong thighs beneath the dark fabric of his own traditional garment.
The smoking was equally incongruous; the obvious pleasure he took in the long, sucking drags, the slow, sensuous exhales, the bittersweet smoke curling around him like a caress... She could almost have convinced herself that it was some other man had it not been for the unmistakeable, red eyes that pinned her to her seat more surely than kunai.
He recognised her in a second, of course, but there was nothing she could do now.
This was meant to be a simple mission; pretend to be a concubine, seduce target, murder target, make off with any important scrolls on target's rapidly cooling corpse. Those kinds of missions were as old as the hills, and nearly as abundant as them. They were practically considered bread and butter assignments for kunoichi; even medical, non-espionage types like Sakura.
They were in the Tea Country for Kami's sake! What were Akatsuki doing in this backwater?
It was considered such a simple mission that she was without backup. Really, it was just to fulfil Sakura's time in the field for the month, as she had been stuck in the hospital helping with an Influenza outbreak. All active Shinobi had to spend a certain amount of time out of Konoha in order to remain sharp; even if they were with specialised units, such as Intelligence and Interrogation, or Medical, which were primarily based within the Village itself.
What could Uchiha Itachi be doing here? And, equally worrying; where was his partner, the ferocious Hoshigaki Kisame?
She wasn't going to get any answers staring into the glass of sake that she had just been handed, but she was at a loss at what to do. Give her a man bleeding out on the battlefield, and she would push his intestines back in with one hand and stitch him back up with the other. Give her an enemy squad charging at her, and she would crush each skull with a well-placed fist.
Give her Uchiha Itachi when she was supposed to be a seductive, undercover concubine and she honestly wanted to crawl under the table and chug hot sake straight from the bottle until he left.
So engrossed was she in her horror that Sakura didn't even realise he had moved until a hand lightly touched her shoulder. She aggressively whipped out a fan, glad that it had been the wooden handle that she had grasped, rather than the kunai she had been seeking. Flipping it open, Sakura blushed furiously and murmured to the startled man next to her that she was feeling a little warm.
Sakura could feel the cool amusement of Uchiha Itachi in his gaze without looking up and it made her burn furiously hot and cold.
"Are you occupied?" His words dropped through the air, foggy with incense, like stones.
Occupied was a loose term for; with a customer. She shook her head; unable to trust her quivering lips with words. The dimness of the room and the fluttering of her fan would hide the fluctuations in her expressions. He settled on the large cushion with her like a large feline; all slow and languid. For a long several minutes they didn't speak. She watched him take long drags of his pipe out of the corner of her eye; he was framed like a portrait by her thick, mascara coated eyelashes.
She all but forgot about the red-faced arms dealer that was her target.
When she finally turned to meet his gaze his expression was impassive. He blew a perfect smoke ring and Sakura was sure she had never hated anyone as much as she hated him in that instant. He extended the hand with the pipe towards her. She couldn't think of a polite way to refuse. Folding up her fan, she rested it lightly on her knee before taking the proffered pipe from him.
She had never smoked before, but it was - literally - as easy as breathing, surely? Her hands shook faintly as she lifted it to her mouth, concentrating on the smooth feel of the wood beneath her fingertips rather than his smothering presence beside her. All of the surrounding chatter and raucous laughter seemed to melt into the background.
It tasted bitter and tickled the back of her throat, but she was pleased that she didn't cough.
He regarded her before saying, flatly,"You have to inhale it properly. Let it fill your lungs."
His palm was hot and rough and sudden against her throat; she had thought he would be cold as ice. Fighting the urge to bite him, to headbutt him, to anything, Sakura lifted the pipe to her mouth again and tried to draw it properly in this time. No one bothered to pay them much attention; it was late and most were either horrendously drunk, with concubines of their own, or both.
His hand slid lower until it settled on the silk just before the soft swell of her breasts, the other pressed below them on the hard plane of her ribs; her stomach muscles twitched sporadically beneath his touch.
"Hold it there." His expression was still curiously blank despite how close they were.
She did. Hypnotised into unwilling compliance by his glittering eyes; like a mouse in the thrall of a snake.
She waited, feeling the rawness of the back of her throat, the foreign feeling of warmth in her lungs before pursing her lips and exhaling slowly. A satisfied sliver of an expression passed fleetingly across his face before he released her. She wondered if his strive for perfection was so constant that he felt the need to correct the sub-standard actions of all those around him.
"What did you think?"
"I feel like I've eaten ash," she responded, curtly. Terrified of the implications of his presence, and furious with his strange actions.
A tiny hint of a smirk quirked the corners of his mouth. On him it was as expressive as a full, blinding grin.
"Let's go to my room, I think." Itachi raised his voice enough that a few of the nearest men, including her target, looked over with indulgent, hideous leers full of shared masculine intent.
If she didn't go with him, then her cover would be blown sky high. She had no choice.
The corridor was dark and cool in comparison to the room they had just been in. She walked behind him until the laughter faded to the very edges of hearing; almost as though it was imagined. He stopped and turned abruptly; she drew the kunai she had intended to grab earlier and almost made it into fighting stance before her body was forced into the wall.
One hand twisted her wrist until she dropped her weapon, and the other dove into the elaborate bun Sakura had only just been able to manage with the short hair she had.
She spat at him.
Not respectable. Not shinobi-like. She didn't care.
His hand twisted in her hair almost hard enough to hurt; certainly enough to ensure that she couldn't move her head, but otherwise he didn't move. She watched her saliva roll slowly down his cheek and wondered if that was her last act. Not a bad way to go.
"I would not like to kill you, Sakura-san. Try to bear that in mind."
She would have laughed had he not crushed her to the wall so hard there was scarcely any breath in her lungs. He eased back enough for her to breathe, but kept the bruising hold on her wrist. His fingers tightened in her hair slightly until the scalp started to prickle as though she was being stabbed by thousands of tiny needles.
"You will go to your room and stay there until tomorrow morning - by which time my partner and I will be gone. If you try to stop us, or contact Konoha, I will have no choice but to kill you."
Sakura could hardly believe her ears. He had slaughtered his entire family, but was letting her go? Perhaps there was something in that pipe she had smoked, perhaps she was in the midst of one of his genjutsu.
"What the hell do you- " She started, baring her teeth.
He mouth pressed against hers with enough force to stop the words in her throat. She could barely taste the pipe-weed on him because her own mouth was already swimming in it. The faint sweetness of the sake he must have drank was beyond cloying. Her eyes remained open and furious; meeting his own half-open ones in a clash. The twist of his hands in her hair again sent a shocking jolt to her stomach that she only later realised was arousal.
It wasn't a sweet kiss. His hand trapped her arm behind her and there was no give in the body that pressed against her, despite how soft the mouth was. His gaze held her whole. Just before she started to thrash like a trapped animal and bite at him, a drunken man stumbled around the corner with his arm slung around a pretty, tittering lady at least a head taller than him.
She hated him for keeping her cover.
"Get a room," the drunkard laughed, slapping his own concubine's rear and making her squeal.
Itachi pulled away from her and made a noise of assent, before herding her through the nearest door. They regarded each other when the door closed. Sakura felt her skin prickling all over as though she had been shocked; startled by the coolness that assaulted her skin.
"Stay in here until morning," Itachi repeated, lips and cheek glistening from her saliva.
He left her and she stood for a while; scalp tingling ferociously, mouth laced with the taste of ash and head full of the image of how she had marked him.
She lay down with her Kimono still on.
A dull thud at her window woke her.
She lay very still except for the tensing of her muscles when she recognised his chakra signal; sure that he had changed his mind and come back to finish her off.
"Our target was in common," Itachi said, wiping a stray drip of blood from the cheek where she had previously spat at him. He must have seen the poisonous looks she had been shooting the man under the pretence of seduction.
He nodded to her in the slow, polite way used when passing an acquaintance on the street, but not having time to stop, before leaping out into the night. She supposed that was the sort of goodbye she could expect from him; distant and infuriating. Flopping back onto her pillows, Sakura buried her face into her hands.
One thing was for sure; there was a hell of a lot that was going to be omitted from her mission report.
As before; please leave suggestions as to prompts and/or pairings because I could really use the inspiration!
Thanks for reading,