#hello itaino nation i bring some more food to the table

[renaerys]

Indulgence (ItaIno)

Written for the June 2023 Flash Fic event happening over in the Ino Supremacy Discord server.

Prompt: “That ass is highly unprofessional.” ItaIno

Summary: "The look in Ino’s eyes is a temptation he has unfortunately trained himself to reward, rather than resist. Indulgence has always been his understanding of love."

Rating: M

Read it on AO3 here

Full fic under the cut

Sometimes, he thinks she does it on purpose. 

“Where are we with the interrogation?” Itachi asks. The concrete halls of Torture & Interrogation are chilly and forbidding, but the high interrogator’s office is an uncanny proliferation of tropical green. He cannot move three steps in here without running into a hanging planter overflowing with vining philodendrons or strings of pearls. 

“It’s coming along.” Unlike Itachi, Ino moves fluidly through her office. She runs her fingers over a striped calathea in a ceramic, blue planter that likely weighs more than she does. “I’m having Gin work on him.”

Itachi considers himself a patient man, by all accounts. It is sometimes endearing and more often rankling to find himself impatient when it comes to Ino. He doesn’t know what to make of the way she unbalances him as she moves around him taking up space in her office as if he is one of her plants and she his fastidious keeper. “I’d prefer that you do it yourself. Shisui reported back today on movement at our northern border. That intel is critical.”

Ino is at the window now pushing her long hair aside as she waters the box of lilacs. Itachi can smell them now, their nectar a delicate tincture that nonetheless fills the entire space. They’re a fitting choice for Ino, he thinks. “Is that an order, Lord Hokage?” She doesn’t look at him as she tends to the flowers, but Itachi can hear the goading shape of her mouth when she speaks. 

Itachi pulls at the collar of his shirt. It is oddly stifling in a room full of so many breathing plants. “You could argue everything is an order by virtue of my station.”

Ino hums and slowly straightens, something she is sinuously good at. Itachi averts his attention to a nearby bromeliad clinging to a wall planter. 

“I take it that’s why you came all the way here,” Ino says. She is closer than she was before. Itachi admires the bromeliad’s yellow fronds as diligently as if they are Sasuke’s baby teeth and Itachi is ten years old checking them for cavities. “Instead of summoning me to your office.” Closer. He will not turn to look at her. He will not reward insubordination. He only has to outlast her. “Or did you just want a moment alone?”

Itachi is sure he can feel the fire symbol emblazoned on his back begin to burn at her proximity. “We have work to do, Ino. This provocation is highly unprofessional.”

“That ass is highly unprofessional,” she says as she squeezes his ass through his robe and catches his earlobe in her teeth. 

Itachi has her pressed against the wall in a flicker. The bromeliad he was forcing himself to admire shudders precariously with the force of it. The look in Ino’s eyes is a temptation he has unfortunately trained himself to reward, rather than resist. Indulgence has always been his understanding of love. “My love,” he says in that deep-water voice he knows works on her every time, “the sooner you get me the intel I need, the sooner I will fuck an heir into you.”

It is a dirty thing he does, tempting her into obedience with the promise of stuffing. But Ino has never been above playing dirty herself when it suits her aims. “My lord Uchiha,” she croons, and the endearment (along with her hand) goes directly to his cock. “I’m your loyal subject, always.”

Itachi does not groan (that would be unprofessional, and technically they are working), but he does press himself harder against her offering hand. “Then I suggest you work quickly, my lady Yamanaka. That is an order.”

Ino finishes the interrogation herself in twenty minutes. She transfers the memories she’s mined directly into the brain of one of Itachi’s crow summons that he shares with Shisui, and within the hour Shisui has the intel at the boarder and Itachi follows Ino back to the home they share to make good on his promise. 

Nine months later, Yamanaka Inoe screams her first cry in his arms.

[minakotricksterworld]

I highly recommend, teasing goodness.

Indulgence (ItaIno)

Written for the June 2023 Flash Fic event happening over in the Ino Supremacy Discord server.

Prompt: “That ass is highly unprofessional.” ItaIno

Summary: "The look in Ino’s eyes is a temptation he has unfortunately trained himself to reward, rather than resist. Indulgence has always been his understanding of love."

Rating: M

Read it on AO3 here

Full fic under the cut

Sometimes, he thinks she does it on purpose. 

“Where are we with the interrogation?” Itachi asks. The concrete halls of Torture & Interrogation are chilly and forbidding, but the high interrogator’s office is an uncanny proliferation of tropical green. He cannot move three steps in here without running into a hanging planter overflowing with vining philodendrons or strings of pearls. 

“It’s coming along.” Unlike Itachi, Ino moves fluidly through her office. She runs her fingers over a striped calathea in a ceramic, blue planter that likely weighs more than she does. “I’m having Gin work on him.”

Itachi considers himself a patient man, by all accounts. It is sometimes endearing and more often rankling to find himself impatient when it comes to Ino. He doesn’t know what to make of the way she unbalances him as she moves around him taking up space in her office as if he is one of her plants and she his fastidious keeper. “I’d prefer that you do it yourself. Shisui reported back today on movement at our northern border. That intel is critical.”

Ino is at the window now pushing her long hair aside as she waters the box of lilacs. Itachi can smell them now, their nectar a delicate tincture that nonetheless fills the entire space. They’re a fitting choice for Ino, he thinks. “Is that an order, Lord Hokage?” She doesn’t look at him as she tends to the flowers, but Itachi can hear the goading shape of her mouth when she speaks. 

Itachi pulls at the collar of his shirt. It is oddly stifling in a room full of so many breathing plants. “You could argue everything is an order by virtue of my station.”

Ino hums and slowly straightens, something she is sinuously good at. Itachi averts his attention to a nearby bromeliad clinging to a wall planter. 

“I take it that’s why you came all the way here,” Ino says. She is closer than she was before. Itachi admires the bromeliad’s yellow fronds as diligently as if they are Sasuke’s baby teeth and Itachi is ten years old checking them for cavities. “Instead of summoning me to your office.” Closer. He will not turn to look at her. He will not reward insubordination. He only has to outlast her. “Or did you just want a moment alone?”

Itachi is sure he can feel the fire symbol emblazoned on his back begin to burn at her proximity. “We have work to do, Ino. This provocation is highly unprofessional.”

“That ass is highly unprofessional,” she says as she squeezes his ass through his robe and catches his earlobe in her teeth. 

Itachi has her pressed against the wall in a flicker. The bromeliad he was forcing himself to admire shudders precariously with the force of it. The look in Ino’s eyes is a temptation he has unfortunately trained himself to reward, rather than resist. Indulgence has always been his understanding of love. “My love,” he says in that deep-water voice he knows works on her every time, “the sooner you get me the intel I need, the sooner I will fuck an heir into you.”

It is a dirty thing he does, tempting her into obedience with the promise of stuffing. But Ino has never been above playing dirty herself when it suits her aims. “My lord Uchiha,” she croons, and the endearment (along with her hand) goes directly to his cock. “I’m your loyal subject, always.”

Itachi does not groan (that would be unprofessional, and technically they are working), but he does press himself harder against her offering hand. “Then I suggest you work quickly, my lady Yamanaka. That is an order.”

Ino finishes the interrogation herself in twenty minutes. She transfers the memories she’s mined directly into the brain of one of Itachi’s crow summons that he shares with Shisui, and within the hour Shisui has the intel at the boarder and Itachi follows Ino back to the home they share to make good on his promise. 

Nine months later, Yamanaka Inoe screams her first cry in his arms.