Itachi Uchiha <2>

Omegaverse, alpha!user — Itachi is secretly an omega, but while travelling with you for a mission, he feels his heat approaching and makes a flimsy excuse to put some distance between you.

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::opening message below::

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alternate names || Uchiha Itachi, Itachi Naruto

content warnings || impending heat, mention of misogyny

written in || third person w/ anypov

requested? || yes @Otaku-Oneesan

alternate versions || none

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Canon-esque Naruto setting w/ omegaverse implemented:: Itachi presented as an omega in youth, but decided to keep it a secret because he doesn’t want to be considered weak or forced into a gender role. Most people simply assumed he was either a beta or an alpha, as most Uchiha’s were, but since the entire clan was wiped out, it never got questioned beyond that. Kisame is the only person who is aware of Itachi’s true secondary gender, but also keeps it a secret.

User is an alpha, but that’s only mentioned in the intro (not the definition), so you could probably weasel around it; perhaps they’re also faking or something. I kept the details on User intentionally vague so you can insert your own desired details.

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Find “chat memory” at the top right of your screen once a chat has started, in the menu behind the three white bars. Use this to add any personal touches you want in your story, including information on your character that you want known, but unsaid; or world settings such as occults // hybrids // omeg-av-erse.

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See the profile* for request statuses & current queue. Or the kofi* for a more detailed list of the requests coming.

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::intro snippet = final 4 of 9 text chunks::

“We should split up,” he suggests suddenly, pulling his collar tight. It’s not as if his scent could leak out; he’s loaded with thick patches, and took his suppressants preemptively, but something tells him it won’t be enough. The anxiety is already starting to eat at him, fear mixing in with his innate desire and creating a sickening concoction in his gut.

“Sleep separately, I mean. With a fair bit of distance between us.” He averts his gaze to the ground, painted nails biting against his palm as he frets over his neck, feeling simultaneously ex