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The smoke hit you first before your face scrunched up from discomfort. You were waiting to be picked up and drove home from an arranged date at a 5-star hotel that went less than satisfactory. You felt tired, and this unwelcome scent just annoyed you more.
It reminded you of the insect repellent incense people would sometimes lit up in gardens, although much thicker, filling your lungs like liquid. You don't smoke, and you would never understand people who do. Nicotine is addictive, sure, but is the pleasure worth the consequences?
You should mind your own business, still, you couldn't help yourself but look towards the source of the smoke. Red, unfocused eyes looked far away into the distance, closed and glazed over when he took another drag of the cigarette.
The man was obviously stressed, with deep lines on his face that could only belong to those who have experienced too much. Still, he was undeniably beautiful. Red was a terrifying shade for eyes to have, as if one were born with hellfire in their soul. But it somehow looked kind on him, warm in a devastatingly deadly way.
You knew you shouldn't stare for as long as you had because he turned to look at you. Embarrassed, you looked away, taking out your phone to check for messages that weren't there.
That car couldn't come soon enough.
The man couldn't care less, though. He took another long drag at the cigarette, and you couldn't help but look again. The smoke curled, and his eyelashes fluttered. His weight shifted and his posture relaxed, even when those red eyes were still guarded.
He looked like he walked out of a magazine page, and you would be lying if you said you weren't a bit disappointed when your family's car came to pick you up. You have a soft spot for handsome men, as many, many other women also have.
Going to arranged dates was tedious and borderline demoralising. His appearance softened the blow of today's failure a bit, even if the smoke burned your eyes and lungs.
It all felt too short as you got in the car and drove away.
This was the first time you met Uchiha Itachi.
...
It felt like a fever dream, how you got here.
You have heard of the Uchiha clan before. Rumours recounted how red eyes were the last thing people saw before a business empire collapsed or a political dynasty ended. That if you see red eyes in the dark, it would all be over already before you could scream.
In the middle of it was the heir apparent, Uchiha Itachi. All kinds of things were whispered about him, from him being a brilliant strategist to a cold-blooded tyrant spawned straight from hell.
No one mentioned tired, kind eyes. Still, you should have realised sooner.
The week after your failed date, you were arranged to meet Uchiha Itachi at the restaurant of the same five-star hotel. He was polite and pleasant and gave no signs that he remembered your encounter a week before.
He listened to you talk about what you do for work and asked questions like he was interested. You didn't dare to ask about his work, but you asked him what he was looking for in a wife. He answered curtly that he wasn't looking for or expecting anything in particular; he just wanted someone pleasant.
"Am I pleasant, then?" You asked, a bit nervous.
"I wouldn't have stayed this long if you weren't." Itachi answered calmly.
"Why are you finding a wife now?"
The question lingered in the air, and you felt like you had made a mistake. Still, you wanted to know since with a family name like Uchiha and a face like that, many young ladies would still line up to marry Itachi despite what the rumours might have said. With a low bar like "someone pleasant", Itachi should have found a partner already.
"Not the right time, until now."
You took that vague answer as it is and left it at that. There was no point in pushing for answers he didn't want to give.
Fate brought you both here, then. A coincidence in time and place. It took away some control over the word 'arranged' from your family. It didn't give it to you, but it's not like you can argue with fate.
...
The wedding was a slow, formal and coordinated show. A merger and acquisition meeting with champagne and a dinner. You didn't pick your own dress, the flowers, or anything really. You did pick the cake. It's nice to be grateful for small choices.
Your family was undeniably happy. Despite their prestige, marrying into the Uchiha was still considered a major step up for you.
You, on the other hand, felt relief. Your arranged dates showed that you could've done much, much worse than Itachi.
The bar was on the ground... really.
Itachi was the only person who you didn't know what he was thinking. He wasn't upset or forced, it's not like anyone can force him. But he obviously wasn't happy either.
At least he didn't look tired or bored. He offered his hand when you approached the altar, his touch warm and gentle despite the slight roughness of his palm. The deep lines of his face relaxed a bit when his red eyes met yours.
There was a little bit of product on his face. Eyebrow gel, concealer, and maybe a new aftershave. The scent of smoke still lingered, a steady presence.
You didn't write your vows, it felt foreign on your tongue when you read them out. In sickness and in health, but no mention of for richer or for poorer. At least whoever wrote this didn't want you to lie.
Itachi didn't sound like he wrote his vows either, but his eyes were oddly piercing when he said 'until death do us part'. The red of his eyes gleamed under the altar's lights like flames burning this contract into fate.
You believe him, one of the choices you were allowed to make for yourself. Only time will tell, and only you will feel the consequences.
Itachi exchanged rings with you in an almost mechanical manner. Then it came time for the kiss.
You blushed, you couldn't help it. Bad and borderline disastrous arranged dates didn't count much for romance experience. You knew what you didn't want, that was for sure.
Itachi leaned in, and for the first time, you didn't feel the urge to step back. He held your hand, the one that held the bouquet, and raised it up. The flowers covered both of your faces from the crowd, and your heart beat faster. Itachi held your chin, tilted your head slightly and pulled you in, soft but slightly dry lips brushed against yours.
You closed your eyes and you didn't see any fireworks. It felt more like coming back to a warm fireplace after going through a snowstorm. The scent of smoke is concentrated here.
You still didn't understand why people smoke, but you don't think you will ever mind the scent when it's on Itachi.
...
Living in the Uchiha clan's main estate was the experience you imagined Japanese ceremonial dolls would have. Artificial ponds and elegant, winding paths in the garden were perfectly manicured and devoid of any mistakes. The sound of bristling tree branches and running water muffled any loud noise of the city outside.
Itachi had his own wing with a separate entrance. You could come in and out of the estate without the rest of the clan noticing. Servants shuffled softly through the halls, and clan members talked in quiet, hushed voices. It was tranquil, but the silence sometimes could be too much.
Hallways would stretch endlessly before you could see another human. Even when you see one, their eyes would be either glued to the floor or their chin held so high that you were only deigned a cold glance.
Some nights, you could hear shouts distant beyond the walls. It was often followed by the noise of something shattering before delicate pottery that you could only imagine cost a fortune disappearing the next day.
You found yourself outside more often than not. You still kept your job despite some judgments from more traditional clan members. Itachi's indifference when it was brought up sealed the deal. You didn't think he cared much about how you spent your time.
Dinner with your friends was a weekly thing. Curiosity amongst them died down pretty quickly once your friends realised the notorious Uchiha were more absent. Clan's dramatics are kept away from you.
You were normally asleep by the time he came back. Itachi asked you if you wanted to share a bed on your first night, and you said you didn't mind. You were nervous, sure, but he simply lay down and fell asleep very quickly, breaths evened out into soft snores.
Briefly, you and your friends suspected Itachi might be cheating. But he came back every night, his warm body slid into your bed, carrying the faint scent of smoke in the air. Come morning, he left just as suddenly as he came. You could say his presence was like a ghost, but ghosts don’t leave empty sheets this warm and a scent this intoxicating behind.
That wasn't anything concrete. Who knows what Itachi does every day, which assistant might blink their pretty lashes at him in his office. But the warmth anchored and sank you, and you don't think you would need air when you can smell smoke in the sheets.
You didn’t dare hope for love, but your mind did wander. Every time Itachi brushes your hair back when you’re still half asleep in the morning, thinking you never noticed, did he feel something at all? Every time his fingers brushed your neck as he draped a jewelled necklace on your skin, then held your hand to a formal event you both couldn’t care less about, did his action mean anything more than duty? Every time Itachi towered over you just by standing near, his presence like that of a great wolf guarding behind your back, did he know it made you feel a warmth tightly coiled at your core?
Silence was dangerous since you could read into it however you desired. And Itachi, he never spoke more than necessary.
Tonight, you got home a bit later than usual. It was one of your friends' birthdays, and you stayed late to celebrate with everyone before taking a taxi home.
You went down the dark halls of the estate. Only the sound of rippling water and rustling leaves accompanied you. Itachi's office door, normally closed and silent, was slightly open today. The warm glow of a table lamp spilled out.
The warmth wasn't inviting, you were a moth lured in rather than a welcomed guest. Itachi wasn't inside, so you were a bit more daring than you should have been.
Mismatched books on the shelf, folders stacked without care but not messy, and minimal decor that seemed to come out of a catalogue rather than a personal choice. His laptop was closed, but it still felt warm when you ran your fingers on the surface. Itachi must have left recently, then.
At the corner of his desk, next to the warm, glowy lamp, were two simple picture frames. One of them was a childhood picture of Itachi, his brother, and their parents. They all smiled brightly, a vision completely different from the cold expressions you barely see passing by in the halls.
Then the other picture was the wedding photo of you and Itachi. You had to tip your hat to the army of staff employed by the Uchiha that chose everything you wore because you looked good enough to be in a bridal catalogue. There was a soft smile on your lips, a natural expression of relief, and maybe a slight hunger for the cake you got to choose. But Itachi, you noticed, was looking down at you. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, his lips sealed without even a ghost of a smile. But you didn't know red eyes could look so soft when you weren’t looking.
The faint smell of smoke still lingered in the room. Itachi must have smoked while he was working. You picked the pack of cigarettes up and looked at it. You couldn't tell if it was expensive or not, whether it was worth it to slowly kill himself.
You felt the warm grip of strong fingers before you ever heard anything, his presence against your back oppressive. Goosebumps spread across your skin, the scent of smoke more concentrated than ever.
"Of all the things to pick up, you chose the most fatal one." Itachi tightened his grip on your wrist.
With his arms enveloping you, he gently took the packet out of your palm. Itachi then let go of your wrist and stepped back, his warmth a ghost on your skin.
"I was just curious." You said, looking up at him.
Red eyes looked back at you, unreadable as ever. Itachi put the pack of cigarettes back in his pocket.
"Don't come home so late next time, it's unsafe." He warned, voice low from the smoke.
"I know how to take care of myself." You answered firmly.
"Do you?" Itachi tilted his head and gave you an imploring look. "Do you know how many attempts have been made to hurt you since you became my wife? Do you know how many times I have stopped them before you ever got as much as a scratch?"
A chill went down your back. You knew the risk, but you dismissed it. Sure, you were Itachi's wife, and his opponents who couldn't harm him directly could come for you instead. But the title only stopped at being a title. It had no substantial weight that could be used to get a reaction out of Itachi, let alone hurt him.
Or at least you thought so.
"Do you know how much your pretty little head is worth?" Itachi asked mockingly, coming close to you and tilting your chin up to meet his burning red gaze.
"No matter what you are implying, I'm not staying locked in this house." You answered firmly. “You can’t simply scare me like that.”
"I give you too much freedom, so you forget that you're my wife." Itachi leaned in, his grip on your chin turned biting. “Maybe you need a baby to remind you of that.”
You let out a cold laugh. A baby? Were you supposed to be terrified at that? Scared to be his in the most permanent way? Ever since Itachi appeared in your life, your gaze was irrevocably locked on him, on the silence he let linger, on the empty spaces he left behind. And your mind couldn’t help but wander, lured by red eyes and smoke and what you eventually realised was the iron tang of blood on his clothes, that you wanted to be burned as his. So, how did he think a baby would really make you feel when you’re already beyond saving?
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Itachi.” You sealed your lips on his.
You had kissed him before, part of the act to convince everyone that you were his wife, to convince yourself that Itachi thought of you as his. But this was different, you pulled him in yourself, you seared your lips on his, and it burned like iron, a binding contract that singed and scarred, and went beyond your sham vows or any kind of arrangements you made for a shared last name. You wanted him to mean it when he said that, to know that if he was the fire engulfing you in warmth and ashes, then you could be the spark that set him aflame.
Itachi’s hand braced your neck and your lower back like he had always wanted this, wanted you. The kiss deepened as you licked into his mouth, the taste and scent of him more than just synthetic notes of nicotine and aftershave overwhelmed your senses. You grew greedy for it instantly, a fire burning in you that was insatiable for fuel. Your movements turned erratic, your hands clutching the back of his shirt as if you would fall off a cliff if you let go.
“Slow down.” Itachi parted from you, a silver string connecting your lips gleaming in the dim light. “Are you–”
“Don’t you know what you’ve been doing to me? You come so close, touch me like I’m yours, then say things like that just to pull away all cold like a stranger!” You said, frustrated, your fists hammered against his chest. “Can you make up your mind already on how you feel about me?”
Itachi looked at you, stunned. You could feel his heart in his chest, pumping in time with yours like a hammer striking hot red iron. You have never spoken up like this to him, to anyone, so frustrated and hurt. You needed an answer, and you needed it now, so your mind can stop wandering and be at peace.
“Tell me, how am I supposed to feel?” You looked at him, and you didn’t know what expression you were making, but his gaze softened.
The red in his eyes melted as his lids lowered, looking down at you like you were loved and not mail-ordered. And you hated that because you believed it, you want to believe you are loved. Even though you were taught that it was not possible, that an arrangement like this only stopped at a cold metal band on your finger and a distant last name you now shared.
“You were crying the first time I met you,” Itachi spoke with reverence, his hands cradling your head and hips like you were something precious. “You didn’t even bother wiping your tears when you turned to stare at me.”
You looked at him, stunned. So he remembered? … Itachi not only remembered he once met you briefly outside that hotel, but he remembered you were crying, something that you yourself tried to forget. Because why would you want to remember the way your ‘date’ looked at you like a prized cattle? How cold they spoke when they considered if your name was worth the price. Or how they would grip at your flesh to see what else they could get out of the deal. So you change the narrative in your head, choose words like “less than satisfactory” because that is the only freedom you can clutch tight.
“I can’t say that I’m a kind person, that I married you out of the goodness of my heart with no ulterior motives.” He leaned closer to you, his nose brushing yours before speaking so softly into your ear, setting all your nerves alight. “But I couldn’t help but be careful with you when you came to me so broken already. So I held back, at least I tried to.”
You must still be drunk because why did your heart tighten at this? His silence has made you overthink for months, the space he put between you and him confusing and frustrating. But you were soft, easy and trusting no matter what lies you tell yourself.
“But you don’t want me to hold back, don’t you?” Itachi whispered, and before your neurons could even understand what was going on, he bit your ear.
You went weak in the knees, the sensation of his teeth on the shell of your ear, his breath so warm it hit straight into your brain. Itachi then licked at the bite like he was sorry, his wet tongue on your sensitive nerves made you tremble.
“You’re so sensitive and I haven’t even undressed you yet.” He pulled back to look at you, all dishevelled and in his arms. His hand slid down your side before landing on your lower stomach, feeling how soft you are, how you can swell up with his child. “Let me make good on my words and really put a baby in you. You would let me, would you?”
You nodded, because of course you would. Because you have never felt so enthralled with a man as the moment you looked at Itachi for the first time, or the second, or every time after that. Because when he looked back at you, it had always been undeniably soft, burning and devastating in a way you will never be looked at by anyone else.
“Say it for me,” Itachi said. “Please, tell me exactly what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, to put a baby in me and make me feel good. Please do it for me because I can’t stand the empty space between us anymore.” You cried, grasping the collar of his shirt tightly because you couldn’t stand without him.
Itachi didn’t need any more permission than that. He picked you up swiftly but carefully, your arms immediately circled his neck as you buried your face in his chest. Itachi practically ran down the hall towards your shared bedroom with you in his arms before placing you down on the bed and locking the door.
Looking up at him from bed with nothing but moonlight dancing on his skin, Itachi was a vision of desire and lust. He brushed back his dishevelled hair, his red eyes glowed as the blood in his veins boiled, his hand unbuttoning his shirt. You blushed hard, embarrassed to look at him, embarrassed at what he saw when he was looking at you.
As if reading your thoughts, Itachi pinned your wrist above your head, then made quick work of your shirt before you could even speak a word of protest.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He spoke into your ear. “It’s not like you can hide your body from me during sex.”
“It’s not that– it’s just I’m probably boring to look at…” You stuttered, flushed and squirmed in his hold. “It’s not like I’m particularly fit or … anything.”
Itachi had the audacity to chuckle into your skin as he licked at your exposed neck, his hand gripping and guiding your thighs to wrap around him. You couldn’t help but let out pleased whines that absolutely delighted him.
“I don’t know which manchild put those silly thoughts in your head.” He said between sucking hickeys into your skin, turning you into a twitching mess. “But no grown man would complain about things like that when he gets a woman like you to undress in bed.”
Itachi let go of your wrist as his lips wandered lower, past your collarbone to suck at one of your nipples. You couldn’t help but arch your spine up to give him better access, your nails clawing at his back already as you let out debauched sounds you didn’t know you could make. Itachi flicked your other nipple, playing with it until both buds were red and upright. His other hand went past your waistband to cup at your cunt below, finding you already warm and wet for him.
“Don’t worry, it’s not like I will ever let you be in anyone else’s bed but mine.” Itachi spoke into your skin as he trailed kisses down your abdomen, having you twitch at every touch as he eased his first finger into you.
“Itachi–” You winced at the intrusion for a moment before his head dipped lower between your thighs, his tongue immediately working on your clit.
The double stimulation got you delirious, your slick leaking out, making the noise of him working you open even louder. You squirmed, your body trembled, and your hips moved as you couldn’t decide whether to push him away or get him deeper inside you. Itachi gripped your thigh and pressed you down, keeping you right where he wanted as he added another finger and curled it up just right until you saw stars.
“Itachi–” You whined again, breathless. His red eyes looked up at you from between your legs as his fingers and tongue worked your cunt, pliant and needy.
Any less restraint and that vision could make you cum right there. But your greedy little heart still wanted to go further.
“Put it in, please.” You moaned, threaded your fingers through his hair to push him away despite how much you would miss the contact. “Want to cum with you inside me.”
“I have barely worked your tight cunt open.” He spoke, fingers still pumping in and out of you in a devastating tease. “It might not–”
“It will fit!” You cut him off, flustered. “I’ll adjust, I’ll take you, all of you.”
“Fine, I’ll go slow.” He relented and rose from between your thighs.
Itachi took his fingers out of you, causing a little noise of disappointment to come out of your throat that you hoped he didn’t hear. He looked at his slicked fingers, glistening from your arousal, then his red eyes locked with yours. They burned you raw as he licked the slick clean off his fingers.
“You– you didn’t have to do that.” You stuttered, but you couldn’t look away. There was a crazed look in his eyes, fueled by lust and love that mirrored your own desperation.
“But I want to,” Itachi answered like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I want to do that and so much more. You’re only starting to see how deep my greed for you can go.”
His hands lowered to unzip his pants, the edge of his boxers hugging his hips exactly like how it would on underwear models, selling their product with sex. No money could buy what comes next as Itachi finally freed his cock, the head has the most delicious curve that promised to hit your insides everywhere that matters. It was already hard, red at the tip and drooled with precum for you.
Before you could think better, you reached your hand out to touch his cock, first teasing the head before giving it an experimental pump, eliciting a hiss from Itachi. It felt so hot under your touch, twitching and sensitive. He put his hand over yours, guiding your motion as he leaned in, licking a stripe up your neck.
“Do you understand what’s going to fill you up?” He spoke into your ear, making your cunt water in anticipation. “Your enthusiasm is cute, but it’s better to take it slow. We have the entire night to satisfy your every need.”
You bite your lip, your anxiety and eagerness mixed into heat that makes every nerve in your body more sensitive than ever. You shook your head before reaching up to press a deep kiss on his lips, no hesitation as you parted your lips open to taste him. Itachi's eyes widened in surprise before responding with equal fervour. Your hand was still pumping him, each slide felt like heaven as the soft skin of your hand touched him with so much love.
Not wasting the moment, you reversed the scene and pushed him down on the bed by his shoulder, straddling your thighs on either side of his hips to trap him beneath you. You rubbed your wet pussy against his length, the tip catching on your clit made you both see stars.
“You are impossible–” Itachi’s hands braced your hips, grabbing a handful of your flesh as his hips moved in tandem with yours.
“And you are a liar.” You cut him off, hardly keeping your words steady as the pressure on your clit drove you wild. “You’re so painfully hard underneath me, just praying I would let you slip in any second now, aren’t you? All that about prepping me, but we both know every second you’re not in me is agonising for you.”
Your words took him by surprise, his grip on you tightened, and his eyes narrowed. You could see him open his mouth for a retort, but you already lifted your hips and guided his cock to your entrance. You sunk down on Itachi and cut off anything he wanted to say, stealing a groan of pleasure from his throat.
The stretch had you dizzy in pain laced with pleasure, the moans you made animalistic in need. Itachi didn’t snap his hips up to bully his cock into you, his fingers instead digging into your skin as a restraint despite you testing whatever little patience he had left. When you finally took in all of his length, Itachi let out a grunt of pleasure, his cock filling you perfectly and setting alight nerves you could never have on your own.
“Are you gonna be a good girl and ride me until you’re nice and bred?” Itachi mouthed against your ear, his hands like chains branding your waist. “I can only be kind for so long until I have to take what’s mine.”
You shut him up with your own lips, the wet slide of your mouth against his as your nails dug into his back and you started to move your hips. For such a normally quiet person, how hungrily Itachi talked really affected you, making you feel loved and desired till your brain turned soft and dumb. You set a steady tempo, getting used to his cock inside of you, pressing on all the spots that make you melt as sweat and sex clung to both your skins.
“Tell me Itachi,” you let out breathless gasps as the rhythm of his cock pounding your womb increased, his hands on your waist and his hips eagerly thrust to meet your movements. “Tell me how good I am for you.”
“My perfect little wife is so good for me.” Itachi moaned into your ear, trailing kisses and bruises across your neck and jaw, making sure you were all his. “You’re gonna be so pretty all round and pregnant when I put this baby in you.”
Those words stirred your insides more than any pornographic thirst traps ever did. Pleasure coiled like a spring as you picked up the pace as much as your shaky legs could handle. Itachi fucked up into your cunt, his cock bringing you closer to heaven with each thrust. He flicked your cunt, killing the remaining pieces of sanity you have left.
You’ve never been on drugs, but you couldn’t imagine a feeling of ecstasy that hit deeper than this. Being loved and bred fulfils that little deep dark spot in your heart that always yearned for things you were told to sacrifice for last names and prestige, meaningless things that won’t ever satisfy your true desires. Finally, you could be honest with yourself that you love Itachi, honest with the world of that love when you walk around carrying the proof of it in your soon-to-be pregnant belly.
“You’re never getting away from me now, darling, not when you’re heavy with my child.” Itachi’s words burned into a brand on your soft skin, the unrestrained obsession dark yet absolutely delicious.
“I’m close–” You gasped with all the breath you had left from his cock and finger pleasuring your cunt and clit.
“Cum for me, love. Show me how much love I make you feel.” He said, words gleaming with want.
That was enough to send you over the edge, cumming on his cock just like you wanted as your walls clenched around him like a vice. You let out a cry, so overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion that you could no longer tell if this was heaven or earth. But Itachi wasn’t stopping, he only fucked you harder as you writhed in his hold.
“Itachi– too much–” You whined into his sweat-slicked skin, hoping he would go easy on your overly sensitive nerves.
“Be good for me now.” He rolled you on your back before hooking your legs up into a mating press. “Soon I’m gonna be filling up your tight cunt so full you’re gonna walk around dripping with me for days.”
His thrusts turned relentless, hitting you deep and hard with each rolling movement of his hips. You could see in the haze of your vision his lustful expression, utterly beautiful in its debauched state and burning red eyes. For him, you were better than the nicotine he poisoned himself with or the shallow power and wealth he held. He couldn’t have you parted from him. He would have to make sure you would never leave him.
Another thrust and Itachi cummed deep into your womb, marking you as his and filling you full with his seeds. He chased his high with you squirming in overstimulated pleasure beneath him. You were the best for him, fucked dumb and perfect until you were filled with his babies. He held you tight in his arms as he slowed down to a stop, cock tightly plugging your tender cunt so no cum would trickle out.
“You were perfect, darling.” Itachi whispered into your damp skin, content with holding you until he was sure you were well bred.
Looking down at your face, red and delirious from sex, Itachi wondered if he had gone overboard. You were such a delicate thing in his arm, craving and now holding so much love inside you, even if you were a little brat with how you demanded it.
“A-again…”
“You want to go again?” Itachi asked, surprised.
You nodded, eyes hazed with lust yet still so utterly pure. How could he ever deny you anything?
“... I really should have married you sooner.”
…
Itachi took in another deep inhale of his cigarette as he stood on the balcony. The full moon and some glowing garden lamps were the only source of lights around.
Of course, there was also you. Sleeping so peacefully in his bed and already pregnant with his child.
Itachi was having his smoke break when he saw you through the window of your workplace. The nicotine was neither pleasant nor pleasurable, more calming than anything, ice that dampened whatever twisted flame burned inside him.
You were on a phone call then, trying and failing to keep in your tears as you listened. Itachi had seen tears before, heard desperate pleads and snot-filled cries, all which disgusted him. They didn’t look like you, all red and sweet in a way that made his heart squeeze, and his lungs ached, more intoxicating than any substance he could use. He needed to make you feel the same.
You were right in saying that Itachi was a liar. He dealt in half-truths and deceit. He found out everything there was to know about you the day you caught his eyes. Itachi learned how your last name climbed through the social ladder and could be bought by the highest bidder. But you wouldn’t have loved him if you were just mail-ordered, now would you?
To capture a prey with fear and force meant it would fight back tooth and nail for freedom. But for the prey to love its captor, it needed to be starved. When it is at its lowest, hungry and yearning for a sliver of hope, the captor can finally feed it with all the sustenance and affection it craved. The prey would then love its captor with its whole heart, there wouldn’t even be a need for a collar around its pretty little neck.
So Itachi did whatever had to be done. He had the worst men amongst the rich and powerful, and he really didn’t have to try hard to find them, to be arranged on dates with you. He watched the light slowly leave your eyes after every hour you spent with those pigs, burnt and exhausted until you were drenched in tears.
When Itachi appeared, he didn’t have to be a knight in white armour, he just had to be tolerable. A lifetime of your emotions being disregarded, of being disrespected and weighed like nothing but flesh, could take the soul out of you along with any standards you ought to be having. His affection only trickled out in drops, and your thirst was worse than that of someone stuck in an endless desert. Silence was a measured weapon the way Itachi used it. His presence was distant yet insistent, touching your skin only a little longer than ‘necessary’, but always long enough to make your mind wander. Softness and warmth only invited more delusions of how good it must feel if you were really loved.
The pieces fell into place when you went into his office, a lured moth to his flame. You were a greedy thing yourself, you couldn’t stand being given so little much longer. He responded back with his own greed and gave you everything you wanted. Wasn’t that so nice of him?
Itachi put out his cigarette. He won’t be needing it anymore.