#tw:darkcontent

He’s intuitive to tell you don’t like your clan. The few times he’s met them, they weren’t the politest to him either since he comes from a non-sorcerer family but it’s still strange that they treat a total stranger way better than their own clan member. It clicks more when you explain he’s “pureblood” and you’re not, so they like you even less.

He becomes a bit more protective of you after that, inviting you to hang out with him since you two non-sorcerer blooded people should stick together. It seems to take some of your apprehension away.

It still makes him angry to think about though, even more frustrated whenever your other clan members ignore his speeches on how you’re all sorcerers and that they should treat each other with more care.

They obviously don’t appreciate it, but you do. So, his main goal is to at least make you feel better about the situation through little jokes here and there and trying to convince you that you shouldn’t worry about them because the school can be your family now.

He knows it doesn’t completely fix everything, but he hopes you can see that at least the rest of them care about you.  

Megumi

Like Geto, he can tell beforehand that you’re uncomfortable talking about your family. You get the same look he does when someone new accidentally asks him about his family, both his father and his connection with the Zen’in clan.

Megumi always figures it’s not in his place to ask, when you’re ready to talk about it, you will. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t really become an issue until he sees you actually interact with your family, and how nasty they could be with you, overtly and the disgustingly passive, micro-aggressive way that only old family lines could pull off.

As much as you hate how your family treats you and as much as you hate explaining it to him, you’re more worried that telling others will make them realize that you’re no good and that the other students wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore if they found out about your status and the fact half your family weren’t from here, let alone sorcerers, which is a big reason why you never shared the information.

Megumi doesn’t really care about what most people think especially people who he considers trash. You’re sweet and kind, and that’s really all that matters to him, so you shouldn’t think that he nor the others wouldn’t be your friend because of your birth.

He has no problem telling your nosier cousins that he’s friends with you because he thinks you’re the most outstanding member of your clan—only when asked though.

He will never give you the time to question him or to doubt your relationship together. Any “buts” or “Megumi—” about you not wanting to bring him into your family life or to try to distance yourself is met with “Don’t care” or “No,” to shut down that line of thoughts.

It becomes a little more common for you to spend the night over in his dorm instead of going home at night but he’s still working on convincing you to give up your family entirely like he did.

Gojo

Gojo keeps trying to wiggle himself in your life any chance he gets. He really likes meeting new people especially during high school, you’re included in that when you join his second year.

Unfortunately, you don’t like him for some reason, you don’t like him. You keep avoiding him and barely talk to him, and it’s killing him to know why. Because who could hate him?

It takes a long time of poking at you (your sides specifically) and teasing you to finally get you to admit that your family told you not to talk to him, not to draw his attention, don’t so much as breathe near him. Because you should be lucky to go to the same school as a member of the Gojo Clan, let alone THE heir, and that you shouldn’t be a burden to him.

“Oh, is that right?” Once you tell him your clan’s name (the name you couldn’t use because they didn’t want you representing them) then he fully understands. He knows them well enough.

He immediately wants to go to your house. He wants to visit, in fact Suguru should go! And why not Shoko, too? He’s going to live up the royal treatment from your folks, even as you protest for him not to go. Maybe he’ll ask for all the good drinks and put his feet up on their fancy table?

But why not? He just wants to talk to them and tell them about his new best friend in the world: you. He wants to tell them how he’s so happy how well they treat his adorable little underclassman. And, oh, your room is so tiny, smaller than his walk-in closet, and there’s nothing in there, almost like they only now remember the room exists since he asked about your room. Haven’t they ever thought about getting you a bigger space? Oh, they were planning to let you move into the guest room? Great idea! Wow, then you’re definitely going to need some new clothes to fill that nice new closet, he’ll have to send some. And it’d be rude if he sees someone else in the clothes his clan gifted specifically for you, huh?

When asked why he decided to do that, he says he already told you why: you’re his cute little underclassman.

And he always treats you as such too. Always buying you things to take home and pampering you. Always inviting you out to eat with him and telling you to eat up because he can’t finish it all by himself, and that pretty girls should eat a lot and that you should try every dessert at a new bakery with him.

He constantly asks about your family life now too, to make sure you’re still doing okay, and that when you graduate you should leave them because you don’t owe them anything for being a child who needed help.

Nobara

She’s seeing red when she sees you hurt or when she sees you cry. Society already treats women so awful, and it hurts seeing you be treated evilly by people who are supposed to care about you.

There’s no stopping her when she puts her mind to something. Normally, you could convince her not to retaliate against your family but when she sees any mark on you it’s the last straw.

She’s going to gather your things and kick over that stupid excuse for a “room” they’ve given you and bring you with her. She doesn’t care if she has to share her small space with you as long as you’re safe. She’s sure Gojo can get a new dorm ready for you in no time flat, so it isn’t even a big deal to be sharing a bed for a little while with you.

It feels warm and safe in her hold, and she doesn’t forget to ever tell you how much she loves you and how wonderful a person you are, that she admires you for always being so kind despite your upbringing.

She isn’t afraid to tell you that you don’t owe those people shit while also promising to take you out for new clothes and something to eat. The guilt eats at her for not protecting you sooner, and it makes her want to punch the wall every time she’d think of how dizzy you would get somedays. She had her suspicions but didn’t trust her gut. She promises herself not to make that mistake again.

Anytime you need to do anything with your family, she makes you promise to tell her and let her come with you or one of the others.

Itadori

You manage to pull the wool over his eyes for longer than you expected. You tell him that your family means well and that it’s tough love. Itadori understands that to a small degree. His grandpa was a little ornery, but Itadori always could tell that his grandpa loved him. Megumi can be a bit abrasive, but Itadori can tell Megumi cares about them. With your family, he doesn’t get that vibe.

It’s even worse than he thinks when he finally hears from your own mouth what’s going on, so much that he wants to cry for you because you won’t do it for yourself because you’ve gotten so used to the treatment that even your own body adapted, all because you feel like you can’t be ungrateful and leave your family.

He’ll do the best that he can to help, assisting you in running your errands so that you can have a break, but he still feels so lost because even if he wanted to fight them, he can’t attack an entire clan, and he doesn’t have the weight to do something about it himself especially when you beg him to keep between the two of you.

He’s trying so desperately to convince you that none of your home life is normal while you bury down that fact that you know he’s right.

Itadori quickly makes it one of his ultimate goals to save you like he wants to do with everyone else he meets. Sure, he can’t save everyone, and sure, he can’t exactly get rid of Sukuna just yet, but you’re right here in front of him, and he should be able to save you because he loves you.

•---------•

ATTACK ON TITAN

@sinnerofthewalls - Erwin Smith x Reader [coming soon!]

HAIKYUU

@pomsuki - Rintarou Suna x Reader [coming soon!]

MY HERO ACADEMIA

@dabilove27 - Dabi x Reader

@andifiwasblessed - Denki Kaminari x Reader [coming soon!]

TOKYO REVENGERS

@fionarara - Ken Ryuguuji x Reader [coming soon!]

@thesimpsclub - Rindou Haitani x Reader

MISCELLANEOUS

@lady-lunaaa - Edward Elric (FMA) x Reader

ATTACK ON TITAN

@terushimooo - Erwin Smith & Levi Ackerman x Reader [coming soon!]

@erwinsn1simp - Erwin Smith & Miche Zacharias x Reader [coming soon!]

@nighttimescribbles - Multiple x Reader (gangbang)

HAIKYUU

@pomsuki - Rintarou Suna x Reader [coming soon!]

JUJUTSU KAISEN

@starryenigma - Mahito x Reader

@cyancherub - Megumi & Toji Fushiguro x Reader [coming soon!]

@martellprincess-writes​ - Satoru Gojo x Reader

@lord-explosion-baku - Yuji Itadori x Reader [coming soon!]

MY HERO ACADEMIA

@kingkatsuki - Eijirou Kirishima & Yo Shindou x Reader [coming soon!]

@spacelabrathor - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader [coming soon!]

TOKYO REVENGERS

@pockcock - Kazutora Hanemiya x Reader [coming soon!]

@sweetnsinfull - Shuji Hanma x Reader

@titan-fodder - Tetta Kisaki x Reader

MISCELLANEOUS

@pockcock - Shin-ah (Akatsuki No Yona) x Reader [coming soon!]

@andifiwasblessed - Frank Castle (Marvel) x Reader [coming soon!]

ATTACK ON TITAN

@ghost-party - Kenny Ackerman x Reader

@starstruckkittensweets - Kenny, Levi, & Mikasa Ackerman x Reader 

HAIKYUU

@prettyiwa - Issei Matsukawa & Takahiro Hanamaki x Reader [coming soon!]

@rivendell101 - Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader

 JUJUTSU KAISEN

@karikarasuno - Choso x Reader

@mindninjax - Toji Fushiguro x Reader [coming soon!]

 MY HERO ACADEMIA

@whats-her-quirk - Hitoshi Shinsou & Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

@spacelabrathor - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

@itsleese - Shouto Todoroki x Reader [coming soon!]

TOKYO REVENGERS

@theygottheircages - Ken Ryuguji x Reader [coming soon!]

@aces-high - Rindou Haitani x Reader

MISCELLANEOUS

@thegetoufather - Itachi Uchiha (Naruto) x Reader

@chiwhorei - Jiraiya (Naruto) x Reader 

Naoya smiles, absolutely amused by your frustration. “Fine, but don’t think you can keep up this defiant attitude forever,” he warns but you refuse to take his bait and focus on fixing your wrinkled clothes.

Huffing, you wrap your arm around the bedpost to keep yourself steady all the while controlling your breathing to allow your frustration to wash away. Naoya busies himself, speedily pacing around the room and collecting his things.

“Where are you going?” Your question isn’t out of concern for him. Simply, you question to figure out exactly how much peace you’d have for the night and how much hope to build up that he might never return from where he’s going.

“The men in the clan are throwing me a little party,” he explains. “Call it a last night of freedom.”

“Typical.” You don’t know why you thought he’d at least have the decency to pretend to be a good husband in public. “Don’t know why I expected any better.”

“Isn’t it normal to want to celebrate our impending marriage?” He turns to you and a slither of a hand crisscrossing over your thigh makes you want to hurl. “Unless you want me to stay. We can work on making our very own Megumi tonight.”

You cringe and jerk your body away from him, your filter breaking in the process. “You’re disgusting. A pathetic excuse for a man jealous of a boy half—” you didn’t get to finish your complaint as he shoved you to the floor and the sting of a kick makes you yelp like a dog.

“I see I still got to teach you some respect come tomorrow.”

Despite the burning in your ribs, you count yourself lucky that he only kicked you twice this time, and you slowly stand to your feet when you hear the angelic sound of your room door closing.

You throw on your jacket and a pair of jeans before following his example and leaving the room. You’re not sure how long you aimlessly wander the streets of Tokyo with no particular destination in mind. If you had somewhere to call home, then you probably would never return. Alas, the closest thing you can achieve to peace is being far away from your family.

“What are you doing out by yourself?” You guess you couldn’t escape all of them as you come face to face with your brother. “It isn’t safe to be out by yourself.”

And you notice how he shifts his gaze to a low-level curse blended into the surroundings of the city. It hides and chitters behind the light post. It’s nothing you consider more than the fireflies of cursed spirits, fluttering around human metro areas, and they’re about as equally as threatening as said bugs. But you guess in his eyes, you’re someone who needs protection, which you think you would have liked having someone to protect you at some point in your life but it’s about ten years too late and now unnecessary. 

“I don’t get to go out to the city much, and I guess I got a little lost,” you explain.

“I’m heading back now if you want to follow,” he offers to your surprise.

You didn’t expect him to offer since he hasn’t been able to build up the courage to talk to you very often. The day he first saw you even, you could see the shock spreading across his feature. You thought it was from seeing his estranged sister after all this time until you realize he had absolutely no idea who you were other than the Zen’in princess staying at the school for the next few days along with the other great clans attending the wedding. Figures for Toji not to mention you. You wonder if your father even remembers your name.

Then, you find that he’s often watching you, which garners the familiar sinking sensation inside you of being hunted. Luckily, he never attempted to do anything other than catch the little flickers of your image or to embarrassedly avoid your gaze when it met his. When you managed to talk to him, it was friendly, if not a little awkward. It didn’t take you long to figure out he’s attracted to you, at least sexually. If there was something more, you didn’t know since you weren’t versed in the world of genuine emotion aside from anger and deceit rampant in the Zen’in clan.

You wonder if his attraction is another reason Naoya is wary of you being alone with him. There’s no doubt the clan would much rather you try to produce an heir with Megumi, the potential rewards outweighing the risks of such a union. You almost laugh imagining how pissed off Naoya would look if your engagement switched over. He’d probably explode if he even knew you were talking to your brother. So, who can fault you for wanting to tease the situation a little bit? Maybe if you get lucky, Naoya will catch the two of you together as you walk past the neon lights of the bars and clubs, and you could gaslight him about it later.

It's like magic how easy it is to make the waterworks start, a sniffle then two swiped away by the long arm of your jacket. Megumi’s knuckles beat at the back of your hand, his fingertips nervously curling under yours before fluttering back to the safety of his side, too afraid to take the plunge to hold an engaged woman’s hand even if she’s crying. Even if the tiny pitter patters in his chest when he looked at her told him she deserved better than the obviously swollen cheek on your face. Megumi curses under his breath. He wants to tell you that you should run away from that family, don’t look back, burn the bridge so they can’t follow, but that’s easier said than done.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, knowing that it would never be enough, but the words are all he can offer right now. He hopes it is enough so you can at least find comfort when he finally breaks the resistance in his mind to hold your hand. You accept the action readily, making a shiver goes down his spine when you smile back and intertwine your fingers with his.

When you reach your room back at the school, he sits with you on your bed and places a gauze over your cheek to help with the swelling. Can’t let the Zen’in princess walk around with a wound on her face. You almost feel guilty for playing with him like this. He’s kinder than most people you’ve met. Then you remember, if he had grown up in the clan, he probably would’ve treated you the same as everyone else. He’d probably scrambled to marry you, just like Naoya.

You’re unashamedly jealous that he had the good fortune to be born a blessing, with a dad that chose him, leaving a part of you that wanted to spite Megumi as well. It’s a selfish desire but you deserve to have something. Megumi owes you that ever since your father married his mother and left the clan.

“I’ll get some ice.”

You grip his arm, drawing his attention back to you before he has a chance to get up. “What would I have to offer for you to take me away from this place,” you ask him. It’s always something you wanted to ask Toji; how many letters would it take for him to choose to rescue you, too. But now it’s too late as the only thing remaining for you is to scrape up as much fairness as you can from this world, even if it means doing it until your hands bleed.

“You know I can’t do that,” Megumi answers after what seems like an eternity, knowing now more than ever he shouldn’t be here, alone, with you. Weeping, you crane towards him, gripping the front of his shirt with both fists and dropping your head against his chest. You can sense him physically tensing at your touch, his heavy breathing echoing above you, and he’s a step awkward when he finally makes the decision to cup the back of your head in a short hug.

When you pull away, he’s searching for something you can’t quite understand, with an emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of knowing as you catch a highlight of sorrow flashing in his eyes. His thumb brushes away a fresh tear leaking from you. It invites the opportunity for you to give him what he’s probably been thinking about for a while now in the form of parted glossed covered skin and soft sighs. There’s a split moment of uncertainty before he gives in and kisses you back. You take the time to savor the moment, drawing it out to reel him further in with the taste of your lips and the flex of your tongues bumping together.

His hands tread around you, squeezing you into his strong hold. The tightness and desperateness at which he hangs onto you reveals that you might have had more influence over him than you originally realized, and you also find that you like his build much better than your fiancé’s, strong and muscular but not overbearing. Sweetly, you paint his neck with gentle kisses, and you test the waters of desire with a needy squeeze of his crotch.

The groan from his lips along with the arching of his hips up into your touch jolts your heart even if it’s the result you wanted. It’s almost perfect. You take the extra step to settle yourself onto his lap and lower your arms around his shoulders to play with the hair at his nape. “Naoya is never gentle, but you would be gentle with me, wouldn’t you, Fushiguro?”

Megumi swallows thickly to where you can see his Adam’s apple bob, and you can hear his throat is dry as he tries to collect and voice his thoughts with a harsh rasp. “…We shouldn’t,” he chokes out, which makes you want to scream. “It’ll only make things worse.”

“No one has to know,” you try to pedal back, letting the line out a little bit to give him enough room to relax before reeling him back in. “I thought maybe…you liked me.”

“You’re getting the wrong idea. I want to but,” he admits, not that you needed to hear it when you can feel the imprint of his dick against your ass, “you’re not in your head right now.”

“I am thinking clearly, Fushiguro,” you correct. You’re probably thinking more clearly than you ever had before. You only needed this one thing. “I just…need to know what it feels like, to have someone care about me, please just this once.”

And maybe he really does think he’s your knight as you look to him pleadingly to solve all your problems in the world with something he can only give you. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Probably not until morning,” you answer. Though, you really hope he comes home sooner. You’d trade your very soul to have him walk in on this scene, with your legs spread over Megumi’s lap and his large hands climbing up your backside.

“More than enough time then,” he mumbles, tenderly drawing circles into your hips before flipping you over and closing you onto the bed. He watches your face, taking a few deep breaths as his mind keeps repeating that he’s really doing this with you, that you’re much more gorgeous underneath him than he’d imagined.

If this is a dream, he hopes he doesn’t wake up. You’re so, so beautiful, and his heart swells when he thinks you’ll look even more dreamy in your wedding dress.

Megumi kisses your cheek then your jaw as he begins to push up your jacket and shirt, exposing your stomach to his series of kisses and nips. It’s like he’ll never be able to get enough of you fast enough. Hopefully, you wouldn’t see him as desperate from the way he cautiously squeezes your waist and nuzzle into the warmth of your chest.

You hold in a hiss as he too accurately drags over your wounded side. The pain only makes you more excited as it reminds you of your fiancé, of the fact that you’re about to fuck the man who irritates him the most in the very spot he sleeps in, and you can’t wait to rub the fact in his face that he isn’t going to be the one to rid you of your virtue like he so bragged. Instead, your little brother would have the honor since he so clambered for the chance to fuck his own sister without so much as even questioning your position on the family tree, a circle at this rate surely. You wonder if you should ask if that turned him on as he pushes your top above your head.

A smile slivers on your face. “That isn’t fair, you need to undress too,” you tell him. He folds and listens to you without argument; and you can’t deny that it was making you excited to have him under your commands the same way everything about you made him excited from your lips teasing at his neck, the way your hands glide over his bare skin, the squeeze of your thighs cushioning around his hips.

You weren’t expecting him to get hard so fast, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. You have plenty of time, and the more he can give the better for you.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, and it makes your lungs burn from the sharp gasp you take in as he sucks on your nipple. You’d have to remember to tell Naoya that Megumi thought—you squash the thought. It was too painful to think about, and you wanted to focus on other things as he begins to pull off your pants.

This is something Megumi thinks Naoya wouldn’t probably do for you, and he almost asks if your fiancé has ever thought about more than his own pleasure but the glossy look in your eyes tells him to not bring up something that would undoubtedly cause you more heartache, not when you’re crooning into the air and your hands are tangling into his hair in desperate grips to match the feeling washing over you.

He starts, gently at first, but harder as your moans escalate with the shifting of his tongue over your clit. You tense as you feel something cold entering you but quickly start arching when he adds a second finger, pressing and tickling at your sensitive nerves.

“Fushiguro,” you whisper in strangled breaths, stomach convulsing with each knotted clench of your lower body. And he hopes, at least this much, will make him someone you think about in the future when your hands release his hair to grip the sheets under you.

Though, you’re too busy thinking it might be worth having your engagement switched over if he can use his tongue like that, in a way that has your vision skipping.

He’s definitely self-satisfied by the time he’s finished and gazing up at you. But it isn’t enough to satisfy you, not until you seal the deal, go all the way until there’s absolutely no ignoring what’s happened between the two of you.

You sit up to kiss him hard, catching him by surprise again. You don’t break away from him until you have him underneath you, your legs splayed around him, hands working fast to work down his slacks enough to uncover his cock.

He pulls onto your hips, encouraging you to stroke him along your wet cunt. He continues until he’s lined up with you, and there’s a split hesitation as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” is your answer, and you take the lead to slide yourself over his cock and begin to roll your hips to push further downward, which causes you to sigh. “Fushi-Fushiguro.”

He heaves, deep and heavy, his expression short of being taken over by lust as he ruts into you. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Good,” he states, sitting up to hug his arms around your back and kiss and bite your neck as you grind and bounce on top of him. You whimper into his skin, hiding your stuttering whimpers against his shoulder.

You grind your hips down against his, his face scrunching shut as he chokes down a moan. You can feel it, feel him pulsing harder inside you as his breathing speeds up and his chest rises and falls against the rhythm of your own.

“Close,” he spits out, hiding his head in your shoulder, and you suppose that this is much quicker than he wants by the little whimpers that escape him as he tries to hold out from the clenching of your walls around him.

You’re so close to his ear that you’re sure you can whisper to him anything as he shudders and falls into his high. “How does it feel to cum inside your older sister?” Is what you want to say if only to see the look on his face and to feel his jerking hips skip, but you needed him for just a bit longer. So, you bite your tongue and hold onto your thoughts as you feel his warmth filling you.

If having kids for the Zen’in is your destiny then you’d much prefer sneaking a Fushiguro in; and if not, you at least hope the wet spot the two of you make together will last until morning as it leaks out from under you, spreading to the sheets between your legs.

“Sorry, that was fast,” he puffs.

“No, no, it was more than enough,” you answer thankfully. You couldn’t wait to tell Naoya that your brother got to you before he had the chance.

He pulls you down and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I mean, if I could…I’d take you away from them,” he whispers along the crest of your forehead. “Let you stay with me.”

“Yes,” you answer, and Shouto moves to leave the room for your privacy. Before he can make it to the door, you stop him with the meek call of his name. “Shouto…” He pauses, his hand freezing on the door handle anxiously. “Could you help me?”

He smiles. As if you really have to ask.

”Of course,” he says, and you move into position.

You stand in front of the mirror with Shouto, your full bodies reflecting as he stands behind you and begins to help you undress. Your headdress goes on the nightstand before he returns to pull down your zipper. Shouto lets your dress fall to the floor and become lost in the mess like the others. Then, he helps pull your new outfit over your head and lace the back cords through the dozen tiny grommets.

His nervous fingers are shaking the entire time he pulls the strings across your back and into their proper holes, not out of nervousness but excitement. Every time his skin unwittingly touches yours, you do not flinch or jump away like he’s accustomed to you doing. It’s an extremely rare occurrence that you give him the honor to help you change without a fight or fidget, and he plans to savor it.

Your relaxation at his presence encourages him to touch you more, to run his hands over your shoulders more, and to place kisses on your bare skin more until he finally finishes suturing up your clothes. Clothes fit for a princess, and he the prince, your savior, the handler of such a perfectly gorgeous doll that he’ll never get tired of dressing so long as it’s the clothes of a content, protected innocent darling. Even more, he approves of how difficult it will be to run away in so many layers but he doesn’t seem to have reason to fear you ever trying to escape again any time soon. 

“How does it look?” you ask as you size yourself up in the mirror.

The sweet clutch of your cunt around him is the only thing on his mind as he licks the dryness from his lips and focuses on the strength of his hand tightening around his engorged shaft.

Katsuki pictures your glossy teary eyes, and the sweet pleading of your voice begging for your daddy to help you through your heat, and he curses himself for not being able to forget that time, for letting it be the only thing that can help get him off right now as the edge of his nails rail across his throbbing flesh.

Ever since that night, he can’t see you the same way as the little girl he’s taken care of since the day you were born instead viewing you as a potential mate to place all of his sexual desires on. Katsuki prays you don’t notice the way he looks at you now when you walk around comfortable and braless.

He tells himself he’s a good father, and that what happened was only so he could help you out of the pain of your first heat but that doesn’t explain why his mind conjure images of you straddling his lap, bouncing on top his cock as you cry out for him, telling him that you’ll be such a good girl for your daddy.

His cock twitches in his hold, pouring precum over his clenched fingers as his knot begins to swell. And how he would kill to bury it inside of you right now. He’s sure you will let him if he asks. The sweet sounds of, “I’ll help, daddy,” singing from your obedient lips.

Now, he moans, imagining your hands working over his cock, your cute face wrinkled with focus as you do your best to please him before bending down to lap your tongue over his slit.

He wonders if his rut would trigger your heat. Would you beg for him to help take care of you and cum inside your needy cunt again? Fuck, he almost hopes it happens, and you come to him, sparing him the humiliation of begging his own kid for a quick fuck.

And it’s with a shamed cry that his hips rut up, spurting cum forward onto his chest. It isn’t as strong as when he did it with you, he noticed, but it’s definitely more than the days before the two of you had sex, and it leaves him with another mess to clean up.

And he wipes as much as he can from his naked chest and goes to clean himself in the shower; and hopefully, if it’s hot enough, maybe it’ll be enough to power scrub the images of you from his head.

When he leaves his bath, nothing around his nude body except the towel around his hips to shield his nudity, he finds you, standing in his room, looking lost and wide-eyed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, gruffer than he meant, and he frowns slightly as you jump back from his gaze. Embarrassment in your eyes, you drop your gaze, and play with your fingers timidly.

“I…well…I can smell you,” you admit, and he knows what you mean. Even he can smell his own rut clouding up the room. “Can I help?” you ask endearingly. “Like you helped me?”

He scoops you into his arms, leaning you up off the cushioned floor of the basement turned home for the past five years. He couldn’t explain how this could happen. He made sure to keep anything you could use to hurt yourself away after your first attempt three years ago when you said you couldn’t take it anymore and that living under his spotlight wasn’t a life. You almost died once before, and you preferred that path over living with no prospects and nothing to look forward to except the slim bit of light entering the room whenever Katsuki would visit.

“You’ll understand one day why I did this,” he told you, but he guesses he didn’t make you understand well enough.

He doesn’t know how many times he screams your name like it’ll keep you here with him, and he shakes your body to keep your quickly fading consciousness awake. “Why? Damn it, why did you do this,” is all he can ask, but he finds you can’t tell him, and you gasping breaths only causes the blood spilling into your mouth to bubble and splatter.

It’s how he realizes what you did. He thought it was an old movie tale to bite off one’s own tongue, but you had found the determination to severe your own, and you were suffering from your own fluids overcrowding your lungs.

“Come on. You have to stay with me,” and he hopes that turning you over will solve ethe problem and get you to breath but it’s too late as he can’t find any light in your eyes. “We can fix this. I can fix this,” he thinks as it quickly crosses his mind to press his lips to yours and breath for you.

All he needs is one breath from you, one chance to fix you up. If you died, then everything he’s done in his life to keep you safe would have been meaningless. The sacrifices he has to make to keep you hidden and the life he forced you to give up wasn’t meant for this ending, the one where you leave this world at such a young age.

All he needs is for you to accept his efforts and breathe. If you give him another chance, he’ll be sure to make you happy next go around, but it’s all for not as the only thing he accomplishes is smearing the remains of your blood across his mouth.

His heart pumps slow as he settles you back onto the floor. You look so small, smaller than when you were children as your body goes limp and your head tilts off to kiss your cheek to the floor.

The world settles on his shoulders heavily as the realization creeps on him like a sudden chill, the realization that this is where your future ends. You won’t be able to see tomorrow or get married or have a family of your own (with him one day, he planned). You would never get the chance to have the life you wanted because of his mistake in not keeping a closer eye on you.

Or, maybe he should’ve chosen a different path, had been less rash, and watched you from afar, stealing you away from your pathetic boyfriend to keep you safe on mutual terms.

Tetta doesn't think you necessarily enjoy watching him torture and kill people, but he does know it interests you—arouses you. 

 Maybe it's about power. Maybe it's just morbid curiosity. Whatever the case, it never fails that when you get back to the base or his penthouse, you're touching all over him and soaking through the skimpy panties he bought you the previous week.

 He's not bothered by it. It just solidifies something that he's been coming to terms with for a while, and it's that you're a crazy fucking bitch. 

 And, he sort of loves it. Not that he'd ever admit it. 

 The girls that came before you were usually just bimbo bed-warmers, but you're something else entirely. A different breed of woman. 

 You like touching his guns just as much as you like touching his cock—sugar sweet with doe eyes that you use to get anything and everything you want whether it's jewelry or a Glock. 

 Top-of-the-line makeup, gemstone earrings, lingerie that have literal diamonds sewn into the fabric. Tetta says he buys it all to shut you up, but the truth is that he likes seeing you happy. He likes the way you prance around all done up, the way you bat your eyelashes and smile while murmuring, "Thank you, Tetta," like his name is a song. 

 All of that is only scratching the surface, though. You're almost bestial behind closed doors (and in public on occasion). Wild little thing, up to try everything at least once, you let Tetta fuck you however he wants, and that—having that kind of power over your body—is intoxicating. 

 He's drank the world's best scotch, snorted the cleanest cut cocaine, shot the purest heroin straight into his veins, but none of it compares to you. The way you can kiss him so tenderly only to turn around and bite his lip so hard it bleeds. The way you let him throw you around and come back begging for more. The way your pretty pussy blooms for him at the slightest touch.  

 He's fucking weak for it. Which is a problem of its own. 

 Tetta knows he's a heartless son of a bitch. That shouldn't be news to anyone, you least of all. So, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he's thought about killing you. He's had ample opportunities, when you're curled up in his arms, coming down from an orgasm. When he's got you pinned underneath him, helpless and wanton. Even when you're alone and singing in the shower, completely unaware of the way he's standing right outside the door with his gun cocked. 

 He can't bring himself to do it, though, and it makes Tetta sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he cares about you too much. He hasn't used the 'L' word for a very long time, not since her, but sometimes when he's strung out on bliss, and you've fallen asleep with your head on his chest, he considers whispering it. 

 And, that's when the urge to put a bullet in your head is the strongest. It races through his veins, makes him hot all over as he grows so angry with himself he can't even think straight. 

 How did he let this happen? How did allow himself to start feeling this way about another person? 

 It makes you a liability, and it makes him weak. Gives his enemies something to take from him. Tetta thinks he might burn the city down if anyone hurts you—other than him, of course. 

 He can live without his guards, without his echelon—doesn't trust half of them anyway. Can live without Hanma (would prefer to some days, honestly), but you… 

 You've become his Achilles heel, and he fucking hates you for it almost as much as he hates himself. 

 All these thoughts are currently absent from his brain, thank Christ, but it's only because they're being replaced by business talk and your mouth on his cock. 

 It's not a private affair. You're not hiding beneath his desk or anything modest like that. No, you're right between his legs where he sits on one of the plush couches, a few of his men across from him trying and failing to focus on the professional conversation, but once Tetta places a hand on the crown of your head to urge you further, four pairs of eyes immediately dart downward.

 "Hey, eyes up here, assholes," he snaps immediately, speaking loud enough to mostly cover the way you gag around him. "Don't look at what she's doing, look at me."

 "Sorry, boss, it's just that, you know—"

 "What I know is that I wanna get all this shit planned out for tomorrow, and I wanna get it planned out while getting my cock sucked. That a problem?" he asks with an arched eyebrow. 

 "No, no, course not," Hakkai shakes his head. "Sorry."

 "... acting like you've never gotten head before," Tetta murmurs, then transitions back, "Anyway."

 You are doing an exceptional fucking job, though. It's almost hard to keep a straight face as you lick up and down his shaft, pausing to suckle at his head before bobbing forward again, taking him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis. 

 Tetta has to take a deep breath to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head, pets your hair in unspoken praise, and when you swallow around him, his hips actually twitch. 

 This is the reason he brought you back to the penthouse in the first place. You'd seen him in Atsushi's club, recognized him, then flirted until Tetta was sufficiently flustered, hiding it with an easy arrogance. 

 He took you to a back room only he and a few others have access to, pushed you to your knees and fucked your throat, then lifted you back up and fucked you against the wall. 

 Immediately pussy drunk, he made a point to visit the club more often, searching for you until he found you, and after a few more desperate hook-ups, he caved and brought you to his apartment. That's when you became a little more honest with your interests and bedroom habits. 

 Tetta can still remember the way his back smarted for days from the claw marks you'd left him with. Remembers the way you'd begged him to choke you, the way you'd grinned when he did as if your every dream was being fulfilled. He remembers you tapping his hand to signal you needed to breathe, and he remembers not letting up. Your eyes had widened, a spark of fear in them, and then you came all over his cock. 

 There were finger-like marks around your neck for a while, a collar of bruises that was quickly replaced by high-end leather, a little heart dangling from a ring in the center with Tetta's initials carved into it. 

 He had it bad for you from the get-go. He had tried—is still trying—to explain it away as simple possessiveness, but that's simply not the case. 

 Yes, he wants to own you, and he wants everyone to know it, but there's a little voice in the back of his head that tells him that's not all there is to it. That he wants you to own him too.

 And, he thinks… he thinks you might be aware of it. 

 You'd recently gotten him a new watch (with his own god damn money). It's gold and shines in the light, the face of it outlined in tiny diamonds, and right on the clasp there's a small heart carved into the metal. 

 "Didn't wanna put my initials 'cause, you know, danger, but I thought a heart that matched this—" you tapped the charm on your collar and trailed off. 

 It was a smart move, and he told you as much, then smirked and questioned, "When have you ever cared about being in danger?" 

 You looked up at him through your lash extensions, lips settling into a pout.

 "I always care about it. Always think about it." You had paused, glancing down and playing with his hands then murmured, "I only want you to hurt me. You know that right?"

 It felt like there was a hand in Tetta's chest, squeezing and twisting, and he recalls a split second where he thought of grabbing the gun on the table next to him and blowing your brains out, but the urge was outweighed by the way you lifted your gaze to his again. 

 "I know, baby," he said, reaching forward to grip your chin, licking his lips when your eyes glazed over. "I won't let anyone else hurt you, okay?" 

 You nodded, and Tetta added, "And, if anyone does, I'll kill them," just for good measure. 

 It's not often you're that vulnerable with him, though you're looking a little pathetic right now, tears streaming down your face as you bob on his cock. You've been at it for a while now, but Tetta will be damned if he actually comes in front of his men. Just a few seconds of letting his guard down, of being lost in ecstasy, that's more than enough for a traitor to get the jump on him. 

 So, you'll remain on your knees until this meeting is over. 

 Whenever you start gagging too much, you pull back to lick up and down his cock, sucking pre from his tip, and rocking your hips into nothing when the taste hits your tongue. 

 You're getting desperate now, want something to fill that spoiled little princess cunt, and you'll get it. Just not right now. 

 Your own hand makes its way between your legs, and Tetta grunts in disapproval. He doesn't give a fuck if his guys see his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, but he does care about them getting the pleasure of watching you touch yourself. They don't deserve a show like that, aren't fucking worthy of it. 

 To distract you from your own need, Tetta pushes your head down, making you take him all at once until his tip hits the back of your throat. He sees the way your shoulders heave, body rolling, and you look up at him with blurry eyes in a panic. 

 He knows what just happened, has done it before, and he can feel the very slight burn of stomach acid on the sensitive skin of his cock. 

 You whine, trying to pull back probably so you can spit vomit onto the floor, but that's definitely not going to happen. Instead, Tetta keeps his hand firmly on the back of your head and commands, "Swallow," in a low voice. 

 More tears spill from your eyes as you shudder, but sure enough, your throat moves as you clean up your fucking mess. Tetta is simultaneously disgusted and aroused by the action, reminded of the unwavering power he has over you, all the sick shit you're willing to do for him. 

 He finally moves his hand, allowing you to pull off of him and cough. The bottom half of your face is a mess of tears and mucus and precum, and you let out a couple sobs before returning to his cock, arms shaking where they're braced on the floor. 

 Tetta should tell you to stop. Should give you a break. 

 But, how else is he supposed to clean his dick off right now? He's not just gonna get up and wipe himself down while his men wait for him. No, you're going to have to take care of it. Maybe then he'll let you go upstairs where you can shower and cry about him being, so mean, Tetta. You're so mean sometimes!

 He has to be, though. For his own good. 

 As if you can read his mind, you lap at his cock until you deem it okay to put back in his pants, then you're pushing yourself to your feet and skittering out of the room. Tetta watches you for a moment before turning back to the men across from him. 

 Smiley is the only one bold enough to say anything about it, and even then it's a simple, "Damn, boss."

 Tetta shrugs then gets back to business. 

 When he inevitably has to venture upstairs, Tetta does so with a glass of scotch in hand, gun tucked into the back of his pants as he prepares himself for whatever you've been stewing on as well as a few slaps to his chest. He can handle it, can incapacitate you in many ways, so he's not all that worried as he enters his large bedroom. 

 As expected, he finds you curled up under satin sheets, hair still wet from your shower, collar discarded on the nightstand, and you glare at him as soon as he steps into your line of sight. 

 "Oh, don't be like that, sweetness," Tetta tries, setting his gun next to the leather on the table and sitting down next to you. He isn't shocked when you scoot away from him just like you aren't shocked when he catches you by the arm and tugs you back close. You slide over the silken material easily, no friction to help you fight, but even if you could scramble off the mattress, you wouldn't. 

 There are other times you fight him, but that's more of a game than anything, one you know you can't win. 

 And, you know you can't win this time either, so even as you sniffle, you let Tetta pull you into his arms, cradling your head and back like the little crybaby you are. 

 "I don't like when you do stuff like that," you tell him, voice so quiet and honest it almost makes him feel bad. 

 "Thought you liked it rough," he tries to tease, but you aren't having any of it. 

 "Rough sex is one thing. Asphyxiating on my own fucking vomit is another," you snap, trying to sit up the rest of the way. 

 Tetta's grip is tight, one hand at your waist while the other curls into your hair, and he feels his temper spike. "Watch it. Don't be a fucking brat."

 "You made me swallow throw-up," you argue, struggling out of his hold and speaking to him in a tone he has not heard in a while. "In front of your men. It was gross. Made me feel like some kind of cheap whore." 

 Tetta is moving faster than you can track, pushing you onto the bed with a knee between your legs and fingers around your throat. 

 "What ever gave you the impression that you're not a cheap whore?" 

 Your eyes blaze in a way he's never seen before, filling with angry tears and fire. He watches as your jaw moves, cheeks going hollow for a moment, and he knows—fucking knows you're about to spit in his face, but before you can, he abandons your neck in favor of digging fingertips into flesh right in-between rows of teeth. 

 "Don't you fucking dare."

 You can't speak in this position, but oh, that glare sends a shiver down his spine. This expression, furious and volatile and wild reminds Tetta—

 Crazy. Fucking. Bitch. 

 "I'm going to let you go now," he tells you sternly, "And, if you try to spit at me again, I will fucking kill you right here, right now. Do you understand?”

 You can’t nod, but you don’t need to as you squirm beneath him. It takes Tetta a few seconds and a glance downward to realize you’re trying to grind against his thigh. You can be pissed all you want, doesn’t mean you don’t still want his cock.

 “You’re disgusting,” Tetta hisses, and he can feel the muscles in your face shift as you try to smile before letting go. 

 “And, you’re a dick,” you shoot back, stretching your jaw and frowning only for your lips to turn up at the corners. 

 Tetta stares at you for a moment, gears turning in his head because it is truly alarming how quickly your mood can shift–makes you unpredictable, makes you dangerous. 

 But, fuck if that isn’t one of the reasons he’s drawn to you. 

 “Yeah, but you knew that from day one,” he sighs, allowing you to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar, then pull him back down on top of you. 

 There’s no tenderness in your kiss. Your fingers quickly push Tetta’s hair out of its normally perfect style, nails scratching his scalp hard enough to make him hiss and bite your lip even harder. You squeal and wriggle, and both of you can taste blood as his incisors dig into flesh, but you’re still grinding down against his leg, wetness leaking from your pussy and through your useless thong. Sometimes he likes to degrade you for making a mess on his slacks, but today he has better ideas in mind.

 First thing’s first: Tetta pulls your lacy panties down and throws them over his shoulder, shoving two fingers into your already drenched pussy while unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock free from his pants. He’s hot and hard, the vein that travels the length of his shaft popping under his skin, and you move to touch him–of course you do–but Tetta bats your hand away carelessly, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt and humming appreciatively at the way you’re already wet enough to make that squelching sound he loves so much. 

 “What was that you were saying about not being a whore?” he asks through a satisfied smile, tapping the spot inside of you that already has squirt pooling in the palm of his hand. His thumb rubbing over your clit has you bucking and sucking on your bruised lip, but once Tetta plants a hand right between your hips, pressing you into the bed, there isn’t much you can do other than take what he gives you.

 And, you will. You always do.

 “‘m’not a whore,” you manage out. Tetta really must have struck a nerve with that one if you keep denying it like this. 

 “No? Then why’re you spreading your legs like one, hm?” 

 He pulls his hand back and situates himself into a better position, grabbing your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist as he sinks into you. Tetta groans while watching you arch toward him, mouth opening in a silent cry as he slides into your soft pussy until he can’t anymore.

 “Why do you take my cock so well if you–” he gives a couple of thrusts, grunting quietly in time with his hips, “–if you’re not filthy?”

 You tug him down for another rough kiss, probably don’t have a rebuttal for that one, but Tetta isn’t done, just keeps muttering against your lips.

 “Is it just ‘cause it feels good, baby? You like the way I fuck you?”

 You nod dumbly, legs falling from around him so that you can open yourself wider for him, and Tetta takes it as an invitation to fuck harder and faster until he sits back on his heels–still has his fucking dress shoes on–and pulls you up to meet his hips.

 At this angle he has a perfect view of your pussy and the way it just keeps sucking him in. Your cute little hole flutters and stretches, cream dripping from it and coating his cock, and your neglected clit is so puffy with arousal, sensitive enough to make you moan his name when he flicks it gently. 

 “Bet you’d let anyone slut you out like this,” his tone comes out mocking, making his own blood boil at the idea of another man touching you. "Take any cock offered just to feel full. That’s what it is, right? You’ve told me before–fill me up, Tetta,” he mimics your voice, “Want me to stretch this pussy out, leave you all fucked out and swollen for whoever’s next.”

 He’s pulling you onto his length mercilessly, eyes straying to your tits and how they bounce in the see-through top. You’re so fucking hot, so dirty and desperate and pathetic, and it’s Tetta who does this to you. It’s his cock you beg for, his cock you suck until you throw up, his cock your perfect cunt just keeps swallowing, fuck, fuck–

 He can talk down to you all he wants, make this all about you and your slutty pussy, but the truth is he’s just as bad, if not worse. Stoned off your scent, drunk off every orgasm he can pull from your writhing body. The way you pulse around his cock, squirting all over him, soaking the waistline of his slacks, all while panting his name over and over.

 Tetta lasts until he simply doesn’t want to anymore, until something else catches his eye, and then he’s fucking into you with enough force to make you dig your nails into his forearms. He knows you’re probably feeling raw, his cock stretching you uncomfortably now, so when he feels that burning in his gut, balls drawing up tight, he pulls out and uses two fingers to hold your folds open, exposing your loosened hole as he strokes himself to completion.

 Strings of white decorate your cunt like a god damn work of art, some dripping from your lips, some from the hole Tetta was aiming for. So pretty pushing it out, moaning at the sensation of his cum all over your sloppy pussy. Little fucking slut, you’re just a–

 Leaning forward, Tetta graces you with another kiss, this one filled with bliss and fatigue. You don’t even notice the way he reaches for his bedside table, fingers closing around the grip of his gun before he leans back again.

 It takes you a couple seconds to realize what he’s holding, all fuck drunk and stupid, but as soon as you recognize it, a breath of air leaves your lungs.

 “W–what’s that for?” you ask, eyes darting from the gun to Tetta’s face over and over again. You've seen him carry before, obviously, watched him shoot people right between the eyes, but typically when you're alone with Tetta and his weapon of choice, it's because he's teaching you to shoot or maybe showing off a new piece in an attempt to get you hot and bothered (which works like a charm every time). 

 This time is different, though, and you can feel it–the shift in the atmosphere, the prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You start to close your legs, probably want to move away from him or at least get into a less vulnerable position, but that would ruin everything, now wouldn’t it?

 Tetta doesn’t answer your question, just pushes your knees apart and counters with one of his own: “You’d do anything for me, right?”

 A grin slowly spreads across his face as you swallow thickly, eyes wider than before, and he knows your post-orgasm high is gone now. 

 “Yeah,” you nod, but he can still see the fear in your stare. 

 “Relax, baby,” he coos, voice going soft as he uses the barrel of his gun to trace the curve of your calf. “It’s not like I’m gonna shoot you or anything.” Yet.

 It’s playing in his mind, though, the way this could all end. Would he be relieved or regretful? Are you someone he’d murder then think about for years to come, or would he be able to forget about you?

 Strong hormone releases always leave Tetta feeling a little unsteady, a little unhinged. Anything could happen. It’s why more often than not tells you to get in the shower after you fuck. Leave him alone so he can get his thoughts back in order.

 But, tonight he doesn’t want you leaving him. He wants to keep you close, remind you just who it is you’ve involved yourself with, and he thinks a good way to cover both those bases is by watching you cry while he fucks you with his gun.

 Perfectly reasonable.

 “Promise I’ll be gentle,” he says, not sure if he’s telling the truth. The way you tremble makes him shiver, but that’s all you do. You don’t try to argue or fight, just gasp when you feel cold metal against your folds. 

 “S–safety’s on?” you ask, and fuck, you’re really going to let him do this without complaint. It brings up the question of pleasure versus curiosity. Just what is it that makes you think something this twisted is okay?

 Tetta checks and finds that the safety definitely is not on, but considering he’s undecided on whether or not he wants to rid himself of you, he simply lies, “Of course it’s on.”

 “Okay, just… Gentle.”

 “I promised I would be,” he reminds you, parting your folds then teasing your entrance with the barrel before carefully pushing forward.

 You let out a little noise of discomfort, squeezing your eyes shut while spreading your legs wider as if that’ll help any. Tetta gives a few very shallow thrusts, eyeing the glossy sheen you’ve already left, and he wonders if this will ruin his gun. He has others, but… could be another reason to kill you.

 It’s the perfect time, honestly. And, doing it in such a depraved way would just be the cherry on top. He can easily imagine pulling the trigger, watching a bullet tear through some other part of your body–it all depends on the angle, really–and if the first shot doesn’t kill you, he can just keep trying. 

 What would his men think? Obviously, Tetta wouldn’t be the one to clean this up. That’s below him. Hanma would probably laugh, sick fuck that he is. Hakkai might get woozy. Takemichi would more than likely tear up at the sight. 

 But why, Kisaki? they’d ask. We thought you liked her.

 He does. That’s the entire fucking problem.

 Tetta pushes into you a little further, transfixed by the way you open up for cold metal the same way you open up for cock, and even though he just came, his dick twitches at the sight. 

 You sit up on your elbows, looking down at yourself and gasping like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Honestly, Tetta can’t fully grasp it either. He’s got his loaded gun stuffed snug in your sopping cunt. All it would take is for him to pull back on the trigger. 

 “Can you… Can you take a video of it?” 

 Tetta nearly gets whiplash from the way his head shoots up, eyes wide in surprise even though he shouldn’t be shocked. You’ve more or less gotten off to the image of him killing people. Why wouldn’t you be into gunplay? Especially when you’re not smart enough to make sure you're actually safe because you’re not. You are so far from safe, in fact, it’s making Tetta’s hand shake. 

 All he does is slip his phone from his pocket, unlocking it then tapping on the camera icon. He makes sure to get a good shot of your face first, your big blinks and dumbstruck expression, lingering on the way you lick your lips before you fall back onto the mattress and sigh.

 From there, Tetta moves his phone down your body, eventually stopping where he needs to and focusing the lens on your pussy. You take more and more of the sleek barrel with every thrust, abused cunt opening up for the new intrusion as if it belongs there.

 Maybe it does. Maybe this is the culmination of everything. It’s fitting, he thinks, might even be the way a freak like you wants to go out. Maybe he’d actually be doing you a favor. If he ends up casting you away like all the other women, you could end up in worse hands than his. Tetta has been described as heartless many times, but he’s never hurt you out of cruelty, and he’s always, always cared about your pleasure (and your pain). The same can't be said for others in the same line of business. 

 “That feel good, baby?” Tetta speaks for the first time in minutes. “Like getting fucked by my gun?”

 You only nod, jaw having dropped open some time ago. 

 “Does it fill this pussy up the way you like?”

 “Mm, it’s different,” you admit in a breathy voice. “Not comfortable exactly, but–oh–sexy.”

 You’ve toed a dangerous line ever since Tetta met you, pressing your luck by pressing his buttons, and maybe he’s finally had enough.

 He’s just… never had someone idolize him the way you do, someone who trusts him like this, willing to put themselves at his mercy.

 “You know how easy it’d be to kill you right now?” he tests, watching to see if your expression turns fearful again.

 But, all you do is answer, “I know,” then lift your hips to take the gun deeper. 

 Tetta ends the video there, too worked up to hold the phone straight anymore. His finger is on the trigger ready to pull, just a quick motion and it’ll all be over, no more wrestling with his feelings, no more making himself sick over the idea of someone hurting you. He could end it all right here, right now. 

 Instead, when he opens his mouth, he asks you, “Think you can come like this?” and as if to encourage you, he toys with your clit. 

 “I–I think so. If you keep going slow and playing with–fuck, yes–”

 You don’t have to finish the thought. Tetta pauses to wet two fingers then uses them both to rub your clit, sometimes sliding down to gently massage the tender flesh stretched around his gun. You’re still dripping with his cum, but new slick is also leaking from you, and he almost laughs because it’s so fucking absurd to be so turned on by this, but here you are, legs shaking, hips rocking, pleas falling from your quivering lips as Tetta flicks your clit and pumps the weapon in and out of your cunt, gradually picking up speed as you begin to coil in on yourself, hitting that euphoric peak and then falling off of it.

 You moan a chorus–oh, god, oh, god, oh, god–while Tetta fucks you through it, his own thought process similarly stunted and rhythmic.

 Pull the trigger, pull the trigger, pull it.

 His jaw slides, teeth bared as he stares down at your splayed body, and this is it. This is perfect. This is the time–

 He can’t. 

 Tetta cannot bring himself to do it, and for that, he’s disappointed in himself. 

 Sinking further onto his knees and into the bedding, Tetta sighs and pulls the gun from you, reaching up to push hair back from where it’s fallen into his face. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he just–

 Footsteps approach the bedroom, gait unfamiliar, and Tetta doesn’t think twice before aiming and shooting as soon as he can see a vague outline of them.

 “Fuck–shit–you fucking shot me!” 

 Just Hanma. Probably drunk judging by his clumsy steps. Unfortunate, but– “Should’ve told me you were coming,” Tetta shrugs.

 “I texted you! Jesus Christ, ahh–”

 He stumbles into the room, dropping to the ground and clutching his arm to his chest.

 “You’re bleeding on my carpet,” Tetta tsks, finally moving from the bed and gesturing for you to close your legs.

 When he glances at your face, though, he sees one of those deer-in-the-headlights expressions, nothing but shock and fear and cluelessness.

 “What?” Tetta asks you.

 You gape at him for a second, looking at the gun still in his hand, then at Hanma still swearing, and then where he’d just been sitting.

 “Was that locked and fucking loaded this whole god damn time?”

 Tetta sucks his teeth and wipes the wet barrel on his pants while nodding. “Yeah, it was. I should probably teach you more about gun safety.”

 Your voice is shrill and a little irritating when you shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” rolling so that you’re sitting up on your knees now.

 Smirking, Tetta chuckles and steps over to you. You’re a mess, hair sticking up in the back, bra pulled down enough to show off pretty, pebbled nipples, thighs covered in your own arousal. 

 After setting his gun down, Tetta takes your face in both hands, stroking over your cheeks with calloused thumbs as he answers, “So much, baby. So, so much.”

 Hanma is still groaning in pain where he sits on the ground, but it’s easy enough to tune out as Tetta bends just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. You search his face for some kind of clue as to what the fuck is going on, but you won’t find anything there except for wide, adoring eyes and a half-deranged smile.