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physicalturian · 2 years

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[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 24

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga][She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

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1 chapter left my lovelies!

Words : 10 585

Warnings : Dubious content / Explicit content / Sexual Content / Gaslighting / Roughness / Manhandling / Graphic Depiction of Violence and Murder / Emotional Distress

- - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 -Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23

Rai opened her mouth to speak, but I was the first one to do so as I placed my hand on Hanma’s chest and slightly pushed him behind me “Rai, how did you find this place?” Hanma laughed in the back.

A laugh escaped her lips. She was not having fun, not one bit. Her eyes were filled with tears threatening to fall, “I followed you here a few days ago—I saw how you killed your own doorman!” She pointed at Hanma while walking up to us. I stopped her from approaching any further by placing a hand on her chest, one that she slapped away angrily. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She articulated each word clearly, determined.

“Leave, Rai. Leave now.” I started.

“You killed Kei,” She pointed at me this time, “You—you cut—he…'' She took a sharp breath, trying to calm herself down, but she wasn’t making sense. Seeing how she was all over the place, I stepped forward. I felt Hanma’s hand reach for my thigh and ignored it until I felt the weight of the gun leaving my leg. For a second, I froze but then reached for Rai to try to appease her. I couldn’t let her lose her calm like this. I should lie, I should cover for Hanma. Or I could at least cover for myself, “I didn’t do anything, take a deep breath.” I said in a lower tone, hoping that would hint for her to stop yelling.

It did not.

“I don’t care who did it! You or—or the mafia.” She started, only for Hanma to huff but he did not comment. She looked at him with pure hatred as she pushed past me, her hand finally leaving her bag as she pulled out a small revolver, “What’s funny?” Her voice seeping with ire She then raised her tone, “It’s not funny, nothing’s funny here!” her anger increased as her voice did, “You murdered a man!”

Hanma walked past me and helped her press the gun to his chest, slowly moving it to his heart. It felt like a déjà vu, “Make everything right then, kill me.” He dared her, his tone convinced she wouldn’t do it. Her hands, which were both gripping the weapon, were shaking as she glanced at me then back at Hanma who pressed the gun even harder into his chest, “Do it, shoot me. I killed a man, right? Be the hero you’ve been so desperately trying to become.” His hand moved to keep her hold on the gun, his smile widening. Rai’s sobs hadn’t stopped, her sniffling hadn’t either.

“It’s only… it’s… the police will know I’m missing!” She managed to utter through her hectic breathing. She looked miserable, like a deer caught in headlights or perhaps more like a rat trying to escape the trap it just stepped in. Those desperate sounds escaping it, squeaks almost. Even if you tried to help, it wouldn’t do much good. The best way out would be a merciful kill.

Hanma laughed, “How cute, did you hear that babe?” He looked at me and snatched the gun from her hands while talking before shoving it in his pocket, “She trusts the cops.” He barked another laugh. Rai was defenseless, her gun now out of her reach. And yet, she did not back down, she tried to get it back from Hanma but he was fast to force her to her knees, “We’re talking here, rat.” He gritted through his teeth, pulling a gun from the front of his pants—my gun—and pressed it to her forehead, his index finger to his lips for her to stay silent.

When she let out another sob, he nudged her knees and spat, “Stop sobbing, it’s disgusting.”

“Shu—I think that’s enough.” I tried to stop him but he turned and looked at me with wide, threatening eyes, “You’re tryna act proper now? Acting proper’s not gonna hide the crimes you’ve committed, doll.” He reached for me and pulled me to his side, his grip stronger than usual as he helped me in front of him and placed the gun in my hand. I avoided looking at Rai’s gaze and held my breath but did not move the gun. “So be good, get rid of the hindrance, yeah?” He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.

When he let go of my arm, I moved the gun away from Rai and looked at Hanma with pleading eyes, “We could—we could assess what she knows, see if she’s really a threat.”

Hanma suddenly gripped the back of Rai’s head, her hair tightly held in his fist. She let out a whimper. “She knew too much the moment she saw what happened in that alley.” He yanked her back roughly, she sobbed harder and he knelt beside her, smiling wickedly, “But going to the cops for help was her biggest mistake.”

“You said they were all corrupted, so you can–”

“And yet!” He exclaimed, interrupting me, wiping Rai’s tears from her face and making her flinch, “She managed to find the few ones that do not listen—now you’re gonna tell me: we can just kill them.” He let go of Rai and stood up, “And you’re right, two down.” He let out a grunt when Rai grabbed his ankle to stop him; he simply kicked her hand off and continued a strict tone, “One soon to come,” He met her gaze. I did not know what to do about any of this. “And many more to go, it’s always fun to get rid of pigs.” He commented lightly.

Rai tried to get up but I pushed her back down, shaking my head—because I knew he would do the same, but I would be more gentle… I think that’s why I did it, at least.

She looked at me with eyes that conveyed how betrayed she felt, “You can still leave, there are more good people than you know.” She was cut off by Hanma punching her, “Lies.”

Blood was all that came out of her mouth as she spat, her nose slightly crooked. While she was still crying, she met my eyes once more and through sobs said, “Please, let me go—come with me, they can get you to safety.”

Hanma laughed, “You really think law enforcement can protect anyone from the biggest crime organization in Japan? Come on, little rat, they can barely protect their own people from petty criminals.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ceiling, “You’re a rare sight of naivety, it’s refreshing.” He added before meeting her gaze once more, “But it gets boring to be this fucking stupid.” Just like that his hand was back on mine.

He helped me aim the gun at her once again and stood close behind me.

I felt the weight of his grip leaving my hand when it was balanced with being pressed against her forehead.

I wasn’t even shaking.

But I was crying silently. I didn’t know why. I had done this so many times, so what was different now?

“Alright, now you pull the trigger. The usual, yeah?”

“You can’t keep doing this because you’ve made me go through so much already!” I uttered under my breath, finding it hard to let the words out.

Hanma chuckled and tilted my head so it pressed against his cheek, “Nothing was ever against your will, now was it?” His hand returned to my wrist to hold the gun in place.

I felt my blood boil and inside my head, I was split between doing as he said or forcing my hand out of his grip. Could I even kill her? Did I have the strength? I had killed so many people, what was stopping me from doing it now?

She’s your friend, a voice said in my head.

“I’ve done so fucking much and you’re asking for more, you take and you take, and—” I moved the gun from Rai’s crying face and let my arm fall to my side, “And like an idiot I give and give but lose so much in return, my friends, my job, my soul—my fucking sanity!”

Hanma looked at me with a playful smile, “You didn’t lose your job, doll. You got promoted to something more… thrilling.” He finally said, meaning the position I held in Bonten. “You’re not in a place to complain.” This part was said with more annoyance.

I turned fully to face him and poked my finger against his chest then gritted through my teeth, frustration building up, “I know what you’re doing, you’re playing me!” I then turned around and pressed the gun against Rai’s forehead again, this time catching her off guard as her eyes met mine in betrayal, “I can’t say no, you know I can’t…” My voice broke as I took a few shaky breaths and tried to calm myself down. I felt Hanma press his chest against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist, “The more you ask of me, the more I fall into that stupid darkness you’ve created that seems to welcome me with open arms,” I whispered slowly, losing any strength to fight, “Your arms…” I sniffled and pressed the gun even more against Rai’s skin, making her tilt her head back and wince through the constant crying, “And the more I’m fighting it, the more it chips away at me because I’m struggling in the dark, hurting myself.” I said rapidly, trying to find one coherent thought.

He raised a brow, silently asking if I was done. But while I did not say anything for a few moments, I was deep in thought.

Among all those feelings, all this mess that my thoughts were, I found one option that seemed to be the only alternative I had.

So I breathed out, ”The only thing that could light up the way would be if I stopped caring.” Because that’s what he wanted, he wanted me to be like him from the very beginning.

I chuckled and smiled, my finger moving on the trigger as I fixed my grip on the gun.

“So maybe that’s what I’ll do.” I giggled, slowly wiping the tears from my cheeks.

Gears were turning inside my head.

“I won’t care anymore.” It made sense, right? That was the solution. After all this time, that was what I had to do; it was this easy and I never even tried doing it. I think I heard Rai say something, but I couldn’t understand her much over my fast beating heart. She was probably pleading for her life and maybe it was for the best that I tuned it out.

I scoffed dryly, “I’ll stop feeling, because there’s no stopping this.”

There’s no stopping them.

“I can’t escape it, right?”

I can’t escape you.

“I just can’t…”

I can’t leave you, so I need to survive this world you dragged me into.

Bringing my attention fully to Rai, I finally met her gaze and sadly smiled, “Curiosity killed the cat, Junior. I’m…” sorry? No, I don’t feel anything, she—”I warned you, you asked for this.” When she started shaking her head, I rapidly gripped her jaw and forced her to stop moving before aligning her with the gun once more.

“Call it… reckoning.”

Bang.

It was so loud and yet so muffled.

Her brains splattered on the wall and the floor as her body fell back with a thud.

My stomach felt sick but I did not have the strength to do anything. I could only stare at her body. At the corpse now laying on the beautiful white stones of the hall. I had done her a favor, it was this or them killing her, this was mercy.

I could only think of the relief it brought me.

Relief? From knowing I did not have to worry about her anymore… perhaps…

The two arms that were wrapped around my waist turned me around—Hanma’s hands cradled my face with force as he smiled manically, “I made you, look at you!” His thumbs brushed over my cheeks as he kissed me hungrily, “Look at that smile on your face.” Was I smiling? Was it alright to smile? Of course it was, I couldn’t care anymore. I was not allowed to, or it’d hold me back. “Don’t cry like that,” He started a bit harshly, “Enjoy the freedom!” He cooed softly before hugging me shortly as I shakily wrapped my arms around him. I heard him hum against my head, “Let’s not hide that side of you anymore, huh? Show them what you got, babe.”

He gently pressed my head to his chest and rested his cheek against my head—I then started hearing him hum a rather dark tune that I was not familiar with. As he did so, he held my hand in his and extended his arm to the side before taking a step back and bringing me with him, his other arm still around my waist, “For a second I thought you wouldn’t do it.” He chuckled in some sort of frenzy as he darted to the side, avoiding the pool of blood that had started growing on the floor. He then took another step to the side before pushing me away from him and lifting our intertwined hands. He twirled me around before bringing me back to him, “But I taught you better, right?” He whispered, smiling broadly. With another step behind, he turned us around, his back to Rai’s dead body. I glanced at it a second, only for Hanma to cradle my face in his large hands, “Like this, you’re never leaving—now, don’t look so glum, it’s not fun.”

Those words shook me. I felt something for the first time in those past minutes when all I had felt was utter numbness: fear. Fear of disappointing him, fear I wouldn’t meet his expectations.

Yet, some kind words escaped his lips, “You did well.” He pressed a soft kiss on my mouth, trying to deepen it. I did not return it, but I spoke against his lips, “I did her a favor, right? If I didn’t do it, it would have been worse…”

Hanma laughed and kissed me once again with hunger, his hand moving to my neck then helping one sleeve off my shoulder as he kissed my exposed skin, “I’d have beaten her up if that’s what you’re asking.” He replied, finally moving away from me as he smiled happily and brushed my hair back, looking at me in pure awe. “Go upstairs and get cleaned up, you got blood all over yourself.” He said, suddenly strangely calm as he glanced at Rai’s inert form. It was not that he was sad about it, of course not… It was just that all this adrenaline he seemed to have a moment ago had gone out the window when he remembered he had to take care of this.

“I will help.” I managed to utter as I took off my shoes without looking at anything but his shoulder, lost in thoughts. He stared at me in silence and took the shoes from my hands before throwing them in the elevator, “Now look at your damn feet.”

I did and noticed I had stepped in the pool of blood that had spread to us. It was a lot darker than I thought it would be. And a lot thicker too, it was strange. It didn't feel weird on my feet, it felt like a puddle of rain water after a warm thunderstorm. I tapped my feet once, twice—Hanma forced me to look up, “Get in the elevator, and go get cleaned up.”

His eyes did not hold much worry, they never really did, but for a split second there seemed to be something close to it in his eyes. It was short lived. I brought his slender hand that was holding my jaw to my lips and kissed it, “Is it enough?” I asked. Perhaps it did not make sense, but this part deep inside me that wanted to prove myself to him was not leaving. And I kept wondering if I had done enough, if there was something more that I could do for him to have me.

“Unless you wanna put another bullet in her head, yeah, it’s enough.” He scoffed humorously before letting me go, ushering me to the elevator once more. This time I did not fight it and watched him as the doors closed, my eyes drifting to Rai’s still open ones that seemed to look at me pleadingly. Silently screaming for me to help her, but it was too late. For both of us. There was no turning back from this.

And it was fine.

I’d asked for this.

Now I didn’t have to constantly be on the lookout for her anymore. Maybe I should still be wary of the cops that were on her side, but until then, I could breathe.

It was not so bad because I was still alive, and I was not in jail.

I grabbed my shoes from the floor and realized I was holding keys in my hands. Understanding Hanma had placed them there at some point, I then walked to his door, testing the few keys on the chain to find the right one before entering the place. Everything was so silent, so why were my ears ringing? Why, even alone, did I feel this pressure, this overwhelming feeling?

Stop thinking like that, stop letting it get to your head, I quickly scolded myself.

“Smile, laugh, you did the right thing.” I whispered to myself under my breath, bringing my hands to my cheeks as I massaged them and tried to force myself to smile. It was only then that I felt how wet my cheeks were, a choked sob escaping my lips.

Don’t be weak, get a hold of yourself, I told myself while walking to the bathroom, slowly getting rid of all that I was wearing. No one could see anything in the apartment from how high up we were, I could be free to roam around however I felt like doing—the dress fell on the floor and I entered the dark bathroom. I was too dazed to turn on the lights and simply walked to the shower, with only the glow of the moon as my light.

It was eerie… so quiet… but nothing had changed, not really.

People still lived on, there was no drastic change in the way the world turned now that she was gone. I wondered if people mourned her death—not that they knew yet. And if they did, how many would be crying about her disappearance? Two? Ten? A hundred? Did it really matter? They would come to her funeral, say sweet words about her—those would be true, I think… I knew she was kind, always ready to help. Will I have to write a eulogy for her? I worked with her for so long, what could I even say? I would have to do my best to look sad. I didn’t feel sad, not anymore. It was selfish, because I didn’t care about her death in a way that I should be. I cared that I had done such an atrocious act, I cared that I was changed as a person, because knowing in my core that I could do such a thing made me wonder how far I could go next. Was there a limit? It frightened me… the unknown.

“Are you tryna drown or something?” I heard Hanma huff as he entered the bathroom and quickly got undressed. I stopped the water and was about to step out of the shower when he joined me and pushed me against the wall, moving one of my legs to his hip as he pressed himself against me. I immediately turned the water back on, making him hiss as he let go of me, chuckling, “Back in that stupid mood like last time?” He clicked his tongue and lowered the temperature before grabbing some shampoo as he quickly washed his hair. He made it clear that I was not allowed to leave. I waited in silence until he was done washing up and had stopped the water.

When he was ready, he shook his head, droplets flying onto my now cold body, “Don’t you feel lighter?” He asked, throwing me a towel that I almost did not catch from how sudden it was. I followed him out but did not reply. I had no energy left, no strength to speak, I had lost my voice. There was this feeling inside me that had me convinced that if I tried to speak, I would crumble. Instead of replying, I dried myself and walked past him, reaching the bedroom with only Hanma’s heavy footsteps behind me as the melody of the night.

I knelt by the bed to grab clean clothes from the pile I had put next to it, with all my products on the nightstand. Hanma had other plans—he took a hold of my arm and pulled me to my feet before pushing me back to the bed and straddling me in seconds. I tried to force my arms out of his grip but he held me down, tight, “Why the fuck are you silent?”

Even if I opened my mouth to speak, I couldn’t utter anything.

“Look at me.” He held both my hands over my head, the pillows softening the action but it did not easen his hold. I couldn’t really see him, I was too lost daydreaming. I could hear him, feel him, but reacting required too much energy, too much thinking that I did not have. “Been begging days after days for my dick, and now that you can have it, you’re silent?” He scoffed.

What did that mean? Was this what he’d call the turning point? Killing my friends? Was that all he needed to fuck me? I didn’t move when he pressed more on my wrists and hovered over me, “Where’s the teasing attitude you got just for me? Huh?” He laughed dryly before kissing me—I stared straight ahead, meeting his annoyed eyes as he kissed me harder.

He stopped and leaned back, letting go of my hands. I kept them right where they were, not having any strength to move. Hanma mumbled something under his breath then lifted my legs to his shoulders, leaning over before grazing his teeth against my skin. I wasn’t really watching him, I could feel him and notice him from staring at the ceiling, but I wasn’t looking at him. “Maybe I should just make you scream like last time? ‘S that what you want?” What is wrong with me that I can’t get back to him? I want to have fun, to fuck him, but something stops me. I can’t do shit. Why?

His teeth sank into my thigh, I think I screamed at the pain. I didn’t hear myself, but Hanma looked up and smiled broadly, “Your voice’s still there, but you can get louder, yeah?” Without much warning, he attacked my other thigh, biting it a lot harder, to the point of bleeding I was sure. This time I heard the scream that tore my throat, I jolted on the bed before falling down, this time tears were running down my face. “What are you fucking crying for now?” He sighed, my legs still on his shoulders as he crawled up to me and looked at me in frustration, “Give me some fucking fight, woman.” His hand flew to my throat, “What, kitty lost her claws?” He asked rhetorically. I stayed silent.

He roughly let go and laughed, “If I wanted to fuck a corpse I could have gotten one downstairs.” For a split second I met his gaze, for a split second I was aware of the world and just like that I was gone again, sobbing. She was dead. I had killed her. I had killed someone I knew, there was no coming back from this. But I had made him proud, right? Was it even worth it if I was making him mad right now? “Yeah no, stop that shit.” I heard him growl—even a strong slap on my face did not bring me back to him. He then grabbed my jaw and with his thumb forced my mouth open, “Cat didn’t get your tongue, hm...” He hummed.

His weight shifted from between my legs to higher on my form as he knelt close enough for his dick to be level with my face, “If y’ain’t gonna use that pretty tongue, I will then. I’ll give ya something to cry about.” Was what he said right as he shoved himself down my throat. It hurts but I can’t think about that—all I see is her dead body, over and over again. Her eyes, blank, my hand slightly numb from the strength of my grip on the gun. She was innocent; was she? No, she asked for this! I did nothing wrong, it was her or me—she was unarmed. I had a gun, Hanma had hers, she was harmless.

She wasn’t harmless, she had the cops on her side.

If she had gone to them, talked them through and had them turn against Bonten, then we would have been fucked. I didn’t do it for me, I did it for Bonten.

But now that she was dead, I couldn’t care less anymore. It was almost like I was free from the shackles that she represented.

“Seems like your old life’s what’s holding you back. Let’s get rid of it and set you free, little rat.” Hanma had told me once. I would have never believed I’d be the one to set myself free, at the time I even found him crazy for daring to suggest such a thing because then I was more than happy with my life. Not anymore.

Hanma pulled out of my fucked out throat, leaving me with my tongue out before I slowly pulled back in, thinking, never meeting his gaze no matter how much I wanted to. I needed the comfort he brought me—then why aren’t his arms comforting me right now? Had I not flipped the switch? Shouldn’t I feel reassured to have him by my side now that I had done the unthinkable? Hanma’s frustration was building up, he looked down at me once more, sitting back between my legs before kissing me violently, desperately, “Quit fucking crying.” It almost sounded like worry laced his words, it broke my heart. It made me feel even more guilty for going numb but I couldn’t help it. More tears streamed down my face.

It seemed to trigger him even more as he forced me to turn over, lifting my hips as he placed himself behind me, “Fuck, your ugly crying is getting my dick soft, stay like this.” My head was buried in the pillows, enough to muffle my sobbing and dry the tears but not enough to drown my thoughts. I think I swore under my breath when Hanma entered me. I should have felt excited, elated even but as he finally gave me what I wanted, my mind was numb.

Overwhelmed in emotions I did not want.

Confused by them too—I had killed willingly, so why did I feel like I was the victim? I was not the one dead. I was not the one who had fought for justice. I was weak, I had given in to it all. Had I ever even fought? I’d had so many chances to leave, but I never took them.

Hanma gripped a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, tilting my neck at a wrong angle, hurting me and forcing me to balance on my knees fully. I let out a howl of pain, making him laugh breathlessly. I then caught a glimpse of his smile in the mirror above the headboard and everything flashed in my mind.

“Are you a hero?” he had asked me that very first night. “Do you believe there is good in this world? Would you die for this pathetic excuse of a world?” He had added. And at that time, perhaps I meant some of what I had said. But now that I thought about it, my answer had changed slightly. I was no hero. I didn’t like the world as it was, and I did not want to know if it was because of the bad people, like Bonten, that made it so that I hated it or if it was simply the way things were.

Was I like them? I was not as horrible, right? I hadn’t committed nearly as many atrocities as they had—every time I had killed someone it was out of pure mercy, nothing more. It was a chore, it was not fun—it was a favor. Because I knew Bonten would do worse to them if I didn’t kill them.

At least for some.

Others deserved ending up in a grave that did not even have their names.

Did that make me a bad person?

“You’re also a bad person then, you’re like us, right? Some people do deserve to die!” He was right. Some did deserve it.

I was a bad person. I couldn’t change it. No good deeds could ever fix what I had done—no good deeds could ever make me change who I had become. It was not going to make the memories disappear, nor would it help with the haunting flashbacks I kept having. But he could help—he was a safe haven.

“Since you’re not a hero, we’ll make you a villain then.”

I didn’t want to change either. If I even leaned towards returning to the person I was before, I would lose him. I would be boring—bored too. That was my number one fear. A fear I would not have if I remained the villain he turned me into. I had become exactly what he wanted me to become and it was alright, because he liked it; like that, he would keep me by his side. If that was what he wanted, I was more than happy with it, right? Yes, I was. He had molded me perfectly for him—with his words, with his hands and with his presence, I was made for him. Quite literally.

But this was not a love story, it was a fucked up story, an unhealthy type of love, the addictive kind. The kind that made me look at him with pure adoration as blood would adorn his face. The kind that made me commit the most barbaric acts only for his sick entertainment. The kind that made me see him for who he was—a drug I could not get enough of, one I clung to, one that I knew would help me get through everything.

If he was by my side, it’d be alright.

He is by my side, I’m going to be alright.

I looked at his messy hair in the mirror and let out a giggle. Slowly, I brought my hand to his head and turned mine, kissing his hair with a wide smile, “Is this what you’ve been promising? Your dick game isn’t as good as I–” I heard him let out a barked laugh as his thrusts turned into something close to rutting. One arm held my waist, the other wrapped around my throat as he kept me close, “Plug your brain back in? Let me fuck it outta you, that’ll stop you from being a fucking bitch.” He chuckled against my skin as he left bites all over my collarbone.

More than aroused, I needed him. I wanted to feel him on my own terms, I didn’t want him to have all the fun so I gripped his arm and forced it away from me. “You’re not cutting it, get on your back and I’ll do the work myself.” I smirked, his movements stopping as he gently held my chin and tilted my head towards him. Leaning in, he grinned down at me and pressed a rough kiss to my lips, “‘Think I should fuck your throat again so you shut the fuck up.” He groaned, pulling out before moving in front of me and laying down, his arms behind his head as he looked at me with a widening smile.

I don’t know why I felt flustered seeing him like that. His head had been between my legs, I had his dick in my mouth seconds ago, so why was I feeling shy now that he looked at me with such expectant eyes? Placing my hands on his stomach, I lifted myself up to straddle his lap before slowly sinking on his cock, my head tilted forward as I let out a breathy laugh, my nails digging in his skin.

Probably thinking I was taking too long, Hanma forced me fully on him with both his hands on my waist, “Playing the prudish act like you haven’t been begging for my dick for weeks now? Cute.” He smiled dryly, thrusting hard inside me and making me hiss at the suddenness before pushing his hips back down. I smirked at him and rolled my hips a few times before leaning over him and kissing his chest as I looked up, “And all I had to do to get it was kill my friend.” I let out a giggle, not knowing why I was laughing but I couldn’t cry anymore, even as flashes of her motionless body plagued my mind. I tried to bury it by thinking of him.

Of him looking at me with that bright, maniac smile, blood adorning his features.

Of him looking down at me with a deadpan expression, a gun to my head.

Of him kneeling in front of me, handing me a gun and telling me to shoot him, almost certain I wouldn’t do it. Even now I wouldn’t.

Of him asking me that dreadful question, “I can see you wanna live, what are you willing to do to stay alive?”

And fuck, at that time I didn’t know what to answer. I didn’t know how far I would go, what I would do. Now I knew I would do the craziest things for him.

It wasn’t the stealing. It wasn’t the threatening, no… it wasn’t the killing either—it was worse.

The craziest thing I did for survival was loving him.

To survive, I loved him.

To survive, I grew attached to the man that hurt me—I let him shape me exactly how he wanted.

“But fuck it feels great, doesn’t it?” I asked out loud, breathless, looking at him with an elated smile as I started rolling my hips more fervently, my hands sliding to his neck as I hovered over him. “Right? This feels fucking great, it’s freeing!” I exclaimed, tightening my hold on his neck as I gently rubbed his Adam's apple with my thumbs, enjoying feeling his laugh in my palms. Moans started pouring from my mouth as I leaned back while gliding my hands down his body as I helped myself up and down, guttural sounds echoing in the room. “Who cares if I kill the people I love, right?” I laughed out loud, uncaring of the tears running down my cheeks as I tilted my head back and let out a broken laugh once more. “They’re not the ones there for me, you are!” I said in amazement, finally looking back at him.

His eyes were wide as he slowly sat up, his hands holding me in place while he smiled down at me proudly, “Damn, you’re crazy, woman!” He chuckled, reaching for something on the nightstand as he held me still, his cock fully sheathed inside me. I spread my legs even more to feel him deep inside me and had my mouth wide open, smiling, as I breathed in and out loudly. The tears never stopped even through the smiles.

His hand pressed on my lower back, arching it slightly more and eliciting a loud gasp from my person as he looked down at me with a growing smile, “Got ya hooked already?” He asked, tilting me back slightly with his fingers threaded through the hair at the base of my neck. I felt something against my skin and glanced down at my chest, lipstick in his hand as he wrote down his name on my exposed skin. “My pretty little toy,” He mocked, taking one of my nipples in his mouth as he sucked on it with a big smile, “My beautiful doll.” He cooed, letting go as he tugged my head back making me howl in pain and pleasure. His mouth was then on my neck as he sunk his teeth delicately, whispering, “See, I thought you’d break, not shatter.” One slow thrust followed—I tried to hold back a moan, he fully bit the junction of my neck and shoulders, telling me to be fucking loud or he’d stop. I followed his order, screaming; my hands flew to his head as I pushed him further in.

He then turned us around, shoving me back in the mattress and helped my legs to his shoulders, “But don’t worry,” He said sweetly as he slowly, rhythmically started thrusting inside me once again, his hands digging in my thighs, “A lost herd needs a shepherd, didn’t I tell ya that already?” I vaguely remembered, but with him now ramming inside me, I couldn’t think. I still nodded, letting go of his hair to hold onto his shoulders for dear life. He hummed inquisitively once more as he kissed me roughly, relentlessly fucking me, out of breath. He grabbed my hands and moved them from him, pinning them above my head, only he intertwined his fingers with mine, “Take my hand—after all, I promised to guide you, didn’t I?” His nails dug in the back of my hand with force and I nodded once more.

I couldn’t voice how much relief I felt from those simple words but I arched my back to feel him more, trying to show him I was more than fine. Ghosting his lips over mine, he asked, “Don’t tell me you lost your voice again.” But I was not staying silent out of fear, or because my brain wasn’t working, I was just too drunk on this emotional and physical high.

His words still echoed in my mind.

His beautiful doll.

Why did it ring so nice? He had called me ‘doll’ so many times I lost count, but this time it felt different.

“What is it?” He gritted through his teeth as he pulled my hair again, letting go of my hands. He met my eyes and slowly smiled, “Oh shit—you’re…” I felt him rest his forehead against my shoulder as he paused his movements and started laughing, just a little at first before laughing out loud, his head tilted back. “I got you already fucked out?” He asked rhetorically. I met his gaze, my heart soaring at how beautiful he looked. He then grabbed my jaw forcefully and made me sit up to look at him, my hands behind my back for support. “I’m not nearly close to being done with ya, though. You cried so much, but it wasn’t because of me, so I’m gonna have you beg for me to stop.” His lips met mine, our teeth clashing at the force. He pressed me once more into the mattress, I let out a gasp of surprise and smiled. He smiled back, more sadistically.

When his hands wrapped around my throat, I held his wrists for support.

“And you know what?” He asked, his thrusts resuming, moans and groans of pleasure flooding from our mouths as he spoke, “When you beg me to stop, I’ll go harder.” I felt the smile widening on my face—I also saw Hanma’s faltering for a second, so I pulled him towards me and kissed him hungrily before whispering with a lack of air, “Please stop.”

He looked at me in shock for a second, then matched my energy. He leaned back and balanced himself on his knees before fucking me hard, his hips slamming into my thighs over and over again while his hands gripped my waist painfully, “Greedy fucking bitch—I’ll make you beg for fucking real.” That crazy laugh that escaped his mouth had me aching even more, I just knew he was about to let loose and I couldn’t wait to feel him at his rawest. It was nothing like before, because I was not ashamed anymore. I was not trying to fight this feeling inside me, I was not trying to act like I was good anymore, I fully embraced how fucked up this was—how fucked up he was.

How fucked up I had become.

“Weak ass moans you’re giving me there, I said scream.” He lifted my hips and resumed ramming into me, his fingers scratching my stomach painfully before suddenly leaning over once again. When I reached for his face, whines of pleasure in both our ears, he slapped my hands away, “Hands off.” He spat then sank his teeth hard in one of my breasts, “Fuck—that shit hurt!” I grabbed his hair angrily, pulling his head back and meeting the playful gaze of the man I loved. There was a gleam of insanity in those beautiful eyes of his. It warned me that I shouldn’t have done that, so I tugged once more and slowly smiled, “Please Shuji, stop.” I mocked.

I had never been so bold.

I had never felt this urge to fuck with him.

I wanted him to hurt me.

I wanted to feel pain.

Bruising me in the process, he forced my hand away from him and placed it on my throat, “Be good and choke yourself, show me how bad you got it for me, yeah?” He smirked, reaching for something on the side.

Following his instructions, I tightened my grip on my throat and let him place my free hand on my stomach, “Half a heart, babe. Your fingers, half a heart—there we go!” He then brought his free hand to complete the heart and I saw as he raised his phone and took a full picture of me. He then brought the phone to my face, “Look at you, choking yourself! If that’s not devotion, I don’t know what is.” He was over the moon for this short moment, he was elated. I tried to hold his hands but he shook his head and tutted me, bringing my arm back over my head as he continued filming, “Why’s my psychotic girl tryna act cute? Show them how fucked up you are,” He paused and brought his hand to my clit as he slowly resumed his thrusting, “What would you do for me? Hm?”

I started lifting myself from the mattress every time his fingers would brush my clit just the right away, a lazy smile drawing itself on my lips, “Anything—ask and I’ll do it.” I uttered through heavy pants. I was gripping the sheets now to stop myself from reaching out for him and he smiled at that and turned the camera towards himself, “She said ‘anything’, if y’all couldn’t hear,” He turned the phone back to me, his movements fastening and making me spasm under him as I dug my head in the pillows, eyes closed while I tried to focus on the pleasure, “So you would kill for me.” He asked in what I believed was a humorous tone.

He was being playful.

He was being himself, testing me, as if I was still on trial after all I had done for him.

But him asking that only lit something in me. Some sort of daunting passion—a passion that shouldn’t have been this strong, a passion that if pushed far enough would lead to something dreadful. I could feel it deep inside me that the question he’d just asked had found an answer in that bottomless well of obsession I had for the man in front of me. It scared me, but being scared wouldn’t help anyone, it would only be a problem for me so I had to live up to it.

I tried to meet his gaze but instead looked at the camera dead-center and grinned, “Yeah, anyone.”

The wicked laugh that I heard from him brought me to the edge as I tensed only for him to stop everything and throw the phone away, “I messed you up real good, huh?” He brushed my hair back then held my face between his large hands and with a painfully slow thrust started fucking me again, “And yet you’re enjoying it so much…” He whispered against my lips. I connected our mouths desperately and kissed him with fervor, nodding into the kiss. Hanma kissed back sloppily on purpose, breaking the kiss with his tongue between us, “You’d take anything I’d give you.” One of his hands returned to my clit and started rubbing it roughly, making me wince as I tilted my head back, “Fuck yes—anything, please.”

And that made him chuckle.

“We got the begging! You’re close, all ya gotta do is cry now.”

I tried to bring him closer by kicking my heel against his back, my legs still on his shoulders. He gave my thigh a violent slap to stop me, “Watch it.” He threatened.

“I’m close, let me—I’m so fucking close, don’t–” I reached for his hand when he moved it away from between my legs. I desperately pressed it back where it was but he looked at me with one raised brow, “That was embarrassing.” He smiled sweetly before simply pressing his thumb on my clit as he leaned over my form, his eyes roaming my body as mine did his. What I would do to keep this very moment anchored in my mind, this hungry look in his eyes, that arrogant smile, those sinful hands full of filth, our bodies pressed against one another, sweaty, dirty. “How does my girl feel knowing just moments ago these fucking hands were covered in blood?” He gritted through his teeth almost angrily as he kissed down my chest, lipstick smearing all over his lips messily.

He didn’t care, neither did I.

I was too lost in the image he had projected in my head, of that wicked smile of his, or perhaps was it boredom when he’d take care of dead bodies? The blood on his hands—no, he was smarter than that, he wore gloves, right? I was too curious to keep imagining it, so I looked at him and softly went, “I want you to describe to me what you did…”

It felt like a déjà vu, of when he had gotten rid of Rai’s boyfriend. When I had been so sick I thought I needed to hear more of how he did it.

“...I think if you describe it more… if I reach my worst now, I’m not going to get sick later, right?” That was the logic, but it was not irrefutable, the best play had been to turn off everything.

Now I wanted to hear him in detail, not just for the sound of his voice, but because there was this thrill in knowing he had done all of this out in the open—in knowing he wouldn’t get caught, and perhaps in hoping he had done it for me.

After all, had Rai really been a threat at Bonten’s level? Or was she just a threat to his plan, to all he had planned for me, for us?

“What is there to say? You did all the work!” He pressed a kiss to my head, “A pretty bullet right there.” He then wrapped my arms around his neck and helped me rest on his lap—I instinctively started fucking myself on him. He smiled at that, grunting. “Carried the bitch to this worksite a few blocks away while you were having your little shower moment—then I tossed her in cement that was still drying.” His hands slowly slid to my ass as he helped me spread my legs even more. I rested my head against his cheek when I felt him hit deep, “The rest is for the my little guys to take care of, I ain’t no construction worker, they–”

I interrupted him by kissing him, “That’s fucking boring, I think you turned me off.” I taunted.

He burst out laughing and let himself fall back on the bed, letting me ride him how I wanted with his hands holding tightly onto my ass, “Fuck, you have attitude—not bloody enough for you? Is that why you’re bored?” He asked jokingly.

Yet, I nodded.

“Tell me if you had to get rid of me, how would you do it?” I breathed against his lips.

He shook his head and thrusted into me with a huge smile, “I’m not doing that shit. My sleep deprived doll’s a bit more fucked up than usual, huh?” He cooed.

I quickly held onto his hips as I resumed fucking myself in sync with his movements, “Please, I wanna know.” Hanma cut me off by pulling out of me suddenly and forcing me to lay back on the bed, him once more on top. His hand returned to my neck as he hovered over me and watched me like a hawk, “You wanna hear that I’d take my slow time?” His free hand moved between my legs, his fingers grazing my abused clit making me let out a choked gasp as I met his gaze with pleading eyes. My lower stomach was starting to hurt not just from his thrusts but from the constant denial of my orgasm, my whole lower half felt like it was burning but it also felt so fucking good.

“That it’d be personal?” He asked again.

I wanted it to be personal, I wanted it to look like nothing he had ever done. I wanted it to be a surprise to both of us, I wanted him to cry while doing it.

His fingers were replaced by his cock as he slowly pressed it against my clit, “That I’d have a hard time doing it?” Yes, I wanted him to struggle. To be conflicted, to show me it was hard to get rid of me, that I was his—that he loved me.

His hips started moving. I smiled through the pain, enjoying the friction more than necessary.

“It’d be a shame.” I uttered, my face losing all circulation from how tight his hand was wrapped around my throat. He smiled at that, suddenly shoving his cock inside me, making me scream at the pain. He moved his hand from my neck to my face, brushing the tears away, “Cause I worked hard on my pet project, I invested so much.” He continued. The pounding inside me was never stopping, so much so it started to hurt, every time I would be close it was as if he knew it and purposely slowed down his pace, making me whine in disappointment. “Is it too much?” While the question seemed kind, it dripped with sarcasm.

Breathlessly, I shook my head—agressive thrusts resumed, making me howl as my arms flew to his head, “Fuck!” I whimpered, I fucking whimpered, immediately covering my mouth to not give him the satisfaction of hearing such sounds from me.

A mocking sound escaped his lips, “Aw, what is it, baby? Was that too much?” He asked, thrusting each time he’d speak, making my whole body shake as I tried to angle myself for more pleasure. I didn’t reply. “We could make it worse though, right?”

He looked down at me and spat on my sex before rapidly stroking my clit, the guttural cry that ripped from my throat made him laugh out of breath but he never stopped, “I can finish and leave you hanging.” He threatened, each of his thrusts more erratic than the other. My head tilted back, I couldn’t focus on his words but I knew I didn’t want him to stop. I was too close, it hurt so good I had to let go. I needed to find relief, I couldn’t take another missed orgasm. I tried to reach over to finish it myself but he slapped my hand away once more, scoffing, “Or you can start begging for me to let you cum.”

I was picturing his face in the alley that night on Halloween—the blood on his face and fists, the insanity in his eyes, the way he’d called me cute, how desperate he would’ve acted that night if it hadn’t been for the cops coming. The way he killed the doorman so effortlessly with his bare hands on the casino night, those same hands that held me down, that pleasured me, that could kill me right here and now but he wouldn’t.

I trusted him.

I believed he was as obsessed with me as I was with him, that this obsession would keep us together—but I also knew he could hurt me the way I liked, roughen me up just how we both wanted because I was his doll. He could do whatever he wanted with me—to me.

And if I had to beg for him to let me have my fun, I would do so with a smile. I would give him my all just to please him.

“Shuji please—please I’m so close, fuck! Shu–” I cried out, overstimulated, hungry for him, desperate for this tension in my body to snap and leave me. I need him, I need him, I—

A chuckle. A simple chuckle through the hard breathing, the moans and the desperation. That was all he gave me before mocking, “That’s needy but not passionate enough, try again.”

He laughed manically as he rammed inside me over and over, all I could do was cry in ache, in want, in utter frenzy. He couldn’t hear how much I loved him. If he did, he’d be scared. But the words wanted to flood out of my mouth, to tell him that I needed him so much I didn’t think I could live without him—may it be out of fear of being alone in Bonten or because he was the only one who would take me for who I had become.

And who I had become was him.

A replica of the man I loved.

Made for him, by him.

My face was heating up in embarrassement as I moaned, tears running down my cheeks, “Shu—please, I—I need this, I need your cock, fuck—I’m so fucking close, please!” I started muttering ‘please’ under my breath like a mantra, his movements rapid, his hands slipping on my skin from how warm we both were, how sweaty we had become. Our knees ached, my legs ached, I was clawed all over and he added to it as he dug his nails in my thighs when he rammed inside me once last time, filling me up as I spasmed under him, his eyes meeting mine in boredom as he rubbed mercilessly, “There we fucking go! You’re clenching that pretty pussy so much I might go for a round two!” Everything was too much, I cried out in pleasure before falling limp on the bed, fucked out.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I was tired.

Hanma lazily patted my cheek, “Don’t pass out just yet, babe.”

Gently, I took his hand in mine and pressed a kiss on it before resting our intertwined hands on my stomach, “I’m so tired, let me sleep, Shu…” I drawled, turning around on my side to look at him as I placed his hand on my hip.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch you acting all Mikey and shit.” He said off-handedly, his hand warmer than his words as he let it slide off me a second. He then lay down next to me and helped one of my legs between his, the other above them. The action was soft, something I hadn’t expected—I thought he would go to sleep and let me be. But when he placed a bent arm under my head, his head resting in the palm of his hand, my heart soared. It was like something was lodged in my throat, I couldn’t look at him in fear of crying from the foreign tenderness he was displaying. “Next time you ask me to picture your death, I’ll beat your ass to a fucking pulp, understood?”

My eyes widened. I stared at his chest in awe and nodded silently, he huffed a laugh, “And all that self harming shit? I’ll fuck you hard if that’s what ya need, but you ain’t doing nothing else.” He added… caringly?

“I don’t plan on it… I’m good.” I whispered, hesitantly wrapping an arm around his waist to bring him closer. We had never been this close, I feared crossing some boundaries but he rapidly reassured me when he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, “That’s my girl. I built you invincible—you’ll put to shame that depressed fucker.” He joked, referencing Mikey’s title.

Chuckling, I started caressing his back absent-mindedly, “I am not nearly as strong as any of them, but I promised I’ll get there.” I couldn’t lose in their world. I was already fighting for a place in it, I couldn’t allow myself to be weaker than them—I had to thrive for greatness, or perhaps fear. Whichever would make them respect me better.

“I can’t really fuck up now, can I?” I asked rhetorically.

Hanma hummed inquisitively, “Are you trying to get to the top?”

“I want to not be a burden to your reputation. I want to be a shine to it, I want to be useful to you… to Bonten.” Bonten was all I had now, I had to give it my all. All the people I cared about were in it, I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t disappoint, I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck—I am surrounded by all the people I love, it’s all I could ask for, I forced myself to think differently.

He scoffed, “Yeah well, don’t worry your pretty head over stupid mistakes I can fix.” That dismissive tone of his hid the affection he had—or so I managed to make myself believe. It made my heart beat faster in my chest, keeping me fully awake.

Smiling to myself, I closed my eyes and enjoyed his warmth, “That’s reassuring, but I should be careful.” I mumbled.

“Nah, mistakes are fun, you’re stressing over dumb shit.” Of course he would be like that.

“I’m not allowed–”

“Nothing’s set in stone. Everything can change, so get that in your head and stop fucking overthinking, it’s stressing me out.”

With that, he threw the covers back on our forms and told me to stop talking, adding that I had exhausted him with my shit.

In the quiet of the night, even after all that had happened, all I had done, all he had done to me, I still held him tighter, whispering in the back of my head… “I love you.”

[Part 25] Final Part

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