#hanma x reader smut

[fueledbysano]

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒~!

how they deal with an ovulating and very horny wife.

♱ c/w: MATURED. MDNI. afab!reader, mentions of periods and pregnancy, breeding, creampies, fingering, praising, baby trapping, overstimulation, fluff/smut.

♱ ft. kazutora, mikey, hanma, sanzu, ran.

♱ a/n: the most evil horny of them all. also, happy 4k! thank you so much for all the love in my fics. also, I may have a different writing style with hanma because it was intended for a different fic with a more romantic tone. but I decided it worked just fine for this one too.

♡ tags; @manilamikeyswifey @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork

reblogs appreciated!

♡ Kazutora

As soon as he woke up, Kazutora already felt how slightly warmer you felt in his arms, almost as if you had a fever. That morning, you were in a particularly good mood as well, especially with your husband clinging to you. He gave you a moment to absorb his gaze before softly grinning. Good morning, baby girl…”

Before you could say anything, Kazutora's lips touched yours as his fingertips lifted your chin up. He waited motionlessly for your approval, which you offered by gently pressing your lips against his. You were unable to resist as your kiss got more intense. You felt a surge of lust that fueled the kiss and drew his body close to yours. After what seemed like a flash, you separated from one another.

“Want to stay~?” You asked him, never letting your gaze leave his so he could make no mistake as to what it is that you wanted. Knowing what was going on, Kazutora cleared his throat. Before you went to sleep last night, he observed you check your period tracker app. He remembered that you had noted that today had a blue mark on the calendar, signifying that you are ovulating and most fertile.

You mumbled quietly into his palm, locking eyes with him as you gently rubbed your nose against his. "Honey, please," you begged. You were certain that the lust was becoming stronger as he continued to stay silent, merely his gentle breath touching your neck.

Kazutora's long hair tickled your cleavage while he bit little patches of your skin in the crook of your neck; your heavy breaths and noises getting him bricked up in an instant. He lifted the band shirt you borrowed from him before trailing his hands down your chest, and lingering them above your thin panties.

“I love how pretty your pussy looks…” His mouth almost watered at the wet print on your panties before he pulled them off in one swift movement. “It’s like a flower~” He praised before keeping hot eye contact with you the whole time he lifted your leg up his shoulder lustfully. Soon enough, he attacked the inside of your thighs with hungry kisses. As if you couldn't have been doing it enough, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched in pleasure.

Your hands reached to clench his streaks as you felt Kazutora's lips lap at your sensitive core, and you could feel his lips smiling at your breathy moans of his name. He would shift between quick tongue flicks, languid licks, and sporadic light clitsucking.Kazutora easily inserted a finger into your wetness and curled up with it. Your head dipped back when he slipped a second finger and made the same movement.

Soon enough, Kazutora's cock was straining so hard in his boxers that it itches for a relief inside of your walls. So he reached for the side drawer for the box of condoms you always kept there. However, before he could grasp the wooden knob, you quickly reacted and grabbed hold of his wrist. “It’s okay…” You assured with a soft smile. Kazutora questioned as if you weren't fine with it; he'd rather end the situation before something serious occurs. “Yes, my love.” You exhaled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Kazutora felt his stomach turn at this confession. All the thoughts he had about getting you pregnant and starting a family with you was at its breaking point, especially now that you had said yes to him. “D’you want me to give you a baby, pretty girl?” He makes sure once more and yet again, you agreed.

“I’ll give you as many as you want…” Kazutora sat you on his thighs in a cradle before rocking upwards to you, placing your arms on his chest as a brace. You raised your hips and felt his length slip out before lowering your cunt on it abruptly.

Pleasure was making you slightly dizzy on top of him, but you made an effort to maintain your eyes on Kazutora at all times. By this point, your hips were colliding with each other with each thrust, evoking gasping groans from both of you as you watched your bodies connect.

“I’m not going to last any longer…” Kazutora admitted, feeling the pre cum from his tip coat your cervix. “That’s okay, I’m close yoo.” You insisted. You felt a little jolt as he abruptly shoved his hips upward. You gasped in shock before giving him a seductive glance.

It was excessive. Your orgasm overcame your senses and knocked the air out of your throat as it descended. Despite wanting to see Kazutora’s vulnerable expression, your eyes screw shut at the sensation of clamping your walls around his dick. The pleasure shook throughout your body.

Your husband was keeping an eye on you, and seeing you at your climax was all it took to push him over the edge. He finally lost it due to your grip, releasing all of his pent-up seed. It was so enthralling that he didn't want the moment to finish.

“You’re so amazing, my darling.” Kazutora praised as he laid your fragile body on the sheets.

♡ Mikey

Emma and Draken had just left your home after collecting their infant, who had been under you and his uncle Mikey's care for the entire morning and afternoon. If it wasn't for Draken who restrained him while Emma took the baby back, Mikey wouldn't have wanted to let go of the little bundle of joy.

“[ Y / N ], just give Manjiro a baby already.” Emma remarks in jest before Draken bids goodbye and closes the door behind them, leaving a very flustered Mikey behind. You chuckled at your husband's reaction before pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead, “Go get cleaned, honey. I'll make the bed.” He hummed affectingly, closing his eyes in alleviation before murmuring into your ear, “Love you so much~”

If his scratchy voice didn't already drive you crazy, your heart sure did skip when Mikey's hands found their way to your hips, slipping under your shirt and onto your skin before tracing delicate circles. You froze. You balled the collar of his shirt, closed your eyes, and pressed your cheek to his hair before gasping out. Mikey made a gesture that typically you found sweet, but tonight, it switched something inside you. He secretly blushed from the sound you made before withdrawing from your embrace and then doing his business upstairs.

The entire time you prepared for bed, you couldn't resist the thoughts of having your husband touch and fondle you in such sensual ways; It's nothing out of the ordinary to lust for your husband, yet tonight, you felt more drawn to him than usual. it's like... hold on.

Glancing at the calendar, you realize that it has been two weeks since your period. of course, you are ovulating. Explains the baby fever you felt too while watching you and Mikey's nephew. While it is a guaranteed card to get laid, the intense lust almost aches; the only thing plaguing your mind is having Mikey touch all over your body as he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

“Good night, my darling wife.” From underneath the covers and your shirt, Mikey’s hand cups your breast and starts to massage it gently, twisting and pulling at your nipple. His other hand was caressing your legs, and his fingers tickled as they softly moved up your inner thighs. You were enjoying his touches so much you didn’t realize the pooling mess in between your legs that began to soak through your panties. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Mikey muttered and toyed with your clit slowly before pressing soft kisses on your neck.

Your heart is aching from eagerness, melting, and ready to breach from your chest at any moment. Fortunately, Mikey also got impatient and tugged your panties aside, making you feel his erect shaft, which had been straining in his pants ever since he spotted you splayed on your marital bed. “Good girl,” He praises, sinking into you again and again.

Normally, Mikey would whimper and grunt into your ear during sex. But tonight, feeling how significantly aroused and tight you are, Mikey didn't bother to strain the pornographic moans in his throat as he drove into your puffy g-spot.

Your hands flew up in an instant, encasing his face in your palms. He was ready to pause and kiss you, until you muttered something that had him reeling. “Knock me up, honey.” Although his head hadn't yet absorbed the words, his body had, and the words had come as a surprise to him. He came abruptly and forcefully, his head falling to nuzzle your neck as a heavy grunt erupted from his chest. Mikey’s orgasm had brought you to yours as he rode it out in shallow thrusts.

Mikey rolled off you to lay down at your side; your legs entwined as he was still inside you. “I love you….” he muttered lovingly.

To be connected with him in the most intimate ways was always so enchanting. You two stayed like that, just snuggling as you caught your breath, knowing that whatever happened in the future because of tonight, you two would do it together with love.

♡ Hanma

Hanma took you into a romantic weekend getaway at a cabin house. The day of birdwatching and camping was long over and when the navy blue took over the cerulean blue sky. 

Upon arriving in your cabin, you two settled down on the settee positioned by the warm fireplace, the sound of burning wood and the scent of pine trees completed the atmosphere. You notice that his eyes have the same sparkle that you admired when you first met him after exchanging a lingering stare with him. 

Hanma's pulse was hammering as he leaned forward to take in the view, his heart pounding at how stunning you looked with the continuous stream of sunlight streaming into the cabin room. He leaned in close enough that the points of your cupid's bows touched for another fiery kiss.

As you closed the distance between you and him, your hold on his jaw loosened. You pressed your lips against his, eyes peering up at his, as if checking to see if he was still down with it.Your lips brushed across his tenderly before you firmly planted them there. His brows knitted together and eyes remained open until your hand reached up to cradle the soft patch of locks at the back of his head and your tongue flicked at his lower lip.

Instead of touching you, he lets you touch him, allowing you to find your own degree of comfort. Both yours and Hanma's coats slid down your back, falling off your shoulders. You started unbuckling your belt straps as you stared down at him. As you reached the buttons on your blouse, the leather dropped about your waist. As you unfastened the buttons one by one, he attentively watched you, his eyes memorizing every piece of exposed skin. Even though you've done it countless times already before, seeing you undress just for him did something to him that he couldn't put into words. It was an image that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“You're finally off your period, baby?” Hanma remarked as your lips pressed together again, hot and heavy. He last initiated to be intimate with you while you were in the middle of your period, but you gently rejected. So he has been waiting ever since.

He was speechless as to what you were doing to him. He felt weightless, like if he were soaring through the air, rising higher with each kiss and amount of contact between your hips. “Yes…”

Before slowly moving his hands over your exposed abdomen, he waited until you were stripped down to your cotton bra. As he played at the cloth beneath your breasts, his eyes followed you, looking for permission to push his fingers past it. As his hands excitedly stroked and kneaded the skin of your exposed breasts, you tugged the garment up and over your head completely, flinging it aside and leaning over him.

He bit back a low grunt as your hand cupped his bulge, stopping his hips from arching into the warmth of your palm. He did as he was told and unbuckled his belt. As he drew out his erection through his pants, his warm stare didn't flinch away from yours. He didn't consider himself a nervous person, but something about being completely at your mercy was too much for him to stand.

His hands reached down to your thighs and circled your pelvis, just above your core, tickling the sensitive area there. You groaned in agony, your legs swaying in anticipation. He indulged you because he sensed your impatience. As the touch of his rough fingers ran across your sensitive bud, his eyes narrowed and a cry dropped from your eager lips. Then he rested his finger there, leaning in close to you and curling the digit against it again and over, causing your lips to open, body tensing, and stars flashing in your eyes.

"You like that?" He said in a low, sultry tone, eyes locked hard on your dazed expression. Of course he knew you loved that.

"That's my good girl. Feel good?" You nod, out of breath and dizzy. He grinds himself up against you and brushes his member up and down your wet folds, enclosing you in his embrace. Your body jerks, his smooth cock sliding against your excessively sensitive bud, eliciting a small sequence of aftershocks that lead him to tut and smile smugly. Then he pushes himself halfway into you and waits a moment for you to open up for him. Slowly, his hips pull back, almost entirely separating him from you before plunging in further deeper. He goes through the motions once more, sliding out only to sink back in with ease all the way to the hilt.

A string of curses fall from his lips as your hips grind against him haphazardly, too thrown by the cusp of your orgasm to be able to match his rhythmic thrusts. As the coil finally snaps you clamp down hard on his cock, a loud moan tearing out from you as you cum wholly wrapped up in him. For a moment his hips still, letting you fuck yourself through your orgasm before he still for a moment, head thrown back and words slipping out quickly, "Where do you want it?"

"I-In me." Your breathy moans of his name were enough to make him shoot his release, pouring it deep inside you just as you wanted as he reached his climax.

You collapsed on top of your husband, his member still deep inside you while the two of you caught your breaths, bodies fitting together like a puzzle.

You two stayed like this for a moment, letting yourselves peacefully bask into each other's embrace intimately by the fire and reminiscing what may be the start of the final days of being "just you two".

♡ Sanzu

Your heart was beating impossibly fast as your back slammed against the door of your bedroom, Sanzu reaching blindly to open it before he had his hands on yours once again. You were thrilled that your husband was just as needy as you are, after all, you were the one who first dragged him out of Bonten's afterparty at the club directly below your penthouse.

Your knees struck the edge of the mattresses as Sanzu pushed you into the bed. The metal bands on his fingers sent goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your back to unzip your dress. Sanzu broke the kiss to allow himself to soak in the sight of your body, concealed only in your panties.

You responded by reaching up to seize his undone tie, luring him into another lustful kiss while you took turns removing his clothing.

“I don’t have a condom.” Sanzu bit his lip after the lie, waiting for your response. He had been thinking about hitting it raw for several days now and he just couldn't wait any longer.

“It’s okay…” You insist, murmuring against his lips with a smirk. “I want this…” Your whisper is followed by a soft gasp when Sanzu pushes you to the bed. He groaned at the feeling of your soft breast pushing against his, as he pulled your panties off.

You reached your hands to cup his face in your hands, leaning up to press a hungry kiss to his lips. And that was when Sanzu pushed himself inside you. Your moans were synced, both consumed by the pent-up tension you two have been holding onto.

He precisely filled you up, pressing into every little crevice and nerve as he thrust. Your legs lifted up to his shoulders, the new angle allowing Sanzu's tip to nudge against your cervix. He let out a vulnerable moan, his hands fisting the mattresses tighter with every blow.

You moaned his name loudly, hands reaching above your head to brace yourself on the cushioned headboard.

Sanzu pressed a thumb on your clit in response, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your leg as he kept a steady pace.

“I’ll make you a daddy~” You flashed him a mischievous grin as your legs fell to wrap around his waist, locking his member pistoning inside you. Moans echoed through the room louder than you initially planned to, but Sanzu loved it.

Sanzu's body felt like it was on fire when the nickname escaped your lips. “You’ll make a pretty mommy.” He moaned in between thrusts, one hand gripping the headboard behind you for better traction.

“Let's cum together, sweetheart.” That was all you needed before you were pushed over the edge into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your nails sank onto Sanzu's shoulders, clinging onto him as he rode out your orgasm.

“So perfect, baby…” Your husband's moans were rough and low, choking on a grunt as he pushed his cum deep inside you.

♡ Ran

Even though you have only been at work for four hours, you are already regretting leaving your husband in bed, wishing nothing but to be in his arms right now. You weren't usually clingy to Ran, in fact, it was the other way around. However, today you felt a stronger yearning toward him than usual.

“What’re you thinking about, miss?” Her assistant jokes.

You shook it off, realizing you had been zoning out yet again. You’ve been thinking about so many things about Ran, but there’s no way you could tell her that.

“Nothing, just a little sleepy.” Yes, sleepy is the way to put it…  “I’d be glad to take over for you, ma’am.” She insisted. “Are you sure? Alright, thank you so much. Ring me up if you need anything.” You smiled at your assistant before handing her the papers, waving on the way out.

1PM. Ran is usually in his own office at the Bonten HQ around this time. You cannot wait to go home to him tonight and you wanted to be sure that he'd feel the same way, thinking about nothing but hving you for the rest of his work.

So, on the spur of the moment, you scrolled through your personal "intimate" photo album, specifically selecting one in which you wore a set of black lace lingerie that Ran had purchased for you.

sent 3 images

miss you, honey ♡

You were pretty proud of your text, knowing that Ran might get in trouble once he opens it while at work.

However, as minutes pass, you start to wonder what he may be up to this time. You could only hope that it was a good time to send that text, or maybe he may really get in trouble for causing him such distraction.

“[ Y / N ]-sama, a package for you at the door.” Your assistant says over the intercom. You took a breath and placed your hand at the door. You didn’t even get the chance to look up before you heard an unmistakable voice clear their throat.

“Where’s my hello, darling?” You immediately blushed, your eyes hesitantly looking up to meet the source of the voice. And there was your husband, clad in all black. A few strands of his lilac hair hovered over his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed together.

“Baby,” You breathed. Ran uncrossed his arms and locked you in his embrace. “You called for me, angel?” A slight rasp in his voice as he whispered drove you crazy.

“Ran...” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought your lips up to meet him in a fiery kiss. He smiled against your lips, gladly obliging to your request as your lips spoke for the pent up desire you held for each other. 

Your breaths picked up, as did your heart rates as Ran’s grip on your waist grew tighter, wanting more. Suddenly, his hands effortlessly hoisted you onto your desk. He knocked off a few things to make room for you on the surface. 

As Ran’s fingers crept higher up your skirt, your legs spread wider to make space for his petite waist. Ran held you flush against his body, one hand roaming your back as you held each other close. “My naughty wife needs me…” He whispered, undoing his pants before bringing himself closer to you as he set your panties aside.

The tip of his shaft brushed your clit. You moved his member along your folds, thoroughly soaking the tip. Ran felt goosebumps in his arms as you both exchanged breathless gasps in pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl to me…” He whispered, kissing you softly. Slowly but surely, you took the entirety of his length just before he hits your cervix due to the position you're in. Ran slowly withdrew before slamming back into you in exactly the same spot he stopped at.

“Am I taking you well, honey? D’you hear that? Fuck, you dick me down so good.” You praised, whispering seductively into his ear. You felt Ran’s length throb inside of you upon hearing those words before he pushed one deep thrust with a grunt,

“Keep talking like that and I might just blow my load deep inside you.” You and Ran had always been careful. But his suggestion puts ideas in your head.

You are aware that you have a high chance of getting pregnant today, and that only pushed you into agreeing to your husband. Ran had always been vocal about dreaming of having children with you, but he is also very considerate and respectful of your decisions so he waited for the right time for you.

You are happy with the stability in your life and would dearly love to expand your small family with Ran.

He started to dive into you a little harder as he could feel himself releasing shortly. By how you clenched his shaft a lot tighter, he could tell that you were close to your climax too. 

“Where do you want it, baby—?” Ran whispered, holding your body softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist just in time. Ran came hard and suddenly, straining his moans against your lips in a kiss. That answered his question and was all he needed to pour his load into your pussy as you came together.

[manjibunny]

Minors do not interact!

Listen, Hanma and Ran (separately) are the type of boyfriends that let you take care of their nails. They'd watch you cut their nails as you talk about your day, maybe even ranting about that one coworker that you hate. Gosh, they love to gossip to you about their gangs, too, while you paint their nails for them. Once you're finished, you're getting the sweetest kiss to reward you for your efforts.

But little did you know that the true reward would be a few nights later, when their nails have no rough edges from the cutting, the polish still beautifully intact.

They'd pin you against the bed as they kiss your neck, savoring your cute moans and the smell of your perfume. They'd tease your throbbing clit over your panties. As they graze over the thin fabric, they feel a wet spot forming from your arousal.

"Aw, my baby wants me, huh? You've been so good to me lately, I think you deserve to be rewarded ♡"

They'd push your panties to the side and gently slide in their ringfinger into your sobbing pussy. Their long finger has no issue with finding your g spot. You'd gasp as they'd add another finger, already feeling so deliciously full from just two fingers inside. Their thumb would soon find its way to your clit, giving your poor unattended clit some attention as their middle and ring finger bullied your insides.

"My sweet lil thing, cum for me. C'mon baby, I know you wanna cum" They'd muse into your ear, gently biting on your ear shell. The affirmation was all you needed, you let go as the knot in your stomach exploded. Your orgasm erupted through your whole body, your whole body shook as you felt a warm sensation wash over you. Being the attentive boyfriends they are, they'd help you ride out your orgasm, kissing your cheek as you came down.

"Good job, baby. But I think you can give me one more ♡"

[slttygeto]

tags: fem! reader, nsfw, taking pictures.

ft: hanma shuji.

you get shuji a polaroid camera for his birthday, something simple for a man with such an expensive taste—the rolex watch costs more than your monthly rent, without mentioning of course the expensive suits that he carelessly discards of in your bathroom to fuck you in the shower. you always end up freaking out on him that it costs so much, and he just waves his black card, reassuring you that it’s nothing.

(you also forget that there’s a 2023 black matte Bentley parked right in front of your apartment building)

and hanma shuji thinks this polaroid camera is the best gift he’s ever gotten in his entire life. white, a contrast color to everything he owns (phone, car, house decor…) and he holds it in his hands like it’s the most precious thing ever.

when shuji gives you his dress shirt to wear, buys you a new set of lingerie in his favorite color and tells you not to wear any makeup—you don’t know that it would end up with you two having a photoshoot on your bed.

“shuji… the light is blinding me,” your words are muffled as he presses his lips against yours in a quick, wet kiss. he’s shirtless and visibly hard in his slacks. his grey suit pants look so tight against his strong thighs, and everytime he tells you to look at the camera, you pout slightly that he’s making you look away.

“one more baby, yeah? mhm, you smell so good,” the kiss travels from your cheek to your neck and then chest. he bites onto your boob, right above your nipple—and something about the redness that it leaves drives him a little crazy.

so he does it again, lets you wrap your legs around him in a pathetic attempt to relieve the ache between your legs as he litters love bites across your skin. to you this is torture, but to him it’s art. his way of expressing himself, claiming you as his. you are his.

you hear the camera shutter and when he shows you the picture he took of your love bites covered chest, you hate to admit but—it did look hot.

his hand goes to grope one of your boobs, and your hand finds his as you wrap it around his wrist. the size difference, the obvious dynamic being shown in a rectangle piece of plastic. shuji loses his mind as he stares at the picture he took, his masterpiece.

he believes that this is the best form of foreplay. because you are breathing hard, there’s a wet patch forming in your panties and you’re giving him the eyes that he knows all too well.

“wanna take a pic of me with your cock in my mouth?” sounds tempting. way too fucking tempting, but shuji spreads your legs and pushes your panties to the side before pressing his thumb to your clit, toying with the bud until you’re writhing underneath.

“not until i’ve taken a picture of this pussy, hm? gorgeous pussy.”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[melodyidk]

Thinking about Hanma coming home on his birthday, greeted by an over-bubbly you by the door. He lifts an eyebrow and asks what's got you smiling so wide.

You just giggle and respond innocently with a "You'll see later."

And when he's finally in bed after the diner you made for him he asks you again.

You just get up, turn around and lift up your shirt.

The moment he sees the familiar "Sin" and "Punishment" tattooed on your lower back he practically jumps up in bed.

"You like it?"

"Like it? I love it, dollface ♡"

------------------------------------------------------

Just wanna be branded as his property. Imagine how hard he's gonna fuck you everytime he glances down at you bend over, all for him to use, and sees his tattoos on your body, showing the whole world who you belong to. Gonna grip your hips till you bruise and whine for him, praising you for being his good girl :(

"That's it, pretty. Best fucking gift I've ever received. Gonna fill you all nicely with my cum. You want that, don't you?"

The Hanma brain rot is real y'all

[seraphdreams]

! SO DEEP , I CAN FEEL IT IN MY THROAT !

❧ chars. SHUJI HANMA

❧ contains. bratty!reader, hard/mean dom!hanma, sexy smut.

note: just a quick drabble since i’m trying to get back into writing/also on writing semi-hiatus :(

back arched. an embarrassing display of your ass up, panties off underneath the man before you. hands bound by your sticky lace underwear and drool rolling off the side of your mouth — you would’ve never thought you’d end up like this; from hanma, no less

in all honesty, you definitely deserved what was coming to you. you had tested your boyfriend’s patience to the last bit, and there was just no other way to deal with you. but it’s also so fucking fun.

“you thought that shit was cute, huh?” his voice bellows, almost of a growl as he takes his hand around the base of his cock, not yet slipping into you but teasing your hole just enough. it earns a whine from you and the slight rocking back of your hips. “n-no, i was just playin’—put it in already.” your last vocables sounded of a wanton whine which only vex shuji. how could you so mindlessly manage to piss him off even more, that’s a world record right there.

the ends of your freshly done tresses find themselves entangled around his tattooed fist, the force of his tug inching your head back so that you meet his eyes. “save that shit,” another warning from him. he leans over enough to whisper in your ear, “so it’s cute to fuck on my friends?”

without waiting for a response, he releases your hair, instead lining his cock up with your slit and slowly sliding in. it would’ve felt good to finally get what you’ve been wanting yet his hard, sharp thrusts contradict that. he’s fast too, revelling in the way your ass jiggles each time he matches your hips. if you could slow him down, you would; his intricacy with tying knots leaving you only to take every inch of him. “slow down, s-shuji.” you cry out as your legs grow unstable. it’s almost laughable how you think you have some sort old control as if the thoughts aren’t getting knocked out of your head each time his tip brushes against your cervix. it’s too good.

“‘s okay, jus’ gotta fuck you ‘til you remember who the fuck you belong to.” he leans over once more, effectively lodging his cock even deeper into your cunt. “that good, doll?”

audible and coherent responses flurry in your head yet only fucked out babbles leave your lips. he could take a picture from how pretty you look all dumb on his cock.

you feel your orgasm impending within you, cunt twitching around hanma’s length. his strokes become deeper and more precise in turn, the friction at your gspot building and building until you finally release around him, that familiar ring of sheer whiteness at the base of his cock indicating your orgasm.

“oh? you came?” he queries, positioning himself upright again, a small chuckle coming from him. “a few more times ‘nd i’ll believe you’re sorry.”

[tetsutits]

𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 — hanma shuji x f!reader

SYN: you challenge hanma to a round of poker, and the both of you place your bets. if you win—you get his Bentley and $250k. If he wins, he gets to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back. surely you'll win, right?

CW: toman and bonten make an appearance. gambling. swearing. reader wears a dress. smut. unprotected sex. creampie. groping. pet names (baby, princess, doll, pretty girl). let me know if i missed anything! wc: 3.4k

AN: LISTEN UP! i have absolutely no idea how gambling or casinos work but i did my research and tried my best! this might be inaccurate so i'm apologizing from now hehe. either way, enjoy! (ignore the fact that i changed my fic format again oops)

ty for @megumi-divine and @utahimeow for beta <3 | @tokyometronetwork

MINORS DNI. barely proofread. tr masterlist

"if i win this round," your eyes never leave his as you make your way to the opposite side of the table, "then of course, I get my share. along with your Bentley—and everything that's inside of it."

you see hanmas face turn stern, lip slightly curving down until it's right back up. he's smirking at you, and you already know that he's not backing down from a challenge.

it's a good thing you don't back down, either.

"alright, and if I win," his golden eyes stare into yours, as if they're looking right into your soul, "then I get to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back."

a course of whistles and gasps fill the room, and you see rindou give hanma the deadliest stare possible. a rush of adrenaline fills your body and you feel your knees weaken.

you half expected him to ask for something materialistic—something that has to do with money or expensive items. but to your shock (well, not so much, actually), he'd rather get his dick wet over anything he could possibly have.

you smile at him, and he follows the movement of your perfectly glossed lips as you point to the table and say, "that's a deal then. shall we?"

you ignore the looks and shocked faces of the executives, and let it pass as just a playful round of poker. surely, you'll win. . . right?

and so it begins, you and hanma decide it'll only be one round. no repeats, no second chances, whoever wins gets what they've already decided on prior to the round.

being in these types of places isn't something new to you—casinos, high-end bars and clubs—they're places you frequent with bonten. but there are times where you don't like to involve yourself with their business.

toman and bonten, they regularly meet for business and events. but the two gangs have been rivaling each other for the longest time. they haven't been at each other's throats, they never purposely go out of their way to hurt the other gang—but at the same time, they aren't exactly friends .

you sit right in the middle, between the two. yes, you technically 'belong' to bonten, but you find a certain member of toman interesting. so you never miss out on the opportunity to come along when bonten is meeting with toman.

all because you want to see hanma.

(he wants to see you, too.)

you've been taught how to play poker, but you've never taken it as seriously as they have.

as the round goes on, rindou's eyes never leave yours, he watches like a hawk the entire time, and if you weren't so focused on winning, then you would have told him off.

on the other hand, the way hanma looks so confident and unbothered makes your blood boil. it's not that he's playing carelessly—he isn't. he plays with full concentration but at the same time doesn't look like he's putting much effort at all.

the sight of him, so well put together in his suit, hair perfectly styled, and his demeanor so calm and collected—it makes your thighs squeeze together and you feel warm heat pool inside you.

"what's goin thru that pretty little head of yours, hm?"

your eye snap up to meet his hazy, golden ones. the dim lighting of the casino makes it look like his orbs are glowing, the earring he wears glistens and swings as he moves.

"nothing," you smirk at him from across the table, "i'm just thinking of that Bentley of yours and the $250k that sits in the trunk of it."

you've never seen a man's smile drop so fast in your life. it made the smirk on your lips linger, proud of the subtle reaction he was giving you.

the hand that sits on the table tightens into a fist, and you think you see his veins through this skin.

"oh, yeah? and how would you know that i've got that much money in the back of my car?" he asks, tone neutral but his lips slightly turn up at the corners of his mouth.

you stare at your chips that are stacked on the table, each one varying with value. if you go all in—you could possibly risk losing the entire round and let hanma have his way. but even if you do play safe—you never know what kind of tricks he has up his sleeve.

and one thing that you do know, is that hanma will do anything to get what he wants.

"i guess you can say that i have my sources." you wink back at him.

as the game goes on, you notice his eyes lingering on you—tracing your body in the silky, black dress that you wear. he feels his pants become unbearably uncomfortable at the sight of you, the way your tits sit nice and pretty, the way your neck is a blank canvas all ready for him to mark up with dark bruises and love bites.

and it would all be simply his if he won this round.

mikey and some of the bonten executives are off somewhere finalizing deals and speaking to other gangs here—but rindou has not once left your side. he goes as far as placing a hand on your shoulder while you play.

"you really don't need to babysit me, y'know," you turn to him, speaking quietly enough that it's only you two that can hear, "i'll be fine alone."

rindou's brows furrow but he doesn't say anything, he's always been a little protective of you so this behavior isn't something foreign. instead, he pulls away but speaks right into your ear.

"it's not that i don't trust you," he says as his eyes flick over to hanma's, "i don't trust him."

if hanma can hear, he's definitely ignoring him.

"you can go, and i'll find you once we're done." he finally lets out, giving you a curt nod.

it's obvious he doesn't want to leave, but at the same time he wants to respect your wishes. reluctantly, rindou spares one more glare hanma's way and then slowly takes his leave.

the game goes on, and you feel your palms become even more sweatier by the second. the air feels thick, and anxiety swims through your blood.

opposite of you, hanma pulls out a cigar, lighting it, taking a long drag as he watches you.

the glowing lights create an atmosphere around the two of you that makes it seem like nobody else exists here. the world stills. it's just you, hanma, and this little game of poker.

you must be too absorbed in the game because he laughs, and you think it's the first time that you see his pearly white teeth as he throws his head back slightly, "c'mon, pretty girl, don't be so tense. this is all fun and games, right?"

you pout, mostly because you're frustrated with the way the round is going. you'd been so

sure that you made the right moves in order to be on the winning path—but then again, anyone that plays with hanma shuji should know that their fate is set in stone the second the round begins.

at some point in the round you find yourself at a disadvantage.

hanma is making moves that you'd think would be better for you — but instead it's giving him the upper hand.

your leg bounces under the table, but your face remains stoic in an effect to conceal his true effect on you.

hanma makes move after move, each one calculated precisely. he makes sure that whatever he does—it'll be in his advantage in the end.

as much as you try to counter him, you conclude that your best efforts don't compare to his natural skills. he knows too much—too many tricks, too many ways to get himself out of a situation.

you're like a puppet on a string that he controls. even if he's playing against you, it seems as if he has been pulling certain strings this whole time, jeopardizing every single one of your movements.

before you know it, the round is over. it's inevitable—you think. but now you're doubting yourself and your confidence as you register the results of the round. you stare at the chips, the cash and the drinks sprawled out on the table—and you try to recall where you went wrong but nothing comes to mind.

you sit there, shocked and unable to say anything. you've lost—but a part of you doesn't seem to be upset about that fact. yes, you could have come home with a shit ton of money and a brand new car—but you find yourself already slowly accepting your defeat.

you know you could get anything you want, anyway. but you play for the fun, you play for the thrill of it you play for the rush of adrenaline you get every time you place a chip down.

you're snapped out of your daydream when you hear hanma whistle, loud and long. he has a grin on his face that makes you scowl in return. the taste of losing is bitter in your mouth.

"i think we already knew this was going to happen, princess." he says, tone low and deep.

you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, he follows the movement with his eyes, shamelessly eyeing your chest, "you must've cheated somewhere, y-you cant just win that easily. i've nev—"

"i've won fair and square." he cuts you off. "no need to make excuses. and for the record, no, actually, i didn't cheat."

you pinch the bridge of your nose. your palms are clenched in a tight fist under the table. hanma brings out an anger inside you that you've never even known you harbored.

he leans forward, large body towering over the table. he's close enough that if he whispers you'd be able to hear him, "i think you owe me, pretty girl."

you bite the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything, and you think you taste blood. he's not wrong, you do technically owe him something. but at the same time, you're not mad at how this round has ended.

hanma gets up from where he was sitting, dusting off his pants, and making his way over to you.

he stands looming over you, looking down as he reaches his hand out, "shall we?" he says mockingly, repeating the same words you told him earlier.

you look up at him through your lashes, and he swears he feels his dick get even harder from the sight.

"don't keep me waiting, doll," he says, a slight smile to his lips.

you give in to him, you just got a free chance to fuck Japans 2nd most dangerous criminal. the same one you've been pining after for the longest time.

you take his hand and he leads you away from the table and crowd. you catch rindou's shocked eyes as you're walking hand in hand with hanma.

“w-where are we going?” you ask in a hurry, ignoring the stares that you're getting from the onlookers.

hanma doesn't look back at you, but he keeps the grip on your hand firm, “i'm not actually taking you to the private rooms. that's where all the ugly business goes down.”

he leads you through the tables and the crowd, taking you all the way to the bathrooms that are located at the corner of the casino.

“you're fucking me in the bathroom? are you serious?”

he pauses, looks back at you but doesn't let go of your hand, “well would you rather me fuck you in front of all the other executives? have them watch as you take my cock right in front of them?”

you're shocked into silence. mouth opening and closing, but no words come out. “I—no. no i wouldn't.” you look away from his unwavering gaze, and suddenly you feel so small compared to him. “could you just hurry up?"

he chuckles, deep and gravely, “impatient, are we?”

you scowl at him, and it just makes his grin even wider.

you enter the empty bathroom, and the second the door closes he turns to you and asks, “there's still time to back out if you don't want this. it was just a silly bet and i'm not pressuring you to do this.”

you feel his hot breath as he traps you between him and the door, he's looking down at you, but you don't think you could handle meeting his eyes.

in a small voice, you tell him, “I'm sure. i-i want this.”

he brings one hand to your face, his other is placed sturdily against the door. his thumb traces over your lips and he pulls the bottom one out, keeping you from biting and playing with it.

“may i?” he almost whispers. you can't bring yourself to say anything, so you give him the green light by nodding in return.

his lips are soft when they meet yours. they move perfectly as if they were always meant to be slotted against them. he sucks and bites your lower lip and your bring your hands to grip the front of his suit—pulling him even closer to you.

his body presses on to yours, and you think you feel him everywhere. he overwhelms your senses—towering over you with his height and his broad shoulders.

his tongue slips into your mouth with no warning, exploring and swiping over yours. his hands are wandering all over you, groping and touching—and you already feel your panties starting to dampen. you can feel him everywhere around you, like he's the only thing that exists in this moment.

“fuck, you don't know how long i've wanted to do this,” he says, squeezing your ass through your dress.

“hanma,” you whisper, you don't know why you're saying his name, but he sure loves it.

you tug at the hair at the base of his nape, and it brings out a deep groan from his throat.

“fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

you sigh in satisfaction when he starts kissing down the column of your neck, marking and leaving dark bruises all around the sensitive skin.

“shuji, please,” you whine, its uncomfortable how your panties are soaked at this point. your thighs rub together to ease the ache that's built in your core.

he buries is face even deeper into your neck once he hears his first name, the hold he has on the back of your thighs almost hurts from how hard he's gripping you.

“tell me what you need, use your words like a big girl.”

you feel hot heat rush up to your face, and you shy away from his gaze, “please just fuck me . .” you say quietly.

“Mm, can't hear you. you're gonna have to speak up, doll.”

he's teasing. you know he's teasing you. and you squirm in his hold, "s-shut up! can you just fuck me already?" you huff out.

his smirk deepens, like it seems that he's got you exactly where he wants you, "only 'cause you asked so nicely, princess,"

his large palms make their way to the bottom of your dress, and he looks up at you wordlessly asking for permission.

he yanks the fabric up over your waist once you nod, and sighs deeply at the sight of your bare legs. he massages your thighs and hands smooth over the skin, “you've been hiding this from me this entire time?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, “you never really payed attention to me whenever i came along to meetings a-and stuff.”

his eyes widen like he's shocked, and pulls away to look at your face, “you fuckin’ serious?”

you pause, and you meet his eyes in shock, “no, i don't know. . . i almost gave up on trying to reach you,”

“c’mere,” he says, leading you to the mirror, bending you slightly over the counter as he stands behind you.

“i would see you all the time, sitting all pretty in those little dresses of yours,” he looks at you through the mirror, moving your hair to the side, “and it would take everything inside me to keep it together.”

he kisses the back of your neck, and his arms move forward to grope your tits through the fabric, “i think i could die a happy man right now.”

you smile shyly at his words, and push your hips backwards so your ass meets the front of his slacks. you rub yourself against him, feeling his hard cock stiffen at the touch.

“shuji, what're you waiting for?”

he drops his head on your shoulder, and you hear the zipper of his slacks. soon enough, his cock is freed from the confines of his pants.

one of his hands come up to rub you through your panties, "already this wet for me?" he runs two long fingers through your wet folds, collecting the slick that continues to drip out of you.

“ah—fuck! feels so good,”

he smirks at you through the mirror, and you shudder when they run over your swollen bud. the bundle of nerves aching in need for stimulation makes you jump when he massages a certain spot.

“fuck, baby, i cant wait any longer,” he groans, holding your hips in place, “need to be inside you, now,”

you do him a favor and reach behind you where his leaking cock is, you wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking him as you angle your hips.

“c-could you—”

the air is suddenly knocked out of your lungs when he pushes inside you with no warning, you gasp as you feel the burning stretch of your walls.

“shit—slow down!”

he buries his face in your neck and starts a grueling pace, wasting no time at all. the force of his hips has you weak in the knees and if he weren't holding you so tight, you think you'd be a puddle on the floor.

“so fuckin’ perfect for me,” he bites your bare shoulder, muffling his groans.

"a-ah, shuji!"

"fuck—ive waited so long for this," he huffs out, hips snapping right back into you at an unforgiving pace, "to fuck you until you were cryin' on my cock" he laughs in your neck, the hot air tickling the hairs on your nape.

he hits a spot that has you seeing stars, your breath caught in your throat, and you try so, so hard to keep quiet, but with the way he's fucking you right now—you bet everyone loitering around near the bathrooms could hear everything.

“fuck—!” you cry out, the tears building in the corners of your eyes.

"look at you," he pants, the sheer layer of sweat glistening on his forehead, "takin' me so well, see?" he thrusts even harder, and it takes everything in you not to scream out loud in pleasure. it's just so much—but it's so fucking good.

your nails dig into his forearm where you're grabbing on, "there's no need—ah, fuck, no need to deny you want my cock, baby"

you feel the pressure tighten in your belly, and it only takes a few more thrusts before you're crying out, cumming on his cock.

“so fuckin’ warm,” he grunts, “gonna fill this pretty pussy up,”

his movements don't stop even when he spills deep inside you with a long groan, filling you all the way to the brim with his warm release.

your body falls limp over the bathroom counter, tired and all fucked-out. you feel like your world is spinning as both of you take this time to catch your breaths, basking in the afterglow.

he chuckles, breathless with a wide grin on his face, “maybe we should play more poker, huh?”

you lift your head to look at him through the mirror, “so there's a next time?” you ask playfully.

he pulls your panties up for you, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress, “don't act like you didn't enjoy this.”

“i don't mind a next time,” you say quietly, standing up and turning around, “i was kinda hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.”

he smiles softly at you and cups your cheek with one large palm, “anything you want, baby.”

feedback and reblogs are appreciated <;3

[toji-girl]

for hire | s. hanma

synopsis: Being a model was harder than you expected, trying to get an agency to hire you seemed to be the main issue that is until you meet the infamous Shuji Hanma.

wc: 2k

tag: dark content + 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + repost from my old blog + your model name is vixen + blow job + consensual picture taking + noncon video recording + I think that's all + reblogs & comments are appreciated + for kinktober '23 | I've posted this before but it's one of my favorites I've ever done so I'm reposting it!

Everything inside you was exhausted, worn down to the bone really, no matter how many modeling gigs you applied for every single one rejected you for one reason or another after you finally got your career up and running only for it to come crashing back down it felt like. 

However, things really never seemed to go the way you thought because as soon as you were about to click the ‘apply here’ on the screen your manager called to deliver more bad news that you knew was about to be said, you almost didn’t answer. 

“Shuji Hanma wants you to model for him! Jewelry of the sort and maybe some lingerie if you’re comfortable with that!” Her voice crackled from her high-pitched squeal, no hi or hello like usual. 

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion, was this a joke? It has to be because there is no way she was serious, the Hanma wanting to photograph you? There has to be some sort of condition or something to this whole thing. 

“It’s not April Fools.” 

She tutted and shook her head clicking the video chat button and leaning back watching your face pop up with a look of uncertainty. “I know that, I’m serious. I guess he saw you in a file.” 

You stared back at her and stood from your couch heading straight to your bedroom unable to wrap your head around it still. “I haven’t been able to get any job for months and now Hanma wants to photograph me?” 

“Yes, how many times do I need to tell you this? I sent you everything over via email and it was signed off by him, not his assistant.” 

If you had to count how many times you’ve read the email you wouldn’t be able to give anyone a correct number, by now you memorized it and were able to recite it when you did your daily tasks. 

Dear, Vixen. 

That’s the name I was given by your manager and after seeing the pictures she sent over I knew I had to have you in front of my camera, everything you need will be delivered to your house Thursday evening. Please show up at my studio the following night at seven p.m. sharp, and a car will be there to pick you up. Wear one of the outfits and sets when you arrive. 

Thursday night you sat on your couch bouncing your leg up and down waiting for the knock to come on your front door, the thought of wearing only jewelry while Shuji took photos of you made your stomach curl into itself, not to mention your nipples tightening against your shirt. 

You’ve seen plenty of pictures of him plastered all around, and he’s very sexy, but you also know he was part of a gang growing up, something he was sure to boast about, and the thrill of being with a bad boy was enough for you to send him an email back stating you’d be there. 

A knock pulled you from your thoughts, quickly you got up and made it to your front door in record time to grab the box from the delivery person with a grin as you scribbled your name and took the package inside, once the door was shut you stared down at feeling warmth flush through you. 

Just as quick as you stood up and you sat back down leaning into the cushions and tearing into it, the thin paper that kept the clothes and jewelry intact you were careful about taking them each out and laying them on your couch wondering if you should call your manager but didn’t want her to ruin the moment so you decided against it. 

“Oh, my.” Your mouth dropped open seeing the diamonds shining under the harsh light of your living room, your fingers stroked them watching them glitter as you moved to the other set, most were earrings, necklaces, and a few bracelets but it mostly seemed to be sets of them. 

You moved from the jewelry to the clothes carefully to unfold them to get a better view. “No way in hell.” You muttered to yourself looking at the crotchless panties paired with a see-through bralette, soon enough more fabric joined the pile and it was a bunch of lacy and silky and frilly outfits, one skimpier than the last until you were wondering what the point of the last outfit was. 

The different colored fabrics along with the jewelry boxes sat on your couch overnight and all day until six pm the night until you were quick to pick the one that didn’t show everything you had to offer, with your trench coat on and shoes you stepped outside looking for the car Shuji sent. 

Shuji was demanding even in his email. You noted he only used please once, and you knew he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted whenever he wanted, your blood fizzled in your veins as the car pulled away from the curb driving into the heart of the city. 

You watched out the window growing excited at the prospect of this launching your career, it could either make or break it so you were down to do whatever Shuji told you to do at this point, and it didn’t help you find him extremely attractive and with his tattoos, you wanted to know if he could punish you. 

Thoughts of his open palm striking your bare ass melted away when the car stopped in front of a highrise building, it looked modern and sleek with dark tinted windows and a bright sign on the side but from here you couldn’t make out whatever it said. 

Soon you were shuffled into a small room by yourself which screamed expensive, everything was bathed in a maroon and gold aesthetic and the couches you were sure cost more than the whole building you lived in, so you opted to walk around the room instead while ooking at the million pictures on the wall until you you heard a door click and heels on the floor. 

“Vixen?” 

You turned to come in direct contact with Shuji, his strong cologne overwhelming you as he peered at you through his glasses sizing you up as you almost swallowed your tongue nodding at him. “Yes, and you’re Shuji Hanma?” 

“The one and only, let’s get started. What are you wearing under the trench coat?” 

He turned on his heel and walked through the double heavy doors guiding you into his studio which was different than his waiting room, the room was modern and sleek with hints of gray and white peaking out from the dark colors. “One of the outfits you sent.” 

“Good girl, now let’s get started, are you wearing any of the necklaces?” 

His use of ‘good girl’ made your cheeks pool with heat as you looked over at the couch he was referring to, you made your way over on slightly wobbly knees and sat down taking your coat off. “I am, yes.” 

Shuji turned around from his desk to look at you with his camera in his hand, his shirt now unbuttoned midway as he listened to you. With long quick strides, he stood in front of you, towering really as he bent at the waist hovering above you. 

You could smell the whiskey on his breath that fanned over your face, he grinned as his fingers touched the jewelry lifting it up off your neck, Shuji was sure to touch you but barely. “I’ve seen your other shoots, and those poor bastards didn’t know how to capture your beauty.” 

“Oh?” You squeaked unsure what else to say, the proximity of him being this close and his smell all you could think about what he looked like under his clothes. He nodded and stood up again to help put you into position. 

He crouched down in front of you snapping a few pictures before another change, this time you were bent over with your ass on full view. “They make these heart-shaped plugs for that cute hole of yours, would you be interested in that?” 

With the choice of underwear he could see everything you had to offer and it made him twitch with wanton desire, did he stalk you a bit before this after seeing your file show up on his desk a few months ago? Maybe. Something about you called to him and he was a greedy bastard who wanted what he did and he always got it. 

You’re so cute and fell into his trap letting him lift your hips up so he could graze his hard-on against you, or when he needed you in a different outfit you let him dress you like his own personal doll. “This is the one, and after I’ll give you payment for your time.” 

Shuji set you on his desk this time, showing off the bracelet you wore, your hand resting on your breasts as he stared at them. “Can I give you something as a thank you?” You asked once he put everything away except for one small video recorder but you didn’t know that. 

“Thank me?” He asked with a chuckle as he sank down on the couch watching you meekly walk over to him, his presence made you want to submit and do whatever he said it was to do, not only did he make you feel like the only girl in the world but the touches left you wanting more. 

You dropped to your knees still clad in his favorite outfit rubbing his thighs with a shy nod. “Yeah, you know for helping me with this? You’re so big and everyone knows you, you helped me a lot.” 

Shuji chuckled darkly as he patted your head like a dog with a smirk. “Then get to it, you were very obedient and listened well.” He watched you unzip his pants before glancing at the camera making sure it was angled to get the whole thing, it wasn’t for anyone else to see but himself. 

He would use the video later to jerk himself off in his bed before calling you to see if you were busy, but for now, he was going to let you blow him or whatever it was you were going to do, you pulled his cock out after taking his belt off. Shuji’s cock matched him, pretty as hell. 

It was on the slender side but still had enough girth to make you feel full and the length to bully your g-spot, your eyes went into the shapes of hearts you were sure as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft giving him a few experimental jerks before lifting yourself up more off the floor to suck on his head. 

Shuji watched you fully now, his eyes trained on your lips wrapped around him and the pretty diamonds glittering as you hollowed your cheeks out letting your spit dribble down making a mess, he groaned when you took him to the back of your throat gagging. He wanted more and fast, so with his hand on your head you let him control everything. 

His studio was filled with wet sucking sounds and you moaning around him like you were getting pleasure from this, your hands cupped his balls making it messy and sloppy, the sloppiest you’ve ever done for any guy in your life, your drool covered your chin and tits now making them shine under the light. 

He was quick to move his hand to cup the back of your head thrusting his hips up further gagging you lewdly, the way you sputtered around him made him grin. “You can handle it, you’re doing so well for me.” 

With his praise you amped up your performance making out with his flushed head and tapping it against your tongue while looking up at him, the shy reserved woman he first met was nothing like the woman you are now sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow. 

His balls tightened when you used your spit to jerk him off while bobbing your head up and down sitting on the balls of your feet to suck him in deeper until you heard him groan deep in his chest. “Such a good little cock sucker, might make you my professional one.” 

Little did you know when you pulled away swallowing it all he got it on video, he leaned in capturing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Need a new job?” 

[smiley-babe]

fuck me, like you hate me

Hanma Shuji x Reader

Nsfw/ MDNI 18+

⚠️ Warnings: slight dubcon, public sex, unprotected sex (creampie), degradation (towards Hanma), aged up characters, Hanma gets a littleeee pussy drunk. [lemme know if I missed anything]

Summary: Hanma finds a new kink of his when meeting you.

An: This was supposed to be a smol drabble buuuut I got carried away ._. @satorhime this for you bby 😘

Hanma isn’t the kind of guy you should just cuss out. His hands are rated E for everyone. But when he instinctively grabbed you after you tripped and almost fell, you gave him the nastiest glare.

All he can do is just grin. He’s never had anyone insult him without fear. You didn’t know what he was and what he was capable of. But he’ll make sure you find out.

He wasn't necessarily stalking you but he would see you more often than not. "You stalking me or something?," you ask him with your hands on your hips, glaring right at him.

He wasn't necessarily stalking you but he would see you more often than not. "You stalking me or something?," you ask him with your hands on your hips, glaring right at him.

He shrugs and grins. "What if I was?"

That ticks you off even more. "Then you're a fucking pervert and a weirdo. Stay away from me!" You shove past him and stomp off. Such a nasty weirdo, you mutter to yourself.

And he really thinks he is a weirdo because every time you hurl an insult to him he feels himself stiffen up, blood rushing in places it shouldn’t.

Hanma doesn’t like anything boring. And you excited him with your mean glare and nasty words. He wants to hear more. He wants it all.

It becomes his mission to absolutely terrorize you every chance he gets. Just to see you shake with anger and scream at him. He feels himself shiver when you call him a dickhead. He bites on his lip when you call him a useless delinquent. You had no idea he was getting off on this. If you knew, you would call him even more sick words.

There was one instance that ended it all. He had you bent over in an alley, your cute little skirt bunched up at your waist. It was dark, the moon nowhere in sight. He finally had to have you. “Call me an asshole again baby. Do it.” He rubs his throbbing head through your soaked folds as you mewl out for him.

You don’t even know how the hell you got into this predicament. One moment you’re screaming at this stupid asshole for almost running you over with his bike, throwing your drink at his back. The next moment you’re falling apart on his fingers. “Fucking- asshole!” You gasp when you feel him slide past the first tight ring of muscles.

“Fuckkk,” he groans as he plunges all the way in, spearing you on his cock. “Go head and insult me sweetheart. They sound so pretty coming from your little mouth.” But it’s hard to speak when his hips start rocking.

Your nails dig into the break wall in front of you. “You’re a- fuckin pervert… oh god!” He feels so good dragging his cock in and out, filling and emptying you every time. It’s so hard to focus like this. You don’t even remember why the hell you were mad at him.

“Uh huh. This pervert is fucking you stupid, isn’t he? This stupid asshole is making you dumb for his cock already.” His lips are near your ear as he thrusts even deeper. Tears prick in your eyes and you moan louder. “Wanna get caught fucking a pervert baby? Might wanna keep it down.”

But he feels you clamp around his dick. What a nasty girl for wanting to be caught fucking the local weirdo pervert. “Shut the fuck up you dickhead- ah!” He goes even harder, fingers digging into the skin on your hips. It makes you even wetter when hearing his little whimpers and moans in your ear. “Such a bitch. Hate you. Hate you so much~,” you cry out.

“Oh yeah? Fuckin’ hate me? That’s why your pussy’s gushin’ round me like that? Cuz you hate me?” All you can do is whine in response. Hanma glances down and sees a ring of cream around the base of his cock. You can feel that familiar feeling. He’s going to make you cum. And he knows because his fingers find your clit and rub sloppy circles over it. “Cum for me baby,” he coos, kissing your neck.

“Fuck- N- no. Don’t wanna cum because of you. You d- don’t deserve it. Stupid asshole stop!” He pounds even deeper and harder, groaning a bit because he’s getting so close from those sweeter-than-sugar insults. You’re just so pretty. And mean. Totally not boring. Hanma loves it.

He wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing tight. “You’re gonna cum for me. Whether you like it or not.” Soon enough you’re trembling and whining as Hanma hits your spot repeatedly. Your eyes cross a bit as you cum around him and from the lack of oxygen.

When he lets go you gasp and moan loudly. He’s become feral, chasing his own high. “C- cum in me please! Fuuuck I hate you~,” you whine out, clawing up the wall even more.

His moans are a little higher as he starts cumming in you. Blunt nails digging into your squishy flesh a little harder. “Holy shit…,” he pants out. When he pulls out, you almost fall over. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. How could you beg this pervert to cum in you? Why the hell did you let him fuck you? When you turn around he’s wearing a shit eating grin. You want to punch it off him. “Next time Imma fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“There won’t be a fucking next time you stupid fuckhead!,” you yell out, fixing your skirt and panties, already feeling his cum trickling out of you.

He raises a brow and keeps smirking. “Oh yeah? How bout right now? Get on your fucking knees.” You look at him like he’s insane. But when he pushes down on your head, you’re obeying his command.

[oh-katsuki]

Where The Panther Killed The Stag (Hanma x Reader)

masterlist | ao3 | series masterlist

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Pairing: Hanma x Reader

Series Content Warnings: THIS SERIES IS A PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR AND INCLUDES THEMES OF: murder, violence, abuse, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, hard kinks, rumination, guilt, depersonalization, dub/noncon, organized crime, mind break, and other similar themes. 

Summary: You're a good student at the top of your university class and the vice president of your student-led club. A shiny toy on the top shelf of your social circle. Hanma likes toys he can break. Slowly but surely, you begin to spiral into a twisted situation that is entirely out of your control, putting your life and the lives of the people around you at stake.

Or, Hanma takes an interest in the University of Tokyo's resident good girl.

Chapter Title: Mice, Men, and Those Above Them

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of violence, threats, slight feelings of helplessness

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I’d like to thank my ADHD for giving me the power to complete this series. I’ll be posting it on a bi-weekly basis on Tuesdays and Saturdays for the next six weeks. For now, please enjoy the first chapter and be sure to heed the content warnings as the series progresses!

You have never made waves. Well, not in the traditional negative sense. You have always been an overachiever, someone who stands out from your peers in the best way. You’ve always got your best foot forward, a star student at the top of your university, recognized yearly for your achievements with the pretty certificate to match. As far as everyone is concerned, you are the absolute cream of the crop. But you never cause trouble. 

In the small town you grew up in outside of Tokyo, Nikko, you’re something of a celebrity. When you come home to visit the quiet streets of your hometown, people recognize you. They stop you and ask how you’ve been, if your studies are going well, before calling you their pride and joy. The mountain city is quaint but beautiful, famous for the shrine built nearby after the 17th century. Nothing really ever changes there and people tend to stick to the same ordinary mold, so when you got accepted into the University of Tokyo and decided to leave that cycle, people talked. They called you exceptional. 

You attend the University of Tokyo on a merit scholarship, are overly involved in school activities, and are a well-known face throughout all of campus. If there is something going on, it’s likely that you’ve been a part of organizing it. That’s just how you are. A good girl with a good streak who wouldn’t dream of stepping out. 

Still, you’re a people pleaser. You’ve known this about yourself since you were young, finding yourself bending to meet the will of others and coast by as a “good kid”. It’s what earned you these grades, glowing recommendations from teachers that earned you a spot at one of the most prestigious universities in Japan. You should be proud and you absolutely are. 

In exchange for the ability to have complete control over your future, you give up any chance of mistakes. One slip up and that beautiful future you’ve crafted comes crumbling down. You can’t afford to let your iron grip on yourself slip. 

So you don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you don’t party, or date, or have sex because none of those things fit into your life narrative. God knows you’ll probably settle down with a man (probably a medical student), work, have kids, and retire to become a housewife who runs their home with charts and lists and bulletin boards. 

You will probably marry someone like Ichiro Hasegawa. Clean cut and grad school bound, he should be sitting across from you in your club board meeting. In your free time on campus, you run a student collective for learning how to network in business. It’s a large club with about 300 active members and a small board of twelve students who ensure that organization activities run smoothly. You are the Vice President, set to take Hasegawa’s place as President next year during your final year of university before graduating. Elections will be held next quarter in March. 

Ichiro has dark hair and wears glasses. He’s a lot like you and honestly, you quite like him, even as his seat remains glaringly empty while the treasurer rambles on about next quarter’s budget. It’s all incredibly boring and though you enjoy the responsibility, his spiel has you tapping your foot against the floor in exasperation. 

“Will we still be hosting the job expo next quarter?” He turns to you, leaning forward. “I know by that time it’ll be a new council rotation, but it’s good to know for budgeting.” 

“Looks like it. We’ve just got to book a venue on campus and contact companies for programming, then we should be set. I can forward you the list of contacts later.” You chime, not needing to check your notes. It’s easy now, to put on that little fake smile and pretend you’re having a good time. You remind yourself that it’s all for your future. All of this will pay off when you have your dream job and the cushy corporate life you’ve always dreamed of. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Hasegawa closes the club room door behind him, adjusting the collar of his sweater with a nervous hand. 

He’s handsome, really handsome. Even now, as he takes a somewhat hurried seat across from you, you find yourself admiring how put-together he looks, the way the light from outside hits his dark hair and high cheekbones at a perfect angle. Yeah, you could definitely marry someone like Hasegawa. 

“A text would have been nice.” The treasurer pipes up. Ever the straight edge. You don’t take the time to admire the irony in that thought. 

Hasegawa gives you a look over his glasses that makes you instinctively straighten, nerves humming through your body as you toss him a shrug. You’re unable to protest the other’s statement, but you feel heat rise to your cheeks nonetheless. Something about him makes you nervous. This delightfully innocent back and forth the two of you have shared for the better half of the year almost makes the stress worth it. 

The meeting continues about as smoothly as any meeting before it had. Hasegawa picks up the slack that you have been unable to pick up and pushes forward until the meeting nears its close, all the while sneaking you pleasant glances across the table. It’s positively middle school, but something about the way he peers at you makes you shiver pleasantly. Maybe he’ll ask you out, not that you have time for dating right now anyway. 

You find yourself slipping into a pleasant daydream, one where you can relax a little bit and let him take you on a date. You might be getting ahead of yourself but hey, what’s the harm in a little fantasizing to pass the time. 

You’re torn from your daydream by the club room door opening. It’s odd, as you weren’t expecting any visitors, but you see the small, quiet boy across from you grow pale, his face falling into something that looks like terror. It isn’t until you turn to the doorway and realize just why. 

In the door frame stands perhaps one of the tallest men you’ve ever seen. He looks to be about twenty-something with jet black hair, save for the streaks of bleach blonde, yellow from a lack of toner. He wears a suit, gray with pinstripes and tailored to the inch. On his face are a pair of silver round-rimmed glasses and behind them sits the coldest pair of eyes you think you’ve ever seen. Just his presence sends a chill down your spine. 

He glances over the room with half-lidded eyes, looking bored despite the fact that he’s just rudely intruded on a meeting, and you find yourself standing from your chair on instinct. 

“Uhm, I’m sorry sir but-” You step up to him, eyes trailing up his figure as his looming presence settles over you. For a moment, he doesn’t look down, eyes staring straight ahead at Suzuki Haruto, the treasurer, whose body is rigid in the chair across the room. Then his gaze sinks down to meet yours and you’re met with stoney gold eyes. You suddenly feel like prey before a predator. “This is a uhm… private meeting.” 

“Is it?” He speaks, a rich baritone voice dripping from his lips, and you can’t detect a single ounce of care. The man looks away from you just as quickly. “Suzuki, you’re late.” 

“Hanma, sir!” The boy stands up, trembling as his eyes dart across the room and then back to the pather standing in front of you. “I know, sir. Money is tight and- and my mother she- we don’t- I’ll have it to you by Monday. Give me until then.” 

Suzuki pleads, hands stiff by his side and his slacks bunched in them. 

“So you’re in a position to beg now?” The man named Hanma replies, pulling his hands from his pocket and inspecting his nails. On the back of his hand, there is a tattoo that reads punishment. You shiver. “You think I wasted my time coming down here to hear you beg?” 

It takes you a moment to register the situation, the tattoos on his hands, the demands for money, the expensive gold and diamond earring hanging from his left ear. This man is dangerous and the alarm bells in your head are firing on all cylinders as you stand before him. Even Hasegawa is stunned into silence. 

“No, sir!” Suzuki shouts, far too loud for the room. 

“So, if I give you until Monday, you’ll have my money? All of it?” Hanma questions, tilting his head to the side. “If you don’t, I’ll take your teeth instead. As if that would cover half of your debt.” 

Hanma’s gaze drifts down to you, straight-backed in front of him. It’s bad enough that he has to take time out of his day to come collect this debt and he should be upset that he’s not getting it. Honestly, he should be taking his teeth out here one by one and making all of you watch while he does. He’s sure that would be fun and in idle passing he imagines which one of you would be sick first. But he’s bored. Hanma is so, unbelievably bored, until he sees the way you tremble when he sets his gaze on you. 

You look so… malleable. Shorter than him, though just about everyone is, and cute as a button. Hanma can’t help but think that you look like you’d be fun to break and he figures that he might just poke some fun at you in his own cruel way. 

“Need something?” He leans forward slightly, lacing his fingers together. 

Your eyes dart to his hands where you get a good look at the tattoos, and you visibly suppress a grimace, heat flooding your body because despite yourself, his fingers look enticing. Whatever energy he has, it’s making your heart race in a way entirely unfamiliar to you. Hanma looks like someone you should be on your knees for. You shake your head slightly, answering him as well as clearing your mind of whatever repulsive thought just pushed its way into your brain. 

“Uh no-” You pause. “Uh, sir.” 

Hanma stands at his full height again. “Good answer.” Not that he means it. 

He watches the way you look at him, wide-eyed. You look fun, like a new toy for him to break. Probably pretty when you’re in pain, when you’re so scared that you swear you’ve got ice in your veins. If Hanma is capable of showing interest in anything, it would be in you right now. 

Your toes are curled in your shoes, the air deathly still. If Hanma is thinking anything, you can’t tell what it is. You pray he doesn’t find your name, that he doesn’t remember your face and you acknowledge that you’re flattering yourself thinking someone like this would take an interest in you at all. You watch as Hanma tilts his head, eyes still half-lidded and bored, watching you. For your reactions, you think. Under his gaze, you feel incredibly small. 

You think he might speak again to you but instead, he looks back to Suzuki, pointing a finger at him. “Monday.” 

Before he leaves, he gives a look to the room, one that turns your limbs to lead. Despite his boredom, despite the seemingly permanent deadpan he wears, you feel yourself grow heavy within his orbit. Hanma says nothing, but you know what it’s meant to do. You know the message he means to ask and the consequences for the wrong answer. What did you see? Nothing. Nothing at all. 

And then he tells you with anything but words, one simple twitch of his eyes as they narrow slightly, that it doesn’t matter anyway. You’d be dead before you even reached the station. 

—

Haesgawa ends the meeting almost immediately after Hanma leaves. Suzuki looks panicked, eyes wide as he pleads you all to forget what you saw. He tells you all that it isn’t a big deal, his own issue involving student debt. Some part of you feels bad for him, but when he begs for none of you to go to the police, you find that his words strike a chord deep in your chest. It’s incredible that Hanma could make someone feel like this. It’s incredible, but his presence felt so huge that you hadn’t noticed the two people waiting in the hall for him, two people who had gone under your nose because you were so focused on him. What is it like to have that much power?

“Are you okay?” Hasegawa catches up to you on your walk back to your apartment, His eyebrows pulled together in genuine worry. 

“Huh? Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You turn, giving him a genuinely warm smile. You’re flattered he even came to ask. 

Hasegawa frowns, taking in your appearance. “I’ve never seen you like that.” 

You think back to Hanma, the way his gaze settled on you so cooly and despite your fear, something claws in your chest. Part of you wants him to look at you again, settle that cold stare on your features. You shiver at the thought of him, the defined edges of his face, sharp eyes and features, criminally beautiful, cold, and collected. 

“Oh…” You pause, licking your lips slightly and scuffing your heel against the floor. “He was just scary. That’s all.” 

You’re lying because some part of you knows that wasn’t it. Even if he is bad news, Hanma wasn’t just scary, he was terrifying, panther-like in manner and gaze. 

Hasegawa looks at you for a moment, nodding. “Do you think we should…” 

“No.” Your response is immediate and laced with panic. “No, I think that might only cause more problems for Suzuki. He asked us not to.” 

When you meet his gaze, it’s full of regret, an understanding between the both of you that speaking to anyone else about it would only make the problem worse. Hasegawa nods, fair features growing a bit solemn before he mutters a quick goodbye, suddenly uncomfortable that he’d even brought it up. 

You mull over the events of the meeting in your head for the rest of the day, distracted while you study as you imagine Hanma’s hands, long and broad, ghosting across the lapel of his suit. The way he inspected his nails as if he was thinking about how Suzuki’s blood might look under them. 

It’s not as if you don’t feel bad. You do, unbelievably so. There is a part of you that is weeping in this helpless position, not used to the lack of power you feel, but drawn to it all the same. 

Later that evening, between studying for class and bed, your fingers ghost across the keys of the keyboard, typing in the last name you’d learned. Hanma. Even typing it out feels sacrilegious, like you’re setting yourself up for some cosmic joke. 

It doesn’t take long to find information on him, hoards of it. Ironically, his job description is just “entrepreneur” on nearly every website you can find. But you’re not too concerned with it, rather, you’re concerned with the news reports on him. Scores of articles written about Hanma Shuji (which you learn is his full name) and the Tokyo-based gang Toman. 

It’s here, in your ideal bedroom, seated at your ideal desk as part of your ideal life that you learn about the less than ideal part of Tokyo that is Toman. A violent gang, more akin to white-collar criminals, run on a massive scale. Drugs, murder, informants, arrests, mass shootings, just about everything you see in those cheesy gang movies that run on late-night television. But this is real. This is real and you’ve just made yourself a witness to dangerous criminal activity. You and your perfect, squeaky clean record has just seen something that could get you killed. 

You scroll for what feels like hours before stopping at a photo of Hanma in a club, seated behind a red velvet rope. Under his arms are two beautiful young women in matching dresses and they’re fawning over him, eyes wide as he stares ahead at something off-camera, entirely unbothered. It’s that same familiar stare he gave you and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together. 

Your mind wanders back to Hanma and his tattoos, the very literal meaning behind sin and punishment and you’re certain that there is nothing you can do for your friend. Getting involved in this, going to the authorities, you’re sure that they’d hurt him for it. That his family or yours would pay the price for ratting them out. You might be a goody-two-shoes, but you have enough common sense to know your place in this particular food chain. 

You don’t sleep much that night, unable to get the memory of Hanma’s eyes out of your head. But when you do dream, you dream of a deer and a panther.

[fueledbysano]

𝐓𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒.

♱ ft: Kakucho/Izana, Shuji Hanma, Ran/Rindou Haitani

♱ content/warnings: angst, cheating, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, second lead trope.

♱ a/n: so this has been in my wips since September. I have more characters in draft but I decided to post what I have finished bc I really miss putting out content here since I've been busy. enjoy 🤲

𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎 — “I loved you first"

He was the man who had always been there for and with you; dating way back to your childhood.

Right from the moment Kakucho met you, he knew he had to cherish this girl as much as he can, and as long as he can, and he could never stop, not even for a second.

Every dumb banter you ever had, every Christmas mornings at five, every spontaneous Saturday afternoon, every speed bump, every pang of boredom and anxiety you ever experienced together—he carried that lesson with him.

and he carried that lesson with him when you married Izana.

As you bind the last of your vows to the silver-haired man before you, it was then that Kakucho realized that it didn't matter how much longer he's loved you; when fate put Izana in your life— in a marriage of convenience.

And most importantly, he carried that lesson with him when you started playing the martyr wife.

It was too good to be true— to have a man of status, attractive looks, and fascinating aura as your husband and all to yourself.

So it didn't shock you in the least when you discovered lipstick stains on his shirt that weren't yours, with a faint scent of a cheap perfume you don't bother spending your money on.

“He’ll change.” “Maybe, he isn’t used to marriage yet.” — were just one of the many things you told yourself into thinking that there is still hope for your marriage.

Kakucho finds it heartbreaking to see you act the part, and though he's never confronted you directly about it, he makes every effort to support you—something your own husband couldn't even do. and to witness you fall just as deeply in love with someone else as he did with you.

Because sometimes love means taking a step back. If you care about somebody, you should want them to be happy even if you wind up being left out.

One evening, when Izana had another not-so-secret meeting with his mistress, you stayed in while sipping wine and reading passages from a book of melancholy poetry. The wine had started to fuel the voices in your head and the lines began to hit a little too hard that you didn't realize the tears streaming from your eyes.

It was routine at this point; to cry yourself to sleep, wishing that the only man you wanted felt the same way.

However, you also failed to recognize the man who genuinely expressed his intents and feelings to you; who happened to pay you a visit at this particular moment.

Kakucho also noticed the fresh tears you've been shedding while you were asleep on the couch in the living room with the book held loosely in your hand.

Even if you haven't spoken yet, he already knew what's been upsetting you. So with a bitter sigh, he took the book from your hand before returning it to it's rightful spot on the bookshelf, and then sprawling a blanket over your body, fixing your frame into a more comfortable position before cleaning up the dishes you'd left on the table.

It really didn't matter that he'd loved you for years, because to be in love with someone half as in love with you is a cruel curse, and the fact that you too get to feel that way makes Kakucho's heart hurt even more.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 — “Choose me.”

He was the one who said that he didn’t care about the ring on your finger; that this was merely an affair by sinful adulterers.

Your coincidental meeting at a bar led to a one-night stand which caused more than a little bit of friction when you came in as the new Toman executive and his colleague the very next day.

He then received the second dose of shock when he found out that you were, in fact, married, as your husband paid you a visit at the headquarters one day in a bid to resolve your tumultuous marriage

At first, you didn't comprehend the tinge of concern in your heart as you glanced over your husband's shoulder to meet the eyes of your secret lover. Will it be over for good?

Once your husband has gone off to your home, waiting for your return, Hanma finds himself locked inside your office, as if your man hadn’t just been in it minutes ago. “There’s my favorite adulterous whore.” He smirked, making himself comfortable on your seat as you were noticeably leaning against the tall windows in distress.

“This is just… great.” You sighed heavily, reaching to your drawer for a smoke. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Before you could even reach the handle, Hanma had already pulled you onto his lap in a firm grip. With sorry eyes, you smooth his chest and tugged on his collar softly, “I’m… married.”

With one push of his knees, your body fell onto his, letting his sinful lips lap on the cleavage exposed by your low neckline dress, “This— is wrong.” you gasped out, clutching onto his suit.

“Then tell me to stop, and I will.” He insists, but you were already too deep into his touch, and instead, your hands finds themselves discarding the buttons of his suit which landed you getting bent over on your own desk, at the end of the day, mutually claiming that it’s just sex.

But what you both didn't realize at that time is when your regular affair grew into taking on missions together, having dinner at unreasonable hours, and attending lavish events with each other.

Hanma is still clueless of what your marriage looked like, and he refuses to know. He was the other man, but he didn't feel like one. How could he when you constantly allowed yourself to be drawn into his antics and gave him your undivided attention?

That's why he started to worry when he noticed the crack in the glass— you have been staying home longer than usual, wearing your wedding band more frequently, then eventually having your husband fetch you at work.

And he finally gets the chance, in his car after a successful mission, your phone rang and displayed your husband's name on it, but instead of picking right up, you sent him a glance, a rather inquisitive one. “Okay, here it goes—” and with his words, the car brakes all at once.

“Your choice, it’s simple— him, or me. And I’m sure that he’s great, but, [ Y / N ], I love you.” And that was then you realized that it had already become more than a casual affair.

At the end of the day, Hanma only wishes that he is the first star you'll be gazing at when the night falls.

𝐑𝐀𝐍 — “What does he have that I don't?”

He was used to working towards everything he’s ever had. However, he’s envious of how Rindou easily had you under his touch. It’s a pity— how worthless all his efforts turned out when you fell right into his little brothers’ arms. Maybe, it was a “youngest sibling” thing; to be able to get anything they want at will.

He was never selfish with Rindou… But couldn't he be even just for once— with you?

“Hi, I’m glad you could be here…” Your embrace was the perfect Christmas present to him as he welcomed you into their home. This Christmas Eve, your gifts to each other is the precious time, the thought you put into it as you spend it together. So other than the wrapped chocolates and gifts beneath the tree, your Christmas didn't come from a store... and, you know what? It really did mean so much for Ran.

He appreciates your company, hell, even just your presence— to be with him and Rindou on aimlessly planned days, to the ones that matter most. And even if you hadn’t realized it yet, he wished you could give him the same attention you do with Rindou.

“Where’s Rin?” You question as he serves you a hot cup of cocoa, and he could feel his heart aching for a second. “He got some ice. He’ll be back soon.” He flashed a smile and offered you his company on the couch.

He wanted to be jealous of Rindou, but at the end of the day, he knows that the choice is all yours to make, and that harboring resentment toward his brother is the last thing he would do in this world.

He was savoring the remaining time he had to himself with you, listening intently to every word you beautifully spoke and cracking up at your jokes. But when Rindou comes back, he notices how your eyes shine.

That glimmer of admiration— something he looks for but never finds until the younger brother is around.

Being drunk switches off the best parts of your brain and leaves the fool to run your life, to run your mouth. But for Ran, it silenced the longing in his heart that you aren’t his to love.

It takes a lot of condensed pain to produce each drunk, and so to look out there and see the storm clouds is enough to break both soul and heart.

And as he returns after the fourth refill, he finds you and Rindou passed out on each other on the couch, with his face snuggled up to yours that flashed a faint smile. So with a bittersweet smile, he pulls the neighboring blanket over your bodies, and tuck your hair away.

Ran thought his heart would break seeing her love someone who is not him; although it did for a moment, he slowly felt full of life upon seeing the two most important people in his life finally get together.

[manjibunny]

A/N: This is super rushed and not well written AT ALL but the horny took over + I finally feel unhinged enough to share my nsfw thoughts 😪 mdni!

Thinking about men in love with your boobs. No matter the size, the shape, he's so in love with your tits.

Every day, you wake up to him, burying his face into your chest, reveling in the warmth your body provides and inhaling your sweet scent, not wanting to wake up anytime soon.

This man is the reason you don't walk around the house with a bra on. He needs to have access to your tits whenever he wants and best believe he's using them as a stressball, but in the most gentle way possible. He'd tease your nipples over your top before undressing you.

On a stressful day, your chest aids him to find comfort. As your heartbeat lulls him to sleep and your hand rakes between his locks, he's found peace. On good days, your chest is a treat to him. He'd rip off your shirt and start kissing your chest, leaving love bites on your mounds. He'd circle his tongue around your nipples before sucking on them, groaning at the feeling of your hardening buds. He would grab and squeeze them as he marks up your sensitive skin, God, he needs no heaven if he has you to play with, for you are the only paradise he'd ever need. When he found out people can orgasm from having their nipples stimulated he was hellbent on trying this with you. He'd have you begging him to touch your aching pussy, but he'd refuse. He wants you to cum from him greedily sucking on your tits, gently biting and pinching your sensitive buds. And he's only satisfied once he'd successfully ripped out an orgasm of you, but he's greedy. He'll make you cum as many times as it takes to still his thirst for you.

But nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length between your tits. He loves watching your pretty, swollen lips wrapped around his leaking tip while you're rubbing his dick with your tits. You just look so beautiful on your knees between his legs. So submissive. Other times, he'd have you lay down on your shared bed as he climbes on top of you. You'd straddle his legs and he'd position his hard cock between your tits. As you hold your boobs in your hands and push them up, engulfing his cock between your boobs. He'd thrust in and out, enjoying the feeling of your tits around his cock. The way you look so pretty beneath him, the way you peer at him so lovingly yet lustfully tips him over the edge. He'd cum on your chest, claiming you, marking you as his.

Draken, Hanma, Shinichiro, Gojo, Geto, Choso, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Mammon, Asmodeus + your faves

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 04: lonely star

preview: ". . .He knows a part of him is right, what he said wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, he could’ve said it in a different way—whenever he remembers the dejected expression across your features, the attempt at covering up the hurt behind your eyes by pulling away from him as though he was fire—his heart sits heavy.

And then the two of you didn’t talk again. He didn’t bother to try to text you, and you would never text him first."

content warning: cursing, hanma owns a strip club, oral s.ex, unprotected s.ex, choking, hair pulling, no aftercare.

word count: 7k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

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Tokyo was a bustling city. People escape from the mundane using any source of entertainment allowed. From going shopping to partying, the city provides numerous remedies for any challenging moment a person might experience. There, in the depths and labyrinth streets of Tokyo and its lively nightlife, exists a world that only unravels to those who dare seek it. Hidden between tall buildings and colorful signs, paradise on earth stands proudly.

A black car pulls up in the alleyway, parking right outside the back entrance of a disheveled looking building. The door opens and cigarette hits the dirty floor. A foot crashes the bud, adorned in squeaky clean shoes that do not fit the vibe of the creepy alleyway. Golden Glow reads in bright neon light right above the back door. The man’s slender fingers push the wooden door open, stepping into a vibrating world of sensuality and allure where reality and fantasy blur for hours on end at night.

The air is thick with perfume and anticipation, a line of rich men of all backgrounds sitting on the deep red plush seating facing the focal point of the strip club. Murmurs of who will be performing next fill the room and the tall man makes his way towards the VIP table.

“You’re late.” Kisaki doesn’t pull his eyes away from the curtains waiting to unravel tonight’s star, more or less used to this kind of behavior from his right hand.

“I had to take care of something.” Announces Hanma as he pulls his seat back and grabs a cigarette. The relationship he had with smoking was more of a toxic affair—a continuous tag of war between depending on the small bud and desiring a whiff of the substance when things get a bit too hectic. With each inhale, he feels a momentary release from existing. He’s never enjoyed it, not fully at least. Existing meant he had to abide by rules, which he never did. Breakups were nasty, women lashing out insults towards the man they called a God only a few nights prior—they should’ve known better, is what he tells them every time. He never claimed to be a good person, just a good—no, an amazing fuck.

Hanma’s dick serves as a distraction from his violent nature, he momentarily hypnotizes those women with each sharp and angled thrust from his hips. Deliciously dragging out moans, whines and profanities, proclaims of how godly he feels and how they’ve never had better. He is good at using and not giving much in return, he shows it through prioritizing his orgasm, only speaking when the dirty talk tips him over the edge. Shuji doesn’t budge as a pillow is thrown his way, ‘asshole!’ sounds from behind the door he’s just closed and he swears he could feels his fingers twitch. He’ll spare the cleaning staff of the hotel a blood bath tonight.

“You took too long,” Nahoya adds his two cents as usual, and the tall man wonders what the orange haired even provides for him to remain alive and attending special nights like these.

“It’s your club, you’re supposed to get here first.” Kisaki presses and the lights dim as the curtains open, revealing tonight’s a woman clad in a gorgeous set of deep red lingerie. She commands attention with the way her body carries her across the stage, each step is like a soft whisper, beckoning more people to look at her—admire her. She embraces the power she holds over the spectators, feeling a surge of dopamine push her to do better.

“You’re not my fucking dad. I’ll get here when I want to.” His fingers tremble as he drags the cigarette away from his lips, resting his wrist on the table as his whole hand shakes. You would think that years of smoking would get the man used to the motion, familiarized with the aftermath of each whiff—somehow, it doesn’t. Through furrowed eyebrows and behind framed glasses, Kisaki notes the unusual behavior from the man. He is far too moody, perhaps more than usual. Hanma took pleasure into killing, coming back from missions was almost as euphoric as an orgasm after being denied for so long. As far as his report went, the mission was done and Toman’s men were able to discard of the dead body rather easily. So what was wrong?

The younger man doesn’t say anything, he waits until the show wraps up and for people’s attention to drift elsewhere to speak to the taller man. As Hanma, not so quietly, slips away from the table and onto one of the VIP rooms upstairs, Kisaki soon joins him.

“So, wanna talk about what’s up your ass lately?”

“What do you mean?” Hanma’s voice is devoid of any emotion, but he still looks unimpressed as he casts half a glare towards Kisaki.

“You know what I mean. Something’s up your ass, you need to fucking pull it out and do your job. I don’t need a moody bitch as my first in command.”

Hanma’s heard worse over the years, he knows what it meant to be involved with someone as nasty and as disgusting as Kisaki. However, he was having a bad week and Kisaki came to him at the wrong moment.

“This moody bitch will blow holes into your brain and make it seem like it was a pathetic attempt to kill yourself. Don’t fuck with me.” The tension rises between the two men, silence engulfs the room that’s hidden to the rest of the audience. They’ve had to fight before, the scars littering Hanma’s arms a reminder of Kisaki’s knife slashing the man’s skin. The shorter man’s own scarred hands a grim testament to what Shuji was capable of doing. The two of them don’t speak another word.

Kisaki sits on one of the soft chairs facing Hanma, placing his gun on the tiny glass table. The other man does the same, and it feels like a silent agreement that neither of them was going to harm the other.

“I went to her place.” There’s no question about who he is referring to. Kisaki knows all too well who you are. He’s seen you from afar when you were all young, unknowingly grasping the heart of a delinquent who’s never known what the feelings he had for you even meant. His face twitches as he remembers the conversation he had with the man a couple of weeks ago.

“You found her?”

“She’s back in Shinjuku.” Kisaki doesn’t miss the way Chifuyu’s body tenses up when the two men mention your name. He’s managed to keep you away from this mess for years now, his plan was coming crashing down from a single interaction with Hanma Shuji. Like domino pieces lined up, the tattooed man blows on them and watches them tumble just for fun. He was after you just for fun, Chifuyu fears.

“And? What do you wanna do now?” Kisaki’s busy rummaging through papers in his drawers, he doesn’t lift his gaze as he continues. “Do you want the men to take her away or?”

Sensing his silence, Tetta raises his eyes and notices the deadly look on Hanma’s face. Had it not been Kisaki, a man who’s known him for years and was desensitized to his glares, he would’ve most likely fallen from his chair. His eyes became storm clouds, hiding their usual golden color and crackling with the threat of lightning. Hanma’s never cast him a look similar to this before, usually blessed with an emotionless face.

“No. I don’t want any of them near her.”

Kisaki leans back against his seat. He’s seen Hanma get riled up over things like missions going wrong, people pissing him off, testing his patience—this was a different kind of negative emotion he was displaying. Dare Kisaki say that it was fun to witness? Perhaps even unexpected from the tall man? But he doesn’t say a thing, only gives a curt nod and proceeds to finish the task at hand.

“Why is that?” he asks, curious to know what lead the man to end up in your place.

He glances towards his fingers which had long ago healed, he could still feel your fingertips against his skin, warm breath fanning over his wrist as you tended to his wounds with so much care, as though you were stitching a tiny tear in a delicate fabric.

“She cleaned me up.” Kisaki has to blink a couple of times, but he notices how Shuji keeps his gaze fixated on his fingers. He chews on his bottom lip out of habit. The band aid wrapped around them is unfamiliar, the man’s never taken care of himself this way—oddly enough, Kisaki feels that Hanma had a strange attachment to the adhesive strip keeping his healed cuts safe. It has been days since that incident, he most definitely did not need to cover his hands that way.

“Cleaned you up?” Kisaki pours himself and the other man a glass of whisky, pushing one of the glasses towards Hanma.

“Saw my hands and thought that I was in pain.” The taller man mumbles as he brings the glass of whisky up to his swollen lips. Downing the liquid like rapid fire, he slams the glass on the table and leans in his chair, head thrown back as he grunts.

“I think I fucked up.” Hanma admits, his hand covering his eyes. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your touch since that night. So soft, offering him what he has deprived himself of for years—you were so gentle with his hands, treating him as though he was made of glass. Your beautiful eyes witnessed the harm he is capable of causing to others, yet your soul set that aside to make sure he was okay.

Only for him to mess it up.

He knows a part of him is right, what he said wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, he could’ve said it in a different way—whenever he remembers the dejected expression across your features, the attempt at covering up the hurt behind your eyes by pulling away from him as though he was fire—his heart sits heavy.

And then the two of you didn’t talk again. He didn’t bother to try to text you, and you would never text him first.

He was growing impatient with each passing second. He wasn’t an expert at solving this kind of problems, let alone when it involved him in the equation. However, one thing was for certain; his insatiable need to feel you again made every moment apart from you feel like he’s been cursed with damnation.

--

October comes to an end, you start to accept the atmosphere of loneliness that settles like a heavy cloak over the landscape. The days grow shorter and the nights longer, there are Halloween decorations displayed along the entrance of every apartment door. It’s adorable. Pumpkins, bats, and your most favorite—cats are all over the fronts of every store. You look up and find paper lanterns with spooky designs, themed displays in shopping malls, and themed merchandise in stores. You find yourself yearning for the celebration to linger a bit longer.

As the days turn into weeks, Hanma’s absence becomes palpable. You cannot ignore that the lack of his pestering feels strange and foreign, when you had only started speaking to the man again for a couple of days only. Like a shadow retreating to darkness, it feels like he never existed in your life. You’re back to living life the same way that you did before he suddenly reappeared in your life—you don’t know why you’re disappointed. After witnessing murder with your two eyes, you thought that Shuji would scare you. He should. Such an unpredictable man with a history of violence that remains unknown to you should instill a deep fear in you. Then why do you find yourself craving the presence of a man whose ruthlessness carves a path of destruction? A man whose words made it feel like walking through a field of thorns?

You pay your feelings no mind as you drown yourself in chores, making sure there was no speck of dust left on each furniture of your apartment. A shower soothes your nerves afterwards, the motion of scrubbing the dirt off of your skin a subliminal attempt at getting Hanma’s aura off of you. You make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, top it off with some marshmallows as you settle on the comfortable couch with a soft yet heavy blanket draped over your shoulders. The movie you picked for the night is nowhere near comforting, but you brush it off for the sake of Halloween vibes.

However, those feelings melt away as soon as ears pick up on the sound of footsteps near your door. It was pretty late for anyone to be visiting you, let alone on Halloween night. You set your hot chocolate down and walk towards the door in quiet footsteps, praying that you don’t make a noise by accidentally breathing too hard.

Behind the door, Hanma stands looking almost apologetic. His head hangs low not out of shame, but because he sees your shadow from under the door. He holds back a chuckle.

 “It’s me.”

When he hears no reply, he pushes himself off of the wall and walks away from the door. An uncomfortable feeling gnawed at his chest, but he refuses to acknowledge any of it as his hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He lets one dangle between his lips as he reaches for the lighter. Until he hears the creaking sound echoing in the hallway.

Glancing back, he sees that your door was no longer closed, but he couldn’t see you either. His feet slowly drag him towards your doorstep once again and the moment he attempts to peek inside, your face pops from behind the door. The both of you pull away at the same time, you almost close the door in his face but his foot stops it before you could close it shut.

“I had to hide my cat. He likes to escape when I open the door.” You announce with a tone that appears to be protective, very used to your fur companion’s habits. Hanma nods, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. It wasn’t until you break eye contact that he realizes he’s been staring at you without uttering a single word.

“Are you alone?” He can see inside your apartment, he towers over you with so much ease. You shift your weight from one foot to another, eyes avoiding his as you stare back at the TV screen and the obviously empty living room.

“Yeah,” you pause, glancing back towards him. “Why?”

“I was thinking you could—“ he wiggles his fingers. “See if they’re okay.” You stare down at the band aids wrapped sloppily around the skin and have to fight back the urge to smile. “I tried to do it myself but I don’t think I did as much of a good job as you did,” which was true and very apparent.

You take a moment to consider your options, chewing on your bottom lip as you fixate your stare on his hands. It was relatively late at night, you were wearing a light sleep dress—this could either go right or horribly wrong. For now, you don’t mind taking the risk.

Pushing the door wide, you see the way his eyes glimmer as they scan your entire body from head to toe. He doesn’t hide that he is checking you out, even as he steps inside your place, he chooses to stare at you instead of scanning his surroundings like last time. You refuse to crumble under his gaze nor change what you were wearing, you close the door and make your way to the kitchen without uttering a single word.

Hanma suddenly thinks of something and he bites back the urge to smirk as he makes his way towards the kitchen as well. This is the farthest he’s been in your place, your kitchen is rather small compared to the one he has in his apartment, but he appreciates how full it is. From the fruit sitting on the counter, the coffee machine, the magazines, the small board where you have what looks like a to-do list written there—it feels homey. It feels like you.

You glance behind you, noticing the pair of shoes in your kitchen and don’t bother to look back, but you feel a tad bit annoyed.

“No shoes in my house,” no response. Surely, he wasn’t going to ignore you when you were about to take care of him.

“I said—“ your stomach flutters and your breath catches when you feel something land on your shoulder, hot breath fanning the tiny bit of skin exposed from your sleep dress falling to the side. You hold your breath for what feels like an eternity, body frozen in place.

“No shoes in the house?” his deep voice sends chills down your spine, his hands resting against the fridge instead of gripping your hips.

His fingers twitch when the smell of sweet vanilla and coconut hits his nostrils, your scent is intoxicating and he struggles with himself. Every instinct urges him to break free and surrender to the intoxicating allure, yet the tether of restraint holds Hanma firmly and keeps his impulse in check. He doesn’t want to upset you again, but he thoroughly enjoys seeing you like this. So flustered.

As he pulls away from you, you turn to face him and use the first aid kit to put space between the two of you, like a shield. If you were trying to appear intimidating with the scowl on your face, Hanma’s smirk tells you that you were failing miserably.

“What the hell is your problem?” you don’t even sound mad, just completely and utterly embarrassed. You were fighting a war between your brain and your needs—the warmth of his body lingered on your skin for far too long, and although his breath reeked of cigarette and something minty, it made you feel dizzy.

“You’re red in the face, doll.” He purrs, making his way towards the couch. This time, you were certainly not going to get down to your knees and treat his cuts. Not after the stunt he pulled.

“Shut up.” You groan, sitting on the couch.

“You’re like, totally vermillion in the face—“

“I will kill you!”

He snorts and comfortably settles on the couch right beside you. One glance at his hands and you can tell that it really isn’t that serious. You bring his hands close to your face, inspecting them as soon as you take off the adhesive strips. There are a few faint scars, but they’re all healed and he only needs to apply ointment to them for extra measure. You put them back in his lap for a few seconds, leaning forward to grab the ointment you placed on the small coffee table in front of the both of you. You don’t realize that you had both gone awfully quiet after that moment, for a few seconds you almost forget what his touch felt like until you feel a pair of eyes burning holes in your face.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” you blurt out, never meeting his eyes. You want to appear unbothered by all of this, by his intense way of giving you attention. But god knows how loudly your heart was thumping in your chest.

“Would you let me do it?” oh my god.

You don’t respond, you want to focus on the task at hand and step away from him as quickly as you can. The longer you felt him near you, the harder it was to contain yourself from matching his energy, his flirtatious comments. You were supposed to be mad at him, why did you cave into his request of having his minor cuts treated once again when the man ruined your mood the other night?

“No, I wouldn’t.” You say firmly, although your touch against his skin is very soft. Hanma can tell that you’re fighting an inner battle, you’re not good at hiding it. Your furrowed eyebrows make his own skin burn, his thumb craves to smoothen the skin of your forehead, get you to relax that jaw and melt against him the same way he does when the tip of your finger grazes his skin. He snaps out of his thoughts when he sees that you were already putting everything back in the white box, golden eyes staring between your hands and face.

“We’re done?”

“Yeah, you should be fine now.” You get up and head back to the kitchen, leaving Hanma alone with his thoughts once again. He notices that the movie you were watching was paused only 20 minutes in and the hot chocolate sitting on your coffee table was starting to go cold. It seems as though your night was just getting started and him showing up put it on hold.

However, Hanma doesn’t want to leave just yet. He can’t put his finger on why he feels the need to stay, perhaps the idea of going back into his car, driving to his empty place made him feel a little bit sick to his stomach. It was an unspoken rule for Hanma to never visit his place unless he really needed something. Clothes, money—he always packed those in a bag and left it in his car. His place—located in the heart of the city's shadows, is nestled within a towering skyscraper, its imposing structure casting long, foreboding shadows over the streets below. Whenever Shuji inserts the key card, he is greeted by an atmosphere steeped in mystery and menace. Dark, rich tones dominate the décor. Nothing about the 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms apartment made it feel homey. So Hanma avoided it like the plague.

He thinks he can find an excuse to stay a little longer with you. Should he take you out? He can’t. You were far too comfortable in your sleep dress to change into something else. The movie seemed interesting, perhaps a few sweet words would convince you to let him stay a little longer before he has to depart—

“Have you had dinner yet?” You break his chain of thoughts so easily, Hanma is a little taken aback at first. Glancing back towards you, he sees you holding two white ceramic plates in one hand. The pot, which he assumed had warm, homemade food in it, is sitting on the stove with a ladle inside. Were you offering him a meal?

“Not yet,”

“I figured you skip meals,” you say with a frown. You forget the grudge you’re supposed to hold against him, it nestles itself somewhere in the back of your head the moment you see Hanma lost in his thoughts. You glance at his face—not as full as it was when the two of you were kids. He’s never had chubby cheeks, but you could tell when the man had a good meal and when he hadn’t eaten properly in a while. You naturally find yourself reheating the food you made for yourself, grateful you decided to cook more than a singular portion.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” he clarifies, as though he needs you to understand where he is coming from but then his lips are sealed shut. He’s never had to explain himself to anyone, it’s a little foreign for him to be doing it with you.

“You forget?” you guess, your back facing him as you serve him a good portion of the katsu curry you’ve made. You make sure to give him a bigger portion than yours, assuming that the man has probably skipped lunch as well.

“Mhm.” With the way he engulfed you in his arms previously, you shouldn’t trust him so blindly and have your back facing him again. But you don’t seem to care as much, maybe even wishing he does it again. Instead, you hear a chair creak from behind you and see that the man has made himself comfortable in your kitchen. You hand him his food before sitting across from him, then the two of you dig into the food.

Hanma hasn’t tasted something this good in—14 years. Ever since his mother stopped cooking him a decent meal. You made a dish that’s such a delightful harmony of textures and flavors, engulfing him with a warm velvety blanket he would never throw over his own shoulders. He glances towards you and you’re focused on your food—at least, you look like you’re trying to focus. He sees that some habits never really left you. You ate fast, way too fast, never truly savored your food. You still had a habit of bringing the food close to your nose and inhaling the scent (he never understood why you did it). He can remember the last time you tried to smell something he was about to eat—a sandwich he had bought that had a weird mixture of ingredients, you leaned down to inhale its scent and Shuji swears he hasn’t laughed as hard ever since. The face you made was of pure disgust, pushing the bread back into his hands and away from you. You’ve always had such an expressive face—either that, or Shuji stares at you a bit too much.

The present situation mirrors your date at the ramen shop in sad ways. It is obvious that the two of you have grown apart, no longer needing to be so close to one another at any given moment. The person who sits across of Shuji Hanma is someone he recognizes but doesn’t fully know—he recognizes certain habits that even time couldn’t tear away from you. But your touch, your body and soul feel different. On them lingers this love and care you still held for the man along the years, but never to a full extent. It seemed as though even whilst with him, you were thinking of something else—somebody else. He could be mistaken and you’re just trying to push him away, but Hanma’s gut feeling never betrayed him.

His stomach twists in knots when he sees you reach for the jewelry adorning your neck—a necklace with a golden heart pendent. You hold onto it with so much care, cautious not to break the fragile accessory.

He is reading too much into it.

He pulls his eyes away from you once he’s done with his curry, polite enough to put his plate in the sink and wash it off for you. You stare at his large back in silence, contemplating your next words.

“Tonight’s Halloween.”

Hanma turns to look at you, his raised eyebrow an indication that he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Yeah? You got a costume you want to show me?” he teases, bracing himself against your kitchen counter. You have to pull your eyes away from his hands and arms, ignoring the way your pussy throbs at how large he looks in your tiny kitchen. You realize what he says and make an offended face, standing up with your own plate and utensils and walking towards the sink.

“Over my dead body.” You nudge his side with your elbow, he moves away from the sink but still stands next to you.

“Okay then?” he questions as you turn on the water.

“You could stay and watch the movie.” You offer without looking at him. You were scared that your face would betray you, you almost slipped and said ‘with me’ and that would give him the upper hand, another thing to tease you about.

“Like a date night?” you halt your movements, quickly turning off the faucet and turning to stare at him. Your breath hitches when you see his face so close to yours. He isn’t trying to intimidate you, the playful glint in his eyes give away his true intentions. However, you can’t deny that having him so close to you was starting to be challenging for your self-control.

“I… I don’t know.” your voice is barely above a whisper. You try to build a wall between the two of you, put some distance, but it’s useless. Hanma stares at you with golden orbs that mimic lanterns lit up in the night, evoking a sense of nostalgia that felt so strange to you—

Up until now, Hanma was a mere teenage crush you had parted ways with on less-than-great terms. There wasn’t a single time during those twelve years where your heart yearned for the man, remembered the way he would make your stomach leap and be like a light at the end of the tunnel—why let such silly feelings resurface so unexpectedly? You could blame it on your celibacy, not having been out on a proper date for a couple of months now—but even as you look at it, you haven’t been this interested in anyone for a while.

What was Hanma Shuji doing to you? What was so different about him? Could it be that the man’s touch messed you up?

He steps closer to you, tall figure looming over your smaller frame in an attempt at caging you between him and the sink. He’s got a million things to say and yet, his lips remain frozen. Yearning to feel the warmth of your own softer, plushier ones. As you confess shakily, although your hands far too comfortable holding onto his shirt for it to sound convincing, he chuckles and you smell his minty breath.

Everything about him looks…inviting. You cannot look away from his neck, or his jaw or his lips. You’re lost in a trance, on this terrifying journey where you wish to be able to hear something other than your own heartbeat. Deafening, muting the world around you for a split second as Hanma leans down and captures your lips in a fiery kiss.

It’s different than the one shared at the ramen shop—there was no waiting, no longing for your touch for twelve long years. You were at hand reach, so close to him like a dream. Hanma needed you like the moon needs the stars, promised himself to tattoo the feeling of your lips against his for years to come—they fit perfectly against his, like a mold made specifically for his body. It’s surreal. The initial kiss is short, gently easing you into the sea of his passionate and intense loving, because when his lips reattach to yours, you’re being pinned to the wall.

His hands grab your face, they hold you in place like he’s been craving to breathe again for an eternity. You can smell him, feel him on you everywhere even with layers of clothes stuck to your skin, set ablaze like a furnace. His electrifying touch leave goosebumps in their wake, trailing from your cheek down to the back of your neck. There, his hand grips your nape before his fingers dig into your scalp.

When you gasp at his touch, Hanma’s heart leaps. Like a ticking bomb, it was only a matter of time before he unleashed a side of him he wasn’t sure he wanted to offer so early on. You’re such a tease, he thinks. Why were you giving him those eyes as he pulls away from the kiss? Why are you biting your already swollen lips if you didn’t want him to bury himself so deep inside you?

“Ask me to leave.” He says, voice firm as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shuji—“ you go for his face but he grabs your wrist mid-air.

“Ask me to leave, doll.”

“No.”

“This is your chance,” he leans down, close to your face and brushes his lips against yours. “—won’t stop if I start.”

“If I touch this,” his hand gropes your boob over your dress. “If I kiss this,” he yanks your head back, brushing his lips against your throat. “I promise you. I won’t be able to stop.”

At this point, you’re more than fed up with his teasing and crash your lips against his. You push yourself off the wall as get on your tiptoes to reach for his lips, and he decides to end your struggle and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You kiss him harder, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he marches towards your room.

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” his words are muffled against the skin of your neck as he kisses there. You throw your head back, allowing him more room to work with and you feel your back hitting the familiar soft mattress. The bed was made, but the blankets are quickly discarded to the floor as Hanma’s mess of limbs loom over your figure and plant hungry kisses on the skin that’s showing.

Thanks to your choice in outfit, Hanma finds it easy to strip you naked. Skilled fingers undo your bra to reveal your breasts in full display, but his hands are busy groping at your mound. You gasp at how rough he is handling your body, but the wet patch forming in your underwear indicated just how much you’ve been craving this kind of attention. His lips attach to your hardened nipple, whilst his left hand twists and fiddles with the other one. It feels like he is attempting to nurse on you with how hard he sucks, golden eyes staring deeply at your fucked out face. Messy hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and your eyes barely able to stay open as he gives your erogenous zones the right amount of attention.

“Mmm you’re so soft,” he teases the nipple with his teeth and chuckles when he feels you try to squeeze your thighs together from under him.

“Shuji,” you breathe out, as soft as a silken thread.

Pulling away from your breasts, he admires the hickeys he’s painted across your skin—branding you as his on your very first night together. Sure, he’s done this before but never this passionately. He wants those bruises to never go away, glued to your skin like a tattoo and a constant reminder that this is what being his meant. He attaches his lips to your skin again, this time on your torso—he travels down to your stomach, passes your belly button before kissing right above your panties. He notices how drenched they are and hisses.

“Fuck, you’re fucking dripping.” He says as he moves them to the side and his mouth falls open, drool threatening to spill. “All for me, doll?” his thumb teases at your engorged clit and you whimper.

“Don’t tease, fuck—!”

You react almost immediately as he attaches his lips to your clit. Your legs try to close around his head but he is having none of it as he grips your thighs and forces them open, continuing his assault on your pussy.

“Shit, shit!” you gasp as he lays his tongue flat against the bud before moving his head from side to side while watching intently as you writhed and twitched under his touch. There was no way you could escape his mouth, tongue moving down to lap at your folds while his fingers pinched your clit. Hanma craves to exist between your thighs for the rest of eternity, a place so warm and so wet, offering him the best of both worlds.

He pushes two fingers past your folds, grinning from ear to ear when he sees the way your body tenses up. Curling them upwards, the combination of his rough finger fucking and his mouth’s continuous assault on your clit makes you cum hard. You’re writhing, crying desperately for the man’s head to leave your thighs. Soft “I can’t—I can’t!” resonate through the room, but soon die down when he spares your pussy and instead, litters soft kisses over the inner of your thighs.

“You did so well, took me like a champ,” it seems as though the only time Hanma shows any emotion beside boredom, is when he has you under his mercy like this. It’s when he makes you blush, flustered, angry or in this case, cum so hard that you have to take a moment to remember your name—that’s when he feels alive, as though life is worth living again.

Your heart thumps loudly when you hear him fumble with his belt. A sound that makes your ears perk up, eager with anticipation. You push yourself up with your elbows, licking your lips when you see the obvious bulge in his pants. It makes your mouth water, and your hand reaches down to palm him through his pants. A rough hand grabs your wrist, you look up at the man hovering over you with lustful eyes. You stare at him through your lashes, neither of you uttering a single word—he is telling you not to touch, not right now, and you are craving his body like earth needs the sun.

You squeeze the bulge, lips parting when he closes his eyes and leans down towards you. You hear a soft groan emitting from the back of his throat, and it’s your sign to do it again and even go further. Hanma puts a halt to your attempt with a rough kiss against your lips, pushing you back against the soft mattress until you are whining against his lips.

“Oh what is it?” he says, almost mocking your sounds. “Do you need something?”

“Shuji—“ you are way too embarrassed by how he is speaking to you, staring to the side. But he doesn’t seem to mind your bashfulness, rather indulging it by kissing your cheek and then your pulse. The kiss on the cheek is a stark contrast to how roughly he finger fucked you, and when he finally releases his cock and you see the way it jumps—your stomach twists in knots.

That thing will reach spots your own fingers haven’t been able to.

You panic when he starts to tease your folds, hands pushing at his shoulders to remind him to use protection. You did not want to have a kid running around anytime soon.

“I’m clean,” he says and a part of you can’t help but not fully trust him. He sees the expression on your face and chuckles, leaning down to kiss your neck as you melt back on the mattress.

“I get tested frequently.”

“I’m not on the pill—“

“Don’t worry, I can’t get you pregnant.”

You don’t have time to question what that could possibly mean, lips forming an ‘O’. You are forced to lay back and take it as Hanma’s cock keeps going deeper and deeper—you feel full of him. A sob erupts from your chest as you feel him pull his hips back and then—thrust.

He repeats the motion a few times, piercing eyes scanning your face like a hawk. He wants to memorize your body like the back of his hand, wants to tattoo the feeling of your warm and soft cunt at the forefront of his mind—you are so soft and pliable, making sweet noises that he easily swallows by kissing you deeply.

“Fuck you’re so sweet,”

You moan into his mouth when he angles his hips a certain way, Hanma grins victoriously against your lips and uses his hands to grab the back of your knees. Pushing them to your chest, he enjoys the sight of you taking his cock like a sweet girl. You’re so cock hungry, practically begging him to fuck you silly with those glossy eyes staring deeply into his.

“Yeah? You like that?” he purrs, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. He removes one of his hands from the back of your knee and wraps it around your neck in a possessive grip, watching as the early signs of your orgasm start to creep in on you like a shadow in the dusk.

“Such a nasty fucking girl—“ filth continues to spew out of his mouth at the same rate as your loud whines. Your eyes can barely stay open as he quickens his pace, jaw going slack when his thumb brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He shamelessly leans back to stare at your pussy as he continues to fuck it, watching as his cock slides in and out of you. The room is filled with wet noises, the sound of skin slapping against each other reaching Hanma’s ears as he takes in the sight before him.

You were so pliant beneath him, no longer putting up walls in his presence. He loved it. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock keeps nudging at that one spot that makes you dizzy. Your hand wraps around his wrist as he continues to pin you to the mattress by the neck, you stare up at him with glossy eyes, thighs twitching and your back arching off as you finally cum.

Hanma swears he has never seen something as magical. You feel like a magnetic force, pulling him closer with an irresistible allure that ignites a fire in his stomach and sets his senses ablaze. It tips him over the edge, he empties himself inside you with a loud groan as he lets go of your neck and holds onto your boobs as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

Now what? It’s not like he’s never had sex before, he was in fact very good at it—but usually, he gets up and leaves the moment he empties his balls inside. Now, he worries that you would get the wrong idea, that you’d think he’s using you—does he want to use you?

Isn’t this what he wanted all along? To fuck you senseless the moment he saw you run towards the metro station in your tight skirt. His mind was reeling with all the possibilities of what could be underneath the fabric—perhaps a matching set, or if you wanted to be a tease, nothing.

He starts to wonder what his intentions were with you—he wanted to be your friend without getting too close to you. He couldn’t afford having you near him at all times, that came with a cost he wasn’t sure you could afford. In your arms, he didn’t feel as though he needed to prove anything to you—not his existence, nor his power. And for a man who lives his life in pure chaos, a house that didn’t have a mess isn’t one where he belongs.

His hands pull away from your body, his eyes scanning your face only to find that you were fast asleep. He could wake you up and tell you to go pee, but like a puppet, his own fears pulled on the strings as they desired—his feet carry him towards your door in speed record. Glancing one last time at the pot you left outside, he closes the door.

Even as he drives back to his place, Hanma can’t brush off the burning sensation sitting heavy on his chest.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[nu11lar]

𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤ link

when you were supposed to be riding him and take control but he prevents you from doing so <33

ugh that's so hot, like imagine him pinning your hands onto your back while he pounds into you mercilessly. your boobs stuffed in his face as one of his hands pull your hair back only for you to let out choked sobs and moans.

the sound of skin clapping against skin intensifying as it mingles with the music playing in the background (and also your loud moans). he just loves to torment you sometimes, not allowing you to stable yourself onto him and not keeping composure on yourself as he fucks you dumb on his cock. his hips stutter and jerk each time you tighten around his throbbing cock, receiving a guttural groan from him. it only turns him more on if you move your hips in sync with his, trying to take the advantage to ride him but his thrusts are too rough for you to even ride him properly <3.

he will keep you in this sort of position for a while until your body fully collapses on top of him.

"h-hnn! i'm supposed to make you cum your brains out!"

"hah- too bad so sad, gonna fuck ya dumb even if you're on top of me."

he just loves to use you as a fleshlight huh?

🪷 ㅡ GOJO SATORU (again), toji fushiguro, GETO SUGURU, rindou haitani, ran haitani, HANMA SHUJI, SANZU HARUCHIYO, bonten! mikey "manjiro sano", ken "draken" ryuuguji (is that how u spell it?), WAKASA IMAUSHI, miguel o' hara, SIMON "GHOST" RILEY, connie springer, EREN YEAGER, levi ackerman, UZUI TENGEN, dazai osamu, CHUUYA NAKAHARA + any of your faves !

[demiesworld]

thinking about men overstimulating themselves

☆ — contents: minors dni, nsfw, smut, overstimulation (both m and f), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talking, dumbification, just the usual filth

☆ — notes: reader is a female and uses she/her pronouns.

like you have both been going at it for hours already. you're in the bedroom he has your legs spread eagle, and your arms are anchored at your sides from him holding you down. his hips, god his strokes are so deep, and fast when they slap right against your skin. this man is abusing your pussy and is trying to make it go over it's limit. though it's not like he doesn't care he's just so fucked out, so drunk and so determined that he doesn't realize it. you look up at him, seeing his face flushed and jaw slack, his pretty eyes are barely even visible as there's nothing but white; he looks so hot. the upper rows of his teeth biting down on his bottom lip at the same time his hips are brutally snapping forward. the claps of his heavy balls accompanied by low grunts is an erotic vision that has your gummy walls tightening on his dick. then that tight knot that you've been chasing after for a while finally pops and your pussy is squirting all over his lower abdomen. spurts of your sweet juice wets his skin and makes a puddle on the bedsheets. "hmm! mm! fuuuck baby!" he grunts and groans out when you cum all over him. you're panting after you're easing down, and you're expecting for him to stop. he doesn't. instead he rocks his hips against yours slowly and he bites back a moan when your walls squeeze around him. "yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah, fuuuck," he lets go of your hands and cup your sweaty face in his hands. you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist and let him tenderly grind his dick into your core. you arch your back up from the bed with your toes curling behind his back. your hand flies to the back of his head as you pull him in for a heated kiss. he's whimpering onto your lips, "i'm sorry baby, i can't- ha- i can't- hng- fuc-fucking stop." "it's ok-okay! don't stop, please!" "don't stop? my baby says don't stop?" you're nodding your head and whimper when he slides his cock out of your pussy. he turns you over on your side, then gets in between your thighs, straddling your bottom leg with your top leg laying over on one of his thighs. he holds onto the base of his length and slathers his tip with your wet juices. you toss your head back, a sensual moan pushes past your lips. "put it in daddy- oooh!" he's sliding his dick back into you and angling his hips so he could give you short and quick strokes. you chant his name like a prayer, clutching tightly onto his right shoulder as he pounds into your pussy from above. your back arches from the bed while you release out a squeak. you look into his eyes just as you cum again from him hitting your sweet spot. he slows down and gently grinds his hips into you as you ride out your orgasm this time. his hand gripping onto the flesh of your thigh and stroking the skin. he breathed, "so gooood, hmm, can't get e-fucking-nough!" he lifts your leg up and lets it hang over his shoulder. "fuck, oh shit, shit, what the fuck." he whispers in a ragged tone. his head looks down at where you're connected and the ring of creamy white that's on his shaft, and your puffy clit has him holding his breath. "so hot, oh god baby," he startles you by roughly jackhammering. your bodily mixtures of cum created a wet smacking sound from him thrusting. he tosses his head back and gasps dramatically as he feels his body tensing up and quickens his thrusts if possible. he's blabbering, "fuck, fuck, shit, yes, yes, just l-like t-thAT!" with the final thrust he slams into you hard and leans his weight onto your body. your pussy feels like it's stretched to its limit when he lays above you and shoots his hot seed deep into your womb. he's letting out soft hisses, low grunts, and sweet whimpers as he gingerly fucks his cum into your seeping cunt. "ah, ah, fuck th-that... tha-that felt go-good... how did you feel babe-baby?" "good... but i feel so sore..." "hehe sorry baby."

(jjk) GOJO, CHOSO, geto, (kny) AIZETSU, karaku, haganezuka, DOUMA, akaza (tokyo rev) ran, rindou, KAZUTORA, HANMA, IZANA, baji, SANZU, any of your favs!

[sinfulpanda16]

He Loves Loving You

Before you, his sex life were mainly hookups that always involved her facing away. He did not care at all about eye contact or passion it was just a way to help himself relieve stress.

But then he met you and now all he wants is to make you feel good and loved. He likes having you in the missionary position where he can look at your beautiful features and see how good he can make you feel. Soft little kisses here and there, sometimes your foreheads would touch, you had a way of making his soft self come out. Thats not to mean he's lost touch with his rough persona, sometimes he fucks you in the most heinous positions and at rough speeds, but there's love that's what changed. There's always love in your intimate encounters.

And you always feel so good. Fuck you drive him nuts. He doesn't know what the hell he did to deserve this but with you its like heaven on earth. He loves loving you.

Nanami Kento, Gojo Saturo, Toji Fushiguro, Dabi, Bakugou Katsuki, Eren Yeager, Tooru Oikawa, Kuroo Tetsuro, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Shouei Barou, Shuji Hanma, Mikey, Baji Keisuke, Tetta Kisaki, Frederick Arthur

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.

➺ INCLUDES: wakasa imaushi, haruchiyo sanzu, hanma shuji, shinichiro sano, ran haitani (all of legal age, timeskip or bonten) x fem!reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | this post contains explicit porn links!! you may need to have a twitter account or change your privacy settings to be able to see them. The women on the videos are white-skinned + please do not interact if you are under 18.

➺ NOTE | tokrev version !! again, the links will probably disappear after a little while but i'll do my best to replace them or find similar ones when that happens!

➟ WAKASA

Wakasa knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows it. The look on your face along with those sweet, pathetic little sounds you make as he pounds into you tells him everything he needs to know. He's only been fucking you for a couple minutes and you're already moaning, babbling and begging him to go harder, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

↳ LINK ↲ [broken :(]

➟ SANZU

Sanzu could spend hours playing with your pussy before even thinking of touching you with his cock. He’ll have your back pressed flush against his chest, fingers rubbing your clit in fast, frantic circles, his hard cock poking your lower back as he watches you squirm and whimper for more.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ HANMA

Hanma fucking loves your tits. It doesn't matter what size they are, he'll have his hands and mouth on them every time you ride him, sucking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it while his free hand gives equal attention to the other breast, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his index finger and thumb.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ SHINICHIRO

Shinichiro loves giving more than receiving, and he’s not afraid of letting things get messy. He’ll greedily lap up your pussy while he fingers you, his index, middle and ring fingers buried deep in your cunt as his cum leaks out in thick loads, trickling down his hand as he pumps it out of you.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ RAN

Ran has fucked you on every flat surface in every room of your shared house, but his favorite place to fuck is the bathroom. He’ll have you laid on the counter, one leg lifted and propped against the sink while he fucks you from behind, your moans echoing off the thin, definitely not soundproof walls. (Bonus point if you're in front of a mirror)

↳ LINK ↲