request: can i request a hanma x reader where hanma defends the readers honor? don’t really have a plot for this, and id like it as a drabble, but whatever u see fits!
a/n/cw: thank you for requesting! i love to see hanma be protective over reader so this got a little (a lot) longer than a drabble LMAO. please enjoy! im quite proud of this sniff cw: reader gets uncomfortable with violence - reader's feelings get invalidated by a member of valhalla, it's implied hanma beats him tf up, descriptions of injury, violence, and blood - spoilers to valhalla arc!
cheers erupted loudly in the hollowed room that was filled with old, half-assed operating arcade machines. whistles rang out from the scattered men that huddled closely around the phenomenon occuring in the middle of the dirtied floor: former toman member and captain of the first division, baji keisuke atop his vice, viciously beating him to a bloodly pulp.
chifuyu matsuno—you had heard hanma mention the name earlier, the boy with blonde locks and teal eyes. however, from the beating his face was getting, it would be hard to recognize him at this point. his left eye had already swelled in on itself, while the right blossomed in darker shades of purple and red underneath baji's fist. his previously neat hair, now tousled and messed around from the impact of hits. his nose was unquestionably broken, and from the numerous cuts that scarred his face, stitches would be needed.
a spurt of blood spills from his mouth, and you jolt, tightening your hold on hanma's hand. currently, you were seated on his lap on his makeshift 'throne', your body close and nuzzled into his'. you flick your eyes away from the terrible sight in front of you, and hanma's eyes leave the scene to study you. worry washed over his expression. he licks his lips, and grabs your attention with a soft touch against your wrist.
“... you okay, baby?” hanma questions, large gold eyes glimmering with a solemn gaze. he knew that seeing such violent acts on an almost day-to-day basis was a lot for someone to handle—especially for someone who wasn’t accustomed to such a life.
this was a prominent reason as to why hanma never failed to ask for your consent; to completely confirm whether or not you would like to be present during such situations. your comfortability and safety was his number one concern. if that wasn’t fulfilled—then, everyone be damned.
though you look at him and nod once, and even try to smile. but hanma knows better; “if you’re not feeling well, i can take you outside. i’ll even stop this whole thing, yeah?” he comforts, pecking a kiss on your temple.
your eyes close at the feeling and sound of his voice and body so tight against your’s. you clutch his hand tighter and push your head into the crook of his neck in attempt to silence the sounds of loud yells and impacts of fist on skin. you hear chifuyu whimper loudly out of pain, and your façade breaks: a small tear runs down your cheek without notice.
hanma immediately perks up at the sight, eyes wide and alert, and thumbs reaching up to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks. you murmur quiet ''s okay''s and 'don't worry about me, shu'', but he shushes you consolingly, removing his valhalla jacket to wrap around your curled up figure—and hiding your wandering eyes from baji, chifuyu, and everyone else around. there was no need for you, or them, to see one another. not in this moment, while you were frightened and upset. all of hanma's attention now, was on you.
—until a boy from his left, decided it was a fun idea to stick his nose into you two's business. a loud laugh from beneath the make-shift stage of the arcade, and hanma's eyes shoot down to the guy who was staring at you; presumably, this entire time. hanma's eyebrow lifts at him, almost daring the boy to elaborate just what that laugh was about. you try to crane your head behind your shoulder, to see the cause of hanma's demeanour change, but he didn't allow it; a protective arm wraps around your torso and squeezes your side.
the boy poses his hands defensively at his leader's continued glare. "woah there boss, what's with the harsh look?" he chuckles, but hanma doesn't find it amusing. "i'm just saying, if your baby"—he spews the petname mockingly—"can't even handle a small beating like this.. then maybe you should find someone new."
oh? hanma almost laughs at that, in total fucking disbelief at this guy's audacity. 'he's got some steel balls, huh?' hanma's lips quirk into a open-mouth smirk, sharp canines peering through ever so slightly. his head tilts, then he tauntingly responds: "you wanna repeat that? ♡"
the guy clears his throat, a small jitter now notable in his movements. yet still, he stands his ground: "i just think it's nothing to cry over, talk about being a literal baby." a couple surrounding guys giggle over the comeback, while others stare at the guy with complete incredulity.
although you're not facing them, you can still hear all the comments being made about you. it was as if they all decided to just disgard you as a fucking human being with feelings and emotions. like an object placed on their leader's lap for show. you breathe deeply, as the tears in your eyes well up once more.
a vein in hanma's forehead twitches. 'his fucking loss.'
before you can even comprehend it, you're being placed onto the chair, no longer situated on hanma's thigh. above you, hanma's stands tall—his looming figure higher than anyone else in the room.
the laughter drags on for a bit, the boy seeming to enjoy the attention from his teammates, until the loud thud of a plastic cart falls onto the floor. the contents inside spill out, and some break into dangerous shards of glass.
hanma retracts his foot slowly, and begins to pace himself down the stairs. his eyes lock with the boy, who's face was gradually draining of colour. the teammates who previously laughed with him, scurried out of hanma's way to make room as he towered through the crowd.
"you," he pointed straight at the guy, his voice serious and low. a couple more steps, and he was now directly in front of him. a moment passes, and the boy finds himself nervously gulping at his actions—and for what's to come. a devilish smile decorates hanma's face, a dark and cool dim accentuating all his edges and shadows. "let's play, yeah? ♡"
before the boy could even think to defend or dodge, a swift fist flies straight into his vision, and a loud crack erupts at the point of contact: his nose.
the sheer force of the hit causes the guy to lose his balance and fall hard on his back. one of his hands shoot up to hold his profusely bleeding nose and the other stretches out towards hanma. rapid profanities spill from his mouth, as his eyes widen in utter fear and shock. "—jesus, fuck—what the actual hell man?!" he cries out, crawling away pathetically in hanma's eyes. "it was a fucking joke! shit-ow!.. y-you broke it.. i think you broke my fucking nose!"
hanma crouches down to his level, head tilting menacingly as he scans the brutal mess of the guy's face. "you needed the fix anyways," he decides, and loudly cackles to himself.
hanma's cold eyes narrow, and a dark feeling overwhelms those witnessing this. "don't speak to me or my partner like that ever again." he leans in, angling his head next to the boy's ear and whispers sharply: "or it's the hospital i'll be sending 'ya to.. kay?"
the boy nods quickly, his breath shallow as he stutters meaningless apologies. he's still bleeding, but hanma couldn't care less. he nods once, opting to wipe his bloody knuckles on the boy's jacket, before standing up and returning back to where he sat you down.
he stretches his wrists and shoulders, groaning at the stupid interruption. "are 'ya alright, baby?" he asks the moment he makes it back to you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. he squats down, his large body effectively blocking everything and everyone from your sight once more. "i took care of the asshole, he won't be saying jack shit no more."
you nod, a small smile—a genuine smile—appears on your face. you thank him, pressing your lips against his for a few moments, and pulling away only for him to chase your mouth for another. you giggle into the kiss, making hanma grin ear to ear.
hanma pulls away for air, quietly mumbling to you: "i've got you.. always, okay?"
taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @kazuhoya@gwynsapphire@sscarchiyo@reiners-milkbiddies@smileyswifeyy (send me an ask or dm to be added!)
𖤐 warnings: Hanma is slimy at the beginning, drinking, reader is intoxicated but has wanted this for a hot minute, da/ddy dom Draken, nipple play, pantie sniffing, oral (f! and m! receiving), face fucking, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, one clit smack, implied squirting, Draken calls hanma a slut once, pet names like princess, little love, baby, etc., hanma is very much a switch
𖤐 authors notes: Listen we’re expanding on that little drabble because it’s left too many thots stacking up in my brain. The ending feels a little rushed if I'm being honest but that's okay, I plan on expanding this even further, making it into a series even cause well, I've become obsessed with the dynamic. This is the first night y'all hook up. Also, this is for @sinnerofthewalls the more the merrier collab! Thanks for letting me join! This was quickly edited just by me, apologies for any errors. Reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated
Truly believe that you were dating Draken first, but the more Hanma continued these antics, the more he teased and poked and prodded you couldn’t even help but develop some sort of crush, that’s what you’d call it for now, on the male. He was truly relentless, never gave up on his attempts to fluster you even when Draken would beat the ever-living shit out of him. If anything it only made him want you more, but not just you.
Because Draken’s attention made his dick just as hard.
Things started to solidify one night at a club….
You were on the dance floor, Hina’s hand held in one while your sex on the beach was held in the other. The two of you had been dancing for what seemed like hours but you had no intention of stopping, not until the club lights turned on. Draken was seated at a table close to the dance floor, him and his boys laughing about who handled their alcohol the worst (it was currently between Takemichi and Mikey). Every so often his eyes would travel over to you, keeping an eye on his pretty girl, of course.
But the conversation at the table got heated, the boys taking up his attention just as you did a twirl on the dance floor. Had you been sober enough you would have found your way back to Hina but instead you stumbled right into a male chest, the impact making you giggle.
“Sorry, sorry–”
“Sweetheart, been looking for ya all evening~ ♡"
You didn’t even need to look up to know it was him, amber eyes piercing into you as you felt your face heat up. The blaring of the bass drowned out your little yelp as Hanma pulled you in closer, his hands resting dangerously low on the small of your back. Your palms were flat on his chest, and in your right mind, you would have pushed him away as you normally did.
But instead, you let him sway you to the beat of the song, eyes downcast to the floor as he brought his lips dangerously close to your ear. Goosebumps formed along the back of your neck as he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe.
“Let’s go fuck in the bathroom, hm~? Think Draken will wanna watch?”
Before you could even think of how to respond to such a bold sentence Hanma was ripped away from you, being replaced with your fuming boyfriend. Hanma’s laugh echoed in your head as Draken shoved him, fist ready to land against his cheek had the bouncer not stepped in.
“I look away for one god damn minute.” The growl in Draken’s voice has your thighs clenching under the tight dress you wear, and it seems to have an effect on Hanma too as he bites his lip, giving the bouncer a punch that sends the poor man flying. “Draken! C’mon, when are ya gunna cave and let me fuck your girl!”
“I’m gunna fuck you up, psycho–”
“Oh please, be my guest~”
More security was on them before any fists could really be thrown, and although both males could have taken them on, Draken didn’t want to give Hanma the satisfaction. So with a roll of his eyes, he snatched up your hand, dragging you outside of the club and out into the brisk evening.
“You alright princess?” Draken muttered, quickly draping his sweater over your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You were still beyond flustered, Hanma’s sly remarks playing in your head on repeat as you looked up at your boyfriend with doe eyes, which he assumed was just the alcohol in your system.
“Mhm… m’fine Ken.”
Moments later both of your eyes were brought back to the exit of the club, where Hanma was forcefully being pushed out. His knuckles were swollen, eyes lit up in the way they usually were when he was in the middle of a fight. “Bunch of princesses~” He spat back to the security guard that actually wrestled him out the door, laughing even harder when they shut the door in his face. He didn’t waste a moment before he was lighting a cigarette, the stick dangling from his lips when he caught your gaze.
“Baby~”
“Absolutely not.” Draken cut him off, brows furrowed to the point of wrinkles showing up on his forehead. “Fuck off, psycho”
“Cmon Kenny! Throw that punch you were gunna throw in the club, It gets your pretty little thing all excited watching us fight.”
How did he know that?
“Keep my girl’s name outta your mouth.” There was that snarl again, and you could have sworn steam was pooling from his ears as he wedged you behind him. The reaction had Hanma cooing, shamelessly blowing his smoke right into Draken’s face.
“Fine, fine~! Then she can just keep my cock in hers ♡" Had you not stepped between them, you knew Hanma’s ass would have been on the floor. But instead, Draken kept his eyes narrowed, fists clenched tightly at his sides when he saw you standing between them like a dear in headlights.
“Move baby, I’ve had enough of this sick fuck.”
“N-No.” That was the first time you had actually spoken up about all this, the first time you hadn’t let Draken do all the talking for you. Both males had their brows raised, Draken’s in shock, Hanma’s in amusement.
“No?” They both spoke it at the same time, making your heartbeat even faster up against your ribcage. Never once did you think you’d be here, stuck between your boyfriend and this menace of a man that made your knees weak.
And yet, here you were.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, ready to speak before Hanma was resting his chin on your shoulder. Smoke still puffed from his lips as he hummed, keeping his eyes locked on Draken and the way his jaw clenched up tightly. “What is it, pretty girl~? Finally gunna give me a chance huh? Sick of this big doofus–”
“Fucking watch it.”
“No!” You spoke again, voice a little more confident this time as you took a step away, the smell of Hanma’s earthy cologne and cigarette smoke making you dizzier than you already felt. You weren’t sure how to voice your thoughts, not with their eyes boring into you like this or with the alcohol flooding through your system. So, when it finally bubbled out of you, you were whining, lips pressed out in a pout.
“I just wanna fuck you both! Clearly, we’re all attracted to each other, lets just–”
“What the fuck”
“I’m down.”
Again the boys spoke at the same time but with completely different answers. The conflicting views made you pout more, arms crossing over your chest as Hanma burst out into a fit of giggles that made Draken’s eye twitch.
“As if I’d ever let this psycho in our bed, princess. He fucks with you to get under my skin.”
“Is it working? Cause I really wouldn’t mind being under you, Kenny~♡” Hanma was all but purring. And although Draken barked out line after line of crude comments back, you could see the subtle blush that started to rise on his pale skin.
You took matters back into your own hands, pressing up against Draken’s side. “Daddy…” You murmured up at him, giving him a look you knew he’d never say no to. He even slid his hand to rest on the swell of your ass, despite the way Hanma was babbling about “Shoulda known she’d call you daddy! With a cute little face like that!”
“Don’t gimme that face.” Draken was trying to be stern, trying to ignore how you pressed up against him a little closer, whined so pretty up at him through pouting lips. “We are not doing this, he literally harasses you.”
“What are you scared of, Kenny? Scared your pretty princess is gunna leave ya once she has a taste of my cock.”
“I’m gunna knock the daylights outta you, freak.” But another whine from you had Draken stilling, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Please Daddy… I think it’ll be fun…” Your gaze slowly drifted from Draken’s to Hanma’s and when he sent a wink your way it made that familiar heat rush through, biting down on your lip as you looked up to your boyfriend again. “Besides… don’t you wanna teach him a lesson?”
That made Draken cock a brow, eyes drifting to Hanma who was already lighting a second cigarette. “Yea, C’mon Kenny, you’re the real stern type, teach me a lesson or two.” Hanma licked at his lips when Draken’s eyes narrowed, an unamused sigh leaving his lips.
“Alright, fine. The moment I don’t like what I see, I’m shutting it down.”
“Yay~” You simply responded, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek by getting on your tiptoes. Hanma copied the action, even emphasizing it with a little ‘yay’ of his own that got him a shove from Draken in return.
—---
As soon as the door to your and Draken’s apartment opened up things got eerily quiet, which was odd, especially for Hanma who never seemed to shut up. You made yourself comfortable on the couch, kicking off your heels and letting them settle somewhere on the floor as you watched Draken eye Hanma up, who was currently eyeing up the apartment.
The silence only made Draken all the more frustrated, questioning himself as to why he ever agreed to something like this. Hanma’s little hums only made things worse, making Draken smooth a palm over his brow.
“Nice place ya got…”
“Enough with the pleasantries. You wanna have my girl? She’s right there, go on.” Hanma was a little taken back by Draken’s barked demand but composed himself quickly with a little smirk. It was the look that you were giving him over the couch that finally made him move.
Wide-eyed, curious, excited even as your legs kicked back and forth the closer Hanma got to you. When he got close enough he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, pleased with how you leaned into his palm.
“No rules?” Hanma’s question was directed at Draken, but he kept his eyes on you, letting his thumb trail over your cheekbone towards your bottom lip.
“I already said, as soon as I see something I don’t like, I’m shutting it down.” Draken’s words were calm despite the implications they had, making himself comfortable on the coffee table right in front of the couch just so he had a good view of everything going on. He could already feel himself tensing when you took Hanma’s thumb between your lips, gave it a few sucks just as you were taught to do.
Both males could feel their cocks twitch from it.
Hanma didn’t wanna waste another minute of precious time, so he reluctantly pulled his thumb free from your lips, gripping your jaw instead to pull you into a kiss. You whined into it softly, sitting up on your knees as you gripped the back of the couch, opened up your mouth to let Hanma’s tongue explore every inch of you. Draken rolled his eyes at just how sloppy the embrace was…
But he couldn’t help but stare at the way you subtly swayed your hips into the couch cushions, how with each mewl you made his cock get harder, how when Hanma’s hand slithered to the back of your neck to grip tightly at your skin, the sight of his punishment tattoo made Draken bite his lip.
“If you’re just gunna kiss her you’re wasting your time,” Draken said nonchalantly, smirking when Hanma pulled away quickly with drool snapping back against his lower lip. His pupils were already a bit blown out, easing himself over the back of the couch and plopping himself down beside you. Your whining was silenced when he used his punishment hand to grip your throat again, pressing your back into the armrest as he licked your leftover drool from his lip.
“No wonder Draken keeps you all to himself, you’re fucking addictive…” Hanma murmurs, leaning down to ghost his lips over yours just to hear your breathy little whines. Draken continues to watch with a clenched jaw, eyes narrowed when your legs lull open further to make space for Hanma, revealing the wet spot on your panties.
“Getting off from another man arent ya little love?” Draken’s voice has a bit of a bite, and the way you whine and gasp as Hanma leaves kisses down your throat is enough of an answer for him. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Hanma, her nipples are sensitive, suck on them.”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice~♡” Hanma pulls down the top of your dress with ease, letting him admire your chest only a second before Draken is clearing his throat, a silent command to ‘quit staring and hurry the hell up’ Hanma is greedy when he latches onto one of your nipples, moaning against your soft flesh when you arch your back for him, dig your fingers into his scalp and pull him in closer with little pleas. “A-Ah~! Not so rough H-Hanma~!”
You’re squeaking again when his free hand lands a swat to your other tit before grabbing a hand full of it. And although Draken should have hauled Hanma’s ass away from you as soon as he heard the skin-on-skin contact it only made him sit up a little more, watch a little closer as pretty tears started to swell up on your lash line.
“Are you wet princess? Daddy wants to hear an answer this time.” You almost cry when Hanma releases your nipple with an obscene pop, licking around the swollen bud and teeth marks he left behind on your skin. “Y-Yes daddy, m’wet…” Your answer is shaky, skin burning up as embarrassment suddenly washes over you.
What was making you hotter, the fact that Hanma was finally having his way with you? Or that fact that Draken watched, commanding his every move?
“Lemme see.” Hanma cooed, palms travelling to your thighs to pull them further apart, the moment you started to thrash Draken made a displeased noise, one that had you still despite the way you whimpered. Hanma greedily took in the sight of your soak panties, how your arousal darkened the pretty cherry red into a crimson. He eyed Draken, seeking approval to keep going. It made Draken grin, something like pride swelling within for having all the control here.
Hanma hooked two fingers into the crotch of your panties, tugging the material over your legs despite how they were squirming and kicking. He couldn't help himself when he brought the dampened material to his face, sucking in a greedy whiff of your arousal. He groaned, dramatically of course, which only made you whine even louder.
“Fucking pervert,” Draken spoke, the grin faltering on his face. Hanma thought it was because he had crossed some sort of line, ready to quickly hop away from your pretty body as soon as Draken stood from his spot. What he wasn’t expecting was Draken to grab a handful of his hair, shoving his nose into your cunt instead.
“Imagine sniffing her panties when her pussy is right here, fucking idiot. It’s like your not even grateful for the time I’m giving you.” He sneered, the amusement in his tone very much evident as Hanma moaned into your damp folds, the intoxicating smell of your pussy making his lashes flutter.
Your whole body was on fire as you watched Draken manhandle another man into your cunt, moaning when Hanma nuzzled in further, locked his mouth around your puffy lips just to suckle at them. You squeaked, back arching as your nails dug into the couch cushions.
“Sweet isn't she…” Draken mused, his grip on Hanma’s hair getting tighter as he moaned against your folds, the obscene slurping making his dick strain against his jeans. Your cute little sounds only added to this unknown pleasure he didn’t know he could feel, looking up to watch the way your chest was currently heaving, a light layer of sweat starting to form on your skin.
“Baby girl, how’s it feel?”
“G-Good!”
“As good as Daddy?”
“N-No!” You cried that part out, legs about to snap shut around Hanma’s head, He didn’t allow for that of course, tattooed hands gripping your plush thighs as he poked his tongue into your fluttering hole. That response seemed to light a fire under his ass, making him all the more determined to have you seeing stars as he tongue fucked you.
“Of course not…” Draken could see though, just how fast you were reaching your high. He knew your signs well, could see the way tears were starting to swell in your lash line. Just as your tummy started to flex, he roughly pulled Hanm’s head back, uncaring of the little hiss he made from the stinging in his scalp.
“D-Daddy!” You cried through pouting lips, the sudden cold air on your drenched cunt making goosebumps rise on your skin. That, and your lost orgasm made you all the whinier, hips bucking for more attention as Draken inspected Hanma’s face.
He looked almost fucked out himself, amber eyes dilated, chin soaked in your arousal, lips puffing with deep breaths. Draken couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh, shamelessly licking at Hanma’s lower lip to taste your familiar essence there.
“Oh yea, sweet as ever~” Draken murmured, grin getting wider when Hanma’s breath stuttered, faltering a bit as blush seemed to fan out over his cheeks.
He released Hanma’s hair finally, tending to you instead with a thumb pressed up against your lower lip. You sucked on it, of course, but still looked to him all teary-eyed, pouty from the lost orgasm and the tingling sensation it left all over your body. “Don’t pout at me little love, wanna come?”
You nodded, giving him your best doe eyes as you suckled his thumb tenderly, held onto his wrist as your hips continued to buck in search of any friction. That look always melted Draken’s heart, made him want to spoil you rotten.
But now there was an extra body involved, making the process of spoiling you all the more interesting as he looked back at Hanma, who was hungrily licking at his own lips, trying to saviour your taste and now, Draken’s.
“Oi, Hanma.” Draken snapped his attention back to him, his smirk a bit smug as he saw the way you obediently sucked Draken’s thumb, how you looked at him like he was the only man in the room.
It made his blood pump faster, desperation rising within him. He wanted you to look at him that way too–
“You wanna fuck her?”
“Yes, Fuck yes, obviously yes–”
“Alright, then I get to fuck your mouth.”
That made Hanma freeze up suddenly, thoughts spiralling wildly in his head as he swallowed a lump in his throat. His cock was aching at the mere suggestion, making his teeth grit.
“Hm, fine, I’ll fuck her then. Get to feel my pretty pussy clenching around me, isn't that right sweetheart?” His free fingers travelled to your heat, circling your fluttering hole and dipping in only for a few seconds as you whined into his digits, nodding desperately for more, anything.
“Wait–” Hanma hissed, running a hand through his already tousled hair. His cheeks were hot as he met Draken’s smug face. And as much as he wanted to punch him, he also wanted to kiss him more.
It was weird, it was hot as fuck.
“Fine.” Hanma succumbed to the throbbing of his cock, letting it do the thinking for him as he finally looked back down to you, focused on your pretty cunt and just how wet it already was. He couldn't help himself when he spat a wad of saliva onto it, finally catching your attention again as your pretty eyes looked at him. You whined when he smeared his spit onto your clit, legs wrapping around his waist as a way to pull him in closer.
“Want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” It was Hanma’s turn to hear you, a bit of his confidence coming back when you released Draken’s thumb just to respond to him. “Yes please, Hanma…”
“Maybe you should call me Shuji, princess.” His words are a bit softer now despite the grin on his face, his fingers focusing on your throbbing clit while his other hand worked his cock free. It slapped down against your weeping cunt, making your hips jolt a bit with the promise of being filled. Keeping a sturdy grip on your thigh Hanma pressed the leaking tip of his cock into your hole, groaning at how it already started to clench, suck him in inch by inch. He waited until he bullied himself all the way in, his balls laying flush against your ass before he grinned.
“Or call me daddy instead, whattya th–”
His voice was cut out by yet another hiss, face being wrenched up back the grip Draken had on his hair again. Although the amusement was still there behind Draken’s eyes, that comment seemed to irk him, lips being pulled into a scowl.
But that’s not what Hanma was focused on. He was focused on Draken’s cock, the way it stood tall and slightly curved towards his abdomen. How the mushroom head was red swollen and leaking pre, how the veins along the underside seemed to twitch.
How it looked much bigger than his own cock.
“Put that mouth to good use and shut the hell up,” Draken mutters, the annoyance in his tone evident as he yanks Hanma closer to his dick, the weight of it smacking up against his cheek. “And don’t forget to make my baby feel good, understand?”
Hanma responded by opening his mouth, an invitation Draken happily took as he pushed his cock in deep enough to have Hanma gagging. Draken couldn't help but chuckle a little at the narrowed eyes Hanma was sending up at him, the way drool already dribbled from his stretched mouth and down his chin.
Your whining brought Draken back to focus, his free hand giving your breast a tender squeeze. “My girls needy Hanma, better make her cum.”
Hanma already knew that just from the way your pussy was hugging him so tightly. Breathing in deeply through his nose his eyes were back on you, the way you watched them with trembling lips, the way your hips rutted into him, the way your fingers held so tightly to the fabric above your head.
He’d make you fall apart, better than Draken could.
His pace was steady, following the rhythmic clap of his balls against your supple skin. Each push of his cock was followed by a moan from you, back arching as Hanma’s fingers also kept steady pressure on your clit. Draken seemed to follow the same beat, his hips shallowly thrusting in and out of Hanma’s mouth.
“S-Shu~ Shuji!” You whimpered, a hand reaching down towards your clit only for Draken to snatch it up, place it back above your head with a stern grunt. “N-Need more~” You whine up at your boyfriend, your need getting the better of you as you pout at him.
Draken clicks his tongue. “Dicks so bad it's making my sweet girl act up, she never does that when I’m fucking her dumb.” His taunt is meant for Hanma, who gags once again as Draken thrusts roughly into the side of his cheek. “She’s gunna turn into a brat if you don’t get you’re shit together.” Draken muses, his grip moving from your wrist to your throat to keep you pinned. “I suggest you hurry the hell up.”
Hanma moans against Draken’s cock at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him. He didn’t question whether it was because of Draken’s domineering nature, or the fact that his own fingers sped up against your clit, either way, he wanted, needed to feel more.
He rutted his hips into you mercilessly, the steady clap becoming a sloppy smack of skin on skin as his tip searched for your sweet spot. Despite his own mouth being used for Draken’s pleasure, he kept his tear-filled eyes on you, needing to see just how pretty you looked when you fell apart because of him.
Or so he needed to believe.
Your moans were cut short by Draken’s hand, which still held tight to your throat. Your lips hung open in silent screams, body trembling as Hanma’s cock stretched your walls, hooked up into your sweet spot to finally make the tears spill from your eyes.
“R-Right there Shuji~! Please!” Your pleas were airy, lashes fluttering heavily as your vision became spotty. That orgasm you lost was building itself back up, making another layer of light sweat form on your skin. You were egging Hanma on, only making him groan louder around Draken as his sin hand left bruises along your thigh, eyes glued to the way your pussy swallowed up his cock and left a ring of arousal in its wake.
That's what was keeping Draken’s attention too, despite the way he let out his own low moan at the vibrations Hanma sent up his cock. He freed your neck finally, only so he could grab Hanma’s jaw with his free hand, his grip tightening in his locks as he smirked.
“She’s coming first, got that psycho?” He was still thrusting into Hanma’s mouth as he spoke, knowing that Hanma couldn't respond. Instead, he took the muffled grunt and the spit bubble forming around his lips as an answer. “Ya know, I like you better like this, just like my girl, your mouth looks better stuffed.”
That made Hanma’s cock twitch with absolute delight, his fingers pinching at your clit now to urge your orgasm further. His hips on the other hand were stuttering, cock head aimed into your sweet spot so you’d cry out again and again.
Just for him.
“M’coming!! Gunna cum Shuji, gunna cum daddy!” You sobbed out, hips being pressed into the couch to keep you from squirming by Draken’s free hand as Hanma brought you over the edge with a slap to your sopping clit. You gasped, eyes crossing before rolling into the back of your skull as your cunt clenched onto Hanma for dear life. “My pretty baby, gunna make a mess on another man’s cock? Go on, be good for daddy.” Draken encourages, knowing his praise is enough to get you fully off the edge, sobs of his name and Hanma’s flying freely off your lips as you gush your arousal.
It makes a mess of Hanma’a abdomen. One that he feels and one that makes his head absolutely reel. He goes to look down, to see your pussy spasming and swollen and leaking around his cock, but he doesn't get the chance. Instead, he’s roughly shoved backwards, his cock leaving your cunt with a squelch before Draken his rutting ruthlessly into his mouth.
“Not bad.” Draken grunts, eyes lit up as Hanma’s nails dig harshly into his thighs. Despite the blood that rises to his skin he doesn't stop, fucking down into Hanms’s throat until he's squirming, choking, the wet slap of Draken’s balls against his chin making him mewl. “Gunna make me cum now, slut.”
Hanma’s cock ached, covered in your arousal and bobbing with the impacts of Draken’s thrusts. Using his grip on Hanma’s hair Draken held his cock deep within the males’ throat before releasing his load, his smirk never faltering as he watched Hanma’s adam apple bob desperately to swallow the thick liquid down.
Hanma’s sight had started going black on the sides when Draken finally pulled out, the inhale he took large enough to make him sputter, drool dribbling past his lips. Blinking the remaining tears from his eyes he finally caught a glimpse of Draken gently petting your spent pussy, whispering what he could only assume was praise into your ear.
You were still twitching, velvety walls hugging Draken’s fingers when they pushed into your briefly, only to pull out and continue to pet your puffy lips. You whimpered at him, weakly, body craving his warmth just like it always did after you came down from a high.
“Did so good f’me, little love, that’s a good girl…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your pouty lips before finally looking back to Hanma. He still looked a bit crazed, eyes wide and cock painfully hard. Despite the way his punishment hand squeezed at his base, he longed for the sweet squeeze of your pussy again to tip him over.
“D-Didn’t get to finish.” He rasped out, eyes narrowing a bit when Draken simply laughed.
“I know. Had to make sure you were even worth our time, psycho. You’ll get to finish next time♡.”
Property of bokuroskitten. Please DO NOT REPOST on any other platform⁉️
Member of @tometpd @hanayanetwork @tokyoredlightdistrict
you suck in a gasp as your elbow knocks a bowl off the counter, and watch in horror—body frozen as if you’re in one of those stupid, cheesy slo-mo scenes from the movies—as it falls and falls and falls.
and clatters to the ground, splattering freshly whipped up cake mix all across the kitchen tile.
you stare at it for a moment, your hands gripping the remaining bowl of batter in your grasp, staring down at the mess on your dingy tile. the surprise for your boyfriend now lies in a running, spreading goop on the floor. your heart nearly matching the level of mush.
with a begrudging, heaving sigh you eye the mess for a moment—mentally berating yourself and blaming the fact that it’s five a.m. for your clumsiness—then force yourself to turn. you stretch your arms out to set the only bowl of batter left onto the counter, so you can fetch something to clean this up.
a figure barging into the kitchen and slamming into the doorframe startles you so bad you think your soul nearly leaves your body.
but the bowl of batter does leave your hands.
clambers to the floor just like it’s partner before it as you jump out of your skin.
and you watch in disdain as it splatters against faded white, a few drops hitting your bare shins and flinging to the front of the cabinets as it does so. your pounding heart starts going triple time—nerves, frustration, and guilt attacking it all in one go.
you flick your gaze up to find shuji—eyes wild and hazy from having just woken up, hair a floppily tousled mess upon his head, clad in nothing but an old ratty t-shirt and his boxers with his socked feet slipping slightly on the ground—pointing a gun at you.
“jesus fuck,” he sighs, after a second, when he finally comes to his senses and realizes that the crash he heard was in fact not an intruder, just his idiot of a partner. “what the fuck?”
“i didn’t—god shuji lower your damn gun,” you sputter, still baffled about what’s happened in just a matter a minutes. “what’re you doing?”
“what am i.. the fuck are you doing?” hanma hisses back, voice hoarse from sleep, as he lowers his gun and rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “i coulda shot you.”
“and i would’ve killed you if you did,” you retort, running your hands down your face, a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue as you look back down the mess on the floor. your heart drops, mood souring at it. “just go back to bed.”
“huh?” and if you weren’t so frazzled, you’d be able to admire how cute your boyfriend is when he’s just woken up, all disheveled and slow, brows knit together.
you bend over, waving a hand at him as you try to ignore the stinging behind your eyes, because of course this is what happens when you try to do something nice. and that’s all you wanted to do; give your boyfriend a nice surprise. a birthday cake in bed, a sweet memory he could use to replace all the bad ones he’d built over the years. you just wanted to do this one thing for him.
despite his incessant grumbling, hanma kneels beside you, sitting his gun on the counter and grabbing a hand towel in place of it, attempting to sop up the mess. you stare at him, shoulders brushing as he works with a soft pout, cursing you under his breath for being so fucking annoying and waking him up.
and you can’t help it, the way you reach forward, fingertips pressing to shuji’s cheek and turning him to face you.
and you kiss him.
because he’s pissed, completely agitated in his half asleep state, jaw set in the way it does when he gets blood on his favorite button up or when he runs out of contacts and has to wear his glasses. yet he’s here, knelt beside you in your shitty apartment’s kitchen at five in the fucking morning, cleaning up a mess that you are entirely at fault for.
his curses die against your lips, melt into a grunt into your mouth as you press into him, your touch so innately delicate it catches him entirely off guard.
you pull back, and he puffs a breath out.
“what was that for?”
you smile, a watery little thing, and lean forward to peck his lips again, then the corner of his mouth, then his cheek before pulling back.
“happy birthday,” you whisper, and it’s low and sweet and something about the way you say it strikes a cord deep in hanma’s soul, twists around his gut and has his eyes widening ever so slightly. “this is your, uh..”
“cake,” he supplies, halfway in a trance as he looks at you, lips curling into a smirk—for what, you aren’t sure, but it rests so naturally on his lips. “i think it’s a little undercooked.”
you laugh, because if you don’t you think you might just cry, shaking your head as you drop your hands to rest atop your crouched thighs.
“yeah.” your tongue pokes your cheek. “just a little.” you stare down at the mess before you, debating on what to even do at this point since you only bought two boxes of cake mix and they’re both spilt right here on the floor. you bite the edge of your lip and take the towel from hanma, starting to scoop the batter into one of the bowls.
he grabs another one off the front of the stove and after about ten agonizing minutes of scrubbing and scooping, four dirty tea towels, and chocolate cake batter smeared all over both of your fronts later—the two of you finally stand back up and admire your clean (well, as clean as it gets) kitchen floor.
you turn to your boyfriend, swiping your thumb at a smudge of batter on his chest and wiping it off on one of the towels as you offer him a sweetly sheepish smile.
“happy birthday, again,” you grin, palm splayed flat on shuji’s chest. “i’m sorry i fucked up and you won’t get any cake.”
and there it is again, that smirk that fits so well in the curvature of hanma’s lips, like that’s the only thing his mouth was ever meant to do. there’s a glint to his eyes in the dim kitchen light, gleaming a mischievous shade of gold as they lid themselves coyly.
“nah, don’t worry,” he hums, tugging you into him, pressing you to his chest as he leans closer to your face. and you discover the reason behind his smirk a second later when his hand snakes down your spine and lower, giving your ass a cheeky squeeze as he simpers against your jaw.
“i’ll have plenty of cake.”
he’s lucky it’s his birthday, or you’d kill your boyfriend with his own gun.
pairings: hanma x f!reader (she/her pronouns, afab!reader)
warnings: 18+, minors dni!, sub!reader, shoe humping, handjob, degradation (hanma is a meanie >.<), dumbification, petname usage (“daddy” is used once), lmk if there’s anything i missed!
word count: ~1.6k
author’s note: this is me coming out as a hanma shuji (28) toman executive simp! perhaps I'll start writing more for tokyo rev in the near future?? anyways, hope you enjoy and likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also shoutout to sam for making this shit readable HAHA <3
His hands trail up and down your figure; sin wrapped around the back of your neck to keep your lips pressed against his, while punishment sneaks underneath your short skirt to play with the hem of your lacy panties. Your fingers trail down his heaving chest until they reach the cold silver of his belt, but as you begin to unbuckle it, his lips leave yours.
“Nuh-uh, not so fast,” he pulls away, a slight and twisted grin curling on the corners of his mouth. “Did you think you were a good girl today, doll?’
You stare up at him doe-eyed, and it makes his dick stir in his already tight slacks. Sheepishly and with uncertainty, you nod, “Yes, I thought so.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Hanma clicks his tongue as he shakes his head. “Wrong answer, sweets. You’ve been very, very, very bad today.” He emphasizes the last very with a playful tap on the tip of your nose.
Lips jutting out into a pout, you stammer, “B-But,” your brain struggles to form a cohesive argument as all the blood rushes to your face in embarrassment. “I was good today during your meeting with all the other executives! I didn’t squirm at all when you were playing with me underneath the table!”
A giggle slips past his lips. He always finds it so cute when you try to defend yourself, never learning that arguing with him is futile. His hands cup your face, and he coos, “Yes, I know. I remember very clearly. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Your head tilts to the side and your eyebrow raises in confusion. Hanma, realizing that you’ll probably get nowhere without a hint, decides to be merciful to his dumb little baby.
“Do you remember what happened after the meeting? C’mon babe, use that pretty little brain of yours.”
When you stare at him with equally blank eyes and a still confused expression plastered on your face, he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Right before going home, you spoke to the building’s doorman.”
It’s like a light turns on in your usually empty head. “But Shu, he was only wishing us a good night!” You protest.
But it falls on deaf ears when Hanma continues, this time his tone much more condescending than before. “No ‘buts.’ You know that I don’t like it when you speak to the common folk.
You’re supposed to be above them— you’re dating the reaper of Tokyo’s underworld after all. You shouldn’t be engaging with beggars who are obviously beneath you.”
Don’t get him wrong, he still doesn’t like it when you talk to civilians, but that’s not the real reason why he’s mad. In actuality, Hanma saw the way that the doorman’s wandering gaze traveled up the curve of your legs before finally settling on the swell of your ass, and in that moment, all he could see was bright red. Nobody should be looking at you, at what’s his and his only, like that. He’ll have one of his subordinates figure out where the doorman lives and kill him the next time he comes home from work.
“Unless,” Hanma mocks, “you want to be on their level. Is that what you want, sweets?”
You frantically shake your head, panicking at his accusation. His large palms cradle your face once more, halting your movements. You stare at him wide-eyed, awaiting his final judgment. “Hmm, I don’t know. You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me right now, doll. Fine, so be it.” Your skin feels hot against his; it feels like his fingertips are being scorched. He’s painfully hard now, but he keeps up his sadistic façade.
“If you want to act like a common whore, then you’ll be treated like a common whore. On the floor, now.”
You know that it’s best to not disobey Hanma. Sliding out of his lap, you carefully maneuver yourself to sit on your knees in front of him, looking up at him and waiting expectantly for his next command.
“Beg for it.”
“B-But how–”
“Tch,” he cuts you off. “Oh, so now you wanna act like you’re above all this shit? Tell you what, if you do a good job, I’ll give you what’cha want. Fuck you real good— like a princess deserves. So get moving, we don’t have all night.”
You hesitantly nod your head before scooting your body closer to his manspread legs. Wrapping one arm around his calf and resting your other hand on the tent in his work pants, you begin to beg using the most saccharine voice you could muster.
“Please daddy,” you whine as your palm squeezes and drags up and down his length. He feels you rest your head against his inner thigh and you stare up at him; lust swims in your irises but it’s hidden by a mask of faux innocence, and the image makes his cock twitch in your hand.
“Need you here,” you murmur as you spread your thighs apart, exposing your clothed cunt to him. You’ve completely soaked through your panties despite being untouched, and it takes every ounce of resolve in Hanma’s body to not pin you to the floor and just fuck you right there. But he soon calms down when he comes up with an even better idea.
He maneuvers his legs so that his foot sits in between your thighs, right underneath your pussy. The tip of his shoe experimentally rubs against your slit, and when it gently grazes your clit, your body jolts at the stimulation. Oh, he’s gonna enjoy this.
“Panties off. Now.”
Your brows furrow yet you still heed his command. Once the flimsy cotton material is tossed aside, his foot resumes its position directly underneath you, this time rubbing against your slick folds with more confidence.
Hanma can easily tell that you’re overwhelmed by this sensation— that your brain is screaming that it’s morally reprehensible but your body feels like it’s being lit aflame. Your panting speeds up to match the same hurried pace that you’re massaging his dick, and when you think that you’re about to cum, when he notices that cute little shudder you do when you’re about to snap, his movements halt.
Orgasm ruined, you stare up at your boyfriend with teary eyes; even through your blurred vision, you see his signature twisted grin spread across his face. “You know what to do,” he coos as he crosses his arms. When you don’t move, he clicks his tongue. “You wanna cum don’t you? Well this is all that you’re getting from me, for now. Go on, I’m waiting.”
Hesitantly, you grind your bare cunt against the top of his shoe, the imported Italian leather soon glistening with a coating of your wetness. You bury your face into the muscle of his thigh to stifle your moans, and it sends the vibrations up and down his spine. He quickly unbuckles his slacks and lowers them as best he could without having to get up, freeing his cock and exposing it to the cold air. He spits on his tip, and moving your palm to wrap around his length, he guides your hands to move at the same hastened rhythm as the rolling of your hips.
Fuck, he’s so close, even though you barely starting jerking him off. Honestly, he almost came in his pants once you started humping his foot, but he absolutely cannot let you know that you have that effect on him. Contrary to your public image, you have him completely wrapped around your finger, but you don’t know it. He’d do anything for you— kill and be killed— for you, but you’re just too daft to fucking notice. So he plays these mind games with you, making you believe that he controls you, when in reality, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Shit, doll,” Hanma moans as he tosses his head back. “You’re that desperate for me? Fuckin’ yourself on my shoe just because I told you to? Willing to take whatever scraps I give you, even if it’s just my fuckin’ foot? Dirty little bitch, maybe you are a common whore.”
You nod frantically into his leg, whimpering, “Yes, Shu! I’m a whore! I’m your whore! Please, just wanna cum!”
He doesn’t miss your fucked-out proclamation of belonging to him; your high-pitched whines are so dizzying to him. As your high approaches, he feels your nails sink into his calf and your grip around his cock tightens. But what sends him over the edge is when you gently bite into his thigh as you cum, body trembling from the intense euphoria that surges through your veins.
He feels his balls constrict and soon he’s shooting thick ropes of white onto your hand and his black slacks. His hips buck upwards as your hand greedily milks him dry, curses and praises spewing from his lips. It’s a mess but nothing the dry cleaners can’t handle— they should be used to it by now.
“Good girl,” he whispers, gently patting his thighs to signal for you to climb onto them. You do so, and when you’re finally settled and straddling him, your soaked and sensitive pussy nestled against his half-hard cock, he presses a soft kiss against your lips.
“That was a good show you put on, sweets, beggin’ for me like that. I was thoroughly entertained. Maybe I should deny you more often?” He chuckles when you softly hit his shoulder.
notes: i don’t like him but i love him. i don’t like how much fun does it bring me to write stuff with this asshole. anyways, d’ya have any cool headcanons or thoughts about this fine gentelman stupid boy?
warnings: mention of food
Love is not something that Hanma would have expected to change his life so drastically. He’s always been a lone wolf, a team of one, eventually two if counting his bike too, no one deserving his trust. It’s been much easier this way, when there’s not a single soul telling you what to do, barely anyone ever wanting anything from you, he’s always been thinking. Shuji’s not a devout man so he’s never prayed for it, but he’s wished for it, for peace, thus he’s gotten really surprised when nothing has come according to his plans.
You’ve appeared unexpectedly in Hanma Shuji’s life. It wasn’t even a summer rain where there’s not a single cloud in the sky or an unannounced quiz from the nicest teacher; it was a whole tsunami. The feelings overflowing in him, the man not ready to take any of them, not able to return them back at the beginning. Yet he quickly started to learn, accept and adapt – the things he’s best at – all the precious emotions of yours towards all he’s made of.
“It’s so cold,” a quiet murmur leaves your lips, and you rub your freezing feet against each other, trembling fists tugging thin blankets closer to your body. Your eyelids stay shut, a white mist appearing in front of your face as you exhale through your nose. “Can you, please, give me another one?”
“It was the last one,” Hanma answers, while checking a loud-creaking closet. The tone of his voice is the same as the expression spreaded on his face; numb, rather sorrowful, corners of the mouth at rest.
“Then come back to me, ‘m freezing,” you mumble fuzzily into the pillow, sleep still hovering over your body. “Wanna cuddle.”
He sighs, shaking his head slightly to the sides. “No can do. Need to go and get the sweet money from bitter guys like me, baby.” Shuji pats your head and you immediately lean into his touch, his slender fingers tangling in your locks. “I can leave you my jacket if you want me to.”
“Mmmmh-mh.” A murmur of denial resounds through the cheap material of the pillow. “You’ll catch a cold. Just.” You make a quick pause while the man moves his palm away, a short whimper of discontent from you makes Hanma let out a short laugh, and you continue. “Just tell these fuckers on the reception to turn on the heating, pretty please.”
You can hear him smiling as he gives three strong but affectionate strokes with his thumb to your cheekbone, and he brushes his lips against that same spot. His eyes widen in surprise, when you catch the drawstring from his hoodie, keeping him close to you. Hanma’s corners of mouth moves upwards as you ruffle your body lazily to the other side, now facing him, only one of your eyes opened, sleepy glare scanning his tired face. “Don’t even think about going without giving me a have-a-great-day-doing-nothing-just-waiting-for-me-as-im-working-hard-so-i-can-please-you kiss.”
And Shuji does what you’ve told him after cracking a laugh. He connects his dry lips with yours, hand grasping headboard for balance as he leans further. A hint of wonder still rummages in his head as he thinks about how it happens all the time for him to be caught off guard by you, to always let you catch him off guard. Because he hasn’t even noticed when or how it happened that you, without even asking, have taken it, the most precious thing he’s kept only for himself and it being not always, his trust.
It feels really weird. That you are real, that you live with him the life he’s bound to lead. The life of a fugitive. You’ve had a home, a place you belonged to, dinner always on a table, you’ve had a family. Yet you’ve decided to stay with him, to change the sleeping place every few nights visiting all different kinds of motels, the food mostly what he steals from shops – his tight and somehow fragile embrace acting as your new home with Shuji being your only family, but the one that feels right when being called a family.
The moment Hanma murmurs into your lips that he really has to go to get money from some bad guys, you once again hide under the blankets, and the steady thumping noises in the direction of the entrance door fill the room. “Can I do anything more to please you?” Shuji asks while dealing with the bunch of keys to places which half of you don’t even know where they belong to.
“Hmmmm…” And when you make this murmur full of thoughts, you really consider what you should ask him for, ‘cause you know that at the end of the day, he’ll probably get this for you. “Maybe these croissants from that little bakery? Those on the third shelf.”
“The ones right in front of the cashier?” Hanma asks, and you murmur in approval. He probably should be more concerned by the fact he has to steal something, the worse that it’s right in front of the owner – but honestly theft isn’t the worst thing he’s done in his young life. “Gotcha.”
Shuji glances for the last time at your trembling and quivering body, and he smiles only at the single thought of how much he loves you. It’s still new for him, the love, yet he thinks of you as a really great teacher and of himself as a fast learner, so he cuffs his sleeves ready to beat the shit out of the owner of this cheap-ass motel, and then out of the random people not willing to agree to give him their money.
synopsis: your best friend convinces you to go out for the first time months after the funeral. you concede, hoping mitsuya will meet you there, but someone else happens to find you instead.
cw: alcohol use, shuji being handsy
a/n: this was not supposed to take this long but when I started adding the smut it made the chapter too long. 😂 So this chapter is the lead-in to the next one (which is literally all smut and mostly finished djfhlsjf) so I had to set the stage first. Thank you so much @portfolio-of-dreams and @kazububs for beta reading ♡
inspo music: mightkillyoutonight by kaiba and bite me by kilo kash
wc: 1.7k
Fog, bass and streaming lights invade your senses the moment you step into the club. Mahi Suru was one of the more popular clubs in Tokyo. Two floors with a massive open area drenched in lights shifting to the beat of the music pulsing through the dark acrylic underfoot. You don’t normally like being surrounded by so many people but your buzz is hitting and fortunately you’re tall enough to locate the bar over the sea of people. Their bodies seem to meld and collide with each other to the techno sound ebbing from the speakers that feel as if they’re all around you.
You were going to need more than a peach chohai to dull the anxiety and nerves tangled in your chest at the prospect of seeing Mitsuya. You get to the bar and pull out your phone, the light from the screen almost mocking you, like a soft spotlight honing in on the disappointment weaving through your face. Yet another message he hasn’t responded to, but it’s still early.
You push your phone into your back pocket as Aiko’s hand appears in front of you holding a drink.
“Sakura Bomb!” Aiko yells smiling, leaning closer so you can hear her over the music. She pulls away, giving your face a quick glance before leaning back in, “Just give it time. All we can do is see if he shows.”
Damn, she reads you too easily.
“It is what it is,” you shrug, holding your drink up to your lips before throwing your head back and swallowing the shot. It’s a sweet burn down your throat. The sensation of the alcohol sliding down your throat already making your face feel warm and your body less tense. You cant hear the sound the shot glasses make when the glass kisses the counter or feel the eyes of the man standing across the room boring into you from behind before he pulls his phone out.
Aiko orders you another shot, your bodies beginning to move to the music letting the alcohol swim into the spaces your mind keeps locked away. All the “what if’s,” and regrets sinking into nothing but fleeting thoughts. Your eyes are closed, your body moving in tandem with the sounds surrounding you when you feel your phone vibrate against you.
“Fucking finally.” The words fall out of your mouth before you even look to see who texted you.
“Oh my god! Yes! Where is he? He’s here right? Tell him to get his ass over here!”
You laugh and roll your eyes, but you can feel the tightness in your chest shift from anticipation to an entirely different emotion.
HANMA: I got your next shot.
It takes you a second to process this.
“Fuck.”
“What? That motherfucker better not have bailed again,” Aiko snaps, turning to face you, awaiting your response but no other words have made it from your brain to your mouth.
“Fucking fuck.”
You don’t mean to ignore her but the thought of Shuji showing up right now would not be ideal for too many reasons to count. The questions Aiko asked earlier about the box he sent you, the possibility of Mitsuya showing up and seeing you with him, the flurry of questions and assumptions that would attack you because of this one man’s presence. Your best bet would be to play it off and try to wait it out where he couldn’t get to you.
You shove your phone back into your pocket and turn towards the bar, a single shot placed in front of you. You don’t even bother to ask the bartender where it came from. You already saw Hanma’s text. You down it in a single swallow and turn toward Aiko.
“Bathroom.”
Her expression is steeped in suspicion but she nods her head and begins to follow you toward the direction of the bathroom. You’ve never been more grateful for a sea of people as you maneuver your way through the mass of moving bodies. You keep your eyes on your goal in an attempt to refrain from accidentally making eye contact with the giant of a man you were trying to avoid.
You can just make out the door through the fog, cursing yourself for failing to think about the inevitable line of people waiting for the bathroom, making you stop in your tracks. Someone drunkenly attempts to pass by you, bumping into your shoulder, sending half their drink onto your top and your back into Aiko’s chest, almost knocking her over.
“Shit! Seriously?” You shout after the offender, turning around to check on your friend. “Are you-“
“Damn, I’m jealous.” A deep, familiar voice came from around your friend, your eyes trailing up past the set of broad shoulders and wolffish grin stretched across the face you were running from.
“Fuck off,” Aiko spat, turning around to face whoever it was behind her.
Hanma leans down towards her, hands in his pockets, lips pulled into the same taunting grin you’ve felt against your skin on a handful of previous nights, “Hello to you too.”
Aiko cracks a fake smile up at him, standing between the two of you, “Bye, we were just leaving.” You could feel the sarcasm oozing out of her.
You can feel his eyes on you, your gaze connecting around Aiko’s frame. You felt your friend tug at your wrist, pulling you towards the direction of the exit, but your feet don’t move. She turned at your resistance, trying to signal you with her eyes that the exit was in the opposite direction.
A quick survey of the crowd and the entrance steels your resolve. Half the reason you allowed her to drag you here was to see if Mitsuya would meet you tonight. After months of him ghosting you, this was your way of trying to reach him. If he wouldn't meet with you one on one at your place, you thought maybe it would be less pressure to meet somewhere public.
You shove your hand into the back pocket holding your phone, hoping to feel it vibrate and hoping Mitsuya would at least respond to let you know if he was coming or not. Avoiding Hanma was just an additional task that happened to fail but if you had to deal with him you would do that.
“Haven’t seen you out in a while Ri,” He responded, as if Aiko never spoke, walking around her to drape his arm over your shoulder. “Was startin’ to think I wouldn’t see you anywhere besides my apartment.”
Your jaw clenches, shifting your gaze up towards him to make sure he felt your glare as you spoke through the smirk painted on your face. “These drinks on you then, yeah?”
Hanma smiles down at you, then looks over at Aiko, “I think your friend’s trying to take advantage of me.”
Aiko rolls her eyes before nearly jumping out of her skin when she feels fingers ghosting the back of her neck, causing her to turn her head in the opposite direction of the pink haired Bonten member she’s been “talking to” now comfortably standing next to her.
“This asshole bothering you?”
Sanzu leaned into her, the scars at the corner of his lips tilted up in a half smile.
“Not anymore.” You hear her say, looking over at you with her eyebrows raised, wordlessly checking on you. You can almost feel her claws retracting while Sanzu’s arm wraps around her waist before turning her face toward him and smiling before he kisses her.
“Get a room,” Hanma scoffs, smiling while he leads you back to the bar.
You down your next two shots, chasing away the thought of the questions Aiko was going to ask you about the comment Hanma made earlier.
“So you’ve been to his apartment, hmm?”
The burn from the alcohol helped pull your focus to other things. The music pulsing into you, the feeling of Hanma’s hands on your waist, your hips, your ass. You pulled your phone out every so often when your mind tried to remember what you came out for in the first place. The name you were hoping to see never appearing on the illuminated screen. Each fruitless scroll through your notifications pissing you off more than the last.
What did you do to him? How was it fair that you were practically begging to talk to him and he couldn’t even text you back? You were hurting too…Ken was yours…without him you felt anchorless. You couldn’t manage to do more than just drift through life right now and hope you didn’t sink. But Mitsuya was there too. Holding you while the last traces of life left Ken's body, keeping you together then, and during the funeral. You wanted to be there for him the way you thought he would be there for you, but it felt like he wasn’t even allowing you to reach out to him. As if the years of memories you shared were buried along with almost every other good thing you had left.
“You done pouting now?” Hanma’s voice lilted into your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he leaned into you.
You could feel your body melt into him but your mouth bit back, “I don’t know. Are you?”
One of his hands trailed up your back, wrapping around the base of your neck, “You ignore my texts, try to hide from me and make me wait to sink my dick into you and you’re gonna be this mouthy?”
Your face heats up. Your head unconsciously tilting into his touch as his words breathe against your skin. Setting every nerve ending on fire even through the pissed off mask you were attempting to uphold. You would let him ruin you right here if you didn’t enjoy making him angrier.
“Hmm…seems like you aren’t done pouting,” you smirk up at him.
The words barely leave your mouth before his hand smoothes up the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling just enough to tilt your head further back.
A full faced grin spreads across his lips, his eyes shooting daggers into you before he leans down, brushing his lips against your ear when he speaks, “We’re leaving, now.”
a/n: ty miso for the idea! time to cook some burnt breakfast with shu'!!! most of the fic is him and reader in bed buuut there is some food LOL not proofread + why do i always post at midnight ?? idk but im going to bed now ily guys
cw: reader cooks bacon and is implied to eat it for breakfast, just wanted to put that out in case!
behind the lids of your eyes, there was a subtle change in hue as the sun's light spilled through the curtains of the room. the room, where you and hanma currently lied soundly in, was the perfect temperature.
a spring breeze was quiet as it crept into the crack hanma had forgotten to close in the window. it was quite chilly, from where your head peeked above the lush blanket that covered the two of you. with a incoherent mumble, you made a mental note to scold him of that later. but for now, all your mind could muster focusing on—was the spreading warmth on your hip from hanma's large palm.
he was spooning you from behind, and it would seem as though he was waking up himself. you knew from the way his fingers were slowly stroking your skin. every nudge of his knuckle made a tingle spring its way up and over your spine. shifting yourself slightly, you turned lazily to face him in all of his morning glory.
his eyes were still closed, but a coy smile played his lips at the movement of the mattress. he knew you were facing him, but decided to play dumb. you chuckled, "i know you're awake, idiot. that smile's not helping you."
your lips pryed open with a teasing grin as you snuggled your way closer to his bare chest, palms resting on the taut muscle. his skin was hot under your touch and you enjoyed the way his body rumbled from the way he chuckled—eyes still closed.
you craned your head around and whispered a soft, "wake up, my love," against the junction of his neck and ear.
that must've been what set him off, because from the corner of your vision, you could see the striking glimmer of his golden eyes peer through the shield of his lids. you sighed, and decided you could never get tired of this sight: hanma shuji, shirtless, with tousled hair and sleepy eyes. your boyfriend was absolutely stunning. the colour of his orbs could battle the all the stars and merge victory tenfold, no matter the situation.
"it's almost ten, i'll head down to fix us something yeah?" you whispered, in the same place to him. he simply nodded, and rubbed his eyes to rid of any sleepiness. once he adjusted himself, he smiles at the sight of you against his chest: so comfortable and safe—right in his arms. he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, and cupped your cheek.
"some breakfast sounds good, what about eggs and toast?" he suggested through a stiffled yawn, making you laugh. you place a quick peck on his lips, and make your way up and over his body.
"eggs and toast it is, my love."
hanma watched your figure walk away from the bed and out the door, his eyes never leaving until you were completely gone from his sight. after some moments pondering whether or not to go back to bed, he eventually got up. throwing on a black tee, hanma adjusted his sweats and went to ready himself for the day before heading down to join you.
usually, you and hanma would cook together—"i know how to whip up a few things, nothing fancy but it does the job"; hanma had once told you, when you confessed you weren't too polished in the culinary zone. but some eggs, toasts, and even bacon weren't an issue to you anymore (courtesy of hanma's partially above-average cooking skills).
you poured some oil into a heated pan, and had been in the middle of cracking a few eggs when the presence of someone lingered behind you. as if confirming your suspicions, your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your torso and plopped his head atop yours.
"smells good," he pouts into your hair, referring to the plate of freshly sizzled bacon to your right. the smell wafted your nostrils with a potent scent that went straight to your grumbling stomach. hanma must've heard it because he laughed, hands reaching lower to your hips and pulling you back against him. "someone's hungry, hm?" he kissed your head and pulled back when you playfully swat him away.
"ya' know i like em sunny side up, right babe?" he said before he drifted too far away.
you nodded absentmindely, not even turning to face him when you replied: "no need to remind me, i remember shu'."
hanma smiles at that.
grabbing the necessary plates and utensils, he set the table up as needed, making sure to grab extra napkins for you. you were sometimes a messy eater. at the cupboard, he grabbed your guys' morning drinks; making his coffee just the way he liked it. the aroma of caffeine made its way around the kitchen and you hummed in delight. hanma took the toasts out of the toaster, and gulped down a swig of his coffee mug with a happy grin.
he always enjoyed mornings when the two of you could just enjoy each other's company. the homey feeling of this life was an experience like hanma had never had. the pure domesticity of it all—was something he could certainly get used to.
there was no need to talk, even while eating. you two simply sat and enjoyed a meal like it was no other. like you have done this a million times already. hanma would refill your cup when he noticed it was empty, and you would grab him another serving of bacon when he had gobbled it all down (far too quickly, you thought, but hey—at least your cooking was delicious enough).
mornings like this were—what hanma would call—absolutely perfect.
mornings suck. forcing yourself to open your eyes sucks. peeling the comfortable covers off of your body sucks. making yourself sit up in bed sucks. slamming your hand on your alarm for he fifth time in a row sucks. the lecture you’re about to get ready for? you’re sure that’s going to suck the most.
you can feel the bed shift behind you as you swing your feet off the mattress, toes hitting the cold laminate. a yawn stretches your mouth open, the back of a hand reaches up to rub at your bleary eyes.
and a face presses into your back.
familiar hands follow it right after, sliding lazily and clumsily from your hips to where they settle around you, wrapping around your waist. you twist enough to see your boyfriend somewhat nuzzle into you, his lips pressing to the base of your spine through your shirt.
“no,” he mumbles—and his voice sounds sweetly agitated, like when you steal the last bite of his food or scold him for leaving his bloody rags on the sink.
“babe, i gotta,” you smile, because how could you not? his hair is a mess, lacking it’s normal gel that keeps it so well swept. now it splays messily around his face, his sleep flushed cheeks, wild at the top like an unruly crown. you shift to lift one leg back onto the bed, twisting more so that hanma’s cheek is resting against your hip. “my lecture starts in twenty minutes. i’m already gonna be late.”
“more reason to not go,” he says, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt to thumb against your skin. his eyes are closed, like he’s still half asleep. then again he probably is. “better never than late, i always say.”
“yes and that,” you slide your hand down to his cheek to pinch it, “is why you are always getting in trouble.”
“when am i ever..” his words dwindle off, a deep exhale fanning against your hip, then he’s jerking back awake. “when am i ever in trouble?”
“just go back to sleep.” you laugh, trying to unwrap his arms from around you. it’s all for naught though, and you should really know better by now, because your actions only result in a disgruntled hanma dropping his head into your lap instead. giving him a better leverage to trap you.
“no.” he squeezes your waist as he says it, pouts into your stomach, and tries to pull you further back into bed the best he can in his compromised position.
“shuji,” you groan, glancing again to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “if i don’t leave now, i really will be late.”
“if you don’t leave, you can’t be late,” he reasons, stupidly smart for his sleep stricken self. “now shut up and come back.”
“if i never left, i can’t come back,” you retort, smirking at the grumbles that leave his lips at you using his own sarcasm against him. you try to peel his grip off of you again, attempting to coo him to a middle ground.
it’s only when you effectively remove one of his arms from around you, about to slide from your boyfriend’s grasp and make your escape, that he finally cracks his eyes open. his bangs hang in them, but that doesn’t stop their half lidded golden glory from making your heart skip as he looks up at you. if anything, it makes it worse.
“stop it. you’re being an asshole,” hanma huffs, ripping his arm out of your grasp in order to grab your wrist, stopping you from standing up from the mattress. his pout is less sweet now, deepened by the ghost of an irritated scowl. but it doesn’t look any less cute. “fuck your lecture. i want cuddles and i want sleep and i want you.”
he tugs at your wrist then, yanking down so that you have no choice but to follow and bend to his level, pulling you in until you’re mere millimeters apart. the shared breaths are nothing nice, morning breath on each of your tongues, but the flecks in hanma’s eyes seem to distract you from that.
“stay,” he breathes, lips a sliver of an inch away from brushing against yours, tone a half a step back from making you dizzy. a smile curls at his mouth, like he knows he’s going to win before you even give an answer. “yeah?”
and it’s annoying and unfair and you really needed to be at lecture this morning, but you throw all that away to surge forward and press your lips to shuji’s.
“yeah,” you mutter into his mouth as you pull away, a curse on the tip of your tongue at the instant stretch of a cheeky smirk that plays at hanma’s lips. he shifts back into his imprinted spot in bed and drags you with him, hardly giving you a chance to get comfortable before he’s burrowing his face into your neck. “i hope you know i hate you.”
“i hope you know i know you’re lying,” he quips, and you want nothing more than to smack the back of his head. you raise a hand to run your fingers along the hair at his nape instead.
“i’m pretty sure if i miss one more lecture i get a red flag on my record,” you sigh, dancing your fingers along hanma’s spine as he intertwines your legs together.
“then i’ll handle it,” hanma answers, pressing his lips to the side of your neck, then your collarbone, then just under your jaw. “i’ve killed for less.”
“are you really plotting to kill my prof for something that’s entirely your fault?”
it’s a quiet for a moment, then hanma hums.
“i mean—“
“oh my god just go to sleep,” you groan, but it quickly melts into a laugh as you shake your head at your boyfriend.
his sleepy smile presses into the skin of your neck, causing one of your own to curl your lips as you press them to his forehead in a half-assed kiss. he snuggles closer to you, clings harder like he thinks you’re still going to try to sneak out on him any second now, and it doesn’t take more than a minute before his even breaths are tickling your throat.
guess you’ll never know just how much lecture would suck today after all.
