Logged into this account accidentally after about a year and yeah I think this is the end of tatakaebomb.
There’s 0 bad blood between me and Ren we’ve just naturally drifted and I wish her nothing but the best.
There won’t be any new posts or interactions, I think the best thing to do is to keep all our posts up so people can read it but we aren’t accepting requests or interactions (not from my half anyways)
It was fun while it lasted and thankyou so much for everyone who enjoyed our content and our journey together but sadly me and ren don’t speak anymore (hoping she’s okay) and I won’t be making any new content from my behalf. I won’t be active on tumblr from this point on.
I don't exactly know what to do. Deleting this account would feel like such a waste and people may still wanna read old posts of ours, i don't wanna take that away from anyone.
I still write lol, i just don't post anymore.
Rebranding the account to be only mine could be an option but then again, maybe that would be weird, people might still wanna read Ash's old stuff which i'd have to delete in case of that.
I'll probably just leave this account alone, and maybe post on another if i really wanna come back to Tumblr.
Thank you to everyone who read and interacted/supported our work, it's crazy how big this account ended up getting but aye,shit happens.
It's been a few months, maybe a year, maybe more - i don't know, buuuut me and Ash no longer talk, she's doing her own thing and we naturally drifted a long time ago. I doubt she even has Tumblr anymore, and i'd feel awkward reaching out to her after ages to ask uhhh ' remember that smut Tumblr acc we had? It's still getting interactions, what do i do? ' LMAO I honestly thought the account would die out, but logging in to see people still check this out made me want to write this.
TLDR; Ash and Ren aren't friends anymore, we stopped talking, she stopped writing and i'd feel weird posting on my own to an account we created together.
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.”
I'm not sure I can express this sentiment strongly enough, but I'm going to try via the medium of large bolded text.
Write what the fuck you want.
Write what makes you happy. Write what makes your soul sing. Write what fucks you up and makes you cry. Write what comforts you. Write what distracts you. Write what you want to read. Write what you want to watch.
Write what you want to dream about tonight.
Write what you can't get enough of. Write what you're completely obsessed with. Write what wakes you up at 4am and drags you out of bed because you can't stop thinking about what your characters are going to do next.
Write what turns you on, if that's your vibe. Write characters you're in love with and characters who inspire you and characters you want to be friends with and characters you fucking hate but oh my god they're so much fun.
Write about things you would sell your soul to do in real life and things you would never do in real life. Write about things that are happening right now and things that happened a thousand years ago and things that might happen in the future and things you wish could happen.
Write to get a publishing deal or to sell your books yourself or not to sell your books at all. Write for your friends or for strangers or for the people who reblog your posts on Tumblr and send you songs that remind them of your characters.
Write for yourself.
Fuck any system that tells you there's only one right way to create or one valid way to share your writing. Your story, the way you tell it, has so much value. Make people smile or piss people off or do both of those things because art is divisive and fascinating and beautiful.
Start writing. Keep writing. And write what the fuck you want.
Fiction affects reality and you are a deeply disturbed freak. Get help
Yaaasss girl so true!!! ❤️
Anyways, the date I went on yesterday went really well tbh I think I’d see him again. But I’m not sure if I want a relationship so there’s that issue but I guess we will see what happens.
