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・✿・ Squishmallow pt.2 ・✿・

Kokonoi Hajime x Reader

Synopsis: calling Koko your little “squishmallow”

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, Koko being soft for you

Bonten trio version

・୨ ✦ ୧・

He’s trying… he really is…

He’s trying so hard right now to ignore your looming figure that stood so close behind his desk. He can still see you in his peripherals even when he attempts to focus his vision solely on the work displayed on his computer screen. When you said nothing, his dark slanted pupils shot up to look at you (finally…)

“What?” he asked condescendingly, and you tilt your head to the side as if to tell him something, he’s just not sure what.

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People keep saying my more recent Kalim drawings have looked like muppets so

Poor Jamil needs a day off

#selfrb

・✿・ Squishmallow ・✿・

 Synopsis: calling the bonten trio your little “squishmallow”

Warnings:established relationship, slightly suggestive(?), making out in Rindou’s bit, mostly fluff though

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

・୨ ✦ ୧・ Rindou

After a long day of working hard, Rindou wanted to do nothing more than to bask in the affection of his significant other, you. It all started out as an innocent cuddle session before things slowly escalate into something more heated when you began to straddle him and brought your sweet lips to his. His attempt in trying to release all the pent-up stress during the day became apparent as his movements became rougher and needier.

Much to his disappointment, you pulled away from him with a playful grin stretching across your face. Disappointment quickly turned to curiosity, and before long you brought your hand up to his face and caresses his cheek softly. He leans into your gentle touch, and for a second you could’ve sworn you heard him purr, though if you did, you said nothing of it.

You slide your thumb over to the other side of his face and began to squeeze at his cheeks lightly.

“What?” he said furrowing his brows together.

“You’re like my little squishmallow~” you sang gleefully, and this made the man before you blink in confusion as he feels warmth travel to his cheeks. He averts his demure gaze from you but tries to hide it with an ever-present scowl resting on his lips. “Sure, I’m your little squishmallow” he gruffly says before capturing your lips with his to devour them once more.

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・✿・ Squishmallow pt.2 ・✿・

Kokonoi Hajime x Reader

Synopsis: calling Koko your little “squishmallow”

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, Koko being soft for you

Bonten trio version

・୨ ✦ ୧・

He’s trying… he really is…

He’s trying so hard right now to ignore your looming figure that stood so close behind his desk. He can still see you in his peripherals even when he attempts to focus his vision solely on the work displayed on his computer screen. When you said nothing, his dark slanted pupils shot up to look at you (finally…)

“What?” he asked condescendingly, and you tilt your head to the side as if to tell him something, he’s just not sure what.

He sighed, then reached down to his pant pocket to pull out his wallet before sliding out his credit card, then handing it to you. When you don’t take it, his brows furrow. “No?” You shake your head to his inquiry. You grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it to the side of his desk for you to sit.

“Jus’ wanna spend time with you is all!” you chirped, resting your face on the palm of your hand as he watches you— unsure of what your true intentions are, though not wanting to delay his work any further, he got right back into it.

The more time passes, the more restless you become. That’s when you decide to reach out to poke at his cheek, then wiggle your finger up and down to play with the soft skin on his face.

“What are you doing?” he questioned. The corner of your lips curled to a smile (one that never fails to shake him to the core) and you continue to prod at his face until he eventually tugs at your wrist to pull your hand away.

“Stop that!” he said, feigning intimidation, but it doesn’t work… at least not on you. “’m sorry love, your cheeks just looked so soft and adorable!” you giggle. “You’re like my personal squishmallow”

He had to hold back a chortle, but the slight twitch of his lips did nothing to conceal his amusement. “You’re insufferable you know that?” was all he said before returning to his work— yet his feelings could not be any more different than the words he speaks. His mood was now less bitter than before, and he had you to thank for that.

The day grows weary as time goes by, before he knows it, the sound of your light snores accompanies the melody of his nimble fingers typing away at his computer. He sighed, then shifted his eyes to your slumped, sleeping figure. This time he didn’t hesitate to let a smile stretch across his features.

Gently, he brushed a piece of stray hair out of your face and then tucked it behind your ear. When you didn’t as much as flinch, he decided to be bolder and went to pinch at your cheek.

“My little squishmallow” he uttered lovingly to himself, praying to whatever God will listen that you did not hear what he just said.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

A.N: originally this was supposed to have multiple characters, but this became longer than I anticipated T-T

someone tell me how to get out of a writer’s block, I’ve tried mostly everything and it’s not working adnfewrvetbtb

Hi, how are you

I wanted to know if you would give me permission to translate your Writing in Spanish for Wattpad from tokyo revengers

As I have stated on my rules page that translating is not allowed. Please kindly give it a read, and do have a nice day <3

Tsukishima secretly likes watching cringey movies just so he could shit on it

Ran continues to give me second hand embarrassment and I'd let him do it again

⋆✦⋆ The Cute Barista Who Couldn’t Get My Name Right ⋆✦⋆

Synopsis: Imagine having Kuroo Tetsuro as your barista and he can never for the life of him get your name right... or perhaps he can, he just chose not to.

+ coffee shop AU, Barista!Kuroo, fluff, Kuroo’s terrible at flirting

A.N: HQ season five when??

꘎♡━━━━━━♡꘎

When he calls for you, he wasn’t calling your name. He was just shouting something that sounded close to your name.

It didn’t help that the entire time he was looking straight at you with half-lidded eyes as if he’d done nothing wrong. You rose from your seat with lightning speed and rushed over to the dark-haired barista to grab your drink right out of his hands and thanked him before rushing to the exit.

“Anytime sweets, see you around!” you gave him an awkward smile, then finally walked out the door to make your way to your college campus.

You look at the name written across your coffee cup in bold black letters and you realize the attractive new barista hadn’t only said your name wrong, but he’d also written your name incorrectly. A dreary sigh escapes you, but you let it slide.

Mistakes such as this weren’t something uncommon after all. Everyone has had a barista who’s got their name wrong by mistake before, right?

At least… you thought it was a mistake—until you came back the next day and ordered your coffee. He managed to start a conversation with you and the conversation went on swimmingly. He was charming and engaging, and you end up exchanging quite the friendly banter. You even found out that he’s a chemistry major and goes to the same campus as you. You’ve never stumbled upon him on campus grounds before, and if you have, you’ve never noticed. But now at least you can always tell him apart by the Cheshire smile he wore on his face.

“Here, on the house” he says, as he gave you your drink, as well as a piece of bagel you didn’t recall ordering. You wanted to decline his kind offer, but he insisted, so you obliged. You thanked him once again and made your way out of the coffee shop. Out of sheer curiosity, you look at the name written on your cup, and lo and behold your name was written incorrectly yet again.

Once or twice, you could accept, but by the third time, you thought it was just ridiculous. You’ve met him precisely three times now, and in all of those three times, he’s spelled your name in three different ways. Somehow out of all three, none of them were correct.

So by the fourth time, you told him you’d just spell it out for him. You spelled out your name, letter by letter, and once he was done writing, you wait. This time you didn’t wait until you walked out the door to check and see the spelling of your name—instead, you checked it as soon as he gave you your cup. To no one’s surprise; he got it wrong again.

“Are you for real?” you say, finally voicing your irritation. He didn’t look confused or surprised. He just looked playful and teasing, almost as if he did it on purpose. “Something the matter, sweets?” he asked, feigning innocence.

You pointed at the name he’s written on your cup, “That’s not my name… in fact, you haven’t written my name at all in the four times I’ve come here” you chastised, yet he still showed no sign of guilt.

“Aw geez ‘m sorry, I guess I’m bad at writing down names,” he rested his elbows on the counter to inch his face closer to yours. “Mind if I write down your number instead?” he winked.

Your face burned red from being flustered in anger. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you would’ve doused that devilish smirk right off his face with the hot burning coffee in your hand.

You did end up giving him your number in the end though...

꘎♡━━━━━━♡꘎

Ran Haitani is better than me because if I saw Mitsuya looking like that I would have moaned, fainted and/or gone for an open-mouth kiss

Soft Rindou Haitani who comes home in the middle of the night from a Bonten owned club. His tie is long gone, forgotten somewhere unknown, and his shirt is unbuttoned with the smell of smoke pressed into the fabric. He finds you asleep on the couch with a thin blanket pulled over you and the television on, its volume low. Maybe you tried to wait up for him or possibly fell asleep watching one of your shows.

Rin crouches down in front of the couch, smiling softly as he gazes at your sleeping form. He reaches out, taking his middle finger to sweep pieces of your hair that have fallen across your face. You’re in one of his sweaters, he can tell by the logo on the back, and something warm nestles in his stomach. You’re beautiful like this—vulnerable, soft, much too gentle for a world like his. Yet neither of you seem to care or you pretend not to notice.

He leans in and kisses your forehead. “Baby,” he gravels quietly. “Sugar, I’m home.”

You stir, grumbling with a pinched brow at the disturbance.

“Come on,” he tries, maneuvering his hands between you and the couch. “I’ll carry you t’ bed.”

“M’kay.” Your eyes are still closed even as he lifts you with a grunt. “Love you,” you mutter absently, snuggling into him, and it puts a stupid little grin on his face.

Rin presses a long kiss to the top of your head, savoring the moment. “I love you, too.”

Can I be turned into a baton or an iron pipe? It's for social experiment and science.

Bonnie and Clyde - Hanma Shuji

- Just a random thought on how I think he'll propose to you.

Oh why do I feel like Hanma's the type to propose to you this way. Like a bunch of enemies are chasing the both of you after you bumped into them. Hanma looked at you while you're both running and he realized how much he wants to spend the rest of his troubles like this with you. So he decided "this is it". Then, he'll launch of the grenade to the enemies and use the safety pin ring as your proposal ring.

He'll smirk at you as he popped of the question, "Ride or Die with me, Y/N."

˖ˑ ꔫ ˚₊ CHEF-D'OEUVRE  ˖ˑ ꔫ ˚ ₊ 

Inui Seishu x Reader

Warnings: Historical!AU, afab!painter!reader, manga spoilers, implied sexism and feminism(?), making out, established relationship

CHEF-D'OEUVRE

/ˌSHāˈdo͝ovrə/ a masterpiece.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that your husband would agree to become your model, but here you are. Though you can’t quite say his reaction was one you were expecting at all.

⎯⎯⎯  ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯

You are a distinguished young lady, coming from a family of well-respected men and women alike, and he was a member of a reformist group that lived in the offside of town, who had long been orphaned because of a tragic accident.

When you were told that women would never be accepted into an art academy, you traveled to the unlikely side of town to seek out like-minded people, such as those who believed that women should have equal opportunities as men when it comes to studying art. That was when you met the reformist group who so actively stood for the equality of men and women.

How likely is it for someone like you, to stumble upon a “lost soul” like him amidst all of this? And how much more likely is it for you to end up falling in love with said boy, even after knowing of society’s disapproval of your union? The answer is not likely, yet not likely doesn’t mean it can’t happen.

You found solace with one another, and now he becomes more to you than just a lover. He has become your muse.

──

“Will this take much longer?” your blond-haired lover complained for the nth time.

“Hush my dear, you cannot rush art” you say, not bothering to look away from the once blank canvas before you.

Inui had been keeping still in that exact position for hours now, and even for someone who prefers the calm such as him, it was rather difficult for him to stay still for an extended period of time, especially since his back is starting to ache from staying idle for so long.

Though against all odds, he endured it because it was for you—besides, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it just the tiniest bit.

Often enough his eyes would flicker to you, watching as your eyes would alter between the canvas he was so eager to see, and his figure, the muse that inspired the passionate artist before him.

After staying unmoving for so long in one attitude, his expression became dull, and so to remedy this, every time his smile falters, you would make silly faces at him to lift his spirits up once again.

He loved seeing you in your element. He admired how you so ardently slide the paintbrush across the blank slate, creating beauty out of something as ordinary as a bowl of fruit—but he found you especially captivating when your lips pout if something doesn’t turn out to your liking. He could practically see you wracking your head for ways to work around your mistakes.

You are doing it right now in fact. He wanted to do nothing more than to approach you and press his lips upon yours to erase that pervasive frown off your face, but alas he must deprive himself of acting on such urges for it would only upset you further.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see your movements becoming erratic, and the frown on your lips now replaced with a brilliant smile. It must mean that you’re—

“Done!”

“Done?” he repeated to be certain.

Once you gave him a confirmation, he swiftly got out of his torturous position and stridden over to where you stand to see the finished painting. He stops once he stands behind you, then slithers his arm to wrap around your stomach as he places his head to rest on your shoulder.

The painting itself was magnificent, though he never once doubted your skills, even if you are self-educated in art.

“This might just be my very own chef-d'oeuvre, wouldn’t you say?” your head tilts to the side, and he gave you a soft hum in response.

“It’s a shame they do not showcase a woman’s work more often. Your work is quite exceptional my love” he praised, and you cascade your gaze downwards as you attempt to hide your blooming cheeks with a chuckle.

“Perhaps it is better that way… why share your beauty with the rest of the world when I can have you all to myself?” you tease, turning your head to face him and planting a kiss on his cheek. His face blossomed into a bright shade of pink, though fortunately for him your gaze was already back on the painting to notice it.

His hues of baby blue studied the breathtaking piece of art before him. Many would not believe someone as faulty as him could be portrayed as something so… elegant, and yet here he stood.

He must admit, he found the painted version of himself to be rather ethereal. It makes him wonder if this was truly how you saw him. However, his state of awestruck has come to an abrupt end when his gaze travels to the off-colored scars that decorated one side of his face. You must’ve noticed his change in demeanor too, for shortly after you said: “Is something the matter my sweet? Is the outcome not to your liking?”

“No, not at all… you’ve captured my likeness so well in fact…” he pauses. “Even my scars…” your head quickly whipped to his direction, disbelieving of how coarsely he spoke of his marks.

“What of them?” you ask, genuinely muddled by his distaste for them. “They’re a beautiful addition are they not?”

He said nothing in return.

You huff, shifting so that you could turn around and face him. “Well, I think they’re beautiful” you say, then placed the gentlest kiss on the eye embellished with his burn mark. When you pull away to look him straight in the eye, he cannot help but smash his lips against yours with fervor and passion, like that of a starved man who had not fed in days. He could never get enough of you and your love.

He was yours and yours alone. Body and soul.

Your lips danced against one another until your lungs cried for air. You giggled with your eyes closed once the two of you broke apart, and he does the same as he brought your foreheads together.

He was fully convinced that you are the only person to see him in such a light—elegant, ethereal, and sublime—when most would only see him as nothing more than a misguided youth. He was once again reminded of how even when society had exiled you after your union with him, you still chose him in the end, and every waking hour you’d remind him that you’d do it again, and again. Even a million times over, no matter the consequence.

And for you. He would do the same…

for the true chef-d'oeuvre was not the paintings you’ve created, but the life you’ve made together.

⎯⎯⎯  ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐓

i present just some nasty, eye crossing drabbles <3

+ sanzu, mikey, ran, rindou, inui, chifuyu, kazutora, draken

tw: fem!reader, cursing, praise, f!oral, m!oral, breeding kink, creampie, man handling (for draken part) soft dom! w/ sub reader

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮; never stops after one load of his seed filling your messy hole, sanzu doesn't always get to spend a lot of time with you so this is his way of never letting you forget him. “my angel needs more of my cum, yeah?” his voice is hoarse from the moans brushing past his lips, vocal about everything that he’s been doing to you and when you weakly reply with a little nod—sanzu is more than happy to give you all the cum he has <3

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐲; always uses the pet names he’s been calling you since day one especially during a heated makeout, and even more while he’s hovering over you, placing gentle kisses on your ankle thrown over his shoulders. “you’re so beautiful, princess” he smiles, corners of his lips curling upwards slowly while your nails scratch against his chest—manjiro takes another sharp breath before he grinds his hips down to push his cock deeper inside you. “my everything” he whispers, finding your lips to seal another kiss and you’re so much more to mikey than you’ll ever know but maybe the way he fucks you will let you know, just a little bit. <3

𝐫𝐚𝐧; rubs the ring adorned on your finger while he flicks his tongue against your clit, raising his violet hues to your lips parting from another orgasm bubbling to the surface and he smiles. ran has this epiphany that if he keeps his fingers interlocked with your own, delicately tracing the metal placed on your pretty finger—you’ll always cum within seconds. laying his tongue flat to drag the warm muscle through your folds to collect all of your juices he finally lifts his head from between your legs, “always taste so good for me” he coos, making sure you know what he’s talking about as he captures your mouth with his slick covered lips, never letting go of your hand because you’re on cloud nine right now—you might slip from his fingertips. <3

𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮; something about the way he feels the earth shattering under the weight of his body everytime you kiss him—the passion driven in your lips and hands gently holding rindou for all he’s worth. “angel—s-shit, you’re gonna make me cum” he warns, slightly pouting when you continue bouncing on his lap, your pussy milking his cock dry. he’s never deserved nothing so perfect but he seemingly got you, always putting his pleasure before your own, treating rindou’s heart like the most precious glass and how you seemingly combine both things so flawlessly until he is putty in your hands. even now as rindou clings to your body, larger arms wrapping against your waist, moaning into your neck while he cums hard, shuttering as the orgasm rocks his body—you take it so beautifully, happily whining for more of his seed in your greedy hole. <3

𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢; he’s never experienced first hand what it felt like to allow his body to someone else—not like this, your lips wrapped around his cock while you slowly bob your head, inui soft moans encouraging you to dip your head down lower until you feel your nose hits his soft stomach. “princess, please” inui whines, involuntary bucking his hips into your face which you find so adorable, “m’gonna cum” he slurs to his mantra of moans, shakily gripping your head while his pretty white seed finally shoots down your throat. “s-so much” inui sighs, releasing his grip on you to watch the excess cum drip from your swollen lips, it doesn’t take much for inui to push you back on his cock—he’d give you all of him every time knowing you swallow his cum like a good girl and always make him feel so fucking good. <3

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐲𝐮; chifuyu isn’t the type to want a family per say but he sure fucks you like he wants one, constantly filling your hole to the brim with his thick seed, pushing your thighs to meet your heaving chest and the ungodly groans leaving his lips when your pussy is smeared with the leftover juices of him—and you. “yeah pretty girl stay just like that, gotta keep all the cum in for me, okay?” chifuyu smiles softly, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead. his saccharine lips moist from his tongue ghosting over them, he lingers his gaze down pressing his red, angry tip right back into your abused hole, “wanna see you all pretty and swollen with my kid—take all of this cum like i know you can.” chifuyu wasn't wanting children but his obsession with fucking his cum into you is just so addicting he has no other choice. <3

𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚; kinda forgets how to breathe when he’s face first in your pussy, slurping and moaning like a needy whore whenever your juices saturate his cheeks, coat his fingers and the high pitched whines of his name. kazutora needs oxygen, his head is swarming from the lack of air but he can’t stop making you cum on his tongue. it's an adrenaline rush—an addictive taste he probably can’t live without. kazutora is without a doubt pussy drunk, digging his nails into the plush of your thighs, ignoring your body being sent into overstimulation and squirting all on his face—now he’s messy, filthy with his saliva and your juices smeared and the sheets below you are soaking wet. and this is just kazutora when he eats you out but fucking you? he doesn’t even know what breathing is at that point. <3

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧; “where are you going?” draken groans in your ear, sinking his fingers into your thighs before he yanks your body back under him, “who said i was done with you, pretty?” his voice lightens but draken is serious—seriously indebted in fucking you, imprinting his cock on your walls, rolling your clit on his calloused fingertips. sometimes he forgets how much your pussy needs him—how much you need him but thankfully he’s always there to remind you, folding your limbs almost immobile, thrusting his hips until the pace is sloppy and your cunt squelches an obscene mess and when he finally sees that creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock—he knows but just for safe measures, draken is going to fuck you dumb and incoherent of everything except him making you cum. <3

Heyyy, first time doing this lol.Anyways, I loved your Frankenbaby fic it was hilarious and fluffy at the same time. I wanted to ask you tho, do you believe that reader is friends - or at least kind of civil-with werewolfDraken, or does she hate him cause he hurts Hanma.(Hope u can understand what I'm saying, English isnt my 1st language). Have a lovely day btw !!!

Hey! So glad you enjoyed the fic first of all, and yes! I understand what you're trying to say perfectly.

Honestly whether or not the reader is friends with Draken is up to the reader's interpretations, but personally I believe they're civil to each other at the very least, especially because the reader knows Hanma has a tendency to look for AND cause trouble.

I'd like to think if the reader were to cross paths with the werewolf, she'd apologize on Hanma's behalf for being so troublesome at times.

・✿・ Squishmallow ・✿・

 Synopsis: calling the bonten trio your little "squishmallow"

Warnings: established relationship, slightly suggestive(?), making out in Rindou’s bit, mostly fluff though

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

・୨ ✦ ୧・ Rindou

After a long day of working hard, Rindou wanted to do nothing more than to bask in the affection of his significant other, you. It all started out as an innocent cuddle session before things slowly escalate into something more heated when you began to straddle him and brought your sweet lips to his. His attempt in trying to release all the pent-up stress during the day became apparent as his movements became rougher and needier.

Much to his disappointment, you pulled away from him with a playful grin stretching across your face. Disappointment quickly turned to curiosity, and before long you brought your hand up to his face and caresses his cheek softly. He leans into your gentle touch, and for a second you could’ve sworn you heard him purr, though if you did, you said nothing of it.

You slide your thumb over to the other side of his face and began to squeeze at his cheeks lightly.

“What?” he said furrowing his brows together.

“You’re like my little squishmallow~” you sang gleefully, and this made the man before you blink in confusion as he feels warmth travel to his cheeks. He averts his demure gaze from you but tries to hide it with an ever-present scowl resting on his lips. “Sure, I’m your little squishmallow” he gruffly says before capturing your lips with his to devour them once more.

・୨ ✦ ୧・ Sanzu

The two of you were watching the television when it happened. Truth be told, you weren’t exactly sure what the man on the telly was droning on about at this point.

You stopped paying attention to a word he said about ten minutes ago, but you continued watching anyway because unlike you, your boyfriend seems to be invested with whatever’s happening on the screen.

“He’s going to get his ass beat, just watch,” he says as he shoves a handful of chips into his mouth.

You let out a short hum in response, even if by now you had no idea what’s going on nor do you care. Shortly after, a man from the audience approaches the man on stage and slapped him as hard as he could. “Told you!” he chimed through a mouthful of chips.

For some odd reason, your attention had been completely pulled away from the TV, as you now avert them to Sanzu’s bicep. Without much of a thought, you reached out to them and pinched at the fat of his skin, causing him to flinch and yelp out. “OW! What the—” he stared at you, annoyed and bewildered mixing together at the same time. “The hell was THAT for?!” you all but giggled in return. “’m sorry baby” you cooed as you leaned in to cling to his arm.

“You just looked so squishy… like a lil’ squishmallow!”

What a squishmallow was, he did not know, but he couldn’t help but snicker at the silly nickname. “The hell does that even mean, you weirdo” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to him, pressing your warm body against his as the two of you continue to watch the drama that’s happening in front of you.

・୨ ✦ ୧・ Ran

Last night had been a long one for the both of you, and in the morning as you woke, neither of you wanted to get up and start the day—especially since today the two of you have your day off. Ran was mindlessly scrolling through his phone, whilst you lay on top of him, having his slender fingers comb through your hair with his unoccupied hand. His gentle strokes were slowly lulling you back to sleep, but even if today was your day off, you couldn’t afford to lay in bed and do nothing all day.

So instead, you try to find a way to entertain yourself. Slowly your hand creeps up under Ran’s shirt and squeezes gently at the skin of his waist. He didn’t giggle or wince away because he wasn’t a ticklish person, but instead turned to you, waiting for you to explain what the meaning of your action was. “Mind telling me what that’s about princess?” he finally asked when you gave him no such explanation.

“I just wanted to squish my little squishmallow is all!” you chirped as you flashed him a cheerful smile. He burst into a fit of laughter upon hearing the absurd nickname you had given him. He’s been called many things in the past, like the ruler of Roppongi for instance, but ‘squishmallow’ was certainly not one he’s been called before. “I’m your little squishmallow am I?” his voice sounded like he was taunting you, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over so that you’d be laying under him as he hovers above you. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around sweetheart?” he whispers huskily next to your ear as he squeezes the supple skin of your thigh.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

A.N: my friend used the word squishmallow yesterday and I thought it was the cutest word ever

“My little baby isn’t a baby anymore“

“Your mother and I talked about you everyday”

@richardiancox THANK YOU KING!!!

🌼

Title: What’s Taking A Life or Two? (If It Means Getting to Keep You)

Pairing: Hanma Shuji/Female Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: DC, MDNI AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI! Reader illustrates past sexual assault/violence (non-con), and physical violence from her ex. Mentions of a scarification kink, definite manga spoilers if you even care at this point lol, night terrors, and hanma calls reader a c*cksleeve.

A/N: Sorry this took so long guys, I've already started working on the next one. Hoping to get things out sooner this next time around. Thank you to both @kentimestwo and @rosesandtoshi for looking over this piece <3

Part 7 (prev) / Master Post / Part 8 (here)

Nightmares are a norm for you; waking up in a cold sweat, tears falling down your temples and into your ears. Shuddering breaths and cottonmouth are familiar companions to your abrupt awakening.

When you were a toddler, you would cry out for your parents in the middle of the night when a nightmare ripped you from your sleep. Sometimes, if things were nearly petrifying, you would wake up wailing, screaming bloody murder, but you didn’t do that anymore. It had nothing to do with being stronger or older, but everything to do with the real life nightmare you had lived.

Matsumoto Souta is the paralysis demon in your dreams, and for a while you could keep him at bay. Hanma keeps your brain preoccupied. With him, you aren’t scared of someone kicking you until your ribs are broken or knotting their fingers up in your hair to use you like a rag doll. Except now, having seen him and been a victim of his antics once again, you’re thrashing in your sleep, screaming out as tears fall freely.

Hanma tries desperately to hold on to you, arms wrapped tightly around your body as he shouts your name over the sounds of wailing.

“You’re safe!” He yells. “I’ve got you, you’re safe!”

Slowly, through sheer force of will and repetitive words of calming affirmations, you settle in his arms with shuddering sobs.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, turning to face him. “S-so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His hands are on your face now, brushing away the tear tracks as he lays next to you. “You have them too?”

You sniff. “Unfortunately.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“They hadn’t been that bad.” It isn’t really a lie. “The thrashing’s new.”

“Caught me in the chest with an elbow.” He’s smiling, but it upsets you. Before you can apologize, his fingertips cover your lips. “ Don’t .”

“Yes, sir.” You mutter instead, and then he replaces his fingers with his lips long enough to make your eyes flutter shut along with his. “A reward?”

Hanma hums. “For the prompt reply.”

The gentleness of the moment trickles down into one of quiet touches and soft kisses. The tranquility of the moment unlocks a hatch in your throat that locks away the name of the man you dislike with every fiber of your being. Hanma’s touch coaxes the heavy thing open.

“He talked about you.” You whisper, cracking an eye open to peer at him.

His eyes open. “Who?”

“Souta, um, Matsumoto. My ex. When I saw him at the party, he tried to use you to mess with me.”

“How?”

“He said we were a bad match.” You chuckle, and the sound makes you cringe. “And how you had a revolving door of women before me.” You swallow, hoping your spit lubricates the bone dry feel of your throat. “All those little cocksleeves squeezing the cum right outta him.”

“He said that?”

Your eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

Hanma smirks. “He isn’t wrong.”

“Fuck you.” With a grimace, you turn over to face away from him.

It makes him chuckle. “Come on,” he says, cuddling back up to you. “Is that all he said?” He kisses your shoulder.

“No.” You don’t elaborate.

“Are you mad at me now?”

“I don’t like you.”

“No,” he kisses your shoulder. “You don’t.” His hand slides across your bare stomach, tugging you back against him. “You love me though.” You feel his smile against your skin. “It’s alright, baby, you’re the only cocksleeve for me.”

It’s a joke. A tiny ribbing. But Souta’s words had dug up something you thought was deeply buried in dirt inside your chest, and the teasing made it feel like the muk was being tossed back in your face.

“He asked if you beat me for not sucking your dick like he did.” Any sort of movement or playful touch from Hanma grows still. “And he did, Shuji. He would slap me. Kick me. Rip my hair out of my head. Anything to make me cry or scream, he would do it.”

Your voice grows quieter as the words fall, and the wall you’re fixated on morphs. Images of someone black and blue with splatters of red across their body takes its shape.

“He’d collect money from some guys in the operation so they could watch me blow him. ‘Suck me off while they watch, stupid cunt.’” Your fingers curl into the sheets as your body tries to fold in on itself. “And when I’d say no—because I always said no—he’d start hitting me. Then he’d wait until I couldn’t resist anymore to force his cock down my throat.”

Hanma makes sure you’re finished speaking before working your body back open. His palm slides down along your thigh, pressing it down to straighten your leg out, then does the same to the other. Your hands are next—their curled up grip on the sheets and the pillowcase is loosened, gently and slowly. He eases you on your back and hovers over you, one forearm holding himself up as he gazes down at you.

“Do you remember what I said today?”

It takes a moment for your eyes to focus on him and the soft touches to your stomach. His eyes are gentle, but there’s a harsh edge to them. It isn’t directed at you, but someone else he can’t quite yet get his hands on. Still, the threat looms like a thundering cloud in the distance.

“Which part?” You ask.

“When I held your hand.” He takes it again, laying your palm flat against his chest. “What did I say?”

“You said they won’t touch me again.”

Hanma leans down, lips ghosting yours. He whispers, “Do you trust me?”

With a smile, your eyes slip shut. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Shuji’s kiss is sweet, and yet filled with destructive promise.

The next day sees an angry Haitani in the house. Rin comes over annoyed and complaining because he wasn’t part of the meeting with South.

“Can’t believe you didn’t have me sit in with you. Sanzu was there instead?” He scoffs. “He doesn’t even like you.”

“I don’t care if he does or not. Why are you upset?” You bunched your shirt up underneath your chest and your pants are down slightly. “I didn’t need an entire entourage there.”

Rin’s helping to change your bandage while Shuji’s out on other business. Despite his annoyance, he’s being kind. Sort of.

“This is gross.” You can practically hear the grimace in his words. “Have you seen this?”

“I’ve seen it in the mirror,” you sigh.

“Absolutely disgusting,” he says, while placing the new bandage over the nearly healed wound.

“Rindou, I’m seriously thinking about stabbing you in the back and seeing how pretty you look after.”

“Oh, I’d look fucking spectacular, Princess.” As you fix your clothes, you turn to see him smirking and his hands gesturing down his person. “Scars on this body? I welcome them.”

You scrunch your face up playfully. “Ew, is that a scarification kink? You fuckin’ weirdo.”

Rin gasps dramatically. “Are you kink shaming me?”

“Yes, Definitely.”

He laughs, ruffling your hair as he does. “It’s healing nicely. Get checked out again, ok? Don’t let it get infected.”

“Ah, Hanma’s been helping me with cleaning it. He’s been rather attentive.” You disappear into the Kitchen, Rin following close behind with the remnants of his first aid. “Lately, he won’t leave until he’s made sure I was taken care of.”

Rin dumps the old bandaging and washes his hands before slightly giggling to himself. “To think he’d allow me the honor of touching you.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, handing him a towel. “But I’m fairly surprised.”

He watches you with curious eyes as you fall into a thought formed from his kiss last night. Shuji’s eyes were different after you told him the abridged version of your grueling time with Matsumoto. When he left this morning, kissing you on the temple as he rushed out the door. You don’t know if it was to find Souta himself or if he found some kind of lead to the larger part of the situation.

A thumb is pressed between your eyebrows, and you blink back to the present.

“I can see the gears turning. What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” Rin’s got the towel you handed him tossed over his shoulder as he smiles softly at you. “Do you think your husband in insanity is doing unspeakable things right now?”

“No, uh.” You shake your head, turning to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I don’t want him acting rashly on my account. He doesn’t think straight when he’s mad and,” you open the bottle, chugging the liquid down until it’s half gone. You exhale heavily. “And most of the time, it has to do with me.”

Rindou nods. “Come with me for a moment.” He throws the towel on the counter and grabs your wrist. “Let me show you something in the study.”

“What?”

He’s practically dragging you up the stairs and in through the heavy door that opens into the study you spend all of your time in. “There’s a box in here,” he says. “One Hanma locked up when he was younger.”

You’re plopped down in Hanma’s incredibly lavish, but horribly uncomfortable desk chair, and watch as Rindou roots around behind books. He mumbles to himself as he does, trying to find whatever box he’s referring to. Something you would have never sought because the thought of Hanma having an item he didn’t want anyone to see never crossed your mind. He had always been unabashedly open and forthcoming with all of his thoughts and feelings. What was so important about the contents of this box that he strayed from the normal path?

A loud noise of triumph comes from Rin as he pushes a fake piece of the wall to the side. Hidden behind a few large, leather-bound books is a medium-sized wooden box with a small metal latch on its front. There’s nothing special about it, nothing that stands out to you as a secret Hanma needed to hide. If Rindou hadn’t pulled it from inside the wall, you wouldn’t have thought twice about it and its contents.

He places it down on the desk in front of you. “Hanma got caught up in someone else before you.”

The words make your heart seize in your chest. “Another woman?”

“No, he’s never taken another woman as seriously as he has you.” He taps the top of the box. “Open it.”

“So it was a man?” You blink, processing, and then a slow smile appears on your face. “Interesting.”

Rin rolls his eyes. “No, that is not what I meant! Yes, it was a guy, but not like that.”

“Hey,” you shrug, flicking open the latch and slowly opening its lid. “I wasn’t judging.”

Inside the box are small mementos and wrinkled letters. A pair of shattered gold-framed glasses and an earring lay on top of everything. Gingerly, you set those two things aside on the desk and begin looking through the miscellaneous things underneath. Letters between friends, brothers, comrades–words exchanged before gang wars and secret plans. Things you would want no one to see, things you would not normally write in case they fell into the hands of the enemy. Things only teenagers would do.

After reading through the fourth letter of hurriedly written words, you look up. “What is all this stuff, Rindou?”

“It was kind of fucked up, honestly. Hanma explained things to us once he joined Bonten. Kisaki Tetta, the guy those things are from, made Hanma his servant, of sorts.” You look back down at the letters in your hands. The banter and camaraderie you’ve read in their words so far tells you something different. “I guess they became friends at some point,” Rindou runs his fingers through his hair, not understanding his own statement. “Because Hanma actually enjoyed the shit Kisaki had him do.”

You settle the letters neatly back into the box and pick up the badly broken glasses. “I’m assuming things didn’t end well for Kisaki.”

“Not at all. He manipulated Mikey, murdered his sister Emma, and tried to organize the murder of a woman who he was in love with because she didn’t love him.”

Your eyes go wide as his words continue. “How did, um–If Hanma had been part of Kisaki’s terror, then why…?”

“Why did Mikey let him in?” You nod. “Well,” he shrugs. “I’m sure you’re more than aware of how Hanma isn’t good at being on his own. Mikey figured if he added him to the fold, then he could monitor him.”

It makes sense. In the time you’ve been here, your role in Hanma’s life has always been one of a caretaker. Yes, he gave you a home, a roof over your head, but he initially kept you around to entertain him. To get rid of the boredom he’s never been able to keep it bay.

“Did Mikey kill him?”

Rindou shakes his head. “He died when we were teenagers.” He walks to the window and squints out into the brightness of the afternoon sun. “Hanma took a lot of hits for Kisaki, just to keep him out of harm's way. He was like a loyal dog, best friends, until the fucker got hit by a car.”

You gasp. “Holy fuck,” the earring and glasses are placed neatly back in the box. “Did Hanma see it happen?”

“No,” he says, turning back to look at you. “At least I don’t think so, but he saw him after it happened. A lot of broken bones, limbs twisted in odd positions. It fucked him up. He joined us after that.” Rindou walks back to the desk and takes the box from you to put it back where he found it. “I think he still visits his grave every year.”

The cuticle around your thumb is torn and bloody. Unconsciously, you’ve picked at the pieces of skin it burned. You take a deep breath in.

“Why did you show me this?”

“To show you how much Hanma Shuji cherishes someone, even after death.” His back is to you while he meticulously fixes the things he’s disturbed. “Most of us would kill someone for the person we love, but Hanma?” Rin turns around and his eyes anchor you in place. “Hanma would burn the world down for you, Princess.”

You remain quiet after that, unable to say another word. You’ve never had a conversation quite this serious with Rindou. It’s always been easy banter and nothing heavier than work. Looking at the adult in front of you, it’s hard to remember he–and everyone else in Bonten–had to grow up more than a decade ago.

“Hey,” Rin calls to get your attention. “I’m supposed to stay with you tonight. Kakucho’s coming by later, too.”

He sees it in your eyes that you already know. The inkling you had in the kitchen wasn’t so much of a simple ‘bad feeling’ anymore. You stand to look out the window and start to ring your hands.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly, vulnerability clawing at your throat as you try not to cry. “I don’t like not being by his side.”

Rin places a hand on your shoulder, but you don’t look away from the orange sky.

“He’ll be alright,” he says.

“I hope so.” You nod, knuckles popping under the pressure of your own strength. “For everyone else’s sake, I hope so.”

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper, head on his shoulder while your fingers dance slowly down his chest.

“Hm?”

“When I was in the hospital, what were you thinking?”

It takes a minute for him to answer. To bend and morph words to fit into the shapes of his feelings. As someone that has always used his fists to speak, learning to articulate things verbally is proving to be a feat. He inhales deeply through his nose.

“I was angry… at your bedside, I said I hated you.” You remain quiet, wanting him to share whatever he will give you. “After being caught up on things, I was sitting there fucking livid. Thinking if I hadn’t been so fucking prideful and vindictive, then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” He audibly swallows. “What if you didn’t wake up? What if you died?” You drift your hand up, fingers stroking the column of his throat. “I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat.” His arm wraps tighter around you, pulling you in. “If you didn’t survive, I wouldn’t have been too far behind you.”

“Well,” you press your cheek firmly onto his chest, turning to nip at the skin. “It sounds like you love me.”

A deep rumble rolls through his ribcage. “Does it now?”

“Mm, but that might be the leftover effects of the painkillers talking and, ya know, getting my hopes up.”

Hanma tilts your chin up and gazes at you. His eyelashes fan delicately against his cheekbones as he does. You smile softly, muttering a quiet ‘hi’ while he looks. After only slight hesitation, he kisses you languidly, tongue sliding between your lips briefly before he bumps his nose against yours.

“Maybe I do love you.”

Your breath hitches.

“Wouldn’t that be a treat?” Hanma kisses your forehead before letting you lie back on his chest. " Remember when you said you could kill me without hesitation?”

Hanma chuckles. “I also told you I wouldn't be lost without you.”

“Yeah, I remember.” You sit up, rearranging yourself to lay on top of him. He’s looking down at your widely grinning face propped against your crossed arms. “What happened to all that?”

“I’m a fucking horrible liar, sweetheart.”

His left hand smooths across your head as you now watch him. Over the years, you’ve learned what the distinct looks in his eyes mean. The boiling rage, the wild frenzy in a fight, the hard exterior, the sincerity. Except for right now. His eyes are relaying something unknown, something you’ve never been allowed to see.

“If you died-,” Hanma shakes his head. “If I lost you, it would devastate me.”

Realization hits. The emotion you haven’t seen before, the anxious movement of his eyes…

Hanma Shuji is afraid .

“Are you bored?”

Mochizuki is cleaning his empty bar. Shards of glass are still littering the floors of his establishment. Thankfully, they had already replaced the window earlier that morning. When he looks up, Hanma is standing behind the bar, fist around the neck of a bottle of bourbon, and sporting a smirk that long misses his eyes.

“Do I look bored to you, Hanma?” Mochi holds up his dustpan and broom. “I’m finding shards and slivers everywhere.” He dumps the glass in the nearby trash before meeting his uninvited guest behind the bar. “Did you snatch the key off our girl or what?”

“Didn’t even know she had a key. That would’ve been convenient.” Hanma raises an eyebrow while he pours both of them three fingers of the amber liquid. “I just busted the handle.”

“Man,” Mochizuki groans and takes the glass Hanma slides to him. “You’re lucky I don’t knock out a few of your teeth for that.”

“I wanted to ask you something.” He states, ignoring Mocchi’s comment completely.

“And what’s that?”

They circle back around to the front of the bar and sit on the stools. Both of them take a sip, allowing the alcohol to settle warmly in their chests and stomachs before one of them speaks again.

“You didn’t tell me how bad it was.” Hanma says in a low tone, side eyeing his companion.

Mochizuki is visibly confused. “How bad what was?”

“What that motherfucker did to her.”

“Ah, Matsumoto.”

“Who fuckin’ else, Mochizuki!?” Hanma’s voice raises with each word. The quietly boiling lava of his emotions now seeping out his cracked edges. “She told me the shit he did to her–how he forced her. How he beat her!”

“I didn’t know everything–still don’t. She didn’t share the details, but I had eyes. I saw the damage done to her. The bad bruising, the cast-,”

“The cast?” Hanma’s grip could fracture the glass in his hand if he squeezed hard enough.

Mochizuki nods, taking another long drink. “He fractured her wrist. I forced her to go to the doc.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?“

“I didn’t even know who the fuck it was. He never came here, and she never gave a name. But I had a few people fuck his shit up a few times.” He shrugs and swirls the bourbon around in the glass. Not caring when some sloshes out. “I’m guessing you want to kill him?”

“You guessed right.” Hanma knocks the rest back, hissing after he swallows. “If I didn’t think he’d get off on it, I’d fuck her right in front of him.”

Mochizuki snorts. “I don’t want to see that shit.”

“Who said you’d be there?”

“You’re fuckin’ stupid if you think I don’t wanna cut off an extremity or two.”

Mocchi looks over at him and grins. After years of knowing and working beside this man, Hanma likes to think he knows a few things. Like how when Mochizuki is working something over in his head, his eyes seem a little farther off and the muscle near the hinge of his jaw tenses to the slow rhythm of a heartbeat. If there’s a glass in his hand—and more often than not when they’re sitting at the bar, there is—his index finger is tapping against its lip every three seconds.

“Kanji,” Hanma says, tapping his own finger against the bar. “If you’ve got something to tell me, spit it out.”

“Alright, fine.” The larger man huffs. “What if I told you I already know where Matsumoto Souta is hiding out?”

Hanma smiles. “Why the hell do you think I’m here in the first place?” Mocchi raises his brow at an increasingly intoxicated and giddy Hanma Shuji. “Hanemiya Kazutora says hello!”

Mochizuki releases a full belly laugh. “I should’ve fuckin’ known!”

Tagging: @chickentendieboi @omiishii @heroineofcolor @hanayanetwork @touyasside @crown5 @onlyshinji

Screencap redraw from his demo! I really want his weapon 😭 give it to me mihoyo!!!!

୨♡୧┈ Tokyo Revengers Characters and Skincare  ┈୨♡୧

Characters: Sanzu, Koko, Inui, Ran, Hanma

Warnings: none;

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・♡・ Sanzu

He hates it… at first. Mostly he hates how limited his options for physical affection became every time you’ve applied skincare. He’d always try to kiss your lips or cheeks, but you’d deny him of said actions because you’d already applied your night creams and lip mask, and he’d give you a childish pout before sulking and grumbling. Though once he tried using skincare himself, he is obsessed.

Granted, you’d scold him now and again because he wouldn’t stop squirming and scrunching his face, and he wouldn’t stop asking questions for God’s sake, but he admitted that it actually felt good and relaxing. So from then on, he would always apply skincare with you. Dare I even say he’s become as high maintenance about it as you are.

・♡・ Koko

Has a skincare routine of his own, believe it or not. He doesn’t have an elaborate skincare routine but his skin is already smooth and clear to begin with, so he doesn’t need a super intricate routine.

Every once in a while, he’d introduce you to a brand that he uses, and would even buy you a luxury brand if he sees you using skincare that he deems to be on the cheaper side. Koko is a busy man, thus he moves at the speed of light even when he’s applying skincare for the night. Hence, he prefers to do it himself rather than letting you do it. Though from time to time, he’ll indulge you if you wish to do it for him.

He'd even do your skincare for you once in a while, though if he’s in a hurry, don’t expect him to be gentle.

・♡・ Inui

LOVES IT. Lives for it. He’s one of the rare male specimens that put on lip balm without doing that weird lip thing men do when they apply lip balm.

Despite loving skincare though, he doesn’t have a routine of his own, unlike Koko. He only started using skincare when you offered to do yours with him, and he enjoyed every second of it. He loved the way your gentle hands made a work of his face, and he especially likes how gentle you are when your fingers would graze over his burn marks. He was so relaxed that he’d almost fallen asleep once but you woke him up by surprising him with a kiss. He’s pretended to fall asleep multiple times afterward just to get you to kiss him again, instead of just asking for a kiss that cheeky bastard.

・♡・ Ran

Has an elaborate skincare routine and sticks to it like a ritual. When he was younger, he’d force Rindou to take care of his skin so that his face wouldn’t be crusty, and he’d even wrestle his brother every time, just to get him to do it until Rindou eventually becomes attached to the routine of doing his skincare.

He was pleasantly surprised when you first asked to do his skincare for him, and from then on, he became addicted. Mans never wanted to do it himself ever again if you were there to do it for him, and the worst part is, he’d be a menace throughout the whole thing. Would try to distract you by giving you looks or grabbing you by your waist, but most of all he loves stealing kisses from you despite you protesting against it.

・♡・ Hanma

An actual menace. Has no knowledge of skincare whatsoever (at least not in his younger years). Will pick up a bottle from your collection of skincare, ask you what it is, and would ALWAYS—without fail—sniff it.

Other than sniffing, he also often attempts to eat the product. You’d scold him for this and his excuse would always be “What?? It smelled like strawberries” or some other type of sweet food skincare products tend to smell like. Same as Sanzu, he would feel bummed out if you push him away as he tries to kiss your cheek, but unlike Sanzu, he wouldn’t pout or sulk. Instead he’d just lick your face because… again… the product smelled sweet. He is and forever will be a menace but we all love him for that don't we.

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we were all Lupita

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