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#shuji hanma x reader – @zeltqz on Tumblr
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𝐍𝐈𝐘𝐀

@zeltqz / zeltqz.tumblr.com

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Anonymous asked:

have u ever thought about like. making a sex tape with shuji but his sleazy ass sends it to a gang gc and then everybody wants u. or maybe he sent it on accident trying to share it with u. who knows. all i know is everybody wants shuji’s girl 🤤

Hanma barely texts people. The most you'll get from him is a one word answer, or he just likes the message and calls it a day. He leaves almost everyone on delivered, except you and Kisaki. 

Everyone in Kanto Manji expected nothing less from the man in question when they added him to the group chat. He hadn’t spoken in it once and left them all on opened. So you could only imagine the mixture of shock and confusion everyone felt when they woke up to their phones pinging with a video sent from Hanma..

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Anonymous asked:

begging for a jealous/possessive hanma that catches someone hitting on his s/o

  • syn : hanma doesn't like the fact someone's hitting on his girlfriend.
  • cw : nsfw content ahead ⚠︎ - deranged!hanma, death threats, choking, possessiveness, hanma refers to you as his, he almost kills a guy for you, red flag but its shuji so its ok <3
  • length : 900 words
  • a/n : i love my little red flag lmao. also i listened to house of ballons while writing this so its linked under the title if u wanna listen too lol

“Come onnnnnnn. You’re too pretty to be acting like this.” The man nudged you playfully, inching impossibly closer to your sitting form. “At least tell me yer name beautiful.”

You sighed exhaustedly and raised your glass back to your lips, taking a sip of your water. As you swallowed the liquid, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. Yup, he looked like your typical wannabe punk. Someone that thinks everybody and their mamas are scared of in the streets. 

Before dating Hanma, you would’ve been scared of him. They’re known for their violence, threatening any person that dares to even walk past them on the street or look at them sideways. 

The crazed look in his eyes, the tongue piercing, the oddly dyed hair; wannabe punk. 

You put your drink down and motioned to the bartender to refill your cup of water. 

“I’m waiting girl. What’s yer name?” He was met with more silence. You could practically feel his irritation growing. “Stop being sucha bitch and just—”

“I have a boyfriend.” You thanked the bartender as he passed your cup back, filled with water. Taking another sip, you peeked over at him again from the corner of your eye, hoping to see him back away now that he knows the truth. 

But you forget who you’re messing with right now. 

Boyfriend ? I don’t see a boyfriend. Oi!” He motioned over at the bartender, ushering him closer. Once the bartender got close enough, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and brought him closer. “Do you see a boyfriend around here?” The bartender stammered and stuttered, so he clicked his tongue irritatedly and looked back at you. “Is this your boyfriend? Hah?”

You shook your head, remaining utterly calm. “Nope.”

“Exactly.” His voice sounded amused, as if he’d proved you wrong. “What kind of boyfriend would let ya walk outside wearing this, huuuuh?”

You could feel his fingers trailing along your thigh and closed your eyes, counting to ten in your head. In the midst of your counting, his touches got more bold, trailing them up towards the slope of your waist, up and down your arm. 

By the time you got to seven, you gave him three more seconds to get his hands off you, giving him the benefit of the doubt until the touches suddenly stopped.

You opened your eyes and looked to your left to see a long arm wrapped around the mans shoulder, the kanji sin tattooed big on his palm and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“Is there a reason you’re groping my girlfriend, hmm?” Hanma’s voice was sickly sweet and the man went red in the face. 

“No! No reason. Just mistook her, that’s all.” He smiled, showing all his teeth, hoping Hanma would let him off easy. 

“Mistook her?” Hanma hummed, confused. “Baby, did this man mistake you for anyone?”

You looked him deep in the eye for a second and fought back the urge to laugh when his lip started trembling, hoping and pleading in his eyes that you’d lie for him. “Not really. He actually even questioned your existence, Shuji.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did.” You grinned and watched the full fear sprout on his face.

“She’s lyin—” The hand resting on his shoulder quickly moved to his throat, squeezing until you saw veins forming down the length of his arm. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to calm the roaring pulse between your legs as you watched your boyfriend currently choking the fuck out of your harasser, all with a calm smile on his face.

“Don’t kill him Shuji.”

He winked and squeezed a little more until he went red in the face, his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let go. He’s not worth it Shuji.”

“He touched what’s mine. Death would be the easy way out for him.” As if to prove his point, he began squeezing tighter and you knew if you didn’t stop him, you’d see the light in his eyes slowly fade. 

The chair squeaked as you slid off it and walked up to your boyfriend. “Shuji. Let go. He’s not worth it,” you repeated, voice a little firmer. 

Shuji had a deadpan look on his face as he stared at you, as if examining how serious you were. If he were to kill him right now, cleanup wouldn’t be an issue, your attitude would be. You’d stop talking to him for at least a week and ignore all his advances which would piss him the fuck off. 

“You’re so fucking lucky I want some pussy tonight,” Shuji said lowly in the man’s ear before letting go. 

The man dropped to the floor, coughing and holding his throat. 

You smiled and stepped over his crouched form, over to your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Love you Shu’.”’

“Mhm whatever.” He bent down to your level and kissed your lips. His hands gripped onto your waist, holding your tight and making you giggle into his lips. “Next guy that looks at you though, I won’t be so kind.”

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Anonymous asked:

Hey this is my first time requesting , can you make a angst where hanma treats his girlfriend ( reader ) like shit and cheats on her constantly and the reader loves him so much , but one day reader decides to leave without telling shuji and just leaves a note in their shared apartment and when hanma sees it he realises that he treated reader harshly and tries to find her to apologise but reader doesn't care anymore . Make it angsty pls , sorry if it's too long

a long request calls for a long fic haha

enjoy this 8k long ass fic mwahhhhh

feckless | hanma shuji

/ˈfɛkləs/ lacking initiative or strength of character; irresponsible.

pairing. fwb!hanma x fem!reader

featuring. kazutora hanemiya, hinata tachibana, hanma shuji, takemichi hanagaki

word count. 8.5k

content. hurt/comfort, angst, one sided pining, weed mention, smoking, explicit sexual content, toxic relationship with hanma, he ghosts you alot, and you just take it, low self esteem reader

This particular Thursday afternoon, the sun shines blindingly bright, warming your back as you kick a stone in front of you every step you make. It’s not a far walk to your house from the mall; shopping bags in one hand, phone in the other.

As the sun is setting, the streets are partially empty, minus the few cars driving past, and the silence is deafening.

You stop just at the end of the road, seeing traffic building up across the road towards your house. They must be doing more construction.

With a hefty sigh, you turn the other way, walking down a thick alleyway that runs behind your street. This is only a route you take when you’re in desperate needs. Though it’s much faster than the main street, it’s also smellier and darker. 

You stop in your tracks and that’s when you see it.

A few grunts, thuds, and the sound of what is definitely a fist punching someone in the stomach. The poor guy, around seventeen, maybe, if his school uniform was anything to go off of, was now laying on the floor, clutching his stomach, groaning in pain as someone much taller, lankier, makes a show of dropping to sit on his back.

He idly smokes a cigarette like he isn’t currently stopping the flow of oxygen and blood of the poor guy beneath him.

“How boring ,” he sighs, lifting the cigarette from his lips to blow a puff of smoke into the air. “Thought you’d be able to entertain me with all that shit you was talkin’.”

“I—argh—I can’t breathe—”

“Hmmm,” the guy hums and the sound vibrates through the alley, rippling it’s way through your body. “And what do you expect me to do ‘bout that?”

The boy couldn’t verbally respond, nor formulate a perfect sentence, only able to respond in grunts and groans and the sound of his lungs desperately searching for air.

If you don’t step in, you’d have to live with yourself forever, knowing you just witnessed this man commit a murder and nothing was done about it.

It takes a moment to uncurl your fingers from the shopping bag, your body trembling, feet heavy as your lungs match the jagged, unsteady rhythm of your breathing before you’re walking over towards the man.

Stopping right next to him, it feels like forever until he lazily turns his head to look up at you.

His eyebrow arches, face filled with nothing but interest as he lets his eyes rake down your body.

It’s like he knows he’s making you uncomfortable, because the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a smile when you shift uneasily on your feet.

“And you are?” His voice is slack and lazy, dragging his words on sluggishly as he blinks at you.

It feels like minutes, hours, days have passed with how long it takes your brain to co-operate with you. “I—I’m—”

The poor dude on the floor tries to lift the guy off his back, gathering every inch of strength he has left in his weak body to try shrug him off, but the sadist on top of him only raises his hand (and it is huge, what the fuc—), and slams it down on his head, applying pressure until his chin smacks painfully against the floor.

“Can’t you see the young lady is tryna speak?” He asks him before letting go of his head, removing his cigarette from his lips, holds them with two fingers and you watch as he brings the cigarette in front of his eyes. The orange lit bud at the end sends flickers of ash into the air. “Do your eyes me to burn some energy into ‘em? Huh?”

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