#imi writes for laura

[takenyoomies]

Congrats on 100 Followers Imi!! So deserved ❤️❤️

Coming here to request for the event!!

Can I please have prompt 4? With Shuji Hanma (obviously 😂)?

Genre: can be anything you want it to be but I would ask for suggestive? 🥺

Description: I don't mind. You have entire creative freedom with this! I want to see how you interpret the prompt 😁

Preferably Fem reader but can be gender neutral 😊

Thank you so much and again, congratulations! ❤️❤️❤️

AAA Thank you Laura :3c I'm super thankful for you! And for this prompt... I love writing for Shuji, he's just...??

“L-O-V-E’s just another word I never learned to pronounce.” 100 Follower Event Prompt/Masterlist Title: You Thought This Was Lo- Pairing: Hanma x Reader Genre: Angst Tags: Suggestive themes, Angst, Hanma not keeping his hands to himself™, Hurt with no comfort... WC: 964

It started as a joke between the two of you, really.

When Hanma’s lease had run out, you offered him a place in your spacious two-bedroom apartment, especially since both of you had been friends for years. You knew the two-toned haired man better than most, therefore when he pulled in with his bike that day and a pickup truck containing what few belongings he possessed...the last thing you expected was a tattooed hand that said sin gently caressing your inner thigh while the both of you watched a crumby movie, drank beer, and ate pizza together.

As time continued on, things continued to escalate as you found his hand continually taking swipes at the small of your back as you cooked dinner for the two of you, or even as you leaned over to do laundry, you sometimes felt his fingers ghost down your backside only to turn around and see a smug smirk on his face.

Things had to reach a breaking point for the two of you at some point, and oh, did it ever.

“Where are you going in that?” Hanma questioned one morning as you were heading out the door.

You turned, eyes scanning the man’s face as you raised a questioning brow, fingers pulling on the soft fabric of your tight jean shorts in slight insecurity, “The store?” You finally spoke, head tilting to the side slightly, causing your hair to shift a bit.

He dared to laugh as he stood from the kitchen table, stalking over to you, “Not in that, you’re not.” He pushed the door shut and you up against the frame.

“...Shuji, what are you doing?” You laughed nervously as he leaned into your face.

Humming, his tattooed hand reaching up and holding your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him, “What am I doing...that’s good question…” His husk voice trailing off as he leaned in, capturing your lips.

Mentally, you questioned so many things. Though “why” was the predominant thing as your lips moved against his, your hands carded through his hair, and quiet whimpers left your lips as his hands once again seemed to wander.

As both of you pulled away, panting heavily, you stared into his golden eyes, “Shuji, what are we?”

He snorted, eyes lighting up in wild amusement, “Dunno.”

A pang of hurt ran through your body, pooling into your stomach as he leaned in for another kiss. However, the memories of your roommate, friend, and self-proclaimed bozo slowly filtered back into the forefront of your mind. Slapped cheeks, angry voicemails, begrudgingly asking you how to block numbers, and posting things to the group chat about how to hide evidence. You knew his antics all too well as you reluctantly pulled him closer to you, breathing in the acrid smell of smoke on him.

You wanted to be the exception.

It had been several weeks since that incident. Like clockwork every morning, Hanma would crawl into your bed to “snuggle up” with you. The predicament had begun when he stated his bed was “uncomfortable” and that “his back hurt”. Of course, both of you knew that was a flimsy, made-up lie. However, you couldn’t exactly find a way to refuse when his warm hands slowly kneaded their way into your back at six in the morning before you had to find your way to work.

Those hands often wandered on you when you were reading on the sofa, talking on the phone, putting groceries away...it was like an incessant game of when to expect a hand snaking up your thigh and a suggestive warm breath humming in your ear, asking if you had time for him. But, even with the frequency, it always left your heart leaping as you attempted to form a coherent sentence for him. What’s worse is the jackass always seemed to have that same old-same old lazy, amused smirk on his face. You almost loathed how attractive you’d begun to find it in recent weeks.

As time passed, you noticed there were times where he’d leave for unexplainable periods. It wasn’t uncommon for him. Even before you moved in together, he was considered your friend group’s unofficial-official “flaky friend”. Therefore, him wandering in at odd hours of the night didn’t exactly bother you. It wasn’t until you had come home late yourself and arrived at the same time as him to see him drunkenly struggling to unlock the apartment door.

“Shuji?”

You could tell that you startled the man as his body jumped at the sudden sound of your voice before relaxing, “Oh, Hi Y/N…” His voice slurring slightly as he turned towards you with a lazy smile.

You frowned slightly as you walked towards him, only to be hit with the thick stench of perfume, “Where...have you been?”

He took a moment to ponder his response, turning to continue fumbling with the lock, “Out.”

Crossing your arms in annoyance, you huffed, “That’s not an answer.”

“Wooooooow…” He sighed sarcastically, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside, “I didn’t know this was an interrogation.”

Walking in behind him and shutting the door a bit harder than you should, “It’s not...I just…” You cut yourself off, feeling the familiar burn of tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders and sighing loudly, the dual-haired man turned back towards you, “What, are you my mom now?” He slowly came closer to you before blinking, “Or what...did you think?” He smirked before patting your shoulder and starting back towards his bedroom.

As you heard the door shut softly, you rubbed the few tears out of your eyes. Who were you kidding?

Shuji Hanma didn’t know how to love, let alone how to pronounce the word.

[littlefossa]

small goal for the end of the degree/this summer (if it’s still called summer if we are isolated) is to release a small poetry book; so here’s the current writing playlist:

career day by keaton henson

i see you by phoebe bridges

cayendo by frank ocean

hope we meet again by laura marling

jesus christ 2005 god bless america by the 1975

moon by art school girlfriend

garden song by phoebe bridges

chewing cotton wool by the japanese house

any human friend by marika hackman

small hands by keaton henson

i don’t know how to keep loving you by julia jacklin

imi by bon iver

a boat to an island on a wall by ben howard

romance by ex:re