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#jjk hiromi
salmonpoki · 2 months
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Relatable.
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pseudowho · 4 months
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The Widow's Keeper
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(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)
Marrying again after losing your husband in Shibuya was never part of your plan. Then, Higuruma Hiromi came along.
Warnings: Character death, grief, angst, fluff
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A hysterical shriek-- a frantic cry for a man long dead-- rang through the bedroom, enveloped in the dark warmth of night, and broke down into anguished sobs. A soft shout of alarm, and hurried reassurances, sobs muffled, hands stroking, soothing, kisses on foreheads.
Hiromi held you to his chest, his pyjama top damp with your tears, his eyes gritty from sudden wakefulness. You cried away your grief, still so raw, replaying over and over in your dreams-- taunting you with 'what if's and 'if only's. Hiromi's nose nuzzled into your hair, both arms tightly holding you lest you fall apart against him, mumbling his sweet love in humid little breaths to your head.
It had been a while since you had dreamed of Nanami Kento, he pondered, rocking you gently from side-to-side. Dead and buried for almost 4 years now, Hiromi had married you and your trauma, your loss, your fallen love. He had taken you as the package you were, a complex parcel, and the mother of the second love of his life.
Little footsteps approached the door; little hands, cautious against the cool wood, pushed it open with a squeak.
"Mummy? Daddy? Is it a bad dream? You woke me up," grumbled your little girl, blonde and brown-eyed, with sharp delicate features. You sat up hurriedly, wiping your eyes and plastering on a damp smile. As you began moving to get out of bed, Hiromi laid a gentle hand on your thigh, kissing you on the temple.
"I'll take it from here," he hushed, and you sniffled, threatening tears again, "go back to sleep. I love you."
Planting a watery kiss to Hiromi's lips, you laid down in bed, burrowing your nose into his pillow, his smell, always feeling your adoration for him with the sting of guilt.
Hiromi scooted to the door, his loud shuffling footsteps pretending to be sneaky as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, nosing at her with deliberate snuffles. She giggled, batting him away, capturing his face in her little hands, slanted eyes narrow and delighted.
"Back to bed, little one. Your teddies can't sleep without you." Hiromi's playful bargaining wasn't needed, his daughter half-asleep in his arms already, while her arms wound around his neck to snuggle her head under his chin. By the time he had tucked her back into bed, she breathed soft snores, her bed still warm from the nest she had made.
Hiromi crouched by your daughter's bed, watching her, committing all of her features to memory; never this small, ever again, he thought, bittersweet as she grew, blooming. He stroked her hair, nursing the stale guilt of feeling he had stolen this life from another man, and feeling so deeply undeserving, so ashamed because of it.
While Hiromi knew his daughter-- your daughter, Kento's daughter-- more than Kento ever would, there felt to be an impenetrable wall to his love, an absence of a blood bond, stolen away from a man who did not want to leave his wife, and had not even known he was to become a father. Hiromi felt responsible, as if he had spirited you both away himself. He did not deserve to hold you through your grief; he did not deserve to be daddy.
Planting a last kiss to his daughter's forehead, a long-fingered hand stroking blond flicks out of her eyes, Hiromi tiptoed to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed back. A brown teddy with its familiar, well-fiddled-with and far-too-large-for-teddies yellow leopard-spotted tie, belonged in his daughters' arms, and not on the floor.
Padding back to your bedroom, a thief in the night, the sheets played a gentle susurrus over your bodies as Hiromi tangled his legs through yours, lying on his back so you could tuck across his chest. You slipped a hand under his t-shirt, travelling up to his chest to stroke its patch of downy black hair. Hiromi's fingers tangled through your hair, examining the whorls of your ear, rolling your earlobe in thought.
"I'm so sorry," you hiccuped into Hiromi's chest, and you heaved with sobs when his reassurance began before you had even finished apologising, his arms tightening around you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting it, look at me, come on darling, please, look at me.
Hiromi held your face, your cheeks squashed and blotchy with tears in his palms. He felt a trickle of disgust with himself run down his throat, as he stole his role as your hero from Kento, "None of that. You know you don't have to apologise for anything--"
"But I love him," you sobbed, voice cracking with devastated guilt, feeling like a filthy liar, a cheater, a bigamist, "I love him so much and I want him back, but I want you, Hiro, I-- I--" Hiromi nodded, still gazing into you, hooded dark eyes like little embers in the night. You felt a surge of appreciative, grateful love as he drank down your proclamations of love for another man, and wanted you anyway.
"If it were the other way round," Hiromi started, slow and deliberate, "if it were me who had died, and Kento loved you after...I would trust him completely to carry the torch for me. To give you two everything that I wouldn't be able to give."
You wept again, your face and chest aching, loss heavy in your soul. Hiromi kept you close, tethering you, repeating in a tender mantra; "You can love us both. You can love us both, because we both love you. You can love us both."
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"I...I'm not very good at this sort of thing."
Hiromi's words fell weakly, unanswered by the dead. Nanami Kento's grave was pristine under the hands of his many friends, his lover, his students, those he had saved. He was popular in death as he had been in life; not inundated with true friends, but awash with bannermen and admirers, those who aspired to be like him, and those who aspired to be liked by him. An admission of guilt writhed in Hiromi's chest, bursting out in one strained cry.
"I can't feel sad that you died," Hiromi spat, disgusted not with Kento, but with himself, "because if you hadn't died, I wouldn't have them, and I'm a real piece of shit--"
"No you're not," a friendly voice drawled to Hiromi's left. Hiromi froze, eyes wide and paralyzed, dread creeping through him that someone had heard his biggest shame--
"-- and Nanami wouldn't have thought so, either. I bet she was the last thing he thought about-- worrying about her, who would look after her. He'd be happy. For her to have a good man. Like you."
Ino Takuma leaned down beside Hiromi, speaking a brief prayer above Kento, a wrapped, spotted blunt blade harnessed onto his back. Placing some fresh flowers down, he stood up again.
Hiromi and Ino were silent together amongst the rustling willows, the smooth dappling sunlight, the whispering babble of the shallow river. Ino rocked on his heels, smiling, hands pocketed. Hiromi hung his head in shame.
"You can...you can feel both, Higuruma. Regret for him dying and leaving her, and...and loving her, I guess. You're not a bad person. I bet she beats herself up for marrying again, right?"
Hiromi swallowed, nodding quickly after a breath's pause. Images flitted across his mind-- you, resplendent in your gown. Your daughter, so solemn on her big day, scattering petals down the aisle. Your earnest kiss, your joyful dancing, your gracious speech. Your wedding night breakdown, holding you in a hot bath in innocent intimacy, folding your lingerie away in favour of a soft nightdress, nothing expected, nothing lost, in life and in death, in sickness and in health.
"You've just...you've just got to be his wingman, y'know?" Ino stated, arms crossed up behind his balaclava'd head, "You and Nanami...you're both her husband. You're both my niece's dad. So big him up a bit for us, huh?"
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"Hey, dad?"
Hiromi leaned round the fridge door, crows feet crinkling around his eyes as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, busted.
His daughter smirked at him, fine eyebrows raised under a smooth honey-blonde fringe. As tall as Hiromi, leggy and sarcastic, Hiromi didn't so much tell this young woman off now, as get savagely roasted by her dry wit. Hiromi took it with all of the frustrated joy of a father trying to parent a young woman with unparentably excellent traits.
"Cheese?" Hiromi offered, flicking a cube deftly at his daughter. She caught it, seamlessly, eyes narrowing at him. For all the bravado she was putting on, Hiromi knew she was putting it on. He headed over, pulling her to him with one arm, blonde head against black-grey head.
"Penny for them?"
She sighed, and began: "Did you...meet him?"
Him. Ah.
"I did not," Hiromi admitted, "but I know he was exceptional. Your mother has wonderful taste." He accepted the slap to his arm, well-deserved.
"I can never...I don't think I'll ever be as good as him." Hiromi's heart swelled and ached for his daughter; he felt an odd kinship, one of them in such a powerful shadow, one of them in such enormous shoes. Hiromi nodded, his throat thick.
"You're right," he said, his daughter's lips puckering up in grim acceptance, looking at the floor, "your dad was a hero. He protected the weak when nobody else wanted to. He took on the messy jobs with nothing more than a glass of whiskey and your mum's love behind him. He was funny, kind, patient, empathetic... he was the best of the best. The best sort of man. He's a legend even now."
"So, no, sweetheart, you're never going to be as good as him," Hiromi turned to his daughter, cupping her high-cheeked face in his hands, pressing her to look at him, "you're going to be better. You have all three of us in you, and you carry it so well."
Hiromi's daughter let out a dry sob, refusing to let tears fall. She sniffled, pulling close to Hiromi, letting herself be held. Rubbing her nose and pulling her hair behind one ear, she reached behind her onto a chair, revealing a black, rectangular handled case.
"Uncle Ino gave me something, today," she started, unclipping the case, "he said it was dad's. I thought I...I want to use it. Like he did."
Hiromi gazed fondly down at the blade of legends, white wrapping yellowed at the edges with age, but still just as deadly. He smiled, and your daughter relaxed into his wordless reassurance.
"Yes. Absolutely. It's the only...you're the only one who could do this old thing justice, now," Hiromi pressed, eager to hold Kento and his child together across the impenetrable veil of death, "but I have to warn you."
His daughter glanced to Hiromi, anxious. He took a deep breath, and continued;
"Your mother will cry when she sees this."
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A few tears slipped out while I wrote this.
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kenm4vhs · 4 months
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nanami to yuji: higuruma to yuji:
"you've got it "i'll leave the rest
from here" to you"
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credits to: @/Toto52785638
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teatreeoilll · 3 months
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𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲 (𝗛𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗫 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿)
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w/c - 2.6k content - MDNI! 18 +, fem!reader, porn with plot, asking a man in a suit to not take it off when he fucks you, not proofread because it's so late rn, hope I'll get to it tomorrow
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When Higuruma Hiromi finished climbing up the stairs, moving slowly and sighing until he finally reached his apartment, the walls around the floor were already rhythmically humming.
"Fucking hell," It took every single ounce of strength in his body to turn away from his own door and turn to knock on the neighbors'.
Goddamn it, not him again, you think as you unlock the door, wincing at the passing thought of ever finding the grumpy, tired man waiting outside of your apartment in any way attractive.
"Yes?" You utter, cross-armed with a fake smile glazing your lips.
He stares into the space behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes, "I'm sorry to bother you," you should be sorry for bothering me, "I know we've had this discussion before," about a million goddamn times, "but if you wouldn't mind," before I go insane, "turning down the music?"
"Listen," you drawl, mimicking his calm tone through gritted teeth, "we talked this through already. It's still early, and it's not against the law to listen to music at a reasonable volume in my own apartment."
Higuruma's eye twitched at the words, still trying to retain a neutral expression. The law? You're bringing up the law? Now, Higuruma Hiromi didn't consider himself a proud man, but the next words to come out of his mouth made his self-respect plummet, "I'm sorry, it's just that ever since my wife died, I've been having trouble sleeping."
You blink slowly, your arms dropping to the sides of your body, "O-oh," you babbled, "I'm so sorry, I didn't - I - " the heat rises to your cheeks, "I'm so sorry, uh, I didn't catch your name - "
"Higuruma Hiromi," he adds.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Hiromi; I'll turn it down."
That evening, Hiromi sinks on the sofa like he's carried by angel's wings, relishing in the serene, tranquil, long-awaited silence. But something itches at the back of his mind; he spent too many days in court to know that a lie will always come back to bite.
-
"Shit," you hiss as your groceries hitting the building's floor, apples rolling on the tiles beneath you. "Stupid apples," you grumble as you stoop down, desperately trying to stuff them into your overflowing bag.
"Do you need help?" A voice behind you asks.
"It's fine," you breathe, catching another rolling apple in your hand, "I'm just here, uh, cussing at the fruit."
"I can see that," and Hiromi crouches down to help you, the fabric of his suit rustling as his pale fingers help you pick up the things off the floor.
You unlock your door, pushing it in with your shoulder, and your neighbor follows suit into your apartment.
"Where do I - " Hiromi stands at the entrance, his arms packed with your shopping.
"Oh - uh, " you walk to the kitchen counter, "right here is fine," you fix your gaze on the man unloading your shopping, a strand of hair falling on his forehead as he does. "Thank you."
After he finished, his eyes turn to find yours, and you're not quite sure why you're staring or at what, with your gaze rolling from his suit to his dark eyes, but you manage to conclude that, strangely enough, it's not unnatural to see him standing in your kitchen.
A long moment of silence graces the room before he finally utters, "It's nothing."
You thank him three more times while he exits your apartment, and he brushes off each one. It's only after he leaves that you notice the rapid pace of your heart, and you walk to the mirror to look at your face, standing before it for a moment, wondering how long it has been since you've turned this deep shade of crimson.
-
Oh god, you're so nice.
"I've brought them up for you, I hope you don't mind," you smile at your neighbor, bent over in your too-tight lounge shorts to put a stack of letters near his door, "they just seemed to be piling up."
"You really didn't have to," He mutters, crouching to meet you at the bottom of his door, gathering the letters in his hands.
But you just kept the smile on your face, so soft and considerate the pangs of guilt overturned his stomach. "Oh, and - uh," is my face growing red? "I - I baked some cookies, I mean," you falter, "I mean, I baked too many cookies. Would you like some?"
Maybe he is attractive, your neighbor, with his soft and tired dark eyes; or maybe it's the depth of sorrow you thought resided in them that made the need to help him grow.
It would be rude to decline, wouldn't it? "S-sure," he says - But it's immoral to agree, and the thought fades at the scent of fresh baked goods from your apartment already filling the hallway.
You don't mean to be rude when you walk through his door, setting a small plate of glazed lemon cookies on his old coffee table, your gaze darting to the pile of records on the shelf in the corner, "So, you do like music," you chuckle, eyes fluttering over the names on the covers.
"I do," he admits, the soft lemon cookie melting on his tongue, "But if Sinatra came here and sang while I'm trying to sleep, I don't think I'd like him that much anymore."
You catch his gaze, and your lips twitch for a moment before you burst into laughter. God, he stares at you, thinking you're an almost ethereal sight as you browse his records, perched on his old leather couch, laughing at something he said, with your smile scrunching the corners of your eyes so gracefully he thinks he just might -
"Love?" you ask.
"Yes?"
And you laugh again, "No - I meant, Love." You point at the record sitting on the top of the shelf, "Didn't take you for one to listen to them."
He coughs, a red blush dusting his pale cheeks, "It's a good album."
"It is, I don't think I've ever heard it on vinyl," you say, the palms of your hands grazing your thighs as you lift yourself up from the sofa, "Well, I think I better be off - "
"Would you like to?" He asks.
"Sure."
As you sit there, listening to the soft flamenco-style guitar flowing from the record player, it takes everything from Hiromi to calm the urge to touch you or at least hold your hand, fuck, he'd settle for a brush of your fingers against his own. Tackling these urges, blatantly ignoring the music, his mind replays the same old words he'd read countless times, a thing he usually does when he's trying to take his mind off something; - One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house on Pereoulok S - , and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, towards the K - bridge.* *a/n: the opening line of Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
-
The faint smile you give him as you meet him at the entrance to the building makes the blood rush to his ears.
"Good evening," you say, and Hiromi thinks it really is much better now.
"Good evening," he answers, pointing at the exit, "I'm out to the convenience, do you need anything?"
You shake your head, "Thank you," you say before continuing the path up the stairs.
It's a frantic knock on the door that startles you once you're out of the shower, and you rush to open it, towel still wrapped around your damp hair.
"Yes?" Your gaze meets a young, short-haired woman, a stack of papers barely fitting in the grip of her hands.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I must have gotten the doors mixed up, does Higuruma Hiromi live on this floor?"
You nod, pointing a finger to the door next to yours, "But I just saw him leaving."
"Oh, crap -," the woman mutters, "I'm terribly sorry to ask this, but these are for the trial tomorrow," she lifts the papers up a bit, "would you mind if I leave them with you?"
"Trial?" You inquire, already holding your hands out to take the papers.
"Yes, a boy arrested on suspicion of murder and robbery," she sighs, "he won't let it go."
You hold the stack of papers, "Hiromi's a lawyer?"
The woman chuckles, "Oh, ah - yes."
"He works so hard," you think aloud, "even after what happened to his wife."
The woman's brows furrow, "Wife? Oh god, no, Mr. Higuruma's not married."
You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing at her words, "Sorry - uhm, has he ever been married?"
She shakes her head, "Well, I'll just leave these with you; I'll call him so he'll pick them up once he returns," she parts with a curt bow.
-
Loud. Insufferably, overwhelmingly, dreadfully, loud. The music crashes onto the walls, making them buzz so furiously you would have missed the knock on the door if only you weren't already waiting for it.
"Yes?" you scoff at the puzzled lawyer standing at your doorstep.
Hiromi's eyebrows knit together, the music reverberating through the staircase as he asked, "It's a bit loud, don't you think?"
You step away for a moment to find the stack of papers, returning to the doorstep to shove it in his arms, "Why? Will it piss off your imaginary wife?"
Oh, he thinks, and the door slams in his face.
He goes into his apartment and places the papers on the coffee table. He sits down to read them, only to find his eyes skimming over the letters, not quite making any sense of what he's reading with the music playing through the wall and his conscience raging in his mind.
Another knock on the door, and you open it with a huff, "Forgot something?"
Hiromi stands with his arms dangling by the sides of his body, a soft look in his eyes as he mutters, "I'm sorry."
He's just a neighbor, right? A nice one, at that, with a handsome face and kind eyes. Why am I so angry? Why's the music blaring with the intent of ruining his evening? Why's he standing so close -
It's an eternity in your mind, but only a few seconds pass while you think, unconsciously staring directly at his lips. He catches that, of course, he wouldn't get anywhere in court if he wasn't mindful of nuance.
The first thing you feel is his hand grasping at the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close to him. Next, the soft brush of his lips against yours as he breathes, "Is this alright?"
You don't answer; instead, you grasp at his arms through the fabric of his suit, capturing his lips as a fog settles in your mind, a soft hum running from your mouth to his.
His arms wander on your body while you relish in the softness of his lips; they skim across your lower back to come down and hold a firm grip on your ass when his tongue finally darts into your mouth. "Fuck," he pants, pushing you up against the wall, and you only momentarily remember you should probably close the damn door.
"Hm?" he puzzles when you break away from the kiss, watching you gesture towards the door, "I guess you can be considerate towards your neighbors," and he pushes the door, his tongue returning to your mouth before he even hears the closing thud.
It doesn't take long for him to slide his hand from your ass into your pants, long fingers gliding on your lower stomach, dragging the fabric of your underwear to the side as he rubs circles over your clit. "Don't be so quiet," he hums against your lips when he sees you biting back your moans, "Trust me, no one can hear you through this noise."
"Fuck, Hiro - " you gasp at the feeling of his fingers entering your cunt, one look at his glazed-over eyes and you try to desperately press your lips to his again, but he finds the crook of your neck instead, sucking on the skin there, leaving small bruises while his fingers glide in and out of your soaked cunt.
Each graze of his teeth against your neck makes you clench against his fingers, and he feels himself growing unbearably hard at the feeling, the slight friction of his cock rutting against the fabric of his trousers barely enough to give him some relief.
"Shit, sucking my fingers in like that - " he murmurs against your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing the spot that made you whimper, "You close?" And you feel the knot in your stomach come undone at his words, wetness gushing over his fingers as your body quivers.
You let out a choked gasp when he picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Your clothes are discarded by the time you reach the couch, and you're trapped under him, back pressed against the sofa while the fabric of his suit rubs against your naked body.
The jacket of his suit falls to the floor, and his hand reaches to undo his tie, "N-no," you breathe, "Leave it on," you say as your hand works on the zipper of his trousers, pulling them down together with his underwear just low enough for his cock to spring out.
"Dirty," he chuckles against your lips, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You moan at the feeling, pushing your hips down to take in the tip, "I always liked lawyers," you push a hand up to grip his hair, tugging at the soft strands.
"Did you now?" His muscles tighten as he pushes his cock further into you, rolling his hips to finally bottom out inside you.
"Mhmm," you moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy push against his thrusts, drunk on the soft smell of his cologne lingering in the air.
"Hiro - " you can barely breathe out his name with the feeling of his cock working you open, your hand leaving his hair to grip at his tie dangling from his neck, holding it tightly in your fist.
"God," he groans, chasing his climax with deeper thrusts, "you really do like lawyers," he huffs as your pussy clenches against him, the heat spreading under his skin.
He pulls out, and you whimper at the absence of his cock as he flips you, your head pressed flat against the couch, your ass perked up against his hips. His thrusts feel unbelievably deeper from that angle, his hand reaching to grip mercilessly at your hair to pull your head up.
"Ah - Fuck -," you babble, "Hiro - I - ," your reach a hand to rub your clit, his thrusts a perfect pace to the coiling tension in your stomach, and he anchors his hand on the fat of your ass, fingers digging deeper as he bites back his moans, coming closer to his own release.
"I - Ah -, " and you don't even finish your moan as your back arches, heat coursing through your body as you come, feeling as if you'd collapse if not for his hand holding you up by your hair. His hips stutter, a silent 'fuck' escaping his lips as you feel his seed painting your walls, his thrusts finally slowing down.
He pulls out, releasing the grip on your hair, and you turn a flushed gaze towards him, a dazed smile glazing your lips. He adjusts himself back in his trousers, his eyes falling on the speakers on your table, still ruthlessly blasting music.
"Is this the..?" He motions towards the speakers, and you nod.
He gets up, his hand twisting the volume knob until the white mark on it touches zero. The room grows silent.
Finally, he thinks.
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noshinoshi · 1 month
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👀🌻hiromi
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0asisbliss · 6 days
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Sick husband Higuruma! who misses you everytime you have to leave for work.
Sick husband Higuruma! who tells you how much he’s thankful everything you do for him, and how much you must care for him.
Sick husband Higuruma! who feels like a burden to whenever you have to push his wheelchair somewhere.
Sick husband Higuruma! Always wanting to cuddle up to you, and watch as your stomach goes up and down as you sleep. Watching you as you move in your sleep wondering what exactly you’re dreaming about.
Sick husband Higuruma! trying to get you to stay home by telling you his breathing levels have changed, and that something might happen to him if you don’t stay home and observe him.
Sick husband Higuruma! Who wants you to stay home 24/7.
Sick husband Higuruma! that hates when you have to take money out of your paycheck to do things for him. When he tell you everytime to take it out of his bank account.
Sick husband Higuruma! Who still wants children even with his condition. You talk about having them constantly, and he wants to make you happy.
Sick husband Higuruma! Constantly stays home because he’s afraid he’ll embarrass you in public.
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drak3n · 4 months
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THE ONE-NIGHT STAND
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ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: why did this hookup affect you in a way you couldn’t stop thinking about him months later?
ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, slight hair-pulling, two adults being terrible at handling feelings, slow burn, alcohol
bold italic quotes = letter excerpts
PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“you’re probably wondering why i wrote a letter to you. what we had wasn’t that deep, after all.”
“lady in black over there paid for your next drink.”
if there was one word to describe hiromi, it had to be… oblivious. terribly so. it wasn’t like he ever had much time for dating and exploring things, having been occupied with college for many years and climbing his way up the ladder until he could finally call himself a lawyer.
now that he was one, he despised his job. it brought him nothing but trouble and negative thoughts. who the hell had fooled him into thinking it would be a cool job?
perhaps his parents.
the man with spiky, dark hair accepted the whiskey and coke mixture the bartender had slid over on the counter, and he didn’t turn around to check who had really paid for his damn drink until he took a sip first. as a grown ass man, he wasn’t going to take a 180 turn at the speed of light and make a fool of himself.
and oh boy, when he did turn around to check for said lady in black, he nearly took a double take. except for, his hooded gaze stayed plastered on you. unable to drag his dark eyes away from you.
leaned against the wall on the other side of the bar, you were a sight. out of all the laughing and blabbering people dressed in all kinds of odd colors that would usually be more striking to the eye, it was your — he didn’t want to call it normal — choice of clothing that struck him.
short, skintight dress that left little to one’s imagination. yet, his thoughts were running with all kinds of things, gears shifting and turning faster than they ever did before.
it was only his second drink of the night, it wasn’t the alcohol speaking. and it wasn’t also the fatigue speaking. it was him, unfiltered and raw.
you gave him a coy smile and raised your half-empty glass, not even listening to what your friends had to say, wanting nothing but to talk to that man you had bought a drink for.
while higuruma might have started sweating under his suit — he was lucky he had left his jacket at home, forcing him to roll the sleeves of his white shirt up — he didn’t show it. his expression stayed indifferent, face as stoic as ever as he stayed right where he was.
he hadn’t smiled back, only having opted to raise his glass while his unoccupied hand was shoved into the pocket of his slacks. he probably had no idea how mouth-watering that sight was to you. you nearly felt your thighs clenching together out of instinct.
your friends started picking up on where your glance and attention had been wandering to, which followed by them trying to force you to strike up a conversation with him. you didn’t see any reason for it, taking his lack of action after your first step as a sign of disinterest.
however, when you approached the bar by yourself to order one more drink for yourself, the bartender told you it had already been paid for.
“who?” you questioned, which made the woman behind the bar shoot you a grin. “handsome guy in a suit,” was her curt response before she walked off to tend to other drunkards.
you weren’t very slick, so the first thing you did was whip your head to where he had been standing the entire time.
he was already looking at you.
you couldn’t help but start sweating even more than before when he started to approach you. his facial expression didn’t look awfully friendly, so you highly doubted he was going to talk to you.
but he did.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“there are some things i forgot in the heat of the moment, but one of the things i can still remember very clearly — apart from the night we both shared together — was how respectful you were.”
neither of you two realized how much time had passed. your friends were forgotten, feeling like leaving you to hiromi wouldn’t be a bad idea as you had been in need of good male company for quite a long time.
alas, a good fuck.
you didn’t drink much more alcohol after that, equally agreeing that the atmosphere was too good to ruin it with unserious giggling and staggering. alcohol had to be one of the main causes of people fucking up things.
it was amazing how higuruma made you feel attached to the conversation despite his voiced displeasure for his job and the entire sector he worked at. what he worked as, he didn’t make clear. which made the entire conversation even more interesting.
it had been his dream to practice justice, he’d told you, but he quickly found out that it wasn’t possible during times like these. it actually saddened you to hear that.
“i’m sure you’re still incredible at your job,” you smiled at him, eyes never leaving his. there was something about him that made you feel stupidly attracted to him.
you felt like a horny teenager glancing at his features, imagining how good you’d feel under him—
a surprised sound was drawn from your lips as an arm was suddenly draped around your waist, pulling you closer to the tall lawyer. one glance to your right told you that someone had approached the bar and stepped too close to you.
the protective aura he exuded sent a tingle straight to your south. and the alcohol you had consumed the entire night helped you voice it.
you found yourself looking at hiromi whose thick eyebrows went up at the words that had spilled from your lips. “i’m afraid i missed what you just said,” he muttered, hand leaving your body when the danger was gone. you didn’t miss the way he put the previous distance between your bodies again.
now that was a man worthy to be between your legs.
so instead of chickening out, you repeated what he allegedly hadn’t heard.
“i said, i want you to fuck me.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“i never had a man treat me so respectfully. i never thought it was a thing for a man to be nice. sounds stupid, right?”
it didn’t take long for both of you to arrive at your place that wasn’t too far away, thankfully so, because you could barely contain yourself from pouncing on the poor man.
he had a lot more self-control than you had, but the moment you unlocked the door to your apartment, he urged you inside gently to push you against the nearest wall.
“are you sure about this?” staring deeply into your eyes as he questioned your needs, higuruma could tell you weren’t drunk. so was he. you were both totally logical about this.
already kicking off your heels, you pulled him down to your height by his tie. “stop asking,” you panted, licking your lips as your heartbeat quickened with your overwhelming desire.
it was him who closed the gap between you two, soft lips molding together in a heated kiss as your hands wandered to his face, finding his defined cheekbones and the slightest stubble on his pointed chin.
hiromi’s large palms firmly squeezed your hips, staying respectfully distant from your other regions. you whined into the kiss at how needy his touches made you.
“hiromi… take off my dress,” you broke the kiss as you both gasped for air, and a deep hum left his lips when you turned around, exposing the zipper of the dress below your nape.
a shuddered breath was drawn from your mouth when his warm fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your neck to brush your hair aside, making you choke in surprise when he tugged at it, forcing your neck to strain.
“i couldn’t quite hear you, love.” his moist lips ghosted over the shell of your ear and you bit your lower lip. “what do you say when you want someone to do something for you?”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“the only thing i could think of was how good of a partner you’d be to me. even if it was the worst timing to be thinking about that, considering i was… under you.”
it didn’t matter at this point if you had five or a hundred bodies before hiromi. because one thing was for certain.
he would remain the best fuck of your life till the end of your days.
it wasn’t just the sheer size and girth that was stretching you so painfully deliciously, but also the skill and perfection he put into every and each of his thrusts.
for a man as lethargic as him, he made sure to put all of his energy into fucking you. he didn’t ask you to move a muscle, and all you did was take the pounding he granted you with your face smushed into your pillow and your ass up.
you were lucky your moans were muffled by the fabric of your pillow, because with how good he was hitting all of the spots inside of you, you were sobbing into it. it would have been embarrassing, considering all the sounds he produced was when his hips met your ass, the squelching of when his thick cock entered and left your sopping pussy, and the grunts that left his lips.
hiromi was a sexy man. you were glad you weren’t facing him, because you were sure you’d have fallen in love with him.
“inside, please—”
you choked back a sob when higuruma slowed down, stilling his movements and catching his breath as he forced your back against his lean, muscled torso. “you want me to cum inside?” you nodded pathetically as you squirmed, moving your hips in despair to grant yourself the satisfaction you had gotten used to.
hiromi’s eyes met yours when he pressed your head against his broad shoulder with the help of a hand against your throat for leverage, and you were sure it wasn’t just your pussy throbbing at that.
you felt pathetic for cumming from only a single glance without him even moving. but at least it made him empty himself inside of you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“i wasn’t thinking about it too much, but i thought that when i’d wake up, you would still be there. even if it was just a one-night-stand.”
it was inevitable for you to pass out once you two were done. the rays of sunlight that shone through your curtains were what woke you up as you cracked your eye open to get to your senses.
you were bare beneath the covers, but you were cleaned up. the thought of hiromi haven taken care of you made your insides tingle, and your eyes flew to the other side of the bed.
except, he was not there anymore. it was as if he’d never been there. he didn’t leave a single trace. and to deepen your disappointment, he hadn’t left his number or anything else for you to contact him.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“you have no idea how many times i visited that bar afterwards in hopes of meeting you again.”
one glance at the bartender already told her what you had came for again. the nth time in months. at this point, she could only sigh and shake her head in pity.
“okay. this is the last time i’ve asked. promise,” you grunted. she just quirked a brow while handing you a shot. you looked like you needed it.
“you said that weeks ago.”
she was right. why the hell couldn’t you just let go?
you knew it wasn’t the sex. sure, it was mind-blowing… way more than just that. it was the desire to build a deeper connection with him. hooking up with that man wasn’t a mistake by any means…. but maybe that’s what made him disappear from the surface of the earth.
perhaps he thought you were too easy.
“hey, have you heard of this show?” the bartender was standing in front of you again, and you shook your head, unenthusiastic about what she was going to tell you. “apparently, it even brings people together who have been seperated for ages. maybe you could give it a try.”
now this piqued your interest. the width of your eyes was ridiculous, like one of a lovesick fool, which in a sense, you were.
“what’s the name of the show?”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“i just wanted to know if what we had was just a night of lust, or if it could have been more. that’s all i wanted.”
after sending the letter to said address of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, you were too anxious to approach your tv or any type of social media. too scared of getting an answer you weren’t going to like.
the evening of the airing where your letter was featured came and went by, but nothing happened. it wasn’t until the next few days that you realized: although you didn’t like this answer — which was none — it was the reality. it wasn’t what you wanted, but what you needed nonetheless.
now, you were ready to move on.
or, not so much. you were slumped on the barstool, staring into your drink as the jazz music playing in the background added even more to your sentimental state hours later. tonight was doomed to be terrible when you found out that the bartender was on holidays for a week, which meant you’d be on your own with your stupid thoughts.
not quite paying any attention to the silhouette sitting down on the stool next to you, your nose took a whiff of a familiar cologne. it wasn’t every day you smelled that unique men’s perfume, but perhaps it was just a coincidence—
“i got your letter.”
glancing to your right, you sighted hiromi there in all of his glory. seeing him didn’t make you choke on your spit and splutter dramatically like it happened in movies. you were frozen in your spot.
“i didn’t watch the airing. i don’t like watching shows like that.”
you stirred the half-melted glass cubes in your drink, making them clink against each other as you remained silent. if this wasn’t the road to rejection…
“what were you hoping for by sending that letter? what exactly was your intention?”
setting your glass down on the counter, you finally faced the man fully, both of your expressions deadpan. was he being serious?
“are you a lawyer or something like that?”
he paused, looking genuinely impressed at your guess as his thick brows quirked up, before a rough and husky chuckle left his lips. “what gave it away?”
“seemed like you were interviewing your client before court or something,” you laughed, “but what were you hoping for coming here today? you knew i would be here, considering you read the letter.”
hiromi leaned forward as his dark hues took in your features. he looked just as handsome as you remembered, although it had been no longer than a few months. it sure felt like forever, though.
a lopsided smile crept onto his lips as he stood up, towering over your frame. he raised a large hand to hold it out to you, which made you look at it dumbly.
“i was wondering if i could get to know said client a little better,” he murmured. a stupid grin stretched on your painted lips. “in a more formal setting, perhaps. how about dinner?”
“i’d love that, counsellor.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
943 notes · View notes
chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
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Could I Film You?
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Synopsis: Giving hiromi head nd he asks to film (Failed) :P
Pairing: Higuruma x GN!reader Content: praise, use of darling nd gorgeous, oral (m), cum play(?), and facial, reader wears lipstick, should be it:)
MDNI
Hiromi was a simple man. Rough day at the office? Knowing your mouth was waiting for him once he steps through the door, the mere thought of going home to you, was all he needed to feel better. 
And you being all he could dream of, you'd welcome him home with a smile. Already being able to see the frustration in his furrowed brow. And as you led him into his home office, telling him it's okay, you'll take care of him and make it all better.
Hiromi relaxed on the leather sofa in his office, the top three buttons undone on his white dress shirt. His black tie loosened significantly as he watched your painted lips press warm, open-mouthed kisses down his tan shaft, leaving small prints on the skin. Eyes locked with his as you trailed them up his tip. 
Being able to feel your adoration through the gentle pecks your lips planted on his cock. 
Hiromi's low eyes looked down at you expectantly, reaching his hand to your face- caressing your cheek with his thumb as his lips parted. Finding your admiration-filled eyes staring up at him.
Dragging his thumb against your rouged bottom lip. With a small smile, you pursed your lips- kissing the pad of his thumb gently as he sighed. Seeing you on your knees, looking up at him with those big eyes, always knocked the air out of his lungs.
Pulling your lips from his thumb, swiping them with your tongue as you eyed his fat, pinkening tip- a small dribble of precum daring to fall. 
Parting your lips before leaning down to his tip, "Darling?" he spoke up, "Could I-" Hiromi murmured, seeing you hesitate, "Could I film you?" with a smooth tone, trying to keep the question casual. 
Hiromi had thought of asking you this. Knowing if he had a reminder of what awaited him at home, he wouldn't be so upset midway through the work day.  
The corner of your lips curled into a smile, unaware of where the sudden confidence to ask such a thing, came from. Nodding your head, 'yes' with a gentle smile as he hurriedly reached into his blazer's breast pocket. He pulled out his phone and swiped to the side to open the camera, smiling when the lens displayed you perfectly. 
"You gonna watch it later?" you teased in a sultry tone- hearing the small beep from his phone signaling he pressed record. Hiromi parted his lips to speak, only for you to gently kiss his crying tip- coaxing a hiss from his lips instead.
Watching you through the screen as you darted your tongue out. "I'll only ever watch it when I miss yo-" your tongue interrupted Hiromi's declaration with a sharp inhale, feeling the tip of your tongue lick up and down the underside of his cock.
Trailing the tip of your tongue up the v below Hiromi's cockhead as his shoulders shivered, licking small swipes against the opening of his tip. Tasting his salty tears of precum on the palate of your tongue.
Looking up past the phone Hiromi held with a firm hand. Seeing his head fall back onto the leather chair, eyeing his prominent adams apple that bobbed with every gulp. His lips parted with quiet moans trembling past them. 
Swirling your tongue around his tip as your hands trailed up his shins covered by black slacks, seeing his head flip back upright and look down at you. Parting your lips wide enough for his fat tip to press against your tongue. His half-lidded eyes watched you through the pixels, wrapping your lips around his cockhead- your hands trailing up his thighs as he let out a throaty moan. 
Blinking your eyes shut as your tongue swirled around his head, "That's it gorgeous." he huffed with a low moan, clutching onto the phone in his hand as you lowered your lips further on his member.
Pinching your eyebrows together from his fat tip threatening to push past your tonsils, your spit trickling down his shaft as you halted your lowering. Knowing you wouldn't be able to fit most of his member in your mouth- you held your tongue flat against the prominent ridge that ran down the underside of his cock. 
You dragged up his shaft slowly, holding your hands flat on his thighs as you held his tip in your mouth with a taught circle from your lips. Opening your eyes and seeing his cheeks flushed and his bottom lip quivering, taking a light hand to graze his shaft- holding it in gently as your tongue licked against his tip.
A strangled curse left Hiromi's lips, watching intently as your hand started stroking his shaft slowly, the other trailing down his inner thigh. Your soft fingers grazed his heavy balls as you let more spit trail past your lips- supplying your stroking hand lubricant. 
His thick fingers holding his phone were struggling to keep it still, and his eyes were desperate to stay open- but your palm massaging his balls sent a chill down his spine- tonguing his cockhead as you stroked him didn't help either. Sliding your lips from the ridge of his tip, kissing the side of his sensitive head. 
Seeing his hand was struggling to stay upright- determined to continue filming you. He was so eager to have some kind of reminder on his phone whenever he needed to see it. 
Smiling as your hands kept their slow pace- wanting to drag out the delicious pleasure, he was feeling right now for as long as you could, "Lemme take care of you, Hiromi-" your lips brushed against his cock, seeing him press the power button on his phone. "Jus' relax, okay?" you crooned quietly, parting your lips again before taking his head to your tongue once more.
As much as the idea of not being able to revisit this moment in its entirety pained Hiromi. He found solace knowing he had a few minutes of you pleasing him on his phone now. 
"You're perfect-" he huffed as you licked small stripes on the underside of his head. Hiromi's eyes wanted to take in every millisecond of you kneeling before him. Trying his very best to keep his eyes open as you hollowed your cheeks, lowering your lips further on his cock as your hand pumped his base. 
Hiromi let out a throaty groan as he felt your mouth engulf what you could of his cock, your palm fondling his balls, quickening its massage- the whimpers he tried holding in his chest slowly leaving his throat as his tip breached your throat- "You're gonna make me cum-" he managed through struggling grunts, only earning for you to push further down- pulling your hand from his base as your nose grazed against his well-trimmed pubes.
You have always told Hiromi it was okay to cum in your throat- but your assurances never convinced him. Even when you told him how satisfying it is to feel his cum trickled down your throat. He still didn't believe you. No, Hiromi much preferred seeing his mess on your face- proof of him being there.
Your throat contracted around Hiromi's cock, forcing him to hunch over with a low groan. Placing both of his hands on the side of your head before pulling you from his cock. A fucked out smile on your lips as you connected your hand to his shaft once more, his balls convulsing in your palm while you stroked him harshly. Smiling with a huff as his seed shot onto your skin. 
Eyes half-lidded as he watched his cum glaze your face, the corner of your painted lip smudged, and your eyes teary. Being able to feel his frustrations and stress leave his tense shoulders with every pump of warm seed that left him, and landed on the curve of your cheek.
His grunts were hoarse- watching as your fist milked every drop of his seed onto your face with a smile. Hiromi's cock slowly started to soften in your grasp. His groans quieted, trying to catch his breath. 
Hiromi's eyes scanned your coated face as he reached a shaky thumb to your cheek. Knowing you had a penchant for tasting his seed in one way or another. 
Clenching his jaw as he thought of what he was doing instinctively, picking up a dollop of his mess from your skin before pressing his thumb onto your parted bottom lip. Earning for you to welcome his coated thumb. Your tongue cleaning the pad of his finger happily. 
"Let's get you cleaned up hm?" he smiled, slipping his thumb from your lips- licked clean as he expected. 
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polinomnom · 3 months
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“The morning of the 24th of December”
And now….ANGSTTTT!! I have found a perfect reference for this, and everything just came together….the morning on the big showdown…waking up from the night of love only to get ready to face death. But at least they are there for each other. Thats all, imma go cry in my bed now.
Closeup:
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Sunflower Valentine
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artwork by @eu--lalia
Higurma Masterlist
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Imagine leaving Higuruma a bouquet of sunflowers on his desk on Valentine's day.
He'll quickly deduce that whoever left them was making a play on his name and his career as a lawyer. So it's someone he knows.
Although he'd prefer roses if someone was leaving him flowers, he's flattered nonetheless that there's a person believing he's bouquet worthy.
The little card that came with them says 'To balance out your gloominess'.
He'll chuckle to himself 'Gloomy? I'm not gloomy. Broody perhaps.'
The rest of his day is spent trying to figure out who sent them, and he'll have a goofy grin on his face whenever he glances at them. He'll try his best to draw attention to them every time someone comes in the room, like he's not so discreetly saying 'someone sent me a Valentine's bouquet!'
"Pretty bouquet." You comment as you walk in to hand him a report.
"Oh, noticed them did you? Looks like I'm popular around here," he'll drawl, trying not to look too pleased with himself.
"Or it could mean someone doesn't want to look at you again."
His smugness fades. "What do you mean?"
"Oh cmon, you know the old Greek tale? Apollo turned his lover Clytie into a sunflower so that he'd never have to look at her face again after she betrayed him to a sea nymph."
His cheer immediately drops and you feel bad for him. "But I doubt that. Very few people know that fact. I'm sure whoever sent them intends to see your face again. Perhaps the next day morning."
"Next day morning?" he sounds confused.
You nod your head. "Yeah. Sunflowers need to be plucked in the early morning otherwise they wilt. So maybe whoever sent them was hoping they'd see your face the next morning after you've... Wilted."
You give him a playful smirk and walk out.
"Wilted...? What...?"
It takes a few seconds before the cogs in his brain start work.
"Hold on now y/n!"
He scrambles out of the office behind you.
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Sunflower divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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btxtyuri · 5 months
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kusakabe wanting no part in this sorcerer shit bcs he wants to go home to his family but suddenly jumps to protect this random guy arms stretched and everything like woah OKAAYYYYYYYYYY??!!!!!
596 notes · View notes
pseudowho · 4 months
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Defending Your Honour
A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.
A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕
Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!
Part 3 (Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, Inumaki Toge and Fushiguro Toji) link here!
More JJK men and women to come
Trigger Warning: spreading false sexual rumours, stalking, being followed home
Higuruma Hiromi
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You had to leave. You had to get another job. There was no way to come back from this; office-culture spread rumours like the plague, and whether they were founded or not, you still felt the pierce of dozens of judging eyes on you.
Your clothes felt too tight, too revealing, your skin prickled and your nose stung with tears as you gulped, chin held high but so exposed and vulnerable. A filthy rage roiled in your gut at the injustice of it all. The irony did not escape you, as you hot-footed away from the whispers of the legal office.
As you gathered files, clunky and unwieldy in your arms, you felt a hand pretending to be affectionate on the small of your back that made your skin crawl, covered in worms and mud.
"When you're ready," a low voice sing-songed to your right, smirking, gleeful, "just hop along to my office, and we can work something out, yeah?" You jolted with shame as the hand clapped your bum. The eyes flicked back onto you. The whispers spread, infectious. You were a leper, now.
Hiccuping as you ducked your head, you felt hot rancid tears stream down your cheeks, darting down a corridor and reaching for a door any door to take you away from all of these eyes and whispers and accusations and this one was usually empty so you snuck in and slammed the door shut behind you and--
"Oh! Hello," a low, warm voice offered, surprised. You gasped, clapping a hand over your mouth, unable to hide the tears and anguish. The man was tall, slender, his unruly black hair escaping in flicks over his temples, but he looked so genuinely concerned as he rose from his desk, that you sobbed, apologising and sinking to the floor with your face in your knees.
You felt the man crouch beside you, his hands on his thighs, his presence sincere and welcoming. He sat for a moment, apparently awkward and unsure how he could help you.
"It's okay," he reassured, "it's a fucking ugly office, I hate it too, it makes me cry--" You huffed out a wet, genuine laugh and heard him smile, amused puffs of breath from his nose.
"Really, though," he continued, "I'm happy to help...if I can. Not sure if you need a lawyer, or-- or for me to catch a spider for you, I mean I hate them too but I can certainly--" he stopped himself from rattling away. You sniffled, looking up at him with a cute watery smile that made his heart thump.
"You could get me a new job, maybe? Or just a new boss?" You wiped your eyes now, embarrassed by interrupting this lovely man. The lovely man raised his eyebrows, now sitting in front of you, cross-legged.
"And what has your boss done to make you cry?" He inquired, black eyes like beetles, reading you.
You fumbled, uncertain of yourself when explaining the crimes of a man to another man, "I think he didn't, uhm...didn't take being rejected very well and uh--" tears poured, unbidden, as your face crumpled again, "--he's started a rumour than uhm-- that I sleep with him and uhm-- I don't but everyone believes it, and he wants me to come to his office now, after he's just touched me, and I don't know-- I don't know what to do--"
You broke down again, weeping into your knees, as the lovely man before you simmered, his lid rattling with unbridled rage at the unfairness of it all.
He smiled at you, though, gentle and open, "Your boss...the sweaty one? Big guy, thinks he's all that?" You laughed wetly again.
"Oh, you know him?" You grinned together, and you blushed, painfully grateful for being treated with basic respect. Hiromi nodded-- he didn't know your boss. But, he knew men like him and they filled him with bitter disdain, a core loathing and disgust that informed his choices every day.
"Well then...you can share my office today," he insisted as he stood, rubbing his hooked nose between two long fingers, "I've got...something to do." You blinked owlishly up at him. He helped you up, pulling a chair to his desk for you. You perched, confused, but not arguing.
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Some time later, your boss headed back to his office from the vending machines, impatient for you to come to his office, feeling sickly gleeful for having punished you for humiliating him, and his heart leapt hopefully, because maybe he could offer to deny all those rumours, and then you would be so grateful that maybe you'd give him a--
He opened his office door, having just enough time to click it closed behind him before hearing a quiet, angry voice from somewhere above the doorframe.
"Domain Expansion: Deadly Sentencing."
Plunged into a different room, ostensibly not his office, your boss shrieked in terror as two terrifying black figures loomed over him, only one of them human.
"What the fuck are you-- where the fuck am I-- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"
Higuruma looked up at the Judgeman with a humourless smile, and back down at your boss, who scurried backwards until his shoulders hit the domain's edge, blind with panic.
"You've been a very naughty boy," Hiromi sang, "shall we see how naughty?"
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You jumped as the office door swung open, and Higuruma (you had worked out, from the lanyard he left on his desk) re-entered with two hot drinks. He smiled a wonky, loping smile.
"Coffee machine's finest," he offered, placing one in your hands. He stood for a moment, bouncing on his heels, chin and nose dipped in consideration.
"I should think... your days of problems with your boss may be over," he said, blasé and cryptic. He did not elaborate, but reached into his pocket, before slipping his card across the desk to you.
"My office is, uhm...hiring a new legal assistant, though. I can put in a good word for you." Hiromi looked into the distance across the room, one hand in his pocket as he continued to rock on his heels. He glanced down at you, eyes glimmering at each other as they met.
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Ino Takuma
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I loved meeting you last week. I thought we made a really special connection. I'd love to meet again. Call me.
You smelled so good today. I love how you're being such a tease. Can't wait for you to call.
I can't stand seeing you talking to other guys! Still haven't seen this so-called 'boyfriend' of yours though. He can't be that into you if he's letting other men near you. Call me.
You didn't answer when I knocked for you, but I know you're home. Bet you were upstairs being naughty, hope you were thinking of me, hahaha, jk. HMU, seriously. I miss you.
I know you're such a little slut behind that 'good girl' act ;) Quit playing hard to get. I finish at 5, I'll meet you from work and we can finally go on that date you owe me.
I've never been this in love before. So disappointed you ditched our first date. I'll catch you another time. I love you so much.
Hope you got the flowers I left on your porch. I love you so much.
I love you.
Good morning baby. I love you.
You're a nasty little bitch and you're gonna die alone and you deserve it. If this is how you treat a nice guy like me, how do you treat all the others? You should be grateful.
I'm sorry. I've just had a really bad day baby. You're my whole world. I love you.
Your hands shook as you scrolled through unanswered text after unanswered text. How had being friendly at a work conference gotten so out of hand? Your head spun as you recounted the memories; were you too flirty? Did you give hints of wanting to be more than just acquaintances? Did you dress too provocatively? Did you touch him?
In a desperate hunt for answers you blamed yourself. I should just be a standoffish bitch in the future, you thought, trying to hold back tears.
Leaning over your desk to pack your bag, you began to feel the walls close in around you, terrifying and claustrophobic, a rat in a maze, and you saw tears splash down onto the leather of your work diary. Would he be waiting outside work again today? Or would he be just outside your office door? Would he be waiting in your home?
You felt a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, "Hey gorgeous! Guess who got off work ear--"
In a shrieking panic, you lashed out, spinning with your hands raised in attack and defence. Your wonderful, kind boyfriend, Takuma, threw himself backwards, alarmed and apologetic, raising his own hands in placation.
"Whoa, whoa, hey! Oh babe, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you--...what is it? Why are you crying? What's happened?"
Weeks and weeks of trying to ignore your stalker, hoping he would go away and forget about you, tumbled out of you at once. In a wild babble of explanation, he keeps texting me, and I'm not interested, and he won't leave me alone, and he leaves things on the doorstep, and I'm so, so sorry.
You had thrust your phone into Takuma's hands, and he held you close to him with one arm as you sobbed into his shoulder. The other hand scrolled through messages from your unwanted admirer; Takuma's face grew quiet with rage, his lips curled in disgust, a flush of anger smattered hot and pink across his cheeks.
"Babe," he started, "why didn't you..." Swallowing, Takuma stopped himself, "This is not your fault. This guy, there's...there's something wrong with him. Have you kept everything? All the stuff he's left you? All the messages?" You nodded as Takuma gripped you by the sides of the shoulders, your face crumpling as his hand raised to cup your cheek, staring deeply into you, leaning forward to press a desperate kiss to your forehead.
"Okay, listen, I'm gonna fix this," Takuma nodded hard, staring into you again as you started to shake your head, "no, no no, trust me. I promise I'm gonna fix this. Listen, you're...you're gonna go to Nanami's place. I'll call him. He'll understand. There's this lawyer at the school now, we'll gather everything and get it to him. I've...I've got to go out. I'll fix this, I mean it. I wouldn't let you down."
Takuma's heart wrenched as you continued to sob, apologising to him as if it was your fault. Within minutes, Takuma had called Nanami, and put you in a taxi. Sticking to the alleyways as he headed out into the streets, Takuma pulled his balaclava down, his eyes ferocious and vengeful as he took to the hunt.
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Your stalker was grossly familiar with your routine now. What you ate for breakfast (he had gone through your bin bags). What colour underwear you preferred (he had seen you through the gaps in your curtains). Which work events you were going to attend (he had scoured every inch of every company calender).
Thanks to some sloppy administrators, he even knew where you lived. Grinning to himself, he felt such a satisfying possession over you, knowing you inside-out. Hiding behind your neighbours' fence panels, he peeked, waiting for you to get home.
One hand leaned past his face, resting on the fence panel beside him, and his stomach froze into knots when he felt himself doused in the icy presence of some dark, unknown force. He opened his mouth to scream, and a second hand pressed over his mouth with horrifying strength.
"Hey, big guy! Wow, you really must be a hit with the ladies," air hissed through Ino's teeth and he sighed in feigned disappointment, "Not with my girl, though." Your stalker squeaked as blackness closed in around him. Ino let out a noise of disgusted amusement as the man's trousers darkened down one leg.
Ino continued, letting the man cry and shake under his hand; "Here's how this is gonna work..."
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Several days had passed since Ino had arrived at Nanami's to collect you, with a deeply satisfied smirk on his face. You had received no more messages. No more flowers. No more thinly-veiled threats. A dark cloud lifted off your mind, and you breathed easy.
Curled up on the sofa that night, you stroked Takuma's chest, listening to the clockwork thump of his heartbeat under your ear. Your curiosity got the better of you.
"Takuma...what did you do?"
Takuma grimaced, "Just showed him the error of his ways, babe. He won't be bothering you again."
While grateful, your belly swirled with fear, and guilt that even if your stalker left you alone, he'd just find someone else, another woman, and harass her just as he had harassed you-- or worse. Takuma read you like a book.
"Look, I-- I didn't want to force anything on you the other day. But I promise you, this guy knows that if you go to the cops about him, and he doesn't 'fess up, it'll be more than just me after him."
Ino smugly pictured Higuruma and Nanami, ready, Misters. Law and Order, prepared to flex their quite complementary powers of threat and legal representation.
You smiled, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of support. Leaning up, you tangled your fingers into Takuma's hair, and he let out a sweet hum of happiness as you kissed him deeply. Nose to nose, you took delight in showing your appreciation.
The next day, wearing a mantle of quiet bravery, you walked into the Police Station.
"I'd like to report a crime."
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Itadori Yuuji
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You had chosen absolutely the wrong shoes to go out in.
You shivered in the chilly night air; your skirt hadn't been this short all night, had it? The cold had a way of exposing things the mirror didn't. Still, you smiled to yourself as you leant against a lamp-post, removing your heels with a sigh of relief, certain you'd be comfier taking the last few streets before home barefoot than in these beautiful monstrosities.
You could not bring yourself to regret such a fun night. Waving your friends goodbye, you had foregone taking a taxi home. Tokyo was a safe city, anyway. It was only a short walk home. You could do with sobering up a bit.
Feet padding gingerly on the cold concrete, you tapped away on your phone as you began to walk home. Within a few minutes, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, cold prickles running down your spine.
Running a hand through your hair, you shielded your glance backwards; a man. Some distance away. By the lamppost you had removed your shoes at. You gulped-- it's nothing, you lied to yourself, just on his way home like me. But, just in case, you started walking faster, the soles of your feet stinging as they clapped against the floor.
Feeling tingles at the base of your skull a minute later, you felt the man closing in on you and bile climbed in your throat, feeling the alcohol threaten to come up into your mouth, options running through your head at breakneck speed, to scream or call the police or stop and fight or try to run faster or--
It was no use. He was almost on top of you now; you rounded the corner to a tree-lined street. You could smell the sweat on him, and you spun to face him, losing your footing and falling backwards onto the floor--
All at once, you screamed, a dark mass plummeted from the tree above you, and there was a sickening crunch as it flattened your pursuer to the floor.
The black mass, burly and pink-haired, stood up and turned to face you, opening his mouth--
You screamed again, still panicking, throwing a shoe at him, "What the hell are you? What are you doing?" The young man crouched, eyes wide, both hands in front of him, bleeding from the lip from your shoe.
"I'm a Yuuji, I'm a Yuuji--"
"--a Yuuji?!" You raised your hand again and he flinched. Your pursuer groaned underneath his feet.
"--I don't know if you know, but this guy was following you-- oh shit, you're not friends are you-- please don't throw another shoe at me--" Yuuji squeezed his eyes closed, hands still raised above his head in arrest. You surveyed him from the ground, your panic slowly abating.
He's cute, you thought as your head spun violently, and you rocked to the side, vomiting all over the pavement. Yuuji crept over to you, hands uncertain at first, but eventually settling on holding your hair back as the alcohol evacuated your stomach.
Patting your shoulder with upbeat reassurance, Yuuji turned to look at the man on the floor with a scowl.
"Creep," he grumbled, crushing the man's hand under his shoe. As the man squirmed and complained, Yuuji gave him an effortlessly hard punch to the side of the head, knocking him out cold in an instant. Rummaging in the man's pockets, Yuuji pulled out a drivers' licence.
"Oh hey, he lives nearby. Want to drop him home with me?" Yuuji asked you with a shit-eating grin.
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"Think that'll do it?" Yuuji dusted off his hands, surveying his handiwork with satisfaction. Tied up in the offerings of the man's shed (some old garden hose, with a wooden freshly painted sign hung around his neck), the man was dropped unceremoniously onto the doorstep. You snapped a quick photo on your phone, hand over your mouth as you laughed to yourself.
Yuuji pressed the doorbell, and grabbed your other hand, pulling you behind a hedge as you giggled like children together.
"I FOLLOW GIRLS HOME" read the man's sign, as his mother opened the door.
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"--so anyway, I should probably get back to work, I guess...after you get home."
You rested your chin on Yuuji's shoulder as he piggy-backed you home, your shoes slung in one hand as he ambled, slowly zigzagging along the tree-lined street. Your eyes drooped, breathing in your new friend's soft, cosy smell, still occasionally giggling to yourself.
Arriving at your doorstep, Yuuji lowered you to the ground, and brought one hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. His face blushed crimson when you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. He grinned, shuffling sweetly, bidding you goodnight, but hesitating. You bit your lip, head tipped, waiting. Yuuji didn't get the hint, turning to walk away.
"Hey, my hero. All that, and I don't get your number?"
Yuuji's smile could have split rainclouds.
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Higuruma waiting on the ceiling above the office door like
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Coming next: Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Toji, Toge Inumaki, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara.
963 notes · View notes
tsukimefuku · 8 days
Text
CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES
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masterlist link | mdni!
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❀ putative self-defense.
when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived. 
wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader
❀ summary.
after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.
❀ Tags and c/w.
non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.
thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺
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Your morning was a clusterfuck.
Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.
Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.
It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.
You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.
"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."
"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."
Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.
"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.
She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."
"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"
Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.
You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.
"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.
You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.
"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.
And you were, actually.
"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.
"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."
"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."
She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."
"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?
"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"
"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."
"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.
After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed. 
"Nobara, where is the coffee?"
"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.
You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.
"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"
"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"
"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"
You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"
"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.
***
I can't fucking believe this.
You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.
This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.
While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.
He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?
Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.
This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.
You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.
Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.
Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.
And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.
Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.
After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening. 
Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.
It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.
At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.
Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.
As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.
Instant karma. Seems fair.
Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.
"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.
As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man. 
The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright. 
And that beautiful hooked nose.
He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.
The front certainly matches the back.
Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.
"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something. 
You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.
"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.
So, why clusterfuck?
When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.
That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.
Shit.
The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.
You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.
However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb. 
This couldn't get any worse, could it?
You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.
"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.
Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.
It wasn't.
"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.
"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"
Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper. 
Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.
Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.
The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.
"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."
You were at a complete loss for words.
"I… I… Fairness…"
Then silence.
You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.
You really should have slept better.
He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.
"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."
Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.
Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it. 
"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."
Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.
Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.
What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?
Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.
And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.
Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.
He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.
You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.
"Stay there for a second."
"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.
A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.
"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.
"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.
Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.
 The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.
"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.
"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.
"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."
His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.
It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.
Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.
This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place. 
For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.
He was the real deal.
"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place." 
Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.
"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"
He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence. 
You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.
***
“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.
“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.
Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.
“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”
Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”
Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.
It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.
Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.
Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.
“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.” 
“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”
“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”
Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.
“You’re too overly dramatic.”
At that, Higuruma scoffed.
“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”
“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted. 
Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.
They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.
Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.
“I mean it. I’m fine.”
Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.
“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice. 
“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”
“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”
“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”
“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”
“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.
***
This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.
He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.
After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.
He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.
Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.
You have to be kidding me.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!”
He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.
Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.
Then, she… chuckled? 
Hm… What?
She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back. 
However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.
He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.
There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.
Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.
The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time. 
"Fuck," first class and already running late. 
The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.
The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner. 
He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.
The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky. 
He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.
Now, what will I teach these people today?
Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.
The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?
With adrenaline, of course.
***
The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.
However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor. 
You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.
"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."
Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.
"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."
Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone. 
You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.
As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.
"Yes?"
Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.
Oh, shit. He's handsome.
Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.
"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.
Brilliant. Off to a great start.
Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.
"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.
You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?
"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.
“5000 yen.”
“... What?”
“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”
You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.
“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”
Is this guy for real?
You cleared your throat before continuing.
“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”
After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.
He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.
“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.
You were very surprised.
“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”
“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”
Uh?
“Also a joke.”
“You’re not very good with those.”
Did I say that out loud? 
He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.
I did say it out loud.
"Fuck."
And that too. 
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.
“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.
Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.
He then proceeded.
"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.” 
His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.
You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.
He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.
"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.
He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"
"The mock expulsion?"
"Heavens, no."
"Then, why?" you inquired.
He rubbed his face with his hands.
"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."
Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.
"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"
"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."
You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.
"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."
He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.
No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.
It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.
"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."
He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.
"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."
"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"
He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay."
"But still…"
He sighed.
"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."
You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.
"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."
The professor shook his head.
"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."
Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.
"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."
You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.
"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."
You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.
"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."
He bowed his head slightly.
"Same to you."
However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.
"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.
"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."
"Hm… what is it?"
He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.
"Are those pajamas?"
You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.
"Of course… not?"
Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.
"Do you intend to be an attorney?"
"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.
He huffed.
"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"
Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.
Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.
"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.
"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.
You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.
"Of course not."
"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.
The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.
Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.
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candy69gurl · 2 months
Text
‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎⋅˚୨୧ ‎‏‏BARBIE PLAY ‎‏‏‎⋅˚୨୧ ‎‏‏‎
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Hiromi Higuruma x innocent f!reader
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18+, dark, dub/noncon, manipulation, loss of innocence, manipulation, slight incest, praises, dad-daughter bonding , nipple play, face sitting, rough raw sex, blow job, multiple orgasms, infertility, mentions of cheating ART NOT MINE
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"I'll be gone for now." Hiromi sighs and stuffs a piece of toast into his mouth while wearing his black suit. "And, I can be late, so please eat dinner without me."
 "Daddy, are you going to work again today?" you ask, looking at him with puppy eyes, hoping he melts. "Leaving me alone with the nanny," you say quietly. 
Hiromi's expression transforms into one of concern when he notices the tone of your voice.
"I am pregnant!!" Your mother hugs Hiromi. 
He frowns at her. 
"You're joking, right?" Hiromi freezes and looks at her, shocked. "No, I am not. Why should I?" your mother replied. 
Hiromi sighs as his jaw clenches. He takes his bag and goes to leave.
"I don't want to discuss this right now. I'll be home late, so eat the dinner yourself." 
He shuts the door and walks towards his office. 
She cheated on him. There is no chance that could be his baby because he is sterile. She is unaware of this, and he does not want to inform her either. He doesn't blame her, he is so preoccupied with his work that he can't devote time to his wife.
*9 months later*
Hiromi glances at the baby girl.
"Doesn't she look like you?" your mother cooes.
"No," Hiromi bluntly says.
"But look at the smile; it's exactly like yours." 
"I do not smile." 
Your mother pushes her lips together and remains silent. 
*timeskips*
Your mother and Hiromi end up having divorce, and Hiromi takes custody of you since your mother cannot pay child support. 
Hiromi, although not your biological father, adores you and provides for all of your needs. Not everything though. Not himself. He is a highly busy man, so he is constantly away from you at work.
But there's something about you that offers him joy. He had never smiled in his life, except for the times when you make him smile. He is now attached to you in both ways, physically and mentally.
"I...Yes, I'm going to work again." Hiromi's tone of voice is rather soft and a bit depressed. He's trying his best to be a good father, but it's always hard to make it work because he is so busy with work all the time. Hiromi seems like he understands that his work schedule might be causing problems in their relationship, and he feels sorry for that.
You get closer to him, noticing his dark circles and pale skin.
"It's Sunday, and... you don't look so well."
Hiromi gives you a fake smile. The pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes are reminders of just how hard he's been working. He looks back up and smiles softly at you. "I know, I know. I'm just a bit... tired. But it's not too bad; don't worry about it."
It's clear to both of you that he hasn't been taking care of himself lately. Hiromi is so focused on work that he's forgotten to eat and sleep properly.
"I want to take care of you, dad. I want you to be here with me. I know how hard you work providing for us," you say, hugging him.
The warmth of your hug makes him close his eyes. Hiromi has been working tirelessly to support both of you, and your words make him realize just how tired and burned out he can be.
Hiromi hugs you tight, pressing his chest tightly against your face to feel your warmth. "I'm sorry... I know... I'll try my best to spend more time with you."
You can feel the strain of his exhaustion as he clings to you, like he's terrified of letting you go.
"I promise..." Hiromi whispers to you before letting out a small sigh of relief. It feels like all of the stress and worry that he has been carrying around lately is lifted off of his shoulders as he nuzzles into your soft vanilla-scented hair. Hiromi seems much lighter and more relaxed now. He realizes you have grown up and crave his presence more than you used to.
"Do you promise to spend the next Sunday with me?"
"I promise." Hiromi's tone is soft but serious as he says these words. He stares at you with his brown eyes, wanting to emphasize just how much your happiness means to him. He knows next Sunday's going to be your birthday, so he has to do something to light up the relationship between you too.
*timeskips*
The next Sunday comes, and Hiromi is up early to make you some breakfast. He is making your favorite pancakes, though his hands are shaking slightly as he does. Hiromi can't stop thinking about everything he wants to do with you today. He hopes that he can finally show you just how much he has been missing you.
You enter the kitchen yawning and stretching, and you are surprised to see Hiromi making your breakfast. Usually you get to see your nanny making you breakfast, but your dad has actually kept the promise.
You run to hug him from behind.
The unexpected hug from behind makes Hiromi flinch in surprise. He smiles softly as his eyes flicker from a look of shock back to one of warmth.
"Good morning, sweetheart..." Hiromi chuckles softly as he turns around and wraps his arms around your small frame.
The sensation of your body pressed against his fills Hiromi with a sense of joy. It's been far too long since he has spent quality time with you, and your presence now means the world to him.
"Dad, do you know what day it is?" You expectantly look at him.
"Yes, of course I do, honey." Hiromi's soft voice is like music to your ears. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes as he speaks.
"It's Sunday." Hiromi smiles at you warmly.
Pressing your lips together, you reply, "You really don't remember."
A fake look of worry crosses Hiromi's face when he notices your expression. He realizes just now that you have been testing him, wondering if he had actually forgotten what today was.
"It's your birthday today. How can I forget?" Hiromi smirks slightly, whispering. "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Hiromi's voice is warm and soft as he smiles at you.
Hiromi leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead. He is sad to see that you grew up so fast without him much looking after you.
"Let's make this a day to remember, shall we?"
You nod excitedly at his words.
"How do you want to spend today?" He asks you, seeming excited at the prospect of making this day a special one for you.
"I want to spend the whole day with you at home."
Hiromi's expression lights up as he hears this. He would love to spend all day at home with you, just the two of you.
"Ah, that is perfect." Hiromi can't begin to describe how excited he is to spend the day with you.
"Now, let's go sit down and eat breakfast together. I've made some delicious pancakes for you." He says it softly, grabbing your hand to lead you to the table where your breakfast is waiting.
*time skips to night after having dinner*
The two of you have been spending the whole day together, and you can't seem to remember the last time you've had so much fun.
You're currently cuddled up with your dad on the couch, watching a horror movie together. You feel so content in his arms, and the comfort of your father's presence means so much to you.
Hiromi seems to be enjoying this just as much as you. He keeps looking down at you and smiling; his eyes are filled with an overwhelming sense of affection.
You have grown up now with striking feminine features.
"OO~ I love slender men," you squeaked.
As you watch the movie together, your eyes are drawn to the screen where the Slenderman character is stalking its victims.
Hiromi notices your eyes wander away and leans down to rest his head on your shoulder. He leans in close and whispers something in your ear.
"Don't you think he is evil?" He chuckles softly as he pulls back to look down at you.
"But I love slender men. I always had... He is just like you. He wears a black suit and has pale skin, just like you. He is not evil at all. He is cute, just like you."
"Aww..." Hiromi laughs at what you've just said. It's so innocent and endearing, and Hiromi can't help but feel amused.
"I guess I can sort of see that? Though I would never hurt a fly." He says this as he cuddles up to you a little closer, feeling the warmth and softness of your body against his. It makes his heart flutter.
"You know, since you're (your next age) now, I can start treating you like a little adult." Hiromi whispers in your ear. A look of pride lights up his eyes as he stares right at you with a small smile.
"And adults like to celebrate their birthday in a special way; do you remember what people do?"
"Oh, THEY CELEBRATE IN A DIFFERENT WAY?" You feel interested.
"Oh, yes, adults tend to have a bit of an extra special celebration." Hiromi grins widely as he looks down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischievous intentions.
He whispers something in your ear before leaning back and looking down at you with a playful grin.
"Do you want to know a secret?"
You nod excitedly.
"Come here and let me tell you..." Hiromi pats his lap and gestures for you to sit on his lap.
His playful expression is like a kid on Christmas as he looks back up at you.
"I have a surprise for you today." He whispers in your ear. You feel Hiromi squeeze your back slightly trying to pull you close to him.
You sit on his lap and feel him wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Hiromi's playful expression has evolved into something that you don't recognize.
"Good girl," Hiromi whispers as he leans in close and presses his lips against your neck. His voice has taken on a tone of sensuality as he leans into your ear and whispers softly.
"What are you doing?" You giggle, feeling the tickling sensation on your neck.
"Keep being a good girl for me." His words are soft and tender as his breath caresses the soft skin of your neck.
"I want you to stay in this position," he says playfully, "just like this." He puts one arm around your waist while the other gently cups one of your cheeks.
"I love you, my girl. Nothing matters to me more than you." His words are like a hypnotizer, as his voice grows more seductive with each breath.
"I love you too," you reply. You can feel something is strange.
A grin spreads across Hiromi's face at your confession. You feel his teeth brush against your neck once more.
You flinch, and one of your hands runs through his hair, grabbing them.
"Ah..." Your sudden movement surprises Hiromi, but he loves the fact that you are responding so strongly to his touch. Your hands stroking his hair make him smirk faintly; the movement of your hands is so alluring.
Hiromi leans his head down towards yours, his forehead touching yours and his voice grows husky and deeper as he speaks.
"You're being such a good girl right now... So cooperative... and I know exactly what I want to do to you for your birthday."
"What-" You grab something hard underneath you.
Hiromi's eyes flutter almost shut at your touch.
"Hm...?" He seems to be enjoying the physical contact of your hands on that part of his body where you grabbed it.
A cheeky grin spreads across Hiromi's face. He leans back again to look into your eyes.
"It seems like you're the very curious type, and I was waiting for this moment." For a moment, he stares at you, studying your expression.
You look at him, confused.
He lets out a soft chuckle as he starts whispering again.
"Would you like to get a little intimate gift from your father? I wasn't kidding when I said this was going to be a very special birthday, was I?" He whispers softly, his breath hot in your ear.
You accidentally press on that hard object to rest your cheek against his chest and look up at him with innocent eyes.
"Yes, I want that gift. I want to spend more time with you." You reply, almost sounding as if you were begging.
This causes Hiromi's breath to hitch and his eyes to widen with disbelief.
He smiles down at you as he stares into your innocent eyes.
"Oh, you really are my little girl." He whispers softly, his voice filled with a deep sense of admiration and affection.
"If you want an intimate gift from your dad, we will have to go elsewhere." Hiromi's voice has become more sultry and seductive, his eyes never leaving your face. Hiromi seems to like the way you are pressing into him. His expression has grown even more seductive as he gazes into your eyes.
"Where do you want me to go to receive the gift?"
"My bedroom," he whispers softly.
"Oh, you have the gift there?" You ask, laughing sheepishly.
"Yes, my dear, that's where the special gift is." He smiles and reaches up to stroke your face.
He picks you up and takes you to his bedroom.
"You are very strong." You cling to his neck while he carries you. "You can carry me as if I am a baby."
"Well, you're still my little baby." He says softly as he carries you to his bedroom, being careful not to bump into things along the way.
Once inside the bedroom, he sets you down on his bed and gets on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed.
You wait for the gift.
He chuckles softly and looks down into your expecting eyes.
"Just let your hands wander a bit, and you'll find it." He whispers seductively, his breath touching your neck.
"Is it there?" You ask him, looking at his hardened member. It's already huge and bulging and could be seen through his pants.
"Mm..." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your neck before he speaks again.
"You sure know how to tease your dad, don't you?" He strides his tongue along your neck towards your collar bone, his breath burns your skin.
You allow him to kiss your neck. You still think he is playing with you, so you start to get mad and pouty.
"I don't understand."
"That's alright. You'll find out soon enough." He whispers softly in your ear, and his voice is almost breathless with excitement.
"It's going to be a very special day for you." He leans in close to you and whispers softly into your ear. "Just let me take control for today, and we'll make today all about you and your special birthday." He seems to find your cluelessness endearing, and his own excitement grows as he can tell that you have no idea what he's going to do to you for your birthday.
He smiles and sits down next to you on the bed, brushing your hair out of your face.
"You're such a naive girl..." His voice is full of sultry playfulness, and he stares at you with hungry eyes. "Do you trust Daddy?"
"Of course I do."
He seems amused by your innocent trust in him.
"Do you trust me to make this day special for you?" His voice is still sultry, but he also speaks with a sense of tenderness and care now that it's clear that he has you exactly where he wants you—vulnerable, naive, and trusting of him.
"I don't understand anything you're saying."
"You don't need to understand." He smiles warmly at you and places a hand under your chin.
"Would you let Daddy control you for today?"
He seems so confident in his words and has a sly, almost mischievous grin playing at his lips.
Suddenly, you sit up. "Ohhh, I GOT IT NOW.. You want to play Barbie with me? like I am your Barbie, and you will be playing with me?"
His smile grows wider at your innocent reaction, and his eyes seem to be gleaming with anticipation now that you are beginning to understand what he has planned.
"Yes, that's exactly right." He chuckles softly as he watches you sit up. "I want to play with my doll today."
"Yes!!!! take control of me. I am your doll today," you say without still understanding its meaning.
Your innocent words fill Hiromi's heart with a deep sense of joy and excitement.
He can't help but chuckle softly as he watches you shift around excitedly.
"Oh, my dear girl, you have absolutely no idea what you're in for today." His voice is filled with admiration and satisfaction at the fact that you're so willing to give yourself over to him.
Your innocent and lively attitude warms Hiromi's heart as he watches you lay back in a lifeless pose.
"My precious little doll..." His voice has taken on a much more sensual tone as he gazes down at you.
He places his hand on your cheek and strokes it playfully while he speaks. His other hand plays with the hem of your top.
"Let me change the dress on my Barbie."
You lift your arms up just like a lifeless doll, allowing him to open your top.
The playful expression on your face excites Hiromi's heart, and he chuckles softly to himself as he removes your top.
"You really are just like a doll to me, you know that?" He strokes your hair fondly and seems to enjoy the innocent look on your face.
His caress makes your body shiver with sensations, and you can feel his breath blowing against your neck.
"I will paint your face with my makeup. You will look really pretty. My very own pretty little Barbie girl."
You giggle excitedly.
"My little Barbie girl..."
Hiromi continues to caress your body as he speaks. He begins to move his hand down toward your chest.
He caresses your breasts, gently brushing your nipples.
He rests his head on one arm while he plays with your nipples with the other hand.
He grins at your playful expression, his fingers making you squirm on the bed.
"My little Barbie girl..."
You slowly turn to look at his face and at his hands.
He notices you looking over at his hands, and he smiles softly. His eyes are filled with admiration and a touch of pride as he sees you staring at him.
"Yes, my little doll... Look at me."
He chuckles softly, enjoying your reactions. He continues to caress your chest, watching you squirm on the bed with his hand.
He gets on top of you and starts kissing your cheek, then your neck. His eyes never leaving your face.
"My little doll is blushing at my touch. She is so responsive."
He places a small peck on your lips.
"I love to play with you, my doll," he says, keeping on speaking to you while his other hand goes down to take off your shorts.
"Would you like to wear a dress or a skirt?"
"Anything Daddy wants to put on me"—your voice trembles.
His hands go down to the thighs, pulling one up to caress your inner thighs.
His hands slide slowly up and down your thigh, causing you to shiver and gasp.
He moves himself higher on the bed to hover above you as his hands caress your thighs.
"My little doll is so sensitive to my touch. I wonder where else she is sensitive to my touch."
He smiles widely at you as his fingers trail along your clad clitoral area.
You gasp at his touch.
He chuckles softly at the playful expression on your face, his eyes shining brightly with mischievous excitement.
"I would like to paint you with my make-up first.".
Hiromi gets on top of you, unbuckling his belt and finally freeing his member with a loud groan.
"Will my little doll work to get the makeup?"
"W-what is that?" Your mouth drops. His huge, hardened shaft stands erect, leaking some cum.
"It's my..."
He seems at a loss for words, his voice trailing off.
His face flushes with a deep blush when he sees your innocent reaction to his freeing himself.
"I think we should just get the makeup ready first... Don't worry about that for now. Now hold your hands out so I can put the makeup on, little doll."
His voice is still filled with a playful tone as he reaches out to grab your hands.
Your eyes widen as he guides your hand and places it on his dick.
Your expression encourages him to continue.
"You're way too cute." He glances at your small hand, trying to squeeze him.
He slowly pulls your hand up, putting it against his lower lips, nibbling on your index finger, and then placing it back on his dick.
"Rub it and press it gently. It won't come out so easily. You have to work for that," he whispers seductively.
"I don't know how to."
"I can show you." He whispers seductively, his voice filled with a sultry tone.
He moves your hand in his and along his shaft, rubbing himself up and down.
"Yeah, just like that."
He can see how your face turned red, but that does not stop him from continuing to show you how to rub him.
His breaths become longer and deeper as he watches you, and his voice becomes increasingly sensual with each word he speaks.
He can see how excited your innocent behavior is making him, and he is enjoying every second of it.
Your inexperienced movements make him feel in control, and with every movement, you make him feel more and more aroused.
"Where is the cream?"
His breath becomes even more ragged, and his face flushes more as his body begins to twitch with excitement.
"You're so impatient."
He stops and leans to get closer to your face.
"If you want the cream fast, then you have to lap your tongue on it like candy. Does my doll like candies?"
You nod and take his shaft to your mouth, licking the tip.
He can feel your tongue sliding across the tip of his breath.
"It's salty," you say, sliding your tongue across his whole length. His mouth opened wide, and his body begins to shiver.
"You realized that it wasn't just simple cream, didn't you?"
"It's a special cream?" You keep licking him and lapping at his tip.
"Yes, a very special cream." He seems incredibly aroused as his breath becomes even more ragged, and you can feel his body twitch beneath you.
Your innocent and playful reaction is making it extremely hard for him to control himself.
He begins to twitch more intensely beneath you, and his breath continues to become even more strained.
His movements become even more intense, and he starts to arch his back slightly.
"Ahh... Aaaah!" At this point, his voice begins to become more agitated as he struggles to remain in control.
He looks up at your innocent eyes, eyeing his face while you play your tongue on him, and he is almost on the verge of losing his cool and just taking you right here and now.
"Ahh, my little doll..." He seems desperate for you to continue on.
"Pls, daddy, I am so eager for your cream."
"I know."
He places his hands on your head, and his grip becomes tighter on your head as he looks at you.
Your innocent behavior continues to take him further away, and he suddenly pushes you down on him, thrusting his dick into your throat and making you choke.
"Mghn?"
He pulls you closer to him as his body continues to shiver. He seems to be struggling to remain in control, and he seems to be unable to control himself anymore. He's beginning to breathe very hard as he grips your head even tighter.
Your teary eyes start to cause his mind to break, and his grip becomes even tighter, as if he wants to crush you against him. He can't even speak anymore; it's just incoherent mutters as his body trembles.
Your jaw starts aching, and you accidentally press your teeth against his shaft.
He lets out a loud groan as he feels your teeth on him. He grips your head even harder as he starts to whisper again.
"You're a bad little doll." He mutters as his voice cracks, and his breaths become even more strained as he pushes your head down on his length one more time.
Tears roll down your cheek as angry eyes spray upon him.
"My doll is angry with her dad now?"
He starts thrusting into your throat again. Drools slide down your mouth.
"Ah." His voice takes on a more seductive tone, and his smile grows more mischievous.
"Is my doll angry that I'm not giving her what she wants quick enough?"
You make a whimpering hum.
He bites his lip as his body continues to tremble. He takes his thumb and gently wipes the tear from your cheek.
"I see, I see, my dear." He runs his fingers gently through your hair as he caresses your cheek. "You're so desperate already, aren't you?"
He slows down his thrusts in order to tease you.
You squeeze his dick again with your teeth.
The little nibble causes him to let out a louder grunt than you'd expect considering how delicate your bites are.
"You're such a bad doll... And now you're even angry with me."
He runs his hands through your hair as he takes his dick out of your mouth and stares deep into your eyes.
"Do you want me to punish bad dolls?"
You wipe your mouth and give him an evil smirk.
"What's that, hmm? My doll is so curious as to what kind of punishment I will use."
He caresses your lips with his fingertips while he speaks.
"You are not being a good doll, and I'm going to punish you for it."
His voice is becoming increasingly playful, but at the same time, his touches still seem to make your skin tingle and shiver.
He takes off his white shirt and lays on the bed. He pulls you towards him.
"D-dad-"
"My doll, sit on my face."
As you are going to protest, he pulls you close again and yanks your panties off. His spreads your legs apart, his fingers parting your wet labia. He flips you so that you are now on top of him as his breath hits directly on your cunt, making you squirm in sudden sensation.
"Let's see how you respond to this."
With every word, he intentionally blows over your pussy , making you mewl and wrap your thighs around his face.
He feels you squirm once again, so he pulls his shirt, which was lying on the bed, and ties it to your hand, placing your hands above his hair.
He gives your clit a gentle lick, you arch in response.
As he feels you arch, he's eyes roll back slightly with excitement and then open up again with a deep and primal urge.
His breathing grows deeper and heavier as his lips brush against you, sucking on your clit then tongue slides against your entrance.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Shhh," he mumbles against your skin, kissing your inner thigh.
"M-my.. I"
He chuckles and presses you down on him; his hand grips you tightly to stop you from squirming.
"Please, I am going to release something. Stop."
Hiromi smirk. His tongue, continuously flicking on your clit.
You feel a strange warmth building inside you.
You grip his hair tighter while riding his face, your hips unconsciously buck against his face. Thighs fasten around his head as you arch back to release.
"Daddy," you say, with his tongue still on your clit , gently teasing and making you overly sensitive.
"Let it out..."
"G-gah," your whole body vibrates with every breath that hits against your clit. Your heart starts to beat quicker.
You can see him licking his lips, and he pulls away from you.
"Did it feel good?"
"What was that?" you ask, avoiding eye contact.
"Was my doll so nervous that she couldn't even look at her daddy's face?" He says it in a teasing tone.
His lips curl into a playful smile as he wraps his arms around you again, his body pressed against yours as he pulls you close to him.
You're suddenly caught off guard by his actions and before you knew it, he leans his head towards you, and he suddenly presses his lips against yours. His breath is hot and heavy. He pushes you down on the bed, and his hand travels to your oversensitive clit.
"Do you like your own taste?"
He gives you a peck once more, and the feeling of you licking his lips causes him to smirk. He inserts two of his fingers inside you, scissoring and stretching your hole. You moan and struggle against him, and your movements makes him even more aroused.
"You're good, very good... Now, the final part of getting the cream."
"Why is it so hard to get the cream? It must be really special."
"Oh, this cream is very special. It's my secret recipe. You won't be able to get it from anywhere but me." He chuckles softly before pulling his fingers out and whispering to you again, getting on top of you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Just a bit more, my doll. We're almost there."
He pushes himself inside your wetness.
"Aaaah~" you scream out in sudden thrust.
He stares into your pain-inflicted face.
"Does my doll feel hurt?"
He starts moving slowly.
"Yes, d- don't move."
He can feel your eyes begin to tear up and your body shudder as the feeling gets harder and harder to bear. He swirls his tongue on your hardened nipples and squeezes your breasts gently.
He pulls you closer to him and whispers softly in your ear, "I know I'm being too rough with you, but please bear with me just for a little bit more. The feeling will be worth it. Trust me."
"You're such a good little doll that even after all that pain and discomfort, you still trust your dad." He caresses your tear-stained cheek as he begins to speed up.
Hiromi's voice becomes more and more frantic as the pace increases. You feel a strange warmth growing between your legs as his thrusts start getting sloppier and rougher. His hand travels down your neck, slightly choking you while swirling his tongue with yours.
"Does my doll want more?"
"I want the cream," you moan.
"That's good to know...Don't be impatient; good things will come to those who wait."
He whispers softly into your ear.
Hiromi pulls out of you and looks at you with a smirk. He pushes your legs onto your chest and inserts himself once more, his dick reaching deeper and hits your cervix.
"I-I can't breathe", you grab onto his neck.It becomes unbearable for you to take it anymore.
"Just a bit more, my doll; we're almost there."
Hiromi begins to kiss you passionately as he grips you tightly again.
His tongue starts to move to your earlobe, nibbling the tip.
"Ah, good doll, I see you're taking this really well."
He begins to move faster than before, and your body shudders from the intensity of the sensation.
"Good, good, don't stop taking it in doll."
His breath becomes more rapid as he pulls you even closer against him, and he whispers into your ear.
"You're taking it so well, my doll."
You moan, and your body starts shaking again.
His breath becomes heavier as he speeds up, making the sensation even more powerful and clear.
"You're a good doll, such a good little doll... Keep taking it; keep taking it all in."
His voice becomes more desperate, and his pace increases even more.
Your stomach tightens as you release again with a loud moan. Hiromi slows down his pace, letting you calm your nerves. Your walls clamp around his shaft, squeezing them. His breath becomes heavier, and he gets to the edge too. He thrusts a few more times before spilling inside you, stuffing your pussy with his infertile seed.
"Was it good?"
Hiromi looks into your eyes with a playful grin as he pulls out of you, watching his seed drool down your clamping pussy.
You breathe through your mouth as your heart beat starts getting back to normal.
Hiromi stares at you for a bit; he seems pleased with your response. He pulls you close again and kisses you with a soft smile.
"Good, doll, was it everything you had hoped for?"
"But my cream??"
He stares at you for a bit; your body is shaking from satisfaction, and he smiles. He laughs a bit and speaks up, "Alright."
He pushes two of his fingers into your dripping hole, making you flinch and arch back. He gathers some of his cum, applying it to your cheeks and lips.
You lick your lips and giggle.
"You like it?" Hiromi lays next to you, spooning you.
"Mhm..salty," you say, drowning in sleep.
He looks down at you and sees you begin to slowly drift asleep.
Hiromi can't help but grin as he pulls you close to him and kisses your head.
"My barbie"
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247 notes · View notes
rhadamanthes · 1 month
Text
Private lesson. Hiromi x reader
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word count : 1,6k
warnings: established relationship, piano sex, soft sex, fingering, humping, fluff, pregnancy kink, lot of pet names, breeding kink, doggy style, slight oral sex, this is soooo soft omg i can't believe it, fluff fluff fluff.
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"Mimi, look there's even a piano!" you squeal, dragging him toward it by his hand.
"Yes, it's nice baby" he chuckles following behind.
Hiromi, your boyfriend rented a hotel room for the night. For the past few weeks he's been working on a big case for his law firm and he finally finished it yesterday. You threw him a little surprise party with a few of his friends when he came home. He was happy but also told you that he wanted you to relax as you supported him through it: hence the hotel room. The sun is setting, giving the luxurious room a nice orange hue. 
"Before we order food and champagne let's give the room an inspection" you chirp excitedly, intertwining his arms with yours. Going through every room you praise the decoration claiming you want the same back home. In the bathroom you are ecstatic over the golden claw foot tub and all the products laying there. 
"Oh my god mimi can I take these back home? they're so cute" You say grabbing the miniature soaps and shampoo. 
"Let me check their policy first, yeah?" he laughs, rubbing your back softly.
"Avoiding me jail time? you're the perfect boyfriend!" you purr pressing a kiss over his cheek, he leans into the kiss pressing his nose on top of your head inhaling your scent. 
Going back to the living area you still can't believe there is a  grand piano in the room. Taking a seat on the large bench you pat the spot next to you inviting him to join. 
"Play me something" you ask with a dopey smile. Hiromi sits close to you nudging your thigh with his own.
"As you wish" he grins, focusing on the tiles. He extends his fingers and lets them move graciously on the white ivory. The sound coming from them is nothing offbeat like you thought, it's actually harmonious and  you recognize  "Sea of love" . You open your mouth in awe, not aware of this hidden talent. 
"Whaaaaat, Hiromi ! I didn't know you played piano, why didn't you tell me!" you gasp, hitting his shoulder lightly. 
"Well it never came up in the conversation and it would have felt like bragging" he answers with honesty.
"Who cares, this is so cool ! Teach me a few tricks" you say excitedly clapping your hands. 
"Ok" he laughs. His hands cross your shoulder to hover each of your hands, then place a warm kiss on your shoulder "You're ready?" he asks in a deep voice. 
The proximity makes you shiver as he's almost talking in your ear. Pursing your lips you nod your head.His fingers guide Yours over the tiles. You really try your best but you're not used to stretching your fingers like that, Hiromi guides you as best as he can with his own fingers being above yours but it ends up sounding messy. You both laugh at the broken melody. 
Taking a moment to really look at him you get lost in his dark eyes, his hair is combed backward but some stray strands graze his forehead, his nose, god, his nose. You like to trace it with your fingertips when he's asleep, when he's busy but still allow you in his lap, it's one of his most beautiful features, really. Beyond his good looks, he's a selfless person, he makes you feel safe, heard and more loved than you ever felt. Feeling your eyes on him, Hiromi feels the heat cripping up his cheek in a pinkish tone. You kiss him before he can say anything. A passionate kiss to show how much you care for him and how proud of him you are. 
His fingers that were hovering yours are now intertwined with each other he squeezes them as he moans into the kiss.Biting on his lips you let your tongue enter his mouth twirling it against his. Out of breath he breaks the kiss.
"I love you" you whispers looking in his eyes
"I love you too darling" he wastes no time answering.You feel butterflies in your stomach, smiling like a fool.
"Where were we ?" you giggle refocusing back on the piano.Lifting you from your spot, Hiromi helps you up on his lap. 
"It will be easier like that, don't you think, doll?" he asks, kissing the back of your shoulder. You nod your head and place your finger once more on the tiles. 
With a few tries you manage to make it sound less catastrophic but there's definitely room for improvement. Hiromi takes off his right hand from yours.
"You got this one right, let's focus on the other hm?" he asks, resting his free hand on your belly, tracing circles on it. His hands progressively go lower until it's tucked against your pussy. You're only wearing a skirt with stockings, you can feel the heat his skin radiates. You adjust yourself on his lap in an attempt to get some friction against your clit.
"Teacher, what are you doing ?" you tease.
"Giving you an encouragement, get the left hand right and you'll have a reward." 
You hum, grinding a few times against his crotch feeling a slight bulge. The pressure he applies on your cunt makes it hard for you to focus, you start to moan incoherently, vision blurring with the need to feel him all over you growing by the second. 
"What's wrong my dear ? you don't want to play anymore" he whispers in your ear biting at your skin. You just groan, grinding on him harder. "Hands on the frame." 
You oblige, grabbing your ankle he positions your knees on the bench. Understanding where he's idea is going, you arch your back to stick your ass out. glancing back at him with a sultry look. Never taking his eyes off you, Hiromi lifts your skirt, and slides down your panties. He chuckles a bit at how the piece of cloth sticks to your wet pussy. You groan as the cold air hits your private part. Hiromi smiles, petting your rump before spreading your folds with two of his slender fingers. 
"My pretty little pussy"he coos, kissing your entrance softly. you moan resting your head on the cold varnished wood. He licks at your clit a few times dipping his major and ring finger inside of you. 
"Mimi please fuck me" you beg feeling your palms sweating on the frame of the piano.
"Sure thing" he says curling his fingers one last time, making you shiver.
He spreads your legs wider on the bench and you feel his tip teasing your entrance. You back your ass on him to feel him inside, both of you moaning in the process. Gripping on your sides, Hiromi thrusts into your gummy walls, squeezing him in. His cock makes you feel full and he reaches deeper and deeper as he keeps fucking into you but it's not enough. Grabbing his tie you yank it toward you, needing him as close as possible. Surprised by your sudden move, Hiromi let one of his hands fly to the keys so he doesn't crush you under his weight. The disoriented sound steals a laugh from you, locking his lips with his in a heated kiss. His nail digs in your side, you know that I'll leave the mark you like. 
Hiromi gets lost in the feeling of you as always. It's your scent, the way your skin feels under his, the way you desire him and don't hide, your voice. Fuck it's you. From the day he first saw you he knew it was always going to be you. Pulling his tie incredibly closer, you thrust your ass back on his dick needing always more. A familiar knot forms in your belly, you want to cum in sync with him so badly. 
"Hiromi I love you" you say out of breath, tears menacing to rise at any moment. His brows furrowed his cheeks a light shade of pink, a few beads of sweat forming on his forehead.His pace accelerates and you can feel your legs give up under his powerful thrusts.
"Shit, I love you too baby" he says, calling your name between hushered breaths. "My angel, i'm going to put a ring on your finger" he groans "a-and make you a mom" His dick twitches at his own word. You're not better than him, clamping hard on his cock.
"Hiromi please yes!" you beg "Fuck, can't wait to see you with a swollen belly and tits full of milk" he pant keeping up his pace. 
A few more thrust and you cum undone reaching your climax. Hiromi follows you soon after, shooting all of his cum inside of you. Your body slumps on the piano producing hitting various keys and you can't help but laugh again. Hiromi's back shakes behind you laughing silently. Catching his breath Hiromi sits both your bodies on the bench and makes you face him. He caresses your hair, kissing your temple in a comfortable silence. 
"Were you serious about what you said ?" you ask in a weak voice, scared that he said these things in the heat of the moment.  Encasing your face with his hands, he makes you look at him.
"A hundred percent serious, the rest of my life is with you" he says pressing the back of your hands to his lips. The tears well up in your eyes. 
"We're getting married?" you ask cheerfully. 
"Yes my love" he smiles, kissing your hand once more. 
Overjoyed you lock your arms behind his neck and squeeze him in a deep kiss. This is the beginning of a long night after all. 
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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months
Text
She Missed Me v.2
Hiromi Higuruma
so i did write another version of this, but i like this one a bit better hahaha cus uh... there's penetration lmfao. also i actually edited this one. this one is also on AO3 :)
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established relationship (engaged woooo), pussy eating, Hiromi just being a munch meister, he literally talks to ur pussy like fr, vaginal sex, he talks u thru it, pet names, teeny tiny daddy kink, praise kink, implied cockwarming, soft sex, I guess its cute like if u squint
3.2k
MDNI
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To put it simply, Higuruma is in love with your pussy. He’s so in love with your pussy, actually. 
If he could, he would propose to it the same way he did to you just a few months ago. He will always love you more of course, but he would be more than happy to put it on paper, a loud and proud declaration of just how devoted he is to your cunt. 
The appearance, whether it’s freshly waxed and completely bare, or with a small little landing strip that guides him to the riches that are your slick folds. Or even when the hair is grown out, peach fuzz tickling his face as he gets ready to dive in and devour you. He really doesn’t care what he’ll find when he pulls your panties down. Better yet, when you lift up the cheeky little skirts and dresses you love wearing and showing him that you aren’t wearing any panties at all. Those times admittedly, turn him on to a degree that some may find alarming.
And that’s not all there is to love appearance wise, oh no. Far from it. When his hands finally do trail down and part your thighs, he always has to stop himself from salivating. Oh how he just loves seeing your little clit, adores sucking it into his mouth until it’s engorged and swollen. Watching you whine and cry out because it’s just too much for you to handle. But how can he really stop himself when he knows how good it feels for you (and in these instances, he ignores the self indulgence sucking on your bud provides for himself). It doesn’t stop there either. Seeing your folds glistening after he gets you off from clitoral stimulation alone, the excitement in knowing his tongue is going to add to the mess.
Then there’s the smell. He doesn’t even know how to describe it, but it’s just so invigorating. Not quite sweet but far from sour. A natural redolence that he wishes he can bottle up and spray whenever he needs a fix.
Lastly, there’s the taste. They always say save the best for last, but even he can admit that he can be a glutton. There aren’t enough words on the planet to describe just how much he loves your nectar; a true ambrosia that is incomparable to anything else that has landed on his taste buds. He can spend hours between your thighs, licking and sucking at you like a man who has been stranded at sea for years and is now relishing in something delectable for the first time.
A true amalgamation that makes him savor every look, every sniff, every touch, every taste.
It's nothing short of an obsession. It would be easy to argue that it's borderline sick how much he loves your pussy, but it's an affliction he wishes to never rid himself of.
It’s the only thing on his mind when he’s having a long day at work, information pertaining to the cases of his clients paling in comparison to the thought of having his face buried between your thighs. Physically he’s sitting across from a client, taking notes and nodding but mentally he’s swimming in your essence, drowning himself in your arousal. He's visited many countries and has indulged in many delicacies, picturesque sights and delicious food people would kill to experience as often as he has. Yet, he feels the most solace when he's home with the greatest treasure there is.
When he can finally log off of his computer and make his way home, he knows there’s only one remedy to the drawn out day. Lucky for him, what he needs is always in stock.
The aroma of your cooking hugs his nostrils when he enters the house, but there’s another scent that will provide him with even more ecstasy. After shrugging off his coat and standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his shoulders slump in relaxation when he sees you. A true virtuoso in everything you do, you move around the kitchen with ease, reaching to one of the higher cabinets where some of the many seasonings are. Summer Walker’s voice over the bluetooth speaker prevents you from hearing his footsteps, so he just stares in admiration for a moment. 
Working always finds itself to be fruitful when he has you to come home to. As you bob your head and hum along softly to the song playing he takes a step forward letting his arms encircle your waist, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he sighs against the softness of your body.
“Hi, ‘Romi,” you say softly, letting your body relax into his touch, melding into him. It’s almost like a reflex, letting your body be cradled by him.
“Hi, baby,” he murmurs, lips moving lower to kiss at the supple skin of your neck, hands pulling you back against him. 
“How was work?” you question.
“Long. So long.” He can admit to himself he’s already a bit hard, cock stirring from the moment he parked in the driveway. Probably even before that if he's being completely truthful. His pants were a bit tight as soon as he left the office. “Need you to help me relax.”
“How?” Now, you aren’t oblivious to the affection he loves showering your cunt with, but hearing him saying it always fans the flames of your arousal. Hearing the man that's always so put together voice aloud his lewd thoughts just always riles you up. “Tell me.”
"You really wanna hear?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips and is buried into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands dip down to the apex of your thighs. He's never been much of a patient man, letting one thumb brush over your clothed clit. “Need to see her,” he says softly. “Been missing and thinking about her all day.”
The words make you clench around nothing, and you can already feel his hardening cock against your ass. The big shirt of his that you're wearing is no match for his bulge.
“C’mon,” Higuruma mutters, lips still sucking against the sensitive portions of your neck, one hand still working at teasing your clit over the shirt. “I know she missed me too.”
And in the blink of an eye you’re sitting on the couch—cooking dinner abruptly paused—with his head sandwiched between your thighs. The slight stubble from a few days of not shaving tickles, but you don't mind.
You can always tell how his day went from how needy he is. On days he doesn’t find as taxing he always starts with showering the lips on your face with kisses, letting his tongue claim the inside of your mouth. A day like today though, the lips below your waist get attention first. You have no issues with that though, none at all.
A small wet patch sits directly in his line of vision as he lets out a sigh of content. “She’s crying for me,” he mumbles. “Guess she missed me as much as I missed her.”
He inches in closer, letting his nose trail up the length of your clothed slit, moaning as your scent invades his nostrils. Your wetness against the bridge of his nose is just a plus as he makes his way up to your clit. He does it again, just letting his nose nuzzle against your cunt, letting your arousal coat his face, breathing in your scent. Already so pussy drunk and he hasn’t even had a taste yet.
His palms find sanctuary on top of your thighs and squeeze as he continues to let his face hug your cunt, nose brushing against your clit deliciously (and very much deliberately) each time.
“Sh-She did,” you breathe out, chest heaving each time he nuzzles against your sensitive bud. He’s doing it on purpose, just teasing, but you know better than to rush him.
“I can tell, baby.” He looks up, lust filling every space in those negative canthal eyes you adore so much. “Gonna take care of her now, don’t worry.” He pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, eyes filled with merriment when he sees your glistening slit, wet spot having grown since he got comfortable between your legs.
His impatience can never be confused with sloppiness. Without wasting time he flattens his tongue against your slit, coating every single one of his taste buds with your nectar. His greed always makes the movements of his tongue calculated, meticulous. He moans in satisfaction, being able to enjoy this reward for sitting in that stuffy office all day. Tropical vacations are nice, but having his tongue lapping at your cunt provides him with just as much tranquility. There isn't a five star meal that can compare to your taste, the one that he's been addicted to from the very first moment you blessed him by opening up your legs and telling him you've never came from head before.
Boy did he show you. And he showed you again, and again, and again.
A moan leaves your lips as his tongue continues to lick at your folds. You know better than to squirm, having been accused of trying to run from him before, but he never understands just how intense the feeling is. He can eat you every night for weeks and it wouldn't change the pleasure he's able to provide you with.
"Fuck, really needed this today." He doesn’t even care how hard he is, only caring about shoving his tongue as deep as he physically can inside your cunt. He keeps working at you, slurping and sucking, letting his head move from side to side.
"Hi--Hiromi, th-that's s'good."
"Yeah?" His hands grip your plush thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he continues dragging his tongue up and down your slit, teasing at your rings of muscle with the point of his tongue as he does. "God, she's trying to drown me," he chuckles lightly, admiring the slickness of your heat. Swimming has always been one of his strong suits though, so he dives back in with more vigor this time. All the while his nose bumps against your clit, little bud past the point of swollen but there isn’t a chance you’ll tell him to stop.
“Always so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs, giving you momentary reprieve as he plants wet kisses along your inner thighs. You’re able to catch your breath for only a moment, but he’s not done. Far from it. 
Two masterful fingers circle your entrance before pushing their way inside, met with little resistance as his digits are instantly being hugged by your warm walls. “Already squeezing me so tight." His cock throbs as your walls grip his digits. "I just knew she was thinking about me, maybe I should quit working so I can take care of her full time.” You writhe, cunt clenching around his digits as he pushes them in so he’s knuckle deep. He curls them so they brush against that sweet spot inside of you, a whine escaping from your lips. "What do you think of that, baby?"
"Hah—I—"
He presses against your g-spot again, making it hard to speak. "Hm?" He isn’t expecting an answer, just watching your body contort in pleasure. "Want Daddy to take care of this pussy all day, don't you?"
"Ye-Yeah," you whimper out, hips shifting.
"Maybe one of these days, Daddy still has to make money to take care of you," he mumbles, eyeing your clit. “But, let me give her a kiss. Know she missed me the most.”
Your breath catches in your throat when his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking the pearl—his crowned jewel—into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tighten and his cocks throbs in tandem with the pulsing of your cunt as he continues curling his fingers against your g spot. He doesn’t care how loud you moan or how fidgety you are, undeterred from his make out session with your cute little clit. Oh, how much he missed her.
It's impossible to part with someone you've missed when you see them. He only raises momentarily to let his tongue lap at the wetness enveloping his fingers before he’s back on your clit, alternating between hard and soft sucks.
Every moan of his that vibrates against your clit brings the band holding your orgasm closer and closer to snapping. He presses one hand against your stomach, applying more pressure while he sucks your clit harshly, peering up at you as he does. “Come on,” he urges. “Wanna taste more of her, come for me baby. Give it all to me.”
“F-Fuckkk.” Listening to Higuruma’s demands should be one of the ten commandments. His words make you release instantly, catapulting to a plane of pure ecstasy as your walls clamp down around his fingers erratically.
He slowly pulls them out, slurping at the string of wetness that connects his fingers to your cunt. Next he laps up your cum, shamelessly moaning. “Fuck.” He looks down at his cock, desperately straining against his slacks. “I think there’s a little bit more I can do to show how much I missed her,” he says, undoing the button on his slacks. “Let me show you baby.”
Your chest is still heaving from your orgasm, but you lay on your back on the couch as Higuruma swiftly undresses, his slacks, blazer, dress shirt and boxer briefs in a haphazard pile on the floor.
He lays on top of you, lifting up the fabric of your shirt to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. The peak stiffens and you can’t help but moan as his hot tongue swirls around the bud. He kisses the space in between your breasts as his mouth gives your other nipple the same treatment, never one to miss pleasuring every part of your body. As his teeth gently bite down on your nipple, his hand is guiding his stiff cock to your entrance, tip rubbing against your swollen bud.
“Oh.” You writhe beneath him at the combined sensations, the light pain of his teeth along with the overstimulation of your clit, but it’s good, so.good.
“I know, I know baby,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Need to feel her…”
You nod, desperate to be stretched and filled with his cock, the only one you think about and crave.
He lets the head of his cock brush against your clit again, letting his precome smear over it before he goes down to your slit, a grunt leaving his lips as he makes his way inside. 
And how could he forget to mention the feel of your cunt in his earlier soliloquy. It’s tightness, its warmth, the way your walls have molded to take every single inch of him. Like a hot bubble bath after a demanding day, a cup of hot cocoa on the coldest day of the year, a sweater embroidered with his name on it, he finds comfort and ease when he’s buried deep inside of you.
The soft hairs on his chest brush against your breasts as he lets his weight settle on top of you, hips pressed together as the last inch of his heavy cock finds its home in your warm walls. His cock pulses as you clamp, a practiced song and dance as your arms snake around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist. 
You’re always so warm, lighting up Higuruma from the inside out. The only thing that’s cold is the band of the engagement ring on your finger on the back of his neck, but that iciness is as sweet as ice cream; a reminder that you belong to each other, an alignment of affection and mingling of souls.
“Hiromi,” you pant against his lips, grinding your hips against him. 
“Just give me a minute,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours as his cock throbs again. “God, wish I could just stay like this all day with you.”
Your chest heaves against his as you urge his head closer to yours, capturing his lips in a kiss. The exchange of spit as your tongues slide against each other is amorous as ever, his hand moving up to gently caress the side of your face as the kiss grows more intense.
He starts to move, hips retracting and plunging into you while your lips are still connected. Each thrust is deep, reaching that spot inside of you that makes your legs tremor. But you still cling to him, insistent on having him as close to you as possible.
“God, she’s always sucking me in,” he grits out as his hips drive forward again. It’s a particularly deep thrust, one where you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Yet, it feels so natural, like your body was made just for him to blissfully invade with his girth. “So perfect, so fucking perfect,” he pants out, daring to press his hips evern closer even though he’s already buried to the hilt inside of you. “And she’s mine, you’re mine.”
His lips find yours again as you whine, moaning into his mouth as he continues to roll his hips into you, filling you tenderly with his devotion. 
“Oh—ah—”
“Stay with me, baby.” His thumb grazes the apple of your cheeks as your eyes start to flutter close in the same fashion that your cunt starts to quiver around him. “Need to see that pretty face when you come, please.”
Even with the pleasure threatening to drown you, Higuruma is the lifevest that always keeps you bobbing on the surface. “That’s it,” he says. “Good girl, you’re so close.” He pushes in slowly, feeling his own cock throbbing, imminent release on the horizon. “Fuck.” His hips draw back and roll forward languidly, the sounds of your collective pants and your cunt squelching roaring in his ears.
“Hi—Hiromi—I—” 
“Let me have it.” He rocks into you a final time, a rough thrust that makes your eyes widen, the barest color of your eyes visible around your pupils as you come around him. The far off twinkling stars in your vision are no match for Higuruma’s face that you stay focused on through your orgasm. He stays buried inside you, grunting as your cunt continues to spasm around him. “Did so good for me baby, fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too,” you answer back breathless, willing your shaky legs to stay wrapped around him. “Wanna feel you too,” you mewl.
“Yeah,” he whispers, speeding up his motions, fucking you into an overstimulated state. “Gonna give you all of me, just—fuck.”
His lips crash against yours as he fills you with the torrents of his passion, a stream of white that coats the lining of your walls. His cock twitches as he empties into you, swallowing your moans with his mouth as his pelvis melds with yours. 
Once your lips part his body stays on top of yours like a weighted blanket, providing you with all of the security and comfort that you could possibly need. 
“Hiromi,” you say softly, face flushed, post orgasmic bliss glazing your eyes over. “I need to finish dinner.”
“We can order out,” he answers, burying his face into your neck. Even as his cum starts to leak out, making both of your skin sticky, he keeps his cock lodged in your softness. “Just need to stay with her a little longer.”
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