CONTENT WARNING. MDNI, fem! reader, law student! reader, lawyer higuruma, 6.9k words, age gap (24&36), fluff & smut, slow burn? game of thrones references, porn with plot, unprotected sex, office sex, rough? sex, sloppy makeouts, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, higuruma is an EATER, spit, praise, choking, pussy spanking, dirty talk, belly bulge, big dick higuruma, he loves eye contact, dacryphilia? he’s mean & cocky if you squint. enjoy! ⇢
your pen sits between your teeth as your eyes switch from the thick textbook splayed open on your kitchen island and your laptop screen.
the cursor blinks for the millionth time in your setup word document. countless words plastered in that irritating format of times new roman size twelve that you’ve done a thousand times over.
words mutter under your breath as you multitask in reading, taking notes, and applying the newfound information to your assignment.
“hey, is your prof still asking you guys to take internships?”
your roommate comes from hibernating out of her room, eyes glued to her phone as she saunters over to the kitchen.
you barely catch the words that fly out her mouth, brows furrowing as you look up from your work for the first time in hours. the swivel stool you sat on creaks as you sit up straighter, cringing from how long you held that crouching position.
“uh…. no.” you shake your head, confused as to why she brought it up. she was never the type to dwell on your life as a law student unless overhearing about a case study that seemed ‘too juicy’ to skip out on. “deadline’s like, next week so they’re just talking about the paper due the week after to describe our experience so far.”
“oh.” she says, sounding surprised. “well, did you find anything?”
you hum. “i’ve got an interview tomorrow. it’s multi-hire so i’ve got a good chance. why?”
“nothing really.” she shrugs, taking a breath as she scavenges the freezer, grabbing the first pint of ice cream she sees. “a friend of my cousin works at this law firm and i think she said they’re looking for a temp since she’s going out of the country for a while.”
you nod, chewing on the end of your pen. “send me their info. i’ll check it out.”
so that’s exactly what you do. your roommate helps you exchange information with this friend who you’ve learned to be is a young woman named shimizu. she worked as a assistant for an independent defense attorney, higuruma hiromi.
you’ve heard his name a few times from news outlets, primarily known to take on difficult cases but nonetheless highly skilled and quite honestly a prime example of what you hoped to become as far as talent.
shimizu was going overseas for a little over half a year. that’s entirely way more than what your assignment calls for but you would be paid well plus it could serve as the perfect job to strengthen your experience in law.
it didn’t take much for shimizu to hire you, her eagerness to hurry up and leave was clear. she sent you an email describing her normal routine, things to keep an eye on that higuruma normally forgets and a warning to just be patient for any cases he picks up.
naturally, you were nervous. palms sweating as you clutched your purse and tucked the folder shimizu provided tightly between your arm.
your heels clack with each step you make up into the building then finally, in bold letters, ‘higuruma law office’. you knock, looking around as you wait for a response.
“come in.”
the voice is so deep it sends chills down your spine. anxiety pools your chest as you twist the handle, making slow hesitant steps into the office.
it’s small but not cramping and fairly neat. you continue forward, making your presence known. who you assume to be higuruma sits at a chair, pen scribbling against a paper at an incredible speed.
he doesn’t look up at first, deeply sighing and too focused on the work in front of him. that is until he takes notice of your silence following your entry. his eyes immediately lift, dragging over your attire for a momentary second. “i’m sorry.” he clears his throat, standing then approaching you with his hand out. “how can i help you?”
“i… uhm… i’m y/n.” you meet his hand with a nervous smile. “i’m filling in for shimizu?” it’s embarrassing how unsure you sound as if you hadn’t met shimizu yourself telling you detail for detail about the duties of the job.
his brows furrow slightly as he slowly slips his hand from your weak grip. he checks his watch then runs his fingers through his hair. “right, right. i forgot about that…” he sighs, moreso to himself and then nods, pointing to the empty cubicle beside his. “take a seat, did shimizu already inform you on what we’re currently working on?”
you nod, carefully setting your belongings down and making yourself comfortable on the chair.
“could i see? if you don’t mind.” he stands over you, watching as you turn the monitor on with quickness and log in to your email account, surfing through the important ones you had starred before finally landing on shimizu’s.
higuruma leans over, his presence immediately makes you feel small and you can slightly feel the weight of his chest as he gently grabs the mouse from your hand.
you keep your eyes on the screen, fiddling with your fingers while he looks at the lengthy details relayed. suddenly, he takes a breath then clicks forward and slides the keyboard over.
“looks good.” he finally stands, eyes dropping down to you. “we’ll just be working on that for today. if anything changes i’ll let you know.”
for the first three weeks of working for higuruma goes the same way. coming into the office, saying hello, and him sharing any updates on the current case. some days call for extremely long hours, others are your typical. then there were days like today where you’d be traveling together and have to stay overnight at hotels.
one room, separate beds.you and higuruma hadn’t crossed that bridge of being comfortable with one another just yet. it was still awkward smiles and brief exchanges of conversation only in relation to work.
with the work day being over, you showered and decided to walk around the hotel for a bit, maybe grab a bite to eat. you also brought your textbooks and laptop so you could use the time to study for the baby bar you have coming up.
you sat at a table, eating as you focus on your studies. no more than half an hour passes when a figure approaches your table.
“mind if i sit?”
your eyes lift at the deep voice, widening for a short second as you realize it to be higuruma’s. he stands there in a plain black t-shirt and same colored plaid pajama pants with a plate of food in his hand.
it was different to see him in a more cosy state rather than being suited up. when you focus on the fact he’s still there, tilting his head as he waits on your response you sit up and nod a bit frantically.
“yes—yes, of course. please sit.” you gesture to the seat ahead of you which he takes.
it’s silent for a moment as you’re more frigid now, eyes glued to your book without reading a damn thing. higuruma pops a fry into his mouth, looking around the semi-packed dining area before returning his attention to you. “you’re still in school?”
you nod, “in my first year.”
he raises a subtle brow at that which you don’t even notice considering you’ve found it difficult to always make eye contact with him.
“first year?” he hums, chewing down on another fry. “you’re young.”
“i guess…” you laugh shyly. “it’s not like you’re old.”
he smiles at that, leaning in with his elbows on the table as he continues to take singular bites of his food. “you don’t think so? how old do you think i am?”
you shrug, finally lifting your eyes to scan the features of his face.
he was obviously older than you but you only deduced that from the way he talks and conducts himself yet he didn’t share any facial features that gave away his age.
“thirty?” you squint, not wanting to guess too high and he gets offended.
he chuckles, shaking his head. “no, but i’m honored you thought that low. i’m thirty six.”
“still young.” you smile, dropping your eyes back down.
“so what’re you learning?” he sighs, leaning back again, spreading his long legs to be more comfortable and points at your books.
“nothing really.” you mumble. “just studying for the baby bar.”
“wow…” he nods partially in shock, suddenly thinking of the age gap between you. it’s been so long since his days of staying up all day and all night long when preparing for that exam. “you think you’ve got it? i could help you out.”
you definitely don’t got it. there were still at least another two months before you’d have to take the exam. all the current information you were learning was still processing and quite honestly you had a habit of doubting your skills and weren’t sure if you’d be able to get the score you’re aiming to achieve.
you shake your head at higuruma’s offer. “no, it’s okay. you already have so much going on. i rather not add to that.”
“i’m offering.” he smiles warmly, wanting to assure that it wasn’t a big deal as he crosses his arms lazily across his chest.
it’s only for second that you ogle the surprising size of his bicep when it’s contracted. you shake your head again. “i’ll be fine. thank you though. i appreciate it.”
higuruma hums not pushing any further on the subject. “do you drink?” he asks after swallowing down a bite of his burger.
“sometimes.” you shrug, clicking through your documents of notes that you were hardly paying attention to with higuruma making small conversation.
“would you like to drink now?”
the second time you look at him you see the teasing look in his own as if he’s urging you to loosen up for the night. he’s clearly in the mood to get to know you. perhaps one night of a few drinks wouldn’t be so bad.
“i suppose…” you sport a bashful smile, clicking out of your tabs and shutting down your laptop. you set it aside with your textbooks as higuruma orders your first round of drinks.
it starts off timid as if he’s testing the waters with some cocktails then began to try a little of everything. tropical drinks, shots, beer, and wine. of course you limited yourself to one of each— aside from the shots due to the fact you had a busy day tomorrow but it was surely enough to get you a bit passed tipsy.
higuruma proved to be holding his liquor better than you, smiling fondly as you babble on about the targaryen family line. at first he was curious about a video you were laughing at from tiktok and had to explain it was from game of thrones. you then learned he never watched the show and thought he’d find major interest in it.
you would yap about the politics, power, family, loyalty, and corruption. though once you got to the targaryens, higuruma had to pause at the mention of inbreeding.
“so what’s the difference between velaryons’s and targaryen’s?”
“velaryon and targaryen are house names.” you giggle, toying with your straw. “family lines. being valyrian is like, their racial background.”
“interesting…” he nods, sipping on his rum & coke. “and what’s the relationship between uh… daenerys? and jon?”
“i really shouldn’t be telling you this.” you laugh. “don’t you want to watch it now?”
“…i guess you’re right.” he grins, followed by a sigh as he stretches his arms over his head. “should we watch it tonight?”
you check the time on your phone, it was late. nearing midnight. it was tempting to indulge in a late night watch of one of your favorite shows but you’d probably regret it by the morning.
you bite down on your bottom lip, hiding the smile that wants to show. “it’s late…” you sigh out. “we probably shouldn’t.”
“then let’s start now.” he urges, opening his wallet and dropping a few dollars to cover the tab and allow the server to end their night with a more than generous tip. “c’mon.” he gestures his head, holding his hand out to you.
even with being a little drunk, you still felt shy coming in such close contact with higuruma. as you lifted your hand to connect with his, he guided you through the hotel and it grew quieter upon reaching the elevators.
he’s still holding your hand, waiting for them to open. you attempt to ignore the way his thumb gently brushes against your skin rhythmically and how this must look to bystanders. the thought is cut short when the doors finally split open and higuruma lets go of your hand to palm your lower back.
higuruma follows you in, pressing the floor number. you stand side by side, him humming a soft tune whilst you stare down at your feet to avoid meeting his stare that you could feel burning into you.
it was like a breath of fresh air upon reaching your floor and seeing the doors open. higuruma places his hand to your back again, guiding you down the quiet hall before reaching your room.
he presses the keycard to the sensor, following you in. you take slow steps inside, dropping your laptop and textbook onto your bed.
“what’s it on?” he huffs, turning on the tv.
you make yourself comfortable under the sheets, sighing in relief from the cold. “hbo.”
he surfs for a few seconds before shaking his head. “i don’t think this tv has that.”
“oh…” you frown then look at your laptop. “i mean, we could watch it on my laptop?”
he turns, thinking on what that means.
you both knew that meant laying down on the same bed, next to each other. he rubs his chin in thought. “only if you’re okay with it.”
your body grows hot but you nod slowly, scooting over to make space for him. he eyes the empty space for a few seconds, making hesitant steps forward. “are you sure? we could always watch it another time.”
“…it’s okay.” you spoke softly. “i want to watch it with you.”
he smiles at that, proceeding to lift up the covers and tuck himself under the covers beside you. the immediate warmth of his skin brushes yours and the two of you look at each other the moment he’s settled.
his eye contact is so intense and… unsettling almost that it has chills run down your spine. you want to look away but higuruma speaks up before you can.
“you’re really shy for a future lawyer.”
your brows furrow at his statement. “m’not.”
“you are.” he chuckles, eyes low as he can feel the crash from all the drinks overtake him.
“i think it’s just you.” you boldly argue.
he raises a brow. “yeah? what about me makes you so shy?”
you open your mouth but nothing can follow through especially with him so close you can feel your stomach churn when you catch yourself looking at his lips. “just… shut up.” you huff, grabbing for your laptop.
higuruma laughs, watching you log into hbo, searching for game of thrones. he steps out of the bed momentarily to turn off the lights before you can press start.
you settle the laptop atop both your legs, sighing as you press play on the first episode.
within the first thirty minutes, you fall asleep, your head rested against higuruma’s shoulder. he stayed up through three episodes, thoroughly enjoying the cause of events but forced himself to go to sleep or else he’d be having a rough day.
by the time the morning comes and your alarm goes off, you groan softly, eyes struggling to flutter open. you aimlessly search for your phone, shutting off the annoying sound before laying back down but then you feel a touch of skin.
you fully open your eyes, face twisting in fear at the sight of higuruma in your bed sound asleep. you weren’t that drunk where you didn’t remember wanting to watch game of thrones together but you weren’t sure why he stayed on your bed through the rest of the night.
you poked him, the action immediately waking him up. he breathes heavily, eyes fluttering open. he turns his head to face you. “good morning.”
“…morning.” you mumble, all the slight confidence you gained last night completely gone. though you did feel a certain comfortability now around him.
“sleep okay?” he husks out, lifting himself from the bed.
you nod, nervously twisting the sheets.
he checks the time. it was still early and you wouldn’t be meeting with your client until the afternoon. “do you want breakfast?”
“sure.”
“anything in particular?” he grabs his keys from the nightstand, swinging them around his pointer finger.
“your choice.” you shrug.
he hums. “go shower. get dressed. i’ll be back.”
you do as he says, showering, getting dressed, then eat breakfast with him once he gets back.
the day follows on as planned, you meet with the client, discuss the case, write down details, aim to search for more evidence and layout options.
for the next few weeks, you spent long hours traveling with higuruma to collect more evidence in support of your case. for a time you were able to juggle all the work but the stress of your bar exam coming up was starting to take a toll.
you wanted more time to study but you also had to sacrifice a lot of time to help higuruma. so you start to force yourself to stay up most nights, hardly getting any sleep, caffeine intake drastically rising.
it not only began to present itself through your physical presence but with the way you interacted with higuruma. at first he could understand having been in your position of working between school, studying, and work but as the weeks passed he noticed your decline was starting to affect your work performance.
he’d allow for a few things to slide but not at the risk of a client's future behind bars. so when he asks you a question and you remain too zoned out to answer, he’ll sigh.
“y/n.”
“hm?” you’ll hum, pen twisting between your teeth, completely focused on the textbook laid out.
“look at me.” he commands, tone still gentle as he waits for your eyes to meet his. higuruma was completely aware of your inability to do so but he couldn’t care at the moment. so when you only lift them for a second as if to show you were listening then drop them back to your computer screen he shakes his head with a sigh.
you don’t even notice him stand then come around to palm your chair until he shuts your laptop closed and snatches the pen from your hand. he ignores your surprised reaction. “is this becoming too much for you?”
you frown, opening your mouth to say something but you can’t follow through. instead you shake your head.
he spins you in your seat, forcing you to face him. “can you look at me when i’m speaking to you, please?”
“higuruma, i’m sorry—” you start with a small pout, not listening to what he asked.
“you don’t need to apologize. just look at me.”
it’s silent for a few seconds and you finally flicker your eyes up to look at him. a hand rests on the chair, the other on your desk completely caging you in. you can smell the strong but warm scent of his cologne that radiates off his skin and clothes.
“is this too much for you?” he asks again. “i can give you a break.”
“n-no.” you deny his inquisition. “the work is fine. it’s just… the studying. i’ve got my exam coming up really soon, i’m sorry.”
“it’s fine.” he assures, “look, on the weekends and on our breaks, i’ll help you study. it’s not nice seeing you like this, okay?”
you nod and he stands at his full height, comfortably squeezing your shoulder then patting your head. “take a nap. you look like you need it.”
there was about one more month left until you’d have to take the exam and higuruma keeps through on his promise and dedicates any moment of extra time he has to help you study.
his methods actually allowed you to gain more sleep, balance work more appropriately, and retain the information easier. you genuinely felt like you were learning. you even complimented higuruma on his skills of teaching, claiming that he’d make a great professor.
this continues throughout the month until it was time for the actual day. he helped you study in the morning for a bit, not too much as he didn’t want to override your brain. he got you breakfast and decided to drop you off at the testing site.
“i’ll be right here, okay?”
you nod, looking at him with a solemn smile. you hesitate at first but overwhelmed by your emotions you reach over the console to give him a hug. “thank you…”
he lets out a breath that sounds close to a laugh, hands coming around to circle your body. his palm rubs up and down your back in a comforting motion. “you’ve got this.” he whispers. “good luck.”
you head into the building, gone for a total of three and a half hours. he fell asleep in the car for about an hour until he hears three rampant knocks to the passenger window.
he sees your figure standing there with other individuals following out the building. immediately, he unlocks the door, watching you hop into the car without a word.
“how do you think you did?” he sighs, turning the ignition of the car.
you can only shrug, anxiety riddled through your body. passing was the only option for you. you opted out in taking it the first month the exam is taken so you’d have more time to study. this was your last chance or else you wouldn’t be able to advance in your studies.
higuruma takes in your worrisome expression, reaching his hand out to gently squeeze your shoulder. “should we go out for some drinks?”
you let out a small laugh, looking at him and nodding.
the two of you settle for some small bar, doing the same as before. indulging in every kind of drink but still keeping limitations. eventually, higuruma suggested to watching game of thrones and you in your slightly drunk state of mind couldn’t deny.
you end up at his home because you were too scared of what your roommate might say if you brought higuruma home. you step into the threshold, eyes wide as you stare around in awe.
“why is it so empty?” you giggle, noticing the lack of… anything.
it was as if he simply bought the house and disregarded buying any furniture, dishes, and utensils. does he even live here? was your initial thought as you scavenged through his pantry, cabinets, and refrigerator only to find nothing that could saturate your hunger.
“i spend most of my time at the office.” he huffs, tugging off his suit jacket and tossing it on his sofa. “i mainly come back here to shower and change clothes.”
you hum, clutching your purse as you continue to look around, dragging your fingers along surfaces.
that’s sort of become your lifestyle too now. you’ve no doubt seen higuruma more than your own roommate— which supported why you definitely couldn’t bring him over without warning.
he steps towards you, pointing to your purse and jacket. “would you like to shower?”
“that’d be nice…” you nod, handing him your belongings to toss with his jacket.
he grabs an extra towel he luckily had and his pajamas for you to wear since you didn’t have any clothes of your own. “i plan to order some food, do you want anything in particular?”
“dealer’s choice.” you smile at him. he nods, leaving you to shower as he picks on what to eat. you shower for about half an hour as you spent half of that time snooping around his restroom for any indication of a woman being here.
it was surely none of your business but you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by higuruma. naturally, amongst the things you wondered about was if he shared a life with someone. though it should’ve been obvious with the way he never spends his time at home and the simple fact of you being here.
you dried yourself off, putting on his clothes and unsure of where to put the used towel, you walk into his bedroom searching for a hamper. though you find yourself eager to just look around. there wasn’t much to find except for the basics.
you open his closet and find a wide range of suits all in black and white along with his pajamas that were the same color. he also had a distinct collection of watches and cologne.
you end up spraying the different fragrances into the air, adoring the mixture of them being woody, earthy, and citrusy. you take one, spraying it onto yourself.
“having fun?”
you turn fast on your feet, startled by his voice. he sports a teasing smile and you can’t help but feel your body grow hot in embarrassment. “um… sorry…” you laugh nervously, placing the cap back on to the cologne and settling it back in its original spot.
he shakes his head, fond of how you looked, “it’s alright. i ordered chinese.” he then hands you the remote to the tv and his phone for you to track the food. “log in to hbo. i’ll go take a quick shower.”
you nod, heading back out and taking a seat on his sofa. you log into hbo and as you waited, you ended up using his phone to scroll through tiktok. you definitely could’ve used your own but it felt more fun to use his considering the fact he didn’t even have the app in the first place.
the food arrived and within ten minutes after higuruma was done with his shower, fully dressed. he was wearing the same thing as you with the exception of his clothes looking larger on your frame.
he takes a seat beside you, spreading out the arrangement of food he bought on the mini table he had. you press play on the show and hour after hour you felt happier, completely forgetting that you even had an exam today. forgetting that you spent months worrying about this very day all thanks to higuruma.
you always grew a certain amount of courage after drinking so it went without a thought for you to sigh after feeling full then lean sideways to rest your head on his shoulder.
“thank you for today.” you mumble, eyes glued to the screen.
higuruma’s sprawled back, legs spread until you lean against him.
he doesn’t want to think too hard about the current proximity, simply enjoying the moment as he throws an arm around you so you’d feel more comfortable snuggling up to him.
“you deserved it.” he squeezes you gently and you don’t say anything in response, just cozying up to him some more.
from that day, you and higuruma grew closer than ever and you began to notice that you often thought about him, smiled at him more, opened up, and gained the courage to look at him longer.
with every compliment, touch, and night that you spent at his house watching game of thrones whilst eating food, there was no denying that you shared particular feelings for him.
and as the weeks past, you began to wonder what you should do with these feelings until the time came where the scores for the bar exam were out. the two of you were sat in the office per usual, and you received an email notification describing that the scores for the exam were out and where to check them.
you swallowed thickly, logging in to your admissions portal.
“did you ever get a copy of the prosecution's discovery?” higuruma asks, mindlessly flipping through a file.
his question is followed by silence and he’ll lift his head. “y/n?”
upon the continuous silence, higuruma rolls on his chair, peeking his head over to your cubicle to see you hiding your face and your shoulders shaking. concerned at the sight, he stands, and approaches you to palm your shoulder and that’s when he begins to understand that you’re crying when a fragile sob falls past your lips.
his heart burns at the broken sound. “what’s wrong?” his eyes lift to your monitor and see the familiar page of the exam results. he scrolls through the letter to see you’ve passed.
a laugh of relief spills from his throat, glad that your reaction isn’t due to any devastating news. his hand circles around your wrist and tugs at it. “come here.”
you slowly stand, allowing your emotions to flow upon feeling his arms encircle you tightly. you’ll cry into his chest, managing to thank him through your tears. he’ll shush you, rubbing at your back and cradling the back of your head.
“you did such a good job.” he murmurs into your hair.
he continues to mumble praises into your hair and ear, holding and consoling you until your crying has calmed down. once he hears you letting out small breaths to control your breathing, he pulls back, wiping at your tear stained cheeks. “i’m so proud of you.”
your body grows hot at the compliment paired with his stare as he gently cups your cheek, thumb swiping across the skin.
you let out a shaky breath, not sure if it was from your crying or that feeling pooling between your legs. your eyes drop down to his lips then back up to his eyes. higuruma does the same and you can’t help but curl your fingers around his dress shirt.
both of your breathing picks up and neither of you are sure of what to do in this moment. you can feel his free hand drop from your back then down to your waist as you each exchange flickering looks between your lips and eyes.
“higuruma…” you breathe out and he shakes his head, closing his eyes then pressing his forehead to yours.
“hiromi.” he corrects, switching his hand that cups your cheeks to palm the back of your neck. “my name… say it. that’s all i need.”
you fight the whine that bubbles in your throat, gripping tightly onto him as you open your mouth. “hiromi…”
he gives in at the immediate desperation his name holds, roughly pressing you against him so your lips could meet.
the two of you have your hands moving everywhere along your bodies and a gasp rushes from your lungs as he frantically lifts you onto the desk.
items clatter everywhere as he knocks them away whilst dipping his tongue into your mouth. it’s frantic and eager the way your mouths clash together. soft groans and moans spilling into the air as papers crumble beneath your figure.
you kick off your heels as hiromi hikes your skirt around your hips, pressing your back against the surface and knocking your legs open with his knees, revealing the lace panties hidden underneath them.
he presses himself against you with a rough groan, one hand hoisting your leg at his waist, whilst the other taps your cheek then grips your face to press into them. “open.”
your jaw widens, and hiromi hums before spitting in your mouth then leaning in to connect your lips again.
he’s hard and big.
it’s all you can think of as your tongues mesh together in perfect harmony.
weeks of built up feelings that you both tried so hard to fight all falling at the seams. you reach up to tug at his black roots as he unconsciously ruts himself against your clothed core.
you take advantage when he finally pulls away, a string of saliva following with him. his lips are swollen and covered in spit as he leans down to kiss along your jaw, then suck at the skin of your neck. you pant feverishly against his ear, gripping tighter onto him each time his bulge connects with your clit just right.
deep shaky breaths fly through his nose as rolls his hips, eyes squeezing tightly from the tightness building in his pants. it felt so fucking good to hear those soft whimpers and moans escape your lips. “feels so good.” he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. you two practically rubbing against each other like bunnies in heat without even starting the main course.
you whimper feeling yourself clench around nothing. your hands grasp for higuruma and he hums, kissing just below your ear. “gonna cum?”
you nod, mouth slacked open as he breathes harshly against your neck. “that’s okay, sweetheart.” he huffs, using his free hand to travel down between your bodies. fuck, he thinks the moment his fingers feel how drenched your panties are. your eyes blow wide as he pinches your clothed clit then rubs in tight circles. “you can cum, it’s okay.”
“oh my god.” you tremble and writhe against his lengthy figure, clawing at his back and arms as you feel lost on what to hold on with your orgasm building every second.
he stops the movement of his hips, grasping your neck so you’d be staring straight at him as he picks up the pace of his fingers. “come on.” he licks his lips, maintaining the eye contact he forces you to hold. “i wanna see you. you’re almost there.”
“hiromi—” you choke on the air, threatening to close your eyes but he shakes your head, warning you to keep them open as your body trembles from the euphoria that overcomes you.
“good job.” he wipes at your forehead and cheeks, standing to his full height. you use his tie to lift yourself up, meeting your lips again and immediately sloshing your tongue with his. while he fumbles to unbutton your shirt you do the same then aggressively toss off his tie. his large hands grope at your breast before unclipping your bra to flick and twist at your nipple. you moan into his mouth, fingertips caressing the light muscles of his abs.
he finds it quite amusing how you flinch with each twist and tug but nonetheless you let him continue his worship of your body. he leaves your skirt cinched around your waist, squeezing your hips then slowly tugs your panties down your legs.
you can’t imagine what he plans to do next until he drops both his hands behind your thighs, pressing them down as far as he can before bending down to dip his head between your legs.
his tongue flattens against your leaking hole, sucking up all slick your pussy produced. you reach straight for his hair, choking on a moan. “w-wait, i can’t.” you tell him, quivering at the sudden sensation. it certainly didn’t help with how big his nose is, he had the advantage to nudge it against your clit each lick and suck.
“i just want to taste you.” his voice vibrates against you, eliciting a strangled moan out of you. “is that okay, love?” he pulls back momentarily, mouth and nose coated in your juices as he presses a kiss to either side of your thighs.
what gets you is the fact he genuinely waits on your response. you nod feebly and he presses a kiss to your clit. “thank you.” is all he says before continuing his actions. your eyes immediately squeeze shut and you’re not sure if you’re trying to push his head or pull him closer. regardless, your back arches off the desk, pulling at his hair as he holds you down to prevent any more of your squirming.
a sound of absolute satisfaction rumbles in his chest and higuruma loses himself in your taste. he’s quite filthy really. you would’ve never expected him to be the type of man that relentlessly switches between licking, spitting, and sucking the way he does. a small pool of liquid has likely formed under you by now.
“r-romi, m’ gonna cum.” he hears, feeling the way you buck up against his mouth and quite literally has to force himself off you at the announcement. he seethes in a breath, huffing and puffing, licking around his mouth.
higuruma stands straight again, unbuckling his belt, letting out a soft breath as he no longer feels constricted. your eyes fall when he drops his pants and briefs. shit. i mean, you figured he was big but not that fucking big.
you yelp as he pulls you to the edge of the table, slapping his thick cock against your drooling hole that pulses around nothing.
“can i?” he collects your mess between his fingers, spreading your folds and gliding his shaft between them.
you nod but higuruma shakes his head then grips your neck to pull you up. “tell me, sweetheart. can i?”
“p-please.” you look up at him, all doe eyed and desperate. his hand squeezes your neck and keeps you looking at him as he uses his other hand to pull you closer, prodding in just the tip then slowly pushes himself into your warm, gushing cunt. your mouth slacks open at the stretch, gasping for air as higuruma squeezes tighter from the way you sporadically clench around his length.
he’s only halfway in and it’s taking all his energy to not cum. your pussy is torturously sucking him in, so much so a quivering grunt echoes from his chest. he pats your thigh in response. “ease up, it’s just me, darling.” he tells you, and you want to laugh at how serious he’s being. ease up? not fucking possible when at least eight inches length and formidable girth was pushing itself into you.
once he’s finally filled to the hilt. your legs cross around his hips, grasping his wrist, preventing him from squeezing too tight on your throat. “you’re always such a good girl… so smart and beautiful.” he praises, leaning in to peck your lips then follows with butterflies kisses along your jaw and neck then comes back up to meet your lips again. your mouths twist slower, fiery and brimmed with passion to distract you from the roll of his hips.
“so warm.” he moans against your lips, biting down and sucking on your bottom one. he finally lets go of your neck, pushing you on your back again then clasping both thighs as leverage to pummel himself deep into your pussy. he groans along to your whimpers and moans, dark eyes focused on the imprint that shows itself on your stomach with every thrust.
his light abs glisten with sweat, his brows furrowed as he zones into the way he disappears in and out of your pussy that sucks him in and coats his base white.
papers crumble beneath your fist as your moans are pulled closer together, the indication that your orgasm was fast approaching. the effect likely to be huge since you already had your first and was denied your second. hiromi grunts, fixing you into a mean semi-mating press, legs over his shoulders as his balls mercilessly slap against your skin to echo around the office space.
“gonna cum.” you quiver but higuruma smacks your clit as if that’s supposed to help.
“hold it.”
“i-i can’t.” you look at him, pouting.
his eyes snap up to meet yours and he smacks you again. “hold it.”
he somehow moves faster and harder, harshly breathing with sweat beading down his temple. after a minute, you’re completely spent, eyes watering as you shake your head. “romi, please. i can’t hold it.”
“shhh.” he huffs, pressing his palm over your mouth, viciously chasing the high of his orgasm. he rolls his eyes shut, sticking two fingers into your mouth. “go. hurry up and cum.”
it’s only a few seconds after his command that your waves come crashing down, body yearning to close upon itself due to the overstimulation but higuruma keeps you spread open, still thrusting for what feels like over a minute.
he pulls out, a hand immediately coming to pump at his length, the other angling your body just right so when he forces your mouth open, hot spurts of his cum land on your breasts, chin, and tongue.
hiromi takes a breath that sounds like he’s inhaling fresh air, squeezing at his tip to extract every ounce of his fill. he takes a good and long look at your weak body, collecting his remains that landed on you to push back into your mouth.
“so beautiful…” he cups your cheek, holding you upright since you clearly can’t. “you alright? did i hurt you?”
“no… i’m okay.” you mumble, staring up at him as if he held up the moon and stars. “was i?… okay?”
“absolutely, love.” his brows furrow, gently caressing your skin as he looks at you. “more than okay. perfect.”
you smile shyly at that and he has a similar question on his mind as he helps in cleaning you up. “are we okay?”
“am i okay for you?”
hiromi has begun to understand your naturally shy and timid nature but it also crossed his mind that your sense of overthinking would come into play with your age gap.
it wasn’t drastic of course but he would never want to put you in a position that made you seemingly uncomfortable.
you nod with a small smile, gripping his bicep and pulling him in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “more than okay… perfect.”
PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ
𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟕 — 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢
⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: nov 30th, 10:37pm
⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: garters + assistant manager! reader + pleasure dom! higuruma+ cunnalingus + fingering + office sex + overworked!higuruma + creampie + shower sex + squirting + use of squirt as coffee creamer + public sex + standing sex + fluff + higuruma courts you like an old man jdfbhsdb + higuruma folds you like a pancake + reader is a bit delulu and spirals lol.
⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 6390 (~4.5K of it is pure smut lol)
𝐚𝐧: sorry this took so long! i ended up changing the theme a bit on this one cause using the same got so boring to me after a while, ya know? i dont think ill do that again for a series if its not the same story. art creds: both @/reaperpie
𝐧𝐧𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
If this goes on any longer, you're going to have to apply for flood insurance.
For your panties.
And for what? Simply standing beside Higuruma?
Yup, that'll do it.
Mere proximity to the man who once had you bent over the very desk he's chained to now.
You busy yourself at the file cabinet, fighting to keep your breathing even. But it doesn't stop your eyes from drifting to him—his pen moving and brow furrowed while fully consumed in drafting a judgment entry.
He won. Well, the case got dismissed.
Same difference.
You're just relieved it's finally over.
It's been over a month since this case consumed him and consequently also over a month since you last had his fingers buried inside you.
Shit.
You can still feel the phantom strokes of them curling deep enough to rearrange your guts and dragging out moans you didn't know could be made in pleasure. "There. Right there, babydoll. Let it all go for me."
And you did—skirt bunched, stockings torn and your slick dripping down his hand onto cuffs he hadn't bothered to roll back—
"Grab me the folder with the October 3rd case files, please, dear."
Higuruma's request snaps you out of your daydreams—body jerking as heat burns your cheeks.
"O-Of course!"
You know exactly where to go, at least. Every misplaced document, every obscure reference—you've long since mapped the chaos of Higuruma Hiromi's filing system.
Locating the folder within seconds, the brief contact of his fingers grazing yours as you hand it over makes you clench.
"Thank you, doll."
Higuruma doesn't look up, his eyes are already scanning the document. Clearly your touch doesn't stir anything in him.
Right.
You get it. You do.
It's not cruelty—just a single-minded determination from a habitually overworked and underfucked attorney moonlighting as a sorcerer.
Higuruma is well practiced in putting his own needs to the side for others, his entire life has been dedicated to it—you can't bear to fault him for that.
So you retreat. Back to the sofa in the corner of his office, the sting tucked behind a tired smile. Higuruma isn't the only one who knows how to compartmentalize.
Still, the thought lingers—is there even a point in staying?
He doesn't need you. Not really.
Higuruma managed for years as a public defender before the Culling Games. He's more than capable of grabbing his own files.
Besides, it's not like the jujutsu higher-ups assigned you here for your legal expertise. The "Executive Legal Assistant" line is just civilian window dressing— a polite way of saying leash.
Your real title? Assistant Manager of Jujutsu Tech.
A handler for a newly ranked special-grade sorcerer too stubborn to give up his day job entirely.
Higuruma compromised just enough to move to private practice, but still takes most cases pro bono after a reduced retainer.
He knows exactly why you're here—and he's never once made you feel lesser for it.
Which makes the guilt so much worse. He's buried in this case: a scholarship kid bullied into a false confession, parents who scraped together everything for his retainer.
Meanwhile, you're sulking because he won't touch you.
God, his noble to a fault principles make you damn near feral though.
Pouting from your spot on the sofa, you steal another glance at Higuruma.
You decided long ago it's enormously unfair for a man to wear exhaustion as well as he does. The warm glow of the desk lamp traces his profile—his sharp nose, strong jaw, the thick column of his throat and the strain visibly knotted across his broad shoulders.
The same coiled tension he'd carried that night a month ago that obliterated all lines of professionalism.
It’d been straight off a mission. Higuruma dealt with dual first-grade curses, nasty work—and then went right back to his desk. But he was wound too tight and although determined to finish his work, could not keep his fingers from digging into the crook of his neck.
When you offered to help him, you were only being considerate.
A friendly massage. Honestly, that's all it was.
Higuruma even tried to refuse you but one firm press into his stiff muscles and he groaned. The sound was purely guttural, vibrating through your palms and straight to your cunt.
Immediately all protests silenced as his head drooped forward, breath going ragged. His grunts continued and by the time you fully worked out the second knot, you were dripping.
It took everything in you to steady your hands, to hide how much his pleasure was affecting you. But then you slipped—and a soft, needy sound fumbled out of you, impossible to swallow back. Your breath fanned warm across his neck, scattering goosebumps along his nape.
Everything after that blurred together.
His hands hauling you into his lap.
His mouth devouring yours.
The expensive oak desk slamming against the wall as he drove into you like a man possessed, your name caught between his teeth like a prayer.
You don't remember how it ended—only that eventually, Higuruma untangled himself from you and led you wordlessly to the private shower attached to his office.
One of the few perks of private practice he'd actually come to appreciate.
He washed you with reverence—slow, thorough, like you were something precious. And then he ruined that image entirely by dropping to his knees and lewdly slurping his cum out of your cunt like it was his last meal. Nose buried in your clit, tongue pushing deep, water pouring down his face. He was half-drowning—between the shower and your squirt—and couldn't have cared less.
Legs like goo, you still don't know how you remained standing through it all.
You were still catching your breath as you toweled off when he murmured something about feeding you, fingers tracing your hip.
Twenty minutes later: you were at an all-night izakaya, just the two of you.
Your first date, technically. Confirmed by the way he slid into the booth beside you instead of across—his hand finding your thigh like it belonged there. It never left. Only crept higher, fingertips ghosting over your clit through thin silk while you pretended to study the menu.
The owner lingered too long taking your order, teasing you for something as plain as eggs and furikake rice, his tone edging toward flirtation as he challenged if your date was too cheap to buy you a real meal. You stumbled over your defense of Higuruma as Higuruma's knuckle replaced his fingertips, grinding against your clit.
That's when you learned how possessive Higuruma Hiromi could be.
"That man is testing my patience," Higuruma murmured the second the owner turned away. His mouth barely moved against your ear, voice terrifyingly calm, knuckle still working slow circles through your folds. "Should I sit you right here in my lap? Let him watch you come undone, doll, hm?"
You were already plenty undone though—your slick leaking onto beat-up vinyl seat. “Don’t worry, I won’t. This noisy girl attracts too much unnecessary attention—” Higuruma leans forward to shield you from view as more patrons walk in “—we don’t need a public indecency charge, hm?”
He wasn't wrong. The slick click-click of your pussy squelches were already obscene—a few patrons' eyes flickered around, searching for the source—and it only got louder as he nudged past the lace, stroking you wider, fingertip dipping teasingly into your core.
“H-Hiro…”
With a sly quirk of his lip, he pulls back, reaching casually for his coffee before slipping the mug under the table.
“Alright, alright. At least allow me some of your cream for my coffee as a consolation, dear.”
He paid, of course. You tried to protest, but it's hard to argue when you can barely stand—legs still trembling from an hour of relentless teasing.
He'd ordered three cups of coffee total. Every single one required a fresh dollop of your cream.
By the time you reached his condo, you needed him desperately again. Engine off, keys still in the ignition—you climbed into the backseat and sank onto his cock. You rode him until dawn crept through the fogged glass and your legs gave out.
He invited you to stay but you were possibly in enough trouble already if your family noticed you hadn’t returned. Working late was understandable—but there’d be hell if you missed breakfast without prior notice.
That was a Saturday.
Come Monday, this case landed on his desk, and he hadn't touched you since.
Instead?
Fresh flowers rotating through the vase on your desk.
The occasional delivery of white strawberries.
Macarons from the French bakery Higuruma pretended to overbuy when you knew he only bought them for you.
The closest to real intimacy you got all month were stolen moments where he’d sweep your hand into his, lips brushing your knuckles when he was certain no one else could see.
Sure these breadcrumbs were enough to keep you hoping but not nearly enough to keep you sane.
Who the hell courts you like a Regency novel heroine—after you’ve already spent a night all over each other fucking like rabbits?!
You don't think even Elizabeth Bennet suffered this kind of agonizing tension—she certainly didn't have the memory of Mr. Darcy's tongue swirling in her cunt to keep her up at night.
But what could you do? You couldn't seem needy or immature—not to a man a decade your senior. Not if you wanted this to mean something.
You were doing fine. Keeping it together. Right up until last week.
Junior lawyers crowded the watercooler, loud and willfully oblivious to the fact that women also use the break room—braying about No Nut November like overgrown frat boys comparing notes. You kept your back to them, cursing the espresso machine to hurry the hell up.
Relief flooded you when Higuruma appeared in the doorway.
Finally, an escape.
Then he opened his mouth.
"Some of us don't find distractions quite so difficult to set aside when the work matters." His gaze swept over them. "I'd recommend you develop the same discipline, gentlemen."
Distractions.
You'd previously told yourself this case had forced you both into accidental celibacy. No Nut November participants by circumstance, not choice. But the way he'd said it—distractions—so cool, so clinical, like sexual urges were just clutter to tidy away.
You'd think a man who fucked you that desperately would be crawling back for more?!
But he hadn't.
And that distance made you wonder if you'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe the gifts weren't courtship—just consideration. The polite gestures of a man who'd used you and wanted to keep things friendly on the rare occasion he needed an indulgence.
Like a work wife with benefits.
The fact the office cleared out hours ago and he’s hardly looked at you for more than a few seconds convinces you of this more and more, the thoughts spiraling as—
"You know I hate to keep you late." The words yank you out of your head. Right. You're still here. He's still here. "If you need to leave, dove, I can manage."
Your stomach drops. Higuruma asked you to stay tonight, so you thought maybe—
"No, I'm fine. Really." Unconvincing, even to yourself.
"Mm." He nods—eyes already back on his files.
Dismissed in a syllable.
Trying to push aside the hurt, the files in your lap blur as you pretend to read them, legs crossing and uncrossing, the leather groaning beneath your restless shifting. Now on top of everything else, your feet are screaming—new stilettos, three inches higher than normal.
You'd dressed to kill all month hoping a part of him would be superficial enough notice.
Wincing, your arches are aching from your red-bottoms. You're starting to suspect it's less about the lacquer and more about the crime scene your heels will leave behind if your arches just so happen to split in two. Still, they make your legs look sinful—and you'll plead guilty to first-degree pick me-ism if it gets Higuruma to look up from his goddamn papers for more than a minute.
"Take them off.”
Flustered, your eyes snap up to see Higuruma appraising you over the document in his hands.
When did he start watching you again?
"Your shoes, dove."
Higuruma follows up when you don’t respond, faint amusement lingering on his words.
"It's fine, really—" You wave off his concern, gesturing vaguely at your feet. "They're still new. Haven't broken them in quite yet."
"You've been wincing for the last twenty minutes." Higuruma’s voice is firm but not unkind as he regards you. His eyes linger on your legs long enough for you to notice this time.
"Take them off."
"I don't want to be unprofessional—"
"It's nearly midnight." The corner of his mouth twitches a sly smile. "And…I think we're well past professional civilities, don't you?"
Are we?
You swallow the retort as Higuruma examines another folder on his desk. Part of you wants to be a big brat about it—to punish him for ignoring you. You want to crawl onto his desk force his eyes onto you.
But the thought alone makes you shy away. You're much too proud for that.
So you ease the shoe off slowly, quietly, propping your stockinged foot on the sofa's edge to reach the second strap. Your wool skirt rides up your thighs in the process—but you're almost certain he's not watching anyway.
Except you hear papers fluttering and when you glance up, Higuruma's pen is frozen mid-stroke.
His gaze isn't on your feet.
It's fixed on your thighs, more specifically, the black lace of your garters clipped to stockings that have your soft flesh swelling over them.
His throat bobs as he white-knuckles the pen in his grasp.
For a long moment, he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Just looks at you as his eyes trail lower and the proof of how needy you've been for him all night is evident in the way your panties clinging to every fold.
Higuruma resembles a man who's been presented a ten-course meal after a strict fast.
Yet his next words still surprise you.
"You've been punishing yourself."
"What?"
"For my attention. You've been wearing new heels, every night this week." Higuruma’s tone is stripped of its usual composure although he's still clinical in his assessment. "You usually wear the round-toed black pair. Two inches, cushioned sole. These—" His gaze flicks to the discarded shoes, then back to you. "Your legs don't need the extra height, doll. Never did."
Heat floods your cheeks. He'd noticed?!
This whole time, drowning in case files, barely sparing you a glance—
"The blouse is new too." Higuruma notes, almost to himself, like he’s reading off the facts in a case file. "Tuesday it was the silk one. Wednesday, the black skirt with the small slit at the back."
Your heart slams against your ribs as he continues to recall your outfits.
"I-I thought you weren't paying attention."
"I wasn't giving you any." Higuruma’s mouth twists—bitter and self-directed in his ire. "That's not the same thing."
"It's okay. You've been busy—"
"Don't."
The word is soft but final as he rises from his desk walking over to you on the sofa.
"Don't make excuses for me—or I'll hate myself even more than I already do..."
Higuruma drags a hand down his face as he deflates with a tired exhale. "Watching you walk in every morning looking like that. Knowing exactly what sounds you make when I—"
He stops. You watch him swallow it down—whatever he was about to say, whatever he was about to do. His eyes have gone nearly black, looking like he may pounce on you at any moment.
"I couldn't only give you ten minutes between depositions. Couldn't touch you the way you deserve and then casually ask you to hand me a file or drive me to the next mission like nothing happened."
Your head is spinning at the revelations, wanting to say something but you are at an utter loss.
"So I kept my distance." He confesses. "Thought if I could just finish this case—I could give you a night where I could take my time with you. Take you apart properly, then put you back together after."
Higuruma is standing over you now, his presence like a physical weight. "Like a fool, I was so consumed with self-martyrdom I never stopped to consider if I was forcing yours."
You move to stand, to reach for him—
“Stay.”
It's less command than it is a contrite supplication.
"Stay right there, doll," Higuruma repeats—and the crack in his voice betrays him—as does the tent in his slacks.
The sound he makes when he catches you staring is barely human—a low, rumbling growl. You watch his cock twitch harder against his slacks.
You search for his eyes, but his focus is locked on your tongue sweeping across your lips.
Higuruma loosens his tie, slowly as his eyes begin their descent—down your throat, your breasts, your stomach—until it lands between your thighs and stays there. Fixed on the wet patch darkening your lace.
He crouches before you, hands finding your calf. His thumb strokes the curve of the stocking covered muscle with reverence, he's memorizing the shape of you not only by sight but touch as well.
"Bring the other up." You've never heard him sound like this—barely holding on. "Y-Yes, just like that. Now lay back—hips forward."
Pulse hammering, you sink deeper into the cushions, propping your leg up as his hands find your hips, guiding them forward, bunching your skirt around your waist.
"Good girl."
Your pussy is fully on display now and Higuruma makes a wounded noise as his eyes rake over the panties that have given up pretending to hold in your swollen folds long ago.
"Christ."
The word punches out of him. His fingers skim the lace edge—barely grazing—and still come back glistening with your slick.
Higuruma swallows hard. "It's criminal the way my girl's been hiding all this under those prim little suits."
His girl.
Higuruma lifts one of your legs, extending it slowly until your stockinged foot rests flat against his chest. His heart pounds beneath your arch, the beat syncing with the pulsating ache of your clit.
His hands work down your leg, firm and thorough, pressing into sore muscles until pleasure bleeds through the ache. Your head tilts back as you stifle a moan and his grip tightens in response.
"I know I don't deserve it, dove, but at least allow me to hear you while I worship you, my dear."
Simultaneously, his thumbs dig into the ball of your foot, and the tension you've been carrying all night unspools in a single, embarrassingly loud whimper.
From the devious look on his face, it's exactly what he wanted.
Higuruma presses a kiss to your Achilles—another apology—and you shiver. He sets your foot down gently, repeats the ritual on the other side. Just as slow. Just as thorough.
A knowing smirk tugs at his lips as he guides your legs up, stockinged feet sliding over his shoulders until you're spread open before him. He leans forward, nuzzling into the fold of your knee—and the scrape of his stubble makes your hips jerk.
“You know, at times I swore I could smell how badly she missed me.” He murmurs into your stockings. “Right through your pretty little skirts."
Higuruma’s actions follow his words, tracing a slow path with his aquiline nose from your knee to your pussy. "Mmm. I was right. She's been weeping so sweetly through your panties like a needy little thing for weeks, hasn't she?"
Your whines answer for you.
"What about No Nut November?" you whisper, breathless, raising your hips to push his nose in deeper. "I wouldn't want to be a distraction..."
Higuruma inhales deeply, savoring your raw scent. "Never." He exhales breathlessly.
"Everything else has been a distraction from you." His voice drops to gravel, vibrating through you.
You haven’t even savored the admission properly before there's a sharp snap and his teeth bite through one of your garters, tugging the ruined elastic away with a growl before repeating the action.
"Please, Hiro—" You mewl, thighs trembling.
He looks up at you with those dark, knowing eyes. Exhausted and hungry in equal measure.
"This is part of my sentence, doll." His thumb strokes the crease of your thigh, maddeningly gentle. "Trust me—it's far more agonizing for me."
You doubt that.
But you don't dare contradict him—not when there's something sadistic lurking behind all that apology. Something that tells you a part of him would get off on deny you just a tiny bit longer.
His tongue drags flat over your panties, pressing wet fabric into your slit, sucking your slick through the lace like he's trying to wring every drop out.
"These are in my way." He doesn't bother with his teeth this time—just hooks his fingers in the lace and tears.
Riiiip.
You squeal as cool air hits your bare cunt for half a second before his mouth replaces it. The second his tongue splits your folds, every other thought dissolves.
Your head falls back against the cushions as his tongue drags through your folds with long, broad strokes. Like he's been dreaming about this exact taste for a month and finally, finally gets to indulge.
His lips seal over your clit and suck, hard enough that your hips buck off the sofa. His hands dig into the meat of your thighs, pinning you open, holding you still as they quake in his grasp.
"Told you to stay."
The command growled against your cunt, but your body isn’t listening, still squirming as he dips into your entrance, gathering your slick before dragging it back up to your clit—then he spits, letting your own arousal drip onto your swollen nub before his mouth descends again.
"H-Hiro!"
Higuruma doesn't answer.
He's much too occupied with his repentance. Tongue extended, his face is pulled back just enough so you can see the exact pattern being cruelly branded on your sensitive bud as he roughly flicks under your clitoral hood, pushing it back. It's methodical and devastatingly thorough—like he's building a case with his mouth and your orgasm is the verdict.
Though for a defense attorney, the way he's attacking your cunt feels suspiciously prosecutorial.
Your hips tilt up, desperate to ride his face, and he lets you—lips releasing your clit only to plunge his tongue straight into your core, rimming your entrance before fucking into you rapidly. Every thrust grinds his nose further into your clit. His hands find your ass, gripping soft flesh, spreading your cheeks as he lifts your hips to help you rock against his mouth.
This man would happily perish between your thighs.
You're certain of it now.
His own broken groans echo inside your cunt, high off the fact of simply giving you pleasure—and that's what sends you over. You cum hard, thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the sofa as the orgasm tears through you in waves, ecstasy coursing in your veins.
But he doesn't stop.
His tongue keeps working, lapping up your release, his face slick and shining with you. When you try to squirm away—oversensitive and trembling—his grip tightens on your thighs, dragging you back to his mouth.
"I'm not done with you yet, doll."
The words come out ragged, muffled against your puffy cunny as Higuruma's cheek rests against your inner thigh, lips swollen and spit-slick, still connected to your pussy by a thin string of your arousal. He's panting—actually panting—looking genuinely pained by the fact that he has to stop to breathe oxygen instead of burying himself deeper in your folds.
You don't think you could deny Higuruma anything like this.
"One more, Hiro." His breathing quickens at your permission. "T-Then fuck me. Please."
Higuruma doesn't bother with words. Just action—diving back into your depths like a man possessed.
One of his hands releases your thigh, finds your wrist and drags your fingers into his hair.
"Pull." The command is muffled but unmistakable.
You oblige—or rather, you're forced to when his teeth graze your clit and your nails dig into his scalp on instinct. Higuruma growls in pleasure, the sound rumbling through your core.
He has to be aching. Hard enough to hurt, trapped in those slacks. You can't see him from this angle, but you wouldn't be surprised if he's leaking through his slacks from the way he's moaning into your pussy, drunk on the taste of you. A pool of your creamy juices has already gathered on the leather beneath you, obscene and growing in size by the second.
Delirious words spill from his lips between licks—praise and filth whispered directly into your cunt like prayers.
"So sweet—"
A broad lick from entrance to clit.
"So pretty—"
His tongue fucks into you, curling.
"—my divine atonement—"
Your slick coats his chin, his cheeks, drips down his jaw, and he only gets hungrier. More desperate. More crazed. Every gush of arousal you give him is an aphrodisiac—he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, shows no signs of stopping, no signs this will be your last orgasm, only growing more feral as you unravel beneath him.
"P-Pleaseeeee ohh—!"
The second climax builds faster than the first—sharper, meaner, your whole body wound tight as a wire. His tongue relentlessly assaults your clit while two fingers sink into your cunt without warning, crooking against that spot inside you, and your vision whites out.
"That's my pretty girl."
Higuruma pulls back just enough to let you ride out the aftershocks, fingers still drawing merciless circles on your oversensitive clit.
Somewhere behind the roar of blood in your ears, you hear a belt click as fabric shifts. You force your eyes to focus—watching his slacks fall as he stands, his cock springing free—flushed and heavy, bobbing as his cockhead smeared with pre drips down the length of him.
Fuck. Somehow Higuruma looks even bigger than you remember, thick enough to make your whole body clench with want and fear in equal measure.
He kneels, dragging your hips to the edge. His hand wraps around himself, stroking, and you hold your breath—finally, finally—
But he just slaps his cock against your clit. Tap, tap, tap. Precum and spit and slick mixing obscenely
You squirm, clearly overstimmed which draws a smug chuckle from him.
"Is it terrible that I enjoy teasing you?"
"Hiro—" You whine, hips jerking toward him. You pout up at him sweetly—and watch his cock twitch in response. His resolve visibly cracking.
"Yes, doll. Say it again." Higuruma's cock notches at your entrance, pressing but not pushing. "Scream it this time, for me yes?"
You expect more teasing, more torture.
Instead, he snaps his hips forward in one brutal thrust—splitting you open until he's buried to the hilt.
You scream his name so loud you don't even hear it leave your throat.
You might have cum again—you only know because of the string of expletives spilling from Higuruma's mouth, his composure finally shattered.
"F-Fuck, dove—" He's panting, forehead pressed to yours. "She's choking me. You need to relax." A strained laugh escapes him. "She feels like a noose—and I'd prefer to avoid capital punishment tonight, if it's all the same to you."
You can't answer, tears streaming as you gasp from him filling you so completely. Higuruma leans down and licks them up too, tongue tracing the salt tracks on your skin. You're starting to think he's genuinely obsessed with your bodily fluids.
Higuruma pecks your lips gently, letting you adjust.
"Have you not been touching yourself?" His voice is softer now, curiously teasing as he admires the state simply sticking his cock in has reduced you to. "Have you been waiting for me all this time?"
"I w-wasn't g-gonna" You swallow, cunt fluttering around him. "B-But it wasn't enough. It wasn't y-you."
"'Wasn't gonna', huh?" He mocks you, his rich baritone tickling your senses as his thumb returns to your clit to flick over her languidly.
"Naughty girl." He kisses the corner of your mouth. "But I suppose I'll argue a plea deal in your defense this once. It was my fault after all for neglecting you."
Your thighs burn from being spread around his broad hips, the sheer weight of him pressing you into the sofa, his knees braced on the floor. When you finally loosen around him—walls relaxing, body surrendering to him—he slips his tongue into your mouth as his hips begin to move.
Small thrusts at first. Micro-movements. Like he can't bear to have even an inch of himself outside the warm embrace of your slick walls.
Then his hand presses down on your lower belly, and your eyelashes flutter as your eyes roll back.
"There it is." He groans, grinding deeper. "Can you feel how she makes room for me?"
Higuruma doesn't give you the chance to answer before he picks up the pace, hand staying pressed to your stomach, savoring every twitch of your muscles. The exact movement of your guts shifting around him—how your body so lovingly allows him to ruin her from the inside out.
His teeth find your bottom lip, biting down as his other hand slides up to your throat, fingers wrapping around the column of your neck. He squeezes lightly, rhythmically, matching the desperate clench of your pretty pussy around him.
Higuruma wants to cum with you. But he can feel you're already there—already tipping over the edge—
"Hiro... 'm gonna—"
"Oh?" He doesn't slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder. "Without me, dear? How inconsiderate." His thumb presses into the side of your throat. "Go ahead. But I won't be granting leniency. You cum now and then you're going to keep coming until I say stop."
"P-Pleaseeee, m-mercyyy—" You're babbling, desperate. The word slips out before you can stop it: "—Judge."
Higuruma almost cums right then and there, hips stuttering.
"Oh, you're pushing it now, princess."
Your doe eyes blink up at him, and somewhere beneath the desperation, you find the brat in you after all.
"What's wrong, your honor?" The words drip from your lips like honey, saccharine and deliberately provocative. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
Higuruma's grip tightens on your throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who's in control here. His hips still, cock buried deep, twitching inside you.
"Careful, dove."
You clench around him deliberately.
Something in him snaps. No more warnings.
Higuruma pulls out and you're immediately feeling the loss of him—but before you can protest, his hands are hooking under your thighs and hauling your ass up off the sofa.
Drenched in your combined mess, and his grip slips once before he adjusts, hoisting you higher. Your legs end up over his shoulders, folded nearly in half, and you have nothing—no wall behind you, no leverage, nothing to hold onto but the thick column of his neck.
Completely at Higuruma's mercy.
Your nails dig into his skin on instinct—the only anchor you have.
"There we go." He groans at the bite of pain, positioning his cock at your entrance. "Hold on tight, princess."
He slams you down onto him in one brutal drop.
You scream.
The angle is devastating—deeper than before, impossibly deep, his cock splitting you open while gravity does the rest. You have no control here. Can't set the pace, can't shift positions—can't do anything but cling to him and take it. Every thrust jolts through your entire body, punching the air from your lungs.
Your nails rake down his neck and he hisses, but his eyes roll back in pleasure, not pain.
"Harder." He commands. "Mark me up. I want to feel you for days."
You're too fucked-out to process it fully—is he sadistic or masochistic? Both? Does it matter when he's bouncing you on his cock like you weigh nothing, arms flexing as he lifts and drops you with terrifying ease? You're nothing but a vessel now, suspended and speared utterly for his pleasure.
"I'm going to take care of you, princess. Take care of this pretty pussy." His palms grip your ass, fingers digging in white-knuckled, desperate for leverage as he fucks up into you. "Going to make sure she never goes hungry again. Every morning. Every night. Whenever she asks for it."
"Hiro—" You're sobbing, pleasure cresting unbearably high, just gasps and moans punched out of you with every thrust. "Please, I need to—I can't—"
"Not yet." Higuruma's jaw clenches, fighting his own release. "Hold it."
"I-I c-c-can't—" Your walls are fluttering around him, clenching involuntarily, and you see stars at the edges of your vision. "P-Please, please, J-Judge, I'll do anythinggggg—"
"Anything?" His hips stutter at the title, cock kicking inside you. "Dangerous words, doll. I'll hold you to them."
His grip on your ass tightens, nails biting into the soft flesh now—mirroring what you're doing to his neck. The wet slap of skin echoes obscenely through the office, your slick dripping down his thighs, pooling on the hardwood beneath you.
"From now on—" He's losing rhythm, thrusts turning erratic. "—this pussy gets what she needs... you'll come to me? You'll tell me exactly what she needs?"
"Y-Yes—y-yes!!! Jusss p-pleaseeee—"
"Every ache—" A brutal thrust. "—every need—" Another. "—you bring it to me. Understood?"
You're babbling incoherent confirmations, head lolling back, eyes rolling into your skull.
"Cum, then. Give it to me, babydoll—"
The orgasm tears through you like a live wire—blinding, violent, your pussy clamping down so hard he chokes on a moan. Your nails draw blood on his neck and he growls, burying himself to the hilt—
And then you feel it.
The first hot pulse of him flooding your insides. His cock kicking against your walls, swelling impossibly thicker as he empties himself into you. Rope after rope of cum painting your clenching cunt, so deep you swear you feel the warmth in your throat.
For a long moment, neither of you moves. The noises of your breathing filling the space.
His cock is still buried inside you, softening but not quite soft, and you can feel his cum leaking out around the seal of your bodies—dripping down your thighs, onto the floor, adding to the mess you've already made of his office.
Higuruma's forehead drops to yours, hips grinding through the aftershocks, working every last drop into you. "You feel that? How much I saved for you, dove?"
You can only whimper in response. You do feel it—the obscene heat spreading through your core, the way his cum has nowhere to go with his cock still plugging you full. When he shifts his hips, grinding deeper, some of it squelches out around the seal of your bodies.
"Taking it so well—" His voice is shot, barely above a rasp. "Milking every drop—good girl—"
Your legs are shaking. Your whole body is shaking.
"Hiro..." You're slurring, drunk on him. "Can't... can't feel my legs..."
A breathless laugh rumbles through his chest. "Mm." He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the tear tracks still drying on your skin. Unbearably tender after everything he just did to you. "That's what happens when you taunt a man who's been starving for a month, doll."
"Worth it," you giggle.
"Brat." But there's only fondness in his voice.
Slowly, carefully, he shifts his grip—one arm hooked under your ass, the other cradling your back as he finally lets your legs slide off his shoulders. You wince at the change in angle, cunt clenching involuntarily around him, and he groans.
"Easy." His voice is strained. "Keep doing that and we won't make it to the shower."
You're tempted to test him. But exhaustion wins out, your body going limp against his chest as he carries you toward the bathroom.
"Let's get you cleaned up." His lips brush your temple. "Then I'll take you home, hm?"
You pout. After everything—after a month of waiting, of longing, of convincing yourself you were nothing but a convenient release—you're not ready for this to end.
Not ready to go back to your empty apartment and pretend tonight didn't change everything.
Higuruma catches the look on your face and chuckles softly.
"I mean my home," he clarifies, nudging the bathroom door open with his shoulder. "We can clean up properly there. I'll cook you breakfast." He sets you down on the counter, and you shiver at the cold marble against your bare skin—but he doesn't pull out, not yet, his half-hard cock still nestled inside you like he can't bear the separation either. "Then I can worship you the way you deserve. Properly. Without a deadline or a case file waiting on my desk."
Your heart stutters. "You don't have to—"
"I want to." His hands cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones, and his eyes—god, his eyes are so soft now. Tired and tender and looking at you like you're something precious. "I should have done this a month ago. Should have made time. Should have told you what you are to me instead of assuming you'd wait."
"I would have." The admission slips out before you can stop it. "Waited, I mean. For you. I would have."
Something fractures in his expression. He doesn't say anything—just pulls you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead like he's trying to seal a promise there.
"You shouldn't have had to. No more waiting. No more silence. From now on, you tell me what you need—and I'll give it to you. Understood?"
"Understood, counselor."
His lips twitch. "Careful. You keep using titles and we'll never leave this bathroom."
You grin, exhausted and fucked-out and deliriously happy. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both." He kisses you then—tongue gliding against yours, your taste still lingering. When he pulls back, his cock twitches inside you, thickening again.
"Definitely both."
"Mm." You pull back, pretending to consider. "I don't know. A month is a looooong time. I might need extensive compensation."
"Is that so?" Higuruma quirks a brow.
"Yup! Emotional damages. Pain and suffering." You tick them off on your fingers. "Loss of consortium—"
"You don't know what half those terms mean."
"I know what I want them to mean." you say slyly, clenching around him once more.
Realistically, you don't think either of you are leaving this office tonight.
𝐚𝐧: ahhh i love writing higuruma as an EATERRRRRRRR. this one was a lil bit more angsty, well not really angsty, reader is just super horny and it's making her a delulu pick me cjksdbfkjvhsb. i mean the way he dicked her down tho, who could blame her? lol this one was a bit more cute endings than im used to writing. i feel like its a bit cheesy but w/e, we ball. im tired of editing it hfdjkvhbf. so also sorry for any errors or duplicate sentences as i reworked alot of this fbsdhbsd.
𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼? then please 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 or 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠! you can also join my gen. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 or contribute to the 𝐛𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐨$𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐝.
higuruma shushes you softly, trying to put an end to your restless squirming and your impatience as he holds you down on the bed. you wanted his dick in you well over ten minutes ago, but he insists on dragging this out and torturing you with long foreplay.
you're aware of his size, having spent long enough gaping at his cock as it rests against his belly, and with all the time he's spent pumping one, two, then three thick fingers inside you to prepare you to be split open around him, you're sure you'll have no trouble fitting him inside you. yet he continues to worry and fret about the possibility of you getting hurt. "mmh! baby, i promise i'm fine, would you please just-"
he interrupts you this time by pulling out the three fingers that were just buried in you to the knuckle, and slapping his palm firmly against your sopping hole. the bastard smiles at the high pitched, whiny noise you make when he spanks your pussy.
higuruma rubs the heel of his hand against your swollen folds while pushing his thumb against your clit, lips quirking at the loud, pitchy noises leaving you in response. "we had a talk abut patience, remember sweetheart?" he says softly, letting out a huff through his nose when you squeal and squirt a clear spray of liquid all over his hand and yourself. some hits his face, and he casually licks it off his chin without taking his eyes off you, continuing to spank that sensitive cunt of yours until you're done.
"but you just don't care, do you?" he tells you quietly, finally lining himself up to you. "you want cock, so you must get it now." you whine as he wastes more time rubbing the flared, swollen, and leaking head of his cock back and forth along your puffy folds. your eyes flit between the look of concentration on his face and the way he’s smearing rivulets of precum around your hole, then suck in a breath when he taps his tip heavily against your clit.
your chest heaves as little wanton pants leave you each time he teases you by aligning his cock perfectly with your opening just to shift away from it and go back to rubbing against you.
you never thought he could be such a tease.
tears of frustration are threatening to spill from your eyes, and you sit up slightly, about to grab his cock out of his hand and push it in you yourself, before he beats you to it, finally notching just the thick head past your sopping hole.
harmonious groans leave both of you simultaneously as your pussy stretches around him to accommodate the intrusion of his tip. though he’s barely inside you, it’s already a struggle. it’s like he’s gotten bigger or you’ve gotten tighter since your last fuck, which hadn’t been for a while now because he’s been so busy. and now, you can hardly get the first few inches of his hefty cock inside you.
you sit up on your forearms, chest rising and falling heavily as the two of you break eye contact to both look at where your pussy is wrapped around his cock, folds swallowing up his length and sucking him in deeper. he lets out a soft hiss through his teeth, not wanting to lose his head and cum prematurely from the sight, but it’s so captivating.
higuruma lets out little pants, his hands now gripping your hips firmly to abstain from slamming into you like an animal. he's controlling both you and himself as his vision glazes slightly each time he sees your pussy clenching around him. you're milking and sucking at the part of his cock that's already filled you up.
"look at that," he groans, one hand sliding around to your front to press against your lower belly, feeling the bulge of his cock from the inside. "you're taking me so well already. i told you preparation would help."
the words send a shiver through you, and you whimper, trying to shift your hips back to take more of him. but he's got you pinned, using his grip on your hips to control every movement.
higuruma pulls back just slightly, then pushes back in, repeating the motion in shallow thrusts that make you squeal with need. each movement drags his thick tip over your inner walls, the ridge catching and pressing against sensitive nerves. You can feel every vein, every pulse of his cock as it fucks into you.
"higuruma please-" you gasp, "i need more."
he shakes his head softly, mouthing along the curve of your neck and shoulders. he lays nearly on top of you, pressing hot kisses to your skin as his thrusts begin to pick up speed. "i'm getting there. just let me... fuck, just let me enjoy this."
the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies joining fill the room as higuruma finally begins to move in earnest. each thrust is deep and deliberate, intended to make you feel every thick inch of him as it slides in and out of your soaked pussy. your inner walls clench around his cock, trying to hold him inside as he pulls back, only to be stretched even further as he bottoms out.
you cry out, your back arching as he fills you to the hilt, his heavy balls pressing against your ass. he leans forward, his chest pressing against yours with his thrusts quickening more, and he starts pounding into you from above as loud groans and pants filled with your name leave his lips. you can feel the heat building in your core, that familiar pressure that signals your approaching climax.
"fuck, you feel incredible," higuruma moans, burying his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "so perfect. 's like you're made just for me, isn't it?" you nod shakily, eyes watering with overwhelming pleasure when the head of his cock shoves against your cervix. you squeal and grab onto his bicep for support while his hands dig into your hips, using it as an anchor as he pounds into you with increasing fervor. the bed creaks beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall in a rhythmic thump that seems to punctuate each deep thrust.
you grab him by the tie around his neck, halting him from his slobbery kisses to your pulse point below your ear, and slot your mouth messily onto his instead. and the moment you do, higuruma obeys your silent command without question. hishands move to brace on either side of your head as you pull him down into a deep, hungry kiss.
his cock slows its frantic pace because the new angle allows you to take him even deeper as he fucks you missionary-style, his chest pressed against yours. his tongue rolls over yours and scopes your mouth as his cock pushes into you to the hilt, balls squished against the curve of your ass while his tip places another kiss to your cervix. he gets distracted and can't kiss you and fuck you at once, so he keeps that mind numbing pressure on your womb while moaning into your mouth and devouring you.
"you're so perfect," he says, barely moving inside you at this point, but he allows you some breathing room by occasionally dragging his cock back nice and slow, then pushing back inside. he's not pulling out properly anymore. he just keeps hitting that spot deep inside that makes your vision blur with pleasure.
"baby, i can't... i can't last much longer," he moans against your lips, his body tensing above you. but you won't let him pull away, tightening your grip on his tie. when he tries to warn you again, you cut him off with a whispered assurance. "do it, i want your cum, higuruma."
"oh, fuck." his entire body goes rigid above you, and you feel the first hot spurt of his release deep inside your womb. "i'm... c-cumming, i'm gonna-"
he shoves his tongue into your mouth again to silence the embarrassingly loud noises leaving his mouth, his cock throbbing as it dumps what feels like an endless stream of thick, hot cum inside you. his load fills you up and coats your inner walls, all the pressure from being so full and the warmth of his cum sending you over the edge right after.
tw: suggestive, mention of viagra jokingly | wc: 4k | | notes: repost/rewrite from old acc | art by @/_suracii_
masterlists
satoru gojo calls out "i'm home!" into the house from the front door.
you're so giddy with excitement you almost forget to reply. "welcome back! i've got dinner going, just wash up," you tell him, making yourself look busy by unnecessarily opening the pot lids and stirring.
"hhh, i wanna sleep and never wake up again," he sighs exaggeratedly, hobbling over to wrap his arms around your waist and press gentle kisses to your neck. you know you've got him when he slows his ministrations and just rests his face in the crook of your neck, sniffing continuously.
"is that a new perfume?" he asks, brushing his thumb across your lower stomach and gripping you tighter when you squeal and protest that it tickles.
"i've been in the kitchen for the past two hours, i don't think what you're smelling is perfume, per se," you joke, almost yelping and slapping him in the face when he noses at the sensitive skin of your jugular. he slowly tugs you away from the stove and turns you in his arms, resuming his assault on your neck. "you, mmm, smell so nice," he groans.
you have to steady yourself by reaching behind you to grab the counter, your grip tight, biting your bottom lip when he starts to nip at your flesh. "satoru, that hurts," you whimper, albeit not resisting his affections, only wincing every time his canines dig their way into your scented skin.
"sorry, baby," he rasps, inhaling deeply. he presses an apologetic kiss to the marks on your neck before pulling away and running a hand over his face. his pupils are blown, his lips wet from licking them so much. you're almost scared to ask if he's alright.
you laugh at his expression instead, a smile of his own stretching his lips at the sound. he kisses your cheek and traces his thumbs over your hip bones.
while he tries oh so hard to listen to you talk about your day, he can't help but swallow thickly every time you turn your head or shift closer to him, your sweet aroma wafting towards him.
"can we skip dinner?"
"no, you are not having dessert first."
"please?"
"...go shower first."
you quickly roll the perfume on your neck and wrists, hurriedly checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror and inhaling deeply to prepare yourself for whatever outcome was awaiting you.
"my love, can you come here?" suguru geto calls out from his study, frustration evident in his voice.
"coming!" you hide the perfume somewhere reliable and head upstairs. when you enter his study, he's pacing, his forehead tense and tie loosened around his neck. he lights up somewhat at the sight of you, before asking, "have you seen the papers i was grading?"
you relax. "yeah, i hid them away from your..." you motion towards the three mugs on his desk, still stained with coffee from hours ago, "mess." that earns you a sheepish smile from him, and you shake your head fondly before retrieving said papers from one of his file cabinets. he sighs in relief and takes them from you, pressing a grateful kiss to your lips.
"i don't know what i'd do without you," he laughs, wrapping an arm around your neck and kissing your temple. you lean into his embrace and let him rest his chin on your head for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall with a deep intake of breath. he tends to become more affectionate when he's under a lot of stress, and you can see a slight tremble in his hand as he places the papers on the desk behind him.
his brows furrow. "i may be caffeine-blooded right now, but do you smell different?" he asks, inhaling the scent drifting from your neck. "is this the one i bought you?"
you squirm when he lowers his head to your collarbone, his large hands resting on your lower back to steady you. leaning back, you allow him further access, while also being mindful of your own intentions.
"no, uh, this one's from the drugstore." geto starts to push your hair behind your ear and nibble at your adam's apple, your hands finding leverage on his broad shoulders. "careful!" you scold when he presses you against the cabinet behind you.
he pauses his kisses to gaze up at you through his lashes, a brow raised in question of your small smile.
"what?" you feign innocence.
geto catches the glint in your eye and has a relative idea of what you've done.
"you temptress."
before coming home from work, you applied some of the perfume in your car and take one last sniff of it when you step onto the welcome mat at your front door. you kick your heels off and announce yourself, to which you hear kento nanami say, "in the living room."
throwing your bag on the floor beside your heels, you rush to your husband as fast as you can with the ache in your feet, finding him engrossed in a book with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. you throw your arms around his neck from behind with a loud exhale of breath, nuzzling your cheek into his hair.
"kentooo, i missed you so much," you whine, feeling his hands reach up to rest on yours.
his deep chuckle resonates through you. "as did i, sweetheart. i'm glad you're home safe."
you unbutton your blazer and toss it over the back of the couch before throwing yourself down beside him, snuggling into his side. nanami places his book down on the coffee table before leaning down, back bent, to kiss you. he groans into it and gently brushes your hair out of your face.
after the prolonged intimate moment, you pull away and let him tug you closer, allowing your head to fall on his shoulder.
"you smell nice," he mutters, kissing your hairline.
"thanks."
you expect him to tell you about his day, or at least about the book he's reading—as he usually does. instead, he's quiet, not uncharacteristically so, but enough for you to notice small changes like the tightening of his grip on you.
he lifts his head and looks you over. "what perfume brand is that? it's," he clears his throat, "very strong."
you pout. "a bad strong?"
"...not exactly."
nanami wraps an arm around your shoulders, humming lowly when you angle your body just so to let your legs stretch out over his lap. he begins massaging your calves and, unsubtly, glances at you every so often.
"what?"
"nothing," he responds, a little too quickly, you notice. you can tell that he's picked up on the intoxicating aspect of the scent and it makes it very hard to contain your smile.
it's silent for a moment, before nanami curses under his breath and dives in to kiss you again, catching you immensely off guard. you whimper into the notably rougher, needier kiss. he takes advantage of your released noises and slips his tongue past your lips, a kiss that was just needy now turned sloppy. hell, you feel yourself start to drool.
when you part for air, he takes his glasses off and tosses them onto the table, before leaning over you and forcing you to lay back on the couch. "i know you've done something," he rasps, "but as of right now..." he starts kissing your neck, "i don't have the sense to figure out what."
you've devised a plan on how to tempt toji fushiguro more than you already do—by rolling on the perfume you have seen people rave about online for the past month. only, you need a way to get toji to smell it without making it completely obvious as to what you're doing.
so while he's lounging on the couch, scratching his chest and staring at the tv absentmindedly, you decide to shroud your plan under the guise of making him something to snack on. you grab whatever you find in the pantry and decorate a plate with it, making it look somewhat appetising, before placing it before him on the coffee table.
the corner of his lips twitch. "you're too good to me, ma." he pulls you into his lap and pecks your lips. "thank you."
"of course. was thinking takeout for lunch. what do you think?" he hums in the affirmative and slides a hand along your waist to rest on the soft expanse of your stomach.
you lean into his chest, letting his calloused albeit comforting touch lull you into a sense of relaxation, even as the sound of gunshots ring from the tv and blast into your ears. the moment seems to draw out without him picking up on your scent, so you shift in his lap and lean slightly closer into his chest, making it seem as though you want to cuddle (which, hey, you do, but it doubles as the perfect excuse to let your aroma drift closer to him).
when he bites into a small slab of chocolate, he catches sight of your anticipatory expression from his peripheral vision. he swallows, brow raised. "these some of those viagra-chocolates, or what? you're lookin' like you wanna jump my bones."
"what—i don't wanna 'jump your bones,' toji." you roll your eyes and grab his jaw to forcibly turn his gaze back to the tv.
"so you wanna tell me why you're givin' me those eyes?"
"what eyes? can i not admire you?" you retort gently, but don't fail to notice the way his hand on your stomach pulls you closer. only then does he lean down and start sniffing consciously.
"damn," he groans. "what the hell do you have on, ma? got me scenting you 'n everything."
"nothinggg," you whine, feeling him tug you even closer so that your back presses up against his chest. you try your best to keep your attention limited to the tv, but it's growing harder to do so when he starts nipping at and kissing your neck. "i'm trying to watch, baby."
"nah, we can do that later," is all he says before pushing you flat on the couch, crawling up your body and lowering his face to yours. "think i need to investigate a little more to figure out what you're plotting."
"n—"
"if you say 'nothing' again, i will throw you over my knee."
your lady in waiting was noticeably hesitant to let you go through with this, but instead of vetoing it with more than just words, she watches you with pursed lips and underlying curiosity as you roll the perfume on your neck, wrists, and behind your ears. it wasn't as if ryomen sukuna would kill you for this—you're his wife, for heaven's sake. frankly, you were giddy at the thought of what he might do upon catching on to your little scheme.
so, later, when you're in your chambers watching sukuna loosen the tie of his robe and approach you with heavy steps, you're practically jumping out of your skin with anticipation.
"wife," he starts, voice gruff, "i expect that no mishaps disturbed your day?" the king of curses always checks up on you, but you know that if anything or anyone were to upset you, he would deal with whatever or whoever it was without you hearing of it. a formality, of sorts, that he should check up on his wife's wellbeing. a requirement, that he should deal with your concerns without burdening you.
"of course not," you insist. "a new child join the nursery today. quite the shy one, he is. poor boy didn't know a whisper of tongue."
he huffs in acknowledgement of your small predicament. one of his upper arms encircle your waist to lift you to his chest, prompting you to wrap your arms and legs around him—your usual routine after finally being able to retire to your chambers after the monotonous responsibilities that awaited the two of you daily.
one of his lower arms slides under your ass to hold you up, not that he needed the extra leverage; the arm around your waist was enough. but any excuse to have his arms around you without coming off as too clingy, he would take without so much as a hint that he enjoyed it.
it's when your head slips under his chin to rest against his collarbone does he comment. "are you experimenting with herbs again?" he grunts, sitting you in his lap once he's settled on the futon with his back against the wall.
your head tilts slightly. "no, my love. why do you ask?"
"you reek."
"how kind of you, ryomen."
"you have never known me to be kind, woman. explain yourself."
"if you must know, i have applied some incense. i only recently had it delivered from that dear old vendor in ichihime."
sukuna doesn't speak for a moment, allowing himself to be lured closer to your fragranced skin. when you feel his tongue lap at your neck experimentally, you flinch and smack his chest reproachingly.
"it is not the worst of them."
from the king of curses, that was very high praise.
and from the way his pupils dilate, you're certain he isn't going to let you off with a simple lick to your neck.
if there was one person you loved pulling this crap on, it was shiu kong. you never saw the man without his phone pressed to his ear and a cigarette dangling from in between his lips, so it made it all the more satisfying when you managed to get the jump on him and make him lose grip on his usual nonchalance.
you should be home by now, ordering takeout and binging your favourite show with your feet up, not still in the office with the man who seems to love work-life more than home-life.
"shiuuu," you call out from your own cubicle, as if you don't already know that he's taking a call and he's more likely to subconsciously tune you out than even consider that his wife may be looking for him. it's nothing personal; you're very much aware that years of working as a catalyst for murder and assassinations changes your priorities.
when you knock on his ajar door to get his attention, he glances over at you and nods, beckoning you inside with his index and middle finger. you shut the door behind you and approach his desk with measured steps, approaching him intently.
you reach up to caress his cheek, letting the perfume on your wrist waft into his nostrils, and smile (not so) innocently at him when he turns his head and kisses your palm.
the scent hits him like a dopamine hit and his voice instantly loses its clarity. he doesn't start stuttering, by any means, but his right leg starts bouncing. when he physically turns his head away from you, you know you could start trashing the place and he wouldn't say a thing—only stare at you with that intoxicated gaze of sheer want.
sighing, you round his desk to be in his line of sight again.
"no, fushiguro, you either keep this under wraps or forget about the 40mil... what? no, we can't have a celebratory dinner. i'd rather chew on a jean jacket than—"
you bat your lashes at him.
"i'll call you back."
and within the second that it takes him to hang up and toss his phone aside, shiu has launched himself on you, fuelled by the giggles of a woman who knows what she's doing to him—while he is entirely oblivious to the fact that the fog enveloping his mind is directly from the perfume he inhaled not more than a minute ago.
"you," he rasps, pawing at your waist and even further down your body, "are a problem."
"mm, is that what you call me now?"
"oh, shut it," he practically growls, but there's anything but malice in his voice—just the deep baritones of a man overcome by desire.
hiromi higuruma was the person you were most determined needed this distraction. it was getting to a point where your dates turned into facetime calls and hour-long texting sessions, and, frankly, you wanted more. it's not to say that you were sick of it, but being with a man like higuruma meant you had needs and his attention was all you needed.
he's been cooped up in his home office for the past six hours, leaving only to go to the bathroom or check up on you (which consisted of him asking, "what are you up to, darling?", kissing your cheek, then heading back up to continue his hermit-ing). is it really so out of the ordinary for you to crave more?
no. so you do something about it.
besides you, coffee is the one thing higuruma would invite as a distraction; if the eight empty mugs on his desk were anything to go by. so, you deliver your gorgeous self with a fresh brew to his office door. you knock, just in case he's taking a call, and enter when he calls you in.
he's tired, that much is clear, but he's reserved enough strength to smile softly as you approach him.
"hi, my love. thought i'd bring you another. and clean all this," you say, picking up the dirty mugs and placing them by the window.
"no need. i'll wash them myself," he insists, humming lowly when you stand near him again, this time enough to stroke a hand through his hair.
but, when you first lift your hand to do so, the perfume on your wrist permeates the air and wriggles into the radius of his senses.
"new fragrance?"
"mhm. you like?"
he inhales deeply, and you take that as a hard yes. "yeah. amber musk?"
you grin. "something like that."
higuruma, for all his assertiveness, grabs your hand tenderly, enough to make you miss him despite the skin-to-skin contact. he presses it to his cheek but turns his head just so that he may lavish your palm with kisses (and perhaps breathe in your new scent like it's oxygen).
"it's... really nice," he breathes out, practically gasping at the reprieve you've given him. "forgive me—just let me feel you."
and you do, all the while leaning against the edge of his desk and blood heating at his touch. hell, you intended for this to happen; you're not about to close the door in your own face. you need this as much as he does.
he practically falls into a state of delirium as he kisses every sliver of skin he detects, his breath laboured and hot on your flesh. it's enough of a rush to know that you bring this man to his knees—literally and figuratively—let alone feel him touch you almost reverently.
"work's tough, huh?"
he groans into the plush skin of your stomach. that's also a hard yes.
"you smell so good, my love. i think i can go another six hours just off the scent of you alone."
"let me help you with that, then," you whisper, and that's all the encouragement he needs to loosen his tie and let himself get lost in you.
the biggest difficulty of pulling this off was getting choso kamo off your back for longer than a minute to spritz your pulse points with the new perfume you just had delivered. you'd be damned if you weren't going to engage with the newest trend flooding your socials, especially when this one was actually good.
"baby, what's that smell?" choso calls out from the bedroom.
you shove the small bottle into one of the bathroom cabinets and try to slow your steps as you walk back into the bedroom with a small smile. "just some perfume, baby. i like applying some before bed, remember?"
"i remember, but this one smells different. a-a good different," he quickly emphasises.
choso looks so stiff, not making any effort to get into the bed he so carefully prepared for the night, and confines his attention to you and—gosh—that sweet scent.
"you okay?" you ask, lifting the covers and slipping into bed, prompting him to finally do the same as if you snapped your fingers in his entranced face.
"yeah, i'm alright. i'm... i'm okay."
he assumes his usual sleeping position, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his front to your back. all the better for him to catch on, you muse. and if he doesn't, i'm reporting the video that inspired me to do this crap.
a prolonged pause then nips at your nerves, a stark contrast to the nightly and practically autonomous mumbles of "good night," "i love you," and "sleep well." the silence is so thick that it settles behind your eyes and makes it impossible to even consider falling asleep.
but, it's not that choso hasn't noticed. no, the poor man is drowning in your scent, so unsure of how to comment on it without making it seem as though it's bothering him—even though it is, a lot.
"b-baby?" he whispers into your hair.
"hm?"
"you smell really nice. it's... making me restless."
you smile tiredly. "i can tell. do you need help?"
though it's dark and your back is turned so you cannot see it, his eyes widen slightly. "you mean...?"
"mhm. i don't mind staying up another hour."
he sits up. "can we make it two?"
"don't push it."
"mmm, okay, sorry."
okkotsu yuta is always more than happy to oblige your hobbies, your cravings, even. he doesn't see temper loss as an option with you, not because he has to suppress the urge to snap, but because he cannot find it within the darkest depths of his soul to direct his frustration at you—and you've seen him mad. just never at you.
that's why you don't have to worry about pulling something like this. the man is already infatuated with you, this whole thing was entirely unnecessary. but when did you ever do these things out of necessity?
"hey, honey? can you come here for a sec?"
yuta is in the kitchen within seconds, already approaching you from behind. "i'm here, dove. what d'ya need?"
he just sounds happy to be there, to be of any assistance to you, and you're more than geeked at the reality prospect of having him follow you around for the rest of his days.
"can you grab those cookies for me?" you pout, while making absolutely zero effort to reach for them.
he looks up at the open cabinet, then back down at you. "you've never had a problem before. did you hurt your arm? let me see—"
"no, honey," you interject, laughing breathily. "just not bothered."
he nods like that's a completely acceptable excuse—you won't let anyone tell you that it's not—and reaches for the plastic box before placing it on the counter in front of you. "there."
you hum in satisfaction and take a cookie, bringing it up to his lips. "try them. they're new."
your wrist brushes against his chin and the underside of his nose. it gives him very brief pause, but then he's biting into the baked good as if nothing is amiss. you notice the subtle hitch in his breath when he inhales and almost groan in annoyance when he does little more.
"they're a little too sweet for my liking," he notes out loud.
with a doubtful look, you say, "they're only sweetened with coconut oil and dark chocolate."
he purses his lips in consideration, brows furrowed. "are you sure? where's all the sweetness from then?"
"external, ahem, sources."
your wrist manages to sway past his nose again, and that's when he registers that you not only smell of musk, but have an aroma that would make a lesser mammal believe you are the embodiment of a baked good.
"i might need to start calling you honey," he murmurs, now delving his head into the crook of your neck, where he gets another gust of that luscious scent.
you snort. "you're so corny."
"i am... something that rhymes with that, yeah." he smiles sheepishly.
18+. the many times you & higuruma get caught at work.
I. case one: the evidence locker ( 8:12 PM )
higuruma hiromi is dark pressed suit, two rings on his long fingers & a moral compass that always points north. you’re a paralegal with skirt 3cm below the dress code & a magnet in your molars that has hiromi’s compass swiveling south.
you’re tugging on his tie now. “come onnn, ‘ruma. please?”
a paralegal should not be referring to their boss as ‘ruma. they also should not be dragging him into the evidence locker at 8PM to look for a ‘missing file’ he swears doesn’t even exist. you’re currently doing both. and higuruma lets you.
your lips are summer sticky & far too hot. your hand’s in his hair now, nails on his nape, his palm bunching at the folds of your skirt. your breath’s ridiculously hot in his mouth as you huff & puff against his tongue, shoving him against the lockers. hiromi slaps your ass when you dare to let out a whine.
BANG !
the loud sound jolts your bodies apart. higuruma’s palm is still on your thigh—“hiromi ?!”
“the auto-lock,” his palms drag over his face. he breathes, “it’s eight-thirty. the basement seals automatically till the morning shift.”
he lets out a low, frustrated groan that vibrates through your rib. even now, you’re still pressed against him, half-clothed tits pressed into his chest as his thumb grazes circles on your hip. he dials a number with his other hand, ignoring the sloppy, gloss-drenched kisses you leave on his jaw as he speaks to the security desk at the end of the line.
half-an-hour later—after higuruma’s stewing & you calming him down with apology head, complete with your hair tied in a sympathy bun of course—the heavy metal door drags open. a security guard armed with a flashlight walks in. he’s greeted with the sight of higuruma buttoning your shirt, sympathy bun long come undone.
you’re free. and you’re in so much trouble.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: UNAUTHORIZED AFTER-HOURS ACCESS & BREACH OF SECURITY
punishment: Written warning & $500 Penalty fine for Emergency Override.
issued by: Levi Ackerman, Chief of security.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘the evidence locker is no place for ‘private deliberations.’ and keep in mind all audio is recorded. in no world should the word ‘tight’ be moaned in an emergency distress call.
II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )
higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.
frankly, you’re the worst paralegal he’s had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he can’t help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!
you’re much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didn’t reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled ‘sorry!’ and ‘meet me downstairs for some apology head ;)’. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.
so he decides he’ll teach you himself.
Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.
Regards,
Higuruma Hiromi
—
Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
Counselor,
Are you threatening me with a complaint? I’m just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so I’d be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when you’d like me to drop in and fix those files!
Regards,
Y/N L/N
—
Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma, Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
You can come fix it now. And then I’m going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache you’re deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. I’m a very patient man, but even I have limits.
Higuruma Hiromi.
ー
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
ruma,
i suck at corporate speak 😭 are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr
—
Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB
From: Hange Zoë (IT Department)
To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]
CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)
Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],
Just a friendly heads-up: I’m running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.’
Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! I’ve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)
Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I don’t doubt he’d be willing to eat you out as well!
Happy eating!
Zoë Hange
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT
punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.
issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘It has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for ‘personal negotiations,’ that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firm’s Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.’
III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )
higuruma hiromi thinks he’s so fucking smart.
he also thinks he’s the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoom’s actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.
“you’re late, y/n,” higuruma’s voice is close to guttural. he’s laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and you’re knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.
you’re sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. you’re grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,
“hi, ‘ruma! wanna see my tits?”
lord, how higuruma adores you !
and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. he’s already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.
a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.
[Participants: 48]
higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.
slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.
forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.
erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoë has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer you’d often send him—i show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meeting—he knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.
and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.
is he looking at your breasts ?
oh right, you! you’ve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.
“‘ruma? ‘ruma? ugh, is this thing on?”
higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION
punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)
issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]
‘Hey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, we’ve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they weren’t having it.’
P.S: ‘Nice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!’
`𓏲𝄢 ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ higuruma with a sweet, oblivious wife who always writes small encouraging messages on sticky notes before signing them off with a prominent red kiss mark on the paper and sticking it onto the inside his briefcase.
but what she doesn’t know is that once he’s finally left alone during his break, he hastily pulls out his straining cock that rest uncomfortably against his dress pants and start pumping up and down. smearing his sticky precum all over his beat red tip with a throaty groan all while your innocent note is gripped tightly in his unoccupied hand.
his hand lightly squeezes at the base, straining himself, before working his way back up his heavy length twisting in meticulous strokes that simulate the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock.
with a muffled moan hidden behind his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he finally spills thick white ropes of cum as his chest heaves with spasming hips. he rests slump on his office chair for a few minutes, hand still fisting his cock and all.
he soon opens his tired eyes to be met with undeniable evidence of his own actions. your sweetly written words of “good luck with today’s trial. you got this, my love! ” is damped with specs of his cum whilst your kiss mark is completely covered in the white substance, dripping onto his black work suit.
his eyes scan towards the clock hung above the doorway. it’s fifteen minutes past his break time and he’s the most indecent he has ever looked at the current moment. he shudders, almost being overtaking by embarrassment.
Hiromi knew how difficult it must be for you to be carrying a child — he had done his research the same night you shakily handed him the positive test, biting your lip in anticipation. That same night he had already fallen down a rabbit hole of pregnancy symptoms, prenatal care, mood swings, the whole nine yards. His approach to your pregnancy was similar to how he handled his court cases, dedication and education.
He was prepared for the nausea, the swelling, even the insane mood swings that were bound to smack him in the face.
What Hiromi wasn't prepared for? Being awoken every night because you suddenly craved the most outrageous combination of food.
The first couple of times it was tame, asking him to grab you some mochi from the kitchen at eleven, maybe even a request to make a fruit salad just before he got into bed. Then it got weirder, like the time you woke him up at one in the morning so he could make you ramen with strawberries on top, or when you asked for whipped cream and pickles at 3AM.
Now, for the third time this week, Hiromi felt your hands nudge his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. “Romi,” your voice was soft, almost inaudible through the thick night. Almost. “Romi, baby…”
He let out a tired groan, shifting slightly in his half-conscious state. “Can you run to the store to buy some honey? We ran out and I really want to have some with grapes.” He made another sleepy grumble, cracking an eye open to peer at the digital clock on the side table.
4:07AM.
A long groan left his lips, arm flopping dramatically over his face in an attempt to hide from your pleading eyes even in the dark. “Honey,” his voice came out hoarse, coated in exhaustion, “I’m tired.”
The second those words left his mouth Hiromi knew he fucked up.
Silence engulfed the room for what felt like an eternity, he swiftly sat up, searching the dark room for your face. As his eyes adjusted he found your own, wide and glassy with tears that threatened to spill.
“Oh…” You whispered, lips quivering as you held back your tears.
Hiromi felt his heart drop to his ass. “N-No, no, don't —” but he was too late. “You don't have to go,” your voice wavered as you turned away from him and settled under the covers again. “Im sorry, I’m being annoying.”
He felt his stomach clench at your words, “Honey —”
“I didn't mean to disturb you...” you trailed off, curling inwards underneath the blanket.
Then he heard it, the sound that every husband fears.
Your sniffling.
His eyes widened, fear taking over every nerve as his hands searched for yours amid the pillows and covers. “Hey, why are you crying?” You sniffled again, trying to wriggle away as he approached you.
You hiccuped, “You hate me.” Hiromi sighed, moving closer so he could wrap his arms around you, “I absolutely do not hate you.”
“But you sounded mad.”
He chucked at your words, one hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “I sounded asleep.”
You let out a small giggle at his words, wiping your eyes. “You know, Romi, pregnancy cravings are scientifically proven to be emotionally distressing.” He smiled at you, nose brushing against your temple, “Did you finally read all those articles I've been sending you?”
“Maybe…” you murmured before nuzzling closer into his chest. Hiromi leaned over, lips brushing your own. Even with tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes he still believed that you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Hiromi sighed again, “You are carrying my child — our child, you could wake me up at five in the morning and ask me to travel across Japan for deep-fried butter and I would still go for you.”
You smiled despite yourself, “Really?”
“Although, I would complain the entire time.”
You beamed up at him. He swears the room lit up because of how bright your eyes were. “Does that mean you'll get me the honey?” With one last sigh, Hiromi pushed himself out of bed. “Ice cream too?” You nodded enthusiastically, “Make sure it’s the big tub.”
He just rolled his eyes, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Will you let me sleep once I’m home?”
ᢉ𐭩 fem!reader, early mornings with hiromi on work days
it’s early when the alarm blares.
too early.
the sun shines through the curtains of your and hiromi’s bedroom, and it highlights your peacefully sleeping body wrapped in his safe arms.
hiromi studies your calm face, somehow not woken up with the noisy alarm yet, but he doesn’t complain.
he reaches out to the nightstand on his side of the bed and turns off the alarm with a stretch, then wraps his arms around you again.
a soft huff escapes your lips as your eyebrows furrow, causing him to chuckle. your body pushes back into his, and he gently brings one of his hands down to rub the soft skin of your hip.
he’s never in a rush like this. it’s a little over an hour before when he’s supposed to head to work, but he likes spending his mornings with you.
and he’ll never admit it, but he sets his alarm around twenty minutes earlier than when he needs to get out of bed so he can watch you. he doesn’t think it’ll sound creepy to you, but it’s a bit embarrassing, although everyone knows he’s smitten with you.
so when you mumble and shuffle around, he places a soft kiss on your temple to try and soothe you, maybe to keep you from waking so early.
but you stretch out your limbs with a dramatic sigh and turn around, then cuddle up to him in a search for more warmth.
“morning,” you mumble as you fist his shirt, then throw a leg over his to pull him closer.
“morning, darling,” he murmurs while kissing your forehead, rubbing the nape of your neck.
for a moment, you breathe in sync before you ask, “when did you come home? i didn’t hear you come in.”
he stays silent for a moment before he replies, “around ten, i believe. maybe ten-thirty, i was the one to close up the firm.”
“hiromi..” you mumble worriedly. he’s been staying at work longer and longer, and you know it’s eating up at him. it’s tiring, he has bags under his eyes. it’s obvious he’s exhausted.
but you know his morals. he strives to help people, even if it means he can’t help himself.
a soft sigh escapes him, and you quietly ask, “it’s not time yet, is it?”
he peeks over his shoulder to look at the clock. it’s almost time for him to get up.
but with you like this, staring up at him while your cheek is pressed against his chest, and your bodies are tangled together, he can’t. he can’t leave yet.
