#higuruma hiromi x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teatreeoilll · 3 months

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𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲 (𝗛𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗫 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿)

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w/c - 2.6k content - MDNI! 18 +, fem!reader, porn with plot, asking a man in a suit to not take it off when he fucks you, not proofread because it's so late rn, hope I'll get to it tomorrow

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When Higuruma Hiromi finished climbing up the stairs, moving slowly and sighing until he finally reached his apartment, the walls around the floor were already rhythmically humming.

"Fucking hell," It took every single ounce of strength in his body to turn away from his own door and turn to knock on the neighbors'.

Goddamn it, not him again, you think as you unlock the door, wincing at the passing thought of ever finding the grumpy, tired man waiting outside of your apartment in any way attractive.

"Yes?" You utter, cross-armed with a fake smile glazing your lips.

He stares into the space behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes, "I'm sorry to bother you," you should be sorry for bothering me, "I know we've had this discussion before," about a million goddamn times, "but if you wouldn't mind," before I go insane, "turning down the music?"

"Listen," you drawl, mimicking his calm tone through gritted teeth, "we talked this through already. It's still early, and it's not against the law to listen to music at a reasonable volume in my own apartment."

Higuruma's eye twitched at the words, still trying to retain a neutral expression. The law? You're bringing up the law? Now, Higuruma Hiromi didn't consider himself a proud man, but the next words to come out of his mouth made his self-respect plummet, "I'm sorry, it's just that ever since my wife died, I've been having trouble sleeping."

You blink slowly, your arms dropping to the sides of your body, "O-oh," you babbled, "I'm so sorry, I didn't - I - " the heat rises to your cheeks, "I'm so sorry, uh, I didn't catch your name - "

"Higuruma Hiromi," he adds.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Hiromi; I'll turn it down."

That evening, Hiromi sinks on the sofa like he's carried by angel's wings, relishing in the serene, tranquil, long-awaited silence. But something itches at the back of his mind; he spent too many days in court to know that a lie will always come back to bite.

"Shit," you hiss as your groceries hitting the building's floor, apples rolling on the tiles beneath you. "Stupid apples," you grumble as you stoop down, desperately trying to stuff them into your overflowing bag.

"Do you need help?" A voice behind you asks.

"It's fine," you breathe, catching another rolling apple in your hand, "I'm just here, uh, cussing at the fruit."

"I can see that," and Hiromi crouches down to help you, the fabric of his suit rustling as his pale fingers help you pick up the things off the floor.

You unlock your door, pushing it in with your shoulder, and your neighbor follows suit into your apartment.

"Where do I - " Hiromi stands at the entrance, his arms packed with your shopping.

"Oh - uh, " you walk to the kitchen counter, "right here is fine," you fix your gaze on the man unloading your shopping, a strand of hair falling on his forehead as he does. "Thank you."

After he finished, his eyes turn to find yours, and you're not quite sure why you're staring or at what, with your gaze rolling from his suit to his dark eyes, but you manage to conclude that, strangely enough, it's not unnatural to see him standing in your kitchen.

A long moment of silence graces the room before he finally utters, "It's nothing."

You thank him three more times while he exits your apartment, and he brushes off each one. It's only after he leaves that you notice the rapid pace of your heart, and you walk to the mirror to look at your face, standing before it for a moment, wondering how long it has been since you've turned this deep shade of crimson.

Oh god, you're so nice.

"I've brought them up for you, I hope you don't mind," you smile at your neighbor, bent over in your too-tight lounge shorts to put a stack of letters near his door, "they just seemed to be piling up."

"You really didn't have to," He mutters, crouching to meet you at the bottom of his door, gathering the letters in his hands.

But you just kept the smile on your face, so soft and considerate the pangs of guilt overturned his stomach. "Oh, and - uh," is my face growing red? "I - I baked some cookies, I mean," you falter, "I mean, I baked too many cookies. Would you like some?"

Maybe he is attractive, your neighbor, with his soft and tired dark eyes; or maybe it's the depth of sorrow you thought resided in them that made the need to help him grow.

It would be rude to decline, wouldn't it? "S-sure," he says - But it's immoral to agree, and the thought fades at the scent of fresh baked goods from your apartment already filling the hallway.

You don't mean to be rude when you walk through his door, setting a small plate of glazed lemon cookies on his old coffee table, your gaze darting to the pile of records on the shelf in the corner, "So, you do like music," you chuckle, eyes fluttering over the names on the covers.

"I do," he admits, the soft lemon cookie melting on his tongue, "But if Sinatra came here and sang while I'm trying to sleep, I don't think I'd like him that much anymore."

You catch his gaze, and your lips twitch for a moment before you burst into laughter. God, he stares at you, thinking you're an almost ethereal sight as you browse his records, perched on his old leather couch, laughing at something he said, with your smile scrunching the corners of your eyes so gracefully he thinks he just might -

"Love?" you ask.

"Yes?"

And you laugh again, "No - I meant, Love." You point at the record sitting on the top of the shelf, "Didn't take you for one to listen to them."

He coughs, a red blush dusting his pale cheeks, "It's a good album."

"It is, I don't think I've ever heard it on vinyl," you say, the palms of your hands grazing your thighs as you lift yourself up from the sofa, "Well, I think I better be off - "

"Would you like to?" He asks.

"Sure."

As you sit there, listening to the soft flamenco-style guitar flowing from the record player, it takes everything from Hiromi to calm the urge to touch you or at least hold your hand, fuck, he'd settle for a brush of your fingers against his own. Tackling these urges, blatantly ignoring the music, his mind replays the same old words he'd read countless times, a thing he usually does when he's trying to take his mind off something; - One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house on Pereoulok S - , and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, towards the K - bridge.* *a/n: the opening line of Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The faint smile you give him as you meet him at the entrance to the building makes the blood rush to his ears.

"Good evening," you say, and Hiromi thinks it really is much better now.

"Good evening," he answers, pointing at the exit, "I'm out to the convenience, do you need anything?"

You shake your head, "Thank you," you say before continuing the path up the stairs.

It's a frantic knock on the door that startles you once you're out of the shower, and you rush to open it, towel still wrapped around your damp hair.

"Yes?" Your gaze meets a young, short-haired woman, a stack of papers barely fitting in the grip of her hands.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I must have gotten the doors mixed up, does Higuruma Hiromi live on this floor?"

You nod, pointing a finger to the door next to yours, "But I just saw him leaving."

"Oh, crap -," the woman mutters, "I'm terribly sorry to ask this, but these are for the trial tomorrow," she lifts the papers up a bit, "would you mind if I leave them with you?"

"Trial?" You inquire, already holding your hands out to take the papers.

"Yes, a boy arrested on suspicion of murder and robbery," she sighs, "he won't let it go."

You hold the stack of papers, "Hiromi's a lawyer?"

The woman chuckles, "Oh, ah - yes."

"He works so hard," you think aloud, "even after what happened to his wife."

The woman's brows furrow, "Wife? Oh god, no, Mr. Higuruma's not married."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing at her words, "Sorry - uhm, has he ever been married?"

She shakes her head, "Well, I'll just leave these with you; I'll call him so he'll pick them up once he returns," she parts with a curt bow.

Loud. Insufferably, overwhelmingly, dreadfully, loud. The music crashes onto the walls, making them buzz so furiously you would have missed the knock on the door if only you weren't already waiting for it.

"Yes?" you scoff at the puzzled lawyer standing at your doorstep.

Hiromi's eyebrows knit together, the music reverberating through the staircase as he asked, "It's a bit loud, don't you think?"

You step away for a moment to find the stack of papers, returning to the doorstep to shove it in his arms, "Why? Will it piss off your imaginary wife?"

Oh, he thinks, and the door slams in his face.

He goes into his apartment and places the papers on the coffee table. He sits down to read them, only to find his eyes skimming over the letters, not quite making any sense of what he's reading with the music playing through the wall and his conscience raging in his mind.

Another knock on the door, and you open it with a huff, "Forgot something?"

Hiromi stands with his arms dangling by the sides of his body, a soft look in his eyes as he mutters, "I'm sorry."

He's just a neighbor, right? A nice one, at that, with a handsome face and kind eyes. Why am I so angry? Why's the music blaring with the intent of ruining his evening? Why's he standing so close -

It's an eternity in your mind, but only a few seconds pass while you think, unconsciously staring directly at his lips. He catches that, of course, he wouldn't get anywhere in court if he wasn't mindful of nuance.

The first thing you feel is his hand grasping at the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close to him. Next, the soft brush of his lips against yours as he breathes, "Is this alright?"

You don't answer; instead, you grasp at his arms through the fabric of his suit, capturing his lips as a fog settles in your mind, a soft hum running from your mouth to his.

His arms wander on your body while you relish in the softness of his lips; they skim across your lower back to come down and hold a firm grip on your ass when his tongue finally darts into your mouth. "Fuck," he pants, pushing you up against the wall, and you only momentarily remember you should probably close the damn door.

"Hm?" he puzzles when you break away from the kiss, watching you gesture towards the door, "I guess you can be considerate towards your neighbors," and he pushes the door, his tongue returning to your mouth before he even hears the closing thud.

It doesn't take long for him to slide his hand from your ass into your pants, long fingers gliding on your lower stomach, dragging the fabric of your underwear to the side as he rubs circles over your clit. "Don't be so quiet," he hums against your lips when he sees you biting back your moans, "Trust me, no one can hear you through this noise."

"Fuck, Hiro - " you gasp at the feeling of his fingers entering your cunt, one look at his glazed-over eyes and you try to desperately press your lips to his again, but he finds the crook of your neck instead, sucking on the skin there, leaving small bruises while his fingers glide in and out of your soaked cunt.

Each graze of his teeth against your neck makes you clench against his fingers, and he feels himself growing unbearably hard at the feeling, the slight friction of his cock rutting against the fabric of his trousers barely enough to give him some relief.

"Shit, sucking my fingers in like that - " he murmurs against your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing the spot that made you whimper, "You close?" And you feel the knot in your stomach come undone at his words, wetness gushing over his fingers as your body quivers.

You let out a choked gasp when he picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Your clothes are discarded by the time you reach the couch, and you're trapped under him, back pressed against the sofa while the fabric of his suit rubs against your naked body.

The jacket of his suit falls to the floor, and his hand reaches to undo his tie, "N-no," you breathe, "Leave it on," you say as your hand works on the zipper of his trousers, pulling them down together with his underwear just low enough for his cock to spring out.

"Dirty," he chuckles against your lips, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You moan at the feeling, pushing your hips down to take in the tip, "I always liked lawyers," you push a hand up to grip his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Did you now?" His muscles tighten as he pushes his cock further into you, rolling his hips to finally bottom out inside you.

"Mhmm," you moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy push against his thrusts, drunk on the soft smell of his cologne lingering in the air.

"Hiro - " you can barely breathe out his name with the feeling of his cock working you open, your hand leaving his hair to grip at his tie dangling from his neck, holding it tightly in your fist.

"God," he groans, chasing his climax with deeper thrusts, "you really do like lawyers," he huffs as your pussy clenches against him, the heat spreading under his skin.

He pulls out, and you whimper at the absence of his cock as he flips you, your head pressed flat against the couch, your ass perked up against his hips. His thrusts feel unbelievably deeper from that angle, his hand reaching to grip mercilessly at your hair to pull your head up.

"Ah - Fuck -," you babble, "Hiro - I - ," your reach a hand to rub your clit, his thrusts a perfect pace to the coiling tension in your stomach, and he anchors his hand on the fat of your ass, fingers digging deeper as he bites back his moans, coming closer to his own release.

"I - Ah -, " and you don't even finish your moan as your back arches, heat coursing through your body as you come, feeling as if you'd collapse if not for his hand holding you up by your hair. His hips stutter, a silent 'fuck' escaping his lips as you feel his seed painting your walls, his thrusts finally slowing down.

He pulls out, releasing the grip on your hair, and you turn a flushed gaze towards him, a dazed smile glazing your lips. He adjusts himself back in his trousers, his eyes falling on the speakers on your table, still ruthlessly blasting music.

"Is this the..?" He motions towards the speakers, and you nod.

He gets up, his hand twisting the volume knob until the white mark on it touches zero. The room grows silent.

Finally, he thinks.

1K notes · View notes

bas-writes · 4 months

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Neighboring Whispers

Character: Higuruma Hiromi Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit nsfw content, pre-relationship, neighbors next door, attraction at the first sight, mutual pinning, hair fetish, hair pulling, blowjob, fingers in mouth, spitting in mouth, praise kink & pet names (good girl and variations), fingering & vaginal sex, spanking, creampie, reader has long, non-curly hair and tattoos (yes, it's plot relevant) Word Count: 9k Synopsis: By a pressing accident you were left without water in your apartment, and you were forced to beg your neighbor, Higuruma, for letting you to take a shower in his bathroom. Dazed after a sleepless night, he obliged to your request. The consequences of his spontaneous decision had been haunting him ever since... A/N: little birds chirped @lale-txt wanted a sexy lawyer under her christmas tree and since we were already doing a server exchange... ;) merry a little late christmas, Lale, I hope you will enjoy this absolute monster of a one shot! ❤

The first ring was like an irritating fly, bouncing off the walls of his exhausted concentration, its dull buzzing drilling into his ears.

The second jolted him from head to toes, the first move in a prominently long time, aching and tingling in stiff joints and drowsy muscles.

The third finally made him peel eyes off the screen, his sight blurry and invisible sand grazing under his eyelids.

Higuruma hid face behind the soothing shadow of his hands, plastered tight to his skin, and groaned, almost cursed. He was tired, so deadly tired he would swore he could feel the dark circles under his eyes. The dizziness was comparable to one after an unsuccessful power nap—yet, he knew he wasn't asleep even for a second. He couldn't, not when at work, at that damned work he swore he would touch only for an hour, two at the absolute maximum, and then go to bed, to finally grab proper rest for the rare free day to come.

For how long was he stuck by the kitchen table, the place he had chosen to avoid the focus? Higuruma feared to peel hands off his eyes, but he still did so. The light, sipping through wide open blinds, was already bright and dazzling. The microwave clock was even more merciless: it showed a few minutes past eight.

Fuck.

The fourth ring was the longest, desperate and inappropriate for such an early hour. Under other circumstances Higuruma wouldn't welcome the intruder with open arms but at that moment he felt somewhat grateful for snapping him out of trance.

"Coming." He announced, more to himself than to the person behind the door. Legs bent and swayed under him at first, he had to lean against the table for a moment, cursing his workaholism and age, but he forced himself to stand straight, then to walk. By the time he reached the door he was almost back to state befitting a man in his thirties, not a senior he got turned into by a sleepless, work-full night.

Higuruma didn't look through the peephole first, just opened, catching you already turning back. A whirl of long hair caught his attention faster than your face, not that it helped him much when he finally met it with his exhausted—yet still attentive—gaze. He could roughly pinpoint it as familiar but couldn't bring any name nor other particularly useful information to it.

He knew you lived on the same floor. He knew you were often doing groceries in the same shop as him. He knew you both were sometimes taking the same train in the morning—but he had never caught which was your stop.

That's all.

"How can I help you, miss—" Higuruma's voice faltered; he was still trying to squeeze your name out of his memory, but his focus was already taking a different direction. There was something eerie about you, something concerning not as a danger for him but as a sign something must had happened, to you or to the whole surrounding. He wouldn't put it past himself to miss an emergency; when he was working, he could have easily overlooked a whole apocalypse.

You were a mess. Possibly worse than his own. Uncombed hair, falling over your shoulders in tangled strands, greasy face, visibly home-only oversized tracksuit, blowzily thrown over your shoulders, a tote bag, overfull, squeezed tight to your chest… He wasn't a detective, but he could easily tell you left your place in a hurry.

"Y/N." You relieved Higuruma of his main concern. "I live at number 33."

You took a sharp turn, nodding to your door, but Higuruma's eyes barely followed, yet again swallowed by the sheer waterfall of your hair.

"Alright, this is gonna be…awkward." You took a deep breath, as if adding yourself power to wade through whatever pressed on your soul. "Please. I beg. I need a shower."

"Pardon?" Higuruma almost choked on breath, shocked less by the sudden request, just rapidly pulled out of chaotic thoughts buzzing at the back of his head. Thoughts full of your hair and its flow, the suffocating and entrancing vortex.

"I have no water." You nearly sobbed. "There's a renovation up there, I forgot… The whole plumb line is turned off on my side. I don't know when— Fuck, I have a meeting in three hours. I don't have time to run to a bathhouse, even if they would let me in…"

He must have made an exceptionally stupid expression because you stumbled out of your panicked trance and hurried to explain what he hadn't even deemed as needing any explanation. Hugging the tote with one arm, you rolled the sleeve of the other and revealed a tattoo running up the forearm towards the elbow.

He nodded with understanding.

"Please, sir, no one else answers the door…" Your gaze flicked at him with such pleading that his already crumbling resolve immediately backed off, leaving him unarmed against you and your illegally beautiful hair. "I'll pay for the—"

"I charge only for legal advice, shower is a free service." Higuruma tried to squeeze a joke out of himself but with his exhausted expression he could as well recite a random sentence out of the case he was chewing through for the whole night. "First door to the left. Ah, and sorry for the…mess."

It was a massive overestimation, he realized a few of your steps into his apartment too late. His place needed a thorough tidying like fresh water. It wasn't dirty, at least that—but everything screamed "single, overworked, and too done to bother" at anyone who paid a minimum of attention. Dust, empty mugs and beer cans, takeout boxes piled into a temporary dumpster, any flat surface littered with books, files, loose notes, newspapers… Hey, he wasn't that bad usually, but you caught him in the worst moment, right before the day booked for being a responsible adult

Hell, he should have at the very least do something about his bathroom before he let you in. But you pounced at the door faster than his thought and he had to chew on his shame with the noise of his own shower filling the awkward silence around him.

When was the last time someone barged into his life like this? The last relationship Higuruma could call a serious one had lasted before he finished his apprenticeship. With time slipping through his hands and wallet filling with money he had eventually stopped inviting his flings to his place. And in the past few years he had extinguished even this fragile flame that kept pushing him into love hotels with equally tired participants of seminars, coworkers, and random lays he had stumbled upon in bars and never bothered to remember their names.

He couldn't see nor hear you, nothing over the hum of water, and yet, your presence was mercilessly crawling under his skin. He felt your breath at the back of his neck as he was tidying the space around in hurry. Maybe it wouldn't have been so palpable if you were a man… But a woman in his kingdom of the mid-thirty loneliness? Something about this fact cut a good half on his year count—and not to his advantage. He never pegged himself as shy nor crude to be bothered by a fact of a woman simply existing in his proximity, but…

It had been long, too long. And you were exactly in his type.

Exhaustion played a huge role at that, he was sure of it. Exhaustion paired with neglected libido and long-forgotten fetish perking their traitorous heads up at the slightest trace of your presence. You dropped something and shivers ran up his spine so hard he almost dropped his laptop too. A faint smell of fruity cosmetics reached his nose, and he couldn't remember anymore where he should put the papers he held. The hum of the shower finally stilled, and panic bubbled under his skin, cutting him short on sight and breath for a split second—split but long enough to mess with his balance.

You caught him like this, still bent over the table, at first glance nonchalantly checking something on the phone, in fact—fighting for the last scrap of dignity left in him.

Higuruma observed you with the corner of his eye, tense like a string. It was easier to look at you now, with your hair meticulously tucked under a towel tied around your head, so he took that risk. Little did it help. The sight of you casually standing in the middle of his apartment, bare feet, damp shirt plastered to your sides, churned his insides with yearning that had nothing to do with lewd ideas.

Yes, it definitely had been too long since he was touched with this level of intimacy.

"Sorry for the mess," he repeated himself, his voice feeling dry at his throat.

Your laughter suited the sharp yet sweet scent of your shower gel, filling his apartment for hours to come, "I won't look a gift shower in the plumbing. Thank you, mister—"

"Higuruma," he quickly cut in before awkwardness managed to drag you into his misery.

"Higuruma," you repeated, mimicking his accent almost to perfection.

He loved the way his last name rolled on your tongue. He loved it so much he had to turn away for a moment and bite on his own. Thoughts dancing in his head pressed too much to his lips. But he wasn't that much of a creep to let them do as they please. Just the fact they existed was putting him into embarrassment.

Did you notice? Most likely not, too busy balancing on one foot to pull a sock, then shoe, on the other. With a tote tugged under your armpit and in a hurry, you clearly struggled, but Higuruma didn't move from his place, mindful of his sins and the situation overall. If you needed help, you would ask, until then it would be better, if he kept this distance.

"I know you said no money but any chance I could return a favor in any other way?" You pulled him instead into conversation, much to the panic of his tongue, tying into clumsy knots at the slightest thought of speaking.

"It's nothing." Higuruma let the dream scenario fly over his head. He wasn't sure if you were flirting or just hated the idea of being in debt and in front of uncertainty, he preferred to stand his stubborn ground.

"You let a stranger use your shower." You didn't give up. You had the ball and you insisted on rolling it despite hurry pressing at your back, it seemed.

"My impossibly cluttered shower." Years in court made him more patient than a saint, even in front of a person crumbling his resolve into dust with a single flick of eyelashes. "I'd feel bad if I asked for something in exchange for such conditions."

"And what about me? I already feel bad for cluttering your space with myself."

"If I ever find myself without water, I'll know where to go."

You rolled your eyes and laughed again, your voice sharper this time. Higuruma wasn't especially sensitive with sounds but the change of yours immediately caught his attention and craved itself into his memory.

Oh, it was bad.

Dumbfounded, he didn't react when you pounced towards his abandoned workplace and snatched a piece of paper and a pen.

"I don't have much time left so—" You scribbled fast, digging deep into the surface, and yet clear enough for him to read with ease. "I'm a regular here. Come anytime and tell them Y/N sent you. The lunch is on me."

If not for the paper on the table and scent you left all over the apartment, Higuruma would classify you as a fever dream of an all-nighter the moment you sprinted out, apologizing and saying goodbyes all at the same time. He followed almost blindly, ready to shut the door as soon as you crossed the threshold (and cut you out before any weird new thought would haunt him). He already planned to air the whole place and scrub the bathroom out of your presence

He would, no hesitation, return to his cozy loneliness if not for a draft finally crushing the fragile construction on top of your head. Cascade of hair tore the knot apart, the towel slid down your shoulders straight into his hand as he reached for it without thinking twice and before it managed to untangle fully from the wet strands. They brushed his fingers, for a split time he felt their soft texture and weight, and his heart throbbed so hard he lost a good ounce of breath right there, over the threshold.

"Sorry and thank you! Take care, Higuruma!" The door of your apartment clicked closed before the echo of your voice disappeared. He stood there even longer, pulse beating in his ears like a drum and his cheeks burning. It felt like hours before he finally forced himself back into his place, barricaded into illusive safety, hand pressed tight to his face, to muffle a loud groan.

His skin was still slightly wet and smelled of your shampoo.

Oh, he was so done for.

He should have trashed that note.

It glared at him right from where you had left it. Higuruma hadn't dared to move it any way, himself not sure why, but instead of blending into the environment, as he was hoping, it stood out like a huge, bloody stain of shame. A reminder of what he had been praying for to be just a dream born out of exhaustion and sleepless night.

He was doing his best to not look at it. It attracted his eyes like a magnet.

In no time he knew the name and address by heart. His excellent memory, so helpful in his career, became his curse. One look in note's direction and his mind was already mapping the route. Of course, it had to be conveniently located, in the area he knew well, relatively close to his workplace, in distance perfect for a lunch break.

If only he trashed this piece of damned paper!

Maybe then his mind wouldn't be plagued with ideas and temptation. Maybe he wouldn't have to sneak in and out of his own apartment like a thief, jerking at the slightest sound behind his back. He was leaving earlier, returning later, changing routes and shopping in a different 7-Eleven. Everything to not run into you—just to return to your scent still somehow lingering in the air.

Higuruma was ready to swear you had somehow cursed him. Was it humanly possible to influence his life with only showering in his bathroom? The sharp and fruity scent grew stronger near the cabin, shaped in his mind like a vortex of your hair. Warm water falling on his head felt like your laughter, droplets traced down his chest and stomach like signs you wrote on the note, elegant and pronounced.

Your name tasted sweet and heavy on his tongue. Higuruma didn't dare to say it aloud, but it lingered, a sweet aftertaste of a candy he couldn't bring himself to ask for. He still tried to weigh it, right at the tip of his tongue, slick as a feel of your wet hair slipping through his fingertips.

Only once, he tried to put it into life, but it barely danced at the edge of his teeth and died with a miserable groan as he couldn't hold himself back any longer and spent the rest of his morning shower on furiously fucking his fist.

He should have trashed— No, burnt this note and thrown the ashes in the wind.

By the time his legs finally carried him, still against his will, to the address, Higuruma had already abandoned the idea of avoiding the problem. He wasn't quite there with an ultimate decision, but the desperation reached the level where he had to simmer it down. Giving in to temptation of seeing you again was only a reasonable decision; with some luck he would not find you there and, with a now clean conscience, he would finally get rid of the paper of shame.

Seeing the signboard took him aback. Higuruma didn't ponder over the location to expect anything, but he still froze in place, hand clenched stupid at the handle as he took a step back to look at the name again.

It sounded like one of those modern, instagram-catered places for a quick lunch in a break from rushing through the city. It was nowhere close to what, in fact, the place was: a cat cafe, in its whole camp and overfly fluffy glory.

Higuruma looked at the signboard, then took a peek through the window again. A fat tabby cat, loafing on a table by the sill, peeked back at him and slowly blinked. He took it as an order.

One deeper breath later he finally entered. Right by the threshold he was attacked by the suffocating, sweet scent, dangerously reminding him of the cosmetics you used in his bathroom. Panic roared at the back of his head but before he could listen and withdraw, he grabbed eye contact with a barista who had perked her head over the coffee machine.

"Good afternoon, sir." She smiled at him, as full of enthusiasm as professionalism allowed. "A table in a regular room or in a cat—"

"I have received a capias issued for a certain gentleman I found resting in your property." He said dryly, maybe a little too much as the woman's friendly expression tensed into a mix of stress and confusion. "Just joking. I'm not arresting anyone. I had this place recommended by an acquaintance of mine."

When he said your name, she immediately smiled (not without a breath of relief, he noticed) and dropped the mask of a perfect employee. He was stared at curiously now, from the tips of leather shoes to neatly composed hairstyle. Oh, he definitely was the main subject of workplace gossip—and would jump back into fashion once he left this place, no doubt in this matter.

"My apologies, sir, Y/N mentioned you would show up but hasn't notified us when." She flashed him with a genuine smile. "You're in luck, she's stopped for a lunch today, she's in the cat room right now. Shall I—"

"I'll find my way." Higuruma quickly cut in. He wouldn't mind adding spice to the gossip, even if just to ease his own stress, but…somehow, the thought of being observed during an inevitably awkward moment churned his stomach in a very not good way. "I would like—"

He studied the menu at the blackboard. Most of the names reminded him of absolutely nothing. "Something… decadent and viral, how kids call it. Surprise me, please."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"No, thank you."

He was ordered to strip from his jacket and scarf and asked to keep his briefcase as close as possible. Barista took her sweet time to study him as she walked him to the cat room, on her way explaining in detail what was allowed and what not. Higuruma let the words fly over his head: he had no interest in tormenting poor animals (who and for what would want to pull them by their tails?), but even if he had, his plans would be undeniably ruined by your presence. He already felt his throat clenching—not in fear or panic but in the same kind of embarrassment he felt whenever his thoughts about you slipped into the direction, he'd been avoiding at all costs. All of his thoughts were decent at that moment, yet he was tense and flushed regardless. Something, from the depths of his intuition, was whispering that, no matter what he does and says, he would reveal everything that happened, in his mind and not, since the day he had seen you barefoot and with wet hair in the middle of his apartment.

It would straight up make him come across as a creep.

He didn't want to come across as a creep.

"And no apprehensions." Barista finished her lecture with a smooth joke and pulled at the door to the cat paradise.

The main part of the cafe was calm—but the cat room was even calmer and silent, no music, none of the steady hum of working machines. It was almost empty too but a small group of teenage girls, flocking around the table by a huge cat tree, and you, of course, in a cozy corner, leaning over a book. Higuruma's heart almost flipped in his chest at the sight and fluttered just harder and faster when you pulled a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The move was slow, smooth and so sensual one would think you were doing it deliberately.

But you were lost in thought, unaware of your surroundings and Higuruma's gaze taking in the view voraciously, straight up swallowing every inch of yours. From your face, beautiful in your calm focus, to the tips of your fingers, still tangled in the strands behind your ear—and down your back, together with the flow of loosely tied hair.

His mouth was dry and full of saliva at the same time. A smooth starter he had prepared in a case of wonderfully bad luck just died, leaving him with tight, uncomfortable silence and head empty of thoughts, full just of the feel of the same hair against his hand.

He hoped too that seeing you in a more presentable state would crush the intimate, inappropriate for your level of familiarity, appearance of yours he had coded. And eventually relieve him of the yearning that had nothing and everything to do with sex, all at once.

Fool, idiot, a hundred times a naive kid. Seeing you like this only made everything worse.

"Y/N! Your neighbor with a sexy nose is finally here." The barista chirped over his shoulder and bolted before neither of you both could react.

If the block in his throat was difficult to swallow before, now Higuruma could as well just suffocate and die on point.

"Higuruma!" You tried to feign a cheerful attitude, but flustered expression and sudden flap of both hands betrayed you. One of them was still tangled in your hair; you yanked it free from the ponytail and sent your ornate hair clip flying. It fell right by his feet with a little metallic thud.

"You seem to lose your head at my sight." Higuruma saw the opportunity to avoid your gaze and snatched it so fast he almost hit his head against the table. "Or I should rather say: things from your head."

His hand trembled under the weight of the little trinket. It seemed alright except for three zirconias that fell out straight into his palm, "Towel at least took it better."

You muttered a simple thanks and took the hair clip before he climbed up from his knee. Your hands met for a split moment and a sharp shock snapped up and down Higuruma's spine.

He hoped he managed to feign his calm better than you.

The silence that followed was heavy but not awkward for a change. Higuruma found himself a new excuse to look away, subtle and polite, just right to give you space for collecting thoughts: the decor of the cat room was truly entertaining to observe. Higuruma never had a cat; he was very pleased to notice that the furniture he took at first for clutter was in fact a developed playground. Little creatures, intrigued or concerned by the noise, moved from their spots. Shelves, ottomans and line bridges fluttered with elegant steps and soft tapping of little paws.

Even the fat tabby turned its head and gave Higuruma a look full of pity.

"It doesn't click right," you finally broke the much needed pause, pulling his attention back to you. "Oh well. I really liked it."

"It is a pity." He agreed, somehow keeping voice in check. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly screech at you. Fate knows how much his throat tried to, though. "It really suited your hair."

He didn't get a good look at it but after so many thoughts recalling your hair in detail, Higuruma could easily imagine it from every angle. His cheeks filled with traitorous, familiar heat. At least he wasn't prone to blushing.

By the gleam in your eyes, he could tell you were about to pick up the flirting, but you were interrupted by the barista. Looks were exchanged over his head, a slight tick at the corner of your lips betrayed their nature, but his attention was instead pulled by a piece of latte art put in front of him.

They really took his request to their hearts. Milk foam on top of his coffee was piled into a chubby cat face. They went as far as adding eyes, nose, whiskers and a little cunning smile. Three stripes at the top of its head must have been made with coffee as a paint. He had to admit the dedication to detail was truly endearing.

"Oh. That's surprising." You hummed, more to yourself, but continued louder prompted by his furrowing eyebrows. "You don't look like someone who would order a cute latte."

"Oh? And how do I look?"

"Black coffee. No sugar."

"I like it very sweet, actually." Higuruma finally felt more at ease, tension melting down his shoulders so visibly he could swear it was happening literally. "With a dash of milk."

The first few sentences were always the worst, in law and flirting alike. Once he got a good grip of the situation, he could finally focus on the exchange only. You were a cunning conversation partner, fast to catch his jokes, smooth to follow the thread and bounce the ball back at him. You had quite a gamut of shared topics and he just kept growing more interested—no, fascinated.

Your mind and soul were fitting his type even more accurate than your appearance.

And yet, Higuruma's thoughts kept bouncing back to the fateful morning, to the perfection of your body in its messy glory. He couldn't help but to compare all the time. A strip of your tattoo peeked from under your sleeve—and he knew how far it, in fact, reached. A contour of your bra was visible under your shirt—in almost the same place where wet spots had pressed since you had dried yourself in a rush. Your hair fell smooth over your shoulders, in heavy strands he was dying for to caress—because he remembered the sensation of their ends touching his skin.

Over and over again, his flesh was taking over his mind. And it was…infuriating.

When something touched his calf, Higuruma nearly jolted. He managed to forget a little how tense he still was, illusion destroyed fast by a friendly tail, wrapping around his leg.

The indifferent stare and chunky posture were already familiar.

"Oh, someone likes you." You cooed with a bright smile. "It's rare for Haru to come to a new client."

"She's being picky?" The lawyer leaned down, let the curious cat sniff his fingers before he gently caressed its head.

"He. He's a little fussy diva. Wait, maybe I'll encourage him a little—"

You leaned to the side and behind to reach for a toy, move quite fast, and your hair repeated the vortex he had seen even before he had taken a look at your face. The almost painful churning in Higuruma's stomach rushed dangerously low; he coughed into fist to give a reason for leaning forwards. Haru snapped his head back at the noise, but instead of running away he leaped into the lawyer's lap, fitting tight the space between his torso and thighs. And successfully hiding the area that could become problematic at any moment.

"Thanks, buddy," Higuruma whispered and scratched him behind the ear.

"He really likes you." You laughed, by no means offended for your sneaky plan to fail before it had started. "You're so natural with cats."

"It's only one of my talents." He flicked his gaze at you, his hand resting full on the cat's head, deliberately swept along the line of its spine. "Been always told I'm good with my hands."

The risk was exceptionally calculated, even for him. But it paid off with sparks of interest flickering in your eyes and fast, so easy to miss, bite at the side of your bottom lip.

The note had been replaced by a hair clip.

Higuruma hadn't even thought twice when he had sprinted out of work straight to a jeweler. His mind and soul had been in a different place, entranced by your number freshly saved on his phone, and hadn't perked up even at the significant amount of money he had spent on a golden clip.

The coincidence had been too good to be just a wink of fate: the design was almost identical to your old one.

Complications had appeared after he had come back and grabbed much deserved sleep. Fresh brain had pushed the old scruples back to the surface, and the would-be gift had ended on the kitchen table, leering at Higuruma as he was sneaking by, in shame and trying to look away.

Since the cat cafe date, you had met at least five times. All meetings had been rather non-committal and platonic, and the closest he got to fulfilling his fantasies had been a gentle kiss on his cheek he had earned after a movie. Yet, Higuruma knew there was a prominent spark of interest on your side. So far you had answered all of his advances with eagerness if not straight forward had been playing with him as if he was a cat on the other end of a teasing wand.

He was still feeling ashamed of himself but didn't intend to let such an opportunity slip through his hands. All he needed was that last step…but he couldn't quite grow spine to finally make it.

So the hair clip kept glaring at him, and he kept ignoring it, as much as he could at least before he was caving in to all those temptations leading him to late night shower fantasies.

By the time he heard you ringing to his door he even managed to forget about it a little. Well, he was deep in work again, his mind finally free of all red-hot thoughts and quandaries—until said sound pierced him like a stray bullet. He knew immediately it was you; he couldn't explain why and how but he knew. The rush of blood thudding in his ears for once had nothing to do with anxiety—this time it was a genuine excitement, hope even, if he dared to somewhat name the vortex of his thoughts. This was but just a little change; it meant nothing for heat building in his cheek nor for trembling of hands he barely tamed on his way to the door.

Before he opened, he had to take a deep, hopefully calming breath.

"This is gonna be awkward again." You admitted with a shy smile. "There's no heating at my place. And no warm water. "

Your appearance was a stunning middle ground between the scrupulously crafted look you donned for your little dates and the casual home-only mess Higuruma had learnt the day you got to talk for the first time. You were still dressed neatly but disarray had already sneaked with crumpled fabric, rolled up sleeves and the mess of your hair, barely tamed with a hair band.

A loose strand fell out of it, and you tugged it behind your ear, with the same smooth, sensual move he had learnt by heart. Higuruma swallowed, a bit too audibly for his comfort.

"I can offer warm tea and warm company," he moved to the side and gestured towards the apartment. At least this time the mess was more tamed; since he had been caught red-handed, he paid more attention to the state of his surroundings.

It couldn't possibly be a more obvious excuse, but Higuruma's thoughts were speeding too fast to do something more than taking a mental note. He intended to guide you towards the living room, but you took your guest rights to the fullest and chose a seat by the table in the kitchen from where you were piercing him with a curious gaze. In a calmer state Higuruma would pay more attention and take note how strategic your move was—but he was too busy masking his stress by preparing the tea and snacks. Before the doorbell, at least a shadow of the hair clip had existed at the back of his head. Now the whole trace was gone, replaced by all his dreams and worries packed into a single vortex of inner and somewhat controlled panic.

Why was he so nervous? He had no reason to delve into his thoughts anymore. All that was left was one of you finally tugging the rope to their side. You were right there, behind his back, twisting a strand of your hair around your finger, legs crossed just right to roll your dress up your thighs a little. Part of him was itching to turn and pull you into his arms, to bury his face into the back of your neck, to trace your tattoos and check how far they really reach. The other kept spraying the horny demon in him with cold water—and by far winning at that time.

If only you gave him a little more prominent sign…

"A hair clip?" As if reading his mind, you sprung forwards. "It looks like mine… Where did you get it?"

Higuruma almost dropped the cups with tea.

"Oh. That." He had never been blessed his experience with stress-taming than he did now. He needed only a single breath to look presentable again. "Well… Now it's my turn at the awkward merry-go-round. Was supposed to be a gift."

He set your cup in front of you, his hand almost free of trembling. Your gaze grazed over it for a second before it flicked back to the accessory, by "chance" placed right within your sight but out of reach, "Gift?"

"Replacement for the one I broke." Higuruma had no choice but to grab it himself and offer it to you on open palm. "I plead guilty and have already paid a fine."

You said nothing but he could read from your face his choice was simply perfect. You gently traced its edge, almost took it, but at the last time you withdrew, your eyes full of sultry gleam. "Thank you. It's so pretty. But you shouldn't have—"

"Oh, I should. And I loved it." Higuruma already knew where it was going. He felt sweat pearling at his temples, a single droplet traced down the side of his face. "It's but a pleasure to offer beautiful things to a beautiful woman."

You traced the clip again, with more prominent pressure this time, such a perfectly feigned hesitation.

"Then…" Your gaze wandered up and locked with his. "Would you like to clip it in?"

Higuruma's knees nearly gave up under him when you, no longer waiting for his answer, let your hair flow free. With a single shake of your head, you spilled it all over your shoulders for him to gather it again, smile dancing at the corners of your lips a shameless proof you knew exactly what you were doing.

Were his thoughts that obvious? Were his sinful dreams written all over his face? Was he being pulled into a trap from the very beginning?

As if entranced, Higuruma approached you from behind. Even with explicit permission he was more than gentle when he caressed your hair from the crown of your head to its tips. It was smooth like velvet, far more than he had imagined it to be after the brief contact.

The flame inside him churned and roared, pulse thudding in his ears muffled down all the other sounds. Hands shaking, he started gathering your hair to the back, into a single, thick thread he tried to hold firmly for the clip. He feared to tug too much; if he slipped once, he knew he wouldn't stop, the loose yet so heavy knot around his fingers just waiting to be tightened.

In the wildest fantasies flowing through his dreams Higuruma hadn't considered it to feel so good, almost too good to be real.

He couldn't hold it for longer, he let go, watched your hair spill again in awe, his throat dry and clenched. Threading fingers through it, he reached deeper, brushing at your scalp, and noting, pleased, a low, purr-like sound you made. Entrancing smoothness pulled him yet again, though, and he combed the strands to their tips, and returned to the crown of your head, over and over and one more time, and more—

"You don't have to be so gentle," you hummed, arching into his touch with no trace of shame. "I quite like it pulled."

Higuruma swallowed the hook together with the rod.

He gathered your hair into his fist, wrapped it around, and slowly—but with prominent power—pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck to himself. You mewled, following the move without further encouragement, giving him better access in the most arched, sweetest way possible. He leaned closer, his lips an inch away from your skin as he soaked in the familiar, sweet, intimate scent. The choice between possible routes was hard but eventually he settled on the most shameless one. He kissed your ear, brushed his lips right under it, and dived straight into the source of the fire burning him through all this time, through weeks that felt like ages.

The softness of your hair was even more intoxicating when Higuruma felt it against his face. The first tasting nudge found your approval, so he went for a shaky, almost desperate breath of your scent, so rich and so throughout yours. It was a sin to abandon it, but he knew he had to discover more—or else the doors to the forbidden garden might push him away and shut closed. Shaking and almost sobbing in immense pleasure and happiness, the lawyer trailed his kisses back to your neck, then down to the curve of your shoulder until he felt the seam of your dress under his lips.

"Hiromi…" You pleaded in whisper, for the first time calling him by his name. "Kiss me…"

Hand still tight in your hair, Higuruma tilted your head stronger to the side and leaned over your shoulder. Your noses brushed awkwardly before he finally found your lips. He expected it to be slow, just a little peck for a starter, but you apparently just waited for it. You grabbed him by the tie and pulled, your tongue slipping into his mouth without a warning nor hesitation. He let you take the lead at first but soon your advances weren't quite enough for his voracity, and he answered you with even greater eagerness.

It was his first kiss in so long and one of the very few so intense. You were barely stopping for a breath, one immediately pulling the other back when it halted. Higuruma's head was spinning, from lack of air and overflow of emotions. His heart was beating so fast that he danced on the line of fainting right in front of you, no wonder you guided him as you liked despite his hand clenched in your hair and kisses swallowing your breath.

You stood up and pushed him against the table, finally giving the both of you much deserved break and freeing each other of the tight clutch of your hands.

"Lemme," you nipped at his ear shortly after.

Gasping for air, Higuruma watched your advances with fascination. You unbuttoned his shirt with a casual knack and pawed at his hairy chest, trailing down the dark line towards the hem of his pants. Part of him was relieved to have his hard, almost painful, erection finally freed—the other dusted his cheeks with embarrassment. So fast and so easily… He wasn't a teenager anymore, his desperation was almost shameful.

Little did you care, almost shaking yourself when you fell to your knees and peeled his pants and underwear out of your way. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock, and wrapped fingers around it. A few testing strokes later, you brushed a droplet of precum off his tip with a thumb, then leaned for a little, almost cute kiss.

"Shit…" Higuruma muttered through clenched teeth. For once forgetting about your hair, he held on to the table for his dear life and focused on not cumming right on spot. Unaware of his fight, you continued with teasing kisses and kitty licks towards the base. With the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive skin of his balls you almost sent him flying; to stop orgasm from coming he bit his lip so hard he almost cut it to blood.

"So full…" You cooed, unawares of his struggle. Higuruma didn't dare to look at you—a futile effort as he could easily imagine what you were doing just by the feel of your lips and tongue at work.

"It's been… A while— Fuck!" As if it would help him if he held his breath and closed his eyes. Your mouth was so wet and hot and sucked him off with such fervor he was ready to beg you to slow down. It was illegal for a simple blowjob to feel so good; was it your skill or his desperation, all of it mixed with the tension building up relentlessly through the last few weeks—it didn't matter. Various thoughts were speeding through his mind, but he quite literally had no power to process them.

Higuruma mewled your name, a pitiful whimpering sound that clenched his chest with almost painful embarrassment. He felt your approving hum vibrating around his cock as you slid him into your throat, until you reached a depth comfortable for you, and started bobbing your head along his length. His imagination reached its peak of capability, drowned into comfortable darkness he desperately tried to enforce on his poor, tortured brain. So slick and hot, so tight when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, balancing right on the thin line between ineffable pleasure and discomfort.

You were on a mission to suck him dry—and he had no power (nor desire) to oppose you.

Yet, with the tension relentlessly building and nearing its peak, Higuruma put every ounce of his might left and peeled one hand off the table to immediately tangle it in your hair. You chirped, pleased, around his cock, clearly expecting a pull towards—not backwards. Eyes wide open and dark with desire, you gazed at him with upper confusion. You didn't even close your lips, a string of saliva still connected them with the tip of his dick.

"N-not like that…" The lawyer managed to choke out between desperate draughts for air. "I want—"

Thank goodness you read his mind like an open book. Otherwise, he would stutter there to the kingdom come and back, like a dazed idiot he was.

"Bed?" You nuzzled your head into his palm. The temptation to pull grew stronger again, so strong that Higuruma's cock twitched just at the thought. He quickly withdrew, brushed his fingers down your face to wipe saliva off your lips and chin. At the desired level he hesitated—and brushed a little string of drool back into your mouth and deeper. If you were surprised, you hadn't showed it, instead opening wider for him and swirling your sinful tongue around his digits.

A wild idea crossed his mind, a kink he had tried with one of his past partners but hadn't quite brought it back until now as he was fucking your mouth with his fingers and staring at your drool pooling inside and dripping down your chin, first droplets falling on the front of your dress. He didn't dare to say it but a move, expression or the whole situation must have betrayed him yet again.

You pierced him with an understanding gaze and nodded.

Higuruma slowly withdrew his fingers and grabbed your chin, soon tilting your head back. With his throat so dry it took him quite a moment to gather enough drool, but you waited oh so patiently, your eyes closed and your hair flowing down your head with the heave of your heavy breathing.

He leaned down and let his spit slowly drip down from the tip of his tongue, straight into your wide open, waiting mouth. Your whole body trembled and a little mewl broke through your lips as you let it slide down your throat.

"Such a good girl…" The guttural, heavy with desire voice that got out of his throat surprised even him. "Swallowing everything for me…"

He did it two more times before he couldn't find more spit to share. Instead, he returned to torture you with his fingers, playing with your tongue and testing how far he can reach before you gag around them. With great pleasure he was surprised to not find this moment despite trying really hard.

"If you're gonna torture me like this—" You warned with an impish gleam in your eyes as soon as he gave you a break. "—I won't hold it for longer and make you cum with my mouth."

Higuruma leaned against the table and cooled his head down with a few deep breaths.

"Bed," he agreed with the unanswered question of yours and helped you get up.

Yet again you took the lead and straight up herded him to his bedroom. When and how you figured which was the right door, he had no idea, but he also didn't ponder over this fact too much, too busy with not tripping while kicking his pants out of the way. You both fumbled at the threshold, tangled in clothes you desperately tried to get rid of while kissing each other blindly, until the lawyer finally found an upper hand and pushed you inside and then on top of the bed.

You started rolling the dress up, but Higuruma shoved your hand out of the way and reached beneath you for the zipper. It gave up so easily he worried for a moment he broke something, but you just graciously wiggled out, freeing your shoulders and breasts. The sight messed with his momentum, a heavy lump stuck at his throat, and he had to close eyes for a moment to not cum on the spot.

You finished rolling your dress down your hips and snapped your legs open with great impatience, "What, have you changed your mind?"

Higuruma cursed under breath, wiped his face with both hands—and immediately dove for it much like a bird of prey. Avoiding the temptation of your hair at all costs, he focused on your tattoos instead, tracing them with his tongue and kissing. He had no idea you had so many of them, in so many interesting places he was dying to explore and to cover with hungry hickeys.

But he was also aware of the burning hard problem below his waist, so he didn't waste a droplet of time. He reached straight between your legs, hummed at the feel of soft bush brushing against his fingers and spread your labia open.

"So wet for me, baby girl?" He breathed against one of your nipples before sucking on it with fervor.

A needy mewl was your answer as you bucked your hips, trying to steal friction from his palm. He didn't hesitate from giving you all you wanted, two fingers sliding into you at once. Just the squelching tight sensation was enough for a wave of pleasure to crush against him; with a whimper Higuruma thrusted dry against your side, staining your skin with precum.

"Fuck, you're so sexy…" His voice was breaking with desperation, but he kept a reasonable pace with stretching you. Your tightness was so hot and intoxicating, but he worried he could hurt you if he hurried the matters too much. If he made a mess and embarrassment out of himself because of it, he would take it, as long as you hadn't felt any unwanted pain.

You read him right yet again and grabbed him by wrist, "I'm ready."

His next move hadn't met the same patience as you whined when he left you on the bed to look for condoms in the drawer.

"It's okay, I'm on pills." You pulled him back by the hem of his shirt and slid it away a moment later, leaving him completely naked.

Clawing at his shoulders you kept nudging him until he was back in his place, teeth grazing at your neck. You fumbled in sheets warming each other up and experimenting for the last time before the main event, both of you growing impatient beyond tolerance.

"How do you want it?" Higuruma rasped into your ear and bit at its shell. His cock throbbed with warning at the sweet mewl of yours; he knew he wouldn't last much longer if he kept edging himself.

"You can be rough," you whined without a hesitation as he pushed himself on top of you again. "I'll just tell you to stop, if needed. And hair—"

"Got you."

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and gave you space to roll on your stomach and climb on your knees. He tried to not stare too much, just a glimpse of your ass arching for him, your hips swaying with invitation, put his blood pressure to alarming limits. Lining himself up at the best angle he could find, Higuruma kneeled between your legs and kneaded your cheeks. He loved how his fingers dipped into your soft flesh, but he didn't quite have enough time to appreciate everything you had to offer.

"Hair," you reminded him, looking over your shoulder at him with such heat in your eyes that a harsh shiver ran down his spine.

"I got you, my sweet girl." Higuruma leaned over your back and kissed the nape of your neck before taking a fist full of your hair. He hadn't pulled on it just yet, waited for the perfect moment when his cock slid into you and nestled comfy between your slick, tight walls.

He needed a break again, an inch away from an early finish. He kept the fire simmering by peppering you with bites and kisses, the grip on your hair kept satisfyingly strained until he felt he could move freely.

A single deep and shaky breath later Higuruma finally rose straight to his knees, pulling you with himself until you arched your back and mewled. A tinge of pain was audible in your voice, but your cunt fluttered around his cock, and you hadn't said anything, so he followed with the plan, trusting your words from a moment earlier.

"F-fuck…" He muttered as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush to your ass. "Such a good girl you are…"

You stated your limits clearly, but Higuruma didn't want to test his luck. The grip on your hair was more than enough to satisfy his wilder side—and still he refrained from yanking your head too much. Just enough to have your back tense like a string as you were taking each one of his deep, desperate thrusts. More out of curiosity than anything he smacked your ass with a juicy slap, the sight of your body rippling from the impact so powerful he had to slow down and wait through another dangerous close call.

"Hi… ro…" You struggled to call for him, one hand clawing at sheets, the other between your legs as you played with your clit. He clenched his teeth and spanked you again. You responded with loud and enthusiastic moans, the best music he heard in a long, long while.

The finish was really close. Higuruma's hand clenched hard on your hip, maybe even bruising you in process, but then his focus narrowed to your union only and its unbearably hot, slick sensation that kept swallowing him. All he needed was your high first; he didn't want to go there without satisfying you at least this much. Your sweet sounds and trembling body were giving him good guidance—and he kept repeating what he was doing until the tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you spasmed in his hold, the tight clench of your pussy sparking friction almost too intense for him.

It didn't take long for him to finish too; a few erratic thrusts later he spilled his seed deep in you and collapsed on top of you, pressing you tight to the mattress.

Catching on breath, almost blind from exertion, Higuruma kissed your neck right under the hairline and buried his nose at the back of your head. You didn't make any sound under him, and he worried he might have pressed you too hard—but as soon as he shifted his weight to side, you budged and protested with a weak mewl.

"Stay." You reached behind and threaded fingers through his hair. He shivered under the gentle touch, almost literally melting when you kept scratching at his scalp and playing with his sweaty strands.

"I'm staying," he promised and nuzzled close, flush against your back, cock still nestled deep in you. Frankly, even if he wanted, he didn't have much power left, just enough to roll to the side and collapse there for good. But he loved the intimacy of this moment even more than sex before, the warmth of your body, the rhythm of your pulse, the smell of your sweat covering your skin with a thin, sticky layer.

"Fuck, I think we need a shower." He mumbled to himself and chuckled, sure you had snoozed in his arms, but you answered the laughter and reached for his hand.

Higuruma gladly intertwined fingers with yours.

"I'd love to see your shower again." You kissed his knuckles, a smile pressed to your lips.

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actuallysaiyan · 1 month

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Send Me An Angel(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi)

warnings: smut, exhibitionist, oral sex(both fem and male receiving), drinking, smoking, drugs, candaulism, panty/pussy sniffing, creampie finish/unprotected sex, swearing, nipple play, pervertedness, pet names, just lots of lewd themes, threesomes word count: 4.6k!!! pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi summary: you meet Hiromi at the bar, and you two bond over your love of 80s music. Despite Kento being a protective husband, he always wants to see you happy...even if it means to fuck you in front of the loser lawyer a/n: HERE IT IS!!! Omg I have been dreaming and planning and thinking about this fic FOREVER!!!!! I want to give a very special shoutout to both @beneathstarryskies and @seireiteihellbutterflyfor helping me out with this beauty! taglist: @sparklynightm4re, @buttercupbitches(sorry tried to tag you but Tumblr won't let me!)

You sit at the bar, drink in hand. Your head starts bobbing to the music, and you instantly recognize the song. A presence sits near you, someone of average build and average height. You look over at them, your smile spreading on your face. He smiles shyly at you and then orders a drink from the bartender. After he receives his drink and pays, he then scoots a little closer to you.

"I love this song," he comments, looking at you curiously. You smile, "Me too! Nobody likes the classics anymore!"

There's a sudden chemistry between you and the man with the long nose. His tired eyes remind you of someone very dear to you. Between sips of your cocktails, you and the man you've come to know as Hiromi become acquainted. You two are deep in your conversation about post-punk music and synthpop when you feel a familiar presence near you.

His strong arms wrap around you, his head resting on your shoulder before he leans in to kiss your cheek brazenly in front of Hiromi. The lawyer's eyes widen as he gets a good look at the salaryman who's making his presence quite known.

"And who's this, darling?" His voice is deep and gravelly, almost filled with a need. You giggle, "This is my new friend. Hiromi Higuruma. He's a lawyer."

Kento's eyes narrow at the man sitting very close to you. He's not sure he likes the way Hiromi is looking at you, and he's certainly sure he doesn't like the way you and he keep giggling and talking like you've been friends for years.

"Higuruma-san, was it?" Kento asks, extending his hand out to Hiromi. "Nanami Kento." Hiromi shakes his hand, "A pleasure to meet you. This must be your pretty girlfriend." "Wife." Kento corrects watchfully. "Wife, hm? Lucky guy, you are."

Hiromi is beginning to sense he's no longer wanted, but you extend your hand to grab onto his wrist. Kento watches you carefully, but he thinks he understands what's going on now. When Hiromi faces you, you're pouting.

"Wait, you're not going to leave, right? I thought we were having a nice conversation, Hiromi." He smiles, looking down at his drink, "Well, I guess I can stay. That alright with you, Nanami-san?" Kento's eyes dart towards the tired lawyer, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself."

This causes you to playfully slap Kento's chest. You chastise him for chasing away so many people this way, but Kento can't help it if he wants to keep you locked away from the world. If it were up to him, he'd keep you at home at all times of the day and the night. It's always you who insists on going out and socializing with others.

You and Hiromi begin discussing the song that's playing, which puts Kento's mind at ease. Despite the spectacle he had seen earlier of you and Hiromi chatting and flirting like a pair of high school reunion lovebirds, Kento knows that you're just being kind. Sure, you flirt from time to time, but Kento knows that when he goes home, you're the one coming with him and only him. He's the one who's going to have your face down in the pillows, begging for a break from the violent pounding he'll give you.

"So you like 80s music then, Higuruma-san?" Kento asks, taking his pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He places one between your lips and then one between his before he procures a lighter to light them both.

Hiromi watches enviously as Kento pulls you closer, the tips of your cigarettes almost touching. The scene was sensual in its own right; images of fiery kisses are evoked from the sight of Kento lighting both of your cigarettes at once.

Hiromi clears his throat, grabbing his drink to wet his mouth. Then he turns to see you awaiting his reply so eagerly.

"Yes, I love 80s music." He finally concludes. Kento smirks at him, "Funny, so does my wife. No wonder she took a liking to you."

Hiromi smiles nervously. He knows the kind of game Kento is playing at, but it's you he can't really read. Despite your drop-dead gorgeous husband right by your side, you continue to flirt and be eager to talk to Hiromi. If you were trying to get him killed, then he wouldn't be surprised at all.

You and Kento smoke your cigarettes, enjoying a conversation that's just between the two of you. Hiromi can't help but listen in; something about what you'll be having for dinner tomorrow night, and something about having to pick up Kento's dry cleaning tomorrow morning.

Hiromi blanks out for a few moments. His mind is filled with a sweet wife of his own. The kind of girl that he would be proud to bring home to his parents. In his mind, he sees such a sweet face and such a loving smile. The voice that comes from those lips is like warm, dripping honey. Hiromi is enjoying his little fantasy so much, it takes something else to pull him out of the thought.

"Hiromi," you coo softly. "You okay?"

Hiromi smiles sheepishly, looking down at his hand holding his drink. He downs the rest of it within seconds, hoping it'll soothe his nerves. Kento continues to watch him from his position behind you. He looks like he'd snap Hiromi's neck with ease if given the chance.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just thinking."

You giggle softly. Kento grumbles in your ear, a soft warning to you. But he knows what your plan is, and he's not very fond of where this is going. Despite this, he'll more than likely entertain your idea.

"Are you imagining my wife in your little fantasies?" Kento asks, his eyes dark. Hiromi blushes, "Come on…don't say that. She's a fine lady, but she's yours." Kento smirks, "Oh? Is she not good enough for you?"

You slap Kento's chest playfully again, telling him to quit it. This is when Kento cups your cheek, planting a passionate kiss on those pretty, plump lips of yours. Hiromi would be lying if he said that just watching you two kiss didn't turn him on.

"That's enough! Don't embarrass me in front of my new friend," you whine and pout.

Kento chuckles darkly, moving some hair from your neck to place a kiss there too. Hiromi swallows hard, wishing he had another drink to keep him occupied. He's not even really sure where to look, but he knows he wants to keep looking at you. You, this ethereal being, that's just popped into his life. Something bright and beautiful to take the edge off the tiring monotony of his life.

"I think it's time we head home," Kento whispers in your ear. You nod, "Yes, I suppose it's time."

Kento heads over to the bartender to pay off your tab. You know he'll probably pay off Hiromi's tab as a way to show that he's the breadwinner in your relationship. While he's busy doing that, you find a pen and a pad of paper in your purse. You jot down your number, handing it to Hiromi. He looks at you like you've just signed his death wish. Your fingers brush against each other as you pass him the little piece of paper.

"Text me sometime, yeah? We can continue our conversation."

And with that, you're leaving with Kento. Hiromi gets one last glance at you as Kento slips his jacket onto your shoulders. And within a blink of his eyes, you two have disappeared out the door.

The night air feels so good on your skin. It's almost sobering you up. You lean against Kento, and he keeps a tight hold on your waist. You two walk in sync, your home only a few blocks away from your favorite bar. Kento lights up another cigarette; this one's for you to share.

"So, what do you think?" You ask him, looking up at him. Kento scoffs, "What? Him? You can't be serious, darling."

This causes you to pout and you know pouting is Kento's kryptonite. He's groaning as he watches you smoke the cigarette solemnly. You're just too precious to say no to.

"He's perfect! Just the type of guy I was looking for." You confess. "Him? He's just some pussywhipped loser. You can do better than that. He wouldn't even have the guts to ask you to fuck him." You giggle before passing the cigarette back to your husband. "That's the thing…" Kento cocks an eyebrow, "What is it this time?" "I don't want him to fuck me. I want him to watch us fuck."

Kento isn't that surprised, but his cock twitches to life. It's the thought of putting that damn loser in his place while he fucks you properly. That Higuruma-san probably hasn't fucked many women in his life. He's probably the type to pop within seconds of being in a hot, tight pussy.

"If you're sure about this," Kento starts. "I think it could be a little cruel to have such passionate sex in front of a man who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in years."

Your eyes widen. Did Hiromi really seem that pathetic in Kento's eyes? Something about this was turning you on in a way you couldn't quite describe. It was like you were the perfect trophy wife to be shown off. The kind of woman that most men have intense sexual fantasies about.

"Well, I gave him my number. Maybe he'll text me,"

But neither of you is truly convinced that Hiromi will come through with texting you. He's probably going to head home himself and fall asleep in his clothes like he does most nights. You begin to hope and pray that Hiromi would have the balls to actually contact you.

It's only when you and Kento are in front of the warm fireplace, snuggled on the white fur rug that your phone vibrates. You and Kento share excited glances. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself excited about the prospect of fucking his gorgeous wife in front of such a loser.

"It's him!" You giggle like an excited schoolgirl. "Answer him. Get him here now."

Hiromi's text is a pretty drunken one. He babbles about needing a place to crash, so you quickly give him the coordinates to Kento's penthouse suite. Then you and your husband wait with excitement flowing through your veins.

It's only about fifteen minutes later that you hear the buzzer. Kento goes to answer and grants entrance to your private home to the lawyer. Your heart is pounding your chest as the reality of the situation is finally dawning on you. This was actually going to happen. Your panties were a little wet already from your arousal.

There's a gentle knock on the door and you fling it open. Hiromi looks a bit disheveled and he smells like booze. You grab his wrist gently and you pull him into the penthouse. He looks around, his eyes widening at the luxury of your home.

"You found our place okay? You're doing alright?" you ask, wrapping your arm around his shoulder to lead him into the living room. Hiromi moans, "Yeah, I'm alright. Could use some water."

You help guide him to the couch, and you sit yourself right next to him. Your knees are touching. Kento comes in from the kitchen, a bottle of mineral water handed to the long-nosed man.

"Ahh, thank you." Hiromi slurs, opening the bottle and taking very greedy gulps of it. "Slow down, sweetie."

Your term of endearment nearly makes him spit out the water. He focuses on swallowing, then he turns to you. He's carefully assessing the situation. Shivers run down his spine when you begin to rub his thigh.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Hiromi questions, his cock twitching in his pants. "Nothing, just having a little fun. You like to have fun right?" You ask, a mischievous look in your eyes.

Kento then sits on the other side of Hiromi. Suddenly the lawyer feels very boxed in. If he wasn't completely sauced off his ass, he'd probably make a beeline for the door. But your soft touches and sweet perfume seem to soothe him more than he'd like to admit.

"I saw how you were looking at my wife," Kento begins. Hiromi throws his hands up in the air in defense, "Hey, come on. She's smoking hot. Can you blame me?" You caress his cheek, "Shhh…it's okay, Hiromi honey."

He shudders at your sweet touches. His cock grows harder the more you're teasing him. Kento keeps a watchful eye on both of you, but he's letting you have your fun.

"Let's lay down some ground rules," Kento finally pipes up. Hiromi looks over at your husband, "R-rules?" You nod, "Yeah if you want to have a little fun with us, Hiromi honey, you need to accept our rules."

And without warning, you reach over to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. His eyes shut and he lets out a pathetic moan. He has to focus on not cumming in his pants.

"Rule number one, we're calling the shots here. You have to listen to what we say and do what we tell you to do," Kento's voice sounds a million miles away as you continue to palm at Hiromi's cock. Hiromi nods his head, "G-got it." "Rule number two, we've got a safeword! It's bread, and if at any point any of us want to opt out, we can say this word. This includes you, Hiromi honey."

Hiromi moans, nodding his head once more. Kento taps his cheek, and the lawyer's eyes snap open. Kento asks for confirmation that he heard you, and Hiromi confirms.

"Rule number three consists of one thing. We can touch you as much as we want, but you are to always ask permission to touch either of us." Hiromi whines, "Fine, fine. That's fine with me."

You begin to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt to give him a little more relief. His hips buck up involuntarily to the stimulation you're providing. Hiromi's head leans back against the cool leather of the sofa. You gently graze your nails against his cheek before you pull him in for a kiss.

"Rule number four," you whisper on his lips. "Is that we all have fun."

Kento watches as you kiss the pathetic man who sits right next to him. He knows that he'll be fucking your brains out sooner rather than later, but he's growing impatient watching you play with your latest prey. It takes no time before you pull down the straps of your dress and you're straddling Hiromi's lap.

Kento helps you pull down your dress, exposing your breasts to both men. The black-haired man groans as your nipples are so close to his face, and he's wanting to suck on them so bad.

"Don't forget rule three," Kento warns him. "C-can I touch you? C-can I suck on your nipples?"

You nod your head, leaning in closer to let Hiromi have a taste of your soft skin. A sweet moan erupts from your parted lips as his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples. Kento surveils you both, his eyes dark with lust. It's been quite some time since you've picked out a third party for your nightly games.

"Doesn't she taste so sweet?" Kento asks, leaning in to begin kissing your neck. "Fuck yeah," Hiromi moans as he continues suckling on your tits. "Like…strawberries." Kento chuckles, "Just wait til you taste her pussy…well, that is if she lets you."

Hiromi is in a daze. This is all too much. He thinks to himself that even if he can't fuck either of you or even get to touch you more than this, he'll consider this night a success. He's enjoying himself as he sucks and nips at your nipples. Your fingers are carding through his hair.

"How does it feel, darling?" Kento inquires, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So good, baby. He's got such a soft tongue."

After a few minutes, you get off Hiromi's lap. Then you extend your hand out to him, which he gratefully takes after asking you if it's okay. You begin leading him into the master bedroom. Kento's following close behind. Once inside the bedroom, you show Hiromi the comfortable sofa that's in the corner of the room. He sits down on it, noticing the side table is filled with all kinds of paraphernalia. Things ranging from glass pipes used to smoke marijuana, lots of different packs of cigarettes, and condoms of every variety. He even spots some smaller baggies with various pills inside.

"Help yourself to anything you like," you offer to him as you walk over to the expensive-looking stereo system. Some upbeat synthpop music begins to play softly.

Hiromi thanks you, but his eyes dart towards the door. Kento is beginning to undress, and his mouth is growing dry as he admires the man. He's so well-built. His muscles flex as he continues removing more of his clothing. Hiromi has never seen such a specimen of man before. Kento realizes he's being admired.

"So you're into men too, huh?" Hiromi blushes, "Well…uh…yeah, I guess."

You come over to both of them, and you sit on Hiromi's lap. You beckon Kento to come closer, and you begin to unbutton his pants and unbuckle his belt. You can feel Hiromi's erection poking you in the ass. Moving your hips to the rhythm of the song, you feel him twitching and throbbing with every move you make.

"She's a little temptress, hm?" Kento questions. "Mmm y-yeah, she sure is."

You continue to grind down against him, finally helping Kento out of his pants. He's only in his boxer briefs now, his cock straining against the material. Then you look up at him, begging him to take the lead on the next part of this.

He gathers you up in his arms, kissing you longingly and sloppily. Your tongues wrestle together, swapping spit together in such a lewd manner that Hiromi just cannot tear his eyes away from you both. He's going to enjoy watching you two make love.

Kento places you on the bed, his calloused hands rubbing and caressing all your erogenous zones. You moan softly as his fingers pinch and pull on your sensitive nipples. Then his head dips down to capture one of them into his mouth as his hands continue to undress you. Once your dress is pulled off, he turns to face the lawyer sitting in the corner.

"Wanna come see if she smells as good as she tastes?" Kento goads him on.

Within seconds, Hiromi is up and off the sofa and he's on his hands and knees at the foot of the large bed. Kento spreads your legs, showing the wet patch on your pretty little panties. Hiromi is practically salivating as he begins to get closer.

You shudder as Kento pulls your panties off so slowly, exposing you to the lawyer who is ready to worship you both body and soul. Then he turns to face Hiromi and he gives the man your soiled panties.

"Have those, she's got lots more."

The black-haired man holds the soiled material to his nose and takes a greedy inhale. He shudders at the sweet and musky scent of your arousal. His tongue darts out pathetically to lick up a bit of the nectar.

"Look at him," Kento draws your attention towards Hiromi. "Pussywhipped loser."

Something about watching the way Hiromi is licking your panties really drives you wild. With your pussy exposed, Kento begins teasing your clit with slow circles. You buck up to meet his hand, which earns you a scoff from your beautiful blond lover. When your eyes meet, you can see the warning in them to be a bit more patient.

Without warning, Hiromi brings himself closer to your pussy and his face is inches away from it. His pupils have all but turned into hearts when he looks at your cute little cunt. He's just about to lean in when Kento pushes him off the bed.

"Did you forget rule three already?! You can't just do whatever you want." Kento growls.

Hiromi apologizes profusely, his heart racing. The thought of Kento hurting him to lay claim to you is turning him on. Maybe he is just a pathetic, desperate sex fiend. A pervert who hasn't gotten laid in so long. He sits up on his knees, watching you both.

"You wanna know what it's like to not have to ask for permission? Watch closely,"

With those words, Kento sinks himself into your dribbling hole. You cry out, clinging to your husband. He begins drilling himself into you, making you moan just for him. Hiromi's eyes widen, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"You like that, huh? Fucking loser, you love watching my wife take my cock, don't you?"

Kento's words are hitting him hard. Hiromi has to begin palming himself through his slacks, the precum making a stain in his boxers. You look at the lawyer, moaning loudly as Kento keeps hitting your sweet spot dead on. Hiromi brings your panties to his nose as he begins to unbuckle his belt and take his leaking cock out of his boxers.

"Look at him," Kento goads, "look how much he's so desperate."

Your eyes are practically rolled back in your skull, and anyone can see you're much too preoccupied with the pleasure to even think about looking at the desperate man who is now jerking off at the edge of your bed. Kento chuckles darkly.

"See that? That's what a woman in the throes of pleasure looks like. Something I'm sure you've barely ever seen in your life."

Hiromi grunts as he picks up the pace of stroking his cock. His fist is a blur as he jerks himself off; your panties are still pressed to his nose. Your sweet moans and cries of love make his cock dribble out even more precum.

"K-Ken…I'm gonna cum!"

Kento growls sensually before picking up his own pace. He's slamming into you, making sure to angle his hips so that the tip of his cock continues to ram against that sweet spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars. Waves of electricity course through your body, making the muscles in your groin begin to tense as your orgasm builds more and more. The flame in your belly is burning hot, and the coil snaps. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back, and your plump lips part to cry out his name.

"Fuck, she's milking my cock so good!" Kento grunts, his own orgasm imminent.

Hiromi feels his balls drawing up fast, and he can't keep his eyes off the lewd scene in front of him. He moans as he fucks his fist a little faster, squeezing as if it was your pussy milking him as well. Then with a loud grunt, he's cumming so hard. Spurts of his cum begin to shoot out and cover his fist and the edge of the bed.

"Hah, I knew you'd blow your load first!" Kento brags. "I could keep going, but I suppose I shouldn't overstimulate my wife too much. I think she's had too much excitement for one night,"

Hiromi is slack-jawed as he watches Kento plow himself into you. His cock throbs with every thrust, and Hiromi has the front-row seat to watch as the man fucking your brains out is about to cum. The long-nosed man is very mesmerized by the blond's movements.

"Shit, such a fucking good pussy! Fuck I'm gonna cum!" Kento cries out. "Watch Hiromi-san, this is how you breed a pretty little wife!"

With a loud roar, Kento's hips stutter as the pleasure hits him hard. Shot after shot of his potent and sticky cum begins to fill your pussy. You whine from the overstimulation, but he's quick to hush you with sweet words of praise and love. Then slowly, he settles onto your tits and begins sucking on them.

"Hiromi honey," you call out to the lawyer. He looks up at you, a blush on his cheeks. "Yeah?" You smirk, "Come here, honey."

Hiromi crawls onto the bed. Kento pulls out, and both men watch as the cum begins to leak out of your abused hole. The lawyer is salivating at the sight of your puffy cunt. Kento beckons him closer, spreading your thighs a little bit.

"Have a taste," Kento instructs. "You've been a pretty good boy. I think you deserve it. But…" Hiromi looks up at him, "But what?" "You've got to clean us both up. Not just her, you better be sucking me cleaning too."

Hiromi feels his cock springing back to life at the chance to taste you both. First, he leans in to take a big whiff of your pussy. It's taken on a more musky scent with Kento's seed mixing in, but it's definitely still making him dizzy. He tentatively licks your folds before moaning. He's in heaven as he begins to lap at you like you are his last meal.

"Heh, you still think she tastes like strawberries?" Kento asks him.

Hiromi looks up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. He moans his response, not caring that Kento's seed is mixing with your arousal. To the lawyer, you both taste so heavenly. A flavor he doesn't want to soon forget.

Kento reaches over, gripping Hiromi's black hair. He pulls him away from your oversensitive cunt, and he pushes him towards his half-hard leaking cock. Hiromi is quick to open his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy on Kento's cock. The black-haired man moans as he begins to take even more of your husband's dick in his mouth.

"Fuck, darling…do you see just how much of a pervert he is?"

With that, Kento pushes him off and lets you all catch your breath. You watch through half-lidded eyes as your husband dons his favorite robe and heads into the kitchen. Hiromi stays put on the ground, unsure of what to do. You pat the spot next to you, and he sits near you.

"Hiromi honey, did you enjoy yourself?" you turn around and grab the sheet to cover your body.

He finds it adorable that you're choosing to be more modest right now. The vulnerability in that one little move really makes his chest feel warm. Suddenly he feels like he's actually looking into your private life.

Kento returns with a few bottles of mineral water for all of you. He also has a warm washcloth for you and Hiromi. Hiromi blushes as he turns away from both of you and cleans off his cock and his hands. Kento sits on the bed and wipes up the cum from your puffy, red pussy.

Once everyone is decent and cleaned up, you all take a moment to drink the water. Kento lights up a cigarette and as a sign of good faith, he hands one to the lawyer who gratefully accepts it. You three sit on the bed with the window cracked open, smoking your cigarettes.

"Still need a place to crash?" Kento asks Hiromi. "Yeah, I'd love that."

You lean back against the pillows, beckoning the lawyer over. He strips down to his boxers and he crawls under the covers. There's a warmth that comes from you as you wrap your arms around him and allow him to snuggle against your breasts. What surprises Hiromi is when Kento settles behind the man and wraps a protective arm around him.

"Sleep tight," you coo softly. "Love you, Ken." "Love you too, sweetie. Sleep well."

And the three of you fall into a deep sleep…

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starsinmylatte · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Yet another wonderful request as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event!

This fic is a gift for @starlitnotes (who Tumblr is apparently against me tagging, so I will DM her 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my event and my writing so far 💜

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Afab!reader x Hiromi Higuruma Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 9k Request: Yakuza bosses Nanami and Higuruma

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (darling, baby, etc), threesome, oral sex, cum swallowing, praise kink, breeding kink, masturbation, Double penetration (vaginal), cervix fucking, etc.

“Excuse me, Miss?” An unfamiliar voice rang out from behind you as you scoured hardened syrup from the wooden surface of your coffee bar.

You whirled around, tossing your rag aside and snatching a spatula off the other counter. The cafe had been empty five minutes ago, and you knew that you’d already locked all the doors. No matter how polite your intruder was, he shouldn’t have been able to get in.

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, clutching the spatula like a lifeline and pointing it toward the voice. Even though it was just a small silicone and wood tool, you felt safer with it in your hands.

A tall young man in a well-cut black suit seemed to melt out of the shadows that lined the back exit hallway. He calmly walked closer as you brandished your “weapon” at him, running a hand through his unruly brown hair and smiling sheepishly.

“I swear I’m a friend; I’m not here to hurt you.” The mystery guest raised his hands placatingly, showing you that he was unarmed. “My name is Takuma Ino, and unless you want to be arrested for conspiring with the yakuza…. please come with me.”

There was a loud, booming knock at your front door as if on cue, and another unfamiliar male voice yelled. “This is Detective Zen’in with the Tokyo Police Department! I’m here about an urgent matter. Please open the door so we can speak.”

Ino bristled at the sound of the detective’s voice. He immediately grabbed your upper arm and attempted to tug you towards the back door, but the sudden action spooked you. Your reflexes completely took over, and you slammed the wooden handle of the spatula against his fingers with a resounding crack. The young man barely suppressed a yelp of surprise, snatching his hand back and hissing in pain.

“Owwww,” he groaned quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but we have to go now.”

The detective knocked at your front door again, and you flinched, feeling very much like cornered prey. Ino nervously rubbed his fingers, trying to soothe the sting as he glanced at the front door. “Please, Miss….. Look, you can bring that thing and hit me again if I make you feel uncomfortable in any way, but please just come with me.”

The knocking grew more insistent, and the detective yelled again, “Ma’am, we know you’re in there. If you do not comply, we will forcefully open this door.”

Ino looked at you frantically as he mouthed another silent plea and gestured toward the exit. A potent, white-hot mixture of fear and adrenaline shot through you as you realized that you had no time left; you had to decide now. You could only hope you wouldn’t regret your choice as you nodded at Ino, grabbed your purse, and followed him out the back door into the night.

As soon as the two of you reached the back alley, Ino motioned for you to stay put. He glanced around, scanning the other small, connecting road. Due to the lack of foot traffic behind the stores, there were only a few street lights in the alley, and you could barely see anything beyond your feet. Ino seemed frustrated, muttering under his breath until suddenly, lights flicked on inside a sleek, expensive-looking black car near the road. Your savoir sighed in relief as he ushered you towards the vehicle, throwing the door open and nearly tossing you in.

It all happened so fast that you barely had time to think before Ino slammed your door closed and vaulted into the passenger’s seat. The driver instantly shut off all the interior lights and revved the engine, leaving you scrambling to buckle your seatbelt in the dark. Your fingers scraped over supple, well-conditioned leather as the car shot forward, hurtling through the back roads and away from the cafe. Ino and the driver carried on a hushed conversation across the front seat as you tried to process everything that had just happened, but there was one primary concern on your mind.

“Ino-san….” you spoke carefully into the dark, “Why do the police think that a Cafe owner is involved with the Yakuza?”

“It’ll make more sense when you meet the Oyabun… er, well, both of them. They can explain everything,” Ino offered, exchanging a look with the driver. You felt so frustrated; they had left you literally and metaphorically in the dark. All you could do was sit there in the quiet luxury of your surroundings, more questions and concerns brewing in your mind as the car sped off into the night.

You passed the time by staring out the window, trying to retain some bearing of your surroundings, but the car was traveling too quickly for you to read the names of any streets or buildings. Soon, the blurry grey cityscape disappeared altogether. Lush trees began to fill your vision as moonlight poured into the car. The treeline grew thicker and thicker, seemingly stretching on forever as the road began to incline steadily. You realized the two men were taking you deeper into the mountains outside Tokyo, and an icy chill shot through you.

“Oh, god…. They’re going to kill me out here, and no one will ever find my body.”

The driver must have sensed your quiet fear, and he sighed deeply. “Ino-kun, please tell me that you explained at least some of the situation to her.”

“I figured that the Oyabun would want to tell her most of it,” Ino grumbled, still nursing his hand, “We didn’t have a lot of time with that weasel of a detective outside her door, so I just told her to come with me if she didn’t want to be arrested, and that she could hit me with that spatula again if I scared her.”

The exhausted-looking driver removed one hand from the steering wheel and slapped it against his forehead, wincing and rubbing his eyes over the rim of his glasses.

“What!?!” Ino protested, throwing his arms out dramatically. “It seemed reasonable enough to me. That thing hurts, and besides-! She’s safe, and that’s what matters!”

In any other situation, you probably would’ve found the scene hilarious. The other man gave a long-suffering sigh, pointedly ignoring Ino as the young man continued to try and explain his reasoning, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of you smacking him. The driver slowed the vehicle in the middle of the road and pulled off to the side without another word. Your hand crept towards the door handle, just in case.

“Please…. don’t.” The driver clicked on the cabin light and turned around, looking at you tiredly as your fingertips brushed the only barrier that stood between your freedom, “I give you my word that it would be a mistake to leave now; please let me explain more thoroughly.”

You gazed back at him warily, moving your hand away from the handle just enough to signal that you’d hear him out. The driver had a kind but somewhat pinched and anxious face; for a yakuza driver, he seemed strangely considerate.

“My name is Kiyotaka Ijichi, and this is Takuma Ino. We both work for the Kintatsu-ikka, and our Oyabun-”

“Our boss!” Ino supplied helpfully, turning to give you a lopsided grin.

“We received a tip that you were wrongfully associated with two different Yakuza groups and placed in danger. That detective who arrived at your Cafe is not a good man; if he had reached you first, you’d likely be jailed over false charges. The Oyabun of our family sent us to pick you up and bring you somewhere safe.” Ijichi explained calmly, adjusting his glasses.

“That still doesn’t answer why they think I know you people.” You snapped back, a little more forcefully than intended. Hot, angry tears welled up, threatening to spill over at any moment as you huffed. “I’m innocent. I don’t associate with criminals.”

“Don’t panic,” Ijichi reassured you gently. “I may not have the answers, but I’m taking you to people who will. It may not mean much coming from me, but our organization is different than what you think. Let us prove to you that we aren’t just ‘criminals.’”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” you sniffled, toying with the hem of your sleeve.

Ijichi smiled at you, the expression softening his face and lightening the dark circles under his eyes. “We aren’t too far from our destination, but please try to relax some.”

He left the light on as he started to drive again, quickly pulling back onto the road with smooth precision. You sighed, suddenly aware of the massive amount of tension in your shoulders and back that wasn’t there an hour ago. Ijichi leaving the light on was a small gesture, but it did help you relax. Ino remained silent in the passenger seat, and every so often, you could see him glance at you using the rearview mirror, but the atmosphere was no longer tense. Still, you couldn’t shake all of the anxiety from your mind as the car traveled on.

After a few more minutes passed, Ijichi turned the car down an almost-hidden road, and the massive outline of a house appeared through the dark curtain of trees. As you drew closer, the soft glow of lanterns lined a well-paved stone driveway, growing brighter and illuminating more of the multi-floored house and surrounding gardens. Your mouth parted in a silent exclamation as you stared out the window. It was gorgeous…. dark and sleek, like a modern mansion, but heavily influenced by the style of a traditional Japanese home. Like many other people who lived in Tokyo, you’d only ever lived in a tiny, very drab city apartment; there was no way you could fathom anyone owning something that massive.

You tried to stifle your amazement, quietly reminding yourself that you weren’t here to ogle some crime boss’s home as Ijichi pulled up and around to the front steps. Ino stepped out, opened your door, and offered his hand with a small smile. As you looked out, you were distracted by two massive stone dragon statues that flanked the steps. Their teeth were permanently bared in a protective snarl as a warning for those who entered, and you shivered.

“Kintatsu-Ikka,” Ino reminded you coyly.

Tentatively, you accepted the young man’s help, and he led you onto the beautiful wooden engawa that surrounded the entire mansion. He didn’t even need to unlock the door; he simply pushed it open to lead you inside.

Your jaw dropped despite your best attempt to keep a neutral expression; the interior was somehow even more beautiful than the exterior. Moonlight entwined with lanternlight pooled through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, shining on dark, polished wood floors. A crackling fire burned in a glass fireplace beside a common area furnished with plush-looking leather couches and chairs.

Notably, the central couch was occupied by a young boy in the most rumpled suit you’d ever seen. He was completely sprawled out in a position that made your back hurt just to look at, watching a cheesy action movie on a glossy, widescreen T.V. that probably cost more than your entire yearly salary.

Ino chuckled at your awe-struck expression, “I know, right? I think everyone had that reaction the first time they saw the place. Our Oyabun has good taste.”

The young boy perked up at the sound of Ino’s voice, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to stand up. “Kyodai! You’re back!”

He bounced onto the floor with youthful zeal, altogether abandoning the movie he had been so engrossed in and running up to the two of you. “Hi, I’m Yuji. Who are you?”

Yuji cocked his head at you in curiosity, the sudden movement causing his strawberry-pink hair to flop to one side. You smiled and introduced yourself, charmed by the sweet boy, but your inner thoughts only grew more complicated.

“This sweet boy is supposed to be a criminal?? Why do none of these supposed Yakuza act or look anything like the stories?”

Of course, you had heard more than your fair share of stories about the shady criminal organizations that Japan was so infamous for. Yakuza were supposed to be malicious gangsters who only pretended to follow an honor code. They were supposed to be rough, low-life criminals who had simply been given a spit-shine and a suit, but the young boy who stood in front of you seemed like an overeager puppy, energetic and harmless.

Yuji’s eyes shone as he recognized your name. “Oh! You’re-”

“Can’t talk now, little bro. She’s got a meeting with your dad.” Ino interrupted him, pulling you past before you could register what he said.

Ino led you past a few rooms where the glossy wooden floors gave way to traditional tatami mats. You turned down another hallway, passing more closed doors and what looked like a sizeable library before the two of you arrived at the end of the hallway, where one more door waited. The soft glow of lamplight shone out from the frame, signaling that it was occupied. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as Ino stepped up and knocked softly. A low, delighted chuckle came from inside, and your heart stopped as the door finally swung open.

“N-Nanami-san?!?” You managed to squeak out, almost dropping your purse in surprise.

You had no idea who you had expected to meet, but it certainly wasn’t one of your favorite longtime customers. Moonlight shone down on Nanami Kento's tall, well-built figure, further softening his sharp features as he sat behind a massive wooden desk on the far side of the room. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in the tan suit and spotted tie he always seemed to favor. A few stray strands of Nanami’s beautiful golden hair framed his face as he nursed a glass of whiskey, raising the crystal highball glass to his lips for a taste of the amber liquid. He let his gaze wash over you, almost as if he was savoring your presence alongside the alcohol.

A low chuckle came from behind the door, and a raspy, darkly intelligent voice teased. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d ignore me…. I’m hurt.”

Your heart had stopped earlier, but now it just left your body entirely as Higuruma Hiromi stepped into view. As always, he was almost the visual opposite of Nanami but no less handsome in his black suit. Hiromi walked towards you, tall and lanky, darkly attractive with mussed hair and a near-permanent look of exhaustion hidden behind a small grin.

“Don’t badger her, Hiromi. She’s had a long day.” Nanami chastised firmly.

Hiromi adjusted the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt and gave you a lopsided grin that made your stomach churn. “Sorry, sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

The two men were night and day from each other, but they were both your favorite patrons by far, each visiting the Cafe on the same day every week. As certain as night became day, Hiromi showed up on Monday mornings, and Nanami visited you every Thursday. You had grown to cherish their company, even allowing them to come and visit with you in the early hours before the Cafe actually opened, something you had never let anyone else do. However, neither man had ever mentioned the other, and you had never seen them at the same time. You had absolutely no reason to think the men had known each other.

A memory flashed through your mind as you stared at Nanami, gasping for air.

He had come to visit even earlier than usual one morning, walking in while you were tending to the pastry dough in your small professional kitchen.

Nanami had poked his head in to find you listening to an old song on your small radio, swaying your hips and humming along to the infectious tune. You were in your own little world, completely oblivious to his presence as you systematically filled croissant dough with chocolate and plopped them onto an awaiting tray.

You moved to place the tray into the oven but tripped over a rag on the way over, crying out as you braced to hit the hard tile floor…. but the pain you had expected never arrived. Instead, you landed against a broad chest and surprisingly muscular arms that broke your fall. The pastries hit the floor with a loud clatter, but it didn’t matter as Nanami chuckled in your ear, his low, rich voice bringing a deep flush to your cheeks as his hand stroked your waist.

“Careful, now.”

Only a few weeks later, Hiromi knocked on your front door one morning and stumbled in, tired and exhausted from “a long night at work,” but he had come anyway, wholly unwilling to miss his visit with you.

“You’d worry too much if I didn’t come,” he’d grinned at you, teasing but infuriatingly correct.

You had steadfastly ignored him, instead choosing to chastise the exhausted man for not taking better care of himself. You made his usual order from memory while making him swear that he’d get more rest. As you pushed the warm cappuccino into his hands, Hiromi’s clever fingers brushed against yours in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Anything for you,” he had said, looking into your eyes with a smile that made your knees weak.

You lurched back to reality as Hiromi led you to a plush leather armchair and gently helped you sit back. Your movements were slow and robotic, but you didn’t pull away from the warmth of his hand.

“What… what the fuck is going on?” You suddenly felt breathless, like you were drowning in the deep end of a pool. Hurt and anger flashed through you like wildfire. You had let these men in. Not only that, you had trusted them and grown to care for each of them.

“I’m sorry. We should have told you sooner.” Nanami sighed, “We both agree that keeping you in the dark was wrong, but please give us the chance to explain. The last thing either of us wanted was to hurt you.”

Hiromi reluctantly pulled away from your side, returning to take his seat next to Nanami. He nodded in agreement with the blonde man’s words and took a deep drink from his wine glass before he spoke. “We may not have been completely forthright with everything, but I promise that neither my brother nor I ever lied to you.”

“But… I thought you were a salaryman, and I thought you were a lawyer?? You didn’t ever mention each other, but now you’re brothers? I thought I knew you. What are you… Who are you?” You questioned furiously, gesturing between the two men.

All the stolen touches, all the charged glances, and honeyed words... Were they all a lie?

You’d wanted one or both men so desperately that you’d deleted the dating app on your phone, praying that eventually, you’d work up the courage to ask one of them out. At night, you dreamed about how they’d touch you; in your wildest dreams, you even thought about what having both of them at once would be like.

Both men had the decency to look ashamed as a single, angry tear rolled down your cheek. Hiromi tugged at his tie as if it had grown too tight, and Nanami sighed deeply, bowing his head. “We aren’t brothers in the literal sense, but we are ‘brothers’ because Hiromi and I joined the same Yakuza family when we were young. You may have heard Ino refer to another member of the Kintatsu-Ikka as ‘shatei’ or ‘little brother,’ which is the same concept.”

Hiromi finished fiddling with his tie, leaving it undone around his neck. “As for your other question, I am still a lawyer, and he does have some salaryman duties; Kento still handles a lot of booking-related concerns because he’s too damn good with numbers. We both started our careers in administration….” he paused, selecting his next words carefully, “...before we decided that certain things in our organization needed to change.”

You stared at the desk, steadfastly refusing to look at either man as Nanami continued, “Our family split into two rival factions, and Hiromi and I each took control of one side. We reshaped both organizations but left them separate because it allowed us a certain advantage over other, much less savory groups. My men became known as the Kintatsu-ikka, and Hiromi formed the Kageakuma-Kai.”

The names bounced around in your brain, and suddenly, something clicked. You had heard of them; some of the other shopkeepers around your district had specifically purchased protection from one of the two groups. They told you that the men were kind and honorable and could help you if any other Yakuza families tried to trouble you.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were in the first place?” Your cheeks flushed hot, and you drew your arms around your body, desperate for some comfort from the way your heart ached. “Were you wanting to play with my emotions… to make me look like a fool?”

Both men looked instantly mortified.

“No. Absolutely not.” Hiromi said firmly, frowning as he set his wine glass down with a soft clink.

“That is the last thing we wanted,” Nanami’s handsome brow furrowed deeply as he agreed.

“You must understand that in our line of work, we don’t meet many genuine people,” Hiromi mused, studying how his red wine swirled against the glass. “Most people we meet either instantly fear us or they want something from us. You…. were an outlier; you were kind, warm, and just-.”

“Lovely,” Nanami murmured, finishing the raven-haired man’s sentence. “You were lovely. By the time we realized that we needed to tell you, neither of us knew how to. It isn’t an excuse, but we do want to make it up to you.”

“W-what am I supposed to do now?” You stammered. “Ijichi-san mentioned that the detective who showed up at the Cafe today was a ‘bad man.’ What does that even mean?”

If you had any doubt that the two men in front of you were telling the truth about being Yakuza, it immediately vanished as their expressions hardened in an instant. Nanami’s normally warm, brown gaze carried the full weight of scorched earth, and Higuruma’s dark irises glinted like obsidian.

“Don’t worry; he will be taken care of,” Hiromi muttered, staring intensely over the rim of his wine glass. His tone had a dark, glittering edge, and the implication behind his words made you freeze.

“The two of you… You hurt people, don’t you?” You questioned softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Hiromi and Nanami looked at each other briefly before the weight of their combined gaze settled back on you.

“We do, but only people who deserve it,” Nanami said plainly as if he were discussing the weather. “Both the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai are groups that actively follow the code of bushido. We practice honor and restraint but do not show those virtues to those who do not deserve them.”

“That weasel knows that you likely have nothing to do with our organization. He’s a corrupt cop that another Association bought with their blood money; you’re innocent, and he’s trying to hurt you.” Hiromi spat darkly.

Both men radiated a fiercely protective aura that filled the room and made your heart skip a beat. You had been absolutely terrified earlier, and you had even felt betrayed by both men. They had certainly made a mistake by keeping you in the dark about their identities, but they had also done their best to fix it by helping you and answering all of your questions. A warmth began to blossom in your chest, replacing the fear and anger that previously resided there. With the intensity and honesty of your conversation, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that both Nanami and Higuruma would walk through fire to keep you safe.

“So…. What do I do now, then?” You questioned with a soft smile, trying your best to extend an olive branch.

Their intensity faded, giving way to sheer relief as Nanami exhaled softly, and some of the tension left Higuruma’s shoulders.

“I’d like for you to stay here, at least for a little while,” Nanami responded gently. “This house is safer than almost any other place in Tokyo.”

Higuruma huffed into his wine glass, “I think you’re vastly underselling it, but I agree. My place would be the other option, but it’s in the middle of the city, and I don’t think it’s safe for you to re-enter Tokyo just yet.”

You looked down at your coffee-stained clothes and then back to the two men, trying to figure out how to ask what you’d do about basic necessities. Nanami caught on to your dilemma quickly, and he simply smiled and waved his hand. “Oh, don’t worry. One of the guest rooms is already fully set up and we can have anything you need brought in tomorrow.”

“We’ve caused you enough stress,” Higuruma acknowledged with an apologetic smile. “I can easily speak for both of us when I say that we’d like to take good care of you while you’re here.”

The lamplight reflected off his dark eyes, which were slightly hazy from the wine. You blushed and swallowed nervously at his words; your frustration had evaporated, leaving you painfully aware of the feelings you still harbored toward both men.

“You’re to treat my home as your own while you’re here,” Nanami added softly. “Ino and Yuji will keep you safe if we have to step out during the day, but both Hiromi and I will be here all night, every night. We will do everything in our power to resolve this matter and keep you safe.”

The two men shared a pointed look before turning back to face you. Higuruma and Nanami gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“It must be obvious by now that both of us… care for you,” Hiromi murmured, his black eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “If you allow us, we want to make up for our mistakes. We want to care for you- honestly, we’d both like to spoil you rotten.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Nanami nodded in agreement. “We both just want to see you safe and happy.”

“Thank you. I feel much better now with both of you here,” you murmured, desperately trying to keep your voice from shaking.

It was true. You did feel much better, but you were also completely exhausted from the day's harrowing events. Your body had held so much stress and tension over the last few hours that almost every inch of your skin hurt.

Hiromi noticed your discomfort, frowning slightly. “Kento, let’s save the rest of this for later. She’s beyond exhausted.”

“How about a hot shower and some sleep?” Nanami suggested softly, and you nodded in vigorous agreement.

“That sounds lovely.” You murmured wistfully, already imagining how the hot water would soothe your aches and pains.

Without further fanfare, Nanami and Higuruma got up to escort you from the office. Your legs were wobbly from sheer exhaustion, but you managed to stand and follow the two men without any major issues. As they led you through the house, it was empty; everyone else had either gone home or had long since gone to bed.

“This will be your room, and the one next to it is mine. Hiromi is on your other side, and my son sleeps across the hall,” Nanami said with a smile, gesturing at each door in turn. If you need anything, please let one of us know.”

“I will,” you murmured, returning his smile.

Both men studied you carefully in the dim lighting. They seemed reluctant just to leave you alone, but Hiromi finally broke the silence rather awkwardly. “Er, well, I can only think of one more thing you’ll need to know. We wanted to give you clean clothes to sleep in, but we don’t have many women around… Anyway, we both left you a few choices that should be comfortable enough.”

Hiromi’s voice was raspier than usual as he looked to the side and scratched his head sheepishly. A light flush had spread across the lawyer's cheeks if your eyes weren’t tricking you in the dim lighting.

“Ok….?” You said tentatively. Part of you questioned his reaction, but the tired half of your brain just decided to go with it.

“Good night, then. We are glad that you arrived safely.” Nanami whispered with a small smile as the two men headed off to their respective rooms.

Unsurprisingly, the room they had you staying in was no less beautiful than the rest of the house, but you were far too tired to inspect it thoroughly. All you cared about was the large, soft bed and the attached bathroom as you opened the door, threw off your clothes, and immediately jumped into the shower. The warm water felt just as good as you’d thought, and the spacious bathroom was stocked with any luxury product you could ever need. When you were ready to get out, your skin felt soft and wonderfully pampered.

You still didn’t fully realize why Hiromi had been so sheepish until after you had toweled off and stepped back into the bedroom. A small, multicolored mountain on top of the dresser caught your eye, and you audibly gasped when you realized that it was entirely made up of men’s clothing. There were luxuriously soft sweatpants, pattered pajama pants, socks, hoodies, and many different styles of well-loved T-shirts, all laid out for you to choose from. Honestly, there were enough clothes in the pile that you could easily have pajamas or comfortable loungewear for an entire month.

Eventually, you decided on a pair of lovely knit socks, some soft grey sweatpants that were clearly from Nanami’s wardrobe, and one of Higuruma’s old law school shirts. It was almost unfair; the clothes smelled like a perfect mixture of the two men. A heady blend of leather, aftershave, tea, and tobacco clouded your senses, and you blushed, realizing that you’d be wearing their clothes and nothing else since you had no clean underwear to put on. As you dressed, a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn’t from fear; no, this was a shiver of pure need.

Both Higuruma and Nanami had been recurring visitors in your dreams for many months, and you had only grown more desperate to know how they’d feel and how they’d taste. You wanted to know if they’d be rough, pressing you into the mattress with deep, almost brutal thrusts, or if they’d be slow and sensual, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you with their tongues and fingers, making you beg to feel their cocks. Maybe they’d switch between the two, or maybe they’d want you on top. Honestly, you couldn’t even tell what scenario you wanted more.

Your desire for both men had grown to the point where they were all you could think about. No porn quelled your appetite; no erotic novels brought you relief from the deep-seated desire that throbbed deep in your core and refused to leave for hours at a time. Honestly, you felt like it was driving you insane. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost swear the two men sent you into some kind of feral heat because you were always obscenely wet every night, nearly sobbing in frustration as your pussy begged for something more than your own fingers.

You’d tried overstimulation, erotic ASMR, vibrators, plugs, and even lube meant to replicate cum… literally everything you could think of. You tried to stuff your aching cunt full of every toy imaginable, desperate to find some relief, but nothing truly worked. Sure, you’d eventually orgasm, but it was never as satisfying as you needed it to be, and it did nothing to sate your desire. If anything, it was like only being able to swat at an itch instead of scratching it outright.

Tonight was even worse than usual; the way Nanami and Higuruma had been so protective of you earlier had only added fuel to the fire. You clenched your thighs together in sheer desperation as you slid into bed and slipped your hand underneath the waistband of your—no, Nanami’s—sweatpants with a whimper.

“Both of us care for you…. We want to spoil you….”

Their earlier words rang in your ears as you slid a finger through your folds teasingly, biting the swell of your lower lip to stifle the next pitiful whine that escaped. Your poor little clit was already throbbing, so puffy and sensitive that you had to turn over and bury your face into the pillow as you circled it with your fingers. The men you had fantasized about for so long were literally on either side of you as you touched yourself to thoughts of them, and you could only pray that you were being quiet enough-

There was a single, sharp knock on the door before it cracked open, catching you right at the moment your fingers slid into your soaked cunt.

You could hear Hiromi’s muffled voice, his tone urgent as he asked, “Are you okay? We heard you cry- oh.”

Two sets of footsteps entered the room and approached you on the bed as you slipped your hand out from between your legs, threw the sheet over your head, and prayed to somehow evaporate on the spot.

“Is there something you want to tell us, sweetheart?” Nanami rasped, voice low and thick with barely restrained lust.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy,” Hiromi purred, drawing another whimper from your lips. “We want to help you.”

You babbled an incoherent mess of words into the pillow, and Nanami slowly pulled the sheet back from your body. He hooked a thick finger under your jaw, gently pulling your face away from the pillow.

“Need you to use your words for us, darling.” The blonde man murmured.

“‘M so sorry… just need it so bad. Please, I need you both.” You sobbed shamefully, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together in desperation.

Something instantly snapped in both men. You felt the bed dip behind you as Nanami crouched down to pull you into a searing kiss. Hiromi slotted himself between your legs, pulling them apart, and you whined desperately against Nanami’s lips as the man between your legs pressed his gorgeous, hooked nose directly against your still-clothed cunt.

Higuruma inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the scent of your arousal as he growled and cursed under his breath, “Fuck, she’s so goddamn wet already.”

Nanami sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth as you moaned again, completely lost in your desire. Hiromi licked greedily at the damp patch of fabric that separated his hot mouth from your cunt, shoving his face even further in between your legs like he intended to devour you through the fabric of Nanami’s sweatpants.

“Ngh, ‘Romi,” You whined against Nanami’s lips as you kissed him sloppily, drawing a deep chuckle from the blonde.

“What about me, hmmm?” He teased. “If he gets to taste your pretty little pussy, what do I get?

Nanami trailed his lips across your jaw and down the corner of your neck, licking and biting at your pulse point before making his way up to coo against the shell of your ear, “I think I have an idea.”

You had never been so aroused in your entire life. All you could do was lay there as Nanami stepped away to undress, and Hiromi pulled you backward. He ripped off your clothes and coaxed you to your hands and knees, stroking your back and sides and whispering hoarse praises as you forced your jelly-like limbs to support the weight of your body.

As soon as you had all four limbs solidly planted on the bed, Hiromi’s patience snapped, and he lurched forward, sinking his tongue into your dripping cunt. The lawyer moaned shamelessly against your folds as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your labia before reaching forward to stimulate your puffy little clit.

“Kento, she tastes so fucking good.” He groaned, leaning back to kiss and nip at the pillowy, soft skin of your inner thighs. You shook above him, back arched in pure hedonistic bliss as Higuruma devoured you like a man starved.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Hiromi wrapped his hands around your hipbones, encouraging you to thrust back against his eager mouth. Nanami groaned at the sight of the raven-haired man devouring you as he returned to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and your eyes fluttered open again. Suddenly, you were treated to the sight of the tall, blonde man completely nude and kneeling in front of you.

Moonlight shone through the window, once again illuminating Nanami Kento's form, and your mouth went bone-dry. Sure, you had noticed how broad his chest was and how his suit jacket clung to his form, but now you could watch the way his muscles rippled and flexed with every move. Certainly, nothing had prepared you for the massive, golden dragon proudly inked over his entire right arm. It started at his wrist, wrapping up and around his shoulder to bare its fangs in a ferocious snarl across his pectoral. Your gaze trailed further down, past defined abdominal muscles to where his erection stood proudly against his belly. It was certainly larger than average, but what stood out the most was how thick his erect cock was.

You whimpered, and your cunt throbbed around Hiromi’s tongue as your gaze traveled to the swollen tip that was already starting to leak pre-cum. The raven-haired lawyer pulled back from your thighs, chuckling hoarsely, “I think our pretty baby likes what she sees, Kento. You should’ve felt the way she just squeezed me like a damn vice.”

Nanami’s large hand cupped your jaw, stroking it with his thumb as he leaned down and pulled you forward into another bruising kiss. In doing so, he accidentally pulled you forward and away from Hiromi’s mouth, causing him to growl in displeasure.

“Don’t worry, we’ll learn to share,” Nanami whispered against your lips, trailing his hand down to palm your tender breasts. “Are you going to let me feel that pretty mouth, sweetheart?”

“Please…. Wanna taste you.” You nodded rapidly, already almost salivating in anticipation as the golden-haired man rose and shifted his hips forward. Without any further encouragement, you licked his swollen tip, swirling your tongue around it to taste the heady musk of his pre-cum. His thick cock twitched, and Nanami groaned your name softly, guiding his shaft towards your plush, kiss-swollen lips with one of his hands.

You greedily sucked the thick tip into your mouth with an audible pop as Higuruma continued to torture you with his tongue and clever fingers, still completely drunk on your taste. Nanami cupped your cheek with one of his large hands before moving that same hand into your hair, entwining his fingers with the strands. From the look of intense concentration on his face and the way his abdomen twitched, you could easily tell that he was fighting the desire to sheath his cock in your throat all at once.

“Fuck, sweetheart…. you have such a perfect mouth,” Nanami groaned hoarsely, reflexively tightening his grip on your hair.

You moaned around his cock in response, causing even more of the thick shaft to slide in.

“Perfect, hah, beautiful…. Divine.” He growled more praises as you slowly took more and more of him until, finally, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse, honey-blonde hairs that trailed up from the base of his cock.

You had never felt so perfectly and deliciously used as Nanami began to thrust his hips shallowly, sliding his thick cock in and out of your throat. Hiromi’s clever fingers kept circling your engorged clit in the most delicious way, and you launched higher and higher into ecstasy between the two men.

The band of pleasure in your stomach began to tighten uncontrollably, causing you to moan and drool even more. You could actually hear how aroused you were as Hiromi drilled his fingers into your soaked cunt, easily rubbing against the spongy spot that had you whining like a bitch in heat.

“Please cum, baby. Need to feel you cum.” Hiromi groaned reverently, almost like he was praying. He reached down to squeeze the base of his own cock hard, trying to keep from cumming in his pants.

“You're doing so well for us. Please, sweetheart.” Nanami joined in as his thrusts became shaky.

You wanted to tell them that you would, that you were trying, and that you were so close to the best orgasm you’ve ever had…. but you didn’t even get to finish the thought before your bliss hit you like a falling star, sending you shattering over the edge into hedonistic oblivion.

You cried out around Nanami’s cock, soaking Hiromi’s face in your arousal as your orgasm was ripped out of you. A shaky curse tumbled from Nanami’s lips as he felt his swollen balls clench hard. As if you’d started a chain reaction, thick ropes of his cum filled your throat, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Higuruma’s hoarse cry as you greedily swallowed every last drop of Kento’s cum.

After a few minutes passed, Nanami gently pulled you off of his softening length. He held you against his broad chest, pressing reverent kisses to the top of your head and whispering praises against your skin. Hiromi remained pressed against the mattress for another moment, left completely spent from his own unexpected orgasm, but eventually, he slid up behind you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades.

“Beautiful girl, you did so well for us,” He murmured hoarsely, allowing you to slide into his arms as Nanami passed you over and slid out of bed to run the three of you a bath.

You looked at him with eyes half-lidded in complete exhaustion. “‘Romi, didn’t get to make you feel good,” you fretted.

“Oh, but you did,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to each of your eyelids. “You tasted so good that I came in my damn pants like a teenager.”

—

After that night, you rarely went more than two days without warming the bed of one or both men. True to Nanami’s word, he and Hiromi spoiled you rotten with anything you could ever want, and both men quickly became excellent at sharing you. You lightened up their lives in a way that did not go unnoticed by those around them, but the three of you hadn’t yet discussed what would happen with your relationship when you were entirely safe and able to return to the city. The uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind for a few weeks, and you finally decided to ask the two men.

A few nights after you’d made up your mind, the opportunity to ask presented itself when the three of you went to the onsen late at night. Both Nanami and Hiromi used the spa and the attached bathing facilities almost religiously, finding it an excellent way to relax from the stress of their day. Like other Yakuza, their tattoos barred them from entering any public bathhouse, so they simply built their own far away from prying eyes.

“Ken, Hiromi, I’ve got a question for the two of you,” You murmured, slipping into the warm water of the sizeable, man-made hot spring.

Higuruma chuckled, pulling you close to nibble the shell of your ear playfully. “This could be trouble,” he teased, passing you to Nanami, who chose to press a soft, affectionate kiss to your cheek.

You smiled at the two men, lightly smacking Hiromi’s arm for the quip. He growled at you playfully, surging forward to chase you around the small pool. Eventually, he caught you and tossed you over his lithely muscular back like a sack of potatoes, giving you a perfect view of the black, swirling Oni mask tattooed across his skin.

He returned you to your rightful place between him and Nanami as the blonde man scoffed at him, although both of you knew the stern dragon secretly loved your antics.

“You were saying, sweetheart?” Kento asked pointedly.

“Mhhmmm,” you nodded slowly, “I… I wanted to know what’s going to happen when it’s time for me to return to the city.”

Both men looked at each other pointedly, just as they had on the night your relationship actually began.

“Well, we’ve been discussing that, actually,” Hiromi started with a small smile. “Kento and I have concluded that it’ll be beneficial for the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai to officially rejoin forces.”

You stared at them blankly, “That’s good… I think?”

“Yes, it is,” Nanami murmured smoothly. “Funnily enough, we both seemed to conclude that most important alliances are forged through marriage.”

“And we aren’t planning on marrying each other, so, naturally, the best option would be to find a willing third party to act as a proxy.” Higuruma grinned at you.

Tears of joy pricked at your eyes, “You know…. if you’re asking me to marry you, you may want to ask in slightly less legal terms.”

Nanami slid up behind you, pulling you back against his muscular chest. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder reverently, cradling your body as if you were the most precious jewel.“Then allow me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Hiromi grew more serious, but his smile never faded as he knelt in the water in front of you and cupped your hand in his, “And I would also like to ask for your hand in marriage. Let us make you the happiest woman in the world, darling.”

You pulled both men in to embrace you as tears of pure happiness rolled down your cheeks, splashing into the steaming water. “I love you both so much.”

Nanami and Hiromi wound their arms around you, completely interlocking your body with theirs.

“There’s one more thing you’ll need to know, love,” Nanami murmured next to your ear.

“Oh?” You purred.

“If you agree to marry us, there’s a certain…. competition we will need your help with.”

“And what would that be?” You asked curiously, glancing between the two men.

Nanami gently reached his hand to trail over your lower stomach, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what they were about to ask.

“We want you to give both of us children, darling,” Hiromi husked, roaming his hands over your body, “But instead of planning who will go first… we want it to be a surprise.”

“You want to see who can get me pregnant first?” You asked in a daze. Both men inhaled deeply at your words, and you could feel them start to harden against you almost instantly.

“We’ve both seen the way you dote on the babies who visited the cafe… and the way you look at baby videos on your phone with that soft little smile on your face,” Nanami murmured, “Yuji could use a sibling or two… Just say the word, and we’ll give you a baby of your very own.”

Your face flushed hotly at the idea of growing round and full with their children, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. The three of you could likely fill this spacious mountain mansion with children, and you knew that Hiromi and Kento would make the perfect fathers. They both knew when to be stern versus caring, and they’d protect their family with their lives if needed.

“Fuck, you’ll be such a pretty mommy,” Hiromi groaned, palming the swell of your breasts in the water. “We’ll get to see these all full and heavy…”

“If I say yes…. Can we start now?” You ask breathlessly, drawing a hoarse laugh from Nanami and a pleased grin from Higurumua.

“I think it’d be a shame to waste any time,” Kento said, picking you up bridal-style and carrying you from the pool deck with Hiromi hot on his heels.

–

In no time at all, you were lying on your back in Nanami’s spacious bed with both of your future husbands hell-bent on bringing you to the pinnacle of bliss. You’d already cum twice, and now Kento was sprawled out between your legs with your knees hooked over his shoulders, softly lapping at your clit as Hiromi kneaded your breasts with his clever fingers. Every so often, the lawyer leaned down to pop one of your hardened nipples into his hot mouth, sucking on the bud until you cried out.

“Ken… ‘Romi, nnngh, it feels so good….. too much,” You whined desperately at the blissful almost-pain of overstimulation.

“C’mon, baby. Make another mess for us, yeah?” Hiromi begged shamelessly, leaning up to kiss you deeply. He swirled his tongue into your mouth at the same time Nanami swiped his tongue across your clit, and you saw stars, wantonly moaning into the kiss.

Nanami repeated the movement with his tongue, and your hips bucked off the bed, but the strong man simply pinned you back down with a growl that made your clit throb.

“Darling, darling, fuck- so beautiful. You can do it,” The raven-haired man praised you desperately, and your back arched off the bed as your clit throbbed pitifully. Every nerve ending in your body lit up at once as your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to shudder between the two men.

Nanami pushed himself off the bed and back onto his knees as he wiped the visible traces of your arousal from his chin and licked them from his fingers, smiling down at you in a manner that made you shiver with anticipation.

“We’re going to fill you up now, darling,” he purred roughly, “One of us is about to get you pregnant, so what do you say?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you mumbled over and over as Hiromi turned you over and laid you against his chest, making sure your legs were hooked over his. He palmed his erection between your legs, using his fingers to coat his thick shaft with your arousal before slowly sliding you down onto his length.

You moaned in tandem with the raven-haired lawyer as he bottomed out inside you. He was only slightly less thick than Nanami, but his cock was beautifully long. The swollen tip greedily rubbed against your cervix, almost pleading for it to accept his babies as Hiromi tipped his head back, panting heavily. You had to claw at the sheets on either side of him to keep from moving your hips.

“C’mon, Ken… ‘s not easy to stay still.” Hiromi groaned.

Nanami chuckled roughly, positioning himself behind you and threading his legs over Higuruma’s but under yours. “Baby, do you remember the word if we need to stop?”

You nodded frantically. “Please… I remember; just please, Ken.”

With another long groan, Nanami positioned his swollen cock next to Hiromi’s, doused himself with lube, and very slowly began to push in. At first, it felt as if you were being completely split in half by the two men. You were well past properly aroused, but the intense stretch of taking two thick cocks at once simply took time. Fortunately, both men were more than willing to be patient.

“Good fucking girl,” Kento moaned as he finally sank all the way in, his balls resting against your plush ass and his cock nestled directly on top of Hiromi’s as they took you at the same time. You sobbed against the dark-haired man’s chest, and he cursed loudly in return; the pressure and heat and delicious friction were almost too much for everyone involved to last any proper amount of time.

Nanami began to slowly thrust in and out of your core, which was now soaked with a hedonistic mixture of your cum, a generous amount of lube, and the pre-cum from both men. Every thrust sent him rubbing against Hiromi’s cock, creating delicious friction for both men and giving you the overwhelming feeling of being obscenely full.

Miraculously, the three of you managed to last another three minutes before you came unbelievably hard, convulsing between the two men as your vision turned white. As soon as your core began to flutter around Hiromi and Kento, both men were gone. They each came with a hoarse cry, painting your womb white with their combined seed as your cunt greedily milked it from their swollen balls.

Eventually, the two men slowly recovered their senses, but you were still absolutely floating. Hiromi pulled out of you first, motioning to Nanami to keep their cum tucked safely inside you. The blonde did so happily, gently keeping you plugged with his cock and fingers until the other man returned with enough clean pillows to prop your hips up properly. After sorting out your positioning, they quickly cleaned themselves off and returned to your side, ready to spoil completely rotten you once you woke up.

“Oh, and may the best man win.” Hiromi lazily jabbed at Kento, who simply scoffed with his own satisfied grin.

“The way I see it, we both already won.”

Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine @mischiefmanaged71 @galactict3a @dreahmdere @mirrors-musings

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months

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Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Kusakabe Atsuy & Choso

are the men you need to fuck the stress out of so they'll finally unwind and fucking relax for once.

And 👏 I 👏 will 👏 happily 👏 volunteer 👏👏

A/n: it is now 3:30am....i should be asleep

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puppykento · 1 month

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higuruma is a munch :3 - hiromi x fem!reader [drabble]

a/n: i am so normal about him... and his nose ahahaha

cw: 18+ content, oral(f!recieving), multiple orgasms, mentions of p in v and creampie

After a hard day at work, there's nothing Hiromi wants more than to bury his face in between your thighs. He's not ashamed how much he enjoys it - he loves the way your hips buck up into his face, and your hands grip and tug at his hair. The only thing that can make the tension drain from his body from hour after hour of dealing with clients is to be buried face first into your needy cunt.

He's already got his head between your thighs before he's even got his blazer off, kneeling at the floor by your feet as you sit on the edge of your bed. He shucks his suit jacket off once his tongue dips into your slit, gathering the slick that spills from your drippy hole. One hand remains firmly on your thighs as he moves to untie his tie with the other, slipping it lose and popping a few buttons of his shirt.

Once he finally feels like he's free to eat you out to his heart's content, he's looping his arms around your thighs and tugging you towards his face. His nose bumps against your clit every time he dips his tongue into you, greedily slurping up your juices. He moans as you cum on his tongue, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through your system.

Hiromi loves you, but he eats your pussy for himself. One orgasm isn't enough for him. He wants to hear your pretty cries, see the tears build up in your waterline. He peers up at you through his lashes as his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, keeping them spread as he continues to fuck your cunt with his tongue while grinding his nose against your swollen bud. His cock is achy and straining against the fabric of his suit pants, but he hardly even notices with all his focus on you.

He doesn't stop until he's fully satisfied, until you're trembling and screaming his name with every flick of his tongue. Only then would he finally free his cock and pound you into the mattress like you deserve, stuffing you full of his cum. Finally, Hiromi's found a way to unwind after work.

#nyx drabbles☆#higuruma♡#hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x you #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you

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threadbaresweater · 4 months

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Sparks don't fly the first time you kiss Hiromi.

The first few times, in fact, his kisses are less than mind-blowing. They're nice. They're chaste and sweet and a little bit clumsy, and you think to yourself, wow, he's so nice for not trying to shove his tongue down my throat.

It takes a little while for you to feel any sort of physical response when he's around. It's not that you don't find him attractive. You do- he's handsome in a classic– if not a little offbeat– kind of way. He's a little too loud, a little too talkative, a little too fond of his liquor. He's hilarious and smart, and your face hurts when you're around him because you smile and laugh so much.

And he's not so stupid that he doesn't notice when you pretend to be awestruck from one of his kisses.

"Am I doing it wrong?" he asks, his hand splayed across your cheek, those fathomless brown eyes searching your expression. His lips are shiny, stained a little with the transfer of your lipstick. The purple crescents of fatigue under his eyes are more prominent when you're this close.

You show him a smile and feel your face grow warm. "Doing what wrong?" you demure, tucking your bottom lip under your teeth.

He's quick to thumb your lip so that it pops away from your bite. And when he smiles, there's a fever to it. "Don't play coy. You know what I mean."

You tear your gaze away from him, studying the pattern in the tile floor at your feet. "I just don't–" you sigh. "There's no spark. No chemistry, you know? I don't get–"

You're cut off when he closes the already miniscule distance between you, lips barely brushing yours. He hovers, he breathes. You can taste the whiskey on his breath, and you know he must taste the wine you've been drinking just the same. He's so close you could count his eyelashes, so close that the tip of his nose butts against yours almost uncomfortably. His fingers press into your waist and you gasp as he pulls you flush against him.

"Then let me try again, won't you?"

#higuruma hiromi x you #just. thoughts...

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tsukimefuku · 18 days

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old regrets and guilt ridden pasts ꕥ higuruma hiromi

this part → part 2 → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you and hiromi are sent out on a mission to exorcize a strong curse at an abandoned hospital. as hiromi has to use his domain to strip you from your cursed technique, things start to go downhill.

tags: +18!, starts out with an explicit! sex scene, some smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, mentions of death, grief, yuuji and nanami make an appearance, implied past nanami x reader, overall angst, fluff, hurt + comfort.

wc: 3.9k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. written to the sound of nothing in my way (keane). as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

The day had been pleasant. You and Hiromi shared a lazy Sunday with no missions or jujutsu sorcery whatsoever, watched a few movies on TV, talked and spent time together. He tried teaching you principles of criminal law, but you understood virtually nothing.

After a few glasses of wine, though, your hand wound up on his thighs, his lips on your neck, and well, here you were.

You were splayed in front of him, propping up your body with your arms, and his abdomen was pressed sweaty against your back, as he rolled himself into you. Hiromi had one hand on your thigh, and the other supported him over your trembling body.

"Ah, Hiro-" you gasped, in between mewls and moans, turning your chin over your shoulder, just so you could ask him to move, making it easier for you to come undone over him.

He huffed, warm, humid breath pressed against the hair in the back of your neck, as he answered with a husky voice, "yes, my love?"

He had called you that once or twice before, but this time, it swirled and tangled itself around you like divine rope, drowning you in molasses. The request you had lingering went straight to the back of your mind, as you moaned to the sound of his gravely, breathless voice calling you 'my love'.

"Call me that again," you pleaded, whimpering, while you felt him brushing against the deepest parts of you.

"Ah, my love..." Hiromi repeated, an audible smile while he spoke, nuzzling his gorgeous hooked nose behind your neck as he planted wet kisses wherever his lips passed. "My love, my love, my love…" His mouth traveled to the back of your shoulder, and you lifted your head to moan his name, shivers prickling on the roots of every hair in your body.

He kept cooing my love against you until his speech became nothing but incoherent mumbling against your bare, sensitive skin.

Before you noticed, his hand, previously on your thigh, descended to rub you as he approached his own release, and upon the pressure from his digits on you, already sensitive by then, you let out a strained moan of his name.

Hiromi came with a watery groan, having you tip over the edge some time after, letting out a last cry for him.

As you were navigating your euphoric ecstasy, trying to keep the comedown at bay for a few moments longer, both falling to the side with him pulling your body closer, you felt him whispering against your locks.

Even though you couldn't be sure about it, you thought you heard Hiromi say I love you.

***

"I have to go," he said, playfully trying to untangle your arms from his waist, kissing your cheek with the sultry smell of fresh black coffee breath. You were both in your balcony, the breakfast plates empty over the only chair you had, and you giggled and kissed his jawline insistently.

"Why do you have to go?" You asked, parting slightly to look at Hiromi. As he looked back at you, you formed a pout with your lower lip, and he smiled, planting a quick kiss on your mouth.

"Because I have to water the sunflower you gave me," he replied, lovingly.

"Why don’t you just bring your sunflower here? You basically sleep here the entire week now. You should bring some clothes too, and other things you might need" you replied, liberating his waist from your tight grip on his body, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Then you realized what that sounded like.

He also did.

"Are you... Asking me to move in with you?" He questioned, and you instantly blushed, red wash covering your cheeks.

"I... Just bring the sunflower already. I-" you stuttered, "just don't want you to leave every single morning to take care of it and change into clean clothes."

Hiromi put both of his hands on your shoulders and smiled fondly. "I will, I promise," he answered, as he kissed your forehead with a feathery touch. You smiled at him, and let your arms down, aligning his tie with the tips of your fingers. At that, he sighed contently.

It was then that you remembered what you thought you heard last night.

"Hey, Hiromi..." you began.

"Yes, my love?" He replied, sugary tone as he brought one of his hands up to caress your cheek.

You quivered to the sound of that, just like you did the night before.

"Yesterday, after we..." you cleared your throat, feeling a faint sense of trepidation creeping over you, "did you whisper or say anything? I mean, I thought I heard something."

He widened his eyes a little, and you could swear his face had become a light peachy pink. You kept silent, waiting for an answer, and his mouth opened, without a sound coming from it, as he blinked mindlessly thinking of anything to say.

Words failed him, hard.

Then, your phone rang.

You cursed internally at the interruption, sighing deeply.

Grasping at it with the tips of your fingers, you pulled the thing out of your pocket, seeing Gojo's name lit up on the screen.

Pressing the green icon, you said, "yes, Satoru? I was kind of in the middle of something."

"Hey!" His whimsical voice echoed through your ear. "So, we have a mission for you and Higuruma, and I'd like to ask for you to take Yuuji along."

"Oh, okay, no problem. What is it?"

"There's apparently a Grade 1 curse in a closed-down hospital, just by the outskirts of Tokyo. You or Higuruma alone would suffice, but I want Yuuji to train coordinating himself with other sorcerers in the field, so the more, the merrier! Also, you are both great at it, so he might actually learn a thing or two."

You smiled, noticing how this enthusiasm wasn't purely a facade. Gojo had been slowly — but surely — been chipping away at his frivolous-smile persona, and it became evident in how he sounded genuinely thrilled when talking about his students.

"Okay! I'll be delighted to have him tagging along."

"Alright, then!"

You hung up, and darted your eyes to Higuruma, that seemed curious about your call.

"We have a mission together. Just let me get ready" you stated, and he hoped for a second that you had forgotten the question you made moments before the phone rang.

You hadn't.

***

"Nitta, we'll be right back! Please, take care. This area seems kind of shady" you said, as you, Higuruma and Yuuji stepped outside the car.

The blonde woman turned her head to smile at you, giving you a thumbs up. "No worries. Also, I'm bringing the veil down right after you go inside. Even if we're a little far from the huzz buzz of Tokyo, it's better to be safe than sorry."

You nodded. "Great. Thank you, Nitta."

After closing the doors, the three of you began walking towards the hospital. It was a considerably big structure, and seemed to be closed off for at least a few years, with the unforgiving weather weaving black cracks of mold across the sleeping giant’s facade.

"So, are you excited?" You asked, turning your head to look at Yuuji. He looked back at you, big puppy eyes flickering with anticipation.

"Yes!" He chirped, opening a wide smile. "I really want to see you and Mr. Higuruma fighting together on the field, I heard you two are mad strong working together."

Barely before Hiromi began taking missions on his own, and after working together for some time, you both became something of a legendary duo for having exorcized a particularly strong special grade curse side by side in a sequence of black flashes — you both had dealt three black flashes each.

Hiromi silently smiled, gazing at you, and after noticing it, you couldn't help but blush a little bit. You shook your head softly, and breathed deeply to ease yourself back into professional mode.

"So, Yuuji-kun," you began, enunciating every syllable separately.

"Yes, sensei?" He replied, imitating your cadence.

"Let's have a quick run through on cursed spirits again, shall we?"

"Okay!"

"So, why do you think a strong cursed spirit manifested here, inside a closed off hospital?" You quizzed.

"Because cursed spirits manifest due to negative emotions, and places like hospitals, cemeteries and such pool a lot of those" He answered.

"Good! But this hospital has been closed off for a while, so what do you think could've happened for a cursed spirit to manifest here currently?"

"There are two options. First, it took some time for the negative energy to concentrate enough for it to appear," he began, "and the second is that this spirit had already been exorcized, but after a while, it respawned."

"Yes, yes, good," you answered, nodding, trying to keep a straight face to mask the proud feeling. "But there is a third option!"

"Oh, is there?" He inquired, whipping his head in your direction.

"Yes! If this is an almost special grade curse, like some we all have faced in the past, then it could've spawned elsewhere and come here out of its own volition" you completed, finger extended up beside your face to make your point.

"Oh, true!" He replied.

"So, which one do you both think it is?" Hiromi asked, as he mindlessly swirled his gavel around his fingers, the crunch of leaves and dirt under your feet filling the air.

As the three of you entered what you liked to call the invisible cloud, the point where the energy emanated by the cursed spirit around its area seemed to hit like a whiff of strong air, similar to the forming winds of a tornado, you sighed, putting your hands in your pockets.

"It's strong, but not that strong. I'd place my bets on the first or second options."

***

"There is no time to argue, Hiromi, I need to go in there with Yuuji and I need you to use your domain on me!"

The curse had its own kind of veil, from what you all could tell, and the only people allowed inside were those who apparently had no innate cursed technique. Yuuji easily peered his hand inside its realm, and so did Nitta, apart from her protests of being used as a lab rat.

"Judgeman can pick any random crime to judge, I have no say in that" he hesitantly answered. "It can be a serious offense, worthy of the death penalty. I'd just like to avoid that happening" he concluded, voice simmering with hesitancy hitting the back of his throat.

"I'm not a contumacious criminal, and you can go easy on me when it's your time to speak. Come on. We can do this!" You tried reassuring him, one hand planted to each of his shoulders. "I can't let Yuuji go in there alone, I'm responsible for him. He's my student, and a teenager."

"You sound just like Nanamin" Yuuji complained more to himself than anyone else, crossing his arms on his chest, still mumbling. I'm not a kid.

"Hiromi, please."

He sighed deeply before nodding.

"Itadori, I'll need you to step behind."

The boy acquiesced and distanced himself, as the other sorcerer stepped his way into your direction and expanded his domain, drawing you in.

No matter how many times you got pulled into other sorcerer's domains, going in was always a jarring and disorienting experience, overall.

In a few short moments, you and Hiromi were standing facing each other, and you sighed deeply at the sight of that shikigami, remembering that the last time you saw it, the thing gave you one hell of a headache.

Or better, it and Hiromi did, when he was still a curse user.

"Fine, let's go on with this" you stated, getting ready to hear yet another possible (or not) misdemeanor or unknown crime you might've committed.

But you weren't ready for the words that left the shikigami's mouth.

"February 24th, 2008."

That date.

"Odate City, Akita Prefecture."

Oh, no.

Your eyes widened in panic, and Hiromi saw it.

You could visualize his lips moving, he was talking to you. Perhaps asking if you were alright.

However, you heard nothing.

"You stand accused of homicide against-"

You didn't need to hear the rest.

"I confess. I killed him."

Whatever Hiromi was speaking suddenly drowned in his chest. You looked at him, and he tried futilely holding your faltering gaze to ask you what the hell was going on, shocked eyes wide open, but you just crawled your way back inside your head, desperately wishing for this fucking day to be immediately over.

"Confiscation! Death penalty!" The creature shouted, before dissipating away.

That little shit.

And then… It all happened in a split second.

Hiromi saw the Executioner's Sword in his hand. Yuuji began asking what the hell is going on under bated, preoccupied and terrified breath. You nearly lost your balance before coming back to your senses.

Hiromi immediately dispelled his technique, feeling equal parts mortified and disgusted to be holding that against you.

"Why did you-" the former lawyer began, extending his hand your way.

You flinched away, eyes glued to the ground.

"Not now. I have to go in with Yuuji and finish exorcizing this curse."

"My lo… Please" Hiromi pleaded, before exhaling slowly. "Be careful."

"I will."

***

Hiromi sat beside you, as Yuuji looked worried from afar, since you were never one to be so unbearably quiet and aloof.

The sorcerer knew you were finding it incredibly hard to speak right now, and when everyone got back to Jujutsu High, all you did was sit at the base of the stairs, not uttering a single sound, and not following them when they began walking upstairs.

Hiromi stayed quiet, gazing at you, and held your hand to see if you'd react.

You didn't move, frozen in your spot, feelings hurricaning inside you like a blizzard. You feared that, if you moved, even a single inch, you'd come crumbling down.

"My love, please, talk to me."

You couldn't do anything other than shake your head.

You just couldn't.

Hell, breathing was barely manageable under the broken dam of painful memories flooding your mind all at once.

Hiromi sighed, ever so patient, aware of what he had to do. He didn't particularly appreciate the idea, but it was his only option then.

"Tell me the truth" he began, "is it me that you need by your side right now?" Hiromi asked, earnestly.

Your lips trembled for a moment, your jaw clenched, and you searched for the strength to find your voice again. When you did, you felt horrible for what you knew you were about to say, but you chose to honor your promise to Hiromi — always tell him the truth, even when it hurt.

Truth is, you had never told him about your brother and all that happened at Odate, and right now, you knew you couldn't muster up the strength to explain it all to him. It would be necessary to make Hiromi understand the depths of the emotional struggles that had been at stake ever since his shikigami bestowed upon you the death penalty.

Only one person could talk you through this.

"No, it’s not."

He resigned, feeling the words piercing him like needles. The sorcerer was aware that he had to talk to you about it, but decided to do it at a later time.

At that very moment, he knew what you needed to talk about, and Nanami was the only person you'd speak to.

Hiromi got on his feet and walked towards Yuuji.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The boy asked, genuinely concerned.

"Itadori, can you please call Nanami? Tell him it's important, that it's about her, and ask him to come" Hiromi stated.

Yuuji nodded and pulled his phone, immediately starting to dial.

After the call, Hiromi asked if you wanted to be alone, to which you nodded. He and Yuuji walked upstairs as you waited — for Nanami or for this feeling to go away, whatever happened first.

Some time passed before a car stopped in front of you.

As Nanami got out of it, he looked at you, and you had a completely defeated look on your face as you were still sitting on the same spot ever since you got there an hour prior.

He closed the door behind him and made his way towards you, steady stride taking him to meet you at the steps, as he, himself, descended, sitting by your side. He didn't glance at you, choosing to look at the sky after removing his glasses, putting them inside his blazer's pocket, and waited patiently.

Nanami had done this many times before, and knew you usually only needed some peace, quiet and space in order to begin spilling your ruminations and thoughts all over his ears.

With a sigh, you began.

"I got sentenced to death today for killing my brother. Wonderful day."

Nanami was instantly taken aback, not grasping what you were on about.

"Could you please clarify?"

You shuffled uncomfortably.

"We were fighting a curse, and long story short, only people without innate cursed techniques could enter its own brand of veil in order to fight it. I asked Hiromi to use his domain on me, so that Itadori wouldn't go in alone, and I was tried for my brother's death."

The sorcerer had some knowledge as to how Higuruma's domain worked, and it still didn't make sense to him. He knew that Higuruma didn't pick the crime to be tried, as it was chosen at random by his shikigami, and also knew there were two possible different penalties, confiscation and death sentence, the second reserved for the most serious of cases, which granted Higuruma the executioner's sword.

He also remembered very distinctly how your brother died, and knew for a fact that you weren't culpable for his death.

"I apologize, but I still don't understand how that could've happened" he proceeded.

"I..." you stuttered, "I confessed."

Oh.

"Why did you confess?" Nanami asked, voice lowering softly.

You looked at him, and in an instant diverted your gaze back to the ground.

"He died because of me, to save me. He sacrificed himself in a gamble for me to live."

"That doesn't make you culpable" he answered, his voice a mixture of empathetic and objective.

"Why not? He's still dead, and I'm still the reason he died."

You leaned your arms to hug your knees shortly after you said that, physically holding your pieces together.

“You're aware he’d wish you to be happy and at peace after he was gone, right?” Nanami asked.

“And that’s the worst part!” You let out, now finally choked on tears that wouldn't come, allowing your fragments to burst at the seams.

Relief, however, was slow to come, and your chest still was tight around your heavy heart.

Nanami was surprised at your response, and remained silent, so that you had the time you needed to elaborate on your feelings.

"I… I know he’d want me to be happy, so now I don’t just feel sad for his departure, but I feel guilty for not being able to fulfill his wish, to just be happy after his death."

You sighed tightly, trying to air out that wrenching sensation. It didn't work.

"I feel guilty for not being able to fulfill his dying wish. It's like... I failed him in every single way imaginable."

Nanami gave it a pause before he spoke again.

"I understand."

"You... do? I'm not crazy for feeling like that?" You inquired, looking at him.

Nanami shook his head. "No. Navigating grief is a hard challenge, and it can show itself in many ways, often nonsensical."

"I can't imagine how people deal with grief without undoing themselves every time they have to face it" you blurted out.

Looking at you, his eyes softened, as he said, "sometimes, they end up undoing other people in the process."

That caught your attention, and you looked back at him.

With half a mind to distract yourself from the pain regarding the loss of your twin, you unconsciously decided to poke at another kind of ache, one that you hadn't touched upon ever since you and the sorcerer in front of you had defeated the Lover's Pass curse.

"Kento, why-" you halted for a brief second. "Can I call you Kento?"

He smiled so discreetly you nearly missed it. "Yes."

Acclimating yourself to it, you proceeded.

"Kento, why did you shove me away like that after we spent a night together?" You asked him, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer to that question.

Nanami sighed and looked down for a while before he answered you.

"I was... Frightened."

That definitely took you unexpectedly, and you looked at him puzzled.

"Of what?"

"Dying and leaving you behind."

He sighed before allowing himself to proceed.

"No, that's not all of it."

Nanami took a few seconds to muster up the courage to admit the not-so noble part of his reasoning for doing what he'd done.

"I was afraid of the pain I'd endure if you died, too."

"Afraid of me dying? That was your reason?" You felt genuinely confused. "Why was that even a reason to push me away? This is a risk just as much now. I'm still a jujutsu sorcerer, you know."

"Yu Haibara" was everything he could say, involuntarily pinching the bridge of his nose, impassive face concealing the sting of pain that came from the depths of his past.

"Your friend?"

You remembered when Nanami told you about the mission where his partner died. How they were both chased by the town's people that treated the curse like a deity, how Haibara was fatally wounded, and how Nanami helplessly tried to flee taking Haibara with him, unable to do a single thing to save his best friend's life.

"Yes. At the time, I had only met a few older sorcerers who died in the field, and dying while on a mission myself felt somewhat like a foreign concept to me. I was young and just saw it as an abstract possibility of being a jujutsu sorcerer" Kento said. You waited quietly for him to proceed, collecting his thoughts.

"When he died, I felt his death deeper than any other that had happened up until that point," Nanami began, now turning his eyes to look at you as he said his next words, "and when I failed your mission years ago, it felt quite like the same. That distinct sense of helplessness and failure."

You were both silent for a moment, letting it all hang in the air.

"I thought that if I kept my distance, and something happened to either of us, it wouldn't hurt so profoundly for me or for you" he concluded.

Upon hearing that, you shook your head and looked away, smiling bitterly and incredulous.

"Well, that's just stupid."

He huffed, with a regretful, quitted expression on his face. "Yes, I know that now. But it seemed to make sense then."

After a few moments, gentle and polite, Kento got up and offered you his hand.

You took it and lifted yourself with his help, feeling like his unwavering serenity could somehow be passed over to you from that brief contact alone.

"Thank you" you murmured, nearly whispering.

"Whenever you need my assistance" he answered, fondly.

It felt like the film that had been suffocating you ever since you stepped out of Hiromi's domain was finally removed, and you could breathe in peace again.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass @redlikerozez

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 29 days

Text

Higuruma Thoughts Pt. 2

Image credit : https://www.pinterest.com/LaoGiaHoTuoc/

A/N: For the lovely @hunnie-lily, because your reaction after seeing this image was hilarious 😂 Thanks for inspiring this drabble.

Higurma Masterlist

Imagine kissing Higuruma after a night out. You withdraw, eyes opening languidly, still warm from the kiss...and see that staring at you, a few inches away from your face.

Judgeman means you no harm, he's just curious, but your reflexes kick in, and with a cry of survival, you punch it squarely in the middle of it's face.

"Injustice!" it shrieks as it glides away, feeling the rejection keenly.

Meanwhile, Higuruma is standing there shell-shocked, eyeing you as though you had just kicked a beloved pet.

The next date is spent with you trying to get Judgeman on your good side. It lurks behind the sofa, eyeing you warily as you pss-pss-pss at it, cajoling it with a little gavel-shaped cat toy, contemplating your life choices.

Divider by @/ cafekitsune

#higuruma hiromi #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you #higuruma hiromi x y/n #higuruma hiromi fluff #higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma hiromi headcanons #higuruma hiromi humor #jjk higuruma #vee writes

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pseudowho · 5 days

Text

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.

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You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.

"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.

"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."

You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.

A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.

"I'm...I'm not sure-- are you...are you sure?" The man in the suit stuttered. You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his cockhead, and the man gasped and moaned, a little trickle of salty pre-cum wetting your lips;

"Shhhh...you sound stressed," you cooed, "and I enjoy this, too. So let's have some fun." You held his length in your hand, and were satisfied to hear him whine and tremble, the dull knock of his hands and a knee pressing against the other wall. His cock swelled in your hand, twitching, and you rolled your thumb over his wet cockhead beneath the stretching hood of his foreskin.

"--so-- so stressed," he whined, pleading and begging you, "...you don't even... don't even know how bad...how bad my week has been..." His moans fractured as you began to pump his cock with your hand, from ball to tip, and he rutted forwards into your fist, "...haven't cum...can't remember the last time...so long...haaaah fuck, perfect, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good..."

"Yeah?" You whispered, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed as you drank down his little moans and gasps, purring at him, "Does that feel good? You sound desperate, baby. I bet you work so hard."

He whimpered into the affection; "--g-god yeah...feels amazing...your hand, fuck-- work so hard, s--so so hard...not got...don't have...have anyone, shit-- ohhhh-hhhhh--hh not gonna...not gonna last..."

You felt his cum-tight balls as you reached through, pulling them gently through the hole to massage them at the base of his cock. Your man cried out, all strained whimpers and cursing, and you heard his fingernails scrape against the other side of the wall; "Tell me what you want, beautiful stressed boy...how can I help you?"

"--spit--spit on my cock pleasepleaseplease in your mouth, pl--" He broke off into delirious shudders to feel your hot little mouth slick tightly around his cockhead, squeezing your lips into a tight ring, and using them to push his foreskin down as you sucked him into your mouth. With your tongue cupping his length while you sucked, bobbing your mouth around him, smooth and tasting his little spurts of pre-cum, his moans shot straight through you.

You hadn't felt as aroused as this, pleasuring a client before, but something about his frantic, begging desperation set your clit throbbing. Your hand drifted lazily between your legs, slipping between your glossy wet folds, rolling your clit under two fingers. You moaned around his length, and he cried out, cock throbbing, close to the edge.

Pulling your mouth back, and jacking off his red, aching cock with your spit and fist, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear; "You sound so pretty, you've even got me touching myself--"

That was the last straw; your man in the rumpled suit came with a bark, sandy curses and whimpers. You took him back into your mouth, feeling heavy pulses of seed spilling out onto your tongue, flooding your mouth-- it obviously had been a long time for him.

"--arrrrghh god yes, shit, thank you-- so perfect, fuck, thank you-- oh ffff--ffuuuck in your mouth too...you're too good-- don't deserve-- dont deserve you--...haaaah...ahhhhh..."

You heard the wall tremble as your man came down from his high. His ears ringing, he vaguely heard your swallow. A weak whimper left him, and you giggled as another spurt of cum dampened your lips. You licked him clean, leaving him shivering with overstimulation, before placing a sweet little kiss to his cockhead.

"...come see me again?"

"F-fuck yes, absolutely-- absolutely."

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You had barely worked that week, lost in job-hunting, coming up empty-handed at every turn. It was five days before you made it back to the glory hole, happily receiving a generous payment, and wondering vaguely about your stressed, lonely man in the rumpled suit. You settled in your booth; it took him just a few minutes to find you.

"...is it...is it you?" He asked tentatively. You grinned, nudging yourself forwards on your knees, just out of eyesight behind the gloryhole. You blushed, shaking yourself off as being ridiculous.

"...do you mean me?" You offered. You heard his sigh of delight. He laughed, a deep, rich sound.

"I worried I'd scared you away," he teased. You heard him start to unzip himself, before hesitating, "Uhm...can we...?"

"Quick," you whispered conspiratorially, "put something in my mouth before I start talking at you." He laughed again, a sound that sent flutters of butterflies through your tummy. His cock, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, was pressed through the hole. You reached through to cup his balls, softly bringing them through. He shuddered; he had clearly been hoping you'd cup his sensitive balls for him again.

"You like it when I do this...?" You teased, rolling his heavy balls in one palm. Hearing him groan, and sigh with relief into your touch, you leaned your cheek against the wall, admiring the weight of him in your hand as you massaged him.

"...I...never knew I did, but...you're so good at it...shit, feel like I could cum-- cum just from that--"

"Hush," you mocked him, just to hear his shaking laugh again, "you deserve so much more than that." Taking his cock into your mouth, determined to take him into your throat this time, you revelled in the dulcet tones of him falling apart inside your hot little mouth again. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, swiping into his leaking slit, suckling, examining, measuring him with your throat.

Your stressed man bucked involuntarily to feel his blunt cockhead stroke the back of your throat, and you gagged, swallowing around him. He wasn't able to last long, feeling the sides of your throat stretch around his leaking cock.

"--haaa--aaahhhhh fuck'msosorry...feel s'good...like this...haaahh fuckkkk....do you...do you like to read?"

Your throat convulsed around his length, sputtering as you burst into laughter. Your rumpled man convulsed too, swearing and stuttering as his orgasm hit him like a bus. You tried to catch his cum in your hand and mouth, but knelt, still laughing, his seed dripping down your cheeks as he groaned, bucking forwards, cock bounding thick spatters of seed onto you.

"...do I like to read?" You laughed, masturbating him to bring him down from his high. He whimpered into your wall again, a sound which was gradually conditioning you, into pussy-aching wetness.

"...I'm sorry, I...I just...fucking ignore me, I'm an idiot, I just..."

You laughed again, the twinkling sound shooting through him like daggers.

"...just...wanted to get to know you," he mumbled, and you could hear the mortified little pout through the wall.

You couldn't wait to see your rumpled man again. You didn't know how you resisted looking through the hole at him as he walked away. You called after him, and heard his footsteps hesitate for a moment, before he snorted with mirth.

"I love to read!"

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"I want...to try something different this time. Please."

Your rumpled man sounded hoarse. His voice was tight, clipped. You could feel the stress pounding off him in waves, through your little window to him.

"...what would you like?" You answered, as if to a lover, not a client.

"Can you...can you come to the other window, instead?"

Ah...the gloryhole for fucking. A little flat bench where your ass, pussy and legs could lay, your body separated by a wall and curtain. Your eyelids fluttered to imagine the cock you knew well by now, stretching your pussy open, your mystery man clutching your thighs as he fucked into you. You imagined those desperate whimpers and moans for your cunt, instead of your mouth, and it made you throb.

"I mean...I don't normally..." you hesitated, feeling a twang of regret to disappoint him.

"No," he urged, sounding so fractious and desperate, "not that. I promise, not that. You...another time. Another way. I want...want to eat you out. Please."

You faltered again, arguing with him; "This is meant to be about you, not me, I'll take care of you--"

"Trust me," he begged, his palms flat on the wall now, "...this...this is what I need. I mean it. Please. Please."

God knew you couldn't resist his begging. You felt a trickle of arousal seep out of you, dampening your panties. The thought of that groaning mouth around your clit set you on fire.

"Well...alright then. If you insist." You moved round to the next window, and heard him follow, pacing and predatory. You shimmied out of your panties, swallowing thickly before you crept your ass and legs out of the window, down the table. When you settled, legs open, feeling so exposed, his palms held your thighs. You heard him curse under his breath.

"Fuck...you're beautiful." Your man said it so sincerely, in that lusty-low voice, that you blushed, your hands over your face as you lay on your back. You felt your thighs confidently lifted, draped over strong, broad shoulders. His voice was deep, hungry.

"...hope you've got something to hold onto, back there, my love."

Fuck, how you saw stars. You cried out in genuine bliss as he sunk his face between your folds. You tried climbing up desperately on your elbows to see him, but were woefully obscured by a black curtain. You could feel a powerful, prominent nose bridge nuzzling across your clit, that clever tongue plunging into your hole.

Those familiar groans, husky whispers and moans, were now muffled by your pussy. Your rumpled man was drinking the life out of you, making you twist and writhe, sucking your clit into his mouth with such force that you instinctively shied away up the couch. He gripped your thighs, yanking them back over his shoulders as you squeaked. He growled, sinking his prominent front teeth into the soft inner squish of your thighs.

"No. Get back here so I can fuck you with my mouth." You sobbed against the pleasure, your toes curling against the backs of his shoulders. Crying out as he shook his head from side-to-side with a rusty growl, you twitched and jerked, having never felt yourself dragged to orgasm so forcefully.

"Oh my fuc--fucking god, you're so good at that-- oh fuck don't stop-- don't stop don'tstopdon'tstoppleasepleaseplease--"

You didn't need to beg to make him continue. Already feeling on the edge of a savage high, you felt three long fingers, bunched together and lubricated with his own spit, plunge into your hole. A high, keening cry left you, and he found your soft spot immediately, fucking his fingertips against your belly.

"--thassit--fucking amazing...beautiful girl, c'mon...deserve the best, shit--"

One final suck of your clit into his mouth had you rolling over the edge. Silence rang from the other active booths around you, the clients and girls listening in awe as you moaned and whimpered your way through the most spectacular orgasm you'd ever felt. Your hands plunged past the curtain into his hair, tugging on it, thick and silky between your fingers.

Your rumpled man was groaning, whimpering, those familiar sounds you knew he only made when he came. Ths silence rang loudly through the booths, as you both came down from your highs.

One little voice from somewhere across the room; "...fucking hell." A few smattered laughs, and the slow sounds of others continuing their work of mouths and hands. You were dazed, lost on cloud nine, panting. Your hands came back to you, some inky black strands caught between your fingers. That familiar voice between your legs, so much less tense now.

"...so, uh...reckon I could get a job here? Do I pass the interview?"

You couldn't help how you laughed.

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"...have you...do you see anyone else...apart from me?"

Why did you feel so guilty?

"I...I do, yeah. No regulars though. And nobody I actually enjoy, like...like you." It was true. Your goofy, stressed, rumpled man had ruined you for anyone else. You felt a jealous prickle from him on the other side of the wall.

"...I....do you have to keep doing this?" He pleaded with you.

"...well...can't find any legal secretary jobs, so--"

"Excuse me?"

You faltered. Had you said something wrong? You began to repeat yourself, but he interrupted you.

"All this time...I'm a-- I'm a lawyer," he choked out, and you ran cold, stunned. You laughed nervously.

"...so that's why you're so stressed." He laughed with you, swearing quietly to himself.

"I'm sure..." he offered, sly and sincere, "...I'm sure we could do with another legal secretary."

You knelt, stunned, your mouth dry and heart pounding in anticipation. You heard him speak again.

"Listen... how about you come out here, and say hello properly...and I take you out for dinner? No strings, no expectations, just...dinner."

You were silent. He begged.

"Please...I've got to see you. Please."

Trembling, pulling your clothes on, you acquiesced. Before stepping out from behind the back curtain, your shaking voice joked; "Well, you asked for it...drumroll please."

You laughed to hear him patter two hands rapidly on the wall. You stepped out.

Tall. Black-haired. Hooked-nosed. Hangdog-eyed. And, staring into you, as if you were a goddess made flesh. You had never felt so beautiful. He turned, and blushed, his hands cupping his mouth and nose as he looked towards the ceiling. He groaned, mortified at his past behaviour.

"...you never told me you were so lovely."

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