Higuruma Hiromi X Reader - Tumblr Posts

I love them both.

This is my today's contribution to society. Have a good one.

Calamus et Gladius

Stolen from a foreign army to participate in the Culling Game, speaking little to no Japanese with just a rifle for self-defence, the reader partakes in a bittersweet dance of death and love, with Higuruma Hiromi.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lovers, murder, use of firearms, the desperate smut of two traumatised people who fall hopelessly in love.

This is long, but I make no apologies, because the payoff is worth it.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were used to violence. You were used to senseless bloodshed. Used to rains of bullets, flinging shrapnel, your ears ringing with explosions and screams.

Yet, it was your own screams that rang through you, as an enormous gavel split the earth where you had just stood.

Your entire unit was dead, almost fifty men and women lured into Tokyo Colony One, and you scrabbled back on grazed hands, kicking feet, as this ink-haired monster stepped slowly through the rubble and gore, black eyes fixed on you with the rage and fervour of a justified killer.

He appeared to hesitate only briefly as your face crumpled up at him in tearful rage and despair, desperation. You did not move to grab the rifle on your back; a threat of retaliation would be your downfall.

Despite being the only one of your unit who had had something new, something alien awakened within them, you had developed no fantastical technique. You had no mystical weapon. You had no roiling blue flames engulfing your fists. You had only the ability to sense others like you, and the horrifying stop-motion beasts that now sullied your sight. It was enough, at least, to hide.

"Please-- please--" you begged, the last attempt of a cornered woman. Your back pressed against the wall, the wide street around you a no-man's land of rubble, overturned cars and bloody splatters. The man's hand tightened on his gavel, his other raising to swipe flicks of black fringe off his forehead. He frowned, stopping. You noticed his distinctive hooked nose, crinkling in disgust.

"English," he offered, thickly accented, neither a question or a statement. You gulped, nodding with urgency, any dialogue an opportunity to re-establish his humanity.

"Innocent," you insisted, hands raised in front of you, disarming, "I'm innocent." That word, the man seemed to recognise, and he blew air through his nose, snorting in mirth.

"Innocent?" He asked, sarcastic.

He knelt down in front of you, his eyes still offering no mercy, but he spoke to you so conversationally. He reached one long finger out, tapping the rifle on your back, coming back round to stroke you teasingly along the side of your cheek, holding it so tenderly. His words washed over you, meaningless, until you caught one you could understand as he stood up.

"...sorry." His arm raised, the head of the gavel blocking out the sun, and you took your chance.

Your hand darted, and you flung a handful of brick dust into his eyes as he spat, staggered, cursing. You brought the butt of your rifle round to slam into the side of his head, and although he barely faltered, you ran for your life, darting down alleys, your heart bursting in your ears.

You heard no footsteps chasing you. He could have...but he didn't.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Just one easy kill.

The others had all gone down so hard, Hiromi thought, stepping into his swing, barely missing the foreign woman, the gavel making a buckled crater in the tarmac instead. Hiromi tsked, annoyed, kissing his teeth. Watching her squirm on the floor to save her life, a worm from a bird, Hiromi's gut churned-- ugly.

Murder was so easy. The power to beat scum at their own game was intoxicating. Hiromi stepped after her, so far removed from his old self. His usual self? He wasn't sure.

His keen eyes built the woman's character, hawkish and unforgiving. Young...naive. Soldier...killer. No Japanese...lazy. Pleading...pathetic. Not fighting...coward. By the time she began to beg Hiromi, she was already barely human in his eyes. Swiping his hair upwards, and tightening his grip for the deathblow, he spat, "English."

She caught his eye, and Hiromi felt the barest seed of guilt in the back of his mind, an itch he could not scratch. She had nodded at him, tears brimming in her eyes, hands raised in placation.

"Innocent," the woman had insisted, "...innocent." Bile rose in Hiromi's throat at the familiar word, and the audacity she had to use it for herself, as if she wasn't rolling in the same pigshit as the rest of them. Hiromi's lip curled, smirking as he rubbed his nose with the side of one long finger.

"Innocent?" He stabbed. Hiromi knelt, talking at you as if you understood.

"What's that? You're the good guy, are you?" He mocked, reaching out to tap the rifle on your back, feeling you flinch beneath him, "Is it this, that makes you innocent, hmm?" He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with the blade of his finger, swiping away the tears that had cut a track through the dust and grime, "Or this pretty face, hmmm? Are those big, teary eyes what make you innocent? Don't make me laugh. You're scum, just like the rest of us. And natural law is at play here." He cupped your cheek once, squeezing it with the barest of sincerities in his apology as he stood.

"Sorry," Hiromi offered, lifting his gavel and feeling power churn through him, just and righteous as your executioner.

Hiromi cursed as he felt a spray of grit flung into his face, immediately disarmed by the sordid pain of sand in his eyes, further disorientated by the ear-ringing slam of something into the side of his head. He staggered, faltering.

"Oooh, you piece of shit," Hiromi cooed, vicious, spitting with venom, vision completely obscured as he tried in vain to clear his eyes. He felt you disappear, and he leaned against the wall, laughing despite himself at having been bested. He smiled, the barest tinge of admiration for your tenacity threading through him.

"Alright," Hiromi sniffed, rubbing his nose again as his vision began to clear, "catch you later, I suppose."

Hiromi tried to forget you. He tried to forget his humanity, but each life he took made him sicker, infected by this game.

Every time he closed his eyes, to sleep in some strange home-less, love-less bed, your eyes met his, impeaching him.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Resources soon ran thin, for one who held no territory. You had your army pack, and rationed out your meagre foodstuffs, always hungry, always on-edge. You had never fought alone, in war.

You had managed to develop quite the skill at hiding, and concealed yourself, cloaked in plain sight, from even the most powerful of those left in the game. Every day that the stragglers were picked off, the stakes ran higher. Every explosive battle you ran from, dodging the falling debris thrown by titans, you felt your inherent value as an easy kill increasing.

You thought of the hook-nosed man who had let you go. Despite his willingness to kill you, you craved human contact, and found warmth in the memory of the heat of his gaze, his hand on your face, desperately trying to translate the words he had spoken to you as he caressed your cheek.

One dewy dawn, you had taken position on a sheltered rooftop, giving you equal measures concealment and oversight. With your rifle drawn, flat on your belly, you felt the ebbs and wanes of a familiar power draw closer. Curiously, it made your belly clench, eager to see the man who could have chased you, but didn't. You were itching to know why. Itching to behold him again.

Your heart leapt as he stepped into the street, at least four stories below you. Even from this distance, you could see the intensity of his furrowed brow, the noble bearing of his shoulders beneath a great black overcoat. His tie hung, dishevelled, loose-knotted. He was hunting.

He paused, tiptoed on a breath...before rolling, gracefully dodging as a knife of Cursed energy ricocheted through the street, splitting it. You gasped, your eye moving away from your rifle lens, watching in awe as he took to battle with another man. While he seemed to hold his own, he appeared distracted, and was buffeted, winded by an almighty hit, knocked onto his back, elbows on the ground.

A strange panic overtook you as your hook-nosed man's assailant bore down on him, power surging, preparing to murder--

-- a gunshot. A brittle, echoing bang. The assailant's head snapped forwards, and he fell, killed instantly, face first on the ground in front of your hook-nosed man.

He panted, his face sprayed with blood. With a few owlish blinks, his eyes tracked upwards. You held your breath, adrenaline coursing through you. As the man stood, eyes fixed on you (in rage? murderous intent? thanks?), you jolted to life and took aim on him.

He did not raise his hands. There was no standoff, as he made no move to save his own life. In the moment that he accepted his death for the attempt he had made on yours, something in you both softened, seeing each other as you saw no others. A gentle impasse. The intimacy of differentiation.

It took everything you had in you to break eye contact, and run.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi mulled beneath the shaky warning of your rifle.

You were afraid, he thought as he gazed up at you, so sickeningly grateful for having been chosen by you. The mist of his opponent's blood drifting through the sunrise, picked Hiromi out as somehow preferable, in your mind.

And, why should you not be afraid? He saw you beneath him, again, your eyes soft and begging him for mercy. You had been defenceless and entirely in his palm. He had been relieved, he recalled, that he could kill someone easily. The begging made you passive. Hiromi could have vomitted, sickened by himself.

He stood, arms raised slightly to his sides, his profile illuminated by sweet morning sun, waiting for death to take his hand.

Hiromi felt embraced by your eyes. Wanted. Some companionship, in death...until you refused him his end. The red string between you both seemed to snap as you broke eye contact and ran.

Alone, as the sun broke above the skyline, Hiromi whispered; "Thank you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

There was no way out. Starving and desperate, days had passed since you had saved your hook-nosed man, and you had crept through haunted streets to a convenience store, unusually well-stocked with food and drink.

You bit your tongue for your own stupidity at having walked into such an obvious trap. No amount of being able to hide one's Cursed energy could compensate for being seen walking into the shop. Crouching now, behind shelves of ramen, tears trembled on your lashes, an aching lump in your throat.

You heard a mocking voice, cooing at you, laughing at you, and you blushed with indignant tearful injustice, not needing language to know when you were being assaulted for your sex. You were afraid of death. You were more afraid of being used beforehand.

With nowhere to hide, and no grit to throw, you tipped your head back and thought of those black embering eyes, holding you in his gaze.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Are you hungry?" The voice chirped, teasing, mean, "Come out, baby. I've got something here in my pocket you can taste." A filthy laugh. Slow, easy footsteps. Willing to rape you before he killed you. Hiromi felt himself burn with fury, ready to wring this man's neck with his own two hands.

Hiromi walked the streets easily, now. His power had come on in leaps and bounds, and he both trusted in his own abilities, and feared nothing of death. Not since you had held his life in your hands, and thrown it straight back in his face.

He was a disordered eater at the best of times, but, a sudden faintness from hunger sent him seeking food. Hiromi knew some dirty little spider had built a web at an abandoned store, and did not fear a man who sought to ensnare the desperate.

Let him try me, thought Hiromi as he approached, lit by the sickly orange glow of streetlights, and see where it gets him.

Just a few steps from the entrance, Hiromi paused mid-step, his heart hiccuping in his chest. It was you. Inside the store, your Cursed energy faltering and so overwhelmed by that of the spider. Hiromi's lips parted, to call for you, a hand in the dark. He stopped, gritting his teeth. No-- this would not do, he thought, as he began a hunt of his own.

The spider was so obviously distracted by excitement, thrilled to find a woman in his dirty little trap. He had found you, by the time Hiromi reached you, in time to see you flung, body smashing against the counter, curling and coughing. Hiromi stepped behind the spider, seething, overburdened with terrible strength.

You had looked up in time to see your hook-nosed man wind an arm round your assailant's neck, throttling him, dragging him backwards out of the store. The hook-nosed man's face was twisted, ugly with rage...and for what? For you?

If your Cursed-energy had been no match for that of your assailant, his was dwarfed by that of your rescuer. Still coughing, doubled over on your hands and knees, you crawled to the entrance, watching the streetlights flicker above your hook-nosed man as he choked the life out of your assailant, merciless in his conviction.

You knelt there, drinking in his profile, in that sickly orange glow. His sharply squared jaw. His black overcoat, shrouding him like Death itself. Panting and cursing as his arms shook, your assailant fighting weakly beneath him. Choking the life out of a man, a murder most intimate. For you. Killing, with his bare hands-- for you.

Time hung in suspended animation in these small hours. Your rescuer sighed, the tension releasing from his shoulders as he knelt back on his haunches. He appeared devoid of guilt, at having carried out his sentencing. Slowly, as if fearful of what he would see in your eyes, he turned to you, kneeling in the doorway of the shop.

Your eyes met. You studied each other in silence. He had a way of making you transparent. You had a way of making him exposed. His panting slowed, palms flush to his thighs, offering you a cautious smile, as your eyes glimmered in the dark.

"English," he spoke, by way of greeting.

"Nose," you returned. He frowned, uncertain.

"N..?"

You reached up to stroke your nose, and repeated, with a smile; "Nose."

His hand reached up to mirror yours, realising, and he burst into laughter, rich and genuine. You blushed, burying your face in your hands as he continued to laugh. He wiped his eyes, fingering the hook in his nose again, looking at you with those deep embering eyes that wholly undressed you.

"Nose," he repeated, chuckling, "Subarashī." Your bit your lip in mirth, looking anywhere but at him as he tried to catch your eye again, mischief twinkling in his.

Hiromi stood, stretching his shoulders back with a husky groan, tipping his neck from side to side. He stepped over to you, and you felt, ridiculously, so teenagerish as the odd duality of your hook-nosed man made your belly twist. You saw a long-fingered hand enter your line of sight. You looked at it questioningly. The fingers wiggled in invitation.

With a shaking hand, you took his. He pulled you up and smiled at you, swinging your hand briefly in his before releasing it, waiting for you to step into the shop before he followed. You browsed for food, as if Saturday-Night-Snack-Hunting as a couple, in safe silence.

Shivering as the adrenaline wore off, your stomach clenched with terrified nausea to hear explosions, shouts, drawing ever nearer in the street outside. Your hook-nosed man looked up, hangdog eyes wide, flicking from you, to the street, and back again. He gritted his teeth, bundling packets of food into the pockets of his overcoat.

You found yourself manhandled, his heavy coat suddenly on you. Your rescuer's hands moved deftly, smoothing the coat across your shoulders, searching for words, irritated by his intelligence in one language and his stupidity in another.

"Cold-- hungry-- go," Hiromi pressed in broken English, spinning you as you protested, urging you through the back door. You turned in the doorway, your eyes begging him to...what? To go with you? There was no time, no time--

Hiromi materialised his gavel, and crouched, snarling at you: "GO!" He roared, steeped in regret as you sprinted away, guarding your life like a child.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your hook-nosed man began to leave you breadcrumbs; tickets to safe havens, food, shelter, beds. You felt the vestiges of his Cursed-energy wherever you followed his trail, haunted by the path of devastation he left to build you sanctuaries.

Your dialogue budded, and combined with his notes and signs, you began to learn more about him. His notes, secreted away in scrawled English, street signs flipped to point in alternate directions, and crude maps drawn on dust-caked windows, all added colour and life to him.

Hiromi took a little joy, his cold heart popping to life, at the little hearts you drew in the dust; signs of acknowledgement, a tiny thrill.

You found yourself drawn to a bookstore, and scoured the shelves, looking for a particular something, a matching pair. You found hints of him in the pockets of the hook-nosed man's overcoat; a business card, in Japanese. A handkerchief, curiously embroidered with two gold initials-- H.H. A set of housekeys with a key-finder fob. A pair of chewed pens. You still thought of him as "Nose".

Hiromi still thought of you as "English", as he caught himself differentiating you from the others. Still steeped in this depression, this black-dog-misery and ugliness, he saw you, a light in the dark, who hid yourself to protect yourself as well as others, from needless violence.

They were all ugly...except, perhaps, for you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You sighed as you slipped into the hot bath, water up to your chin in the great, deep basin of this luxury hotel. You were impressed there was still a hot water supply, and you felt a gleeful coil of naughtiness, knowing you would never usually be able to afford to stay in such opulence, all marble tiles and gold taps.

Fighting for survival did not negate the fundamental craving for little joys, and you took advantage of the selection of complimentary soaps, scouring yourself free of grime with happy hums. You sang to yourself, quiet in the evening hush, just you and your languid splishing--

-- oh. A cautious approach. A familiar power. You clasped the lip of the bath, sinking your body under the water.

"...hello? Nose?" You called out. You heard the click of a lock, quick feet stepping in, locking the door behind him. A single held breath.

"...English?"

You blushed, pressing your lips to your knuckles, white from how tightly you gripped the bath. Hiromi's cheeks prickled faintly, hearing soft splashes from the bathroom, seeing your clothes discarded over the bed, your rifle leaning against it. You cleared your throat, wanting to talk, not knowing where to start.

"Mhm." Hiromi smiled at your little squeak, sitting with a groan and creaking knees, his back against the wall beside the bathroom door. Separated by this thin wall, he reached a hand around the doorway behind him. You giggled to see his long fingered hand offer you a jaunty wave.

"Konbanwa, English," he offered. He jolted to feel your little hand, warm and wet, squeeze his. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, smooth, examining, probing in a way that made your belly tight. You reluctantly released his fingers, humming in thought as you reached out of the bath into your backpack, searching for something.

Momentarily, Hiromi felt something gently tap the side of his head around the bathroom door, and he giggled, a noise which made you paddle your feet in delight. He reached up, taking a Japanese-English dictionary and phrasebook from your hand.

"Ahhhhh!" Hiromi hummed, genuinely thrilled, "Yoi aidea." He skimmed through the book, hunting again, and you paused, listening.

"Good idea!" He stated, confident, and he squirmed to hear you laugh at his janky pronunciation. Hiromi wanted so dearly to see you, to know you were uninjured, and instead scoured his little book again.

"Hurt?" He asked you. You softened, responding automatically.

"Ah...no, I'm...hmm," you flipped through your own book, "...uhm...daijōbu desu?"

Hiromi hummed, satisfied. You talked this way, for some time, gently brushing the outskirts of each others' language and personality. Hiromi corrected you. You corrected him. The bath grew cold. The light began to die behind the windows, casting you both in deep shadow and amber glow.

At some point, in the conversation, your hands had trailed together again. Hiromi now leaned sideways against the wall, his cheek pressed against it, eyes closed as his fingertips grazed the inside of your wrist.

You lay in the bath, shivering, feeling your heartbeat between your legs from such an innocent, intimate touch-- except, it did not feel innocent in intent. Perhaps, that was what made you squirm.

"Stay safe," Hiromi whispered to you, his fingers drawing circles on your palm, his next word crumpling your face with barely restrained tears, "Afraid."

Hiromi bit his lip in anguish, eyes squeezed shut to see you in his mind's eye, so desperately touch-starved as you pressed a kiss to his palm. He felt your lips remain, nose ghosting against his pulse. He imagined those lips on his own, and he was filled with an anxious need to taste you, to lift you from the bath, wrap you up in the bed and his arms, safe.

Fully distracted by thoughts of you and your sweet cries beneath his body, Hiromi almost missed you holding out your book to him, pressed open at the start-- and a name, your name, written neatly on the page. You offered this, all the while wanting to step to him from the bath, and offer him the feel of those clever fingers, examining the rest of your body.

"Oh..." Hiromi whispered, reverent, squeezing your hand as he swiped his thumb over the faint imprint of your written name, repeating it aloud slowly. Hearing him speak your name, almost had you climbing out of the bath and into his lap. You closed your eyes, imagining him crying it out as he peaked, buried deeply inside you. You burned with the urgent need to know him.

Just a few seconds later, Hiromi's hand reached round the corner, offering his own book back to you, with his own name written in your own alphabet, jolted and square.

"Higuruma...Hiromi?" He hummed, happily.

"Hiromi," you repeated, and he hummed again, delighted by your name on his lips. You tucked your dictionary away, thrilled, reaching for a towel.

"It suits you. I love it." Hiromi understood just one word you had uttered, and it sent joy creeping down his spine. He pressed his forehead against the wall.

Pull yourself together, Hiromi, he thought, it's just loneliness and desperation. Nothing else. No amount of logic and self-chastisement stopped his mouth from moving independently of his mind, as he flicked through your dictionary, imbued with your name.

"Bed. Stay. Please." Silence. Hiromi pressed the corner of the dictionary to his head, cursing himself under his breath. Idiot, pathetic little moron, stupid--

"Yes."

Hiromi's stomach swooped, missing a step, hearing you climb out of the bath. You steeled yourself, blushing furiously, to wrap a towel around yourself and pad out to the bedroom. Hiromi turned his back to you, but not before seeing the graceful curve of your leg, the wet cleavage of your breasts, the towel barely skimming the tops of your thighs. He breathed slowly, clawing back his self-control as you dressed behind him.

A long, slow whistle, belonging to neither of you, broke the silence, and your blood ran with ice water.

Voices spoke, Hiromi spitting threats, in this language that still gatekept against your understanding.

You jacked sideways, still topless, seizing your rifle as Hiromi demolished the doorway with a single wide swing of his gavel. You heard laughter from the corridor, and you hurriedly pulled your top and Hiromi's overcoat on, fixing your rifle on your shoulder to take aim.

Hiromi backed up to you, wrapping one arm behind himself and around you, fingers splayed against the small of your back. You understood none of the venom spat between Hiromi and this hidden assailant.

Your nerves on a knife-edge, you sensed movement behind the shattered brickwork of the doorway, and fired, a deafening blow in this enclosed space. A spray of blood and an enraged shout through the drifting plaster-cloud saw you hit your mark, and Hiromi exclaimed, shocked and delighted, squeezing your waist.

"I've seen better shots than that from her, bastard" Hiromi warned, "and if you think she's easy prey, you've got both of us to take down."

"Hiromi," you gasped, hyperventilating, "Hiromi-- Hiromi--"

Silence through the room; Hiromi's ears rang. He pocketed your dictionary, and grasped your cheeks, eyes fixed to yours and wordlessly reassuring you as he turned you towards him from the doorway. You felt your heart bounding in your chest, hands loosening on your rifle as you drank him in, breathed the same air, panting, together--

--it was all too fast. Hiromi's eyes fixing behind you. His panicked shout. Being thrown sideways onto the bed, a glassy smash, a scream that may have been your own--

Hiromi and your hunter plummeted in an outward spray of glass, two inky blots fading into the night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had searched so desperately. Nothing could assure you Hiromi was still alive. There were no breadcrumbs left in the dust; nil but blood, and so much of it, beneath the shattered hotel window, so many stories up.

You had run your hands through it, clotted with the rubble, needing to feel him within the grisly spill-- alas. Too many residuals passed over this land. Too many battles fought, too many lives spent and saved, for clairvoyance to be what repaired your fractured heart.

You steeled yourself. Adversity goaded you to try harder. To do better. You took to the hunt yourself. You amassed points from potshots, hidden in curious places to execute nasty little opportunists who sought dominion over the weak.

While you had had no experience of the Kogane-- the odd, winged shikigami which acted as an interface between the players and the game-- in your passive state, they now became regular visitors, updating you of your points total. You had assumed they could not speak your language-- you were wrong.

Witnessing, from afar, one day, another player asking Kogane a question, your stomach rolled with nausea and hope as you called the black-tailed beast to you.

"Kogane?" The creature appeared with a pop. Your mouth opened, and closed, faltering over your words.

"Kogane, is-- is Hiromi Higuruma a player in the game?"

Silence-- and an answer; "Higuruma Hiromi is a player in the game--"

All of the air left your lungs in an enormous gasp, a heaving cry of relief as you doubled over, your hands cupped over your mouth and nose, tears streaming down around your fingers, before the Kogane had even finished giving its report.

"Thank you-- th--thank you, Kogane," you sobbed, blinded by your own tears. This tiny demon, to whom manners meant nothing, hung impassively. It disappeared with a pop as you spun away, cloaked with conviction.

You turned on a pinhead, cocking your rifle ready, and stalked off through the ruins; all of your steeling wisped away like ashes, your heart on the battlefield, knowing your vulnerability was out there, alive.

You decided now, with a smile at the thought of those beetle-black eyes, to hunt not for business, but for pleasure.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi felt the damp all the way to his bones, in these heavy, wet clothes, made heavier still by the excruciating weight of his crimes. The theatre door swung closed behind him, and he leaned his back against the wall, crouching, the palms of his heels pressing so hard into his eyes that he was blinded by lights.

He had fallen beyond salvation, and it gnawed at the rotten wood of him, eating him alive. Feeling his brain judder, his tie too tight, the walls too close, the silence too deafening, Hiromi tried to collect himself. He pressed his palms to his thighs and breathed; in through his nose one two three four five and out through his mouth one two three four five.

Feeling his heart rate slow, full of equal parts light and dark, Hiromi called out into the gloom, straightening slowly.

"Kogane." The creature appeared with a pop, waiting, patient. Hiromi spoke your name, and then, hesitant--

"...is she a player in the game?" A heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Confirmed--"

Hiromi did not hear the rest, buckling to his haunches with a primal cry of gratitude, and a few moments of dry sobs as his fingers raked through his hair. Chest heaving, he breathed again, one two three four five, one two three four five.

In the space taken for one breath, Hiromi decided not to find you. You, who had always chosen not to fight. You, whose pleading eyes still haunted him. You could not be sullied by his rot.

Hiromi stepped out into the night, a porcelain man checkered with cracks, seeking only to rebuild a world worthy of you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

He's here.

Climbing the stairs, fine piano music rang distant, its notes bittersweet, cherries in kirsch. Your feet carried you unbidden and you ascended, the notes becoming sweeter, feeling him, closer, playing this Siren's song.

Stepping into the doorway of the skyline bar, he must have felt your approach. The lights were low, refracted through a hundred hanging glasses, a hundred under-lit bottles of vim and vigour. The room sprawled out in an expansive, long C-shape, and your heart stuttered to see Hiromi at the end, pale fingers moving across the piano, white-shirt-shoulders burdened by the weight of his song.

You felt him build in the music as you approached, each note demanding more of him, and more and more and more and more--

There was only the briefest hitch in the music, barely perceptible, as you slid onto the bench beside Hiromi. He did not look up, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

Consumed by the need to feel his skin on yours, you reached out, your hand ghosting over his. In a flash, Hiromi's hand darted up to grab yours, fingers tangled, as his other hand continued to move, playing this bisected song. A few moments passed, this way, with Hiromi pressing his lips and nose to your knuckles, his face contorted, conflicted-- pained.

"Go," he whispered, breath fanning over your hand, "bad."

"I...I don't--...bad?" You turned towards him, to hold him, and he jerked, twitching away from you, and you felt your heart tug along with him.

"No. Me. I...am bad." You shook your head, more and more fervent as Hiromi twisted away from you, quietly cursing, husky, tortured. He tried to release your hand, and you refused, plaiting your fingers in his, steadfast in a way that filled him with an animalistic urge to appreciate you.

You turned from him, your other hand resting upon the high keys, pressing gentle, uncertain notes. Overwhelmed by your closeness, and your insistent faith in him, Hiromi softened to watch your profile, backlit from the liquid glow of the bar. Your small hand, moving softly over the keys. Your heart beating like butterfly wings in your throat.

"No. Not bad. Lost. Lonely. Sabishī."

Every moment of belief you handed him, pulled Hiromi closer to the light. Swallowing thickly, he brought your joined hands to the keys, laying his palm over the back of yours, overlaying your fingers with his own. He pressed, soft insistent touches, on your fingers, guiding them to play. You felt your belly coil with odd pleasure, captivated by Hiromi's hands, all at once gentle and rough, smart and instinctual--

"Hiromi--"

"No. Stop." Hiromi tensed, his voice rough, fraying alongside his self-control. His hand shook over your own, the notes stopping now. Heat burst through you, certain he felt it too, this dangerous need, and his name forced its way out of you again, a challenge.

"Hiro--"

Hiromi spat venom again, growling and cursing as he stood, lifting you by the waist, sitting you upon the keys with a spray of notes, his arms shaking as they pressed beside you, trapping you in. Nose to nose, his breath on your lips, his face twisted with fury and need, Hiromi whispered to you.

"Stop. My name--" Hiromi shook, on his last thread, half a step away from using you--

When your hand snaked to his tie, tugging him closer, your other hand sinking into the back of his hair, Hiromi snapped.

His lips pressed to yours, hot and hungry, his body closing the rest of the distance to be flush between your thighs. Your mouth opened to him, feeling his urgency as he drank down your stolen breath, one hand tilting your head back to consume you, the other dragging through the plush rolls of your belly and hips.

Every kiss was hot and anguished, punctuated by Hiromi's low rolling voice, not needing language to feel the fervour and vice on his lips-- "--won't be gentle-- I'm sorry I-- I can't--"

You insisted your understanding on him the only way you knew how; fingers working his tie off and draping it round your own neck, locking your legs around him to press his aching cock against your core, undoing his shirt in a desperate flurry, all notes and fingers and tongues and moans.

You tasted rum in his mouth, all spice and brown sugar, and his hand wandered to your throat, feeling your pulse there before tilting you backwards, arched against the hood of the piano. With your head rested back, he spoke to you, shirt now unbuttoned to his navel, cock straining against the material below a trail of black hair.

"--making a mistake to let a monster put his mouth on you, English-- let's see what sounds you can make." Your khaki t-shirt was pulled off over your head, where Hiromi let it catch around your hands, twisting it to bind you. Hiromi kept you gripped this way, leaning over you, caging you in as he gripped the cups of your bra between his teeth, yanking them down to free your breasts.

Hiromi shuddered and moaned, feeling a drop of pre-cum soak into his boxers, as he flattened his tongue over your nipple, rolling, tasting, pulling you between his lips, nuzzling from side to side like an animal. You mewled, jutting your hips involuntarily, and Hiromi pressed back, pleasuring you with rough, sharp thrusts against your clothed pussy.

Hiromi leaned back, releasing your nipple with a hard suck, gazing down at where he fucked himself against you, mesmerised by the way you shivered and humped against his cock. Unabashed, his words falling over you like strange-eyed constellations, Hiromi fucked you with his voice--

"--cum like this, and I'll give you my fingers...cum like that, and I'll give you my tongue-- fuck, I'll eat you alive, you fucking goddess--"

As Hiromi spoke, all twisted rage and growls, his hips slammed into you, spurred on by your squeaks and whimpers, gripping the fat of your hips to ram your core against him. The pleasure was brutal, all harsh fabric friction and Hiromi's unrestrained adoration, and you tried to hold yourself together as you were dragged to orgasm, your frantic hands pressing disjointed chords on the keys beneath you.

Hiromi wanted to, needed to cum like this, with you, knowing he'd be able to continue fucking you after until he collapsed in your arms from exhaustion. Pausing only briefly to reach into his boxers, and angle his angry, throbbing cock upwards so the bulbous tip pressed between his waistband and belly, Hiromi's eyes rolled back in unadulterated ecstasy as he continued to fuck you against him.

You were both close, having been unfinished even by yourselves for weeks, and Hiromi's eyes burned into yours, feral with the need for you to finish with him, feeling your thighs tense around him as you babbled, fully understanding your meaning behind the nonsense--

"--gonna cum-- please-- Hiromi-- harder--"

You pressed back against the piano, arching with a high-pitched cry as hot pleasure burst through you, from your deeply aching clit outwards, crackling through your fingers, all white-hot sparks and embers. Watching you convulse against him, angling his hips to rut his trapped cock tip, feeling his thighs and belly set alight with the force of his orgasm, his hands planted either side of you, back twitching as he came with a bark.

Still riding the last waves of your orgasm, you watched him in fascination. The sight of Hiromi's cum spurting in long, white ropes onto his navel and yours, his agonised, fractured gasps, had you humping against the underside of his cock again, dragging out your peak to hear him whimper, cock twitching against your core. Your hand drifted to his belly, stroking the cum between your fingertips in a blissful haze, squeezing a thumb under the foreskin of his exposed cockhead, stroking his slit with his own lubrication.

Hiromi convulsed and growled at you, clasping your hand against him, dopey and shaking as you drank his reaction from his eyes, thumb still circling his cockhead, slippery with his seed.

"St--st--aaaaahhh..." You shushed Hiromi's weak cries, grazing your tongue over his lips, delighted as he twitched in your hand, weak little spurts of cum oozing onto your fingers. Hiromi let you continue like this, for a few seconds, before wrenching your hand away, plaiting your fingers into his own and nuzzling into you furiously. His heart leapt to hear you giggle as he bit into you, still to desperate, everything still not enough to take away this pain and this filth and this misery--

His other hand wandered down, stroking down the rolls of your belly, pinching, nails grazing, digging in all the way to your belt, undoing it with military efficiency. Not bothering to undo the button, he yanked down the zip instead, giving him enough room to manoeuvre his hand between your skin and the fabric, shucking your underwear aside to cup the wet heat of your pussy in one long hand.

Dipping his hand out to collect the cum off your belly, he thrust his hand back inside against your pussy again, teeth gritted and bared as he drank down your reactions now. He was satisfied to see the playful glint in your eyes flicker, your eyebrows raised in shock and overstimulation, teeth sinking into your lip as he rubbed your clit roughly, cum-sticky fingers rubbing broad strokes side to side across it.

"--two can play at that game, sweetheart...feels good? More? Harder?" Hiromi pressed you, in these words you didn't understand, and laughed, darkly satisfied as you wiggled beneath his hands, one hand resting lightly on your throat as you tried in vain to scoot away from him, your breath releasing in airy whimpers.

"No answer?" Hiromi moved his fingers faster, harder, your pussy squelching with your mixed cum inside your trousers, feeling you writhe beneath them, "I'll decide for you then."

Hiromi urged your orgasm to build, faster and harder this time, teeth gritted as he dragged you to the edge, growling into you as his tongue flicked roughly over your nipple--

"--come on-- know you can do it-- I'll go as hard as you like, come on, good girl--ah, there-- good girrrrllll..." Hiromi softened his movements, fingers undulating against your pussy as he pulled another orgasm from you, moving one finger from your throat to dip into your mouth, shuddering as you sucked it around your cries and whimpers.

Hiromi felt his cock beginning to stir to life again, and he committed you to memory like this, draped over the piano, wet breasts heaving, his seed dripping down your belly, eyes glazed, body supple.

Another word, that he did know in English, slipped from him, as he dropped to his knees before you, worshiping at this otherworldly alter in the moonlight; "Beautiful."

You blushed, voice catching in your throat as Hiromi smiled up at you, soft and captive in his sincerity as he unbuttoned your trousers, easing them, with your underwear, gently to your ankles, and off. Feeling suddenly so exposed, so flawed, you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt Hiromi grip your ankle with such tenderness, pressing a long, languid kiss to the delicate bones on the inside.

"English," Hiromi called, beckoning you back to him. You shook your head, blushing, eyes still closed, and he insisted. "English, please--" your eyes opened, uncertain, and Hiromi hummed in satisfaction as he began to kiss his way up your inner legs, "--beautiful."

Sighing and leaning back, one arm over your eyes, your heart bursting with the oddity of having fallen in love like this, you felt safe behind your language barrier as you spoke without a filter; "Oh, Nose. I love you. I really do."

Hiromi paused, stunned and ecstatic, his lips still on your inner thigh. He shocked you both, at how quickly his grasp of your language had come along; "And I love you, English." Hiromi chuckled with genuine glee as you clapped your hands over your face, mortified. Hiromi nuzzled into you, wickedly playful, but soon overtaken by this violent urge again--

"And...I love--" you squealed as you felt Hiromi force your thighs apart, sinking his tongue and nose quickly between your folds, groaning as he tasted the heady mix of his and your cum around your clit. His cock, almost fully hard again, throbbed, tightening his waistband as the blood rushed to it again. Hiromi reached down, releasing his cock with a sigh.

He took his time, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he lapped at you, dipping his tongue into your entrance, tasting you, teasing you. You leaned, watching him again, and he looked up at you, hooded eyes burning as he nuzzled his nose against your clit, and held his own cock in his hand, stroking slowly. You felt jolts of voyeuristic pleasure, watching him masturbate himself to the taste of you.

"I...I like that," you whispered to him, your hand moving down to graze your nails against his scalp. You watched Hiromi like pornography as he shuddered, his cock leaping in his hand, your eyes fixed intently on his hand gliding up and down his length as you felt your pleasure beginning to crescendo yet again.

"More, I--" you moved your hand in the air as if you were the one stroking Hiromi's cock, mimicking faster movements, "--faster, Hiromi." Hiromi hummed in understanding, groaning sandy little groans into your pussy now as his hand sped up, jacking himself off harder, feeling your pussy clench around nothing beneath his tongue as you watched him, your keening cries getting higher and higher until--

-- you came again, trembling with the fluttering soft pleasure of your third orgasm, thighs clamping around Hiromi's head as he sucked your clit gently between his lips. Hiromi panted, gripping the base of his cock, delaying his high, fingers wet with more pre-cum, desperate to drag you to the floor and finish using you.

Pulling his mouth away, his hands trembling on your thighs, Hiromi's face was unreadable as he looked at the floor. Standing, dishevelled and sweating, looking up at you with feral hunger, his cock still twitching in his hand, you could see the barest vestiges of Hiromi pleading you for permission, with those exquisite dark eyes--

All it took from you was a nod. Hiromi pounced, wiry arms deceptively strong as he lifted you, legs locked around his waist, nose nuzzling against yours, teeth nipping your lips with a rumble. Hiromi whispered his mother tongue against your mouth, reaching out one hand for his overcoat, and tossing it into the floor, before laying you on your front, sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade with bruising force.

"--you're beautiful, and you're good, and I don't deserve you-- fuck, I need you now, I--I need--"

Hiromi panted above you, barely restraining himself from slamming into you immediately as he looped an arm round your neck and chest, pulling you up and forcing your back to arch. Ghosting his nose over your ear, he whispered your name, making you shiver and squirm, certain you'd break unless you felt him inside you soon.

"Ready, English?" You trembled, nodding, head tipped back as his cock grazed against your slippery folds. One hand cupped your arse, stroking softly, before slapping, Hiromi captivated by its plush jiggle against his fingers, how you cried out, how your skin flushed so deliciously.

Not holding back, Hiromi slammed into you, one forearm planted to the floor while the other restrained you against him, cupping your breasts in one squeezing hand. He shook, cursing, his teeth in your shoulder, as he felt the tip of his cock kiss your gummy walls, feeling your pussy clench around him in shock.

Prone, hands clawing at his overcoat, Hiromi felt enormous inside you, so swollen and plush after waiting to be filled for so long. You whimpered, resting your head sideways against his clutching bicep, feeling the muscle tense and jump as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, still speaking husky reassurances to you in his native tongue.

"--rest, just-- keep still and let me hold you, I-- I can't slow down anymore--"

Feeling simultaneously used and protected, caged in like this for him to chase his own pleasure, your breath came in ragged gasps, both hands now clutching the forearm across your neck and chest, head swimming with the instinctively blissful fullness of his cock, tightly sleeved within you. You felt your belly jolt from the force of Hiromi's thrusts, and pressed up towards him, proud to hear him moan in response.

Hiromi fucked you with abandon, needing this release, needing to shed his sin and worthlessness, his heart leaping to feel you fall apart beneath him. His hips began to stutter, strength abandoning him as his orgasm approached, moaning deep breaking moans in your ear, nipping, holding your neck in his teeth.

His legs buckling beneath him, Hiromi cried out in bliss, his arm shaking around you, hips flush against your arse, cock twitching long, hot spurts of cum inside your walls, feeling you pulse around him, sucking him in. You revelled in the glorious feeling of him twitching deep inside you, your belly hot and clenching as his seed seeped out between your clenched thighs. Hiromi lay above you, panting, pressing soft kisses into your hair, using his arm to roll you sideways with him, covering you both with his overcoat.

With his arm beneath your head, the other lazily stroking the curve of your waist and hips, Hiromi laughed lazily behind you.

"You love me, English, hmm?" Hiromi laughed again as you clapped your hands to your face.

"Stop, Hiromi, stop--" you cried, blushing all the way to your toes as he squeezed you closer, "-- or I will shoot you." Hiromi lifted his head, peering mulishly at you, one eyebrow raised. You scowled, pointing to your gun, and then at him, and he gasped in mock horror.

"Ara ara," he rumbled, teasing you in alien words, "so violent when you're meant to be happy."

You remembered these sweet small hours the most, after the horrors that came. You remembered lying in each others' arms, sticky and teasing. You remembered sneaking to the bathrooms, splashing each other at the sinks as you cleaned up as best as you could. You remembered laughing as Hiromi cursed, trying to clean the residual cum off your clothes. You remembered Hiromi calling for you, afraid, anxious, before you ducked back up from behind the bar, your arms full of snacks and drinks. You remembered lying beneath the piano, gazing out across the city, flicking peanuts at each other, sharing slow, lazy kisses. You remembered naively seeing a future between you, a happy life with none of this unthinkable chaos.

It was your fault, you cursed yourself, vomiting and wracked with sobs, staggering away from the devastation. If you had been able to develop your power, and pose a real threat, Hiromi wouldn't have been burdened with such a liability.

Lost in each other again, nose to nose beneath the piano, your instincts had kicked in just fast enough to kick Hiromi away, saving his life as the floor between you both split with dreadful electricity. A strange-haired, wild-eyed boy burst through the room on a voltage, bottles smashing, the floor splitting, your rifle disappearing into the chasm as Hiromi shouted for you, urging you, ordering you-- you were sure, to move, to run, to save yourself and leave him.

You could do none of them, your military training meaning nothing to this god. You could do nothing when Hiromi stepped into his path, defending you, fighting tooth and nail. You could do nothing as the floors split beneath him, dragging them down in lightning flashes, horrifying rumbles. You had fled from the collapse, leaping flights of stairs one at a time, possessed by some strange force. You had not felt Hiromi again. Powerful though he was, you could not see how he could walk out of such a fight alive.

Putting all the dregs of your energy into hiding, refusing to let Hiromi's sacrifice be in vain, you cried yourself to sleep, nose in Hiromi's overcoat, his cum still cooling between your thighs.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Each day merged into the next. Time had lost meaning. While you had the urge to fight before loving Hiromi, to have loved and lost him broke you and the future you may have had. The battleground was no place for someone such as yourself now. You cursed the injustice of it all.

Cold, dirty and exhausted, your head rested sideways against an industrial bin, praying the rain would wipe your soul clean.

You had translated his business card, with your little dictionary--

Lawyer. Higuruma Hiromi, Criminal Defence Lawyer.

Knowing this detail of his life, a sweet overlay of understanding dawned upon you, his character suddenly so understandable, his anguish shooting through you like knives, and all too late, too late--

"...English?"

Your head jerked up, to the end of the alleyway. Silhouetted, dripping in the rain, bleeding and bruised but impossibly alive--

Your face crumpled, pressed into your wet sleeves, shaking. Slow splashing footsteps approached you, Hiromi kneeling in front of you, a hand coming out to graze through your hair.

He opened your dictionary, dusty and bloodstained, before flicking to a dog-eared page;

"Found you."

~ Marking

Drops this here and runs away

━━━━━━━━𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍━

❛ ONE SHOTS ❜

CHOSO

⚘݄

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

⚘݄

FUSHIGURO TOJI

⚘݄

GOJO SATORU

⚘݄

GETO SUGURU

⚘݄

HIGURUMA HIROMI

⚘݄

ITADORI YUJI

⚘݄

INUMAKI TOGE

⚘݄

KAMO NORITOSHI

⚘݄

KUSAKABE ATSUYA

⚘݄

NANAMI KENTO

⚘݄ DREAM BABY

OKKOTSU YUTA

⚘݄ Better without him

SUKUNA

⚘݄

❛ HEADCANONS ❜

None

❛ SERIES ❜

None

notes. © property of kodzukenmaa 2024. all rights reserved. likes and reblogs are well appreciated

The Widow's Keeper

Marrying again after losing your husband in Shibuya was never part of your plan. Then, Higuruma Hiromi came along.

Warnings: Character death, grief, angst, fluff

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A hysterical shriek-- a frantic cry for a man long dead-- rang through the bedroom, enveloped in the dark warmth of night, and broke down into anguished sobs. A soft shout of alarm, and hurried reassurances, sobs muffled, hands stroking, soothing, kisses on foreheads.

Hiromi held you to his chest, his pyjama top damp with your grief, his eyes gritty from sudden wakefulness. You cried away your grief, still so raw, replaying over and over in your dreams-- taunting you with 'what if's and 'if only's. Hiromi's nose nuzzled into your hair, both arms tightly holding you lest you fall apart against him, mumbling his sweet love in humid little breaths to your head.

It had been a while since you had dreamed of Nanami Kento, he pondered, rocking you gently from side-to-side. Dead and buried for almost 4 years now, Hiromi had married you and your trauma, your loss, your fallen love. He had taken you as the package you were, a complex parcel, and the mother of the second love of his life.

Little footsteps approached the door; little hands, cautious against the cool wood, pushed it open with a squeak.

"Mummy? Daddy? Is it a bad dream? You woke me up," grumbled your little girl, blonde and brown-eyed, with sharp delicate features. You sat up hurriedly, wiping your eyes and plastering on a damp smile. As you began moving to get out of bed, Hiromi laid a gentle hand on your thigh, kissing you on the temple.

"I'll take it from here," he hushed, and you sniffled, threatening tears again, "go back to sleep. I love you."

Planting a watery kiss to Hiromi's lips, you laid down in bed, burrowing your nose into his pillow, his smell, always feeling your adoration for him with the sting of guilt.

Hiromi scooted to the door, his loud shuffling footsteps pretending to be sneaky as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, nosing at her with deliberate snuffles. She giggled, batting him away, capturing his face in her little hands, slanted eyes narrow and delighted.

"Back to bed, little one. Your teddies can't sleep without you." Hiromi's playful bargaining wasn't needed, his daughter half-asleep in his arms already, while her arms wound around his neck to snuggle her head under his chin. By the time he had tucked her back into bed, she breathed soft snores, her bed still warm from the nest she had made.

Hiromi crouched by your daughter's bed, watching her, committing all of her features to memory; never this small, ever again, he thought, bittersweet as she grew, blooming. He stroked her hair, nursing the stale guilt of feeling he had stolen this life from another man, and feeling so deeply undeserving, so ashamed because of it.

While Hiromi knew his daughter-- your daughter, Kento's daughter-- more than Kento ever would, there felt to be an impenetrable wall to his love, an absence of a blood bond, stolen away from a man who did not want to leave his wife, and had not even known he was to become a father. Hiromi felt responsible, as if he had spirited you both away himself. He did not deserve to hold you through your grief; he did not deserve to be daddy.

Planting a last kiss to his daughter's forehead, a long-fingered hand stroking blond flicks out of her eyes, Hiromi tiptoed to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed back. A brown teddy with its familiar, well-fiddled-with and far-too-large-for-teddies yellow leopard-spotted tie, belonged in his daughters' arms, and not on the floor.

Padding back to your bedroom, a thief in the night, the sheets played a gentle susurrus over your bodies as Hiromi tangled his legs through yours, lying on his back so you could tuck across his chest. You slipped a hand under his t-shirt, travelling up to his chest to stroke its patch of downy black hair. Hiromi's fingers tangled through your hair, examining the whorls of your ear, rolling your earlobe in thought.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccuped into Hiromi's chest, and you heaved with sobs when his reassurance began before you had even finished apologising, his arms tightening around you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting it, look at me, come on darling, please, look at me.

Hiromi held your face, your cheeks squashed and blotchy with tears in his palms. He felt a trickle of disgust with himself run down his throat, as he stole his role as your hero from Kento, "None of that. You know you don't have to apologise for anything--"

"But I love him," you sobbed, voice cracking with devastated guilt, feeling like a filthy liar, a cheater, a bigamist, "I love him so much and I want him back, but I want you, Hiro, I-- I--" Hiromi nodded, still gazing into you, hooded dark eyes like little embers in the night. You felt a surge of appreciative, grateful love as he drank down your proclamations of love for another man, and wanted you anyway.

"If it were the other way round," Hiromi started, slow and deliberate, "if it were me who had died, and Kento loved you after...I would trust him completely to carry the torch for me. To give you two everything that I wouldn't be able to give."

You wept again, your face and chest aching, loss heavy in your soul. Hiromi kept you close, tethering you, repeating in a tender mantra; "You can love us both. You can love us both, because we both love you. You can love us both."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I...I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

Hiromi's words fell weakly, unanswered by the dead. Nanami Kento's grave was pristine under the hands of his many friends, his lover, his students, those he had saved. He was popular in death as he had been in life; not inundated with true friends, but awash with Bannermen and admirers, those who aspired to be like him, and those who aspired to be liked by him. An admission of guilt writhed in Hiromi's chest, bursting out in one strained cry.

"I can't feel sad that you died," Hiromi spat, disgusted not with Kento, but with himself, "because if you hadn't died, I wouldn't have them, and I'm a real piece of shit--"

"No you're not," a friendly voice drawled to Hiromi's left. Hiromi froze, eyes wide and paralyzed, dread creeping through him that someone had heard his biggest shame--

"-- and Nanami wouldn't have thought so, either. I bet she was the last thing he thought about-- worrying about her, who would look after her. He'd be happy. For her to have a good man. Like you."

Ino Takuma leaned down beside Hiromi, speaking a brief prayer above Kento, a wrapped, spotted blunt blade harnessed onto his back. Placing some fresh flowers down, he stood up again.

Hiromi and Ino were silent together amongst the rustling willows, the smooth dappling sunlight, the whispering babble of the shallow river. Ino rocked on his heels, smiling, hands pocketed. Hiromi hung his head in shame.

"You can...you can feel both, Higuruma. Regret for him dying and leaving her, and...and loving her, I guess. You're not a bad person. I bet she beats herself up for marrying again, right?"

Hiromi swallowed, nodding quickly after a breath's pause. Images flitted across his mind-- you, resplendent in your gown. Your daughter, so solemn on her big day, scattering petals down the aisle. Your earnest kiss, your joyful dancing, your gracious speech. Your wedding night breakdown, holding you in a hot bath in innocent intimacy, folding your lingerie away in favour of a soft nightdress, nothing expected, nothing lost, in life and in death, in sickness and in health.

"You've just...you've just got to be his wingman, y'know?" Ino stated, arms crossed up behind his balaclava'd head, "You and Nanami...you're both her husband. You're both my niece's dad. So big him up a bit for us, huh?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Hey, dad?"

Hiromi leaned round the fridge door, crows feet crinkling around his eyes as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, busted.

His daughter smirked at him, fine eyebrows raised under a smooth honey-blonde fringe. As tall as Hiromi, leggy and sarcastic, Hiromi didn't so much tell this young woman off now, as get savagely roasted by her dry wit. Hiromi took it with all of the frustrated joy of a father trying to parent a young woman with unparentably excellent traits.

"Cheese?" Hiromi offered, flicking a cube deftly at his daughter. She caught it, seamlessly, eyes narrowing at him. For all the bravado she was putting on, Hiromi knew she was putting it on. He headed over, pulling her to him with one arm, blonde head against black-grey head.

"Penny for them?"

She sighed, and began: "Did you...meet him?"

Him. Ah.

"I did not," Hiromi admitted, "but I know he was exceptional. Your mother has wonderful taste." He accepted the slap to his arm, well-deserved.

"I can never...I don't think I'll ever be as good as him." Hiromi's heart swelled and ached for his daughter; he felt an odd kinship, one of them in such a powerful shadow, one of them in such enormous shoes. Hiromi nodded, his throat thick.

"You're right," he said, his daughter's lips puckering up in grim acceptance, looking at the floor, "your dad was a hero. He protected the weak when nobody else wanted to. He took on the messy jobs with nothing more than a glass of whiskey and your mum's love behind him. He was funny, kind, patient, empathetic... he was the best of the best. The best sort of man. He's a legend even now."

"So, no, sweetheart, you're never going to be as good as him," Hiromi turned to his daughter, cupping her high-cheeked face in his hands, pressing her to look at him, "you're going to be better. You have all three of us in you, and you carry it so well."

Hiromi's daughter let out a dry sob, refusing to let tears fall. She sniffled, pulling close to Hiromi, letting herself be held. Rubbing her nose and pulling her hair behind one ear, she reached behind her onto a chair, revealing a black, rectangular handled case.

"Uncle Ino gave me something, today," she started, unclipping the case, "he said it was dad's. I thought I...I want to use it. Like he did."

Hiromi gazed fondly down at the blade of legends, white wrapping yellowed at the edges with age, but still just as deadly. He smiled, and your daughter relaxed into his wordless reassurance.

"Yes. Absolutely. It's the only...you're the only one who could do this old thing justice, now," Hiromi pressed, eager to hold Kento and his child together across the impenetrable veil of death, "but I have to warn you."

His daughter glanced to Hiromi, anxious. He took a deep breath, and continued;

"Your mother will cry when she sees this."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A few tears slipped out while I wrote this.

it's raining outside, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor.

the soft pit-patter of raindrops coupled with his dancing fingertips against the exposed skin of your waist is a song you haven't quite learnt the tune to yet — he lays on his side, hair tousled and damp, dark strands curling over his forehead, sleeves rolled up and tie forgotten somewhere in the doorway.

admittedly, you're in no better shape. your cheeks are cold, skin of your calves wet with rainwater from running across the busy streets with him, armful of whatever ingredients you two picked out for dinner, his suit jacket held above your head and the occasional chorus of laughter when either of you stomp a puddle and splash the other.

it's raining, and higuruma thinks he falls in love with you every single day, like it's born anew.

he falls in love with the girl he wakes up next to, mouth open and cheek smooshed into the pillows. he falls in love with the girl who doesn't know a thing about law, but argues better than him in the heat of the moment. he falls in love with the girl who kicked her boots through puddles of rain, ruining his pants — the girl who made him laugh about something so mundane.

it's raining, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor, oddly paired with his formal white shirt and a pair of pajamas, his dress pants draped over the washer — the dryer broke a few days ago, he forgot — he holds you close as he watches the water droplets race against the glass window.

he loves you.

“do you like the rain?” you ask him, head tucked into his neck, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, the question is lost on him for a moment.

“i like you.”

you don't respond yet, and higuruma opens one of his eyes, only to find you staring at him. “more than you like the rain?” he almost laughs at that, almost, and he pulls you impossibly closer.

“a lot more than i like the rain, i’m sure.”

it's raining outside, and higuruma never really liked when it rained, not at all.

he proposed to you in spring. married you in summer.

but now he hopes it rains tomorrow, he hopes you still want him then, and he hopes you'll splash him with another puddle.

If I Wasn't So Fucked Up (I'd Fuck You All The Time) ᡣ𐭩 higuruma hiromi

minors do not interact! | mdni!

summary: hiromi was not someone who sought intimacy or relationships, and he lacked experience with women. however, he ended up with a wonderful girlfriend, you. he tries to take care of you, but sometimes struggles with expressing his emotions. he is often busy, leaving you feeling lonely. he finds it difficult to come to terms with your unhappiness and does his best to make it up to you. tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, no use of y/n, anxious!reader, crybaby!reader, reader has hair, mention of cigarettes, healthy relationship dynamic, self-indulgent, heavy smut, heavy fluff, pillow talk at the end, slight angst, hurt to comfort, makeup sex, mutual obsession, crying, talk about issues in relationships, p in v, foreplay, pet names ("darling", "baby", "love", "my love"'). wc: 5.8k

a/n: a character.ai bot i made inspired this piece! here is the link if you are interested.

As Hiromi drags his feet through the front door, warm, ambient lighting and the aroma of a freshly cooked meal instantly greet him, hitting his nose. He then drapes his coat across a dining room chair before taking off his shoes, neatly placing them beside yours. He sighs in relief as you suddenly appear in front of him. You smile at him, but it doesn't meet your eyes. You reached up, softly undoing his tie while refusing to meet his gaze.

"Are you hungry?" You ask softly, flickering your eyes up at him as you place a hand gently on his chest. A small smile tugs at his lips as he gazes at you, his large, weary eyes taking in every tiny detail of your face. He can tell something is not quite right: you look tired and worn. And your usual loving warmth feels more far away. Still, you look just as beautiful as always.

“Yes,” he says quietly, a hint of exhaustion lingering. He raises a hand, running a few fingers through your curls as you undo his tie.

"Something smells good.", he adds before leaning in and kissing your head.

You pull away, pecking his lips before returning to the kitchen to prepare his plate.

As you retreat into the kitchen, Hiromi's gaze lingers, following your movements while he rolls his head on his shoulders. He makes his way to one of the dining chairs, taking a seat before he loosens the top buttons of his dress shirt. He finds his mind preoccupied after the workday, and his entire body feels physically heavy, but being in your presence puts him at ease - there’s no one else he’d rather spend his evenings with after work.

Placing his plate in front of him, you fill two glasses of wine before sitting next to him. You bite your lip hesitantly as you watch him take his first bite; your eyes are more absent than usual.

"Is it good?" You force out, eyes fluttering over towards him.

Hiromi takes notice of your distant expression and how your gaze is unfocused as you stare at him. A slight frown momentarily creases his brow, but he gives you a nod, a reassuring smile forming on his lips as he turns to look back at the food.

"It's wonderful. Thank you.", Hiromi replies in a low tone, his voice softened by exhaustion. Despite your far-off attitude, he lifts a piece of food onto his fork and takes another large bite.

"You're welcome." You respond, offering him a smile before a thick silence consumes the scene.

As the moment stretches, an uncomfortable silence takes over. The quiet ambiance of the room feels heavy with tension, and a sense of unease settles within Hiromi. He furrows his brow slightly before taking a sip from his glass of wine, his mind racing as the distance grows between you.

"Is everything alright?" he manages to ask, his voice soft and filled with concern. He places his fork onto his plate, turning fully towards you to decipher your expression.

As you look up at him, guilt seems almost to swallow you whole.

"No, no... I mean, yes! Everything's fine." You stammer, taking a sip of wine to hide your embarrassment.

"Just a long day..." You half-lie because, in truth, it was.

He looks into your eyes and sees you struggling to conceal your emotions. He reaches for your hand, gently holding it while rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His expression is concerned but calm, and he squeezes slightly.

"Long day? Would you like to talk about it, love?" he asks softly, his voice a low rumble. Perhaps it's due to his exhaustion, but all he can focus on is the apparent strain on you - he can't ignore that something is weighing on your mind.

"It's fine..." You try to convince him (and yourself). Yet all you can focus on is the smoothness of his voice and the weight of his large hand encompassing yours. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed gentle circles into your skin. Concern draws his heavy brows together, and his eyes plead. You feel your body grow warm from your desires, the red wine sitting in your belly doing little to help.

"You're stressed and..." You start, your eyes fluttering over his face, taking in his handsome features. "I just don't want to put anymore onto you."

His expression remains concerned as he listens to you, and he squeezes your hand once more, silently reassuring you that he is willing to listen. He can practically hear the tension in your voice as you speak, making his chest ache. A part of him yearns to know what's going on, but another part wants to pull you into his embrace and soothe you.

"If anything is bothering you...you can talk to me, love." He promises with a sweet kiss to your hand.

"I just... miss you." You admit weakly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes darting back down to your combined hands. You nervously begin fidgeting with his fingers.

"I rarely see you, and we haven't gone out in a while. You only come home when I'm asleep most of the time, and then you leave again before I wake up. We haven't... done it either." You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment and guilt, but it feels good to get it out finally.

His heart clenches at your words. He wants to hold you, pull you close in his arms, and bury his face in your hair. He can practically feel the hurt in your voice, which makes him hurt, too, but he grips your hand instead.

"You're right.", he begins softly, his voice filled with guilt and regret. "I...I have been working almost non-stop this month, and I promise you there's nothing I'd rather do than spend more time with you. I'll try harder, I'll do better..."

"I don't want you to feel like it's your fault." You shake your head quickly, feeling the guilt weigh further on your shoulders. "You're good to me and always take care of me. I–I know how demanding and strenuous your work is. I feel bad for asking so much of you, but…” Your words jumble as your mind scrambles, and you let out a long sigh, trying to blink back the rising wetness in your eyes.

"Darling... look at me." he gently cuts you off, softly but firmly, as he lifts his free hand to your face and gently turns it towards him. Despite the fatigue that's settled in his bones, exhaustion and weariness filling his every move, his eyes look you over with regard and care.

"You're not demanding...not at all. And you're not in the wrong for feeling like you miss me or want me home more often - it's alright that you feel this way; I know I'm still here, with you, always."

Smiling crookedly, the lump in your throat grows tighter, and your vision clouds as you look up at him. Hiromi had always been patient with you, never judgmental, and always kind. You feared your emotions were too big—too sensitive, but he never seemed to mind; he seemed to cherish it.

"I know, I just... don't want to put any more pressure on you." You swallow thickly, hoping to suffocate the urge to cry in front of him.

Your words make his heartache for you even more, his thumb tracing circles into the skin of the back of your hand in a way to soothe you, his other hand gently caressing your cheek. He leans in a little closer, searching your face.

"Darling... I want you to tell me when these things bother you; you're not putting pressure on me; you're just expressing how you feel. And I want to listen to you. I'll always listen to you, alright?"

His words hit home, breaking the dam you were struggling to maintain. Fresh tears slipped down your cheeks before your hands quickly wiped them away. You sniffle, your smile shaky, and you gaze up at him through glistening eyes. The words: ‘Thank you’ sit on your tongue heavily, yet it feels strange thanking him for something you shouldn't be thanking him for. He's just so good — unabashedly and without selfish reasons.

"I love you." You say instead, and it comes out strangled and pitched, but you force it out nonetheless.

His mouth forms a tight line as he watches you, his chest constricting at your tears and the sound of your voice wavering as you speak. He leans in closer, gently tugging your hand, and he brings you towards him, his other arm wrapping around you and pulling you into him.

"It's alright, my love... there there..." He speaks softly and gently, running a hand soothingly over your back as he pulls you closer. He presses a gentle kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then your forehead.

"I love you too, always."

You giggle at his attempt to console you, contentedly purring as you sink into his embrace. "You're so good to me." You mumble aloud, half of your face squished against his chest.

He pulls you closer still, letting you bury your face into his chest while his arms wrap around you tighter. He rests his chin on your head, running one hand through your hair, and holds you close while you sit perched on top of him. His heart finally settles slightly at the sound of your laugh and the feeling of your body pressed close to his, and he lets out a quiet huff from his nose.

"Of course... you mean everything to me.", he whispers, his voice slightly muffled.

A wide smile splits across your face from his words, your cheeks growing warmer. His voice washed over your being like an incredible wave on a hot summer's day, forcing your body into a calm state of arousal. The feeling of his large, warm hands scoping the reins of your waist causes a shiver to roll up your spine. His pectorals are large, soft, and squishy through his wrinkled, white button-up that you rest your cheek upon.

As you feel his lips press against the top of your head, you drink in the musky, woody smell attached to his clothes. A faint scent of pine and cigarettes clings to his body, a subtle reminder that you know he's been smoking more than usual this month, no doubt from the stress of his job. You never say anything, but you worry. And you know that he knows you worry.

"Hiromi..." You breathe, writhing in his embrace, your thighs pressed together. "It's been so long..." You begin, your voice shy of its usual self-confidence, worried you’d ask for too much. Just last week, when you had tried to initiate intimacy, he had explained he was too exhausted and had promised "another time" that never came. Of course, you remained patient and would never ask for more than he could give. And yet you were growing more and more needy as time went on. Hiromi was a passionate lover, but his libido seemed to be less as intense as yours was.

Your words make his heart flutter as he feels you shift, his eyes flickering down to where you had pressed your thighs together, and his breath hitches for a moment in his throat. His hold around you tightens as if he were worried you would pull away from him, his hand gently playing with the soft strands of your hair while you focus his senses.

"Darling..." he begins quietly as his thumb reaches up, carefully grazing your bottom lip, feeling the slight moisture from your tears still clumped on the skin.

"I... I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry; s’not your fault." You reassure him, your heart clenching at his voice's tone yet beating faster at the feel of his finger against your bottom lip. You press your lips against the tip of his thumb, causing a shuddering breath to leave his mouth.

"I just miss you..." You breathe, pressing your chest against him, your eyes darting towards his lips.

"I know... I miss you too.", he murmurs, gently shifting to close the remaining distance between you. He bends his head down, palm cradling your face as he presses an achingly tender kiss, sighing softly against your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, letting your hands rest gently against his stubbly cheeks. He hadn't shaved in some time, but you quite like the 'disheveled' look on him.

You kissed him back softly or tried to, at least, quickly becoming more and more aroused. ‘It's been so long,’ you justify your impatience inside your head. ‘He just looks so good, smells so good, feels so good’ — the mantra in your head continues. It's not long before your trembling fingers undo his shirt's buttons, desperate to feel his warm skin against yours. His body shudders in response.

His breathing wavers just slightly as he feels you press harder against his lips. Your impatient moans and the way you hungrily press against him sparks even more desire deep within him. Before Hiromi realizes what he's doing, he's pulling you closer than before, practically into his lap, as he deepens your kiss.

He slides his hand to the back of your head, burying his fingers into your hair as he continues to explore the heat of your mouth.

Once you finish unbuttoning his shirt, you don’t bother wasting time by shrugging the rest of it off; instead, you instantly glide your hands down his body and back up again. Without even realizing it, your body begins moving on its own — your hips grinding down against his thigh.

"Missed you..." You huff as you part from his mouth, your chest heaving in lack of oxygen. Your lips find his ear, nibbling softly, and you undo his belt with one hand, the other still pawing at him.

Your movements draw shaky breaths from him, his hands roaming down your sides to settle on your waist. Despite his fatigue and exhaustion, he feels desire and warmth surge through his core as you unbutton his pants, and he gently pulls back to give you a moment to breathe.

"Darling... wait..." he mutters against you, his voice coming out in breathy pants, his forehead resting against yours.

"What's wrong? Do you want to stop?" You panic, worry and guilt quickly settle in at your restlessness.

"Nothing's wrong..." he reassures with a small smile, gently caressing your cheek, and shakes his head. "I just think we might be more comfortable in the bedroom."

He then pauses, a slight frown settling onto his expression, and he cups your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the skin under your eye.

"Are you sure you want to do this...? You don't have to, I-"

You quiet him with a deep kiss, pulling him upwards and guiding him towards the room. You pull him along quickly, hastiness settling into your bones.

"Need you so badly, Hiro." You whine once you enter, quickly discarding your clothes before him.

He lets himself be dragged into your bedroom, slightly stumbling as he follows behind you, and a breathless laugh leaves him once you begin undressing in front of him. His eyes can't help but rove over your curves and the soft expanse of your skin, and once you toss aside the last of your clothes, he steps closer towards you with a determined edge to the way he moves.

"Darling..." he mumbles as he pulls you into him, his mouth grazing your jaw before his teeth sink into the crook of your neck.

Your sudden gasp trails off into a high-pitched mewl. You close your eyes in bliss, grasping at his messy hair as your body arches further into him.

He closes his eyes as he relishes the mewls and gasps you produce as he sinks his teeth into soft flesh, his hands roaming over your bare form, touching you everywhere and yet never staying in one place for long. He pulls back, panting heavily against your skin, and he trails his mouth down and across the slope of your shoulder before he lifts you off of your feet and onto the bed.

You quickly sink into the plush mattress, giggles leaving your lips as your excitement becomes too much. Your mind repeatedly screams: ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ as Hiromi shrugs off the remainder of his clothes. You bite your lip as you watch, your eyes practically glowing with hunger and anticipation.

"You're so handsome... so sexy." You giggle, sighing in utter happiness as you watch him with rapt attention.

His breath gets caught in his throat for a moment at your words, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into an intimate smile as he lets himself sink onto the bed before you, his knee slotting between your legs and hands coming to rest beside your head as he pins you between his arms.

"And you're gorgeous, darling..." he answers before his head dips down towards your neck again, his teeth and lips grazing over your skin, and he bites down on your collarbone as he lets out a huff.

"You're the most beautiful person." You confess longingly, kissing the top of his head as your hands explore the length of his back.

He chuckles breathlessly against your skin, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, and he sighs, shifting closer to press even more against you. At your compliment, however, he lifts back up to look at you, the pink hue that had been dusted across his cheeks turning even darker.

"You're far too sweet to me..." he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours, and he gently caresses your cheek as those warm, brown eyes of his lock gaze with yours.

You don’t bother with a reply, only turning your head slightly to kiss the inside of his hand, your lustful gaze never leaving his.

A fond smile twitches at the corners of his lips, but that smile slips once more as he leans down again and presses his mouth to yours. His tongue quickly sneaks past his mouth and flicks out to brush against your own, his teeth grazing gently along your bottom lip.

One hand slips down towards your hip, wrapping under you and lifting your hips towards his, and he lets out a quiet, shaky groan at the press he feels against his growing desire.

You happily swallow his groan, flicking your tongue desperately into his mouth. Your hand reaches upwards, settling against his own, which he keeps cradled against your cheek.

"You're s'big..." you moan, feeling him harden against you.

A low groan leaves his mouth as he lets his eyes flutter closed at your words, his cheeks growing warmer at the compliment. The sound of your voice is the only thing registering through the fuzzy haze that had settled into his mind, his body growing warmer and warmer as you press flush against him.

He dips his head back down, his mouth coming to nip and bite at your neck, kissing and laving his tongue over the skin as he works to leave a visible mark.

You wrap your legs around his slim waist, heels digging into his backside to urge him further against you. You lift your hips, arching your back as you rest your head against the bed, panting with want and desire. "Need you..." You repeat, dragging your hand through his hair.

He lets you nudge him, and the feeling makes a dizzyingly overwhelming heat spread in his gut. He groans lowly against your skin; he presses himself and grinds against you as his body begins to move on autopilot. He can feel the heat of your breath against his skin when you whine, and he lifts his head to look at you.

"Say it again..." he orders quietly with a groan.

"Need you, Hiromi... please?" You beg; your voice is high-pitched and whiny. Your skin burns up from the intensity, down to your toes. Your eyes are glassy from unshed tears, and your lips are red and shiny with your combined spit. A slight sheen of sweat had formed on your face and body from the shared heat of your bodies pressed together and your breasts heaving with every breath you took. Your eyes were lidded with want, looking up at him like he had hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you; like he was the only person in the world.

He stares down at you, his breathing ragged and shallow as he takes in the sight of the way you looked, so utterly breathless and undone. The way you mewl up at him, the way your hair splayed out against the pillows, and the feeling of you cupping his cheek make his breath hitch in his throat, and the heat in his gut grow further.

He stares down at you for a few more moments before he dips down to capture your mouth in another kiss, his hands gently resting against your hips.

Hiromi can taste the desperate desire on your tongue as he lets his teeth catch your lower lip and lets his body rest against you, his chest flushed against your soft skin, and he can feel your heat against him, sending a shiver down the length of his spine. His hands slip down to rest against your bare thighs, and he presses in closer, grinding against you in response to the way you arch your back once more.

"Need you inside..." You breathe into his lips, swollen, red, and glossy. "Please?" You plead, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

He shudders as you utter the words into his mouth, and he nods in agreement, biting gently at your lip before he pulls back to look down at you. There's a slight flush on his cheeks, and when his eyes dart down again, he can see just how red- and bruised your lips were because of him.

His breath stuttered at the sight, and he leaned in to press his mouth against your neck, his lips trailing up toward your ear. "Anything you want..." he whispers.

You moan at his words, trailing your hand downwards, wrapping your hand around his cock: red, angry, and drooling down your fingers. It twitches with interest as soon as your skin makes contact with it.

His hips stutter at your hand wrapping around him, and his teeth graze against your earlobe at the sensation, his breathing hitching, and he moans as his body moves on instinct, rolling against your palm in a way that makes his blood burn hotter. His mouth latches against yours, silencing his gasps against your tongue.

You move your hand faster, desperate for more of his reactions before you slow it back down, too impatient to have him inside of you as you guide him towards your drooling pussy.

His body arches against you when you guide him inside; he can hear how his breath stutters when it catches in his throat. He can feel how hot and slicked you are against him. His breath leaves him in short gasps, biting down on your skin as he lets his desire drive him forward, thrusting hard until he’s balls deep inside of you.

"Fuck, baby,” you keen, tossing your head back as you claw at his hips desperately. "'missed this." You gasp, your eyes fluttering at the feel of him stretching you open.

He can feel the heat of your breath against his skin as you moan out for him, and his hands come to grip your hips, his nails leaving behind red lines he knows will turn angrier soon enough. He shudders against you, and his brain feels fogged over as pure need for you washes over him, leaving him in a delirious haze.

The way you say you missed him so earnestly makes him feel dizzy with pleasure, "Missed this too..." he mumbles against your skin.

"Yeah?" You giggle breathlessly, raking your nails through his hair and down his back. "…haah…Did you think about me–" you let out another moan as he began moving his hips. "when you were away?" You kiss his ear.

He buries his face against your neck at your question, groaning as he pushes in further, savoring the way your body feels against him. Your nails against his skin make his breathing shallow, and the sound of your moans makes his head feel too fuzzy, "I thought about you all the time..." he mumbles against your skin, his voice low and shaky.

"Me too." You confess, tightening your thighs around his waist. "Played with my pussy thinking you: at work...in your suit..." You whispered into his ear about your fantasies of him, all the while pressing kisses into his skin.

As you spoke, he could feel the heat pooling in his gut and how your words went straight to his dick, feeling it twitch even more inside you. He groaned as he rocked into you, and his hands on your hips tightened. "Did you really?" he breathes against your skin, biting and sucking against your neck.

You pull his head out from your neck, smiling up at him with a crooked, dopey, cock-drunken grin, your eyes lidded as you bite your lip. You lick a stripe of beaded sweat trailing down his neck up to his jaw, sucking at his skin that you know for sure will leave a mark. You pull away with a pop, satisfied with the blooming reddened skin. He lets out a loud, stuttering gasp.

"Every day," You answer with a huff, looking deep into his eyes with a pleased smile.

He can feel your body beneath him, writhing in response to the way he moves, and it drives him into fucking you harder. He gives a sharp thrust upward, groaning as he lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder as leverage.

You keen again, your mouth falling open in a perfect 'O' as your eyes close shut. "Yes!" You mewl sweetly, your nails digging into his biceps. "Just like that, Hiro." You praise, arching your back further as you chase the intense feeling.

His groans grow louder and more desperate-sounding as you praise him, and the feeling of your nails in his skin makes him whine. He takes the praise to heart as he moves against you, shifting with a new sense of purpose as he gives another sharp thrust upward to press against you.

Your voice grows uncontrollably louder, drawn-out whines and wanton moans spilling from your lips without a single thought in your mind. You couldn't even form the words to praise Hiromi if you tried.

"Don't stop!" You begged, your climax drawing closer and closer.

His fingers dig into your skin as he moves against you, the heat in his gut and the all-consuming sensation spreading across his body, making his breath shallower and his vision start to blur. The way your voice grows more and more desperate leaves him breathless, and your moans drive him even further.

He could feel you tightening around him, making his body burn hotter, and he shudders at the feeling, pressing into you further. The sounds of your combined lovemaking grow louder: the heavy, wet slap of skin against skin, the shameful groans and keens of pleasure, and the panting breaths mingled with the sound of lips smacking against one another. "So perfect..." he manages to gasp out, his voice shaky.

You felt your body pulsating at his praise, pawing desperately at his body in hopes of grounding yourself from the onslaught of pleasure.

"Says you..." You moaned, digging your heels into his lower back.

He groans low in his throat as he presses against you, his head growing dazed from the heat and the feeling of your nails on his skin. He could feel his breathing grow more shallow with each breath he took, his hips beginning to jerk against you. "So perfect for you..." he gasped out, pulling you even closer against himself as he leaned down to press his mouth to your neck.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry at his words, so you opted to moan louder. "M'so close, love." You confessed before your voice cut off, tossing your head back. Your lips fall open in a silent scream as you convulse around him, spraying his lower half in your release. You continued to let out pitched whines and mewls, your eyes rolling back in overstimulation.

He groaned into your neck as your body convulsed around him, the feeling of you squeezing around him making his thoughts grow even more scattered. He whines as he moves against you, not stopping for a second as he tries to ride it out with you.

You’re left breathless, and you struggle to keep still as he moves against you through your orgasm, his name falling from your lips in gasps and moans.

Your voice and stuttering breaths make it hard for him to think, but he leans into you, pushing a hand through your hair to pull you in for a trembling and messy kiss, his mouth moving against yours sloppily. His breath still staggers, and the feeling of you underneath him makes his body grow even hotter as he continues to push, his thrusts becoming sharper and faster as he chases his end.

You practically scream into his kiss, pushing weakly at his lower abdomen even as your hips still chase his. "Inside... please come inside me..." You pant hotly into his ear.

His hands tighten on your hip at your words, his breathing growing shaky, and he buries his face against your neck as he shudders at the way your body feels beneath him, "Want you - want you..." he gasps out against your skin, a moan leaving him as Hiromi moves faster against you, his body almost dizzy with need as he presses against you, his rhythm and pace growing more irregular as his release grew closer and closer.

"Want you too— mmph!... haah... all the time!" You intertwine your hands in his, squeezing it in your grip.

He bites at your skin to muffle the sounds he makes at your words, his hand squeezing against yours. His own pace grows sloppier, his movements jerky as he grows closer to his release, his breath coming out in shaky huffs against your skin as his body shudders with need and pleasure.

"Say my name... fuck!... when you cum, baby." You beg, mouthing kisses against his chin.

He groans into your skin at your words, his breath ragged and more hitched as he gets closer. He presses another kiss against your skin, his breath warm against your face as he huffs out your name against your cheek. He gasps out as his pace grows rougher and quicker before giving a final thrust up against you as he comes undone, his body tense and rigid against you.

You smile widely, biting your lip with a surprised gasp. Feeling Hiromi pulse and shoot ropes inside of you always felt so heavenly, like a reward. You look up at his pussy-drunk expression and giggle, your heart filled with too much love to carry.

"Sounded like a good one." You huff, dragging your nails down his back while your other hand holds his face.

Hiromi buries his face against your neck again as he struggles to catch his breath, his body still pressed against you, and he can feel the way his chest rises and falls from how he struggles to control his breathing. He groans at the feeling of your nails on his back, and his breath hitches when your other hand comes up to hold his face, his expression turning more dazed from your touch as he presses his hand against yours.

He pulls away from your neck, softly panting as he looks down at you with a crooked, sleepy smile. "Yeah... yeah, it was..." he sighs out.

"You're a mess, my love." You sigh, kissing him softly before urging him to roll over onto his back. "Y'should get some sleep." You smile down at him with your own sleepy, fucked-out grin, looking at him with nothing but love and adoration.

He willingly goes when you urge him to, groaning at the feeling of your mouth against his as he rolls over onto his back. He looks up at you affectionately, returning your smile contentedly. "So should you..." he mumbles, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before letting his hand rest against your cheek.

You hum in agreement, snuggling up against him. "Wish we could do that all the time." You mumble sleepily.

He chuckles, one arm wrapping around you and holding you closer against himself, kissing your forehead. "We would die..." he grumbles tiredly, tilting his head to lean his face against yours.

"Not that I'd be against the idea...".

"I'd die pretty happy." You weakly chuckle as exhaustion overtakes you.

He laughs again, the sound of a soft huff of breath against your skin as he nuzzles further against you. "As would I..." he mumbles, his eyes growing lidded and heavier with sleep, his exhaustion catching up with him.

Despite that, he still takes the time to press another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you in even closer toward him.

"I love you, Hiromi... s’much." You kiss his chest.

He closes his eyes and lets out a deep, tired exhale, smiling as he listens to your words. At your kiss against his chest, his grip around you tightens, pulling you closer to himself as he mumbles out his response against your hair. "I love you too..."

main masterlist, rules

"My love, mine all mine"

JJK Characters as oddly specific romantic scenarios.

Contains -> Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU GOJO as randomly giving flowers.  

The action is unpredictable, unexpected — very similar to the unpredictable tendencies of the Special Grade. Gojo is never a one-trick pony, never does he want you to grow bored or tired of him (not that you ever will, obviously). Money did not matter to him, not when it came down to you. If a bouquet of flowers cost an arm and a leg, Gojo would gladly take a saw and get to work.  

If he happens to see a bouquet of flowers that would just look gorgeous on your desk, he’s throwing various bills at the florist and beelining for where he knows you’ll be. Gojo loves you, which is absolutely not a secret to anyone around him, and him randomly going out of his way to buy you flowers only reminds you of that bursting love that he has for you … and only you. And maybe, just maybe, he'll leave a small handwritten note with a scrawled declaration of just how much you mean to him.  

SUGURU GETO as admiring the rain. 

How serene and tranquil it is to just admire nature’s tears with Geto. Neither of you have to say anything, not that you want to — lest you want the loving silence to be tainted with whispered words. You don’t mind the silence, and nor does he. It's comfortable, peaceful, and it allows you both to momentarily forget about the world that you lived in. Instead, you could bask in the warmth that Geto emanates, clinging to it like a moth would cling to a light that they found.  

Geto’s arm is loosely draped over your waist, your side molding into his own like two pieces of a puzzle. Your head tucked against his shoulder, ears perked to listen to the rain’s gentle pattering. Geto’s fingers trace mindless shapes into your skin, content to sit in your presence. You carry with you a softness that Geto knew could never be replicated, reminding him that the things that have been done to him and by him are things long left in the past. For now, he could be Suguru – and he would only ever be Suguru around you.  

KENTO NANAMI as tying untied shoelaces.  

Late night walks where your shoes just won’t seem to cooperate. For as tight as the knots initially felt, they only loosened with each step you took. Even his steps had noticeably slowed to be in sync with your own, being sure to not accidentally leave you behind. Always attentive to you, reminding you that he loves you with a gentle squeeze to your fingers. The eyes behind his eyeglasses soften as you return his squeezes, but their softness is replaced then by a flicker of concern as you stumble, nearly rolling your ankle against the pavement.  

And so he pauses your walk, releasing the gentle grip he has on your hand and touching his knee to the ground. Fingers loop through the undone laces, expertly knotting them before softened eyes flicker up to your own. Your cheeks flush at the sheer adoration that swims in his eyes, your gaze flickering away from his own as a mumbled thanks falls from your lips. But he does not miss the curl of your lips – wearing that sweet smile that Nanami wishes that he could forever commit to memory. Nanami imagines an alternate scenario from his position, one where he holds silver and slips it onto your finger. Eventually… 

TOJI FUSHIGURO as late night drives.  

With gentle music and the soft rumble of the engine, it’s no wonder that you feel so incredibly safe sitting in the passenger seat of Toji’s (Shiu’s) car. Your hand rests on the back of Toji’s, which lays against your thigh — squeezing every few seconds in a silent ‘I love you’. His declaration spoken in a language that only you understand, one crafted for you and one used only when you were around.  

Your drives aren't known to have a set destination, just filled with senseless turns that never have a true end thought out. Many of them are silent, the car only filled with the sounds of your pre-prepared playlist of songs that both you and Toji enjoyed, but there are times where the car is filled with soft conversation recounting past experiences or simply reciting the day’s events. But one thing is for certain, only you could make the great Toji Fushiguro soft. 

CHOSO as shared routines.  

Your presence in Choso’s life has brought about notable changes to the course of his day — namely his routine and how he decides to spend the mornings and nights. What was once simply waking up and immediately moving about has now become remaining tangled in the sheets for five (sometimes ten) extra minutes. What was once a simple brushing of the teeth has now become a multi-step skincare routine and lengthy shower. 

His day just wouldn’t be the same without your shoulder brushing against his own as you both cleaned your teeth. It wouldn’t be the same without you brushing through his hair and styling it for him with the gentlest of hands. His nights wouldn’t be the same without your body against his in the bath, sponge rubbing away the day’s tension. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same without you wrapped in his arms, gentle snores fanning against his neck as you doze off — wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.  

RYOMEN SUKUNA as shared glances.  

They say that the eyes are the true window into the soul, detailing the true feelings of what resides within and bringing it forth in a discreet, almost unknown, manner. Fleeting glances can speak the same amount as a full-length conversation. Softened irises can shine with love and narrowed pupils can convey rage equivalent to that of a freshly sharpened dagger. Sukuna’s eyes were no exception to the rule — the love he held for you couldn’t be hidden behind pointed glares, not when they softened immediately upon finding you.  

The moment your eyes met his own, soft and gentle, something in him promptly melts. How funny that the King of Curses would find himself staring at you — a simple sorcerer — with crinkled eyes. Was he smiling? No, no he’d never admit to ever smiling, but the sight of you just brings one to his face so naturally. Your head turns so that your gaze meets his own, silently reading each other’s eyes before you smile at him. And though he wants so badly to scoff and turn the other way, for you … he returns it.  

HIROMI HIGURUMA as being picked up from work.  

It was no secret that there were creeps lining the streets of the city, prowling around underneath the cloak that night provided and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Wandering around at night, while not inherently dangerous, did not sit well in the stomach of Hiromi. He knew that you were able to handle yourself well, you were no stranger to defending yourself in situations where you needed to – but he still could not quell the pit of worry that bubbled in the pit of his chest whenever you were kept late at your office.  

And so, to keep a sound mind, Hiromi would wait outside the double doors of your office building, smiling against your hair as your body molds into his own. His nose nestles itself into your hair, inhaling the familiarity of your scent – a soft mixture of lavender and rose. The hug lasts for as long as you need it to, broken only when you decide to take a step back. The passenger side door to Hiromi's car is then opened for you, your hand is held as you step inside, and a kiss is pressed to your cheek all before the door shuts.  

INO TAKUMA as sharing food.  

Relationships are meant to be 50/50, an even split that ensures that one party does not contribute more or less to the relationship than the other. To say that Ino believes in balance in his relationship with you would be the understatement of the century – he never wants you to feel as if you're doing too much or that he's doing too little for you. Ino also believes very heavily in sharing everything with you; personal stories, clothes, drinks, and of course, food.  

Never will he order the same thing as you, knowing that at one point or another, you'd try whatever snack or meal he had ordered for himself. Your eyes would flicker to his plate or to the ice cream in his hand, then to his eyes, silently asking permission. With a smile akin to that of a lovesick teenager, Ino extends whatever it is that he's eating to you, feeling his heart warm at the sound of your satisfied hum. You kiss his cheek in thanks before offering him whatever it was that you had ordered. Rinse and repeat, and suddenly you're both sharing two meals as opposed to enjoying one for yourself – and neither of you would change it for the world.  

YUUJI ITADORI as stargazing.  

Something about the silence that night provides paired with the gentle light that the stars in the night sky had always been so calming for you, always carrying with it a sense of serenity that could only be replicated by something as soft as a mother's love or a hug. And like a moth drawn to a light, you found yourself admiring those very stars every single night – now you had someone to share that peace with, someone to bask in the warm light that the stars provided.  

Laid out over a blanket, two pairs of eyes watch the twinkling stars with a fascination only replicated by that of a child. For a moment the world is silent, filled only with the sounds of your breathing and Yuuji's. His hand is intwined with yours, thumb rubbing back and forth against the backs of your knuckles. Your cheek is against his shoulder, both your eyes and his shut in complete serenity. Those are the nights where you can just be children, as in reality, it is what you both are.  

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO as interlocking pinkies.  

Not everyone is affectionate, not everyone is able to easily convey their love through prolonged physical touches such as a hug or a passionate kiss. Certain love languages come easily to some people, but to others it may be a touch more difficult. Some convey it through words, others convey it through actions that are a little more hidden, secretive. Megumi, for as quiet as he is, falls into the secretive category when it comes to displaying his love for you.  

He loves you, hell, he would devote himself to you entirely if given the chance, he just finds it a touch difficult to display that love for you through means of physical touch. That does not mean he won't hug you or indulge in your kisses, it just means that he may not be the one to initiate those actions. But there is an exception to this little rule, and that is the fact that Megumi will always link his pinkie with your own when walking on your side. The smile that worms its way onto his face the moment that his skin touches yours is missed by everyone, but never ever will it be missed by you – and to him, you are all that matters anyway.  

Higuruma Hiromi x reader<3 (nsfw)

hiromi likes girls (his gf) who are a little (very) mean to him. CANON I ASKED GEGE.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Higuruma stands in the doorway of your bedroom, Hes been staring at you for a good while now, even before you noticed.

Looking at how your little dress hugs your pretty body.

you wave a hand infront of his face.

“whats up with you today…freak,” you say and laugh at him, the corner of his mouth tugs a little before going back to his usual, blank face.

“i cant look at whats mine? hm?” he says smoothly and plays with a strand of your hair.

“urgh,” you roll your eyes and turn away from him. You know he loves it, when you act like a little spoiled princess.

he grabs your arm and pull you back to him softly. He looks into your eyes again, something else than adoration behind them this time.

“hirom-“

“i thought about what you said,”

huh?

you look at him in question.

He smirks a little before speaking, “you know….about my nose,”

A couple days ago he’d told you how he used to hate his nose when he was younger. You’d frowned and taken his face in your pretty manicured hands and told him it was one of your favorite things about his appearance. It had made his heart swell in his chest, and he’d hugged you so tight right after telling you to ‘shut up and stop lying’

And he’d thought about it ever since, couldnt get it out of his head. And now he knew why.

He takes your jaw in his huge hand and brings your face up to look at him,

“if you like my nose so much, why dont you sit on it princess?” he tells you, looking into your eyes and pulling you closer by your waist.

Your eyes widen, and you blush while trying to push him away.

“stop saying things like that,” you look away from his eyes and he frowns.

“look at me baby,”

You reluctantly look at him again, the way he looks at you hungrily makes you ache.

“you telling me you dont want to?” He whispers to you, and you know he would drop it as soon as you say the word.

But you stay silent, looking away from him again. And he knows youre too shy to say it. so innocent. He wants to make you cry and shake on top of him.

He sighs and goes to pull away from you, but before he can get too far you grab him by the collar, nodding your head.

“yeah?” he asks. you nod again.

he smiles widely at you, before licking his lips and speaking,

“take this off,” he says as he plays with the hem of your dress.

His eyes scan over your body while you undress, his mouth watering. And when you finally stand infront of him, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, only wearing your panties, He picks you up by your thighs suddenly, And you yelp in surprise. He takes you to the bed, laying down with you now sitting on his chest.

You stare at eachother for a while before he speaks again,

“come on….wanna drown in your little pussy,”

Hes so nasty.

“dont worry you will, im gonna shut you up for once,” you say with a look of distaste, he knows your body is betraying you, with how big the wet spot on your panties has gotten.

you sit up on your knees, sliding down your underwear slowly, teasing him.

“mmm there she is,” he groans when he sees your pussy, slick with your arousal.

“youre so annoying,”

“sit on my face baby,”

you huff and sit down again on his chest, grinding your naked pussy on him. He groans loudly.

“fuck….you want me to beg? is that it sweetheart? hm?”

He breathes heavily, a desperate look on his face, and his hips buck behind you, trying to relieve himself a little.

You nod and wait for him, and when he opens his mouth to speak, reaching out to touch your waist, you slap his hand away.

“no touching,” you say with a serious face.

he almost cries. “evil…evil little girl,” fuck why wont you just let him have you, but he knows that you know he loves this. loves his pretty girlfriend being mean to him.

you take pity on him, you tell yourself, when you sit up on your knees, moving so that your pussy is hovering over his face. But really you know you cant wait anymore, you need to ride his handsome face.

“fuck yes…please baby, sit,” He groans under you.

you place yourself right on his mouth, his nose grazing your clit. He moans loudly into you, his hand going to rub himself so he doesnt loose his mind.

He rubs his face into you, licking and sucking on your cunt. You mewl and cry over him and he looks up at you, Smirking into your pussy.

You grab his hair then, grinding yourself down on him, riding his nose.

He babbles under you, probably filthy things. But his mouth is full, so all you hear is his muffled voice speaking into your soaked pussy.

He loves when you use him like this, and the way you look on top of him, fucking his face, its too much and not enough at the same time.

“fuck…use me princess,” He manages to get out in between eating you “cum on my face…”

You whine.

“fuck….” You shake and cry over him, cumming all over his drooling mouth. He keeps licking at you, trying to get every drop of cum. He groans, pulling away from you.

He looks so fucked out, his whole face is wet and his hair is messy, a dopey smile on his face.

You almost pass out, falling off him and onto the bed. He smiles and goes to lay on top of you, cradling your face in his hands.

“i need to change my boxers,” he says.

“of course you do,”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IDK IF I LIKE THIS UM. anyways i hope u guys like it atleast >_<

i havent gotten to his intruduction in the manga yet i know nothing about this man except for that hes a lawyer and hes sexy

⌗︙・riding higuruma in his bath ⸜⸜・

i can't stop thinking about higuruma spead out in the bath while his pretty girl straddles him. he grons when your pussy finally touches your cock and you sink doeen on him. he's thick, thicker than you've ever taken before, but he feel so good. one of his hands settles on your hip while he takes your boob in the other.

the whole scene is so perverted, him still in his suit with only his cock out while you bounce on him. he doesn't care tho, all he does is solve boring cases and he needs a slut on his dick in the evening.

"baby, you're even tighter than before." he moans, thrusting to meet your cunt. you squeak as he hits your cervix and you giggle at his comment.

"only for you, hiromi." you say, arching your back to give him a show. although he can't see your ass right now, he loves how your boobs flex. of course there's only him, you would never fuck other men when he's here.

"your little brain would never think about fucking someone else." he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing it a bit to prove his point. you're only stupid for HIS cock.

you're so cock drunk, you're not even able to say something back, the only thing on your mind is his cum inside.

"cum..." you moan, falling on his chest. he laughs at you.

"what is it, baby?" you want to cum or do you want my cum?"

the way you start clawing at his shirt gives him the answer.

"of course, baby," he kisses you sweetly, "I didn't expect anything else then you wanting me to cum deep inside."