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𓏵 9teen | she/her | hiromi's controversially young gf ໒꒱

𓏵 i draw & write | mixed fandoms (mostly jjk)

𓏵 both sfw & nsfw—interact at your own discretion

𓏵 don't be shy, ask box is always open for a quick chat .ᐟ

works (art & fics)

𓏵 jjk

credits

𓏵 borders in my posts are and will be by the ff: anitalenia, suupersonic, ithemes, and ghostgum ‏‏𖦹⋆˚

hiromi gets an important call while at work.

pairing: higuruma x reader

content: dad!hiromi, mom!reader, domestic fluff, your daughter's name is harumi

hiromi stares at his phone buzzing quietly.

he lets out a tired exhale. it's noon, case files and paperwork are piled high on his desk, emails keep flooding his laptop, and now your daughter's calling. hiromi's jaw clenches—he was already focused and had already reached what you, his wife, would call flow state.

should he let it ring, or should he answer? he did tell the girls that phone calls are reserved for emergencies only. after another moment of hesitation, hiromi picks it up.

"yes, harumi?" he answers. "i'm at work. is something wrong?"

"i'm bored," harumi mumbles.

that's it. that's the emergency.

hiromi blinks. "...you're bored," he repeats flatly.

"yes."

"dad's at work."

"i know. daddy, watch me play roblox."

"harumi, dad's at work," hiromi repeats again, firmer this time.

"and i'm bored," she retorts, just as firm.

he exhales deeply through his mouth. with his free hand he rubs the bridge of his nose, keeping his irritation at bay.

"harumi," hiromi mutters, "can you bother mama for now?"

harumi turns her camera on and shakes her head. "she said bother you."

of course you did. hiromi takes a mental note to talk with you later about work hours needing to be separated from personal life.

"i'm in the middle of a murder case, princess," hiromi weakly says.

the little girl hums. "okay, but can the murder wait until you see my fairy princess wolf?"

hiromi purses his lips, sunken eyes flickering to the pink pixelated creature on his daughter's screen.

"...okay," he whispers. "okay. let dad see."

before hiromi knows it, they've been on call for three hours. harumi mutters things about her game, squeals when something exciting happens, giggles at her own jokes, then goes quiet again. sometimes she shows him something on her ipad before flopping back onto her bed.

hiromi's eyes would occasionally flick towards his phone to watch her even as his hands are busy signing papers and scribbling notes. whenever she asks what he's doing, he finds himself explaining parts of the case in simpler terms she'd understand.

it's the most relaxed he's felt all day.

and to think he almost just let the phone ring.

on the third hour, harumi turns her tablet off.

"my screen time is over, daddy," she simply says. "my ipad said so."

hiromi hums. "what're you up to next, baby?"

"maybe end the call."

"no—" hiromi clears his throat and straightens up on his chair. "i mean... can't you talk with dad a little more?"

"but you said you have to murder."

"to handle a murder case, baby," he chuckles. "and... i do, but... dad misses his harumi."

harumi tilts her head. "you miss me?" she asks. "silly daddy. we live in the same house."

"i know," hiromi laughs quietly, exhausted. "i still miss you."

"mm, okay," the little girl nods. she crawls under her blanket, and hiromi's heart almost bursts when he watches his baby settle down for a nap. "can you stay until i sleep, daddy?"

he visibly melts. "of course."

you scroll down through your husband's photo gallery, brow raised. there's an insane amount of screenshots of his call earlier with harumi—some of her roblox fairy character, her in-game pets, her smiling at the camera, and several screenshots of her dozing off.

"work-life boundaries, huh?" you flatly say.

hiromi takes his phone away from you, ears tinted red.

"yes," he murmurs. "you cannot redirect our children to me everytime they inconvenience you."

"you watched her play roblox for three hours."

hiromi goes quiet because... well, he did do that.

"she asked me to stay," he says. "so i did. and i'd do it again."

inspired by this post lol

masterlist | jjk

⋆˚꩜｡ : sfw | ⭑.ᐟ : nsfw

fics ˎˊ˗ art ˎˊ˗

⋆˚꩜｡ papa romi series ⋆˚꩜｡ fluff

⋆˚꩜｡ hubby romi series

⭑.ᐟ hiromi higuruma

such pretty walls for a daughter who never got to see them.

tags: higuruma x reader, husband!higuruma, f!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, based on this ask

cw: miscarriage

it's already been a month but your body still feels foreign after everything—empty, heavy. it just doesn't get any easier when you've spent the last couple before this excited and expecting.

you blink up the ceiling, the mattress pressed on your back doing nothing to comfort you. you've been awake for a few minutes now, startled by the lack of your husband's warmth beside you. he must have gone to his home office to tend to late-night emergencies from the firm.

slowly, you leave bed to get a cup of tea—anything to keep your mind off... everything. as you head to the kitchen, you catch the door to the nursery you two had prepared months prior slightly ajar.

strange.

neither of you went inside ever since you lost her. no one could stomach what was inside and what should've been waiting in it.

you walk towards the door to close it, eyes casting down to the floor just to avoid catching a glimpse of what's inside the room when you hear sniffling inside.

your head snaps up, startled. that's when you see hiromi, sitting on the floor of the nursery bathed in the dim moonlight. his head rests against the unfinished crib, his shoulders slouched, his hands around a tiny sock.

something sharp immediately pulses in your chest.

"hiromi," you hoarsely call out.

your husband flinches ever so slightly before he looks over his shoulder. when he glances back at you, you catch a glimpse of how bloodshot his eyes are.

"...sweetheart," he forces out after a moment, voice tight. "sorry. i just... found this sock in my office and thought i'd put it back where it belongs."

the lie is fragile. you both know he didn't come here just to return a sock. your eyes drift around the nursery despite yourself.

the half-built crib.

the rocking chair by the window.

the stack of parenting books on the dresser.

the unopened box of diapers and formulas one of your relatives had gifted.

the notebook where you and hiromi wrote possible names for your baby girl.

everything remains exactly where you left it a month ago, like time stopped inside this room while the rest of the world cruelly kept moving.

your gaze falls back to your husband. hiromi looks exhausted, like he's been holding his breath for weeks. and maybe he has been.

"you hate lying to me," you whisper.

hiromi lets out a shaky breath that almost sounds like a laugh.

"i know."

his fingers tighten around the tiny sock.

"i just didn't want you to see me like this."

your eyes sting. "like what, hiromi?" you ask. "like this? she was yours, too—"

"she is mine," hiromi corrects, eyes sullen as he stares at the tiny pink fabric in his hand. "nothing changes that."

you pause, before you nod quietly. "she's ours," you murmur. "you're allowed to grieve."

you step into the nursery fully now. the room feels colder than the rest of the house, and it makes your throat tighten all the more.

"hiromi."

he shakes his head weakly.

"i'm supposed to be helping you through this," he whispers. his voice begins to crack apart as he continues, "instead, i can barely walk past this room without feeling like i can't breath."

you kneel in front of him despite your trembling legs. his eyes widen immediately, his free hand shooting out to grab at your arm.

"don't kneel on the floor, your body—"

"hiromi."

he falls silent, and that's when it happens. he slumps back on the floor, head against the crib again as he fails stop his tears this time.

"i already built half the crib," he forces out. "practiced putting the car seat on every day. i had a list of schools already."

your own tears start falling as you lean into him, burying your own face on his shoulder.

hiromi continues, "i kept wondering if she'd have your eyes. i heard her heartbeat and thought... thought she'd be safe and we'd wait just a little more to finally see her."

his shoulders shake as sobs rack his body.

"i already loved being her father."

your hand immediately grips at his shirt at that. you shift forward without thinking and wrap your arms around him.

and hiromi, who's always so controlled, completely collapses into you, face now buried on your stomach instead of the wood of the crib as he sobs.

"i'm sorry," he chokes out. "i can't fucking believe i protect people for a living but i couldn't even save neither of you."

you can't help but bristle at that. "stop it, hiromi," you murmur, arms tightening around him. "none of this was your fault. neither was it mine. stop... stop apologizing, please."

you both sit there, mourning in the nursery that should've held a baby. instead, it holds two grieving parents.

morning light begins spilling through the nursery windows. neither of you move when yellow painted the walls—a stark contrast to the blue you two undeniably felt.

his hand rests over yours. your head rests against his shoulder. after staring at the crib for a long while, hiromi quietly asks, "...do you want me to pack everything away?"

you look around the room at that. at the life you imagined. at the daughter you loved love. then you quietly whisper, "...not yet."

hiromi nods.

"not yet," he echoes.

a/n: oh my goodness, i'm so sorry it took so long! i wrote this in between studying for exams so it's kinda rushed D: hopefully i still delivered what you expected even if it's just a little bit, op! aaaa haha i gyatta go back to studying now

i'm a bit shy about being told that as well 🙈🙈 haha thank you anon!!

f!reader and higuruma are pregnant!!… or at least were. they had a miscarriage which kinda shook everything and made top notch lawyer higuruma cry which he never does, or at least not publicly. f!reader hears him in the room that was supposed to be their baby’s nursery as she’s on her way to the bathroom… her blank mind gets awoken by the sound of hiromi’s light sobs as he sits on the floor surrounded by the hope or memory of a baby that was supposed to be theirs. The joys he hoped to experience now gone. Stuck in her own grief and despair, she helps her husband overcome his pain while subsequently healing herself.

i saw a post that spoke about a lack of reverse comfort reads and i’m salivating for one, if you wouldn’t mind being the author.

you love this kind of angst just as much as i do, i see... challenge accepted!

and yes, there is quite a lack of reverse comfort... i'm so happy you trust me enough to make a good one haha!