evie

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

ﾟ。 hiromzi introduction <3 ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

･｡･

✩ hiii my name is evie! ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

✮ she/her ᯓᡣ𐭩

✮ jjk writer, (n)sfw (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

✩ hiromi's gf ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

✩ i only write when i'm bored, i don't take this very seriously, apologies for the weird upload schedule /ᐠ > ˕ <マ

✩disclaimer! all art and borders used in my work are found on pinterest, pls lmk if you recognise anybody's work and i'll credit (,,> ᴗ <,,)

ᓚᘏᗢ ᶻ z Z

╰┈➤ @hiromzi has logged off

18+ he needs you sooo bad...

hiromi higuruma smut, kind of somno? reader's half asleep :p

the faint glowing of red digits displayed on the clock, 3:14am, the only sound in your apartment was the low and steady hum of the refrigerator. one of your arms is tucked under your pillow, sound asleep, all snug and immersed in a dreamless void.

but hiromi higuruma? he was wide awake.

watching you, lying on his side, resting his weight on his elbow. watching the soft part of your lips, the way the curve of your shoulder was highlighted by the weak moonlight streaming through the window that cut over your bed. his gaze was not the typical calm, collected expression he showed in the courtroom. it was a lot darker; only during these moments with you did he allow himself to feel a simmering, possessive intensity.

your poor hiromi had been under pressure for hours; casefiles and logical arguments couldn’t release that tight coil of need he felt building. the last delectable provocation was seeing you so deep in slumber, so vulnerable. he always wore his renowned discipline and self-control with pride, like a cape. though, he could put that all aside when you were here with him like this.

“baby, wake up… please?”

which rips a low groan out of you as he’s stroking your shoulder so innocently.

“my love…” he’s moving closer, silently and deliberately.

“mm- ‘romi?” so sleepy…

“there she is…” murmuring softly.

“missed you s’much today…”

his body exuded heat against your back, erection already pressing against the soft cotton of his pyjama bottoms. he’s excruciatingly hard. your lover’s eyes follow the contour of your spine as he lets out a controlled, slow exhale through his nose.

“hngh— hiromi…”

he pushes his hips forward so that the swell of your ass was in line with his thick length, still bound by fabric. he’s letting out a quiet, satisfied hum. the contact feels electric even through the hefty layers of clothing—your flimsy sleep shorts and his own bottoms.

he started to move, rolling his hips slowly and sensually as he rubbed his throbbing cock against you. oh, was it a good feeling— his normally regular breathing becoming so heavy, feeling that hot gust of breath on the back of your neck alongside the soft give of your flesh and the warmth seeping between your bodies.

“ha— ‘m sorry sweetheart, can’t help it…”

“ngh- s’okay…”

“look so pretty like this, how am i supposed to ignore my perfect girl?”

his palm comes up to rest on your other shoulder, one of his arms sliding beneath your pillow to keep you in place. his fingers skimming across your hips before they dip underneath the waistband of your shorts.

he found your cunt dripping, so warm and soft. and he’s letting out a quiet, piercing gasp.

“fuck— you already this wet for me?”

hiromi higuruma was a man who dealt with evidence and facts. and honestly, the most incriminating, most enticing testimony he’d ever been met with was the sight of your body right now. you were still so tired, but awake enough to push yourself against his straining cock.

and in quiet, soft praises,

“that’s it- always so sweet f’me…”

your clit was already slightly swollen when his fingers parted your slick-covered folds, moving his fingers with a clinical precision that was utterly obscene, circling it once, then twice.

your husband had just managed to free his cock, pushing his pyjama bottoms down, his tip already beading with pre-cum as it slapped against his stomach, thick and flushed a beautiful hue of pink.

with his gaze fixed on yours, he slicked himself aggressively, spitting into his palm, and in the quietness of your bedroom, the sound was vulgar, so filthy…

“look at my baby… letting me use you like this,” whispering almost disbelievingly.

once more, he lines himself up with nothing in the way now, your sopping hole giving way with startlingly tight ease as the hot, blunt head of his cock pressed against it. he’s pushing it, sinking inch by slow, violating inch into your slick, velvety heat with a stifled, shuddering groan.

your walls were a tight, smooth, inviting sheath that only constricted around him, just an automatic reflex as you’re being filled so well by your husband.

his pelvis flush against yours as he drove himself to the hilt, staying there, savouring the way your sweet cunt squeezed around him, how deep he felt inside you. he’s basically shaking, jaw clenched as he lowers his forehead between your shoulder.

“fuck—” he utters in a barely audible whisper.

“you don’t know what you do t’me, do you? walking around looking so pretty all day, s’not fair.”

he’s starting to move properly inside you now, with slow, deep, and unrelenting thrusts. every time he even slightly pulls out, it felt like delightful suffering, but when he plunged right back into your cunt, it felt like victory.

the bed creaks in a rhythmic, gentle protest as he’s fucking you slowly, sensing the moment a slight moan gets caught in your throat, pussy desperately clenching around his thick cock. oh, you were so beautiful.

his thrusts lose their steady cadence, growing faster, harder, even more desperate, hand on your shoulder tightening.

“shit— that’s it princess. there you go.. ha… such a good girl, squeezing me like that.”

he hisses against your skin, voice thick with this hunger that verges on rage, other hand moving around your hip, long, slender fingers finding your clit once more, rubbing it in harsh, frenzied circles until you’re moaning endlessly.

“ngh! ’romi-”

“ngh– you feel me? oh shit- so beautiful.”

the combined assault of his deep, hammering penetration and the small, relentless rubbing on your sensitive lil’ bud pulled you rapidly towards climax, letting out a small, strained whimper. sleep-fuzzy orgasm ripping right through you, back arching against his chest as your inner walls convulse in slick, rhythmic pulses around his dick.

“that’s m’girl…”

he’d finally give in when he felt the sensation of your pussy milking him, unloading himself deep inside your womb, hot and abundant, a final harsh thrust slamming into you with vicious force. his whole body’s trembling with the intensity of you milking him dry, still hammering into you through the aftershocks.

the sound of ragged breathing was the only sound filling the bedroom for a long time before his cock softened inside you.

with a wet, filthy sound, he pulls out of you, a soft whine escaping his lips, leaving the sheets beneath him stained with the surge of his spending. one arm’s thrown over his eyes, chest still heaving before falling onto his back beside you.

hiromi’s dark eyes scanned your fucked-out expression as he turns his head on the pillow to really look at you. his lips curl into a leisurely, content smile filled with warmth.

i guess his possessiveness turned into a soft, mocking cage as he rolled over, pulling you flush against him, caressing your jaw with a gentle softness.

“mm, go back to sleep, baby."

a/n: 😳😳😳

to be honest this might be my last fic until next weekend, but i've had a lot of motivation the past two days, so i hope this ties you guys over ><

omg stop

shopping with higuruma (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

suggestive, fluff mainly

hiromi higuruma had long been done with this whole ordeal by the time you'd reached the third floor of the mall.

he's not exactly irritated, just tired as usual, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, trailing behind you by half a stride, carrying endless amounts of shopping bags for you.

"you're walking too fast." he mutters

"don't be dramatic hiromi."

"i've spent the last two hours following you around this place"

"yeah yeah— you love me for it though."

peering at you through his glasses "'s not the point though, is it?"

you smiled, gently brushing your shoulder past his as you walked across the mall. the place was pretty crowded, people constantly passing by, overhead speakers softly playing some irritating pop song throughout the corridors.

to be honest- it was really nice, for you atleast.

higuruma feigned disinterest whilst still giving his opinion on an outfit you'd liked, and the both of you had spent majority of the time walking aimlessly as you point towards various things you wanted.

about twenty minutes ago, you'd forced him to smell candles with ridiculously absurd names in a small shop with you, and he'd complained the whole time. but, when you weren't looking, he'd make his way to the checkout, already buying the one you loved the most.

still following behind you, he was sipping on an iced coffee now, the same tired, mildly fond and unreadable expression plastered on his face. though you were pretty confident in saying that you were now a master in deciphering your husband.

so that's why you noticed when his eyes narrowed at the store ahead...

"y/n- don't think about it, please."

"huh? don't think about what?" blinking at naïvely.

"don't act stupid with me, baby, yes you do."

so as you turned to face the lingerie shop across the floor, your smirk only grew wider. for a moment, higuruma just closed his eyes, exhaling a sharp breath.

"absolutely not—"

"oh my gosh, relax."

"yeah, i was relaxed maybe ten seconds ago."

and before he could escape, you're giggling and pulling him towards the store.

"c'mon. i won't be long, pleeease?"

"why do i have to come with you, huh?"

"um- so you can help me pick?"

"you really don't need my help, how about i go wait for you in the café—"

"why would you not help me?"

you've just walked through the stores doors and he's already letting out a huff. he refuses to move, just standing in the doorway, not wanting to step any further inside.

you're turning to face him, again.

"why're you just standing there 'romi?"

"i think this is far enough, sweetheart."

"you look scared-"

"i'm not."

"and like you want to leave."

"well— that's not entirely false..."

your lips curved in amusement at that alone.

shelves decorated with silk and lace in every hue possibly imaginable, soft and cosy lighting spilling across the room,as higuruma just stood next to a display stand, looking horrifically out of place with his long, leather coat and tired expression.

a sales associate walks by, throwing him a courteous smile, which only makes the situation worse.

"oh- this is bad."

"i think you're enjoying this too much."

"aww- you just look cute when you're all flustered."

"i'm not flustered."

"i don't think you've actually looked at me since we stepped in, 'romi."

"'s called self-preservation."

after a moment, as if he's already conceded defeat. he's continuing to trail behind you as your gravitate towards another dangerous line of lace and silk.

then, you pick up a dark red lace set, rubbing the soft silk inbetween your fingers before pressing it against your body.

"how about this one? d'ya like it?"

he glanced over almost immediately, and just froze.

not dramatically.

ah- no... very dramatically.

his jaw tightens, a faint blush creeping up his neck as his eyes briefly glanced over you before turning away at once.

"soo..?" suppressing a grin.

"... you seriously want to ask me that here?"

"well- yeah?"

he took a long sip of his coffee before giving you a blank stare.

"you're mean, baby."

"oh 'romi- you know love me."

"yeah- i do..."

still holding the hanger up, you beam at him, moving in closer.

"c'mon, help me pick, pretty please?"

he wiped his forehead wearily, attempting to gather his thoughts after the situation before looking back at you, reallly looking at you this time."

yeah he's blushing again.

"look baby— you look gorgeous in anything..." muttering under his breath, his voice somewhat strained "do we have to do this in the middle of the store?"

quite frankly, it was embarsssing how that made your stomach flip.

"excuse me?"

"baby, please... what do you mean 'excuse me'?"

he looked annoyed for even saying that aloud.

"you know what i said, don't act like this y/n."

"no, no- hold on. you can't just say that so casually." gazing at him.

"i didn't want to say it casually."

"that makes it all the lot worse, hiromi."

smiling foolishly, you just stand there,

watching as his ears turn a deep shade of crimson

“you're blushing again-"

"you keep putting me in these situations i-"

"you really think i'm gorgeous? so cute." pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

he's so flustered.

"i- no- that wasn't intentional."

"mhmm..."

he looked aside, adjusting his glasses, letting out a deep sigh through his nose.

"you're impossible."

"and you're flustered."

"'m trying really hard not to be right now, you aren't exactly helping me, y'know."

to be honest, it was unfairly adorable seeing him like this. he was always a very calm and composed man. however, seeing these occasional moments— small fissures in that composed look whenever you caught him off guard like this.

this time, you held up a lacy black pair of lingerie against yourself.

"okay... what about this then, hm?"

and he'd made the foolish decision of looking at you, again. his entire line of thought just stopping abruptly. staring down at his cup of coffee like it had personally defeated him, he takes a deep breath

"ha— you're really testing my patience now, sweetheart."

"oh, am i?" feigning innocence.

"you know exactly what you look like right now."

giving an innocent smile. "so, tell me."

silence, which to be honest answered the question for him.

after a second, he inches closer, slightly lowering his voice.

"the black one." he mutters. "i really like the black one."

your heart literally fluttered.

"yeah?"

"mhm, love it."

but for some reason, his little hesitant, clearly embarassed smile that followed was even more adorable than the compliment itself.

accidentally stumbling across your innocent boyfriend's search history?

18+, sub!choso, dacryphilia, established relationship

with a mug of tea in each of his hands, your sweet boyfriend, choso, walked back into the living room where you’d been studying together, only to be met by his search history illuminating across the screen. you’d seen it all.

“how to convince girlfriend to overstimulate you”

“how to ask your girlfriend to hold you down”

“is it normal to want my girlfriend to dominate me?”

“am i a masochist quiz”

he saw you looking — mugs crashing down onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter. and his face, usually so composed, went horrifyingly pale, only to then flush with a violent wave of embarrassment.

“choso,” you spoke softly.

and that gentleness only shattered him further, a muffled sob slipping past his lips before he could swallow it back. he turned aside immediately, shoulders curling inward, clearly mortified, though you still noticed the first tears gathering along his lashes.

“don’t—” he choked out, voice thick.

“please don’t— hngh, stare at me like that… ‘m so embarrassed, i’m so— hick — pathetic.”

you approached him slowly, kneeling beside him as he slid down the wall. you carefully pried his hands away from his face, only to find his eyes red and glassy, completely vulnerable beneath your gaze.

“‘s okay, baby… don’t be embarrassed, you’re not pathetic,” you whispered.

“you’re just… you, that's alright."

he was falling apart in your arms now, forehead pressed into your shoulder.

“i need you…” he sobbed, words damp and muffled into your shirt.

“i-i… shit… need you so much, it scares me— please, baby, please.”

“shhh, it’s alright, choso, you can show me.”

you murmured, fingers threading carefully through his hair. “you wanna show me now?”

you guided him to the bedroom, and he followed without resistance, trembling and pliant beneath your touch. he positioned himself at the edge of the bed, letting himself be slowly undressed by you, every so often leaning into the soft brush of your thumbs wiping away his tears.

once he’d stripped entirely, you eased him back against the mattress. he was already painfully hard, thick cock resting heated against his stomach, flushed tip glistening prettily with pre. a shaky, broken sound escaped him the second he noticed your eyes lingering over him.

you slipped your own clothes off slowly, watching his tear-blurred gaze follow every movement. and when you climbed over him, he released a trembling breath. you wrapped your hand around his pulsing cock, guiding it towards your entrance. you were already soaked, cunt slick and eager, walls fluttering around nothing as they anticipated the stretch of him.

the first touch of his tip pressing into your yielding heat tore a cry from his throat. you lowered yourself slowly, inch by inch, taking him completely until your breath hitched around the fullness. his eyes rolled back instantly, another wave of tears dampening his lashes as your gummy warmth swallowed him whole, clinging desperately to every inch of his shaft.

“ngh— oh fuck— baby!” he sobbed, hands jerking towards your hips, though the attempt to steady you was useless with how violently they trembled.

“ha! feel so good… mmph! feel too good…”

you began rocking against him slowly, rolling your hips in deep measured strokes. every time you lifted yourself, his slick cock caught the dim light beautifully, and every time you sank back down, your cunt tightened around him in a slow crushing pulse that made him whimper.

it was overwhelming for him already — head thrown back against the pillow, tears slipping into his hairline while broken sounds kept spilling from his lips.

“please…” he whimpered weakly, the word quickly dissolving into a mantra.

“please, hngh! please, please…”

“use your words, baby. please what?” you murmured softly.

leaning forward, you braced yourself beside his head, the plush weight of your chest pressing into him. the new angle forced him deeper inside you, and the sudden sensation ripped another gasp from his lungs.

“ah! ngh— i don’t know… ‘m sorry…” he cried, body arching helplessly towards you, hips twitching upward in desperate little thrusts.

“f-fuck… just so pretty— mm! so tight— can’t, hah, focus…”

you felt it too — the way your body drew him in greedily, the rhythmic flutter of your walls around his cock almost refusing to let him go. you kept your pace steady and relentless, every downward grind completely enveloping him and drawing another ruined sound from his throat.

“‘m not gonna— i can’t— fuck!” he gasped, fingers digging weakly into your thighs.

“‘m gonna cum, baby— please.”

“aww— sweetheart, not right now, m’kay?”

you whispered, slowing to a torturous grind that made his hips buck beneath you.

your cunt squeezed him relentlessly — slow intimate pulses that bordered on cruel with how sensitive he’d become. the swollen head of his cock brushed that deepest spot inside you every single time you moved, and you could see the ache of it written all over his expression

“hurts— ah! hurts s’much…” he pleaded, hips stuttering uselessly.

“feels s’good it hurts— shit! let me cum— please. i need to cum inside you, i’ll be really good, i swear, just ah— please—”

the desperation in his voice, his complete submission to you, sent heat rushing straight through your body. you started moving faster again, chasing your own pleasure now, breaths growing shallow as tension tightened low in your stomach.

the room filled with filthy sounds — wet dragging thrusts, the soft slap of skin, his choked moans and constant pleading. every movement pushed him deeper into your heat until he looked completely ruined beneath you.

“‘jus be a good boy, take it f’me, baby…” you whined, watching him unravel completely.

“my beautiful boy, need to cum s’bad, huh?”

that finally broke him.

his pleads dissolved into high, breathless whimpers, body tightening like a drawn bowstring as he desperately thrust up into you. you felt his cock throb harder inside your clenching walls, the first frantic pulses making him choke on a sob as orgasm crashed over him.

“ah— filling me up so well, cho— feel so good…”

“ngh! baby— mmph! ‘m gonna cum, ‘m cumming— please—”

his climax poured into you alongside a wrecked moan, dragged from him by the relentless grip of your cunt milking every pulse from his overstimulated cock. his entire body shook violently, back arching off the mattress while helpless whines spilled from him nonstop.

“shit— choso— mm!”

“please cum on my cock, baby— please, need it so bad.”

you followed soon after, climax crashing through you in hot waves as your walls spasmed tightly around him, dragging out every last shudder from his body.

afterwards, he collapsed bonelessly beneath you, still trembling, still sniffling softly. you eased yourself off him carefully, both of you panting hard. immediately, he curled into you again, damp face burying itself into the crook of your neck while his breathing struggled to steady.

“never—” he whispered hoarsely.

“i’ve never felt that— never let anyone see me like that—”

“shh, s’alright, my sweet boy.”

you soothed, fingers combing through his hair while the sticky warmth of his release still dripped slowly between your thighs.

“so perfect, cho. all mine.”

“hngh— don’t say that…”

but he was all yours, completely.

a/n: first choso fic ;P i suck at writing smut >_o

lawstudentbf!higuruma

he's trying so desperately to study for his upcoming mock trial that he ends up neglecting you ;( ( fluff, suggestive towards end ><) 2.3k

for the past three days, your law student boyfriend hiromi higuruma has not dared to drift his gaze from his textbooks for more than forty-five seconds.

you only know this because you’ve timed him — twice.

firstly, it was out of worry, but the second time was just out of spite.

attending law school has turned your boyfriend into an inhuman being, a sleepless beast assembled from caffeine, highlighters, and constitutional law.

the little apartment you had bought together no longer had the appearance of a home.

it seemed more like the site of an academic exorcism.

every accessible surface in your home is buried beneath casebooks.

sticky notes sprout from pages of his textbooks, the kitchen counter is simply decorated with empty coffee cups, multiplying at the horrifying rate of bacteria in a petri dish.

and in the middle of it all, higuruma sits by himself, gradually being consumed by his coursework.

he used to blink more often, you swear.

it all starts tuesday night.

exhausted, he returns home from campus, his messenger bag leaning on one shoulder, loose papers threatening to spill out from the zipper.

“hey,” he speaks wearily as he enters.

he barely gives you a kiss before heading over to the dining table, taking out books thick enough to be classified as lethal weapons.

“you studying again?” you ask.

“mock trial on friday, yeah."

“you’ve already spent six hours studying today, ‘romi…”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you pushing yourself too hard?”

“no, it’s fine.”

after the brief interaction, he spends the remainder of the night in academic hell.

you try to be encouraging at first, you truly do.

he highlights sections of text with the terrifying focus of a man defusing explosives as you bring over food. he murmurs legal jargon under his breath like incantations as you move to sit next to him.

occasionally, he would lightly squeeze your thigh whilst reading.

sometimes, he would draw you in for a precise twenty-five seconds before becoming sidetracked by some footnote.

the amount of attention you begin to derive from crumbs is just pitiful.

so, by wednesday, you’re beginning to despise the entirety of the legal system.

around midnight marks your first real attempt to win back your boyfriend.

sitting at the dining table, surrounded by enough paperwork to be considered environmental clutter, higuruma is annotating something with frightening intensity, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

with the sole exception of the rain gently pounding against the windows and the sporadic sound of his pen scratching at paper, your apartment is sullen.

you leave your shared bedroom wearing one of his shirts and shorts so little they are essentially ornamental.

with every movement, the hem of the shirt brushes the tops of your thighs, the crisp cufflinks engulfing your hands. it hangs on you in an obscenely large manner.

which, normally, got a reaction out of him.

usually, there would be a pause before he takes a look at you.

usually, completely dropping whatever task was at hand and bringing you into his lap, letting out a deep, weary sigh, as if you were the only enjoyable thing he’d encountered that day.

but tonight?

nothing.

not even a proper look, just a brief glance.

in fact, you freeze completely, just staring at him blankly.

"really?"

before a distracted “hm?”

“didn’t even look at me…”

“i am…”

his gaze shifts upwards before finding its way back to his textbook almost immediately.

the audacity?

“baby… you barely even looked at me.”

“sorry, sweetheart… yeah— you look good.”

good?!

you just look at him with genuine disbelief.

hiromi higuruma used to praise you as if you invented happiness, but now he compliments you with the emotional intensity of a supermarket receipt…

you approach the table gently.

“‘romi—”

“mm?”

you push his chair back just a little by wedging yourself between his knees.

at last, it receives more of his focus, leaning back just enough to properly gaze up at you, his hand intuitively resting on your waist.

“what’s up?” he murmurs.

“trying to remember what my boyfriend looks like.”

he lets out a lethargic sigh of laughter.

“’m sorry.”

“no, you’re not.”

“i am, baby. promise.”

“put down the book then—please?”

“i can’t, love…”

your eyes narrow.

“you’re lucky i love you.”

“i know.”

then through your shirt, he plants a distracted kiss to your stomach, not even taking his eyes away from the casebook.

it’s lazy, but devastatingly affectionate.

you almost forgive him immediately out of sheer weakness.

instead, as he continues to read, you glare at the top of his head.

“y’know, i could probably flash you right now and you’d ask me to cite my sources…” you murmur.

it causes him to chuckle quietly.

low, fleeting, and enervated.

and oh, do you miss that sound...

wednesday’s even worse.

because he’s been studying for so long, the air in your apartment is thick and stale, like the air in an overheated library.

you find him reading case reports with the disturbed look of a man seeing eldritch horrors on the couch, surrounded by colour-coded notes, his left leg bouncing restlessly.

which, to be fair, could just be tort law.

with a sigh heavy enough to be categorised as performance art, you fall theatrically over the couch next to him.

no response.

and even with a louder sigh, nothing.

you gently turn to look at him.

“hiromi—”

“mmhm?”

“would you even notice if i just died right now?”

“’course i would,” though very monotone.

you raise an eyebrow. “that sounded fake.”

“sorry…” distracted pause. “well, you’d make noise, wouldn’t you?” still furiously clicking the keys on his laptop.

you huff, looking more intently.

in all honesty, it’s simply unjust how attractive he looks right now — something about his exhaustion that makes his features a lot softer. his sleeves are pushed clumsily to his elbows, his coarse black hair a little dishevelled from the stress of it all, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reads.

you’re simultaneously madly in love and irritated with him.

a deeply unfair experience, by the way.

you cautiously reach over and take his glasses off his face.

well, that works.

his eyes instantly flicker towards you. “what are you doing?”

“um, sabotage?”

“can still see, sweetheart…”

“not well you can.”

“give ‘em back, sweetheart.”

“gonna have to make me…”

at that, his countenance shifts, inconspicuous and small enough to go unnoticed by most, though not by you.

his eyes linger on your face for an excessively long while before he lets a quiet exhale through his nose.

“you’re distracting me, sweets — please?”

after taking his glasses captive, you sit up a little.

“you’ve been ignoring me for days, ‘romi.”

“i haven’t been ignoring you, darling — now, can i plea—”

“really? what colour shirt was i wearing yesterday?”

you point accusingly to disrupt the silence. “exactly—”

“ah— it was…” he holds his head in his hands, thinking, before looking back up at you. “grey?”

you gaze at him. “it was white. tch—”

“’s close enough.”

a gasp of betrayal escapes your lips.

and at that moment, he genuinely smirks. it’s brief and clearly worn-out, but it’s still genuine enough to make you feel all warm inside.

this time, he leans in, speaking more softly. “i’m sorry, i just really need to focus, honey. we’ve spoken about this.”

additionally, higuruma’s apologies are always so sincere they just feel painful.

and despite your best efforts, your displeasure is quick to wane.

you fuss against his ear. “you owe me attention.”

“yeah — i know.”

“a criminal amount.”

a soft huff of laughter. “seems legally inaccurate.”

you lift your hand to lightly slap his cheek, to which he catches your wrist mid-air. what an infuriating man…

his focus abruptly shifts away from you once again when his phone buzzes with a notification from one of his classmates.

you collapse backward against the soft comfort of the couch cushions dramatically.

higuruma reaches out blindly to touch your ankle as he responds to the message, giving it a light squeeze as an apology.

which works surprisingly well.

you think you’re going crazy by the time thursday night rolls around.

his law mock trial is scheduled for tomorrow morning, indicating that your lover has clearly developed an almost supernatural level of intense intellectual concentration.

his side of the bed is empty when you wake up at one o’clock in the morning, again.

oh, was it finally friday morning?

well, as you follow the dim light towards the living room, you find that he’s sat cross-legged on the floor, open textbooks standing tall around him like a scholar in a renaissance painting:

other than being noticeably even more sleep-deprived, his tie had been forgotten somewhere across the room, hair a mess, his brows had long formed a stress crease deep enough to split his expression in two. the image only makes your chest ache a bit.

“hiromi?”

this time, he looks up right away, concerned more than anything.

“sorry, baby. did i wake you up?”

“no, ‘m fine.”

you stay still for a moment, checking the clock, it's sleek hands rotating with a soft click.

1:15am...

“i know you have your mock trial thing at nine, but can you please come to bed?"

“i need another hour, baby, ‘m sorry.”

you laugh once, though not because anything is funny, but more so because you’ve heard this exact phrase an uncountable number of times this week.

“you said that when i went to bed three hours ago.”

“i know…”

“and the day before.”

“baby — i know, i know.”

you watch him for another moment, and you can visibly notice how miserable he is.

worn out — to the bone.

well, sometimes loving higuruma is like witnessing somebody gradually immerse themselves in responsibilities whilst maintaining their composure, constantly insisting that they’re “fine.”

you approach him cautiously.

“my love...?”

“yeah?”

then you drop straight into his lap without uttering a word.

and absolutely everything comes to a halt, pen stopping in the middle of a note.

his arms instinctively grab a hold of you, one firmly around your waist, the other resting on your thigh.

and finally—

finally, he’s looking at you properly.

“hi, sweetheart… you okay?”

“mm— hi…”

with your arms wrapped around his neck, you sink securely against his chest, the room falling silent.

exhaustion clings to him up close, faint shadows underneath his eyes. like twisted wire, stress ran through his shoulders.

your beautiful, overburdened boy.

from under your hoodie, his hands gently brush across your back, warm and grounding, as if touching you serves as a reminder that he exists outside the weight of his coursework.

after a minute, he looks down at you lovingly. “have i really been that bad?”

you simply gaze at him.

his expression instantly changes to one of comprehension instead.

“alright— silly question,” he whispers against your hair.

“three days, ‘romi.”

“shh, s’okay, i know…”

“i wore your clothes.”

“i noticed."

“basically threw myself at you twenty-four seven…”

his mouth faintly twitches.

“noticed that as well.”

“so why didn’t you care…?”

his gaze quickly dips near your lips before rising back up to your eyes once more.

somehow, his voice sounds lower when he talks.

“because if i let myself be distracted by you, i wouldn’t be able to study. you wouldn’t want me to fail my mock trial in a couple hours, would you sweetheart?”

seriously?

your irritation fractures right away.

“no… still really annoying though.”

“it’s true though, hm?”

with a weary exhalation, his forehead softly meets yours.

you really missed him.

he apologises again, this time with a sincere gentleness, raw and genuine in a manner exclusive to his own.

“i didn’t realise how absent i’d been, my love.”

you melt a bit, against your will obviously.

you mutter, “my boyfriend abandoned me for the legal system…”

a small rumble of laughter. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i'm in mourning…”

now that he’s finally stopped studying, finally being able to breathe, the tightness in his shoulders releases underneath the feather-light touch of your palms.

“you’re so warm,” inhaling your scent.

you giggle slightly. “yeah, that’s how people work, ‘romi—”

another quiet chuckle.

and that sound again — the sound that always feels unjustly personal.

you slowly come to the realisation that he’s now finally paying close attention to you, attention no longer divided between heaps of textbooks and study material alike, but all yours.

it’s as if he’s only now just realising how much he yearns to hold you, fingers flexing at your waist.

he smiles softly against the curve of your ear. “you really spent your days trying to get my attention?”

“don’t be stupid — obviously…”

“could’ve just told me.”

“i performed psychological warfare just to tell you, hiromi!”

at that moment, a genuine grin appears.

beautiful enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

continuous apologies. “i’m really sorry, honey.”

“yeah, you ought to be.”

“don’t be sassy with me, baby.”

you tut before carefully running your fingers through the hair near the nape of his neck, slowly.

“you done studying now?”

his gaze momentarily drifts back to the pile of textbooks encircling the both of you, then back to you.

his inner conflict lasts for five seconds before letting out a long exhale, shutting the casebook that lay next to him.

the soft thump of the book closing reverberates through your apartment like heavenly intervention.

your eyebrows lift. “wow, hiromi, you’ve changed.”

“don’t make fun of me—”

“just surprised.”

his hand slides beneath your thighs, standing up from the floor and raising you properly against him before you can even think—

“’romi, wait!”

he carries you back to your shared bedroom, lightly kicking the door open with the point of his toe.

“i think my angel has been extremely patient with me, don’t you think?”

“mhm.”

“i think i really owe her attention.”

your arms instinctively tighten around his neck.

“what kind of attention?”

in the faint light of your apartment, he meets your eyes before smiling.

“well, the one that doesn’t involve constitutional law, but i do just want to love you. that okay, honey?”

you don’t even have the chance to respond before he’s laying you down on the bed.

it was about time.

a/n: is this basically the same thing i uploaded yesterday...? uh... no! whaaat?

you and your sleepy husband hiromi

hiromi higuruma arrives at home exhausted, like the weight of his day itself had seeped into his bones.

you notice it in the way his shoulders slumped slightly, his loosened tie hanging unevenly over his neck, the way he lingers in the doorway for a second too long, like he’s trying to muster the strength to even properly enter.

“hey…” you murmur from the couch.

his gaze finds you immediately, like he’d been searching for you all day, and the look on his face is painful, something that nearly caves him in with relief, as if he’d finally been able to breathe after suppressing it all day.

“hi, gorgeous…” he whispers back, his voice lower and a lot more worn out than usual, like he hadn’t used it gently all day.

before he can say anything more, you’re on your feet, toes lightly padding across the floor as you approach him. higuruma lets out a quiet breath through his nose the moment your hands settle against his chest.

“did you have a long day, ’romi?” you ask.

he lets out a low laugh.

“ah — you could say that”

he looks even more exhausted up close, darkening bags underneath his tired, brown eyes, the kind that made him look older in the apartment light. beneath the weight of his leather coat, his crisp button-up shirt was now wrinkled, creased heavily around the elbows and waist, as if he hadn’t had the chance to sit down in hours. and, having rubbed his hands all throughout his hair today, it was messy to say the least.

something in his expression loosens as you reach up to adjust his tie.

well — there it is,

that look on his face whenever you lightly touch him, like he’s still getting used to being looked after like this, especially by the gorgeous woman he has the honour of calling his wife.

the corner of his mouth lifts into a gentle smile, the tension between his brows beginning to unknot as he watched your focused expression, softening the severity usually carved into his face as a highly respectable lawyer.

yet, despite the length of time you’ve been together, his hands slowly, and very cautiously, settle against your waist.

you brush the collar of his shirt down.

“have you even given yourself a break today?” you enquire, though evidently worried.

he gives a simple shake of his head.

“i didn’t really give it much thought — sorry, love.”

“ ’romi…”

you let out a quiet sigh before reaching for his hand.

“c’mon”

he doesn’t object when you tug him towards the couch, which honestly speaks more about how worn out he is more than anything else. most the time, he’d just insist he was fine, before finally giving in and letting you take care of him.

however, the moment he sits down next to you, he just sinks down into the couch and lets out a weary breath, before drawing you into him right away, as if it were instinct.

one of his arms encircles your waist, the other falling across the back of the cushions, fingers idly grazing your shoulder before brushing against your hair.

“missed you…”

you almost miss the quiet confession because it’s just so faint.

yeah — almost.

your heart aches a little, he's just so.. cute?

“you saw me this morning…”

“doesn’t matter.”

you smile quietly against his shoulder.

hiromi isn’t the clingy type, his love is quieter; a lot more restrained, which only makes his affection feel heavier.

each touch holds intention; he thinks carefully before asking for more, every kiss holding significance.

almost as if he considers his options before divulging bits of himself.

he clearly melts beneath your touch for a brief moment before catching himself as your fingers gently glide through his thick locks of hair.

“you want me to fall asleep, baby?"

“yeah, that was the goal."

another quiet chuckle - that sound you loved the most.

it was so comforting, rare enough to feel precious to you

the apartment settles into a quiet stillness around the both of you, with dim golden light streaming across cushions as the rain outside gently knocks against the glass.

neither of you speak for a while, and higuruma just holds you tight, his warm breath evening out against your neck. his thumb draws gentle, absentminded circles on your stomach beneath the cotton of your shirt, more for his own comfort than yours.

eventually, you tilt your head up a little to look at him.

“you sure you okay?”

his gaze instantly connects with yours, and his eyes when he stares at you like this — dark, clearly exhausted but incredibly gentle around the edges.

“mhm, i am now.”

the words hit a lot harder than they should.

“so cheesy, ’romi—”

“hey– just with you.”

you snort quietly.

“don’t make it worse for yourself”

his lips curve into a gentle smile as he speaks.

“mmm, looks like it still worked princess.”

and to your annoyance… yeah it did.

so, before he gets all arrogant about it, you lean up just enough to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

higuruma kisses like he’s been starved of it, a bit sluggish at first, evidently from his exhaustion, but still so careful.

his lips warm up against yours, which only makes your entire body relax instinctively as his hand slides up to hold the back of your head, fingers moving through your hair, his thumb from the other hand lightly stroking your jaw.

then, as if all the stress he’d ever felt had suddenly left him, he calmly exhales before intensifying the kiss.

there’s a tired sort of desperation behind the kiss, his lips moving against yours with sudden hunger, the kind that feels long overdue.

your fingers instinctively curl against the front of his shirt and he only pulls you closer, one hand now firmly pressed against your waist as the other continues to caress your cheek, enough to make your heart flutter within your chest.

higuruma always gives kisses like he was holding something delicate, even now when he’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.

the space around you becomes close and warm as the rain intensifies outside, filling the void in between your gentle kisses.

his forehead naturally presses against yours when you take a small step back to breathe, eyes focused on yours, smiling as he pants heavily.

“yeah, i missed this too.”

“was your morning kiss not good enough?” you chuckle quietly.

“mmm—” he pretends to think.

“not enough”

he speaks in that low, rough and utterly genuine tone that makes heat bloom straight through you.

before you can give it too much thought, he draws you in for another kiss.

yet this time, higuruma makes a barely audible moan against the plush of your lips as he gives you a deeper kiss, fingers tightening at your waist, anchoring himself.

after only a couple of minutes, the rain outside is being gently rolled by thunder.

higuruma pulls you closer to him, expecting the rest of the world to wait until morning. the apartment is quiet except for that faint patter of rain against the panes of the window.

you’re now almost lying atop your lover, who’s laid out against the couch, your head resting on his chest, listening to the slow drag of his breathing, one of his arms wrapped securely around your hip from beneath the blanket. and everything just feels warm, so warm.

his fingers travel idly up and down your back absentmindedly, his crisp dress shirt now slightly more unbuttoned than earlier. the smooth fabric of his shirt is bunched underneath your cheek, and the both of you are half-asleep.

every couple of seconds, your eyes flutter shut, before reopening whenever hiromi moves even the slightest beneath you.

he lets out a low hum as his hand continues to move gently up your spine.

“you sleepy, princess?”

his low, gruff voice whispers against your ear, softer in a way that makes warmth curl through your chest.

you raise your head ever so slightly in a futile attempt to shake your head at him.

“no…”

the corner of his mouth lifts slightly.

“mhm… you lying?”

“’m awake…” you murmur.

he brushes his thumb over your closed eyes, admiring the soft curl of your eyelashes, the way your lips part softly whenever you’re tired.

“eyes are shut, baby…”

a quiet laugh rumbles in his chest beneath your cheek, his fingers slipping into your hair as his fingertips lightly graze against your scalp, your entire body instantly melting into him.

you let out a weak groan, in response he only smiles against your hair.

one of his hands draws the blanket up around the both of you, the other settling warmly on the back of your neck.

shielding, always so unconsciously protective over you.

your breathing gradually evens out against him, your husband continuing to trace slow circles on your skin.

he glances down at you once more, taking in your sleeping form, curled up against his chest, messy hair spread across him.

“baby..?” to which he gets no response.

he lowers himself slightly to plant a gentle kiss against your forehead.

secure.

there isn’t another word that could describe this.

feeling safe in the way the sound of his heartbeat thumps beneath your ear. it’s steady and grounded, familiar enough to put you to sleep and give you that sense of security.

higuruma murmurs quietly against your hair as he begins to doze off himself —

“my sleepy princess…”

a/n: i lowkey hate this but ive had no motivation for ages :,(

nerdbf!gojo who's rlly worried about his exam... ;(

the only thing about your boyfriend, with his unkempt hair, rolled up sleeves and slightly crooked glasses after spending hours studying, is that he certainly is not accustomed to failure.

well, he's never really failed at anything in life — ever.

so, you can immediately tell that something's up when he leaves his exam hall appearing horribly pale and unusually quiet.

he's practically dashing to your dorm room before finally knocking on the door.

you open the door, slightly confused until he's dragging his feet across your freshly vacuumed carpet with a narrow and tense scowl instead of his typical theatrical entrance or his stupidly teasing grin.

you were going to go off on him — i mean who drags their muddy shoes all over clearly clean carpets? but, he's already thrown himself onto your couch, sulking.

"satoru, you okay baby?"

"i'm fine..."

"satoru, i know you aren't—"

"ireallyfuckedupmyastrophysicstest." he blurts out, before composing himself and sighing.

"i really messed it up, baby — i thought all my studying was enough but..."

his voice is now a faint murmur, as if he's almost embarrassed to admit that. all he wants to do is just climb into his girlfriends arms and just cry.

"my mind just went blank... can't believe myself man.."

that alone makes you pause, prolonged silence even, as you just stare at him blankly.

gojo is the smartest person you know, damn — the smartest person ever! he doesn't say shit like that, ever!

"there was two questions i completely guessed, then a really long answer about exoplanet detection, i studied that for hours yet i still did so bad, baby!"

he's leaning foward, his head in his hands as his fingers pluck at his hair, exhaling a very quick breath.

"i think i really overcomplicated it, should've made my answer more simple or somethin', how am i going to get into university now?"

it's almost funny — though he actually isn't joking this time.

he's not acting like a untouchable genius, somebody like albert einstein for once; instead he's just your average guy at college freaking out about a singular test.

you move closer to him, lightly nudging his shoulder, sighing.

"satoru, how long have you been at the top of your class, tell me."

"two years" he mutters.

"that makes it worse though! i can't afford to make stupid mistakes like that when i'm the best student in my class."

he immediately fires back, before pausing again, gathering his thoughts.

"babe, what do i do if i actually did really bad...?"

his voice actually trembles, you can hear how scared he is. though, i guess he's more scared by the idea that he isn't as effortlessly intelligent as he comes across, rather than the grade itself.

you reach for his hand, gently pulling it away from his hair. his fingers are tight and rigid at first, but they do gradually relax under your soft, comforting touch.

"you're overthinking, i promise baby. you just care too much sometimes."

he huffs.

"yeah, i guess i do care too much... but can you blame me though!?"

"well, you aren't one to usually admit that you're a massive over-thinker…"

he gives you a quick look, almost a smile, just not quite.

he rests his head on your shoulder, leaning sideways. it geels almost reluctant, hesitant, but more so because he didn't want to make a massive ordeal about needing his girlfriends comfort right now, so he just stays there.

"just stay like this for a minute, sweets..." he murmurs tenderly against the soft skin of your neck.

you do.

and finally, the strongest and the smartest just lays at your side, absoutley defenseless, just letting himself be quiet.

it's about a week later, you're sat at satoru's house, he's sat opposite you on the couch, hands shaking as he handles the small brown envelope with his exam results inside, before finally opening it.

he looks at the piece of paper inside for far too long

then longer.

yeah — way too long

"oh..." he finally speaks up.

you're already observing his reaction, trying to read his facial expression.

"what? good, bad?"

he slowly turns the sheet of paper towards you.

'ASTROPHYSICS: A**'

you sigh dramatically, raising an eyebrow before a long period of silence.

"wow, satoru. that's sooooo bad."

he groans, letting his head fall back on the couch.

"don't even start y/n—"

however, a very much relieved, bright yet still embarrassed smile breaks through.

"guess i didn't mess it up then, huh?"

"yeah, i suppose not, baby."

you roll your eyes, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

" 'm proud of you, satoru."

18+ nanami really did miss you — and he needs to prove that to you.

you only know that nanami is hovering over you in your shared bed, though you aren't exactly too sure when this happened.

he has one hand braced next to your head, the other moving your your shirt, softly squeezing your breast, holding you tight like he doesn't wan't to ever let go. he doesn't.

his eyes remain fixed on yours, observing your expression, the way your breath hitches everytime he brushes his lips past on yours.

he closely examined you, gaze never straying from yours, taking his time to commit every little response you give him — especially those filthy whines he draws out of you — to memory.

his breathing becomes more laboured and his eyes darkening with need, his thumb slowly moving past your nipple through the cotton of your shirt.

"ha... you're so beautiful like this, angel."

his voice is now a deep gruff as he leans closer to you, lips ghosting past your ear.

"dear, you have no idea how much i want to make you mine right now."

you couldn't resist grinning — you already were his, obviously?

when he sees your smile, his hand moves much more.. assertively, the corner of his mouth curls into a smile in return.

he presses you onto the bed under him, his knee sling between your legs as he plants another passionate kiss to your sweet, puckered lips.

he can already feel the heat pooling between your legs, letting out a low growl, applying the tiniest amount of pressure to your clothed cunt with his knee, his kisses a lot more forceful now.

"already so wet for me, hm?"

your tits are now full cupped by his hands; like he was claiming them.

you're unconsciously grinding your drenched heat right into him, responding with a quiet whine when pushes back with just the right amount of force.

his eyes are entirely focused on you, breaking the kiss, face lit up with what can only be explained as joy, now resting his forehead against yours.

"mmm... such a good girl f'me. shiit — no-one else can get those pretty sounds out of you.."

he delicately and slowly rolls his knee against your cunt, waiting for your response, though you whining frantically in his ear, pulling him in closer, practically grabbing his shirt.

"fuck... ken... please."

his lips trail down to your neck, biting down just enough to leave darkening traces of his love alll over you. and he smiles, enjoying how needy you get, just for him.

"mhm, that's it, love. say my name."

his hand gently presses around your nipple, forcefully squeezing your tits

"ah- baby! ken!

he laughs almost menacingly against your neck, his hand moving down to your stomach, sprawling his fingers out, stroking the soft, delicate skin there.

"greedy girl, hm? where do you want me to touch you, my love?"

taking his hand in yours, you guide it down to your clad core. he allows you to lead him down, his breathing becoming ragged — almost stopping. fuck, you're stunning

instead of using his knee to exert pressure, he's palming your cunt through your clothes.

"here, sweetheart? want me to feel the mess you've made on your pretty lil' panties?"

he's keeping touch, lightly pinching your nipples with his other hand.

you can only respond with a feeble nod, looking up at him with those pleading eyes.

"mhm... need to feel you ken."

that only motivates him more — fingers tugging at the waistband of your black lace panties, and he's looking up at you for approval, in which you nod.

he groans just at the sight of your exposed oussy, sliding a finger through your folds, coating his fingertips in your delicious slick.

"ah.. she's so pretty, soaked just f'me."

he lifts his finger up to his mouth, tasting you by gently sucking it.

"so sweet."

he watches you more intently now, circling your sensitive clit with the same finger.

desperately needing some fruition, you let out a ragged whimper, jerking your hips forward.

"ken... please, i need you s'bad."

he's grinning, pressing you down just to keep you still.

"tell me what you need, sweets. use your words properly, okay?"

you hesitate, whining almost.

"need your cock... please."

your directness only makes his eyes sparkle with pure passion, before softly chuckling.

"fuck — such a filthy mouth for such a pretty girl, don't you think?"

however, he does not complain, teasing you by slowly unbuttoning his work shirt.

"so demanding... but since my princess asked so politely.."

now, he's holding you with one hand, unbuttoning his slacks with the other, eventually pulling his boxers down with them.

his hard length springs free, stroking himself once. he moves slowly, gliding his hand all the way from his tip to the base, already leaking pre.

"you really need me, mm... want me to fill you up?"

"mhm- missed my husband sooo much..."

you're looking up at with those eyes, gently caressing his chest with your fingers.

and your words simply make his heart swell, despite him already positioning his throbbing cock between your cunt properly, his expression is still heated, was he blushing?

"missed you too, gorgeous. hate those fucking idiots at work... couldn't wait to come back to you, my darling wife.

he then proceeds to tease you, nudging his flushed tip just against that ring of muscle, not pushing himself inside you yet.

"ngh — don't tease me, ken..."

you scratch at his forearm, to which he chuckles once more, only taking pleasure in your desperation and need , giving your clawed hand a gentle kiss.

"patience, dear. i like seeing you like this for me, so let me enjoy it."

despite that, he's already pressing his firm cock — just an inch — inside you.

desperately, you're clinging to him, tossing your head back just from the sensation alone.

"ah! ken — be gentle baby..."

he grips your hips, watching as your head falls back, cock twitching just at the sight of you — flushed cheeks, teary eyes, tits pressing against his chest, hair all messy.

"fuck- just let me hear those pretty sounds, baby. i know you can take it, so strong f'me."

now, he's caressing your hair tenderly, just before pushing another inch of his throbbing length inside you, enough to drive you insane.

nanami can feel your body trembling beneath him, your soft whimpers now loud, breathy moans.

"oh, sweets... you're shaking already. we've barely started. shhh, it's alright."

your eyes are desperate, pleading, gazing up at him.

"just be gentle, please ken-"

famous last words.

before you know it, nanami's hips snap foward, and in one quick thrust, he's buried completely inside of you, groaning at the sensation of your tight heat.

"ah — shit. so tight princess."

he remains still for a mere minute, giving you time to adjust to the sheer size of his cock, watching your expression attentively, kissing your forehead.

you hide your face in his neck, a soft and shot whimper escaping your lips.

"ah-ah... don't be like that sweets, c'mon."

he begins moving inside you, slowly, pulling out just to drive back into you deeply, nuzzling into your hair, inhaling your scent and breathing hot against your ear.

"ken — it's t'much, i can't..."

his thrusts are steady now, controlled, kissing your temple tenderly.

"you can do it, my love. just don't be hiding your face from me, want to see you, gorgeous."

with his cock fully buried inside you, his tip harshly kissing your cervix whilst the rest of him slides easily against your gummy walls, he adjusts his position, finding himself at a new angle, finally discovering that spongy sweet spot inside you.

he smirks, watching as your eyes widen, holding onto him slightly tighter — but just enough so that he notices.

"shiit, honey... found it, huh? gonna make you feel real good my love."

he maintains that slow, yet intense, pace, deliberately thrusting at your g-spot.

you're clawing at his back, making deep, scraping marks as you try to steady yourself. you're wailing at this point — pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck.

his skin tingles where you leave your trail of his kisses, his hips stuttering at the sensation.

"ngh — fuck, baby... gonna mark me up aren't you?"

he grabs your thighs, lifting them slightly before folding you into a cruel mating press.

your legs are spread wide, pussy lips gleaming with a filthy mixture of your slick and his pre-cum. he groans deeply at the new position, feeling his cock draaaging along your walls as you clench around him. he can only gaze down at you with instinctive lust.

"a-ah! ken!"

you attempt to cover your mouth, trying desperately to conceal your moan, though it proves difficult when his leaking, flushed tip keeps prodding at your g-spot.

"ngh.. ah, my love—"

he moves one of his hands down to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, so that you can reaally feel how much he fills you up.

"you feel me right here, honey? right in your stomach — fuck."

his thrusts only become more assertive, rough.

your walls flutter around his cock, to which he growls, feeling your slippery cunt grip around his thick length like that — it just made him snap his hips harder, thumb finding its way to your clit, rubbing firm circles over its sensitive bundle of nerves

you nod. furiously.

"fuck, mmph! want your cum ken~"

that alone causes his eyes to flash with dominance, drilling into you now — almost punishing.

"oh shiit — you'll get it, love. give you everything i got, fill you up... mm."

he leans down, biting your shoulder, leaving dark, bruising marks which really pushes you now.

"mmph! fuckfuckfuck... i'm gonna cum ken!"

his cock pulses inside you, feeling his own release building, gritting his teeth.

"ah- cum for me sweets, all over my - ngh! -cock."

he's chasing both of your orgasm with unpredictable thrusts , finally driving you over the edge.

your eyes are rolling back, practically seeing white, so overwhelmed by sensation, his thick cock sheathed inside you whilst he plays with your pretty lil' clit.

he watches you closely, letting out soft moans himself as he feel your walls continuously clamping down on him, your body tensing.

"thereee you go, pretty girl... oh fuck... cum with me, okay? shit-"

he gives one last powerful thrust, his cum spilling into you, covering your fluttering walls with his sperm.

he groans louder, pumping you full, body shuddering with his release. still folded in that mean mating press, but now he's panting heavily; watching your face diligently as you fall apart.

"so perfect f'me, aren't you gorgeous? mmph shit-"

"fuck, yes! i love you — iloveyouiloveyou... ah!"

as you both come down from your highs, he gasps into your ear, his cock still fully buried to the hilt inside of you.

he kisses your temple softly.

"shit — i love you so much, my gorgeous wife..."

his hands are now tenderly massaging your sides, a heavy contrasts between his previous roughness. he begins slowly pulling out, watching how his cum spills out of your ruined cunt.

you can only mange to whimper feebly as he presses a kiss on your forehead.

he brushes the hair away from your face, throwing you an affectionate grin.

he's admiring your face, completely fucked out just from one round, cheeks all flushed.

"my sweet angel, so beautiful when you're all fucked out..."

as if everything else wasn't already embarassing enough — you're turning a deep shade of pink.

if anything, he only finds your embarrassment adorable, letting out a genuine laugh.

"you going to try and give me attitude now?"

he carefully adjusts his hold on you, hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"silly girl..."

a/n: okay... this is my first time writing smut D; sorry if it's kinda cliché i tried!!!

a clingy kento nanami?

it had been barely half an hour nanami returned home

now — you’re lying down next to him in your shared bed, curled into his side and closer than circumstances required, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

in unbroken silence, you both just simply lay there.

his arm instinctively finds its way around your waist, drawing you impossibly closer to him as you only nuzzled further into the crook of his neck.

it’s nothing deliberate, nothing that needed to be announced, just as if it were second nature to him, to constantly seek your warmth and comfort. it was.

the pad of his thumb traced slow, unhurried arcs over the curve of your waist. the same slow and rhythmic movement grounding himself without realising. his hand rests comfortably at your waist, ever so often gently reeling you back in beside him whenever you shifted away in the slightest, refusing any distance

of course, you noticed

you tilt your head slightly, lips curving up into a soft smile against his neck before glancing up at him with those soft, doe-like eyes.

“you’ve been so clingy ever since you’ve gotten back, ken.”

he pauses before slowly turning his head — meeting your eyes and a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth

his gaze lowers to his hand, which was still rubbing small circles over your hip.

“… three days away from you was excessive.”

you can’t help but smile — enjoying this side of him that only you got to see.

“you’re so cute, ken.”

a small chuckle escapes your lips.

you drape your leg over his with that quiet familiarity, the weight of your body now pressing against his. his hands move to steady you, his hand mapping the length of your back, fingertips trailing slowly up your spine in slow ascent, hesitating just briefly near the clasp of your bra.

and his arm tightens around you again as if that alone explains everything.

neither of you say anything for a while, you just lay there, nestled into his side as his hand periodically dipped lower, just for a moment, fingers pressing into the curve of your ass and giving it a fleeting squeeze before easing back up your waist.

languid, unfocused strokes along your body that felt oddly warm. it was grounding, undisturbed.

“…ken,”

you murmur softly, tilting your head just enough to glance at him.

he hums in response before eventually speaking.

“everything alright, sweetheart?”

his voice is a lot lower now, softened by slumber, and of course you.

you hum back in response, drawing small shapes on his chest.

“mhmm… just thinking.”

he turns slightly, just so that he can look at you properly, his grip on your waist never once loosening

“about?”

he queries, fingertips now moving to brush the light strands of hair covering your eyes.

you hesitate for a minute — mouth opening to speak before closing again.

“… you. i really do mean it, i’m not just sayin’ that.”

that only earns a small pause from him, his fingers still for a second before resuming their soft, comforting movements.

“yeah, that so, angel?”

you nod slightly, your own eyes flicking up to meet his deep hazel eyes.

“mhmm…”

you now find yourself unconsciously inching even closer than you already were to him.

and he knows — you can feel it in the way nanami tightens his arm around you, the other hand gently caressing your cheek again.

but this time, his hand keeps drifting up just a little higher along your back each time, his touch a lot more deliberate and unhurriedly now.

not yet wondering, only feeling

you shift slightly under his touch, your leg now pressing into his as you crave his comfort further, eyes closing as you press your ear against his chest.

he exhales quietly, as if he were entertained.

“…hey, i haven’t finished yet.”

you blink, glancing up at him.

“hm? finished what, ken?”

his gaze was already on you, eyes tracing your features with quiet intent. had he been doing that before?

his thumb brushed against your cheek before a light smile tugged at the corner of his lip.

“looking at you, gorgeous.”

something in your chest falters, just a tiiiny bit. then before you know it, his complete and undivided attention is solely on you, one hand still tightly wrapped around your waist, the other moving to the nape of your neck.

“so gorgeous, darling.”

he presses a kiss on your forehead, a soft, rosy pink flush blooming at your ears before you had even known it.

“…that was random.”

you mumble, heat still creeping up your neck at his random comments even after all these years, how did he make everything sound so effortless?

“what, don’t believe me?”

your face warms slightly, and you instinctively tuck yourself closer into him, concealing your face from his.

“…you’re so ridiculous sometimes.”

you manage, voice still muffled against his chest.

he hums quietly, neither agreeing nor denying.

his hand continues its slow, winding path along your side, occasionally drifting up again, his touch wavering beneath your chin, gently diverting your attention and coaxing your gaze back towards him.

you don’t resist – well, not really.

“you really don’t believe me, sweetheart?”

he repeats himself again after a moment of habitable stillness, his voice low, controlled, and steady.

you hesitate — again, your lips parting slightly.

“no… i do – just…”

you trail off, honestly unsure how to even answer his question.

his thumb traced the warmth of your cheekbone, resting there briefly, like he was trying to memorise you.

“…just?”

your eyes flick away for a second, puffing out softly.

“you say it as if it’s nothing.”

you mumble, evidently flustered again.

that earns a quiet pause from nanami. then— his gaze softens, just slightly.

“…i see.”

his hand shifts, cupping your jaw again with quiet certainty, not forceful, just enough to ensure that you’re reaaallly looking at him.

“would you prefer i demonstrated it instead?”

your heart skips a beat.

“…what?”

he exhales a soft sigh – though it sounds more like a laugh if anything.

“do i have to prove it to you, sweetheart?”

restful quietness.

“only if you want me to… of course.”

a/n : part 3 on its way w/ smut ;) - will probs upload tomorrow just tired today :P

your husband kento nanami on a work trip...

the past few days have been insufferable without nanami

everyday drags on endlessly, always counting down the minutes until you can finally see him again. honestly — what even was the point in a work trip!?

the warm comfort of your shared apartment has since been replaced with something colder — as if the place felt unfinished without him. everything just felt out of place, the constant reminders of him lingering around the house. the side of his bed that remained untouched, his coat hanger empty, and the deafening silence throughout the apartment which replaced his usual soft, comforting words.

you try your best to try and push through until the very sunday he comes back — of course.

the house is clean, stacks of clean laundry piled on top of the dryer, dinner's always made, just missing the comfort of the very man who sat down to eat with you , always willing to listen to you talk about the randomness of things. instead, the tv remains in the background, in attempt to fill the deafening silence filling the space.

yet, everything you do still draaags on, time simply just passing instead of living it.

because his absence speaks louder than anything else.

kento nanami is a mixture of many things — but he's always constant, even without you realising.

so, when he's gone — you really feel it.

deeply...

by the time sunday has finally arrived, you're constantly checking the glowing red digits of the analog clock on your shared nightstand more times than you're ever willing to admit.

his messages short, yet still oh-so sweet.

"boarding now, sweetheart."

"just landed."

"don't wait up for me, please angel."

you decide to completely ignore that last message anyway — because how could you not wait up for him? the past couple days without him have been awful, you just miss him sooooo much.

the apartment is only lit by the soft flicker of the vanilla scented candle nanami had gotten you as a gift before he'd left. besides it, the flowers he'd also gifted beginning to wilt, their petals curling inwards. the small pink card that came along with the flowers resting nearby, filled with careful words about how much he’d miss you.

then, you finally hear it.

the faint, precise click of the front door.

most people wouldn't of even heard it. but your head lifted up immediately, the drowsiness you felt from waiting up for him for god knows how long had diminished — almost instantly.

and now he's just leaning against the doorframe.

his tie's loosened, shoulders slumped from the heavy weight of whatever affairs he'd have to put up with when he was away. the light crease between his brows was more pronounced — just from the stress of travel, work, everything else he has to carry every single day without complaint. but, most importantly...

the lingering sense of emptiness he felt just from being separated from his wife for three days.

he's leaning against the doorway, pausing, just looking at you before exhaling a small sigh.

"kento?"

you asked, though your voice came out a lot softer than you had expected...

he simply smiled, heavy footsteps making their way towards you.

"i told you not to wait up for me, angel."

his voice is low, gruff, but still much gentler than anything he's used for the past three days. he sighs, now standing in front of you, one of his thumbs gently brushing over your cheek as his other hand smooths through your hair.

you lean into his hand, bottom lip puckering out slightly.

"missed you... s'much"

you admit, nanami already crouching down just to sneak a glance at your beautiful eyes.

simple, honest, which was all it took for kento nanami.

he let out a soft, slow, yet controlled sigh, which sounds more like relief if anything else.

"i know, sweetheart. i missed you too."

he plants a soft, warming kiss to your temple.

his arms are already opening up to envelope yoy in a gentle, welcoming hug, just a small expression to show how much he missed you.

of course — you wrap your arms around him, hands tenderly stroking his back, your nose already buried into the crook of his neck, feeling his warmth, inhaling the faint scent of his musk on, perhaps from the cologne he had sprayed earlier today.

it was familiar in a way that makes your chest ache a little, because you didn’t realize how much you needed this until now.

nanami hadn't even bothered to remove his coat — his hands still slightly cold from the bitterness of the cold outside , yet the rest of him so warm, cordial...

but, the way he holds you, hands wrapped tightly around you, grounding and steady — as if he never wanted to let go. almost as if he was anchoring himself just as much as he was you.

he continues stroking your hair, his chin now resting lightly atop of your head.

"you really shouldn't of waited up for me, princess..."

he murmured against your hair, voice softening just for you.

"i always do ken, can't help it."

pause. a gentle, comfortable silence.

then, even quieter.

"i know..."

his hold on you now tightening, not enough to hurt, but just enough to show how much you really meant to him.

you pull back slightly, just to look at his face — exhaustion evident on his face, the faint shadows reflecting under his eyes, his shoulders still tense.

your hands find their way down to his loosened tie and scruffy collar, slowly pulling his tie out of its various loops before letting it drop to the floor.

"long trip then, hm?"

you questioned, now concerned as you study his tired expression.

"inefficient..."

he replies flatly, seeming more irritated just from the mention of his work alone.

you huff a small laugh.

"of course it was."

his hand comes up to rest over yours that lay comfortably over his collar.

"you must be sleepy, huh?"

he questioned, his fingers intertwining with yours as he slowly brings up your hand to his lips.

your breath catches — just a little.

"yeah... a tiny bit."

you reply.

he studies you for a second, like he’s committing something to memory, letting out a small hum in reply before pressing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand

the whole apartment feels right again.

like everything’s settled back into place.

he finally lifts himself off up of his feet, pressing a final kiss on your knuckles before sliding his leather coat off.

“have you had anything to eat, darling?”

he asks, already slipping back into routine.

"mhm. there's some leftovers from dinner if you want some."

"leftovers?"

he repeats back to you, nodding once.

"that would be... acceptable."

but he doesn’t move towards the kitchen, not yet at least.

he stays with you just for a few seconds longer, though a lot longer the necessary, quiet and composed, but as can and soft as the world will ever get to see him.

and i guess this time the apartment doesn't feel empty anymore, that familiar surge of warmth filling up your heart.

fushiguro toji isn't a soft man.

he's the infamous sorcerer killer after all...

he’s always ever-so blunt and sharp. always carrying that same restless look, dark, inky locks falling messily over his forehead, a permanently etched scowl on his face, always annoyed at someone or something.

yet, he can't help himself around you.

his sweet, delicate wife.

"ma?"

you can hear his voice behind you, tired as always, yet a that familiar softness evident in that tone of his. his hands find their ways around you waist, warm hands slithering down your hips and enveloping you in a warm hug.

"s'everything good?" need anything 'ji?"

you asked, trying desperately to focus at the task at hand, trying to prepare breeakfast for little megumi who's sat cross legged infront of the tv, long indulged in some cartoon you'd accidentally left on from the night before.

"mhh.."

toji grunts, pulling you somewhat closer, if even possible.

"missed ya."

he plants a few soft kiss along your jaw, up to your temple before watching over your shoulder, focusing on the way you delicately cut up megumi's fruits.

your lips curved up into a smile, of course - how could you help it when you could call this sexy man your husband?

"i missed ya too..."

you lean against toji's heavy weight, looking up at him over your shoulder.

his eyes flicker to your lips. he lets out a... sound? it sounded somewhat like a strained laugh, moan?

"god, you're so fucking beautiful..."

toji kisses your temple continuously before finally mounting his chin on your shoulder, the pads of his thumbs now rubbing gentle circles on your hips.

you couldn't help but smile again, letting out a small giggle before hurrying to steal a kiss from him, then gathering up megumi's cut fruit into a bowl and pushing yourself off of the counter to go serve them to your son.

toji just stands there — watching as you walk away, squatting down to tend to megumi as if it was the most natural, domestic thing in the world. well, it was.

he kisses his teeth.

"jesus..."

he huffs, now with a visible tent in his sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips.

a/n: hii!! my first work ever. do not judge ;(