mel⁷

fuck every star in the sky!

⋆˚꩜｡24, MDNI! masterlist. i do write smut so fyi 🔮only jjk

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Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Profanity, Higuruma is pissed and it's your fault, heavy boss x intern dynamic(😛), Higuruma scolds you and it makes you wet, Nanami doesn't like that, he's also #out of character, I'm sorry if you're not into that lol. Written in present tense.

Word count: 2497

The office is dull. Must be my frown, you think. Something Nanami would probably tell you when he sees you sulking at your desk. The weather's appropriate too, cloudy with a chance of bullshit. You can feel it, something annoying will happen.

Like an old woman's rheumatoid arthritis flaring up, you can feel it in your knees.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Kobayashi spins your chair, a playful grin on her face. "Could it be..." She leans in. "The super hot and sexy Nanami Kento?"

You frown. "No." And attempt to swat her annoying hands away, a subtle smile on your face. "I'm telling you, I'm not into him like that."

"Like what?" She giggles. "Oh come on, L/n! Everyone is into him like that, stop playing."

"Not me." You shrug, insistent. "He's a great guy, super nice, I don't fantasize about him."

Kobayashi rolls her eyes, she doesn't believe you. Getting settled at her own desk, "Who do you fantasize about, then?" She asks.

Now that's a dangerous question. Ordinarily, you would spill all your thoughts if someone asked you about your fantasies, but at work, things can spread way too quickly. So you tell her: "No one."

"No one?" Kobayashi squints. "Mhm, sure."

"You're irritating." You laugh and scrunch a blank paper into a ball before throwing it against her head, then laugh some more.

Kobayashi gasps. "You little-" as she's rushing to scrunch a paper herself. It lands on your shoulder and giggles erupt in your cubicle.

Until Shimizu interrupts, "What the hell is going on here?" She stands with her arms crossed and the two of you immediately pick of the balls of paper from the floor, saving the last of your decorum under her hardening gaze.

All the other interns watch over their panels as Shimizu tells you two off for being immature. Then she turns to you. "Higuruma wants you in his office. Now."

So the hearing didn't go well, you think, based on her attitude. She's pissed, and you're certain Higuruma is too.

Issue is, you don't know what it has to do with you.

You gulp, quick steps following Shimizu out of the elevator while bombarding her with questions like: "Is he angry?", "Did I do something wrong?", "Is he gonna fire me for real this time?", "Why are we walking so fast?"

None of them are answered and you're left on your own in front of the oak door. You knock. Nothing. You knock again, then peak your head in. "Mister Higuruma?"

He's at his desk, leaned back, wrists against the ebony, head tilted slightly down, pupils raised on you, the ocean of white under them makes you feel a certain way. He raises his brows. "In."

The air is thick, you feel it weighing down on your slouched shoulders, it's his eyes. Car crash. You wince, clear your throat. "Did you need something?"

It's painful how focused he is. If looks could kill...

"The hearing was postponed." He says and it thuds like a gavel against a sound block. "We were granted a continuance."

"Oh." Is all you can muster up. He's gunning such a fiery glare it feels like it's your fault, somehow. "I'm sorry."

Higuruma leans in, slow yet composed, "Do you know why?" He asks.

You shake your head. Gulp.

"You worked on this file." His voice is dull, colorless, he's merely stating a fact. "Organized the materials, signed off on it before sending it to Shimizu."

"That's true, but I wasn't in the room." You chew on the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting. "I don't know... What happened."

"The judge refused to proceed," he explains instantly and palms his mouth. He's aggravated. Even the wind doesn't move around the scent of fresh laundry in the room. There's a faint smoke hanging in the air instead, cigarettes. "Because certain documents weren't in the record. A supplemental report, an amended witness statement. Both of which are referenced everywhere in this file and neither of which are attached to the moving packet."

"But I included them-"

"No, you didn't." He cuts you off. "If you did, they'd be there."

"I thought they were."

"Thinking is not enough." He's trying not to lose it, and his jaw tensing is proof of that.

You're stupid, we've established this, so you open your mouth once more to argue: "I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't. That's not an excuse." He's sharp, one brow cocked, he's covering his mouth with his hands again.

They're veiny, like he's holding back. It takes you for a swoon, you don't mean to fantasize in such a state, but he's not making it exactly easy to stay normal. He looks insanely hot. Especially when he drags his hands down his face in that way he does. You're a little obsessed with it.

"How old are?" He asks after a brief moment of silence.

"Twenty-four."

He hums, scratches his face. "You're young. New. You're allowed to be inexperienced, but you're not allowed to be careless."

"I'm not-"

"You are." He leaves no room for petulant arguments, raises a hand. As if telling you to shut the fuck up. "You were when you signed off on this file and because of that, an innocent man who's been sitting in a cell, waiting to be heard, will continue sitting there until the next hearing. Because you didn't care enough to double-check."

You get fizzy nose. Those cry baby tears threaten to fall when his volume increases towards the end of his sentence. It brings a knot to your throat, one you can't quite swallow. So you look down, avoid his slanted eyes, they're drilling holes into your glazed ones.

The man you made up in your head doesn't really match the man sitting in front of you. You reckon you should probably stop fingering yourself to the thought of him in the shower, and start maybe working on your emotions.

You're quiet as you mumble: "I'll go pack my things..."

"I'm not ending your internship." He sighs, the words drag from his throat, deep, rough, he's not trying to be gentle. "That's not what this is."

"But-" you wet your lips. "I made a huge mistake."

"Mistakes are made all the time, what matters is that you learn from them. That's why you're under an internship program, and as your supervisor, it is unfortunately my responsibility to teach you."

Unfortunately. He means it.

He adjusts his tie with one finger, pulls it down just a little. You see the way his Adam's apple move up and down, see the way his cheeks hollow as he inhales deeply. "I am, however, ending your illusion that you can coast through this place doing small favors for the office thinking that makes you useful."

Ouch!

Wind blows suddenly, dances with the hem of your skirt and you pat it down with your palms, holding it against your knees, then look into his eyes and forget about your shaky voice. "What do you want me to do?"

"Grow up." He says. Straight up, no bullshit. It's expected of him, but it feels degrading. That's a little mean, you think. He doesn't seem to agree. His eyes move down to where you're pulling your skirt down to make sure you're not flashing him. It prompts him to scrape his chair back, peel his eyes off of you, and push the window closed.

He doesn't shut it completely, just enough to block the wind. "I want you to grow up and change." He continues while circling his desk. "Law is unforgiving, especially this part of it. My margin of error is measured in years of someone's life, and any little mistake you or anyone at the office makes costs me greatly."

He's leaned against his desk, finaling his statement.

"I'm sorry." You tell him. Your fingers twitch and you're looking down at your speedcat ballet flats.

He's looking at them too, thinks they're awful and that they look like cleats. He never understood the new wave of shoe trends all the girls are wearing, but doesn't care enough to judge out loud.

He glances back up at your face. "I know you are." His arms are crossed like a teacher. "I also know that so many people would kill to be in your position, so I advise you to start taking this seriously. You don't get to act like this is school, you don't assume things are complete. You double-check, triple-check if you have to. You read, you ask, you look at the gaps and bother me and Shimizu until those gaps are closed. That's why I'm your supervisor. I'm here to help."

You breathe in, nodding. "I understand."

He nods too, uncrosses his arms in exhaustion, lets them dangle on either side while eyeing you up and down. His hair is a little messy from the countless times he's combed through them in stress. The hearing was a total mess. "You made the mistake-" he points. "You stay here and fix it."

"What?"

"I want you to review the file all over again, until every single page is complete and flawless. You're not allowed to leave until then."

Your words come in chopped waves, you point over your shoulder. "But I got work to do."

He grits his teeth. "I'm telling you to sit down and work on this file."

"Okay." You hiccup. Fuck, don't cry.

But it's like he wants you to. Like he's out to get you. "Say it properly." He demands.

You're taken aback, looking up at the ceiling, doing everything in your power to not sob uncontrollably in front of him. You clear your throat, tie your hands behind your back, and gulp. Eyes on his. "I'll work on this file until it's complete, sir."

"That's better." He hums, then points at one of the chairs. "Please sit."

—

Nanami's gaze lands on Kobayashi after he can't find you at your desk. "Where's L/n?"

"Mister Higuruma's office." Kobayashi beams up at him, fingers pausing on her keyboard. "It's been like, an hour?"

"An hour?" He repeats in a whisper, jaw clenching. His large hand goes to his jaw, sighing into it.

He's not sure why he's feeling this way, but he doesn't like it.

—

An hour under his deadly gaze and you're squeamish. Okay, maybe it's because you really need to pee, but that's besides the point. He's still looking at you like disappointment is all he's capable of feeling. The end of one of his spare pens is between your teeth, being chewed to mere trash. You're a little hungry.

The tips of his index and middle finger drill into his temple, he's resting his head against them, leaned back, legs spread. Well, you can't see his legs through the desk, but you're assuming position. You're hoping position.

He would look so hot sitting like that. Jesus Christ, slut. Pull yourself together.

"Everything okay?" He mumbles.

Oh my god, you think. His voice is raspy. It's the first time he's said something in that hour, since the last question you asked. He is glad, though. Wants you to ask, to learn.

"Yeah!" You chirp. "Just..."

"Ask." He leans in, eyes closing and opening slowly. "Please." He's practically begging you to bother him. You're a little more reserved than all the other interns. They bombard everyone with questions but you're trying to figure everything out on your own and that irritates him. No one's ever made him feel so useless before. "Just ask me anything. Doesn't matter how small or insignificant you think it is."

You nod, gulp, take the pen out of your mouth and tap the inked ball to the notebook he gave you to jot down whatever you needed. "If I find three things missing, how do I know which ones matter for the next hearing and which can wait until trial?"

"Ask yourself one question: does it change bail, guilt, or how the judge sees my client right now?"

"Bail, guilt, judge." You repeat in a whisper.

"If it touches any of those, it's urgent." He adds. "If not, it can wait."

You hum. "So, for example, the supplemental report from the arresting officer?"

He's relieved. A voluntary question, hallelujah! He thinks. "Does it change any of the three things I listed?" He throws back at you.

Your lips press together. Surely it does, otherwise the hearing wouldn't have been delayed. "It changes how the judge sees him, right? And the facts of the arrest so... Guilt, as well."

"Then it's urgent." He smiles faintly. It's fatigued, the bags under his eyes are deeper now, but at least he's not trying to kill you anymore. As you're scribbling it down, "Good thing you're a fast learner." He admits.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, your neck, and lastly your ears. They perk up like you're a cat being fed wet food for the first time in months. You almost want to purr, or even meow.

Honestly, if this was anything more than a professional setting, you probably would have. Your bedroom preferences are as weird as your personality, it's tragically true.

With the way he looks at you, something is purring.

You squeeze your thighs together and huff. You need a distraction, or a pee break, but since you're not getting that: "What's with all these?" You ask instead and flip the papers for him to see, using the chewed end of the pen as a wand to point. "Some things are circled in red and say 'ask later', am I meant to ignore them or...?"

"Those are mine." He deadpans.

His brows are lowered and yours are raised. "Oh."

"They usually mean I saw something I didn't have the time to look into. You're supposed to make sure they're looked into."

"Got it." You whisper and jot it down.

You're tapping your foot, wriggling like a worm now that your bladder is really pushing it. He notices, cocks a brow. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You're squirming in your seat." He says. "Spit it out."

It's embarrassing but so is everything else you do lately, so you groan. "I just, I really need to pee."

Higuruma sighs. Leans back, drags his hands down his face, you get a glimpse of his neck, how it stretches, the subtle veins popping. When he looks back at you, he huffs. "So just tell me."

"I didn't think I'd be allowed to go."

He frowns like you said the most outrageous thing in the world. "I- what? Allowed? Why would I deprive you of that?"

You squirm, tapping both your feet now.

"Go." He gestures tiredly. "Use the restroom."

"Thank you so much!" You're out of the office in an instant.

He's left to stare at the door briefly, chest heaving as he takes in a deep breath. One he lets back out through his mouth, shaking his head. "Such a weird girl."

Consciously or not, a chuckle falls from his lips.

Author's note: based on this post

Pairing: Boyfriend!Satoru Gojo x racially ambiguous Fem!Reader

Content: fluff into smut, p0rn without plot (kinda?), your boyfriend is tired but still horny, pretty vanilla, "I love you", calls himself daddy as a joke, some groping, tired moaning, desperate grinding, blindfold on then off, brief hand-job to get him going, titty sucking, praise praise praise, body-worship (both receiving and giving), humps you like a puppy and fucks you like a dog, you make him hard, "atta girl", just sloppy fucking, big dick!Gojo because duh!, creampie, he definitely whimpers when he's tired who said that?👀, gets you to call him daddy too, giggles, little spanking (playful), domestic, sleep as aftercare. English is not my first language, also this is written in present tense.

Word count: 2271

You see him in the mirror.

Sprawled out on your shared bed in nothing but his Calvin Kleins. He's devious, the way he biceps flex when his hands rest under his head, his abs stretched out on his long torso, toned legs apart and tangled in the silk purple sheets. You're smiling like an idiot and he notices.

His silver hair is tussled and held back by his black blindfold, which you've always had a thing for. Satoru knows this, of course. That's exactly why he's smirking.

As you're twisting the cap on the big tub of lotion, "You tired, big guy?" You ask him.

He nods his head, flexes his muscles because he wants to kill you because he's tired, yawning obnoxiously loud.

"Yeah?" You giggle and turn to him. "What's wrong?"

Satoru's eyes aren't on yours, they're on your body. Loves the amount of skin he's looking at, bare thighs under a little black shorts, your neck and chest, sides of your boobs which he so desperately wants to squeeze. "Yuji's so hyper all the time and-"

You pretend to gasp dramatically, clutch your chest. "Someone's managed to out-hype thee Satoru Gojo?"

"Shut up." He laughs, tries to kick you gently at the end of the bed but you dodge it. "No one out-hypes me. Matter fact, no one outs me in any category."

You roll your eyes at the arrogance but a grin tugs at your lips, be lying if you said you didn't love that about him.

"Anyways-" he rolls his wrist, hand hanging limp in fatigue. "Had to fight, like, five curses to save his ass."

The image flickers before your eyes. It always has you feral to see him fight, makes you feel delusional sometimes, like you've made him up or something.

Feels unbelievable to think The Strongest is lying in your bed, dating you, has fucked you on numerous occasions.

You're rubbing lotion into your leg, foot perched on the side of the bed, a distraction from the insanely sexy thoughts that are flooding your mind.

"What's with that face, baby?" He asks while you're finishing up your other leg and don't bother to put the tub back in the drawer. Youre staring down at him, one foot still on the mattress. Satoru reaches out with both arms, bicep big as hell, "Come to daddy." He says.

You frown and smack his foot, giggling "Ew, don't say that."

"Why not?" His hands remain out until you're crawling on top of them, then they're wrapping around you, pulling your body down against his. "I'm your big daddy."

"No." Your hand finds his mouth and covers it. "You're just my boyfriend."

He mumbles a little "Just?" Behind your hand, the pokes out his tongue and wets your palm, which makes you giggle. "I'm not just your boyfriend, I'm thee best boyfriend you've ever had."

"And you're so confident about it because...?"

Despite your attempts at nonchalance, his hands roaming up and down your hips launches a pool of heat straight to your pussy. It shoots through your bones like a shockwave, setting you aflame.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, makes you shiver. "Because I'm positive no other guy has ever pleased you like I do."

Whispers in his deep voice are enough to send you to the looney bin, you're not sure how you've survived so far without eating him.

Still, you feign indifference and tangle your legs with his larger and longer ones. "You're so full of yourself."

He's unbreakable proud when he hums and sneaks his hand down your thigh, then back up, pokes his thumb under the hem of your shorts and pulls the fabric up. "Yeah baby, you wanna be full of me too?"

There she is, the shy you.

Urgently trying to hide your red face from his sight, you bury it in his neck and throw an around over his shoulder.

And while his fingers get bold under your shorts, his other hand snakes around your waist, pulls you up a little. "Babe-" he kisses your shoulder, then your neck, "You're makin' me hard." Then your jaw. Doing everything to force your head up.

The bend of your spine pushes your crotches closer, as if that's even possible. You feel it. The bulge. It's huge, and although this is not your first rodeo, it makes you gasp every single time.

He grinds up at you, rolls his hips, grunts, drags a whimper out of your mouth, and grins against your skin. "You feel it?"

"Mhm." You meet his grin with your hips, fingers already digging into his shoulder.

He chuckles and you feel it rumble in his hard chest, making your nipple perk up and dig into him. "Well, do something about it."

His fingers curl under the hem of your shorts, pulling it up on either side to make it look more like panties, digging into your slit and making you cry out a moan.

"Toru..."

He spanks your ass, then rubs his palm over the sting to soothe it. "Come on baby, help me out."

You spread his legs apart with your knees, settling in between them, and he immediately sits up and pulls you close, hands urging to hook under your waistband. You do the same.

Shedding each other of the little clothes you're wearing until you're naked and fucking pathetic.

He drools at the sight of you. Your tits sitting so perfectly in each admiring hand, he squeezes them.

Your wandering hands are on his cock. Fully hard, throbbing against your delicate fingers. A single pump is enough to make him throw his head back, groan like a bitch. "Fuck."

He's almost limp, pressing his palms into the mattress behind him as his legs spread apart involuntarily. He lets you do whatever you need to, moaning in a beautiful pitch, music to your ears. "Just like that, shit. Gonna cum in your hands."

"No." You whisper and pump from his leaking tip all the way down to the base of his cock where his balls throb. "Don't cum yet."

"Don't really have a choice-" he wails out breathlessly. "When you're- fuck, when you're touchin' me like that, baby."

The state he's in is delicious, and equally relatable. You're staining the sheets already, leaking down your thighs. You're grinding your pussy against nothing, searching for friction like a slut while your hands work to throw him into a frenzy. He reaches out to pinch one of your nipples. "Can I suck 'em?"

Silly, you think. He does not need permission, you're already straddling him and puffing your chest out for him.

He sucks immediately, holding your boob up with one hand while the other grips your hip. Your hands pump his cock between your bodies, and now you have something to grind yourself against.

You drag your slit up and down his balls, spasming when his wrinkly skin brushes your clit. "Fuck!" You moan.

It only drives him crazier, makes him push your tits together to suck both of your nipples at the same time. He flicks his tongue against them, pops them with a wet kiss, moans and shoots vibrations through your entire body. "So pretty."

"You're so hot." You say almost in sync. Equally obsessed with him. The way he looks, sounds, the way he carries himself.

He's chuckling. It comes out in short, helpless breaths, but the rasp in his voice makes it sound smooth. "Yeah? You like my cock, baby?"

"I love your cock." You correct him, hissing like you're angry he even asked. It makes you sulk when he his mouth leaves your nipples, and his hands take yours off his cock.

Instead, he grips his shaft and pushes it down until his tip kisses your dripping pussy. "Yeah?" He rubs it up and down your slip, parting your lips only slightly, an evil smirk on his fucking face. "You want it inside you, don't cha?"

All you're able to do is nod. Your lips part, chest heaves, nails scratch his shoulder muscles like you're trying to tear him open and live inside his skin.

"Say please." He's cynical in the way he teases.

Doesn't let you play with yourself either, slaps your hands away with his free one, then uses it to squeeze one of your tits. They're way too perfect not to. You've absolutely corrupted him.

"Please please please please!" You lean into him, arch your back like the slut you are, and grind against his aching tip.

He mocks you, laughs at your state. There's nothing he wants more than to ram his cock deep into your pussy, but Satoru is way too arrogant for his own good. Likes the power that comes with having a girl beg for him, especially when that girl is you.

So he grins, wets his lips, clearly planning something annoying. Then he demands it. "Say please daddy."

There's not a part in his body that believes you'll say it, doesn't think your desperation for him has reached such levels yet, albeit, his heart skips a beat when you do, in fact, say: "Please daddy!"

It's not the word itself that gets him. Satoru has never been particularly into it, finds it a little weird, even, but the kink is besides the point. It's the absolute yearning that makes heat pool in the bottom of his stomach.

How far you're willing to go for his cock.

"Holy shit baby." He groans and before you know it, you're on your back. He traps you under him and pushes it. You gasp at the same time, staring into the black void of his blindfold, shaking from the sheer pleasure that's amalgamating the two of you into one singular being.

Your red and his blue create hollow purple in your womb.

He blooms when he's inside of you.

The thrust is moderate, slow, gentle, absolutely sensual. He likes taking his time with what he loves, and you are what he loves most. Never lets you forget when he's this deep. "I love you."

You pull him in by the neck, wrap your arms around him and whisper it back into his mouth. "I love you too."

Those are the words that promp him to thrust faster. He grips onto your hips, whimpers and slams himself in and out, filling the room with the sounds of your skins slapping.

"So fucking tight, fuck!" He pulls your legs up, hands jabbed behind your knees, spreading you like an eagle, he fucks you like a dog. "I love your pussy."

When the moans allow, you hum in question. Your cheeks are flushed as if it's your face he's been slapping, hands massaging his broad shoulders. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He groans into your neck, licks a hot strip of saliva all the way up to your ear, where he pulls your earlobe into his mouth, grazes it with his teeth and mumbles around it: "So fucking much."

The fatigue is prominent, his thrusts aren't as sharp as they usually are, but the pathetic moaning in your ear makes up for the sloppiness. You'd be lying if you said you aren't kind of into how messily he's fucking you. His arms around now around your waist, big biceps lifting your back and making you arch over them, hugs you into your climax. "'M gonna cum."

"Me too." You mewl, wrap your legs around him and track your hand over his undercut, feeling the hairs spike against your palm until you reach his blindfold. Swiftly, you pull it off his face, meeting his icy blue eyes that are staring at your with such hunger, it makes you want to die. "Gonna cum so hard."

"Yeah baby, you are." He dips down, nips at your jaw, licks your skin, sucks your lips in desperation, going more feral as he reaches his own climax. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside!" You cry out immediately, securing his body by crossing your ankles on his lower back. "Inside please!"

Your fingers are in the soft, longer parts of his silver hair fallen onto his forehead.

Sweat slicks your bodies as you spasm under him, feeling him throb inside you one last time before hot cum fills you up.

You're cumming all over his cock and balls too, mewling like a slut while he fucks all of it back into you, keeping you plugged. "Atta girl, give me all of it."

"Toru!" You whine, groan as you're being fucked through your orgasm. "Fuck! Oh my god!"

He hums into your ear, thrusts slowing down, and kisses any and every part of your face he can, finally landing on your lips. His tongue swirls inside immediately, sucks on yours and collapses on top of you. His entire bodyweight sinks you down into the mattress, hides you under his brawny build.

"Fuck, baby." He huffs, chuckles a little into your mouth, then lets go with a loud pop, and now he's lying on you. Arms stay around your waist, holding you in a warm embrace, breathing heavily and listening to you whimper as he pulls out of you. "You're insane."

You're caressing his face, taking the time to look him in the eyes, you don't get to do that very often, and pepper kisses on his jaw. "You are."

Satoru buries his face in your neck and his breathing slowly goes back to normal. "I love you." He mumbles tiredly, and your day turns into just another evening, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms. You wouldn't change it for the world.

"I love you too."

Author's note: six sevennnnnnnn🫴🏻🫴🏻

Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Short chapter, profanity, weekend, conversations sisters have, reader masturbates in the shower thinking about Higuruma because he's just so sexy. English is not my first language btw. Written in present tense.

Word count: 955

Weekends usually consisted of snacking on dried mangoes and bothering your sister, but now that you have a job, things look a little different. You're a big girl with big responsibilities; like revising these case files before Higuruma's hearing on Monday.

"How'd he react?" Koharu asks.

She's still on the events of yesterday since you refuse to elaborate. It's way too embarrassing for your own good and you want to forget it. "He didn't." You groan as you're flicking through through the documents.

"But like-" she lifts her gaze from her toes, which she's painting a velvety red for a date night, and squints. "What does that mean? Did he just stand there? Did he tell you off? What did he do?"

"Nothing!" You insist. "He literally did nothing! Didn't even say anything, that's why it's so embarrassing. And then the coffee incident happened too-" you groan. "God, I'm just a mess."

"Oh yeah." She rolls her eyes. "I'm telling you, if those bitches order you around like that again, I will fuck them up. Don't ever let them walk all over you like that."

"Yeah..." You sigh. "Got it."

She pauses briefly, then stretches her leg over the coffee table and a smirk grows on her face. "He's clearly not bothered by you, by the way." She laughs. "Had like three chances to fire you, but didn't."

"Because he's a good boss." You argue. "Not because he's not bothered. I can tell he finds me annoying."

Koharu rolls her eyes. "How? You don't even know him enough to assume that."

"Everyone finds me annoying." You say and earn a cushion to your head. "Hey!"

"I don't find you annoying." She tuts. "Okay, sometimes I do, but not in general."

A smile creeps up your face but you hide it from her. "No?"

"No." Her smile is shameless, much more comfortable in her older-sister ways. "I find things you do annoying, but I don't find you annoying."

You jut your chin at her. "Like what?"

"Like the fact that you stretched my favorite Lulu Lemon leggings out with your massive ass, that was pretty annoying."

You laugh. "I told you I'm gonna get you another one as soon as they restock!" Then point your pen at her. "Also, I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It is a compliment!" She laughs. "All of mom's ass genes went to you."

Pridefully, you bounce in your seat to show off your plump bottom. Though feel as though you must return the favor. "And you got all the boob genes!"

Koharu lets out a proud huff and cups her tits, lifts them slightly, like she's feeling if they're still big. "True."

They're a lot bigger than yours but you're not bothered.

Perhaps you understand what Koharu means when she says she doesn't find you annoying. You don't find her annoying either.

"Okay, let me work!" You say finally. "Need to finish this before Monday!"

"Alright, alright! I need to get ready for this date, anyways." And with that, she's gone into her room to freak out about which dress to wear, and she will inevitably bother you with it.

—

Sunday, you're scrambling to e-mail Shimizu the files and pray to god there are no mistakes or you'll hate yourself tomorrow.

Higuruma might scold you again.

Koharu is in her room, snoring away, her date night went well.

Your night was anticlimactic. Four cans of energy drinks and an entire pack of dried mangoes marinate in your stomach that you'll pay for on the toilet later. You stretch, clearing the table before hitting the shower.

Hot water feels volcanic on your skin and you're melting immediately.

The bruise from the EpiPen on the side of your thigh is healing but you don't want it to. Stop being a slut, you think. It's not a hickey, he will never leave a hickey on your skin. He was trying to save your life, you're being weird.

You trace the purplish blue contusion, barely touching like there's an infitiny between your finger and your skin. Though when you do press your thumb against it, you moan.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can not have this effect on you.

Alas, the image has already been painted in your mind. His long fingers are a fantasy, wrapped around your thighs with a strength you're not capable of guessing at the moment. You imagine it's gentle, definitely intentional.

He touches with precision, probably.

Your thumb digs into your skin and you wish it were his hands dipping between your legs. "Fuck..." A quiet whisper leaves your trembling little mouth. You're wet, both ways, and your eyes are shut tight. "Mister Higuruma, fuck."

It pours out of you. Desperate, pathetic, embarrassing. You don't listen to yourself as you push two fingers inside, pussy throbbing at the very thought of him. "Oh my god!" Water cascades down your face, you throw your head back and groan for release. "Fuck, mmmmmmh! Higu- Higuruma!"

You pump in and out, picking up the pace, your other fingers roll a nipple between them, sending a shockwave through your entire body. You add another finger, fuck yourself deeper. "Oh my g-god!"

The steam suffocates you, water on the hottest setting, scorching on your skin as if melting it off, but you don't care. You feel ecstatic, and before you know it, you're crying out one last moan.

There it is.

You're cumming all over your fingers and the credit's all his. Those hands, fingers, you haven't even gotten to his nose yet and you're already spasming against the tile walls. "Holy shit."

Yeah, holy shit.

It hits you like a ton of bricks, then. Higuruma Hiromi will be a problem.

Pairing: Older dilf!Fushiguro Toji x Younger neighbor fem!reader

Contents: p0rn without plot, Megumi's dad!Toji, grinding and dry humping, does not ask for permission (so kinda non-con, I guess), nasty cunnilingus, he's great with his tongue (duh!), ass eating, biting, pussy groping, pussy spanking, he loves to manhandle you, size kink, age-gap (reader is in early 20s, Toji is pushing 40), muscular body, he calls himself daddy, p in v, raw (don't be a dummy, wrap your gummy!), hella rough, makes you squirt, creampie but you're on birth control, massive cock obviously, dom x sub dynamic, he makes you cry, incredible arch, you're very flexible and he loves that, you got that wap, spanking in the general sense, lots of praise, he's very vocal, locking Megumi out of the apartment (no CPS required), slight choking, fingering, nipple sucking, he's mean but in a flirty way, he's also an animal, switching the positions (ariana what are you doing here?!), pet names used: baby, babygirl, babydoll, dollface, little girl, little baby, and sweetheart, he mocks you super hard, bully, lots of licking, he's obsessed with the way you smell, sniffing, he's gross and perverted, aftercare if you squint. English is not my first language. Written in present tense. (Proofread but only a little)

Word count: 6060

Nobody in Shibuya cares about your cookie(s).

Well, except for the hot dad next door. He seems to be particularly into the chocolate chip kind you make with browned butter, leaves not a single crumb when you bake extra for him and his teenage son.

Some habits stay the same when you come from a large family, so you're at their door again. Holding a batch of cookies because you made too much again.

Admittedly, you were a a little too eager to feed them and left in nothing but your silk nightgown hanging from your shoulders. The black fabric crisps at the crevices and the hem sits in the middle of your thighs.

The door opens just as you're twirling a strand of your hair around your finger, and you're forced to crane your head back to meet eyes with him.

Toji.

Standing at around 190cm, he fills the doorframe with his muscular build. A black shirt hugs him deliciously, save for his big arms which he's crossing like he's trying to kill you.

You can't help but drool at the veins snaking his forearms.

"Baked again, sweetheart?" The words butter your eardrums and sends a shockwave to your pussy. You have to squeeze your thighs just to stop it from throbbing.

The pet name could make you cum if you concentrated hard enough, but you can't because he's looking down at you with a satanic smile that makes the scar crease on the corner.

You nod. "Chocolate chip! Your favorite."

It's not until he invites you in, that you gulp deeply. He's always so domineering, steps aside but still only gives you a sliver of space to slide past accidentally brushes his hard abs against your shoulder.

"Gumi, we've got company." He calls out to the teenager on the couch, a controller in his hands and about seven empty cans of Coke on the floor he hums likes he has zero fucks to give about your weirdly shaped cookies.

From afar, Megumi looks just like his father, only his hair is more wild in comparison. He hums, then returns to killing innocent people in GTA. It's almost impossible to hear Toji chuckling over the loud volume of screams from the TV, but you hear it.

Of course you do, he's towering right over you. The manly scent of his cologne sticks to your nostrils like honey, and you inhale like a creep before you're pulling your thoughts together. "Try one!"

His eyes stay on you, a lopsided smirk on his suggestive face, as he reaches for a cookie and takes a big bite. Hums rumble in his throat almost immediately, if he was a slut, he would have been moaning.

You wonder if that's what he actually sounds like in bed, want to find out really bad. So bad, in fact, your pussy throbs again.

"You've got magic hands, baby." He hums with his mouth full, then washes it down with milk straight from the carton. "Delicious."

Heat creeps up your neck and settles in your cheeks. There's razzle-dazzle in your eyes, twinkling like the stars.

Old man -nearly 40- calling you baby. You could truly melt into a puddle and die. You bounce happily with your hands on the counter, and he watches with an intensity that only perpetuates the melting. "Is it the best cookie you've had?"

So fucking innocent, he thinks. Or not at all, and you're completely aware of the innuendo, which he prefers. His eyes skim down to your thighs, then just a little up to the part you're trying so heart to silence. She's purring. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and his eyes trail back up, "I don't know. Is it?" He whispers.

The wink he adds is the cherry on top.

If Megumi wasn't in the room, you would've bent over for him to take already. Though, it's almost like he reads your mind and digs his teeth into his lip, assessing your entire self with one look, before nearing his son by the couch. "Gumi, take this and go." He throws a 1,000 yen bill on the kid's lap.

"Bro, I'm literally gaming right now." Megumi sighs, digging his thumbs into the controller buttons, scorning through gritted teeth at the word Wasted written across the screen. "Fuck!"

"You little-" Toji groans back at him, then clears his throat. You're watching them bicker like they're best friends and not father and son. The dynamic seems cute. "Get the fuck out the house, you're cockblocking me right now." He whispers.

Megumi frowns. "Ew dad, what the fuck?!" A tut leaves his mouth. He looks down at the measly bill in his lap and fists it before getting up. "Shit, at least give me 5,000 so I can go to the movies with Yuji." He rolls his eyes. "Human Earthworm 4 just came out."

Toji can't stand the nonchalant look on his carbon copy's face, but he can't stand the strain in his sweats either, so he empties his pockets. "Here damn!" He throws the bills on the couch, which Megumi pockets immediately. "Fucking parasite, suckin' my wallet dry."

Megumi pays no mind to the complaints and slips his shoes on. He does not leave though, not without telling you: "You're genuinely cooked if you let him hit, by the way."

"And don't come back for at least two hours, little shit." Toji closes the door on him.

You're left to look up at him with a faint smile. "What'd he mean?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." Toji sighs. He's already circled the couch, approaches you enough to smell you. He fucking groans. There's a scent coming off of you, one that directly results in the erection of the bulge in his sweatpants. "He's a dumbass."

It's impossible to ignore. He's big.

Terrifyingly so, and he hasn't even whipped it out. Your head reaches up to the underside of his pecks, and his knuckles travel from your shoulder to your wrist. It's slow, like he's trying to kill you softly. Makes you shiver when he asks: "So, are you gonna let me taste your cookie?"

"But... You already did." You giggle. It barely comes out, the way he's breathing against your temple is deadly and your knees go weak because of it. His touch spurs your eyes to flutter shut, sucking cold air through a gasp, you tremble at the sound.

A chuckle, but it's deeper. If your heart wasn't palpitating so fast, you'd hear it in his chest. Like a storm, it blitzes you. "No, baby." Hand moving lower, it caresses your thigh and sneaks under your nightgown before finally seeking refuge between your legs. He palms your shit. "I'm talking about this cookie."

The gasp you let out is ecstatic and pairs dangerously with your chest heaving. It feels similar to a panic attack, only you're nymphomanically wet.

It coats his fingers through your panties, you feel him prodding your pussy like he owns it. "Goddamn. Fuckin' soaked, aren't you?"

Your hands fly to his flexed forearm and do absolutely nothing to stabilize you, so he steps him. Pulls you against him with his free hand and continues his assault between your plush thighs. He drags his fingers along your entire slit, smirking when you throb. Your clit pops out like a fucking water balloon. "T-Toji..."

"Shhhhh." He pushes you against the kitchen counter, flicks your clit to shut your nagging and make you moan instead. "There she is." He's groaning against your ear, leaned down, his large back flexing, "I know you like this, babygirl. Lemme get my fix."

Head thrown back, you whimper. It comes out in short breaths, his fingers circling your clit make you dizzy. You dig your fingers into his muscles. "Oh my... My god."

"Been thinking 'bout your pussy since you moved here." He confesses, not that it's needed. He's always looked at you like he wants to eat you. "Kept my expectations high, so let's see if they live up." He picks you up, effortlessly, like you don't weigh a thing, and places you on the counter. The cabinet above your head makes you lean back while he wraps both hands around your ankles and spreads your legs. "Fuck."

Your feet are perched on the edge and your clothed pussy is on display for him. He groans at it, wets his lips like a lion hunting an antelope. Your panties stick to your wetness, makes it see-through, shows him your pubes which seems to drive him crazy. A sweat bead rolls down the side of his sharp face, his brows are pulled together, and his hands move closer to your core. "Keep these legs open."

Squirming on his kitchen countertop, you feel as though you're being taken advantage of, and for some reason that turns you on. Makes you drip down the cabinets.

"Mmm, fuck. Look at that." He huffs against your pussy, the tip of his nose brushes your clit painfully. "Cunt just begging for me to put something in it, yeah?"

Desperation seeps from your pores when you nod. "Please."

"What d'you want? Huh?" His sly fingers hook inside your panties and pull it to the side. Your bare pussy aches for him, absolutely throbbing to the rhythm of his voice. "What should daddy put in this pretty little pussy, baby?"

"Anything pleaseeeeeeee- Toji please!"

His large hands engulf the back of your thighs, he pushes them up and back, spreading you apart in an obscene manner. The smirk turns conceited, borderline evil. He leans down and inhales. It's gross, he's disgusting, sniffing your pussy like it's cocaine. "Fuuuuckkk, lift your hips. Gotta eat it real good."

He rips your panties off your legs and shoves his face between your thighs in the same breath, immediately moaning into your wet core. His nose pushes past your folds, and his tongue fucks you shamelessly. You're the ice cream served with a hot cookie.

It gets you squirming, crying almost, and when you close your legs around his head, "Keep 'em open." He slams them back against the counter. "Not gonna tell you again." He mumbles through slurps, drinking your leaking cunt.

His fingers leave prints around your ankles that will soon turn into purple-ish blue contusions. He licks you from your asshole, all the way up to your clit. "Mmm, fuck. Taste so fuckin' good." He presses his lips around your clit and sucks the life out of you, gulping deeper with his fingers spreading your folds apart. "Delicious." He mumbles, cusses under his breath.

Jaw flexing intensely, he breathes on it, makes out with it. "Fffuck-" you tremble, toes curling in agony. "Toji!"

"Just like that, lemme do my work." He groans and pushes two fingers into you, scissors them inside to send you into a frenzy. You're seeing stars, and you're not sure but you think this is what a trip must feel like. "Yeah, you like my fingers inside you? Like when I fuck you like this?"

It's inevitable. He's a grown man with a high sex drive, fingering a little slut on his countertop, his teasing nature surfaces like it's clockwork. He straightens himself briefly, holding one leg while his other hand works to drive you to your climax, eyes on your flushed face. "Fucking hell, look at the way you're dying right now. All 'cause of my fingers. How're you gonna handle my cock, baby?"

"I'm gonna cum!" You ignore the mockery and spasm with every curl of his fingers. It's satanic, the way he adds another finger and pumps them in and out of you. Loud squelching almost makes you feel shame. Almost. You're coming apart in ways you didn't know were possible. "Please, gonna- gonna cum!"

He tuts, chuckles softly. His fingers dig into your thigh, the others keep thrusting in and out of your pussy at the speed of light. His muscles flex unbearably strong. His lips purse sardonically. "Already? Weak little girl."

You're nodding like a pathetic little girl, legs burning, and you feel it coming. It shoots through your body like a shockwave and hits you right where his fingers are annihilating you.

"Come on." He tells you. There's nothing soft about it, he's moaning like a man starved. "Cum on my fingers babygirl, do it."

Your entire body quivers and you're a moaning mess as you cum all over his hand, and the cabinets. Fluid drips everywhere, and the only thing holding you are his hands on your thighs. "Tojiii!"

"Mhm, atta girl. Keep it comin'." He encourages with a deep, delicious voice. "Fuck, you look so good. Goddamn." He's hissing against your pussy, then slurps your cum. He gulps it down like he's drinking a cocktail on the beach. Groaning, lapping over your entire slit. "Sweet lil' thing, fuck."

You whine, reaching out to dig your nails into his broad shoulders. His muscles are actively flexing underneath them as he drags you off the counter, hands on your ass. "Gonna do that all over again, yeah?"

"I can't-" you whimper but he knocks the wind out of you when he drops you onto the couch and kicks the controller to the floor.

He hovers over you, hands sneaking under your nightgown. "You will. I'm just starting, babydoll." He lifts the fabric all the way up to your tits, keeps it above them, grits his teeth when he finds your nipples perky and pink. "Fucking hell, you look like a real doll, baby."

You whine. His large hands squeeze your tits together, pushing your nipples together, he flicks them both with his tongue. Just once, but it's enough to absolutely destroy you. "Oh my god!"

"They're so perfect, holy shit." He straddles you, kneads your tits and jiggles them just to watch. "Got me so fuckin' hard, shit. Gonna fuck you so good you're gonna forget your name."

"Yes! Please, Toji! Please fuck me!" You beg. Literally beg. It's pathetic, embarrassing even, but you don't care. You let him push you into the couch, pull your legs apart and nestle himself between them.

He tuts, squeezes your tits again and sucks them both at the same time. "Mhm, 'm gonna, but I wanna take my time with you. Gonna get you all sorts of fucked up first, yeah?"

"Toji!" You whine, a complaint from your puckered lips, which he shuts by crashing his against them.

He moans into your mouth, one hand stays squeezing your tit while the other wraps around your throat. His thumb presses against your windpipe, it's gentle. "Tsk tsk, you're gonna shut this mouth-" he pulls your bottom lips between hi teeth then lets go, kissing you sloppily. "And let me do what I gotta do, got it baby?"

Without waiting for a sliver of permission, he grinds his hard bulge against your bare pussy. He's throbbing like you've never felt a man throb before. Grunting in your neck, lips all over your sweaty skin, he goes back to kneading your tits with one hand. He seems to be entranced by them. "Want you inside me. Wanna make you cum." You whimper.

Chuckles erupt from his throat, deep and raspy. "Trust me baby, I wouldn't let you go without shoving my cock deep inside this little pussy." His other hand moves down and cups your pussy, stroking up and down, then left and right to splatter your juices everywhere. "Just need you to cum again f'me."

You whine again and that's what drives him over the edge. He lands a smack right on your pussy with incredible force. You gasp, don't even see it coming for the second time but his biceps flex and you feel the sting through your entire body. "Stop being a fucking cry baby." He grits through clenched teeth and spanks it one more time just for good measure. "Be good and I'll give you what we both want."

"O-okay." Your whimpers butter his eardrums.

His dark hair falls on his forehead, temples dripping with sweat, you watch him straighten and pull his shirt up by the nape of his neck. He's been so animalistic, you didn't even realize he was still fully clothed.

His hard chest and broad shoulders take you for a swoon that ends with your nails in his muscles. "Come on baby, let's make you cum." He shoves two fingers inside you again. Knuckle-deep, pumps deliciously. "Grind up against my hand, don't make me do all the work sweetheart."

Your hips rolls to the rhythm of his hand, slow and steady at first, then it turns ruthless. He stabs your cunt over and over until you're getting it. Until you empty out on his calloused hands. You're spasming, out of your mind, trembling.

"There she is." He hums. His nostrils flare and he's looking down at you in admiration. "Good fucking girl, that's it."

You coat his fingers, pussy throbbing around them continuously curling inside you. "Oh my fucking god, Toji!"

"Mhm. Yeah baby, give daddy all your cum." He's already leaning down, preparing to drink you once again. His tongue laps at his fingers first, tasting you desperately, before it licks up your pussy again. "So good." He prods at your core and picks up some of your fluid, bringing is fingers to your lips. "You ever tasted yourself before?"

You whimper, shake your head no.

"Open. Taste it." He groans at the sight of your plump lips closing around the tips of his slender fingers. "Yeah, suck on 'em. Good little baby, just like that. Delicious, isn't it?"

Thick cum travels down your throat and you have no choice but to nod like a pathetic slut. "Please." You whimper finally. It comes out in short, heavy breaths. Reaching out to him, you wrap your legs around him. "Please, fuck me. Please Toji!"

He rolls his hips once, a smirk growing on his face. The scar slashing through the corner of his mouth creases deeply. "Poor girl. Came twice and it's still not enough for you?"

His palms sink into the cushion of the couch on either side of your head, trapping you under his large body. He rolls them again, the friction of his bulging sweats against your bare pussy as you gasping for air, mouth agape, eyes shut tight. "Mhm, please!"

"Mmmm, so desperate for a cock that's too big for you." He's groaning with his hand in his boxers, stroking himself a little while his other hand holds one of your legs up, nestled in your kneepit. "Gonna fuck you stupid, baby."

"Yeah!" You whine, grinding up against him.

He hums, lowers himself even more. "Yeah. Take my cock out, lemme see those hands on it." He points. His large one is replaced by your smaller ones dipping into his briefs.

He throws your leg over the back of the couch, and pushes the other one down against your chest. Your nightgown nearly drapes off your neck but you don't care about anything. Too busy whipping his dick out, watching the red tip throb with pre-cum.

It's just the tip... And it's huge.

He chuckles at the way your eyes widen. "Something wrong, dollface?" Though a moan rumbles in his chest. Your fingers barely wrap around his shaft and his head falls back.

You watch the way he Adam's apple bobs up and down, a loud gulp squelches in his throat. He quickly lowers his sweat and settles himself against your wet pussy.

His cock is thick, girthy, nearly as long as your upper leg, you worry how it'll fit, and he reads it in your eyes. "Got those big ass eyes, hah, it's what you wanted, sweetheart. You're gonna get it."

You try to squirm away, no words rolling off your tongue, but he pulls you back by your hips. "Nuh-uh-uh-uh. Back over here baby, you're gonna take this cock like a good little girl."

He pumps once, grunts, cusses under his breath. His jaw flexes angrily. Then lines his tip at your entrance, drags it up and down, makes both of you throb. You don't even care about the lack of protection, the dick is surely worth it.

"Fuck, I been thinking about this for way too long." He whispers lowly, rasp lacing his deep voice.

You're a whimpering mess, all wet and messy, grinding against his thick tip. "Yeah?" Your brows are pulled together as if it's a fucking question.

He laughs, finds it ridiculous that you're asking. "Cute little babe livin' all alone? Beat my shit to you in all positions." He pushes softly. It makes you dizzy. The very tip of his cock stretches your flesh like you're being tortured.

It has you fearing for the rest of him.

"Gonna take it slow, yeah?"

You hum, hands grabbing whatever muscle they can. "Mhm! Fuck!"

He smirks. Likes how you're being vulgar, always knew the most innocent looking ones turn out to be the freakiest.

Shortly, he thrusts, it has the two of you gasping loudly. "Fuck! So fuckin' tight 'n I'm not even in yet. Shit."

"Toji-" your chin wobbles. You feel the sting already. "Oh my god!"

Another brief push makes you arch your back under him. Hot breaths fill the room, and the lewd noises you're making make his balls incredibly hard. "Shhh, keep that mouth shut, baby. 'M trying to focus."

He rolls his hips, fully forcing his tip inside your pussy. Your skin feels like it's tearing, sitting tight around his leaking tip, and yet, the rest of his cock feels cold. He wants to ram himself in so badly, wants to ignore your cries and fuck you through the pain, but he's better than that. Knows not to scare off a cute little thing like yourself. "Oh my god, it hurts!"

"I know, baby. I know." He shushes you with a generous kiss against your lips. His tongue flattens yours, drool dripping down your cheek. "Gonna be alright. It's gonna feel good in a sec."

You moan back into his mouth, feel the tears stinging your eyes. His hands leave marks on your waist, pulling it up to arch your back even deeper. "Mhm, keep it just like that. Atta girl."

Then he starts pushing again. He's stretching you and flexing his hips, groaning like a lion, he's leaving dents in your hips. "Takin' me really well, baby. Good job." He has you blabbering, reduced to a crying mess. "Little more."

He's a liar. There's still so much of his cock left.

You're hidden under his unabridged, massive body, grappling at his chest, neck, shoulders, biceps. Those huge huge huge biceps. It makes you salivate like the other three million things he's making you feel. He's a trip. A line of cocaine. You're on the clouds when he pushes too quick, too hard. Half of his shaft gets trapped in your pussy. You clench around him and he fucking moans.

"Holy shit, baby." He's trembling. "Holy shit." Then he continues. Pushes in more and more, aches your entire body, lets you scream it out. "Almost there. Mmm, fuck. So fuckin' tight, you gotta be joking with me." He lowers his body, lips on your neck, pressing you into the couch as his balls finally hit your ass.

"Oh my god! Toji!"

Humid air settles around you both, thick and smelling of sweat, he stays inside you for a bit. Every little adjustment sends a stinging wave right to his cock, makes it twitch inside you. You're moist and warm, a perfect glove for him. "Goddamn, you're so fucking tight. Holy shit, my cock's twitching so hard baby, you feel that shit?"

You're whining, nodding, pouting. An absolute mess, you're crying. "Feel it." You manage to utter, it's barely coherent.

He laughs at you, mocks you. His hands find their place on the couch again, either side of your head, he rolls his hips once, making both of you groan. He's scorning through his teeth as if he's angry at the way you feel so good. He rolls them again, you feel the tip of his cock hitting your posterior fornix right behind your cervix and your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

You're drooling, drunk on his dick. "Mmmmmm, feels s'good!!!"

"Mmmmm-" he hums longly, thrusting in and out of you at an average pace because he's way too focused on your state, laughing in your face like he hates you. He wants to fuck you like it to. His spine straightens and he's digging his fingers into your hips before slamming into you. "Yeah baby?"

You cry out lewd moans, head craned back, arching off the couch. "Yeah! Fuck! So good Tojiiiiii!"

Skin slapping fills the room, it echoes off the walls and the sound of your cries is like music to his ears. He's sweating like a waterfall, cussing under his breath. You feel too good to speak. His face says it all, brows pulled tight, teeth clenching. He bucks his hips and pulls you over his thighs, ramming into you ruthlessly.

Doesn't care about your cries.

"Fuck, c'mere." Without warning, he pulls out and throws you over the back of the couch, pulls your ass up and slams his cock inside your pussy. "Mmmm, fuck! Arch your back f'me, baby."

You pull your nightgown off of your shoulders completely and hold onto the couch, cheek pressed against it. "I'm gonna cum!"

He spanks your ass, watches it jiggle with his hips slamming against it. "Cum as much as you want, daddy's got you."

It's the way you're groaning into the couch that makes him tremble. He bucks against you, purposefully holds himself from shooting a child in your pussy, but the clench around him makes him groan. You're squirting, leaking all over his crotch and abdomen. "Goddamn, baby. Cummin' so hard for me."

"Tojiiiii...." You whine but he doesn't care. Fucks you through your orgasm, makes you climax feel lackluster as he picks up the pace. You don't even get the time to catch your breath because he wrings your body until your left leg is completely vertical against his upper body, straightened against the side of his face.

He's twisting you like a fucking contortionist.

The angle pulls him deeper and you flex your muscles around him. "Holy fucking shit! That feel good, baby?" His voice cracks, chuckles pouring out. He's hysterical. "Pussy's swallowing my cock, fucking hell! So hungry f'me!"

Your fluids mix with both of your sweat and soak into the fabric of the couch. Toji doesn't care, fucks you deeper. He leans down and pushes your leg closer to your face, you're twisting like a contortionist, finger gripping the cushion for dear life. "My- my god!"

"Let it out, dollface. Sound so fuckin' delicious. Lemme hear you scream." He grunts, it comes out like a demand. The thrusting of his hips don't slow down, in fact, he slams like you're a doll. Like he's not actively breaking you. It prompts the nastiest moans out of you. It's erotic, the way you're sobbing.

He's twitching, angry, completely undone. One hand gropes your tit, rolls your nipple between his fingers, squeezes it like it's a stress ball while he picks up the pace. You spine bends over the back of the couch, and he pulls your other leg up too.

Ankles secured in one large hand, he pushes your knees to your face and fucks his cock up into you, bruising your cervix. "Fuck- hah!" A cynical hiss falls from his lips. "Takin' me like a champ, baby. I could fuck you all day long."

"I'm gonna die." You whimper. There's not a thought in your mind, it's all spiderwebs. You're so cock-drunk, it's embarrassing.

He spanks your ass, laughs, circles your clit with his fingers, and bucks his hips up until you're basically hanging off the couch. "No dying." He pulls you back down, forces your legs around his waist instead. His lips are hovering over your trembling ones. "No dying until I'm done with this pussy."

"Need to cum!" You cry, he scoffs sardonically. "Please, I need to cum again!" It's almost like he's trying to shut your mouth with the way he slows down and pulls his cock fully out of you before slamming it so hard back into you, you start seeing stars.

They're floating all around you.

A sob cracks in your throat, he's surely bruised your cervix. "Jesus christ, baby. You like my cock that bad? Cummin' like a fucking pornstar. Shit." He thrusts right into you, skin slapping, balls hitting your asshole, his movements are sloppier, and his cock his harder than before. You can feel him throb, reach his climax. "Wanna cum with me, babydoll?"

"Yeah!" You whine, pout like a baby. Tears are glazing your eyes and sweat your skin, nipples pebbled in his face and he can't help but suck on one of them like he's waiting for milk. "Please, wanna cum!"

He coos, mocks the way you're crying, then laughs. "Mhm, yeah you do. Daddy's gonna give it to ya, baby. Want me to cum on you?"

"Mmmm..." You're begging him, nodding, nails scratching his shoulders. "Inside me, please! Please cum inside me, fuck! I need it so bad!"

He picks up the pace and slams you flat against the couch, spreading you like an eagle. "Naughty girl. You want me to fill this cunt? Not scared of havin' my babies in you?"

"On birth- birth control." You moan out through breathy sobs, whine. "Please! Please please please! I need it so bad!"

"Jesus fucking christ." He's watching you in awe, brows furrowed. He's never had a woman beg for him cum like this before, let alone a hot little babe with a pussy so wet. He's making you drip all over the floors, soaking the couch in your fluids, and yet all he can manage to utter is: "I'ma fill you up real good, baby. Make sure this pussy's completely full."

His forehead rests against yours as the two of your chase your highs. You're spasming under him and he's shuddering as his cum shoots through your squelching lips, filling you warm cunt with thick fluid. It's hot, like it's burning you from the inside out.

You hear his groans inside your fucking ear, lips against the shell of it, he thrusts all of it in, cussing out a throaty "Fuck!" And rolling his hips one last time before he collapses on top of you.

Heart palpitations are heard throughout your bodies. His chest heaves against yours and pushes you further into the cushions. His cock continues to throb every now and then, and each time it makes him tremble. The way you clench around him, the way you're whimpering sensitively under him, your nails scratching his broad back, he's in heaven. Toji's never felt so high before.

"Fuck." He repeats. A sudden cold wind blows over your tits and you realize he's lifting himself off of you, backing up and sitting on his heels instead. His hands are already on your thighs and before you can question his intentions, he's pulling you to his face and slurping your pussy again.

You hiss, trying to push away. "Toji-"

"Shhh." He spanks your sensitive core, makes your clit throb painfully. His face his all up in your cunt, slick glazing his cheeks and nose, dripping down his chin. His tongue laps at you, it's perverted how much he's moaning. Hot breath makes you shudder as his mouth opens and closes around you lips, dipping in and out of your hole. He's incredible with it, professional even. "You cum so good, baby."

Your nails scratch the fabric of the couch, fingers don't work very well anymore. Your bones have turned to jelly, he's eating you to death. "Oh my goh-god! Fffffuck!"

Leaning down where he lowers your pussy on the couch, he licks up your slit one last time before he flips you around. You're on your knees, he pushes your head down, tells you to "Stay down." Your spine involuntarily dips into an arch and he forces your thighs apart. "Daddy's gonna eat it baby. Daddy's gonna eat it."

"To-"

Your words are cut in half with his tongue licking the rim of your asshole. The tight muscle spasms like a vortex and he's spreading your cheeks to get in deeper. His nose sits between your crease, tongue licking your asshole just as intensely as it did your pussy.

He has an insatiable craving for every part of you, as if he's been going through withdrawals. You wonder when the last time he fucked someone was. Wonder if he ate their ass too.

Mumbling inaudible bullshit into your hole, he swirls his tongue around inside the tight muscles. Cusses under his breath, hisses angrily. Then he's licking his lips like he's finished eating a delicious meal, spanks your ass again, can't get enough of the way it moves. He punches one cheek and jiggles it, "Goddamn." He's watching intently, eyes burning into you. "So fuckin' perfect." Is the last thing he says before diving again, tongue first into your asshole.

It shoots another wave of shock to your pussy, which he grabs with one hand. His fingers push past your folds without shame, like he's been there, done that. He's fingering you again, tongue assaulting your anus. You're convulsing, shaking on your knees.

"Fuck, Toji! What the fuck?!" You're wailing into the cushion, trembling as you cum once again. It's a lot calmer this time, he's milking the very last of you. Cum drips down your thighs and you clench around his fingers, making him hum in approval.

He pulls them out and spreads your cum over your asshole, licks it up like a thirsty dog lapping up water. "Fuck-" he grunts in between slurps. "You're so-" another grunt. "Fucking delicious."

He sucks on the muscle, drinks whatever fluids have pooled in the rim, and kisses it with a wet pop. His hand lands on your cheek one last time and makes it sting for good measure, before he pulls you up and wraps a hand around your neck.

Your small back presses against his heaving chest, and the only thing holding your body is the fingers that are pressing into your windpipe. His teeth graze your earlobe, "Fucking hell baby, you're so fucking perfect."

Melting back into him, your body shudders occasionally. His big arms snake around you then, and he leans into the couch.

You're both panting, filling the room with thick, humid air. "So fucking perfect." He repeats behind you, makes you sit next to him, gets you comfortable by throwing your legs over his lap.

His cock is semi-hard, he could go for another round, but the fatigued look on your face makes him change his mind. He chuckles, slaps your thighs lightly. "Think I was a lil' too rough on ya."

You're force out a giggle, but it only reminds you of how sore your body is. Even breathing seems tiring. "I liked it." You admit.

A brow raises and he's smirking. "Oh yeah?" You watch the way his bicep flexes when he reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table next to him. Plucks one and sets it between his lips, close to the scar. He lights it and takes a long puff before holding it out for you. His eyes are glued on your face, lips blowing out smoke. "Maybe we could do this again, some day."

"Maybe." You reach for the cigarette, take a hesitant puff and cough immediately. You're gasping for air while he laughs.

"If you're not a smoker, just say so baby."

You hit your chest, catching your breath.

Silence falls over the two of you, chests settle calmly, the air simmers into a nice breeze in and out of the window.

Then you're admitting anything and everything on your mind, thought-dumping after good sex. "I really like you."

He wets his lips, looks you up and down. "Hm?" But he doesn't wait for you to repeat it. Doesn't need to. He smirks, gives the side of your thigh a little pinch. "Maybe I like you a little too."

Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Explicit language, reader is annoyingly stupid, grief, inappropriate workplace flirting, reader is obsessed with Higuruma (me too twin), a little workplace bullying but nothing crazy, you get the gist, Nanami is still #out of character, get over it. Written in present tense.

Word count: 3516

Ding!

The elevator doors open and the first thing you're met with is a cult-like grin on everybody's face and a collective chant: "Welcome back!"

You're taken aback when you step towards them and your arms are flooded with bouquets. "I was only gone for a day and a half!" You smile and squeeze past them. "Thanks everyone!"

Do they even like me enough to do all this? You think.

Most of the interns don't bat an eye, they're turned to their computer screens like you don't even exist. You've still not grown on them, and you probably never will.

Not as long as Nanami keeps practically begging for the tiniest reaction out of you. Today, it's with a small pastry box again.

"Nanami's treat!" Kobayashi explains. "Don't worry, it's nut and mint free this time! He's gone above and beyond for you."

It gets you sniffling. The office is a whiplash for sure, and everything moves at the speed of light. You're not sure why Nanami's been acting like you've known him for years, but you're not complaining if the prize is chocolate cake.

You're grinning down on the delicious treat, salivating at the thought of stuffing your face with the moist goodness. You save it for lunch and turn to her excitedly. "Is he in his office? I wanna thank him."

"He won't be in until ten." Kobayashi shrugs and takes her seat.

Everybody's dissolved into theirs already, you're standing around contemplating. There's someone else you need to thank before, anyways.

In front of the oak door, you wish you bought him a small gift, but then he tells you to come in with that voice and you forget about it all again. Jesus L/n, pull yourself together.

"May I?" You peep in and he nods. "I just came here to thank you."

"What for?" Higuruma doesn't look at you. His slender fingers are dancing on the keyboard with ease, the tapping is satisfying but something else catches your attention. Or better yet, the lack of it.

The diffuser that nearly killed you is no longer where it used to be. It's just lime and fresh laundry in his office now, and the occasional summer breeze coming in through the open window.

"Uhm... For saving my life?" You giggle. "For taking me to the hospital and all that stuff. Thank you."

"It's my responsibility to make sure my employees are safe and not dying."

You're not sure if it's s joke or if that's just him, but you chuckle either way.

His fingers then stop, and he's looking at you carefully, like he's concerned you'll collapse again. He perches his elbows on the desk, chin on his hands. "Do you feel any better? You can stay home longer if not."

"Thank you." you smile and it's polite in an annoyingly professional way. "But I'm feeling better."

He nods, actually listens. "If you do end up feeling off, just let Shimizu know."

"Will do." You say. He's back to his computer, does that little there where he doesn't talk and expects you to know exactly what he wants from you, a.k.a leaving his office.

But you don't. You're squirming in front of him and he does not care, until you open your mouth because of course you do. "Why am I not fired?"

He lets out a huff, eyes still on the computer screen. "Do you want to be?"

"No!" Your hands fly up in protest. "God no, I just-" you sigh. "I thought you were firing me before I, y'know, started suffocating on the floor?"

"I was." He admits, not that the admission is needed. He says whatever he thinks without any filters, no matter who he's talking to. You've learned that much in the four and a half days you've known him. He takes a breath and leans back, relieved to take a little break from work already. His fingers tap on his desk with a soft rhythm. "I did tell you that was your last warning..."

You hum. "So, why didn't you?"

He looks at you.

Looks at you.

Like he's never seen you before until right now. His car crash eyes move down to the cute top you have on, it's the third butter yellow one you've worn. They move lower, your jeans are basic, makes up for the god awful shoes you have on. At least in his opinion.

Split toe tabis.

Some love them, some loathe them. Obviously, you fall into the former category.

He looks back into your eyes, sighs, wets his lips. "The reason you went into anaphylaxis is my diffuser, and even though you should've informed all of us about your allergies, it is still my fault."

You want to protest, but he doesn't let you.

"So take it as an apology." He says. "I'm not firing you, but you can't use this as leverage."

You pretend to sulk for a stupid joke: "You're telling me I can't collapse to prevent you from firing me anymore?"

His smile is incredibly faint, but you see it. "I would prefer it if you just did what everyone else does, yes."

A beam stretches your lips from ear to ear and you nog eagerly. "Of course! I promise I won't mess up again!"

"Good."

"Oh! By the way-" you raise a finger. "The nurse told me you used my EpiPen on me...?"

"I did." He says like it's casual.

You noticed the little bruise on your left thigh in the shower yesterday, a tiny mark left from him. Like a hickey but also not at all, Jesus fucking Christ why would you think that way?

It makes you feel a thing you're ashamed of. There's nothing inherently sexy about it. He's a human being and so are you. He just did what he was supposed to, but you can't help it.

The feeling rushes through your veins and ends in a place you're currently squeezing with your thighs. You hope he doesn't notice, and begin: "How did you-"

"Saw it when you dropped your bag and messed my shoe up." He says immediately.

The first day, fuck.

You're sure he will keep reminding you.

"Thank you, again."

He nods. "You can get back to work now."

You near the door, hand on the handle, but then he stops you. "Oh, L/n." Your name sounds like butter from his lips. You turn to find him opening a drawer to fetch something before approaching you slowly. He towers over you, not in an intimidating way, leaves enough space to just extend his arm out. "Almost forgot. You dropped this yesterday."

A bumblebee sits between his fingers.

You gasp. "Oh my god!" Eyes wide, mouth ajar. "Oh my god, no way!" It's like you're buffering, shaky fingers taking it out of his hands. "My brooch! I've looked for this all day yesterday! Thank you!"

You're a stupid little bitch.

It was completely unnecessary to hug him and yet you still did. Your arms snaked around his broad shoulders, all your weight on your tippy-toes, you beamed. "Thank you so much!"

His suit smells like he wore it straight from the clothesline.

He stands like a tree trunk, hands on either side of him. He's not going to hug you back, of course not. Which is the very thing that makes you pull back. The lack of response.

You're quick in the way you retreat, gasping again. "I'm so sorry, I did not mean to do that." Your laugh is awkward. "I just, I got a little excited."

He clears his throat. It's the first time you see him not so irrevocably composed. "S'fine." He hums and you see it in his eyes. "Get back to work." He's perplexed. In what world would a brooch ilicit that reaction?

Well, in your world.

You're out of his office, a smile on your face because you've got your brooch back, and a heaving chest because you just fucking hugged your fucking boss you stupid fucking girl.

—

There are no tasks for you today. No files to organize, no timelines to lose your mind over. Just you and your thoughts, accompanied by the occasional city sounds. It sings for you particularly loud today, birds chirping, cars honking below. You pass the time by counting the tall buildings lined neatly.

Everything is so urban, you think.

Not even lunch time and you're yawning. You're dreading the rest of the day, it's going to consist of replying to emails and staring at a wall for hours on end.

At least you have your brooch back. It's in your bag, tucked neatly in the zipper compartment because you can't afford losing it again. You're going to follow in the footsteps of your sister and hide it away in your closet, never to be worn again.

You've already sent her a picture of it with a message attached: 'Look what I found!!!!!!' And another message saying: 'I mean, Mister Higuruma found it, but still!!! Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!"

She hasn't responded yet.

"There she is!" Nanami startles you in your seat. Big biceps popping when he spins your chair and forces you to look up at him. "The office was very dull without you."

He says things so casually sometimes, it baffles you.

Especially considering you're not really bringing anything positive to the table right now. Everyone else is working while you're getting paid to sit and slouch around.

You smile. "That's very nice to say!" Humble, he likes the way you handle compliments. Just wish you could maybe take them like the others. The women here would sell both their kidneys for nice words from his lips. He wants you to go crazy over him but you disappoint him when you say: "Thank you for the chocolate cake."

That's all.

Professional, basic, simple.

He doesn't understand why you just don't drool.

"Welcome." He clears his throat and leans against your desk. "Made sure to be considerate of your allergies since, y'know, Higuruma couldn't."

It's a joke, or at least you hope it is, but you dismiss it. "He didn't know." Your hands go up in protest. "Don't think he'd be out to get me like that."

Nanami laughs with his head thrown back. His blond hair falls slightly, it's combed back into place with his fingers though. He pauses, then sighs. "Told you I'd show you the beehive, I did. Also told you I'd show you the bakery, I couldn't-" he presses his lips together and tsks. "But at least you finally had their chocolate cake."

"Oh, I didn't eat it yet!" You tell him. "Saving it for lunch, so I'll let you know what I think of it after, but thank you so much! So kind of you to get me a slice."

Kind.

Not really what he's aiming for but he'll take it.

"'Course, it's my pleasure." He flashes a grin and pushes himself off your desk. "Excited to see how you'll rate it."

"I'm supposed to rate it?" You chuckle.

He chuckles back. Finally, he thinks, you two are reaching a steady flow... Hopefully. "Yeah you are. Anything lower than a seven is an automatic no, just so you're aware."

"I'll keep that in mind." Your eyes crease when you giggle. "But I'm a chocolate cake enthusiast so you do not have to worry about a low rating."

"Good to know." He nods, fixes his tie. "See you at lunch, then?"

"See ya!"

—

You're getting ready to stuff your face like you promised yourself. Plastic fork in hand, pastry box is opened and that slutty little chocolate cake is tempting you like a stripper on a pole. Your mouth waters.

Though your fork stays stabbed in the cake when two interns approach your desk. "That the cake Nanami got you?"

You hum up at them, an idiotic grin on your idiotic face. "Yes! Doesn't it look insane?"

They roll their eyes. "It's unfair." One of them says, fingers twirling her long black hair. "He didn't get us any."

"Right." The other one pouts. "Think you need to make it right and get us coffee."

If Kobayashi wasn't out running errands she would have stepped in, but you're you, and you don't see anything wrong. "Oh?" You abandon the cake and get out of your seat. "I can do that!"

They smile at each other, reminding you of the mean girls back in highschool. To shake the feeling off, you throw your bag over your shoulder. "What do you want?"

Somehow you end up with a list of orders for the entire office. It's only fair, you think. Everyone deserves sweet treat.

The coffee shop down the street is a little busy, but you think you'll make it back before lunch is over. Your palms lay flat against the counter as you dizzy the barista with list in your notes app. "Yeah, and three americanos, please! Grande."

"That all?" He asks tired, jabbing the screen with his finger. The bags under his eyes are almost as deep as Higuruma's.

Speak of the angel.

Out of your peripheral, you notice him walk in with Shimizu. "L/n?" She chirps and approaches you.

So does Higuruma, but he's not as keen to see you.

"Shimizu?" You then glance at the taller, sexier one. God, why must you think about him like that? "Mister Higuruma?"

"What're you doing here?" She asks.

The overwhelming scent of coffee lingers in your nose and it almost makes it harder for you to take your eyes off of him. You're way too focused because he's way too hot.

You can't believe you're already this feral for him, you're not sure why. He's not exactly giving you any reason... Maybe that's why.

He waits for an answer, hands finding his pockets.

"Getting coffee for the office!" You smile.

Shimizu frowns, looks up at Higuruma -whos frowning just as deeply-, then back at you. "... Why?"

"They asked me!" You find nothing wrong with your statement and turn to the barista who calls your name, drinks prepared in front of you. Of course you struggle to carry them, what did you think would happen.

Higuruma doesn't say anything, moves your hands from two of the trays and carries them himself despite your protests. He doesn't even order himself a coffee and he's out the door, brows snapped together.

Shimizu holds one too, leaving you to carry the last tray back to the office. She tells you off the entire way there, while Higuruma doesn't spare you a single glance. You notice the way his jaw clenches and relaxes. There's something dark in his eyes.

In the office, "She's such an idiot-" the interns laugh but when they see the three of you, they're not laughing so much anymore. They're in their feet, clearing their throats. "Mister Higuruma?" They gasp.

He sets the tray down on one of the desks, watches them. Not a word is uttered until you hand them the tray. They don't take it from you, too busy melting in shame under Higuruma's glare.

"I want to make it very clear that all of you are under an internship program, and none of you are obligated to run each other's errands. If you want coffee, get it yourself." His voice feels like ice and salt on skin. "This is not a hierarchy, you don't work for one another. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Mister Higuruma." They answer collectively.

Their eyes and glued to the floor when he turns to leave, but not before gunning you one last glance.

"Who do you guys think you are?" Shimizu crosses her arms and scolds the other. She just her chin at you, "This girl isn't your slave. If you want coffee that bad, hire staff." She says.

It's essentially a repetition of everything Higuruma said, only a lot harsher. She knows that sometimes Higuruma's gentle nature can be taken lightly, especially if you're new.

"We get it." One of them says, filled to the brim with attitude now that Higuruma was gone. "Not like we forced her or anything. We just asked and she said yes."

Shimizu turns to you with a glare.

You press your lips together, guilty. "Wanted to do something nice."

"Your job is to work." She scolds. "And this goes for everyone. I trust this won't happen again or I will have to take it to HR."

She sighs and while leaving: "Great! Now I'm pissed and I have no coffee..." She complains.

They ignore the coffee you bought them with your own money, circling you like vultures instead. "Why would you tell them?"

"I didn't...?" You cock a brow. "They just saw me at the coffee shop and helped me carry them."

"So you just snitched?" The long-haired bitch snaps.

You're pushed against one of the panels seperating the office cubicles, softly, nothing to worry about, but it does intimidate you. "I didn't snitch!" You insist. "How old are we? Five?"

She is pulled back, then. Nanami's eyes glare into hers with vengeance. "What's going on?"

They're an immediately puddle of flesh when they hear his voice. It's as if he's put a spell on them. Melting, turning dumb when he speaks to them, even in that authorative tone.

"Nothing!" You assure. "I got everyone coffee!"

He notices the drinks, turning back to the interns, jaw ticking. "Get back to work, all of you."

Obedience comes with admiration, apparently. They dissolve to their seats until it's just you and him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah! All good!" You lie.

There's an uncomfortable weight on your stomach. It does not feel good at all, reminds you of how you felt in highschool again. The countless meals you had in a toilet stall, raunchy notes stuck to your back, being ranked the least pretty out of all the girls in your class. The feeling in your stomach is an amalgamation of all of those.

You shake the feeling off and smile instead. It's what you do best.

"Sure?" He asks. "It looked like they were almost cornering you."

"No, it's fine." You insist. "Everything's fine!" And to distract him, you point at the open box on your desk. "I was just about to eat the cake you got me!"

He chuckles, following you with ease. "Let's see if you'll like it."

You feel the eyes of the other interns burn holes in the back of your head, but you ignore the feeling. You have to.

You bring the fork to your mouth and your eyes widen immediately. The sponge is moist, rich, and the frosting is buttery. It's a -nearly- perfect chocolate cake.

"Mmmm!" You hum in delight.

He watches you with intent, arms crossed. "And? What's the verdict?"

"Incredible!" You hum again. "That's a solid nine out of ten!"

"A nine?" He chuckles. "Why'd you dock a point?"

There's something missing, and you know exactly what it is, you just don't want to think about it. "It's not perfect." You say simply.

"Why's that?" He leans in.

It feels intimate. It is intimate. He looks into your eyes like you're in the middle of a much more private activity.

You shrug. "It's just not."

Goddamnit, you're not giving in. He's trying every trick in the book but you don't seem to give a fuck. Maybe he needs to start treating you like an employee. He retreats, sighing softly, humming. "What would be a ten out of ten cake, then?"

You know the answer. It sits between your teeth and tongue. You haven't had it since you were seventeen. "My mom's chocolate cake." You say, not as confidently as you would say other things.

Not because it isn't true, but because you have no way of proving it anymore.

He smiles. "Sounds like I need to pay her a visit if it's that good."

There it is. He's not an asshole, you think but you do want to punch him. Nothing personal, it had entirely to do with the way your brain works. You're overly sensitive, we've been over this.

"Well, you can't." You chuckle. "She's dead."

The look in his eyes is almost comical. You wish it was a joke just so you could play in his face, but no. This was the realest thing in your life. The biggest truth.

"I'm so sorry, I didnt-"

"No, it's okay!" You giggle, tapping his arm. If this was any other situation he would have deemed that a success, but not right now. He's looking at you with pity and you shake your head to assure him. "Really, there's no way you could've known! It's all good."

"I apologize." He says.

You chuckle again. "I said it's fine! You're literally good! I was kind of waiting for you to say something like that so I could drop the bomb."

A surprised lilt pours out of his mouth. "That's kinda silly."

As you giggle, you point at him. "It did get you, though."

"You're a little kooky in the head, aren't you?"

"Just a little." You play along.

As is every girl with a dead mother. You have two choices, you either end up in the loony bin, or you develop a sense of humor.

Fortunately for you, it's the latter.

You hope... It's hard to tell with a brain like yours.

taglist: @michexoxo @deyhr @alebrasil0101 @marie-444

Author's note: Forgot to mention that this fic goes day by day. So each chapter is 1 day out of the 82 days of your Summer Associates Program!

Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Reader is at home, she's a little overwhelmed, very short chapter. Written in present tense.

Word count: 538

Dirty clothes are piled on the chair by your bed and you take the day off as an opportunity to finally conquer them. Your jean set from yesterday are thrown on the top, reminding you of the happenings...

Embarrassing. Fainting in your bosses office? Over mint?

"Ugh." You cringe and throw them in a laundry basket before you realize your brooch is gone. The chest pocket is nursing a tiny pinhole where it used to be. Your blood runs cold.

You barge into the living room with the jean shirt held out. "Koharu! D'you see my brooch?"

"Which one?"

"The one from mom! With the bumblebee?" Your brows are tied and you sound like you're about to cry.

It only alarms her to drag herself off the couch. "No, did you wear it?"

"Yes! I was wearing it yesterday!" You hands tighten around the shirt, showing her the lack of brooch.

She presses her lips into a line, like she's sorry, and holds your arms. "When's the last time you remember wearing it?"

Thoughts are blurred, somehow you're not sure. "I don't know!" You scorn. "At work!"

"Okay, calm down-"

"I can't calm down!" You swat her hands away. "That was mom's last gift to us, Koha!"

She has an identical brooch kept safe in her jewellery box, doesn't wear it as much as you do. She uses it for special occasions, while every day is a special occasion for you.

Small difference despite the same roots. It's almost like your mom knew exactly how often the two of you would wear it.

"Did you see it on me yesterday?!"

"I dunno!" She groans. "You were dying, I didn't check!"

You groan louder.

"Y/n, stop it! You probably dropped it in the car or the hospital or something!" She says and you're already out the door to check.

The car is clear. No sign of a bumblebee, so you turn the key and drive to the hospital instead. Koharu is left staring at the door, yelling something incoherent over the roaring engine.

"Have you seen a brooch with a bumblebee around here?" You ask any nurse in your sight and all of them shake their heads.

Groans spill out of your mouth as you're crouched on the floor, checking under and around chairs, vending machines, rolling carts. Nothing. Nada. It has you cussing under your breath.

The brooch you wore with pride, like your heart on your sleeve, was gone. The very last sting from your mother, gone.

It has you spiraling for the rest of the day.

You don't tend to get hysterical over material things but this time it's different. You feel like a bad daughter.

"You're not a bad daughter." Koharu assures you back at home. Her hand rubs your back as you sob into your palms. "Mom would never want you to be sad over something so small."

You want to argue back. Tell her there's nothing small about losing a part of you. Want to tell her she's got nothing to worry about since her brooch is collecting dust in her room.

However, your tears find your mouth and salt swells your tongue.

You wonder who's hands it's in, and if those are good hands...

taglist: @michexoxo @deyhr @alebrasil0101 @marie-444

⋆˚꩜｡conflict of interest:

chapter 01

chapter 02

chapter 03

chapter 04

chapter 05

⭐ SATORU GOJO

⋆˚꩜｡ please - oneshot 🔞

"baby oh please, i'll take another step closer. i'm on my knees."

boyfriend!satoru gojo x racially ambiguous fem!reader

⭐ HIGURUMA HIROMI

⋆˚꩜｡conflict of interest - series 🔞

"you're so art deco, out on the floor. shinin' like gunmetal."

defense attorney!higuruma hiromi x intern fem!reader

⭐ FUSHIGURO TOJI

⋆˚꩜｡cookie - oneshot 🔞

"made a little cookie, baked it just for you."

Author's note: Read chapters one and two before reading this!

Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Explicit language, inappropriate workplace flirting, Nanami is very #out of character, reader is still a little annoying, this is a slowburn, Higuruma is so fine (just thought I'd mention it). Written in present tense.

Word count: 3019

You're chewing on the end of your pen when Nanami finds you at your cubicle the next morning again.

You're wearing a jean set, short sleeved and frilled cutely at the bottom. The chest pocket has a bumblebee brooch pinned into it, which he glances down at briefly, then back into your eyes. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I came here to find you when the rain stopped but you were gone already."

"Oh no, it's totally fine-"

"No, it isn't." He cuts you off dismissively. His voice isn't all too colorful like it was the first two days, and you think he might be upset over something. You don't push and he continues. "But today's a better day. Sun's shining, rooftop's in the clear. I can sneak you up in about-" he checks his watch. "Two hours."

The little bit of enthusiasm he carries in his face makes you keep yesterday's happenings to yourself. You don't tell him that you've already been to the rooftop to see the beehive, and you definitely don't tell him that you were distracted by something else.

You smile up at him, scratching the back of your neck. "Uhm, okay! Yeah, I would love that, Mister Nanami. Thank you!"

"Alright." He flashes that signature smile and taps his fingers against your desk. "I'll see you then."

His stroll to the elevator is, once again, accompanied by the flirting of your co-workers. "What a great view to start my day with!" A woman from one cubicle touches his forearm before he has disappears completely in the distance.

You're taken back out of your thoughts when you notice Kobayashi's suggestive eyes peaking over the panel, fingers gripping around it. "Take a pic, it'll last longer."

You don't pay mind to her giggling, brush it off with a scoff. "It's not like that."

"Oh please!" She scorns right back. "We're all obsessed with him, you're not the only one!"

"But I'm not!" You argue.

You really aren't.

His blond hair and broad shoulders grab your attention for a completely different reason. Nanami is an interesting man, you think. He's been overly friendly with you, and this is only the third day of knowing him.

Sure, he pays attention to each woman in the office, entertains them individually, but you wonder if he's taken any of them to see the beehive yet. And if so, what was his motive?

"Have you been to the rooftop?" You ask.

Kobayashi blinks, lips puckering, she thinks hard. "No... I don't think I have, actually. Why?"

"Mister Nanami-" you begin and hear the collective whiplash in the office. All of them turn their heads like you're about to spill some juicy gossip, and it's only because you've uttered the name of the resident heartthrob. He seems to have everyone under his hipnosis. You lower your head as you tell her: "Asked to show me the beehive up there yesterday, but the rain never stopped and now he says he'll take me there today."

"Oh! My! God!" Kobayashi disappears behind the panel and rounds it to enter your cubicle and holds your hands in her tight grip. "Nanami wants to take you to the rooftop?!"

And so it spreads.

"Nanami wants to take L/n to the rooftop!"

"Nanami wants to ask L/n out on the rooftop!"

"Nanami is planning to propose to L/n on the rooftop!"

Okay, that was an exaggeration. It goes to show how gossip changes from ear to ear, like a virus.

"No one's asking anyone out!" You hold out your hands for the office to calm down. "It's not like that!"

You hear whispers in the back. "Wow, she thinks she's too good for Nanami..."

The other interns clearly don't like you very much, with the way they're staring at you, brows tied with disgust.

"No, it's-" you groan. "I don't think that, at all! He just offered to show me the beehive on the rooftop." You explain, and in a matter of seconds, the office turns against you.

"Why just you?!" One spits. "I wanna see it too!"

"Yeah! We want Nanami to show us the beehive too!"

The sound of protesting fists banging on desks prompts Shimizu to rush into office with horrified eyes and an open stapler in her hand for protection. "What the hell is going on?!" She yells over the noise and her gaze lands on you.

The instigator.

It's what you look like at the moment, kitten heels propped up on your chair, talking down on the office like you're planning to steal the moon.

Shimizu steps over and pulls you down, snapping. "What did you do?!"

"Nothing!" You bellow and pull Kobayashi in for emotional support.

She nods in Shimizu's direction. "L/n's right! It was a misunderstanding!"

"Well, you're gonna fix this mess before Mister Higuruma hears about it, or god forbid, he'll fire you and me!"

You frown. "Why would he fire you?"

"Because-" Shimizu grits her teeth. "You're here with my referral! If you go down, I go down!"

She escapes the battleground and you're left to clean up the rubble with Kobayashi. The two of you glance at each other, then at the office in shambles. They're protesting, chanting, competing with each other, all over a man named Nanami Kento.

Dear god, you think, what a man.

You don't get the appeal, but trying to dissect it right now is untimely so you perch your foot back on the chair and drag yourself up to clap your hands once. "Everyone! I have a suggestion to make!"

Deer in headlights, every one of them.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop now, and your arms are hovering over them like the conductor of an orchestra when you say: "You should all come with me and Mister Nanami to see the beehive!"

Their cheers are almost animated, absolutely and unnecessarily over the top, but it saves your ass from being chased by a crowd of them holding pitchforks, so you deem it a success.

Two hours later, Nanami is not impressed with the swarm of employees on the rooftop, pretending to be interested in the beehive. The bees are better behaved than the interns bumping into his brawny biceps on accident.

"I'm very sorry..." You lean towards him, an awkward grin plastered across your blushing face. "World War three was afoot and this was the only way to settle them."

"No worries." Nanami's smile is back, and it eases you to no end. Whatever bothered him must have been solved. "The goal was to show you the beehive. Here you are," he places his hand on your shoulder like he did yesterday, only this time he keeps it longer. "And there's the beehive. Mission accomplished."

The sun shines bright over the rooftop and while everyone is slowly growing more and more invested in the beehive, you cross your arms and step closer to Nanami. "Should've seen their faces when they heard about our little arrangement. They were furious." You giggle and feel him lean in closer to listen. "They really like you."

It doesn't take a behavioural analysist to read whatever careless thoughts are behind his eyes, you're doing just fine predicting his next question... "What about you?"

Though you can't answer him.

Not because you don't want to, but because-

"What is happening?" Higuruma stands under the sun casting its rays, his suit is just like the one from yesterday, only completely dry.

You can't help but think back to it.

The wet hair, wet suit, water dripping from every angle of his tall figure, rolling down that nose. God, that nose. You have to control yourself, but the bone structure drives you utterly mad.

Nanami takes it upon himself as a fellow supervisor. "The office asked me to show them the beehive."

"And this couldn't wait until your break?" Higuruma asks and it is within his right. It's a ridiculous day, and it isn't even twelve o'clock. You pinch the bridge of your nose and hate yourself for causing all this tension. Higuruma notices, glances at you, then at everyone else. "Get back to work, please. All of you."

Apologies pour out of their mouths like a waterfall. "Yes, Mister Higuruma."

"We apologise, Mister Higuruma."

"It won't happen again, Mister Higuruma."

When it's your turn to pass him, though, you say nothing. Not even a glance, you're quick on your feet as you descend down the stairs.

"I don't appreciate the fact that you're encouraging the interns to slack during work hours." Higuruma tells him off the second they are alone. "Most of them are here on a program. Not only are you wasting their time, you're also wasting their potential."

The faint buzzing of the bees does nothing to cut through the sudden gloom. Clouds are fighting to hide the sun.

"You're right." Nanami admits. He stands with his arms crossed, a statement on its own, opposed to the way Higuruma stands with his hands in his pockets. A little more reserved, a lot more tired. "But this wasn't my idea. It was kinda thrown on me and I couldn't tell the entire office 'no'."

"I don't care who's idea it was, Nanami." The attorney's deep voice sounds like it has reached it's limit, or at least climbing its way to it. He snaps. "You have to learn to tell them 'no' when necessary, otherwise you end up with interns who think they're your friend."

Nanami huffs, bites the inside of his cheek and mutters: "That's exactly why none of them like you." Under his breath.

"I expect better from you."

"This was completely out of my hands." He explains again, but it doesn't impress Higuruma, so Nanami sighs. "I was supposed to show L/n only, but the entire office somehow heard about it and in an attempt to fix the issue, she invited everyone. That's all. She was just trying to make things better."

He's aware his words are registering. Higuruma isn't the type of person to dismiss another, he's way too invested in his job to ignore his co-workers like that, but it does take a little longer than average to convince him.

The name lingers in his mind.

L/n... Of course. Always at the scene of crime, somehow. She must be a magnet for bad luck, Higuruma thinks.

Nodding, "The next time you decide to gather the entire office here, make sure to do it during your break." He says lastly and leaves.

"Will do!" Nanami calls after him, then snorts when Higuruma is fully out of sight. "Fucking power-tripping freak." He spits through gritted teeth.

—

In all honesty, you do not want to go to his office.

There aren't any files you're supposed to take to him for reviewing, and you know the only reason he called you in is because of the office scandal you pulled this morning.

"I'm not going to fire you, but let this be your warning. One more mess-up and I won't be so generous." His words flood your mind and now you can't breathe. Is this it? Did he call you to fire you?

Fuck.

It all goes back to the chocolate protein bar. That was the first strike. You face palm and the elevator doors slide open to let you out. You don't want to, but your heels click either way.

You have to.

It doesn't take him longer than a second to speak from the other side of the oak door. This fucking door... "Come in."

His fucking voice.

You have to reach into your brain and drag those little knees off the floor, mentally, before pushing the handle down. Head through the gap, "You called me in?" You mumble.

Dismal. It's all you can think of when he looks at you with those eyes. His fingers are tied over his nose, and his dark pupils look up at you from his desk. He doesn't say a word, forces you to pick up on the ques he's putting down.

Like he's training you.

It doesn't help that you're salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs when he catches a glimpse of your bumblebee brooch and smiles faintly. God, why would you create a man so fine?

You shut the door behind and stand with your hands tied, fingers fidgeting.

Higiruma is out to kill you.

Brows raised, wind wooshing in and out of the windows behind him, his office smells faintly of lime and white rum, sugary mint comes and goes. It works against you and spins the floor.

"I thought I'd been clear with my warning, but I guess not." He begins finally. His gaze doesn't soften, but at least the silence doesn't deafen you anymore. He leans back, leasurely and calculated. Like he's thought about how to welcome you in beforehand. His hands gesture. "So? What's your excuse?"

There's none, you're out of them.

Your head shakes while apologies pour out of your mouth but it's all in vain. He does not seem to give a single fuck.

"You sneak onto the rooftop during work hours, then ask your supervisor to take you up there again the next day, and as if all of that's not enough, you involve the entire office. I'm excited to hear your reasoning."

"Mister Higuruma-"

"No really." He cuts you off. "What is it about this place that makes you think you're any different than the other interns?"

"That's-" you pause, gulping. Mint overwhelms your nostrils and not being allowed to sit down puts pressure on your knees, which have been a little weak since Shimizu told you Mister Higuruma wanted to talk to you. You've known for approximately ten minutes that you'd be fired. "That's not what I think."

He chirps, a sound of surprise. "So why do you act like it?"

Your hands tremble, and so does your voice when you argue: "I'm sorry if I've upset you-"

"If." He cuts you off again. "That's exactly your problem. You're apologizing just in case you've done something wrong, but I'm telling you you have. If you want to survive in the corporate world, you're gonna have to practice some self-reflecting, L/n."

You feel your throat tighten and itch, and the feeling is familiar. Your chest heaves and you search for the cause of this reaction, which sits on the dresses in the corner. A diffuser that fills the room with mint extract.

You gulp, gripping the leather seat in front of you.

It's an alarming sight that makes him lean in. "Are you okay?"

"I can't..." You pant, your legs give up and you're on the floor. "Can't breathe."

The rest is a blur. You don't hear him call for Shimizu, nor feel him lift you slightly. His fingers behind your neck stabilize your head and keep your throat from closing up completely.

When you open your eyes, you're in a hospital bed, bright lights above your head, a heart-rate monitor beeping in your ear, your sister hovers over you. "Oh thank god!"

You groan under her and a nurse walks in to grin at the embrace. "You're awake!"

"What happened?" You hand sits on your head, the other one is being squeezed super tightly by your sister.

Koharu sits back and allows the nurse to approach you by the bed, checking your vitals. "You went into anaphylaxis. Good thing your boss took you here on time."

Your boss.

Maybe he wasn't just an emotionless suit... Or maybe he just didn't want to deal with the legalities of death at the workplace.

Seems entirely plausible given the fact that he isn't here right now.

Koharu pulls you out of your thoughts with a scolding hand on your wrist. "How'd even happen?! Why didn't you tell the office about your allergies?!"

"I did!" You scold back, bickering with your sister is a necessity even after near death. "I mean, not everyone, but still!"

She rolls her eyes, you could have died and this is your attitude.

"Well, it's a good thing they used your EpiPen on you before taking you here." The nurse taps you on the shoulder and bores you with all the formalities before your discharge, but you're laser-focused on her first comment.

You never told anyone about the EpiPen. How did they know?

It is a silent car ride back home, just a single notification buzzing, followed quickly by another one... And then another one. You draw your phone out of your bag and see the messages from Shimizu.

Oh fuck, that's right. You were getting fired before you dramatically collapsed on the floor of your boss's office.

Through squinted eyes, you read them.

'Hope you're okay!'

'You're off for tomorrow! Make sure to rest!'

'We're all really excited to see you again on Friday!'

The gasp from your mouth nearly makes Koharu swerve off the road. "What?!" She bellows. "Can't breathe?!"

"I can!" You chirp. "It's just- I'm not fired!" Your thumbs work fast to type in a message back. 'Wait, I'm not fired?'

'Why would you be fired?'

'I don't know. I thought Mister Higuruma was upset with me.'

'He's not. You're going home because you almost died, why would he be upset about that?'

You don't even attempt to explain to Shimizu why you were so afraid of the thought and thank her instead.

"Who're you texting with that big ass smile?" Koharu giggles, occasionally glancing at you and earning honk from the cars around for her slightly crazy driving.

"Shimizu!"

She grins with you. "Ah, that's right. She told me to update her but I forgot."

"She's always so kind."

Koharu hums. "Mhm, she is. Love that girl down!"

They used to work together before your sister decided law wasn't actually what she wanted, and opened a nail salon instead.

Hence the different set every month on Shimizu's fingers, she gets a friendship discount.

The view out the rolled window is better now that you know you're not fired. Mister Higuruma is generous with his second chances, but you know better than to push your luck.

From now on, you'll behave.

taglist: @michexoxo @deyhr @alebrasil0101

Author's note: Read chapter 01 before you read this! Also, dunno if I mentioned this, but this is an AU. It does not take place in the jjk universe, there are no curses, and all characters (except for Higuruma, Nanami, and reader ofc) are original!

Pairings: Defense Attorney!Higuruma Hiromi x Intern fem!Reader, Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Intern fem!Reader(?)

Contents: Profanity, nicotine consumption, workplace flirting, Nanami is still #out of character, Higuruma keeps it strictly professional, reader is a little annoying, some Higuruma nose appreciation, also this is a slowburn btw. Written in present tense.

Word count: 4497

After careful consideration, Honeycore it is.

You gathered the essentials and brought them into your cubicle, and now you're arranging the last on the corner of your desk. A crocheted honeybee, like the one on your keys, but this one holds a little sign that says Bee kind.

It is noticed almost immediately by none other than Nanami. "Looks good!" He approached your cubicle but not without giving out winks to the other girls, holding a pastry box in his large hand. "So much personality compared to yesterday."

"I like decorating!" You grin up at him.

"So I've noticed." He smiles, then announces: "Brought some pastries for the office!" Loud enough for the others to hear, but casual enough for you to take personally. His eyes trace your beaming face carefully, like he's searching for something more than just a thank you.

The others swarm your cubicle and pick at the selection of pastries in the box, catching the flakes with napkins in their hands and giggling at him like he's their daddy.

He might just be, with the way he treats them so generously.

As the crowd dissolves, Nanami notices the last two treats left in the box. "Hope you like almond croissants and mint tartlets. Those are the only ones left."

"Oh, no." You smile with your hand waving. "I'm actually allergic to both, so... Can't eat that."

"Almonds and mint?" His apology is immediate, hand closing the box. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine, you couldn't have known." Your hand sits on his forearm. It is a brief second but he feels it. His eyes linger on the skin with your warmth. "Besides, I'll take a chocolate cake over a croissant any day."

The perfect opportunity is right in front of him.

Nanami doesn't usually do this but in a desperate attempt to conjure that reaction out of her, "The bakery I get these pastries from actually make a delicious chocolate cake." He lays the foundation smoothly. "Maybe we could grab a bite for lunch?"

Oh.

Your frown is enough to put him in a bad mood for the rest of the day, pretty much. "I'm sorry, I brought my own lunch today." You grin apologetically. "But thank you!"

No woman has ever rejected him... Until right now.

Nanami's jaw clenches as he forces a nod and grips the pastry box. "Alright, no worries." He says and strolls away without another word.

You don't hear them yet, but the footsteps of war are growing louder.

—

"So, how's your second day going?" Shimizu stands with her hands behind her back and bothers you a little as time approaches twelve o'clock. "Need any help?"

You're buzzing with happiness. It could not get any better, you think. "Nope! I'm all good. Just working on this document, organizing the timeline, then I gotta take it to Mister Higuruma."

"Ooh, good luck." She pats my shoulder. "He's very strict about that stuff."

A giggle falls out of your lips. "What's he not strict about?"

"Fair." She laughs. "Oh, Mister Nanami's treating us for lunch today. Will you be joining?"

"No, I already told him." You turn back to your screen and type away on your keyboard, the clicking an ASMR dream. "Got my own lunch."

"You sure? Getting to know the other interns says a lot about your workplace etiquette."

You nod. "I'm sure. Not very hungry, anyways. I'd rather finish this. Maybe I'll join some other day."

"Suit yourself." Shimizu shrugs, then noticed the crocheted honeybee on your desk. She picks it up, a smile on her round face. "Bee kind. Hah. Cute." She puts it back down and leaves you to it.

About half an hour later, the office is quiet save for the occasional phones ringing in the distance. Everyone must have followed Nanami like moths to a flame. There isn't a single person here by the time you finished your first assignment.

Your legs shake as you stretch them, arms above your head, you sigh. "Done, done, and done." In three clicks you save and send it to print.

Then you wait for an agonizing twenty minutes for the printer to decide whether or not it wants to work. You slam your hands on it gently, pressing the buttons over and over, unplugging and plugging it again. "Ugh, come on! Stupid machine!"

"You know it can't hear you, right?" A deep voice asks.

Gasping, you startle back to find him standing over the threshold of the copy room. "Mister Higuruma?" Fingers fix your pencil skirt. "I was just- I'm printing the documents you asked for."

"No need." His deep voice cuts through yours but not the same way a sword in a battle would. More like a hot knife slicing soap. And the soap smells of lime and fresh laundry, little bit of hair gel and overwhelmingly thick tension.

He's closer now, a respectable amount of space between the two of you, and yet his figure still towers over yours.

You always had a thing for gentle men and his hands in his pockets weren't helping. In fact, they were feeding the fantasies inside your head, roaming free like he's not your supervisor and you're not his intern... Well, maybe that was part of the fun.

"You could just e-mail me everything. No need to harass the printer." His eyes flicker to the blinking lights of the large machine, then back at you. They're soft, like a hug, his dark pupils capture yours. "You haven't gone out for lunch?"

"Oh, no." You struggle to look away from his eyes, like a horrible car crash you can't seem to ignore. "Wasn't hungry so I stayed."

He simply hums. "E-mail me the documents and come into my office for reviewing after you've eaten something." He turns to leave.

"I can come in now!" You stop him in his tracks. "Like I said, I'm not hungry."

He takes a good look at you, those car crash eyes gauging your full form up and down, then insists, "After you've eaten something." And leaves.

—

The office is filled with chatter once everyone spills in, stomachs full thanks to the generous salary man who has his eyes on you again. His jaw noticeably relaxed, he finds you putting your tupperware away. "I bet whatever you just ate does not even come close to the bakery I was talking about."

You laugh up at him, wiping the tomato sauce from your chin. "Oh, I don't doubt it." You joke back.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his beige slacks and his posture straightens like a fast growing tree in a field of mere bushes. He stands out with undeniable confidence, borderline annoying, you think. "My offer still stands. I'll take you to that bakery one day."

"One day." You get out of your seat. "I need to be in Mister Higuruma's office, if you'll excuse me."

It's polite, your voice is careful and professional, while his eyes are barely readable. You get a sense of worry crawling up your spine. Like you've said something wrong. "Of course, go ahead." He retreats out of the way with one large step. "I'll see you 'round."

"Yeah." You smile. "See ya!"

The next time you speak is when you're poking your head through the ajar door of his office; "Mister Higuruma? You said to come in for reviewing?"

"Ah, yes. Come in." He jots one little thing down on a memo pad and sighs. The door click behind you and he's already got his tragic eyes on yours with unwavering magnetism.

He's very appealing, and you don't want to admit in what ways.

He gestures at one of the chairs with his hand, eyes on his computer screen with the documents you e-mailed him. "You've done the chronology correctly, but you're making it harder than it needs to be."

You chirp in question.

"This is supposed to be a timeline, instead, it reads like a narrative." He explains while his finger scrolls down on the mouse. "You don't need to account for every event in full sentences, you're not writing a summary. Strip it down to just the verified times, movements, and anything that changes the evidentiary value of the sequence."

You wish you had a pen and paper to write everything down. Words spill out of his exhausted mouth expeditiously, and all of it sounds kind of muffled. Like each word costs a dollar to speak.

"So, like a table?"

"A table, a chart, bullet points if you have to. Whatever works best for you," He glances briefly. "Lets you see the gaps faster."

You're nodding and writing it all down mentally. "Got it."

"And don't write what you think happened." He adds quickly, giving you almost no room to speak. "Unless you can seperate it from what's confirmed. If you blur those two together, you'll end up with... this." He points at the document like it's a disgrace.

There is nothing unkind about it. Well, if it isn't you he's talking to.

You've always been a little more sensitive than other people and you're realising it now. Criminal law will push you in directions you've been avoiding your entire life.

Embarrassingly, your heart skips a beat when he turns to look at you, elbows on his desk, fingers tied over his mouth. "Are you following?"

"Yes!" You blurt, a white lie.

He hums. "You'll save yourself, and me, a lot of time if you mark these three things-" he holds his fist out and opens a finger with each requirement. "Established facts, disputed facts, and missing information."

It starts to click. "That... Makes a lot of sense. Thank you."

Silence follows your words and it makes you feel as though you've said something out of line. There is a look in his eyes, unexpected, baffled. He clears his throat, his tie around his neck seems to press down on his windpipe. He loosens it. Veiny hand, slender fingers tugging it down just a little. It stays within the lines of professional which you want to sulk about. A little skin would have been appreciated but alas. You peel your eyes off the movement and tap your foot, the sole of your sneaker against the tile flooring.

It helps cut through the gloom, though not for long.

His eyes are back on the document and you think he's forgotten you're still here. Your mind tells you to do something very stupid, then. "There's a gap in the timeline." You say.

Over-confident, you're aware of how you're perceived.

A sound escapes him. It sits in between a sigh and something else you can't quite uncover. "Pardon?" He asks.

Once you manage to ignore the razzle dazzle in his round eyes, which only you seem to notice, you repeat; "There's a gap." You point at the computer. "Seven-thirty and eight-twelve. That's forty-two minutes missing from the timeline."

He had noticed it too, of course, but your sharp eye -or rather, your will to pry- gets him to raise a brow. He hums, nods, and gestures with his hand for you to get to the point.

Problem is, you have no point.

You don't have one that's strong enough, no theory, no motive. It's a stupid one-liner and your capabilities in this field aren't fully developed yet. That's why you're the intern, and he's the attorney.

"The order is important because of the witness statement, so that gap matters a lot more than just the events lining up. It means something."

Don't get it twisted, he's intrigued but the curiosity lies more heavily on the audacious side of your argument. "Explain something."

It sounds like a challenge.

You're almost certain it is. The infliction in his tone is telling you to be careful. So you try to be. "Just-" you begin but can't finish. Words don't cooperate with your tongue. It ties itself into a knot and you stammer your way through a half-assed sentence. "The pro-prosecution relies on the witness to, y'know, to establish when the uhm, the argument happened. Right?"

You're a mess but at least he doesn't look like he's judging you too much. His eyes are half-lidded, brows low, hands under his chin. He says absolutely nothing, which could mean two things.

He's impressed... Or he does not care at all.

It's probably the latter, you think.

"That means either the witness isn't exactly reliable or... We're missing something."

A weight is lifted off your shoulders now that you were done with your -objectively- stupid argument, but a new one is weighed on you when he sighs deeply. A little too deeply.

"We aren't doing anything." He points between you and himself and somehow his voice is even lower. "You're not here to evaluate the witness statement, that's my job. All you need to do is focus on the task at hand, which is to organize case files."

That gets you.

A knot forms in your throat and you try your very hardest to swallow it, otherwise it'll escape through your eyes in the form of cry baby tears. Quietly, you hum. "Yes sir."

I'm an idiot, you think.

"You can get back to work now, thank you." He says.

Not a single color in his voice, this is all very normal to him. You nod and tell him to have a good day, even though you don't really want him to now, and leave his office.

The tears start rolling the second you close the door and you find yourself in the bathroom.

It's silly and you want to punch yourself for crying over something so stupid. It does not matter, so why do you feel this way?

"Why are you so sensitive?" You ask your reflection in the mirror, water rolls down your cheeks.

Behind you, a stall door opens. Kobayashi sees your face, tuts. "Were you in Higuruma's office?"

"How'd you know?" You ask, turning the faucet off.

She rips a couple tissues from the wall-mounted box and hands them to you, then points at your red eyes. "Not the first time he's made an intern cry." She says. "He can be mean."

You dispute it immediately, mumbling something behind the tissues. You shake your head. "No, it was me. I was just-" you sigh. "Sometimes I can be sensitive. Too sensitive." You explain it to her like she's your shrink. "Like, he just told me to mind my business- I mean, he didn't say it like that, it's just..." You groan. "I said something and he told me that's not my job."

"So, mean?" Kobayashi nods once and chuckles. Her shoulders roll, eyes fixed on herself in the mirror now. She combs her fingers through her long hair and glances at you through her peripheral. "You'll get used to it, don't worry. Just don't say whatever you're thinking, he probably doesn't care."

And what a task that was.

If only there was a way for you to shut the fuck up sometimes.

You take her advice with a grain of salt, unfortunately, and return to your cubicle with less energy than you're used to. Luckily, the view makes it worth it. The city is still singing for you. A serenade under the rain, it pitter-patters on the floor-to-ceiling windows and you seek refuge in the sound of it.

Hand on your chest, you take in a deep breath and smile again.

"You like the rain, don't you?" Nanami's voice breaks you away.

His collar is loosened, blond hair clearly combed through with his fingers, tussled on his forehead, he nears you in a manner that feels much more friendly than before. No alterior motive.

You look back out the window and nod. "Love it. Calms me down a lot."

He pauses for a second, careful not to overstep the invisible line you have very obviously drawn around yourself. "Hm, I don't like that you needed calming down. Did something bother you today?"

"Nothing bad." You emphasize with your hands. "Just, I've- nevermind."

"Please." Nanami insists, arms across his chest, he leans in. "It's my responsibility to ensure my interns have a good experience at work. If it's something I can help with, I would love to."

You look up at him and see it in his eyes. He's genuine more than he's ever been so far, and it helps ease the tension in your neck. You squeeze the muscle and hesitate but the words slip eventually. "Mister Higuruma... Just, I overstepped and he kind of told me off a little, rightfully so! It's just, I'm not very good at handling confrontation. I get it though, I'm in law, I shouldn't be such a baby, but I am trying! Anyways, it's fine, really!"

Your ramble draws a deep laugh out of him. His shoulders shake with the rumble from his chest. "I'm always fascinated by people who can talk uninterrupted like this." He points at your general state. "Words just fly out, it's kind of refreshing."

You face palm, groaning through your fingers. "Oh god, now it sounds like I'm instigating something between you and your co-worker." You sigh, shake your head, look at him like you're guilty of a serious crime. "I'm actually trying to talk a little less but I appreciate the compliment."

His eyes crease, pearly whites on display. "You should. It's true." Then his hand sits on your shoulder.

It's not intimate nor warm.

In fact, his hand's pretty cold even through your blouse, and yet it's welcomed. He pats gently and retracts as quickly. "Higuruma can be strict, but it's never personal. You don't need to worry about a vendetta." He then leans in; "He won't haunt your dreams." He winks.

You laugh behind your hand, a slight tint to your face.

"Hey, there it is!" Nanami joins with a chuckle of his own. "That bright smile! We need something to light up the office on a day like this."

His head tilts towards the window and your eyes catch the bad weather again, a grin glued to your face this time.

"I feel bad for the animals, though." You say suddenly.

Unrelated topics are your favorite and who needs segues anyway?

"Especially the bees." You add. "Their wings are too weak for rain like this."

His head snaps to your desk in an instant, to the bumblebee shaped memo pad and a black and yellow pen on top of it. "You like them a lot."

"I do!" Enthusiasm rushes through your veins and it's almost enough to wrangle the sun back into view. "They're the cutest little pollinators!"

"Then you probably already know about the beehive on the roof."

You blink. "The what?"

He blinks back, smiling softly. "The beehive? On the roof of this building."

"There's a beehive on the top of this building?!"

"Yeah!" He laughs when he sees your ears perk up. "You didn't know? Urban beekeeping. We've invested in support of urban agriculture." He explains and your grin grows wider with each word. "You've probably read the company update we had a couple years ago, we're very big on sustainability now. Y'know, fulfilling CSR and ESG is very popular in this day and age."

"Oh my god, I have to see it!" You beam up at him.

Motivation. That's what this is for him. A chance to get that reaction out of you. The one he gets from all other women on a daily basis. "How 'bout this, if the rain stops I can sneak you up there for a little exploring. That sound good?"

"Yes!" Your fingers grip his forearms and he can't help but feel a rush. Something coarsing through his veins but he's not quite sure what it is. You were giving in, of course you were. What kind of woman would ever be able to resist him? The Nanami Kento? Not a chance. His ego is restored and it brings a different kind of smile to his face again. The less friendly and more frisky kind.

"Alright then. Let's hope the sun shines again!" He circles you, fingers on his watch. "I have to go now, but I'd say keep smiling and you might make it shine!"

You watch him leave with a wide smile, thanking him until he's in the elevator. Then your eyes are on the sky again, hoping through the drops on the window, praying for sunshine.

—

It's the very last hour and your prayers have not been answered.

You sulk behind your computer screen, guess you won't be seeing any bees today. "Why the long face?" Shimizu walks up behind you, hands on your chair. She's already got her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave.

"It's nothing." You keep it short. "Just tired. You leaving?"

She hums. "Yeah, got off a little earlier today. You?"

"I got a little longer. Drive safe."

She tells you the same before she's gone. It takes you longer than usual to get your butt off your chair and drag your tired feet to the copy room. A couple documents need scanning and frankly, you're hoping they're the last. You haven't check the rest, yet.

The machine beeps and you're zoned out on the chipped paint on the wall, contemplating it all. There's a small chance you could be bipolar but you don't want to self-diagnose.

Mood swings are your only clue and you're not sure it qualifies. Surely there's more to a diagnosis, but you do feel as though you move from one emotion to the other quite quickly.

You're stuck on the bees now. Want to see them but don't want to do it without Nanami- fuck it. You're doing it.

Fishing the compact umbrella from your bag, you step inside the elevator and press the highest button. It ascends quickly and you don't even get the time to unfurl your umbrella before the doors slide open.

Rain blows inside and you're forced to push against the wind and resist all odds to step onto the rooftop, like a battle of which you've taken the frontlines.

Only entirely lackluster.

You raise it over your head and see the eye-candy that is the cityscape. The sun, that has been refusing to shine the entire day, is now dipping below the orange and yellow horizon. Buildings are clouded and the rain is a little softer now, puddling in the holes along the cracked cement.

Slight buzzing is heard but you're not seeing the beehive until you walk around the wall beside the stairs and there it is.

The beehive, but there's something else that catches your eyes far quicker than that. Or rather, someone else.

His suit is soaked, dripping with rain water, and so is his slick black hair, but he doesn't seem to care. He stands on the edge where the rails keep him from falling fifty-three floors, and a cigarette is tucked between his fingers. You can't help but step closer.

"Mister Higuruma?"

As if he feels your presence, he doesn't turn to look. Takes a puff instead, and hums. One hands inside his pocket, eyes on the city below.

It fascinates you. Something about him, how different he is. Never once did you care to look down, and yet here he is ignoring the sunset. The people look like ants, and the cars like little toys he used to play with back when he was a little kid.

You join him on the edge, squinted eyes looking up at him from under your umbrella. "Are we allowed to be up here?"

Admittedly, you don't think you care about the answer. You're too busy looking at his nose. You're weirdly obsessed with it. The arch, neat and sharp, just like himself. You trace it with your eyes but wish you could use your fingers instead.

"I am." He finally turns to look down at you. There they are. Those car crash eyes. "You should still be working."

"I've finished everything. Just wanted to come up here and see the bees." You explain yourself a little hesitantly.

He hums with that deliciously deep voice and you hate yourself for wanting to hear more of it. He grants that wish immediately when he asks; "How'd you know about the beehive?"

"Mister Nanami told me about it." You step a little closer to him, raising your umbrella over his head, your shoulder brushes his arm but you tell yourself it's policy. Kindness is mandatory in your book and you won't let a person get cold in the rain, not even if that person is your -slightly mean- boss. "He was actually supposed to show me himself but the rain never stopped-"

"So you decided to come here anyways." He finishes sharply. He notices the subtle way you tilt the umbrella toward him, brow cocking unsurely, but lets it slide. "You have a knack for doing things you're not supposed to."

The words then slip out of your mouth before you can stop them; "And you have a knack for saying things in a mean way." Your hand flies to your mouth immediately. "I'm so sorry." You mumble.

He glares at you, teeth clenching. "You do realize I'm your boss, right?"

"Yes, I'm very sorry. I don't know why I- I just, I didn't mean that. It just slipped out of my mouth. I'm sorry."

He watches the way your hands tremble, one tightening around the handle of your umbrella, and the other loose in the air. Takes one last drag from his cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his expensive shoes. Not the ones you messed up yesterday. A brand new pair, glossed, engraved leather, a representation of the walls around him. They're just as sturdy and carefully constructed, but they're soaked in the rain and his walls are not.

Perhaps that's the only difference.

"I should fire you..." He mumbles and escapes out from under your umbrella.

It earns a gasp from you. "I apologize if I've upset you! Please Mister Higuruma, don't fire me-"

He exhales and it sends a pink color to your cheeks and ears. It's not quite a chuckle, not a huff either, simply a breath accompanied by the subtle stretch of his lips. Much like everything else about him, it's not extravagant. Whatever he's thinking, it is with the absolute lowest of energy. The bags under his eyes are proof of it.

"I'm not gonna fire you." He says while actively extending the space between you, until he's right by the stairs. "But let this be your warning. One more mess-up and I won't be so generous."

Higuruma Hiromi is a man of charm, you think as he descends down the stairs and leaves you to your thoughts on the quiet rooftop. By this point, you've already forgotten about the bees.