#Hiro: what do you do when I’m not here?

[dykesynthezoid]

Speaking of Ando being down bad, I've been thinking about making an amv/animatic/lyric comic/SOMETHING about him pining after Hiro when they're separated, but I could use some help whittling down the song options:

A) Vanilla Twilight by Owl City (the last bit mentions reaching back to the past, but otherwise it's a pretty generic song about missing someone)

B) Boats & Birds by Gregory and the Hawk (maybe TOO soft and sappy?)

C) Francis Forever by Mitski (this one would be framed as a duet with half the focus on Hiro's time in the feudal era)

D) Admire the Architecture by The Scary Jokes (would start with him waiting at the diner, then expand to deal with their relationship in general if I used the full song)

Ahhh omg I love it… idk what song is the best choice tbh (although I am a Mitski fan). It’s always funny to me that in the midst of all the moving plotlines in that show it was like. Also these guys are in love btw and that’s just part of it. Don’t worry about it

[delirious-donna]

Hiromi is not one to back down from an argument. It’s the lawyer in him plus his inherent desire to always be right, even when he isn’t. He doesn’t necessarily get angry, he isn’t going to raise his voice or swear at you, but he is going to lay out his argument in excruciating detail and expect you to listen. It could be the simplest of little disagreements and Hiromi will treat it like his entire professional reputation is on the line, an imaginary jury of your peers fills the courtroom in his head and what started as a playful butting of heads grows arms and legs, maybe even a second head.

However… there is one surefire way to shut him up mid-flow, and that is to approach carefully and forcibly shove your hand across his mouth. You have to maintain eye contact to ensure it’s working, but it has never failed yet. His intelligent darkly lit eyes mellow, his breathing turns reedy and he mumbles out a moan behind the meat of your palm. Heat rushes to fill his cheeks, the warmth of his breath tickling your fingertips as you arch an eyebrow and lean in closer.

The scratch of his five o’clock shadow grazes at your palm, his eyes bouncing erratically between yours as he lets you walk him backwards toward the bedroom door. You can feel him thickening behind his trousers, his hands antsy to reach out and touch you whilst all those pesky little points he had yet to voice spill quietly out his ears… never to be heard.

The bed creaks under the intensity of your movements, bouncing on his leaking cock with such fervour that you worry you might break either the frame or Hiromi. The man in question huffs into the pillows, sweat rolling freely over his temples as you drape yourself across his chest. “What were you saying, Hiro? I can’t quite hear you now…”

He tries to speak, tries to make any noise at all that isn’t the pathetic whimpers filling the air but you’ve got him beat and the use of dirty underhanded tactics only makes him harder for you. Your teeth skim his nipples, tongue poised to flick them in turn before you return to bearing your weight forward with your hands on his shoulders. The wet ‘pap pap pap’ of your pussy greedily swallowing him down turns those keen whimpers into something only dogs would hear and all he has for you are heart eyes out on stalks and the ability to gulp like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought. Listen here, Mr Lawyer man, you are a fantastic attorney but when you’re at home… remember that I’m not your adversary.”

Hiromi moans diligently, nodding his head fervently and gripping at the plush of your hips hard enough that you feel bruises bloom. He’s right at the precipice, you can feel it swelling… his balls drawing tight to his dick. He needs to cum and he’ll do anything to make it happen. Your hand reaches backward, fondling those heavy balls in your palm whilst you roll your hips aggressively back and forth. He cums with a bark, the tendons on his neck taut and straining before he crumples back to the sheets.

“I rest my case…”

an: this came about from a conversation with @pseudowho (yes, this is the calibre of our chats 😂) who I love very dearly.

[tsukimefuku]

de-stressing the lawyer :: higuruma hiromi

summary: your husband hiromi is pretty stressed out with work, and you decide to help him out… by giving him head under his desk.

cw: smut, implied f!reader, blowjob, swallowing, pet names (“darling" and “my dear”).

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: this is just filth, guys. It is thoroughly inspired by that one amazing four-panel comic from @g00miato that has lived in my head rent free ever since I saw it a while ago (tagging the artist with her consent, you can check out the comic here on this link).

Hiromi had a throbbing headache as he sat on his home office's desk. He had been cooped up in there for hours after work, having already peeled out his tie and suit jacket, trying to crack a case he didn't get anywhere with during office hours.

The evidence? Wasn't favorable at all. The procedure? Pristine, nothing to argue about that. His client was in a dire situation and Hiromi thought he might have to enter a plea bargain with the prosecution, something he loathed with every fiber of his being.

"Hey, Hiro... Any luck yet?" you asked, walking in holding a plate with a few sandwiches. He looked at you like he could throw himself out of the window at that very instant. "Yeesh."

"I'm stuck. I'm just utterly, and completely, stuck," he answered, disheartened and annoyed, with a prominent vein popping on his forehead — the tell-tale sign he was operating at peak stress capabilities.

You put the plate on the desk and sat on the edge to avoid ruffling up his papers.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Hiro?" you asked, with clear concern in your voice. He worked too much most of the time.

Hiromi spun on his chair to look at you for a second, grabbing one of the sandwiches.

"This is fine, love. Thank you."

Upon closer inspection, he really looked like he was three heartbeats short of a heart attack. 

"Hiromi, you need to relax..." you cooed, giving him a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Maybe try taking a break?"

"I can't. I can't leave this desk. I feel like I almost got it, but it keeps slipping away! Dammit," he complained with his mouth half full while covering his face with his hands.

You sighed, and walked behind him, starting to massage his shoulders. He felt like a boulder underneath your touch, and it took a while for him to actually begin relaxing, putting his food back on the plate and dangling his head back with his eyes closed.

"Is that good?"

Hiromi simply nodded, and you sighed, a little more relieved. However, his muscles were still very much stiff, and there was no way he'd be able to continue working like this.

That was when you had a wicked little idea.

“Hey, Hiro, I think you need a break.”

“My love, I can’t. I’ve almost-“

“Let me rephrase that — you will take a break right now,” you answered him, starting to pull on his chair enough to separate him from his desk, “because I had an idea. And you won’t have to leave your desk.”

Hiromi looked at you confused, but offered no resistance when you pulled him away from his papers. Swiftly, you walked in front of him and kneeled, sliding under his desk.

“What are you-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you put both hands on his thighs and rolled him back in your direction, sneaky fingers quickly unzipping his pants.

“I’m taking care of my dear, beloved husband,” you cooed with a mischievous smile on your face.

Hiromi looked down at you, shuddering the moment you pressed your hands on his clothed cock and started to massage it over his boxers, his pupils slowly growing larger and larger. Hiromi’s mouth fell open, his breathing growing heavier as he gazed at you.

You could feel his length hardening under your touch, and rested your face over his thigh while you kept softly stroking him. Hiromi’s hand made its way towards your face, his thumb brushing circles around your cheek. Your eyes met his, and you smiled at him, robbing him of a blush and some fluttering blinks.

For the first time today, Hiromi actually felt the pent up stress easing on him. His relaxation now had become more evident from the way your husband began slouching himself on his chair. His resolve to keep tinkering with his work evaporated for the time being, something only you got to do with Hiromi.

His work was first to anything, except when it came to you.

Feeling more and more satisfied with that, you finally downed his boxers, just to see his now throbbing, red cock slapping with a soft thud against his skin. From his mouth, the faintest whimper tumbled out, and oh did that rile you up just right.

Not wasting any time, you gave a few licks over his tip, tasting the salty pre cum just forming a tiny drop over his slit. That robbed Hiromi from some little moans and gasps, right before you finally downed his length inside your mouth, glazing it all over with wet, warm saliva. 

”You... t-take such good care-- of me... fuck“ Hiromi’s fingers tangled in your hair, lovingly massaging their way through, and it was you now who let out a tiny mewl, eliciting a broken moan from his lips.

You had your mouth as deep as you could without choking yourself, and bobbed your head up and down his shaft, as one of your hands pumped the rest of his length down to the base, pulling your other hand up to massage his tightening balls. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and at that moment, he let out a strained whimper rolling his eyes back, biting his lips.

”Such a good wife-- s-so good for me-- ohhh perfect... shit... ohhhh--”

His praises were definitely arousing, to say the least, and you clenched your thighs together, relieving — even if just a little — the pulsing need aching in your core while you had both of your hands full with him.

Hiromi got lost in the pleasure, and barely noticed his entire body relaxing, which led to his legs starting to push him away from you. Your hand that previously was around his balls instantly shot up, holding him by his buttoned shirt. The moment you pulled him in your direction, edging his cock even deeper in your tight, hot, slick mouth, he involuntarily bucked his hips, tip hitting the roof of your mouth.

You moaned with your lips around his shaft, and started to suck on it more intently. Hiromi’s head dangled back, his own desperate moans and whimpers coming muffled in between his teeth and bitten bottom lip. Both of his hands now stroked your hair, anxiously making a mess out of you, just as much you were making a mess out of him.

”I’m gonna c-cum... Can I... inside-- p-please-- m-my love, ohhhhh-- please... please”

To hear him beg desperately like that was definitely one of your favorite sounds in the world. 

You moaned back at him a muffled mm-hmm, and from his lips fell some louder whimpers, his fingers tensing around your head.

He came with a shiver shooting all throughout his entire body, warm spurts of his thick cum blossoming hot over your tongue, glazing your entire mouth and throat.

Your hand on his shirt tightened, crumpling it like paper, as you drank his essence in, swallowing down everything as your pumping over his length finally slowed down, his cock twitching under your touch to let out his final drops.

Letting go from his cock with an audible pop after your were finished, you looked up at him, and for a moment, you felt like you could cum from that sight alone. His flushed, loving, little fucked out face, smiling at you with those luster-filled ashy eyes. It was definitely a sight to behold. 

You rested your face over his thigh, longingly looking at him, and Hiromi’s hand cupped the side of your face.

“I love you, darling,” he cooed with a husky, low voice.

“I love you too, Hiro.”

Out of nowhere, though, his gaze slowly morphed, and his eyebrows shot up, as if Hiromi had remembered something.

“Hiro, is everything okay?”

“I think I just might have thought of a way to salvage this case.”

De-stressing really helped Hiromi with work, apparently, and you’d help him every time he needed to.

Gladly.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[sunrizef1]

Back in Japan

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: Not edited, cursing

Summary: You and Logan visit a restaurant and get your picture printed on the wall. Three years later, you’ve broken up and Logan’s right back where the picture came from.

Requested: Yes/No

“Have you ever been here before?”

Logan glances over at you, tilting his head to the side for a few seconds before shaking it, “No.”

He really hadn't. He didn't get around to Japan very often. The only reason he was here is because you wanted to visit during the off-season, trying to make the most of the rare break your boyfriend gets.

Logan notices the shiver that runs through you after his answer, the December air causing your shoulders to shake slightly. He reaches over, pulling you into his side. You shift closer to him, suddenly cursing your decision to wear such a thin shirt.

Luckily, the walk from the parking lot to the door of the restaurant is short, blessing you with a relieving respite from the cold winter breeze.

Logan, to his own discontent, untangles himself from around your shoulder after you've both walked in.

You're immediately greeted by a happy-looking older man, his hand coming up to wave at the two of you as you enter. Food stains line his apron and Logan can see a small notebook peeking out of his pocket, scribbles he can't really understand lining the pages. His glasses are fogged with steam, the man having to reach up to clear the lenses. The small name tag pinned to his shirt has Japanese lettering but, under it, there's what Logan assumes is the English translation, “Hiro.”

“Welcome! Welcome!,” Hiro shouts out as he walks toward the pair from out of the kitchen behind him, “Sit anywhere, please!”

Logan nods with a smile, turning as you grasp his hand and start to pull him through the restaurant, navigating around chairs and tables before coming to a stop at a booth in the corner.

You slide to one side and Logan sits across from you, his knees knocking against your now-crossed legs.

It's not much longer before Hiro walks up, setting two cups of water on the table along with two menus. He drops down two straws as well before he stands up straight, a large grin on his face, “Drinks?”

You smile politely, basking in the man’s joy, “I’m fine with water.”

Hiro nods before turning his attention to Logan who nods as well, “Water’s good for me.”

The older man nods, smiling politely before stepping back, “I’ll be back to take your food order in a minute.”

You both gleam, nodding as he walks away before turning to each other.

“Do you know what you want?” You ask your boyfriend, a grin settled on your lips.

Logan shakes his head, grinning as well, “No idea.”

You laugh, looking down at the menu in front of you. Logan just watches you for a few seconds, noticing the way you bite your lip as you focus on the words, eyebrows furrowed slightly in decision.

He does eventually look down as well, though, eyes drifting across the menu items. He honestly has no idea what to order, the pure spectrum of unknown items practically sending his brain into a spiral. But then his gaze is caught by an item he’d had a million times and he lets out a relieved breath. Sushi. He loves sushi. He decides he’ll just order that and then pick off your plate, knowing you’ll, no doubt, pick something he’d never had.

He’s proven right when Hiro comes back and he doesn’t recognize your order, wincing slightly as he’s forced to order sushi after you, making him really seem like the tourist he was.

When Hiro walks away to go put in your order, Logan looks up to see you holding back a laugh. When your own eyes catch his, you fall victim to your own humor, the giggle echoing out of your mouth.

Logan rolls his eyes playfully, leaning his elbows on the table, “What?”

You quiet slightly but your grin is ever-present as you explain, an occasional laugh spilling out of you, “You looked so awkward when you ordered!”

Logan huffs, leaning back and glancing around defensively, “Well how could I not be?! You ordered like a person of culture and I ordered sushi! Like a tourist!”

“You are a tourist!” You laugh, resting your own elbows on the table and leaning toward your boyfriend. There’s a sparkle in your eye as you say it, a sight Logan would never get tired of.

Logan scoffs, matching your posture in leaning on the table, “So are you!”

You laugh again, your eyelids falling closed as your head tilts up momentarily. When your head falls back and your eyes drift open, your met with your boyfriends smiling face, his slight laugh only fueled by your own.

Logan gazes at you for a few moments, basking in the happiness between you. You stare back, tilting your head as your eyes rake over his face. Logan’s pretty sure he’d do anything to stay in this moment forever, just watching your happiness.

After a few seconds, the warm moment starts to fade so Logan leans up, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before falling back into his seat and picking up his water, taking a long sip.

His affection seems to have frozen you as you still, eyes wide. Logan’s almost concerned but then you grin, cheeks heating as you lean back as well, picking up your own water to try and cool your face. Logan smirks.

Conversation flows between you smoothly, topics ranging from the upcoming season to your shared London home to your dog, Archer and even drifting to the topic of the most recent season of Love Island.

Eventually, the food does come, Logan being presented with your sushi and a bowl of what looks like stew of some sort is placed in front of you.

Logan watches you pick up your utensils first, biting into some kind of noodle that was in your soup, prompting him to pick up his own chopsticks.

You hum lightly as you take a sip of the broth in your bowl, smiling absently as you take another bite. Logan catches a piece of sushi between his chopsticks and raises it to his mouth, relishing in the taste of fish and rice hitting his tongue.

“D’ya wanna bite?” you manage to ask Logan through a bite of your stew, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you ask, attempting to retain some amount of etiquette.

Logan looks between your face and the bite of stew you're offering him a couple times, conceding when he catches your eye and you grin, “Sure.”

He leans forward and you hold the food up to his lips, pulling away as soon as he's got it. It takes a few moments for the taste to register in his mouth but when it does, he hums warmly, eyebrows furrowing.

“Good?” you question, your face lit up as you take in his response.

Logan nods, swallowing down the stew, “Very good.”

You look down, pleased, to dip your spoon back in and take a sip of the broth. You look back up as you sip it, smiling at your boyfriend who laughs and takes another bite of his own food.

You both sit at the table for another hour or so, finishing your food and scarfing down whatever dessert Hiro had suggested for you.

Logan practically scoffs when you try an pay, gently slapping your hand away. You roll your eyes but concede, leaning back with crossed arms as Logan looks your way, a satisfied look on his face.

“You ready to go?” Logan asks you once he's paid, quirking his head as he points his gaze your way.

You hum, nodding as you start to slide out of the booth. Logan stands up first, swinging an arm around your shoulder once you manage to get up. Your head falls onto his shoulder, a small hum escaping your throat.

“You tired?” Logan asks, steering you both away from the booth. You don't respond, simply nodding your head against his shoulder.

“Well, we’ll get out of here and head straight back to the hotel. You can even sleep in, we’re not doing anything tommorow morning.”

You hum again and Logan smiles at the thought of getting to sleep in with you for once.

As you both start to reach the door, you stop, causing Logans arm to slip off your shoulder. He's about to turn to the door and hold it open for you when he hears you call out.

“Wait, Lo, look,” Logan turns his head to see you gesturing widely at the wall next to the door. He concedes, slipping away from the door to stand back by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Your attention is still stuck on the wall so Logan looks as well, observing whatever had made you so attentive. He's met with maybe a hundred Polaroid pictures, all of happy friends and couples and families, grinning as they pose together. Logan glances over to see you staring at one specific photograph, a soft smile on your lips. He looks closer and sees that's its of an old couple, the mans arm wrapped around the woman as she places a kiss on his cheek.

“Thats so wonderful,” you practically whisper, eyes starry as you glance back over to Logan who smiles warmly.

You take one last look at the photograph of the older couple before you turn and practically launch yourself at Logan, giving him a tight hug before falling into his side. Logan, not exactly prepared for the hug, leans back slightly, laugh echoing from his throat.

As you turn, Hiro walks out of the kitchen, camera in hand. He holds it up with a gleeful grin, gesturing over your head to the wall you'd been staring at, “Do you two want to take a picture? For the wall?”

Logan can feel you straighten up, looking over to catch the excited look on your face, “We’d love to! Come on, Lo.”

Logan lets you turn him toward the camera, wrapping an arm around your waist as you lean into him. He glances over to Hiro, who's smiling widely at your obvious happiness. He holds up the camera and Logan smiles, face heating when you press an unexpected kiss to his cheek.

The camera flashes and you laugh slightly, pulling away from Logan who turns to press a kiss to the side of your head, trying to hide the red on his cheeks.

You pull away from the kiss, smiling when you see Logan’s flushed face. Hiro pulls the picture out, the picture developing quickly in his hand. You step away from Logan to watch Hiro stick it to the wall next to the picture of the older couple that you’d pointed out earlier.

“Ah, look, Lo!” Your bright grin practically forces Logan to walk over to you, the sight of your smile almost magnetic. He glances over as you point to the picture, admiring the way your picture almost perfectly mirrored the one next to it.

Logan lets out a small breath, lips upturning, “It’s cute.”

“Yeah, it is,” you laugh, turning your boyfriend away from the wall by the crook of his elbow, no doubt eager to get back to the hotel and sleep.

Hiro chuckles as you turn away, Logan leading you to the door. You turn your head to look back at the restaurants owner, bringing a hand up to wave, “Bye, Hiro! Thank you!”

“Of course, come back anytime!” Logan turns his head to nod politely at Hiro before he turns back around and steers you both out the door, sliding it open with the hand not wrapped around your torso.

The cold, night air immediately hits you both and you lean farther into Logan side, his hand moving to run over the skin of your shoulder in an attempt to warm you up a bit.

“Dinner was nice,” you say quietly, burrowing into your boyfriend’s side, “Thank you, Lo.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Of course, baby. Did you like your food?”

“Mhm,” you hum, stifling a yawn as you both reach Logan’s car. You stop in front of it but, instead of walking around to the passengers side, you turn to fully face Logan, “I love you.”

Logan’s face brightens and his cheeks heat as he looks down at the huge grin of your face. You reach your arms around his neck and lean into him, slightly swaying as he grasps your sides between his hands. Logan observes the content look on your face for a few seconds, simply grateful to be here with you right now.

“I love you too,” he finally responds, leaning down to capture your lips with his briefly before pulling away. You hum softly, looking at him with stars in your eyes. Logan’s pretty sure he could stay in this moment forever, swaying under the stars of the Tokyo night sky, your eyes on his face and his arms around your waist, “So much.”

You laugh, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and stepping away to walk to your side of the car, pulling the door open and sliding inside. Logan’s stuck to his spot, a stupid smile on his lips as he watches you walk away.

“You coming?” He hears your voice call from inside the car, causing his feet to actually move back toward you.

And when he falls asleep that night, your arm wrapped around him, he thinks that there’d never been someone so perfect for him.

——

“You ever been here before?” Oscar asks from the drivers seat, glancing over at Logan who’s sitting in the passengers side with a bored look on his face. They’d just pulled into the parking lot of some restaurant in Japan, the weekends race already practically forgotten in their minds.

Logan pockets his phone, having been staring straight down at it since Oscar had started driving. He glances up to answer his friend’s question, a denial already ready on his lips.

But, instead, he’s met with a familiar building in front of him, his brain fighting to push away memories he’d buried deep down over the past three years. He isn’t entirely sure how to answer the question, not wanting to lie but also knowing that if he tells the truth, Oscar would have questions about his previous visit. Questions he really didn’t want to answer.

So he settles for a half-truth, “Maybe, I don’t really remember much of Japan.”

He wasn’t exactly lying, he’d tried his hardest to not remember most of his time in Japan, the entire trip having your face intertwined in every building and street he passed.

Oscar hums, a small smile on his face as he turns the car off, “I went here last season. With my girlfriend.”

Logan nods, well-aware of the girl Oscar had taken a last-minute plane to Japan for after Suzuka last season. He’d been on the end of many a late-night text chains detailing just how into her he was. Considering Logan’s current relationship status, he sometimes honestly wished Oscar would turn these rants toward Lando. But, for the sake of friendship, he persisted.

As soon as Oscar kills the car, Logan steps out, hoping this would end Oscar’s relationship talk. It’d been three years since your breakup and being back at the restaurant was bad enough but if Logan had to hear Oscar talk about his persistent love life for the next two hours, he’d probably need to be admitted.

He hears the car door slam closed behind him and assumes that must be Oscar following him so he keeps walking, quickly reaching the threshold of the restaurant and pulling the door open. He turns back to face the parking lot as he holds the door open, half-hearted politeness seeping out of him. The only reason Logan’s holding the door open is to make up for his quick exit out of the car.

Oscar seems to be aware of Logan’s false-kindness, dramatically bowing his head as he walks by and into the building, “Thank you so much, Master Logan. How will I ever repay you for your kindness?”

Logan rolls his eyes, not even glancing at Oscar as he walks in behind him, eyes instead trailing over the rest of the space as he crosses his arm over his chest, “Shut up, man.”

Oscar huffs, smirking as he joins Logan in glancing around the room. His attention is brought back in front of him when Hiro’s familiar face walks up to them.

“Ah, I know you two! The American and the Australian!” Hiro exclaims, gesturing widely at the two, ��Sit wherever you like!”

Logan nods, walking away as Oscar stays to talk to Hiro for a few moments. Logan makes his way around a few tables, sliding into a far corner booth. Oscar does eventually get to the table, a grin splitting his face.

He falls into the booth opposite Logan, tossing two menus on the table, “Hiro gave me the menus, he was asking about my girlfriend.”

Logan hums, eyes not moving away from the menu that he’d picked up. He’s not entirely sure why he’s even looking at the menu, he knows he’s just gonna order sushi like he always does.

Oscar, on the other hand, seems entirely too interested in the menu, eyes continuously scanning back and forth over the pages in front of him. Logan rolls his eyes, shutting the menu and setting it down on the table.

They both order, Oscar going for something Logan had never heard of, which Oscar explains is some eel dish, and Logan choosing sushi like he knew he would.

Conversation passes lightly, talk of the season passing over the table as they wait for their food. The food arrives eventually, the pair digging into their respective dishes. Oscar feeds Logan a bite of the eel dish, which Logan is slightly surprised to find out he enjoys.

After they’ve finished, there’s a quick argument over who’s gonna pay for the meal, Oscar being the first to give up and let Logan cover it after Logan starts listing everything Oscar had paid for so far over the weekend and Oscar, not wanting to hear Logan ramble, concedes.

Once Logan’s paid, Oscar gets up quicker than the American, finding his way to the exit. Logan huffs, having to rush out of his seat to catch the Australian.

“Osc! Wait-" Logan rolls his eyes as he gets up, a few steps behind his friend. He steps quickly toward the exit, starting to rush to the door when something on the wall next to it catches his eye.

He turns his head, stepping closer to the wall. Hundreds of Polaroids splay out before him, covering the wooden planks of the wall. Swarms of smiling faces look back at him, memories of friends and family of the past all ingrained into the mural of photographs.

His eyes trail the wall, skipping across the pictures and landing on one familiar one. The picture is now surrounded on all sides, unlike how it’d been the last time he was here. The picture of the older couple is still there, their smiling faces causing a passive smile to break out on Logan’s face.

But on the other side of his photo is an unfamiliar picture but with oh-so familiar subject matter. Logan rolls his eyes, smile dropping when he notices that Oscar had gotten a picture of him and his girlfriend slapped right next to Logan’s. He’s not even sure how he’d managed that. It’d been over two years since the original picture had been taken and Logan thought there would’ve been someone else’s picture stuck in that spot. But apparently not.

Finally, Logan can’t help when his eyes drift to the photo in the middle, his face almost twisting into a grimace. He’s suddenly reminded of everything he’d forced himself to forget since your breakup.

He’d been pushing back every memory, having never fully gotten over you. He’d thought that if he just didn’t think about your relationship, it would eventually fade into the back of his mind and he could live in peace without you.

But now that’s he’s been forced to face what he’d been trying so hard to avoid, he finds himself missing you. Badly. He knows the couple in that picture were happy, happier than either of them had even been. He also knows that he’d grown since the breakup, grown into the person you’d wished he been all those years ago.

“Shit,” Logan forces himself to tear his eyes away from the picture, hands fumbling in his pocket for his phone as he rushes into the parking lot, Oscar having already wandered back to his car.

“You coming?” Logan hears Oscar shout from across the lot. Logan holds a hand up, pacing just outside the restaurant as he types frantically into his phone.

“Yeah! One second, man!” Logan replies, holding his phone up to his ear. Oscar seems to let this go, sitting back into the car and shutting the door.

Logan paces back and forth, hoping to god you’ll answer your phone. You should, considering it was the afternoon where you were. Or where you should be, at least. Logan is suddenly hit by the reality that he has no idea if you’d moved recently out of England. Or if you were on vacation that specific weekend, he’d never know.

He’s about to give up when the phone clicks and Logan’s head shoot’s up.

“Who is this?” Logan winces, the sound of your voice almost unfamiliar after so long.

“Hey,” he starts, trying his hardest not to sound stressed, “It’s Logan.”

“Oh,” you sound surprised and Logan can’t blame you. He really had no reason to be calling you, “What’s up Lo?”

The nickname sounds wrong coming from your mouth. But maybe that was just because it’d been so long since he’d heard it.

“I’m in Japan,” Logan runs a hand through his hair nervously, “With Oscar. We went to that restaurant, the one with the photos, I saw that picture of us.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments and Logan has to check that you hadn’t hung up.

But you do reply. Eventually, at least, “Yeah?”

He hums nodding even though he knows you can’t see him, “Yeah. And it made me realize that-“

He takes a deep breath. It was now or never. He had to do this now, before his confidence ran out or you got scared and hung up.

“I really fucking miss you,” he huffs, a small laugh escaping him as he finally admits it out loud. Really healthy that the first time he’d acknowledged the thought is him saying it to your face. Well, not to your face, but close enough.

With every moment that passes and you don’t reply, more and more dread fills Logan. He shakes his head, suddenly aware of how stupid this idea was. He’d just called you out of the blue after two and a half years, sounding just like a clingy ex-boyfriend. God, you’d probably moved on by now, you probably weren’t even single! He’d done nothing but freak you out and he, honestly, wouldn’t be surprised if you blocked his numb-

“I miss you too.”

Your voice is almost a whisper and Logan momentarily thinks he must’ve heard you wrong.

“What?”

“I miss you too, Lo,” your voice is clear this time, leaving no room for Logan to mishear you.

“Really?”

You laugh, the sound causing Logan to brighten and a huge smile to shape his lips, “Yeah, really. I’ve been watching your races just to see you. I’m proud of you, by the way.”

Shock at not being rejected is still coursing through the man, causing his brain to completely miss your admission about watching his races. He only hears that you miss him.

“Are you still in England?” Logan asks, thoughts and ideas sprinting through his head.

You hum softly, “Yeah, I am.”

The American grins, trying his hardest not to fist-pump, “Can I see you? When I get back?”

“I’d love that, Lo.”

Logan pulls the phone away from his mouth, whispering a quick “let’s fucking go” before he pulls the phone back to his face.

“Alright, I’ll see you then, yeah?”

He hears you chuckle, his own smile getting slightly bigger, “Yeah, you will. Bye, Lo.”

“Bye, y/n.”

The phone clicks again, turning dark as you hang up. Logan finally gives into the fist pump, trying his best not to skip as he moves across the parking lot.

He reaches the car and swings the door open, falling into the passenger seat unceremoniously.

Oscar sends a confused glance his way, not familiar with this level of glee from the American, “What’s your deal.”

Logan, too happy to give any attention to anything other than the text he’s about to send you, waves his hand passively, “Don’t worry about it.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, it seeming that the pair had switched roles in the past five minutes, Logan suddenly the happier of the two, “Whatever.”

Logan huffs, looking out the window with a loopy grin. His thoughts are stuck on the date he’s gonna take you on when he gets back to England, ideas coursing through his brain.

When he pulls out his phone to search for potential restaurants to visit with you, he finds himself looking for Japanese food.

——

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119 @c-losur3 @llando4norris @lokideservesahug

[kazumist]

DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS .ᐟ

✩ — in which you found yourself confessing to your childhood friend, soshiro. all thanks to the liquid courage you got.

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: reader is implied to wear makeup (but i didn't really use any gendered terms haha), ooc!hoshina i think.. uhm i wrote him differently here than how i usually write him ack TT. wc: 778. one (1) pet name used (bub). reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !!

“let’s get you home.” hoshina swings your arm over his shoulder as he places his arm around your waist to balance you in his hold. “huuuuh? have we met before?’ you ask as your words are slurred. you look at the man holding you, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him (though that doesn’t really help because nothing is really processing for you at the moment). “we’ve been literally friends since we were kids.” hoshina says.

“ehhhh? soshiro?! no way! you’re all… you’re all so grown up now!” you exclaimed. soshiro takes note of the blush on your cheeks, and the way you keep stumbling in your steps. although it’s rare, he just sighs as he confirms that you were absolutely drunk at the moment. “that’s because i ain’t a kid anymore, you silly.”

getting you back to your dormitory was a hard task, even for the vice captain of the third division. only because during your trip back you kept making random comments like how soshiro was almost as pretty as the moon (you were looking at a street lamp thinking it was the moon) and he could only hold back his laugh.

as hoshina settles you on your bed, he proceeds to remove your makeup from your face. knowing you this long was enough for him to become familiar with your routine when it comes to attending celebrations like these. he gently wipes the cosmetic products from your face, making sure to keep quiet because you finally slept.

well, apparently, you still woke up either way. “you know, hiro…” the nickname rolled off of your tongue perfectly—almost too perfectly, if soshiro must admit. only you could call him that; after all, you were the one who came up with that nickname for him anyway. you stared at him with half lidded eyes, too tired to fully open them. “you have a stupid face.” you finish.

hoshina found himself dumbfounded.

“eh?”

“but it’s my favorite face to look at.”

oh.

"i suppose i'm grateful for the compliment.” he pushes the hairs that were hiding your face aside and chuckles. “you should go home; i might do something stupid.” he tilts his side to the side in confusion. “like what?”

“like kissing you.” he froze.

surely, this is just the alcohol, right? soshiro wonders, surprised at your words as he held his breath. “or maybe i roll off of my bed and end up sleeping on the floor.” you continue. he lets out a sigh of relief. soshiro only kept his feelings for you to himself. though he’d casually make some gestures, and that’s good enough to question if you’re crossing the line between friends and lovers.

“you should sleep. you’re completely drunk right now.”

“i'm totally, absolutely not at all drunk at all. like... at all!”

“sure, and i’m not the vice captain of this division.” he receives a pout from you as you turn away from him. he laughs at your antics, gently shaking you as he apologizes. you refused to face him as you focused your gaze on the wall. liquid courage was no joke—because you somehow feel more confident to admit more... personal thoughts to the man who’s sitting behind you.

“hey, soshiro?”

“yeah? are you feeling a bit better now?”

“i… would you hate me if i said that i like you? like, you know… more than what we are right now.”

once again, hoshina froze. his breath hitched as he processed what you had asked. would you hate me if i said that i like you? your voice echoed in his head. you still refuse to face him but you know that he knows that he could see you right now. no, he wouldn’t hate you—hell, why did you think that he would hate you because of that in the first place? he would be ecstatic!

“can you face me for a minute, bub?” the pet name came off so smoothly—you were the only one he called that with. you hesitantly, roll to your other side, looking up to the man sitting on the side of your bed. you quickly avoided his gaze, but his hand pushes away your hair from your face again. “i wouldn’t hate you for that, but i’d rather not have this conversation when you’re drunk like this. so don’t forget this conversation, ‘kay? we’ll talk about it once you wake up. can you promise me to remember this, bub?”

“i promise. how could i… forget…” you trailed off. yawning in between your words before your eyes finally decided to rest themselves.

soshiro feels delighted that he has something to look forward to for tomorrow.

[carlsangel]

CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (PT.3)

(carl grimes x reader who’s on their period!)

tags: fluff! some suggestiveness:)

masterlist here!

(hi anon! i know u wanted a oneshot or preferences so i’m just writing hcs, hope that’s ok!)

✦ so you’d discover you were getting your period after intimacy with carl and when having an orgasm you feel cramps instead of pleasure. he would be scared he did something wrong and when he sees your nose crinkle as if you were in pain he’d immediately stop and ask you if you were okay. “did-did i do something? what’s wrong?”

✦ it’d result in a bath, he’d gently wash your hair and your body while giving you gentle kisses around. mostly your neck, shoulders, and arms…the occasional quick peck on the lips whenever you’d get a bad cramp.

✦ the next morning was rough, unfortunately you had bled through what you were wearing due to the position you were sleeping in but also onto the sheets below you. You’d wake up and be extremely frustrated and embarrassed that you did that in front of Carl but he instead felt horrible for you. He did his best to tell you that it was all okay and you weren’t gross and it’s just a bit of natural blood to clean up. “It’s just blood. Nothing we haven’t seen before.”

✦ he’d handle all the laundry while you showered and such but once you were out, he wanted to feed you. he would take you to the kitchen and get you all your favorite fruits in a bowl for your breakfast but whatever else you wanted too.

✦ when you and carl started dating, carl asked his dad and a couple of others for advice on how to make sure to keep you happy and one thing they all said was to make sure he’s prepared for your period; meaning he’d have to have your favorite snacks on hand and know exactly what you’d want to do so that you were comfortable.

✦ he’d let you eat while he prepared your next couple of hours together. he had a bag stored with the chips you like, along with chocolate bars or gummies. he laid out the comfiest/softest towel on the bed so you didn’t have to worry about bleeding on the bed again but he also prepared the TV in your guys’ room with the best movie that was in the house. because you deserve it. (also cause rick trained him to be literally perfect and that’s on good parenting.)

✦ anyway as the days go by you guys sort of just isolate in the house, rick and michonne sort of just let you guys be in the room except for when carl leaves to grab you stuff but they sort of tease him about it because it’s like you guys are married in a way. carl would leave the room and walk downstairs to grab you water, rick and michonne would be there and make fun of him. “how’s the wife?” He’d roll his eyes and explain how you’re doing while grabbing whatever you need. “she’s fine…a lil moody I guess.” he’d shrug and head back upstairs.

✦ he’d only let you wear comfy clothes, after every shower he’d pick out everything for you which consisted of his sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. not to mention he’d do his best to match with his own clothes cause he thinks it’s cute.

✦ he knows how much you love to go on runs so you’d insist to go on one during the week (your lightest day) and upon going you’d be fine but he would constantly be asking you if you needed anything or if you were feeling okay. you’d be exhausted by the time you were home so he’d continue to take care of you there.

a/n: heyyyy i actually love these sm i hope you guys do too :DD

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[reno11037]

Thinking back on my Naegami parent headcanon post I made while ago about Damon being Makotos and Byakuyas child, I posted it back when P;EG prolog just came out, I think

Anyway I wanna add another headcanon I have onto it :)

Basically I have a headcanon that after Makoto had risked so much to save them, the remnants started to be really close to Makoto. It’s to the point where it’s not rare to see Makoto with them whenever they all meet up, basically the remnants low-key adopted Makoto lol

So I imagine when Damon came into the picture, the remnants started to do the same with him. To the remnants, Makoto is their friend so that makes Damon their nephew, looking after him when ever Makoto was tired or whatever, one or a few of the remnants would look after Damon.

They’ve 100% stolen time from Kyoko, Aoi, Hiro, and especially Byakuya to be with Damon even tho he’s literally his father lol (Makoto had to make a chart so that the remnants can take turns looking after Damon and stop stealing everyone’s time with him (they still try sometimes lmao))

But if you remember, the remnants are ex-terrorists and literally insane, I imagine afterward they’ve gotten therapy and have gotten better but there still some crazy and unhingedness still lingering, which as time went on, slowly rubbed off on Damon

So now because off all that, sometimes Damon will say something, wether as a joke or seriously, so incredibly unhinged it takes you a second to realize what happened, it doesn’t happen often, only at random intervals, like a few times or going months without hearing it, it makes you question if it really happened or not

And Damon has NO idea cause all he knows, he’s not saying anything unhinged cause this is just how he was raised

So here have this I doodled as fast as I possibly could, I’ll let you decide if he’s joking here or not lmao

Also I didn’t know how to add this to what I wrote above so I’m adding it here lol

This gets even funnier if you ship Damon and Wolfgang like I do cause imagine being so against murder and crime and meeting your boyfriends family and one of his dads betrayed the government was considered a war criminal and the majority of the rest of his family are ex-terrorists lmao, what do you even do in that situation lol

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[bomber-grl]

heyyyy! :)) I love your headcanons! I thought of a cute idea :)) I was thinking how it would be like to be hiro’s twin sister and how that dynamic would be and if you’re comfortable adding it, can you add tadashi’s dynamic with hiro and the reader :)) Thank you so much! Hope you have a nice day

Hiro & Tadashi x Sibling!Reader

Pairing(s): Hiro x Twin!F!Reader, Tadashi x Sibling!f!Reader

A/n: Sorry that Tadashi’s hc is shorter than Hiros, this is the first time I’m writing for him 😭 also thought of being angsty and adding Tadashis death but decided against it, let me know if you’d like to see that though

You & Hiro

Hiro never had many friends his age growing up

It came with the territory of being too smart for his own good

His genius either intimidated others or made it impossible for him to communicate/ find shared interests with them

But you? You were a built in best friend

Even if you disagreed, fought, or even were complete opposites- he could never imagine not loving you

As cringe as that was for him to say out loud, you were his sister

You always had his back even if he was doing stupid shit, and he’ll always have yours

That’s the broad stuff, but if you’re not a kid genius like him then you’d be like the only around Hiro that’s not

It doesn’t really come up in your dynamic since Hiro couldn’t care less- especially since you’re mostly bickering about pointless stuff and going out to random places

But if you’re not really that well versed in math or science or any thing STEM then he might be shocked by it

Since he is)

I know I said that you not being a genius like him wouldn’t be a big deal but I guess it really depends on you

If you feel less than because of his accomplishments and this becomes apparent then he’d definitely address it with you

Especially if you have a more then average amount of sass in your replies to him when he’s talking to you

Also I think it’d be good to pitch in here- Cass would NEVER make you feel terrible, especially if you’re more into the arts or something else that is drastically different than what hiros into-

She’d be proud, no matter what too

If anything it’s likely stemming from insecurity

Hiro would definitely want to know what’s going on but if you’re being mean about it then he’d give some attitude back

He’d wanna comfort you but that doesn’t mean you can be shitty to him

Obviously you’re basically forced to let hiro know what’s up because he’s all up in your business

He’d feel pretty bad that you feel this way

He wouldn’t know how to outwardly react but he’d still wants to show you support

His actions change from then on too

He’d bring up your own accomplishments more often too

Now if you’re also a genius then you better believe there’s a lot of bickering going on 😭

A whole argument between the two of you over a political/scientific topic has to be put in like 0.5x speed by the average person because respectfully- what are yall saying

Especially in the beginning of the movie when Hiros “wasting” his talents bot fighting

You make your distaste for it so evident that during this period of time your and hiro were NOT friends

Even Tadashi had to calm you both down or else things would’ve gotten way out of hand

Either way you make up

You always make up

Even if it does take a little longer than usual…

You, Hiro & Tadashi

Really depends how he is towards you, and hiro by extension

Usually he’s the cool older brother you can look up to

But he could also be ever scolding and going on with a yappuccino you never ordered

Especially if you’re bickering with Hiro over something pointless

It’s honestly so annoying sometimes but you gotta listen because he honestly has some good advice sometimes

If this is a scenario where you’re pissed at Hiro wasting his talents then he’s more on your side

He doesn’t like picking sides but he does try to let Hiro know that he should do something worthwhile and something that’ll be beneficial to him long term

Then turns to you and dislikes how you tried communicating that

Even if sometimes he’s buttcheek towards you he’s the best

If you ever get in trouble with Cass or another person then he’s always there to bail you out of trouble

The same goes for hiro (obviously) and when you were younger you and Hiro would definitely fight over who got to hang out with Tadashi more

Tadashis the type of brother to be worried if you got in a fight and then celebrate that you won

Then you get an ear full about it

He keeps it a secret from Cass as long as you know why that was bad to do though

He definitely tries to feign being completely on your side about an argument occasionally just to tease hiro

Causing Hiro to roll his eyes at it and walk away, acting like he doesn’t know who you two are

Just for jokes and giggles yknow

Honestly you can’t tell me that Tadashi wouldn’t have tried embarrassing Hiro with brotherly affection on his first day of SFIT if he was there

And if you’re a genius that attends SFIT, you’d tag team him together

In the end of the day that could only ever be a fantasy for the reason we all know

[bumblebeehug]

How do you feel about Hiro M. continuing the story after 100YQ?

Murdery horribly and terribly.

No, that’s a lie, because it isn’t all that bad, but it’s my initial reaction.

Like in my opinion it’s a sign that he doesn’t like, or knows the public won’t like how the hyq is going or how it will end. Which worries me, yk?

When the hyq was the only thing that was left of the Fairy Tail franchise, I could lay my trust in Mashima making nalu canon: it’s the only missing cornerstone for a great story. But now? For all we know Mashima might scrap that.

I’m not saying that there’s only bad things to come out of a situation like this: I LOVE fairy tail, and continuing the story makes the fandom stay alive as well. But my problem is how Mashima’s gonna treat nalu again. Because, though I’m aware of the amazing writing we could be subjected for, I’m also painfully aware that Mashima won’t write it.

I love the hyq, but it’s kinda mid. Mashima doesn’t realise that he focuses too much on developing new characters and complicated plot elements for no reason — the characters he already has are plenty to work from (I’m talking about how he could write stuff for the FT guild, not just team Natsu, for sabertooth, for oracion seis, crime sorcerière, literally you name it). And I’m saying this out of love, because the original series shows us how great he can write — his character developments CAN be out of this world!!

Look at Erza when she goes from scary-evil-cruel-strict-boring to a loving, emotional, quirky friend who spreads more love than fear. Or look at Gray (and here I gotta give cred to Mashima for his writing in the hyq) bc he goes from angry, emo, snarky, nonchalant, rejects all signs of happiness to someone who can finally stand beside his friends and allow them to love him.

I could go on about character developments (like Laxus, Jellal, there’s so many) but this post is getting so long already so I’ll keep my point clear:

Mashima could focus on characters and write the best spin-off ever. But he won’t. And that’s the problem.

Mashima can’t write characters in a relationship to save his own life: look at how gajevy and elfever is treated (though these are kinda mild examples imo — a better example would be Shiki and Rebecca, how their relationship both developed and ended up: Shiki gave us like one (1) moment where he showed the readers his feelings, while Rebecca had to take the many many many other hints of them being a thing… not unlike how Lucy’s the one who has to set the status on her and Natsu’s relationship, and never Natsu.)

So since there’s a 0.001% chance that Mashima can write nalu in an active relationship (in EZ he solves that conundrum by killing the pair/avoid writing scenes with the pair/end the whole story, same with FT: keeping the love interest away most of the time to avoid having to write emotional scenes — jellal, juvia. Oh and he kills Mavis and Zeref. And he keeps away from writing elfever, well, ever, and he only writes what he deems absolutely necessary for gajevy. Even the whole Edolas thing was easy for him, bc he only had to write silly aftermath instead of actual emotional connection between two characters.)

This became SO long I’m so sorry. But my main worry really lies with the fact that nalu might be even further postponed, and I’m not really sure I can take another 20 years of this, yk?

[zmbiesoph]

how can I help?

Summary: Carl notices your picking at your skin and desperately wants to help

warnings: none really, unless your not comfortable with talk on skin picking, SHORT

word count: 342

you and carl were reading comics together like any other day. Today you’re in his bed reading a comic together. After a while, Carl realizes you’re not really paying attention and doing something with your arm. “Hey…. You ok?” He asks with a mix of curiosity and concern. You look to him and give him a reassuring smile and a small nod. “Yeah, I’m fine” you reply normally, he lets it go for a few minutes, but you just continue to do something with your arm. “Are you sure?” He asks again, filled with concern. “Yes. I’m fine Carl just continue reading” you say a little annoyed, you move your arm away from his view. For some reason your… ashamed of what your doing.

Carl notices you hiding your arm. “Show me your arm.” He demands. You hesitatly show him, a part of you worried he’ll get mad. He gently takes your arm. There’s small red patches all over it. He examines it, a little confused but mostly concerned. “…what… what is this?” He asks, you look away ashamed. “I… I just do this… and…. And it tingles a little… kinda hurts… and after it feels a little numb… I… I like it… it feels… good… I can’t stop…” you explain. He holds your arm gently and listens intently, filled with concern. “It… it hurts?” He asks, he doesn’t want you hurt. He hates when you’re hurt.

you give him a small nod. “B-but it’s fine.” You reply quickly. He shakes his head “it’s not. You need to stop” he says filled with concern. “…are you mad at me?” You ask him, his gaze softens. “Of course not.. I can never be mad at you… I just don’t like when your hurt. I care you about you so damn much.” He reply’s, that gives me a soft smile. He can’t help but smile back. “How can I help?” He says looking into your eyes with pure concern. “I’ll help you… I promise. I never want you hurt again.” He says with determination.

hi!!! I love this request and I hope I showed the syndrome well! Also thinking about making a master list but to be honest I don’t know how! My writing did not eat here😬

@carlsangel @rarllover3753 @txrasbae @hiro--aoki

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Timeline isn’t gonna match up or make sense so don’t think about it. This was for an OC I didn't care enough to fully flesh out. Kinda sorta post-canon (all Hashira alive). Little OOC so don't think about that either. Might do a part 2 with background. She/Her pronouns (I'm sorry. I'm lazy)

(Masterpost)

Tomioka Giyuu isn’t what you would call, active. In fact, the thought of him having a life outside the Demon Corps never crossed the Hashira’s minds (mostly because they didn’t think he had one IN the corps either).

He was early. Extremely early, actually. Tomioka was not the latest Hashira by any means but, up so early was, off, to say the least. Shinobu noted this when saying her ‘hellos’ to present Hashira. Tomioka, of course, stood off to the side, not making an effort to interact with anyone aside from a simple “Good Morning.” Even for the ever stoic Tomioka this behavior was weird.

“I guess he remembered us after all.” Shinazugawa hissed coming to the group. It was true that the last three meetings Tomioka had missed (granted they’ve all missed meetings due to work but never three in a row) and the thought of Tomioka slacking off and getting off scotch free added on to Shinazugawa’s ever-growing list of reasons to hate Tomioka.

“It must have been a hard mission.” Kanaroji chimed in.

This didn’t sway Shinobu or Shinazugawa. Shinobu knew it couldn’t have been missions for the last three months, Tomioka hadn’t stopped by the Butterfly Mansion once, not even to get ointment for aches and pains. Strong as they are, the Hashira are not invincible. In fact Tomioka hadn’t been badly injured since last spring. Shinobu knew all this. Even outside of missions Tomioka had just been missing overall. It’s like the silence was even quieter without him there. She peered over to Rengoku and Himajima who looked notably tired well- as tired as they possibly could -as they both lightly chatted with amongst themselves. Tomioka would say something back to them and then go back to staring blankly at the porch.

“He’s finally starting to slack off.” Obanai hissed from up high, the group now noticing he’s been here. “I hope he doesn’t think getting here early will absolve him.”

“Obanai you don’t mean Tomioka got here before you?” Shinobu teased

With a fluster shifting of his eyes, Obanai chose to glare at Giyuu rather than return her gaze. “I saw him coming from inside. Maybe Master snapped on him.”

Though they all doubted Master Ubuyashiki would ever raise his voice, the thought did fill Shinazugawa with momentary joy.

With the final Hashira, Muchiro, walking into the garden it was only a matter of time before the Master appeared. With the opening of the door, everyone’s head snapped up and voices hushed. Shinobu snuck a glance at Tomioka who seemed slightly off. He stood a little too straight and struggled to not ball his fist. Obanai’s theory suddenly seemed more plausible.

—

With the meeting concluded you could practically hear the sigh escape Giyuu’s lips as he walked to the porch. He could feel all the eyes on him as he stepped up there only to be stopped by Hinaki.

“I have to ask that you wait here.” She said calmly.

“But me and Hiro-“

“OI! Have some respect Tomioka!” Shinazugawa yelled. He approached the porch. “Who do you think you are to go around ordering people?!”

He caught Giyuu’s glare from on high. His unchanging eyes shifting back to Hinaki only angered Shinagawa more. “He’s looking down on me,” Shinazugawa thought this an act of war.

Glaring back at him, he said “It’s one thing for you to skip meetings but to disrespect the Master’s family.”

“I’m not disrespecting her, I had a question.” Giyuu replied plainly. He was feeling slightly annoyed and very fearful now. This was not how today was supposed to go. He turned back to Hinaki, “Please, we must be on our way-“

“You bastard.” Shinazugawa was already reaching to pull Giyuu off the porch (not wanting to beat him on the porch, that would be disrespectful). Giyuu was ready to draw his sword when the sound of footsteps alerted them all. Out from the door burst Kiriya and another small child. They maneuvered around Giyuu and Hanaki before Kiriya had tripped taking the small boy with him. Before they could launch themselves off the porch Giyuu caught one under each arm and held onto Hinaki’s collar to keep her from falling over.

He set the children down gently, “Forgive me please, Ubuyashiki-san.”

“No, thank you Tomioka-San.” Hinaki replied, graceful as ever. Lady Ubuyashiki was quick behind them to collect her son. Giyuu apologized once again.

“Hiroshi,” Giyuu turned back to the small boy. He stood slightly behind Kiriya with his head low in shame. Giyuu knelt down, “You should apologize to Lady Ubuyashiki and Hinaki.”

Big blue eyes filled with embarrassment the boy complied. Lady Ubuyashiki smiled kindly, “Please be careful next time you return.”

“He can come back?” Kiriya asked

“As long as Tomioka is okay with it.” She smiled kindly

“Of course.” Giyuu replied as the three kids waved off. “Come on, we’re going home.” The boy followed behind Giyuu quietly. He had a small round face and wild black hair sticking out in all directions. Following along, Hiroshi started to sniffle and finally stopped on the bottom step, tugging on Giyuu’s haori.

“What’s wrong?” Giyuu asked

“I’m sorry Papa.” He cried softly as Giyuu picked him up in his arms trying to soothe the boy.

“It’s okay Hiroshi, I know it was an accident but there’s two of you and only one Hinaki. She could have been hurt. Please be more careful.”

The boy nodded sniffling into his fathers shoulder.

The remaining Hashira stared in astonishment at the action. By the time he got his son to calm down Giyuu had finally noticed that he never left the garden and out the front of the home as intended. Still holding Hiroshi, Giyuu bowed his goodbye and left the garden. Before the rest of Hashira could finish processing what just happened Rengoku and Himajime also left quietly behind him.

—

The next meeting came about a month and a half later. This time Giyuu entered at his normal time with Muichiro coming afterwards. He actively stood apart hoping they all would have forgotten (they didn’t), and suffered silently as the many eyes bore into his head. 

It wasn’t just Giyuu, Shinobu was also shooting her glance to Himejima and Rengoku. Himejima was holding up well (surprisingly) but Rengoku was going to pop. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Tengen spent the last week and a half trying to break whatever secret Tomioka had about the same child out of him. An unstoppable force and an immovable object and all that. 

Giyuu was silently praying for this meeting to end soon and end this mental game all the Hashira were taking part in. He had already prepared an exit tragedy to get out with the least amount of questions. He looked at Rengoku and Himejima. The game plan was set and they just need to be ready to go.

You could feel the tension ease when Master Ubuyashiki called the meeting to a close. They all stood quietly, paitiently waiting for him to go inside before all hell broke loose. And just as the door closed Lady Ubuyashiki called out, “Tomioka-San. A word please.”

Rengoku was screaming on the inside as Giyuu looked over to him briefly. Tengen hardly waited for Giyuu to take a single step, “How come you two got to know but we didn’t?”

“A secret child Tomioka?” Shinobu called out “You must not like us if we didn’t get to know.”

“It’s not that…” Giyuu finally broke his silence. He reached for the door when it suddenly swung open and the little pitter of footsteps was heard. Giyuu jumped back and was quick to catch the small figure barreling towards him, “Hiroshi!? What are you doing here?”

“Mama hurt her feet.” Hiroshi replied like it was obvious. All heads snapped to the door and out stepped a woman on a pink kimono.

“(Y/N)?” He looked surprised.

“Ah, Giyuu!” She peered up walking over to him 

“What happened?” He stepped closer to hold onto her waist.

“Just some sores and aches. Lady Ubuyashiki has been so kind.” She turned to both of them “It’s been in honor in your presence.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lady Tomioka.”

And that’s what broke the string holding all together. The family wordlessly walked off the porch and headed to leave..

Shinobu called out “T-Tomioka?!”

“Yes?” Said (Y/N) and Hiroshi as all three turned to face them.

“Oh! Rengoku-San, Himajime-San! So good to see you both.” (Y/N) smiled

Himejima finally exhaled as both men walked over to greet (Y/N). Both of them gave Giyuu an apologetic look. Hiroshi looked over their shoulders to the remaining Hashira still in a daze. Looking at them side by side there was no denying it. Hiroshi is identical to Giyuu, just smaller and with the cutest round face that Mitsuri just had to gush over.

“You are so cute! Like a mini Tomioka!” She squealed. 

“Your hair looks like mochi!” Hiroshi stayed proudly. “Mama, can we get mochi!” 

(Y/N) smiled, “That sounds like our que. It was an honor to meet you all.”

The family walked out the garden, with Rengoku and Himejima sneaking out with them.

“What the fuck just happened?” Shinazugawa broke the silence.

—

The next meeting was well over two months and the pillars were determined to not let Giyuu go without answers. Especially since he’d recently had to heal up at the Butterfly Mansion while Shinobu was out. Before he could even think of leaving they had him cornered, Obanai watching over Rengoku and Himejima.

“When were you gonna tell us you were married?!” Uzui shouted

“No one asked and I’d rather have a small wedding…” Giyuu answered plainly.

“What about your ring then?”

Giyuu pulled down his collar to show a silver ring on a chain tucked into his undershirt.

“How did you two find out then?” Obanai hissed.

“Tomioka requested I accompany him on a mission so he could be home earlier,” Himejima stated.

“I had an urgent matter with the Master and happened to meet them all as they were leaving.” Rengoku said.

“Wait so Master knows too?” Mitsuri asked

“Yes, they were at the wedding.” Giyuu replied.

“You are unbelievable.” Shinazugawa muttered. “How were you able to get married?”

Giyuu didn’t seem to have an answer. It’s something he thought to himself many times but when (Y/N) smiled at him he always forgot about it. Before he could try to answer, he heard (Y/N) calling out to him. The Hashira were surprised to (Y/N) walk up in a demon slayer uniform and golden checkered haori. She smiled and bowed to the Hashira, “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No, I'm done here.” Giyuu replied.

“Wait, Tomioka!” Shinobu called as they turned to leave.

“Yes?” They both answered to Shinobu’s annoyance. They did it again.

(Y/N) nudged Giyuu forward as she assumed they meant him. Uzui cut in, “We only wanted to officially meet you, Lady Tomioka.”

“Oh!” (Y/N) smiled “I’m honored to meet you all, I am Tomioka (Y/N), (Y/N) is fine.”

“It's so good to meet you! How long have you and Giyuu been together?” Mitsuri asked, the only genuine person in all this.

“I’ve known him since I joined the Corps, we met while I was on my way to a job, it was in separate areas but we met up on the way back.” (Y/N) answered recalling their younger years.

“We’ve been married for five years.” Giyuu answered. The Hashira took note that their son looked about that age. It took all of Uzui’s strength for him to not comment on it.

“How sweet!” Mitsuri cheered “I had no idea you had such a happy family Tomioka!”

“We try not to talk about it,” (Y/N) smiled. A lot more open than Giyuu but (Y/N) also enjoyed their privacy. “Up until now, only Master Ubuyashiki knew. Hiroshi and Kiriya became good friends.”

The Hashira had a million other questions but they tethered on inappropriate or just plain mean. Out of respect for Lady Tomioka, they held themselves together. The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them. They were happy though. The couple said their goodbyes and turned to leave. The Hashira saw the tension lift off Giyuu’s shoulders as he smiled with his wife.

“Why must we question Tomioka,” Himejima spoke once they left. “Lord Uzui is married with three wives.”

“Yeah but that was before he joined the corps,” Sanemi said “We didn’t know him then, we know Tomioka- barley. He’s a fucking buzzkill and he has a sweet woman that not only married him but slept with him at least once!?”

With those “graceful” last words they parted for the evening.

[libraryofolive]

cloudy days

featuring: Hiromi Higuruma x gn!reader

genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 729

synopsis: Your husband comforts you when the negative aspects of life get a little too much.

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

It was eerily quiet when Hiromi Higuruma returned home from work one cold, wintery evening. His suit jacket had a smattering of rain drops across his shoulders - he was lucky enough to only be caught in the ongoing rainstorm for the short walk from his car to the apartment building. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, sighing deeply as he removed his shoes, as if expelling that deep breath would also remove the stresses of the day. He called your name out softly into the dark apartment, but received no answer. Odd. You always greeted him when he got home, it was one of his favourite parts of the day. Coming home to a warm apartment, being greeted by your even warmer smile, it was enough to make him forget about everything else in the world. He called your name out again, louder this time, but still no response. Then he heard a sniffle coming from your joint bedroom.

He knocked on the closed door. “Sweetheart?” He asked gently, “Can I come in?”

“Hiro?” You voice was muffled through the wooden door, but he could hear the sadness in it. He pushed the door open, peering through the small crack he made. You were sat on the bed, huddled in piles of blankets that dwarfed your figure. Your eyes were puffy, cheeks stained with tears. You had been crying for a while, intending to take a shower and clean yourself up before your husband got home, but evidently time had gotten away from you as your emotions overflowed and overwhelmed you. You looked up at him, fresh tears glinting in your eyes and mouth pulled down into a frown. Your lip trembled as a new round of sobs racked your body, causing Higuruma to rush into the room, sitting on the bed next to you and pulling you into his side, under his arm. You leant into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it, my love?” You shook your head furiously. “I’m here for you, always. You can talk to me about anything, honey. I love you, I want to help you.” He rubbed small, comforting circles into you waist, heart breaking at the sight in front of him. What could possibly make you so distraught? Ever since the two of you met, you had been this positive light, shining brightly onto everyone around you. To him, you were sunshine incarnate, and he wanted nothing but to bask in your rays of warmth for the rest of his life. So when he saw you like this, his sun hidden behind a dark cloud, tears streaming down your cheeks like rainfall, he couldn’t help but share your sadness.

“I just-” Your words were broken with sobs as you struggled to form them, “I don’t know.” You cried.

“Don’t know what, love?”

“Don’t know why.” You rubbed your face harshly, frustrated that your tears wouldn’t stop falling. Your husband wouldn’t have this, though, so instead gently took hold of your hands with one of his and kissed them, bringing them down to his lap and not letting go of you.

“It’s okay, honey.”

“No- I- I don’t know. I was fine! Then I came home, and I just - just broke down.”

“Life catches up to us all like this, baby. You don’t have to worry about the why just yet. Let it all out, yeah?” He brought your head into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“’m sorry, Hiro.” You mumbled into his sturdy chest.

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Hiromi kissed the top of your head lovingly.

“Not cooked.” You admitted.

“Don’t go and worry about that. Why don’t we order in your favourite, yeah? As a pick-me-up?” He tucked one of his hands under your chin, slowly lifting it so he could look into your tear-lined eyes. You smiled slightly at his suggestion, nodding. “There’s that lovely smile. I’ll go order, yeah? Why don’t you go and wash your face, and we can cuddle on the couch.”

“Love you.” Your words were barely audible, yet your husband heard them loud and clear.

“I love you too, sunshine. More than you could possibly know.”

[sofya-fanfics]

Valentine's Day Party

Fandom : Fairy Tail

Relationship : Natsu x Lucy

My Be My Valentine challenge 2025 contribution for the prompt : Dancing.

I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.

Summary : Lucy looked at Natsu and blushed.

“Natsu, do you want to go to the party ?”

“Okay.”

He had answered her without hesitation with a huge smile. Lucy smiled. She was happy that he had accepted. She had wanted to ask him to go with her for days, but each time she did not dare say anything, she was afraid that he would refuse. She only had a short time left before the party and she had to gather all her courage to ask him.

Disclaimer : Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima.

@bemyvalentinechallenge

AO3 / FF.NET

Lucy tried to look through a window of the guild, but she could not see anything. The building was closed for the day to prepare for the Valentine's Day party. When she had arrived, Mirajane had stopped her from entering, saying that all members were forbidden to enter until the evening. This had only made Lucy more curious. She stood on her tiptoes to try to see better.

“What are you doing ?”

She jumped and looked at Natsu and Happy.

“Nothing.”

She smiled, looking innocent, but her smile was so tight that even Natsu could see she was lying.

“It looks like you were trying to see what Mirajane is up to.”

Lucy turned to the window and stood on her tiptoes again.

“Aren't you curious ?”

“She does this every year. You'll get used to it eventually.”

Lucy sighed and gave up on trying to see something. She knew that Valentine's Day was Mirajane's favorite day, mostly because she could interfere into people's lives and play matchmaker.

Lucy had not been able to attend the party the year before. She had gone on a mission with Team Natsu. Even though she really wanted to attend the party, she could not refuse the mission. She had been paid very well and she had been able to give the rent she owed to her landlord. But this time, she was determined to go. She looked at Natsu and blushed.

“Natsu, do you want to go to the party ?”

“Okay.”

He had answered her without hesitation with a huge smile. Lucy smiled. She was happy that he had accepted. She had wanted to ask him to go with her for days, but each time she did not dare say anything, she was afraid that he would refuse. She only had a short time left before the party and she had to gather all her courage to ask him.

“Shall we meet up tonight ?”

Natsu nodded and Lucy went shopping. She had to find a dress for the party. She wanted to get ready for her date with Natsu. She looked at the time and quickened her pace. She did not have much time left.

******

Lucy walked happily to the guild. She had bought a pretty red dress that came above her knee. It was low-cut but not so much that it seemed provocative. It was both simple and elegant, ideal for a date. She had put on makeup and she had curled her hair. She had followed step by step a hairstyle she had found in a special Valentine's Day magazine. She hoped that Natsu would find her pretty. Lucy arrived at the guild. She saw Natsu and...

“Happy ?”

It's nothing, she thought. He must be waiting for Carla. Natsu waved at her.

“Hey Lucy !”

“Wow, you pulled out all the stops,” Happy snickered.

Lucy blushed, embarrassed.

“I didn’t !”

“Let's go !” Natsu declared.

He took Lucy's hand and they entered the guild. Lucy opened her eyes wide. Mirajane had outdone herself. There were roses, red and pink balloons, heart-shaped garlands hanging on the walls, a buffet and a chocolate fountain. The center of the room had been transformed into a dance floor.

“This way, Happy !” Natsu exclaimed.

“Here we go !”

They both rushed to the buffet and helped themselves. Lucy frowned.

“Happy, don't you have a date with Carla ?”

“I asked her, but she didn't want to come.”

“I asked the team, but Wendy stayed with Carla, Gray wanted to go with Juvia, and Erza with Jellal.”

Lucy opened her eyes wide.

“You asked the team !”

Natsu nodded and bit into a chicken leg.

“You didn't want us all to go together ?”

“Yes... Yes, that's what I wanted.”

Lucy lowered her head, disappointed. For Natsu, it was not a date but an outing with friends. She apologized before walking away. Natsu and Happy would not notice her absence, she thought. They were too busy devouring the buffet. She headed for the door and left the guild to go home. There was no point staying anymore.

******

Natsu watched Lucy walk away, surprised.

“What's wrong with her ?”

“I think she thought it was a date.”

Natsu opened his eyes wide. He was so surprised that he almost dropped his plate.

“She didn't specify !”

“It was implied. Sometimes you can be really stupid.”

“You didn't understand either”, Natsu was offended.

“How could I have known, she didn't ask me !”

Natsu looked at where Lucy had gone. He had to do something to fix the situation.

******

Lucy opened the door to her apartment and entered. She had been looking forward to the party and had gotten ready, but now she felt really stupid. She should have guessed that Natsu only wanted to go as friends. She turned on the light and jumped when she saw Natsu in the middle of the room.

“How did you manage to get there before me ?” She asked.

“Happy took me. Why didn't you tell me it was a date ?”

“I thought you understood.”

“You should have specify.”

“Anyway, it wouldn't have changed anything.”

“It would have changed everything.”

Lucy blushed. She had never seen Natsu so determined.

“We still have time to go to the party,” he said. “And this time it will be a real date.”

Lucy smiled. They returned to the guild. They had spent the night dancing, laughing, having fun. This Valentine's Day party, that had started badly, had been the best party for Lucy. Especially when Natsu had taken her back to her place and they had kissed before parting ways.

The end

[sakkashouichi]

𝒩𝒾𝒾-𝓈𝒶𝓃

reader: female to male transgender

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥

ᴄᴡ: ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ, ʏ/ɴ, ɴ/ɴ, ʏ/ɴ-ᴋᴜɴ, ɴɪɪ-ꜱᴀɴ, ɴɪɪ-ɴɪɪ, ᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ, ʀᴇᴅꜰʟᴀɢ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ, ᴘᴜꜱꜱʏ, ᴄᴜɴᴛ, ᴄʟɪᴛ, ᴅɪᴄᴋʟᴇᴛ, ꜱQᴜɪʀᴛɪɴɢ

˚ ₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊ ˚

You were glad you got something to do today; your friends were the perfect distraction from all of the stress school and exams were doing to you. You laugh as your friend, Kenzo, drives off the map. “I thought you were the king of Mario Kart, Kenzo?“ You tease, grinning as Kenzo huffs and whines about cheating. Your other friend, Hiro, snickers at Kenzo’s whining and shoves him playfully. “Don’t be such a baby, Kenzo.“ He teases, “It’s just a game.“ At that, Kenzo whines more, grabbing for Hiro’s controller to get him to mess up.

You grin watching them struggle and quickly use it to your advantage to win the game. When they notice, they groan, “You’re such a cheater, y/n!“ Kenzo whines, throwing a candy wrapper at you; it falls short and sadly hits the ground a few inches from your knee. Hiro joins in, throwing his candy wrappers at you while whining about cheaters. You laugh softly and set your controller down to gather up the mess of wrappers. “I’m going to throw these away; do you guys want anything?“ You stand as your friends chant for popcorn and more Coke.

When you make it to the kitchen, you hardly notice your stepbrother, Choso. He watches you carefully as you throw away the trash, getting increasingly irritated by the sounds of your friends laughing and talking loudly from the kitchen. Didn’t they know how rude and annoying they were being? stealing his little brother away from him when Choso was supposed to have you all to himself. He’d been waiting all week for your parents to take this trip, coming up with all sorts of ideas on what to do with you and to you while they were out.

You were his precious otouto; after all, no one was allowed to have you but him. Yet, here your friends were, too pathetic little boys who had no idea how special you were or how you were to be treated. He taps his fingers on the marble countertop as you root through the fridge for the drinks your friends requested, and when you close the fridge and notice Choso, you flinch, caught off guard. “nii-san? How long have you been there?“ You fidget with the cans as you watch your big brother. “As long as you’ve been ignoring me.“ He frowns, hurt slipping into his tone. He watches gleefully as your expression changes, dropping to regret.

“I’m sorry, nii-nii." You pout childishly, and Choso can hardly resist. He loves watching you pout, your cute cheeks puff up, and your pretty lip stick out. He stands up from his seat and stalks around the counter toward you. You back up until your back hits the edge of the counter, but Choso persists, setting his hands on the counter on either side of your smaller body. He looks down at you impassively, his face betraying none of the swirling emotions inside.

You were his; no one should be able to make you laugh but him. He wants to scoff at your friends for making you get their drinks, but he also wants to praise you for being a good host. But you’re always good, always doing these kinds of things for other people, and Choso’s sick of it. He wants you to be greedy; he wants you to be hard for other people to love and for you to need him; to demand him of things and make him do everything for you; you deserve to be spoiled by him. “You can join us, nii-nii… I don’t like it when you make yourself lonely…“ You avert your eyes, and Choso’s heart throbs in his chest.

You’re just so perfect, so sweet, and so innocent. How could you have known what he truly wanted and why he’s so lonely all of the time? No one is good enough for his attention but you, his precious otouto. His hand grazes your cheek, and his façade cracks; he could never be mad at you for too long. His brows relax and his eyes soften as a small, affectionate smile spreads on his face. “sweet y/n-kun…“ His tone is softened, like his face, but it hides something threatening.

He wants you to dismiss your friends; you don’t need them; you need him, your nii-nii. “You don’t have to invite me because I look lonely,“ he chides gently. He doesn’t tell you to dismiss your friends; he’ll just have to teach you more manners later. Choso knows it isn’t your fault you act so careless about these things; you’re too naïve to realize what you’re doing to him. “If you did that to someone in the real world, they’d think you were being rude.“ His eyes narrow as you sweat; the look of realization on your face is too precious for him to miss.

“What did Nii-nii teach you about that? Do you remember?“ Choso knows you’d never forget your nii-san’s lessons; he made sure of it the first time you made this mistake. Satisfaction burns in his gut as he watches your cheeks go pink, remembering how he’d edged you until every word was burned into your memory. “S- sometimes, naiveté can be mistaken for patronizing.“ Choso grins as you recall his words. He loves it when you say things he says, when you remember things he says, or when you think about him at all. “Good boy.“ Choso murmurs, his fingers pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face.

His fingers run through your hair, his nails combing over your scalp, until his hand reaches the back of your head. There, he gently threads his fingers through your hair. He always goes with you when you get it cut, if it were up to him. Choso would just cut it himself, but his mom likes taking you to that shop. He always makes sure it's long enough for him to tug on, not that you’d cut it any shorter.

Choso knows you like it just as much as he does. Choso watches the subtle bob of your throat as you swallow, his sharp eyes drawn to every twitch your body makes. He tangles his fingers there and gives your soft hair a gentle pull, watching in satisfaction as your eyelids flutter and your cute lips part. “You love listening to nii-nii, huh?“ He murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the corner of your pretty mouth. “You love getting rewarded, don’t you, baby brother?“ Choso’s own lids flutter closed at the feeling of your soft breath on his cheek.

You have so much control over him, it's scary. He’s lucky you have no idea how to utilize that. A part of him finds it exciting, the idea of you being in control. But the more intact parts of Choso find it a little daunting. God knows what you’d do with that if he ever made you upset.

Your soft whimper draws him out of his head, his eyes open again, and he meets your flushed, blissed expression. How could he ever want to upset you when this is how you look like you’re taken care of? He smiles again and trails his kisses down your neck. His fingers in your hair relax, and he scratches gently at your scalp, soothing the possible ache. You both flinch when you hear a sharp laugh from the living room.

Choso pulls off immediately and looks over his shoulder at the doorway between them and your friends. He frowns when you tense up against him, and he looks back down at your troubled expression. Distaste for your friends swirls in his gut as you push him away. “What are you doing, y/n-kun?“ He crosses his arms over his chest as you gather your friends’ drinks and prepare to make your exit. “Kenzo and Hiro wanted coke.“ You flush awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as you hurry from the kitchen.

Away from him, Choso notes it distastefully. “Tch-“ Choso scoffs, his gaze falling from the doorway. His expression falls, his brows furrow, and his frown deepens as your voice filters in from the living room. Choso leans back against the counter behind him, and his eyes pick up from the floor, searching the room for something. His eyes get caught on the empty bowl and bag of popcorn on the counter, and he grins. Choso fixes himself and walks over to lean against the doorway.

He has to bite the inside of his cheek when he sees one of your little friends, Kento or Kenzo or… whoever. Choso didn’t care at all—not until he registered your friend touching you. He bites down harder on his cheek, trying to school himself and not blow up. “N/n, you forgot the popcorn on the counter.“ All eyes snap to Choso, and once he finishes his statement coolly, your friends light up and look at you as you flush.

They tease you for forgetting as you get up to go back into the kitchen, and once you are alone again, Choso pins you against the counter. He waits as patiently as he can while you shakily put the bag of popcorn into the microwave and hit the correct buttons. Choso can't resist breathing down your neck; the way your body tenses and shifts when his hit breath grazes the hairs on your neck sends waves of satisfaction throughout Choso’s body. No one is ever going to make you feel like this; no other man, woman, or thing will compare to Choso. He’s ruined you for anyone else, and he takes extreme pleasure in it.

“N-nii-nii, my friends,“ you start, but your worry falls on deaf ears. You know better than to think something as pathetic as that will keep Choso off you. “Don’t be disrespectful, y/n-kun. Aniki deserves your attention first.“ Choso rumbles, his voice low enough to send shivers down your spine. as you shudder against him. Choso leans down to press his lips against your neck, humming in satisfaction when your hands fly up to stifle your whimper.

“That’s it, baby brother; let nii-nii play with you too.“ Choso murmurs against your soft skin before sinking his teeth into the flesh there. He doesn’t bite hard enough; your father would probably beat him to death if he found out Choso was doing this with his only son. But Choso couldn’t help it; he pulled it off when just the indent of his teeth were left. It was a temporary mark, but Choso can always give you more. “You wouldn’t want nii-nii to mark you up anywhere visible, would you, y/n-kun?“ He hums, his hands sliding up your shirt to feel your soft belly.

“You, papa, might think you were a slut.“ He grins at your whimper; he never likes inflicting distress on you, but when you push him to do it, Choso enjoys every second. His hands sneak higher up your soft skin, but when he feels the rough fabric of your binder, he stops, not wanting to make you upset. “You’re going to let nii-nii play with you, okay?“ He murmurs hotly into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses down until he reaches the collar of your shirt. Choso grins when your skin pebbles, goosebumps littering the soft surface of your flesh. His hand slips further up your chest and pulls at the collar of your shirt so he can suck marks into your shoulder. His other hand slips down to your waist, pulling you back against his bulge.

He sighs when you try to squirm away, and he uses his grip on you to pull you flush against him. “Don’t pull away from me, y/n-kun; be a good boy like I taught you.“ He understands why you’re so hesitant; the popcorn isn’t letting either of you listen for your friends, but Choso doesn’t think he could care less. He hates feeling needy and neglected, and that’s exactly what you were doing earlier. Choso needs you to know you can't neglect him and get off unscathed. “Neglecting people who care about you is bad, y/n-kun,“ he chides, grinding his bulge against your ass.

“Nii-nii can be mean and teach you how to multitask, but something tells me you wouldn't want that, hm?“ Satisfaction burns in his veins when you shake your head. You had no idea what he’d do in that situation, but you know you don’t want to find out. “You have to be quick, nii-nii.“ You whimper behind your hands. Choso has half the mind to rip your hands from your mouth and make you scream for him, but he’s too nice for that. Instead, he settles for slipping his hand beneath your pants to trace your pussy lips through your already-soaked underwear.

“Your body says otherwise, y/n-kun.“ He tuts condescendingly, “Do you not want Nii-Nii to take his time?“ He knew you wouldn’t understand the stakes of the question, and he was going to use that to his advantage. He relishes the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing around his hand, and he presses closer, his middle finger swiping up the soft heat of your slit and lightly circling around your engorged clit. When you moan behind your hands and shake your head, Choso bites down on your shoulder, over the blooming hickies, just to feel you tense up. Your clit throbs as his finger works in light circles, not providing you with enough friction to feel any satisfaction. “Please,“ you hiccup, "please, what y/n-kun?“ Choso murmurs against his bitemark.

“Tell Nii-Nii what you need.“ You shake your head, and he puts more pressure on your clit. “Don't take your time.“ Choso grins, catching you in his trap. “If you say so.“ He sings songs, pulling down your pants and underwear while his other hand pulls out of your shirt and pushes your front flat to the counter. “Nii-nii will be fast.“ He’s a little upset that he won't get to see your face, but the feeling of your soaked pussy against his naked cock as he pulls it free from its confines is too great for Choso to spare a second thinking about anything but your tight cunt and his sweet revenge. Without wasting time, he pushes in.

Choso knows it must hurt, but the feeling is too great for him to care. His cock finds home buried deep into your pussy, and Choso hardly stays put for long, pulling out to his tip just to sink back into your heat. Your noises are divine; they’re muffled, but Choso still revels in them. He’s the only one who gets to take you like this and who gets to hear those sweet noises. He catches himself sitting still, savoring your warmth, but he snaps himself out of it, commencing with his plan to utterly derail you. He ignores you.

You scramble against the counter, one hand desperately trying to find something to grab on while the other stays firmly planted over your mouth as he fucks your pretty cunt carelessly. His hands grip tightly onto your hips, pulling your body back against him to meet his punishing thrusts. He ignores your hand when you try to reach back to push him off. If anything, it just makes him fuck you harder, pounding his cock into your heat. Luckily, the sounds of the popcorn, the TV, and your friends were loud enough to disguise the sounds of your coupling, but he could tell you were panicking, no doubt watching the seconds tick by on the microwave.

Choso grabs your wrist, pinning your arm behind you as he fucks your sweet pussy. “You want me to stop y/n-kun?“ Choso leans down to pant against your neck. You nod rapidly, trying to fight the sensation of your big brother fucking your pussy. “Beg for it.“ Your brows furrow and tears come to your eyes; nii-nii wasn’t being fair. You didn’t want to open your mouth for fear of being too loud, but as you watched the timer count down the seconds, you became increasingly panicked. “P- please nii-nii.“ You choke out behind your palm.

“Hm? I can't hear you, baby brother.“ He nips your earlobe, and your brows furrow harder, tears rolling down your cheeks. It feels too good. The telltale heat of your impending orgasm coils low in your gut, getting tighter and tighter as seconds tick away. “nii-san please!“ You whine louder—apparently too loud apparently. One of your friends shouts from the living room, asking if you’re okay, and Choso huffs evilly, his arm looping under yours to lift your chest off the counter.

“Tell them, y/n-kun.“ You take a steadying breath and begin to move your hand from your mouth, but Choso’s hips piston faster. You hiccup and cover your mouth again. “unh!“ Your eyes roll back in your head, and Choso chuckles sadistically before speaking for you. “We’re fine; your popcorn will be done in a minute.“ He shouts back, your thighs trembling, the coil in your gut winding tight before releasing. “Nii-san!“ you hiccup into your hand, squirting on his cock.

Your juices soak your underwear and pants, getting all over Choso’s cock and the front of his pants as well. Choso grunts, his cock gives a rough twitch before following you, and he presses deep into your cunt, forcing his cum as deep as it would go. He pants, holding your limp body against his chest. “You made such a big mess,“ he teases weakly, pressing a litany of soft kisses to the sides of your face and jaw. He lays you back on the counter as he pulls out, pulling your wet pants and underwear off.

He helps you back into your less ruined pants, tossing your underwear in the direction of the laundry room. They hit the floor just past the door with a wet slap. and the microwave beeps, startling you both. Choso rubs his chest where his heart is, trying to calm the rapid beating as he opens the microwave and dumps popcorn into the bowl. His pants are fucked; thankfully, they’re black, so it wouldn’t be noticed easily.

The hem of his shirt is only kind of wet, but he could play it off as spilling something. You mumble weakly from where you’re half-laid on the counter, and Choso chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “I'll take it to them; you relax, y/n-kun." He watches amusedly as your body sags against the countertop before taking the popcorn to your friends.

[check out my ko-fi]