˳ ׄ ⟡ . part of an au where reader is a stripper ❤︎
higuruma hiromi smiles, awestruck and hidden from your view — you lay on his arm, naked with his sheets covering your breasts, his hand in both of yours.
“really?” he asks, incredulous.
“yes,” you laugh softly, trace your thumb over the scar in between his thumb and index finger. “you’re very gentle with me — very soft. and it all feels foreign.”
his luxurious apartment feels warm tonight (though it is because you are here, he theorizes) and it smells like sex and remnants of cigarette smoke, a hint of your floral shampoo, his musky cologne.
like something that is meant to last forever.
“you make me feel complete.”
nothing other than you and higuruma hiromi — the lawyer of the most powerful yakuza organization, someone you can’t seem to get enough of — exists in that moment; tokyo stills, the thunderous clouds come to a halt.
“what would you have done,” you begin, throat dry as you continue to admire his scarred hand, “had you led a different life?”
he hums — low and soothing, like the gentle storm brewing outside. “you know, i’m not too sure, sweetheart. i think i’ve crafted the perfect world for myself — and you were the missing piece.”
you try to swallow the truth: you and higuruma hiromi cannot be — how could such a powerful man be with someone like you? but the fact gets stuck in your throat and you almost choke.
“and you?” he questions, middle finger trailing down the curve of your waist and stopping at your hip.
“i think i would have liked to travel,” you kiss his index finger as the heavens roar outside. “visit museums and taste delicious food.” you plant a kiss on his palm before dropping his hand entirely; you turn around and bury your face into his chest. “maybe, in a different life, we could have been together.”
“nothing,” you look up at him, a sniffle threatening to rip through you. “thank you for making me feel safe, hiromi.”
he kisses the top of your head.