#rlb

🍒-DrunkHiromiHiguruma!

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“Baby, ngh, slow down.”

His hands pressed around your throat, he's not holding you tight, but you feel your breath being knocked out of you with each thrust, the headboard slamming against the wall with a loud bang.

He's drunk.

“I'm feeling heated inside, doll—blame you for it.”

He's right. You're the one who encouraged him to have fun when Satoru and Sukuna pulled him out of his comfort zone, which was his home with you - his wife. He hated drinking, and he had stated that more than once.

He knew how too much liquor in his system affected him. That's why he had you in missionary, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he pressed deep into your already sensitive cunt.

Your cries falling on deaf ears.

He can't help himself.

"Fuck, she's taking it all," he grunts, his gaze low as he looks down at you. The look alone makes your eyes drop to where he's staring. His hand tightens around your neck, lifting your head from the bed before he crashes his lips into yours, kissing you like it's the last one he'll ever get. His hips move slowly, rolling back and forth as he keeps himself buried deep inside you.

You swear he'll never touch another glass again.

You pout a soft cry into his mouth, and he can't help the smirk that tugs at his lips at the clear I told you so moment.

You're wet around his cock, and he's hot and sweaty his breath reeks of liquor, not the bad kind the kind that makes you slowly cock drunk the kind that when he kisses you, you're sucking on his tongue to taste him even more.

"Mmm don't cry - I told you not to let me go " he hums in appreciation, almost appreciating how you love the way he twists you up and fucks you.

His strokes stay slow and deep, controlled, and he notices the way you soak his waist. It's almost cute to him. He can't help the way his pace picks up after that.

His thumb finds your sensitive clit, pressing just enough as he watches your body spasm beneath him, your legs tensing around his shoulders.

"I can't take it, Romi," you plead, but he doesn't stop. His hands slide to the back of your legs, grabbing them and pulling them together before pushing them back the way he had them before. You're pressed into the mattress, barely able to move as he adjusts the angle. His hips lift to follow it, and he keeps thrusting into you, relentless, like he has something to prove.

He's leaning down hips slamming into and he watches your face knit and your pretty nails push at his hips but he doesn't stop, not until he's got his nut dripping from your hole, not until he feels tired from all of this liquor in his system.

"You can princess, mm? You can " he kisses you he kisses you softly almost seductively like he has something to prove, and he doesn't stop talking.

"Come on, cum for daddy hm? "You already came like twice, he's a psychopath.

Your eyes are sad like he's just broken your heart into four pieces, and he loves that look. He loves the salty tears slipping from the corners of your eyes because you can't take him anymore. He loves how puffy and swollen you've gotten. He just loves you.

"I'm sorry, fuck... I'm just so horny, and my pretty wife just had to still be up," he mutters, apologizing for the way he stumbled into the house. He didn't wait more than five minutes before pulling off his shirt and sitting you down on his lap.

He's completely fucked out, but he still moves into you, and you feel helpless beneath him. He keeps rambling-about hon good you're being, how you shouldn't cry because he's making you feel good. And he is... fuck, he is.

"Daddy, please..." you cry, the sound dragging out of your throat. The noise makes him smile, and that long, broken plea finally pushes him over the edge. He pulls out before finishing inside you, barely giving himself time to breathe before pushing your legs back open and dropping between them, his crooked nose brushing against your swollen pussy.

"Mhm... so juicy," he slurs, still half lost in the moment as he works at you, chasing whatever is left of his release while he sucks on your clit. Your hips spasm, thighs locking around his face, fingers tangling in his damp black locks as you swear the stars are falling behind your eyes.

"Romi.." you murmur softly.

When he finally looks up from between your legs, his vision blurs. He's exhausted. His head drops against the inside of your thigh-and just like that, he's out cold.

The Next Morning…

The sun is already up by the time you finally wake. Your body aches from the waist down, every small movement reminding you of last night. Somehow, Hiromi is still fast asleep between your legs, completely knocked out.

You try not to move—barely even breathe.

The memory of last night should have you annoyed, maybe even a little mad. But looking down at him now… it’s hard to feel anything except the pull of how unfairly handsome he is.

After all, you did tell him to go out.

Your fingers drift through his dark locs, slow and absentminded, the soft strands slipping between them. The gentle touch is enough to stir him. His brows twitch first, then his lashes flutter as he starts to wake beneath your hand.

“Good morning, doll.”

His voice is still thick with sleep as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. The warmth of it makes your stomach flip, even as the memory of last night flashes in your mind—how you’d pushed his head away at one point.

He lets out a quiet, sleepy laugh before finally lifting himself up. When he reaches your face, he smiles softly and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“If I was rough… I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I was pretty fucked up.

You only smile, leaning down to press a few small kisses across his cheek and jaw.

“You’ve got me all sore,” you mumble. “It’s only right I get a massage out of you today.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh, already sliding his hands along your hips like he knows exactly what you mean.

You both know that “massage” probably won’t stay a massage for long.

But for now, you just lie there together in the quiet morning light.

The room is warm, the sheets tangled around your legs, and when you glance toward the window you see the sun spilling through the curtains—bright and slow—stretching across the bed where the two of you are still tangled together.

CATWS 10th Anniversary | April 2nd » Prompts: Revenge for @catws-anniversary