Hiromi X Reader - Blog Posts

hiii just here to say that hiromi would get on his hands and knees and kiss at ur heels just to prove that he worships the ground u walk on

“ i’m takin’ care of each and every part…i open up your legs and go straight for your heart. ”

𝓢ynopsis: hiromi’s unwavering dedication to his work has created an unspoken distance in his marriage, leaving his spouse adrift in quiet loneliness. the long hours he spends away weigh heavily on them both—his partner aches for his presence, while hiromi wrestles with guilt and the fear of losing the one he loves most. finally, driven by the need to heal what has frayed, hiromi steps away from the chaos of his career, choosing instead to rekindle their bond in the most intimate and heartfelt way.

pairing: hiromi higuruma x fem!reader

cont: desperation, smut, oral receiving, he cums inside, just general 18+ content…., mdni.

wc: 2,543

────        𝓗iromi Higuruma's job was grueling. Fighting for the innocent, defending the wrongly accused, standing tall for people who didn't deserve to be caged away—it was as noble as it was soul-crushing. The endless hours, the weight of other people's lives resting on his shoulders, the knowledge that justice wasn't always as blind as it should be—it wore him down. But this was his duty. And he bore it, even when it left him drained to the core, because someone had to.

And then, there was you.

You, who made it all feel worth it. You, who welcomed him home like a balm for his weary soul. You'd have a warm bath ready after those long, punishing days, your arms open and waiting, a soft smile that could disarm any tension. You cooked him dinners so rich, so full of care, that he felt it in his bones. Everything about you soothed him, brought him a kind of peace he never knew he needed so desperately.

And he adored you for it. He always did.

Even if his words didn't always convey it, his heart spoke it every time he looked at you. How did he get so lucky? A wife who loved him unconditionally and somehow, on top of all that, made time to praise his nose? He'd chuckle about it in the quiet moments. It was silly, but he cherished it.

But lately, something had shifted.

At work, his focus wasn't what it used to be. Oh, he was still good—too good, even, to falter in the courtroom—but his mind had started wandering in ways it never had before. Specifically, to you. And not just your smile or the way your laugh filled every corner of a room. No. It was the way you felt pressed against him. The way your lips parted when he kissed you deeper. The soft sounds you'd make when he touched you.

It hit him out of nowhere most days—a rush of heat curling through him like a flame he couldn't extinguish. It didn't help that you hadn't had much time for intimacy lately.

Work, schedules, and exhaustion had gotten in the way, but the longing hadn't gone anywhere. If anything, it had only grown stronger, festering inside him until it was a near-constant ache.

So there he was, in court, cross-examining a witness with a painful erection straining against his slacks. No one could see it, thankfully, but the sheer humiliation of it burned in his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about you—your body, your voice, the way you'd feel under him. It was almost maddening.

By the time he won the trial, he wasn't even relieved. He just needed to get home.

To you.

The moment Hiromi stepped through the door, he was in motion. Shoes off, briefcase discarded, and then he was climbing the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding like a war drum.

When he saw you, he froze for half a second. You turned to greet him, your finger booping his nose in that playful way you always did, your voice sweet and full of pride. "You looked like you worked hard again, Romi," you praised softly, smiling at him.

"Yeah, I did. Thank you," he managed, though his voice was thick with something else entirely—something raw, hungry. And soon enough he was pulling you into a hug. 

The second your body pressed against his, he nearly lost his composure. His hips shifted instinctively, the hard line of his arousal brushing against you. He inhaled sharply, his face buried in the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of you was like a drug-intoxicating, irresistible.

"You—" His voice cracked slightly as he pulled back, his gaze locking with yours. He didn't know how to explain what you did to him, the way you completely unraveled him with just a touch, a look, a word. He didn't need to. You saw it in his eyes, the raw, unspoken desire that had been simmering for weeks.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed into yours, hungry and demanding. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed. There was no rush in his movements, though. No frantic desperation.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he confessed, his voice low and thick with want. His hands slid to your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over your skin. "I'm gonna take my time with you, sweetheart, that alright?"

He didn’t even let you answer, his eager mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he was between your legs, his tongue dragging languidly over your sensitive skin. You gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as he worked you over with an almost torturous patience. His nose brushed against you, and the sound that escaped your lips made him groan against you.

"Hiromi..." His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan, your voice shaking with need. You couldn't help it-couldn't stop the way your hips instinctively bucked against him, seeking more of the unbearable bliss he was giving you. He only tightened his grip on your thighs, holding you firmly in place, his movements deliberate, maddeningly slow.

You couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him. His tongue moved in a steady rhythm, his nose brushing against you with every motion, and it was too much and not enough all at once. The sounds he was making-low, satisfied hums that vibrated against you— only pushed you closer to the edge, your entire body tensing as the pressure built inside you.

"P-please," you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were a mess—flushed, shaking, your hands fisting the sheets in desperation. You could barely form words, barely do anything but feel.

Hiromi pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips slick, his eyes dark and hungry. "I said I'd take my time, didn't I?" His voice was rough, filled with an almost predatory satisfaction, and it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled cry as he dipped his head again, his tongue sliding into you with a deliberate, agonizing slowness. It was like he was savoring you, taking his time to unravel every part of you. And you let him—because in that moment, nothing else existed but him and the pleasure he was giving you.

Your body trembled beneath his touch, every stroke of his tongue, every soft scrape of his teeth, every teasing nuzzle of his nose sending shockwaves through you. The knot in your stomach tightened, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, a wave of euphoria crashing over you so powerful it left you gasping, tears spilling freely down your cheeks.

He didn't stop, didn't let up even as you squirmed beneath him, overstimulated and blissed out. When he finally pulled back, his lips curved into a wicked, satisfied grin, his hands still holding you steady. "You're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with an unmistakable possessiveness.

And as he moved to capture your lips again, you realized you'd never felt more utterly, devastatingly his.

Hiromi leaned over you, his lips claiming yours as if they could draw every last sound of pleasure from your mouth. You could taste yourself on him—warm, intoxicating, a reminder of just how thoroughly he'd worshipped you moments ago. His hands never left your body, sliding over your trembling thighs and up to your hips, anchoring you to him like he couldn't bear even a sliver of distance between you.

The look in his eyes when he pulled back made your breath catch. It was raw, unguarded-like he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn't control. His lips were slightly parted, his breath uneven, and you could see the flush creeping up his neck, could feel the way his body radiated heat against yours.

"You don't know what you do to me," he rasped, his voice low and unsteady. His hands tightened on your hips as he ground his clothed arousal against you, the friction making you gasp. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, and a groan escaped him-deep, guttural, filled with an ache that mirrored your own.

"Baby..." you whispered, your voice soft but trembling with want. You reached for him, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, the slight stubble that tickled your fingertips. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, dark and filled with so much emotion it made your chest tighten.

"I can't stop," he admitted, almost a Whisper, as if confessing to some uncontrollable need. "You're in my head, always. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm trying to focus, it's you." He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours. "And it drives me insane. I've been waiting—craving—this. Craving you."

The sincerity in his voice sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling even as your body ached for him.

You pulled him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he let out a sharp exhale, his control visibly fraying at the edges.

"Then take me," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath.

That was all it took.

His hands moved with purpose, unbuttoning his shirt with a desperate kind of urgency before shrugging it off. You couldn't help but admire him—the way his muscles tensed beneath his skin, the way his chest rose and fell as he fought to stay composed. But when he finally joined you on the bed, pressing his bare body against yours, any semblance of restraint he had left crumbled.

He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the way your lips moved against his. His hands explored every inch of you, his touch reverent, as though he was memorizing every curve, every shiver, every little gasp you gave him. He moved against you, his arousal pressing into you with a delicious kind of pressure that had you arching against him, desperate for more.

And when he finally slid into you, the world seemed to still.

The stretch, the heat, the way he filled you so perfectly-it was overwhelming in the best possible way. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, and he groaned low in his throat, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

"God," he breathed, his voice strained, as if the feeling of being inside you was too much. "You're so... perfect. So warm. So —" He broke off with a sharp inhale, his hips moving slowly, deliberately, as if he wanted to make this last. But the way his body trembled against yours betrayed just how much you affected him.

Every thrust was slow, deliberate, his body pressing into yours with a rhythm that left you breathless. The friction, the heat, the intimacy—it all built into a crescendo that had you teetering on the edge of bliss once again. And from the way his breathing grew heavier, the way his groans became rougher, you knew he was right there with you.

"Hiromi... I—" Your voice cracked, your nails raking down his back as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"I've got you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice soft but thick with emotion. "Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you."

And you did. Your release crashed over you in waves, your entire body trembling beneath him as your voice broke on his name. The way you tightened around him, the way you clung to him like he was your lifeline—it sent him spiraling.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his groan muffled against your neck as his body tensed, his release ripping through him like a tidal wave. He stayed there for a moment, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his breath hot against your skin as he came down from the high.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the silence filled only with the sound of your mingled breathing. His weight on top of you was grounding, his hands gentle as they traced lazy patterns over your skin. He lifted his head eventually, his gaze soft as he looked at you, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

And as you pulled him closer, your bodies still tangled together, you both knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

🏷️: @luv-lies @tojiseviltwin @yung-notorious @kentosmirrorball @jazzthatonewriterchick @sugoroo @lokissweater @pepperyduck @obsesssedblerd

"bright are the stars that shine, dark is the sky, i know this love of mine will never die"

hiromi higuruma is so beatles coded, he listens to "and i love her" while he's on his way to work and probably listens to "michelle" too and is caught up on all his Beatles lore. "good day sunshine" "doctor robert" "here comes the sun" and "a hard days night" are his favorite songs, hands down. a black suit and tie, he cannot get anymore handsome but he does anyways, with his ringo starr-like hooked nose. he slow dances to the songs with you in the living room on a rainy Sunday afternoon. he gazes at you with pure adoration as you hum along with the tunes of his favourite songs, knowing that he's rubbing off on you just a teeny bit

clubbing? whats that? he only knows about playing his vinyl records and tapping his leg to it as he reads a book in his rickety ass chair that squeaks and groans every time he moves in it. "its vintage" he claims but that thing looks like its from the prehistoric era, taking its dying breath, with his butt print imprinted in its rotting foam.

he's probably the type to bake in his free time, which is why when he started dating you, he baked all of your favorite pastries and gave them to you, saying that he was bored so tried his hand at baking and he didnt know that you loved what he made. he's the type to listen to romantic music at any time of the day, whether he's happy or sad or just existing. hes a man of many words but more songs. hes your man in the end of it all

JJK- Hiromi x bratty! intelligent! reader with a smart mouth and a lack of self preservation. Hiromi’s a patient man but there’s only so many bratty comments he can take before he’s bending her over his knee and putting her in her place. maybe soft sex and praise after.

i headcanon him as a man who wears rings, take from that what you will. 😉

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - None, this is just smut.

A/N - First time writing for Higuruma! I actually continued reading the JJK manga specifically for him, and honestly, I'd like to write for him more.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Slap! 

"What? You really thought that I'd let you get away with makin' snide little comments like that?" Hiromi's voice is a gentle brush against your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe and tugging down on it just hard enough to make you moan out in both pain and pleasure.  

He smooths his hand over the curve of your ass, the cool metal of the rings he wore soothing the light burn that his repeated slaps had left behind. His lips turn upward in a smirk, half-lidded eyes flickering to meet your own as your back arches into him, tiny whines falling from your parted lips.  

"What? Was someone jealous?" Your tone is teasing as you tilt your head in Hiromi's direction, smirking at him as his hand stills against your skin, a shiver running up your spine at the borderline predatory look that glazes over his eyes.  

Roughly, Hiromi turns your body around, hands squeezing firmly at the skin of your hips as your chest presses flush against his own. His lips ghost over your own, quirking up in a shit-eating smirk as your mouth chases his. A whine leaves your parted lips as he leans back from you, denying you of the one thing that you were so desperately craving – him.  

"C'mon Hiromi," you breathe out, voice a tiny bit whiny in that way that he loved. He chuckles, his breath fanning over your face as he brings himself just a touch closer to you, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.  

"Awe, now we're begging? What happened to that snappy little attitude you had before? Tell me where that went," Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, eyes flickering down to your lips before they return to your half-lidded gaze.  

You remain silent, your arms wound around his neck. In an attempt to break him, you trace your fingernails along his nape, smirking at the shiver that it sends up his spine. He sighs, and you know that you've successfully broken him – he couldn't hold himself back from you for too long anyway. If anything, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him...if not more.  

"Thought you liked my little attitude," you grin, tilting your head and moaning quietly into Hiromi's mouth as his lips crash onto yours, unable to hold himself back any longer. One of his hands lifts to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.  

His teeth playfully nip at your bottom lip, smirking down at you as you pull back from him. Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze glazed over with lust as Hiromi’s hands begin to roam your body again — one hand resting on your ass while the other hikes up your thigh to wrap your leg over his waist.  

His head dips down, lips just barely grazing the skin of your neck. His teeth drag over your pulse points, a chuckle rumbling in his throat as your back arches, chest pressing impossibly further into his own.  

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know that?” Hiromi murmurs against you, his hands roaming lower until his palms roughly grope at your ass. A shocked moan falls from your parted lips, eyes momentarily falling shut as you press yourself further into Hiromi.  

One of his hands begins to shift, fingers running over your soaked panties and smirking at the slickness that seeps through the lace. “Well isn’t that something?” 

You sigh, head falling forward so that your forehead grazes the expensive fabric of Hiromi’s suit, desperately whining. Your hips shift, searching for friction against his fingers — friction that he doesn’t grant you.  

“Hiromi please,” you rut your hips against nothing, Hiromi’s fingers had already moved from where they were teasing you. “Fuck.” 

Hiromi smirks, his hands gripping at your hips and steering you to the seat in his office. You gasp, the backs of your legs hitting against the leather seat before you’re sitting down, staring up at Hiromi.  

“What happened? Thought we were bolder than this,” Hiromi comments with a tilt of his head, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, fingers tapping teasingly against your thighs. 

“Fuck…you,” you pant out, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as Hiromi slowly lifts up the skirt that you had decided to surprise him with — a dangerous choice, really.  

“Oh honey,” Hiromi grins like the Cheshire Cat, “you aren’t doin’ any of that.”  

Your chest heaves as you glance down at Hiromi, who had already taken the liberty of tugging your panties to the side, running the tip of his index finger over your folds — collecting your slick on his skin with another smirk.  

He swirls his finger over your clit, just barely touching it and smirking to himself as your head falls back, desperate moans falling from your parted lips.  

“Pretty little thing,” he murmurs, replacing his finger with his tongue. Your hands fly instinctively to his hair, tugging at the roots and biting back a scream as he sucks your clit between his lips. Your fingernails dig into his scalp, scratching at it – that earns you a groan from the man beneath you. The vibration sends a delicious tingle through you, another desperate moan falling from your lips.  

“Hiromi,” you whimper, body jolting forward as his hands lay flat against your thighs, the cool metal of his rings sending shivers through you.  

You can feel his lips turn upward in a smirk against your skin, his tongue stopping and his head pulling back from its place between your thighs. You whine out at the sudden loss of contact, trying desperately to tug him back to you.  

“Oh you’re in no state to be demanding princess,” Hiromi all but purrs, rising from his place and glancing up at you. Your chest heaves in desperate, panting breaths, fingers still tangled in Hiromi’s hair. You don’t dare to tug on the strands, not wanting to face a more unbearable punishment than what you were already being subjected to.  

His hands swiftly lift up your skirt, hands running over the curves of your hips. You shiver, the cool metal of his rings starkly contrasting with the little flames that had already erupted along your legs.  

“Hiromi—“ 

“Shut it,” he purrs into your ear, one hand already undoing the buckle of his belt. You don’t dare to go against his word, not when he was riled up and ready to make sure that you weren’t able to walk come the next morning. “I don’t wanna hear another word outta that disrespectful little mouth.” 

You press your lips together, whining as he rubs himself along your entrance, his tip just barely teasing your clit. You rut your hips against him, desperate for any little bit of friction. Hiromi’s hands shift to your waist, holding it roughly and effectively pausing your movements.  

“C’mon now, thought you were smart enough to follow instructions,” Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, looking at the desperate expression painted onto your face. God, you looked fucking amazing.  

You open your mouth to retaliate, wanting to be snarky, but Hiromi effectively cuts you off by pushing himself into you. You gasp out a whiny moan, screwing your eyes shut as he bottoms out, then shifting his hips back just enough to pull halfway out before he slams right back into you.  

“Fuck!” you squeal, moaning as Hiromi lifts your legs and folds you into a wonky attempt at a mating press. He groans, then picking up the pace and rutting his hips into you. “H-Hiromi!” 

He grins, reaching a hand down to press two fingers against your clit, circling it quickly. Your pussy flutters around him, which makes his own eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck princess, always takin’ me — so fuckin’ well,” he pants into your neck, biting lightly down onto your pulse point.  

“S-shit! Nghh — Hiromi,” you moan wantonly, not even caring if any of his coworkers happened to be passing by his office. You can feel him so deeply inside of you, his tip nearly kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Your legs are pinned against your shoulders, toes curling as you feel that familiar knot begin to coil in your stomach.  

“There we go princess,” Hiromi murmurs against you, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping against your own. His fingers pick up their pace over your clit, grinning as a choked moan gets caught in your throat. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours and promptly swallowing your moans.  

His hips continue to slap against your own, tightening the coil in the bottom of your stomach. You whimper underneath him, head thrown back and eyes screwed tightly shut as moans of his name fall from your lips like a desperate plea.  

He reaches down, thumb pressing against your clit before moving in quick circles over the bundle of nerves. You gasp out, back arching as your nails bite into his arms — wanting to push him away but at the same time craving the sparks of pleasure that his touch sends through you.  

“Hiromi — fuck, ‘m cumming!” you mewl, lips parting in one last drawn out moan before you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your pussy flutters over Hiromi’s cock, that which earns you a broken moan from the man hovering above you.  

“Fuck princess,” he murmurs, hands bracing against your hips, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He glances up at you, smirking to himself at your fucked out expression and the way that your hair clings to your forehead.  

Hiromi pulls out slowly, grinning to himself as you moan out at the empty feeling he leaves behind. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, adjusting yourself only to groan inaudibly at the slight ache in your legs — a sight that Hiromi has the gall to breathily chuckle at.  

“Y’alright there honey?” Hiromi inquires, resting a hand behind your back and helping you in sitting up. He flashes you an apologetic grin, one that you bite back your own smile at the sight of.  

“M’fine,” you murmur, smiling tiredly at Hiromi. He nods understandingly, looking around his office before his attention returns to you. You chuckle, gesturing with your head towards his suit pocket. He rolls his eyes teasingly at you, then reaching into the previously mentioned pocket and removing a handkerchief.  

“C’mon honey, spread them for me again,” Hiromi urges softly, nudging your knees. You raise an eyebrow playfully at him, a small smirk spreading across your face as you tilt your head.  

“Already ready for round two Mr. Higuruma?”  

Hiromi rolls his eyes at you, dabbing the handkerchief against your now exposed pussy, cleaning off the remnants of your visit to his office. “I would, but Miss Bratty ain’t up for it.” 

You giggle, closing your eyes momentarily as Hiromi leans down to affectionately press his forehead against your own. He pulls back briefly, pecking your forehead.  

“Can we get ramen?” 

Hiromi sighs, hanging his head for a moment before smiling at you. “Alright honey, but don’t blame me if you can’t walk.” 

“Hiromi!”