SHIU CONTENT!

SHIU CONTENT! ♡♡

RUSH

SUMMARY: During a long shift, a certain regular catches your eye. Possibly your heart too, after treating you to a night of pampering. PAIRING: Shiu Kong/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex that turns somno, basically just a lot of soft, unrealistic domesticity really. A/N: Life's been hard so here's a super self indulgent fic about Shiu simply taking care of reader <3 I've literally been writing this for nearly 3 weeks straight so hopefully somebody likes it. WC: 9K (oof)

MASTERLIST

After around the fourth or fifth Friday in a row of seeing him, you finally notice he's staring. With heavy-lidded eyes throughout the night, his gaze is seemingly locked onto your frame as you rush around the bar, tending to everyone’s needs. His body angled so that he can get a good look at you grabbing bottles and garnishes while carefully weaving around your coworkers like you’re dancing to the beat of the music that blares through the speakers. 

When you notice, you feel your focus flicker for just a second. As you stop to speak to a pair of women, chatting about something mundane and entirely uninteresting, suddenly it’s like there’s this target locked against the side of your face. The imaginary barrel of a gun pointing directly at you, ready to take the shot, causing your gaze to shift. 

Like usual, he’s tucked into the farthest corner, casually leaning against the bar. His expression appearing almost empty as you glance over to see he’s clad in a simple suit. His jacket discarded onto the bar top beside him, leaving only a button-up and a loosened tie, prompting you to raise a brow. 

He usually never stays long enough to take off his jacket… 

“Uh, hello!” 

Deep in thought, suddenly the drunken snarl of one of the girls pulls you back. A wave of annoyance washing over as you release a breath and look back, making sure to smile. “Sorry, what was that?”

Afterwards, you let out a casual laugh and joke about your bad hearing before they thankfully laugh alongside you, eventually repeating their order. The simple exchange giving you the chance to refocus on the task at hand, moving over to the ice machine to start filling up your shaker tins. 

“Seems like someone’s got an admirer.” 

While pouring various spirits, your coworker, Himari, gently bumps her hip against yours. A signal that she recognizes the familiar man, too. His presence continuing to linger in ways that make you let out another laugh, this time the sound echoing your nerves. “Calm down, I’m sure he’s just looking for a top-up.” 

Almost immediately, she shakes her head. “Nah, he’s fully giving you the eyes, babe.” 

At that, you roll your own and give her an almost smug look, your eyes flickering to see him almost smirking —as if somehow he can hear you talking over the music. “Yeah, okay.” 

“You want to go talk to him?”

You shake your head almost immediately, even though deep down you can’t deny your interest. Considering he’s practically become a staple over these last few weeks, there’s a part of you that wants to say hi. Maybe to introduce yourself so that you can better build that classic bartender-customer rapport. But then, you notice the huge crowd of people swarming around. Every one of them vying for your attention with drunken minds and heavy pockets, causing the desire to earn money to outweigh everything else. 

Which ultimately ends up costing you a lot of energy in the long run. As the night quickly progresses, you can feel your mind begin to cave in on itself. Each customer that comes after the next becoming more and more of a chore to deal with thanks to the intake of alcohol. Eventually, testing your patience towards the ragged businessmen who always demand Old Fashions or the group of young college kids who scream for more tequila shots. 

Every passing moment makes you wish you’d taken your coworker up on her previous offer. Especially now that the bar’s completely packed, leaving barely any room to breathe let alone speak, you wish you could turn back time. Stop the clock and wind it back so that, instead of just watching the man who still idly sits, almost acting unaware of the chaos that surrounds him, you could talk to him. Maybe ask him what he does or how his day went. Using his presence as an excuse to take a load off while you offer up all your usual jokes in hopes he’ll slowly warm up to you.

And the longer you think about it, the more the idea foolishly creates a sense of longing. Your stomach tightening at the sight of him shifting in his seat, wondering if that’ll be the moment he finally calls it quits. The sight of him only moving just to further settle on the stool making you scrunch up your face in annoyance, realizing how crazy you’re acting. 

Considering he’s nothing more than a stranger, the impulse you feel to connect with him is completely ridiculous. Nothing more than some silly delusion brought on by the exhaustion, you tell yourself. His residency amongst the rowdy crowd serving as nothing more than some false oasis that’ll inevitably disappoint you if you go over. 

So, you don’t. Instead, forcing your mind to think about the money, you allow every tip to fuel you. Each one navigating you further from his frame, your mind too immersed in the task at hand until suddenly last call rolls around.

At which point, you find yourself forced to talk to him. After you notice your coworkers pushed deep into the trenches of last-minute orders, you realize then that you just have to do it. To be the one to bite the bullet and find out why exactly this guy’s decided to pick tonight of all nights to linger and stare. Your tired feet pushing you to stand directly across from him, arms spread across the counter to hold yourself up as you offer a smile. 

“We’re doing last call,” you tell him, watching him slowly glance between you and the empty beer bottle in his hand. “You want one more?”

He ponders for a minute, his other hand moving to stroke his chin as he sort of smiles to himself, eventually shrugging. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

In response, you give him a nod and shuffle over to the fridge to get him another, grabbing the opener off your belt to shuck it off before trading him for the old one. “You got a tab to close?” 

He nods. 

“What’s it under?” 

“Kong.” 

This time, you nod, rushing away to grab his receipt —typing in the name to find a rather abysmal order of four beers, not including the one you just gave him. 

That’s all he drank? Damn… 

“So, how’s your night been?” 

Handing him the receipt after it prints, you watch as he pulls out a handful of bills and tosses them on top of the piece of paper. His expression seeming a bit distracted as he eventually looks at you and blinks. “It’s been fine. A bit dull, honestly.” 

“Yeah, how come?” 

“Nobody to talk to,” he simply says. The sound of his voice expressing such a casual tone despite the weight of his words hitting you like a brick. The implication of his admission making you swallow hard before awkwardly laughing, not sure if his comment was even necessarily meant for you. 

“Yeah, well, Friday’s are a little nuts, unfortunately.”

Glancing around, he takes a moment to take in the sight of all the drunken bodies crowding around, waiting for their final turn. The gears in his head turning for a bit before he looks back at you. “I’m starting to realize that.”

“Yeah.” 

Releasing a low hum, you then wonder if maybe you should say your goodbyes or linger a bit longer, knowing deep down you should probably do the former. Seeing as it’s your job and already you can sense the frustrations of those who surround the space you’re currently occupying, looking at you with desperate eyes, it’s probably better if you just throw in the towel. Call it night and maybe try again next week. But then there’s a moment where you look back at each other and there’s this feeling. A pressure in your stomach that makes you swallow hard and start to settle. Your body practically leaning into his space as you narrow your eyes. 

“How come you’re here so late, anyway?” you ask, allowing the curiosity you’ve secretly harboured all night to finally release.

Once again, he shrugs. Only this time, there’s a faint smile pulling across his face. “Figured it might be fun to people watch for a bit longer.” 

Bullshit. 

Regardless of such a thought, a smile of your own appears in response —your mind unconvinced. “Was it fun?” 

“The people watching?” 

You nod. 

He shrugs. 

Then, both of you become lost in this strange limbo of charged silence. Your thoughts now drifting to wonder why all of a sudden he seems so… interesting as you continue to watch him lift the beer to his lips to take a sip. 

“S’pose it was alright.”

Slightly taken aback by his bluntness, you can’t help but snort in response. Your eyes rolling as he chuckles and you reach for the cash in front of you, taking a moment to count it, realizing it’s well over the asking price. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t a total bore for you,” you tell him after, shoving it all into the pocket of your apron. “Otherwise you might not come back.” 

“Didn’t realize you cared if I came back.”

As soon as you notice the smug expression that begins to appear across his face after he speaks, your mouth presses into a thin line. Realizing then that your words are the perfect fuel for him to keep the conversation going. 

“I walked into that one, didn’t I?” 

“Sure did, sweetheart.” 

Again, he chuckles and takes another sip, continuing to stare. His eyes practically memorizing every move you make as you try to appear busy by reaching for a handful of dirty glasses and tucking them under the bar.

“Well, can’t deny that I’d hate to see you go. You’re one of the good ones.” 

“Am I?”

You grab a cloth and start to wipe down the counter, watching him lean back to give you more space. His expression continuing to showcase how pleased he seems at your words. “I mean, yeah. You’re quiet, you wait your turn, you tip,” you begin to list off a handful of reasons, each one piquing his interest as he watches you dart around, continuing to close. “You’re also not creepy. Unless you count the staring problem.” 

Despite your comment, he merely just takes another sip, completely unfazed. “Caught that, huh?”

“Hard not to when you don’t even try to hide it, Mr. Kong,” you tease. 

“Shiu.” 

At that, you scrunch up your face in confusion. “Sorry?” 

“My name,” he clarifies. “It’s Shiu.”

Shiu. 

Standing there for a few moments, you repeat the name in your head so it doesn’t get lost. Committing the sound to memory before you offer your hand across the counter, saying your own name in return. Immediately clocking the way he seems to repeat your tactic, allowing it to sink in.

“Nice to finally put a name to a face.” 

“Likewise.”

Still shaking his hand, you then hear the sound of Himari calling you. The sudden sound pulling you from this strange bubble of ease you’ve somehow settled in, causing you to swear under your breath. “Sorry, I uh—“

“It’s okay. Duty calls?”

Glancing between him and the never-ending line of customers still waiting for their final drinks, you release a sigh and nod. “Unfortunately.” 

“Good luck.”

It’s the last thing you hear from him after you offer an awkward wave goodbye. The tone of his voice, forever casual and polite. A direct contrast to the type of response you’re used to getting from men who try to talk to you, causing your mind to regret not reaching out sooner. 

Because maybe if you had, the rest of your night wouldn’t have been so awful. As you shift back into bartender mode, ushering person after person to order their drinks as fast as possible, maybe you could’ve felt content instead of disappointed. The feeling of satisfaction fuelling your drive rather than allowing the sadness to slow you down, knowing you might have to wait a whole other week to see him again.

And that’s if he decides to come back. Which, unfortunately, is a thought that plagues you even after you’ve finished cleaning the fridges and the floors and the—

“Saw you talking to Shiu.”

Your thoughts are interrupted again. The mention of him making you faintly smile even though the mere thought of him also kind of stresses you out. “Yeah. He’s… surprisingly nice.”

“I know. I’m the one who usually serves him.” Himari smiles almost proudly when she says that, her teeth peeking out from between her parted lips as she throws her bag over her shoulder, following you towards the door.

“You must like him then,” you joke, nudging your elbow against hers. “With the way he tips and all that.” 

Himari snorts and pulls her keys out, spinning them around her finger as you push open the door, allowing her to follow behind before turning back to lock up. “It’s definitely a plus, I’ll admit. But he’s a decent guy, too —fun to talk to.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods, distractedly pulling out her phone to shoot her boyfriend a text. Most likely telling him that she’s finished for the night and heading home like she usually does before glancing back up. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes either.”

Upon hearing that, you can’t help but swallow a bit. Especially after you clock the way her expression immediately turns mischievous. Her lips curling upwards as she wiggles her brows, forcing you to turn away and shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. Your mind foolishly starting to concoct his image without warning. The sight of his warm, slightly aged features shifting to the forefront of your thoughts causing you to narrow your eyes. 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess he’s… decent,” you lie, knowing deep down he’s definitely more than that because if anything he’s exactly your type. 

Which is why Himari quickly glances at you, completely unconvinced as she begins to walk, leading you around the corner to where the two of you usually park your cars. “Just decent?” she then pries, raising a brow. 

At which point, you know your reaction is a dead giveaway. Thanks to the way your mouth awkwardly opens and closes, unable to come up with a viable enough answer to make it seem like you see him as anything other than attractive, you know she knows. Prompting you to huff in response and look away, hearing her laugh as she pokes your arm. 

“You know he thinks you’re cute too, right?”

Your neck practically breaks from how quickly you turn to face her, your brows knitting together in slight shock. “What?” 

“What? You seriously didn’t pick up on that? Why do you think I was trying to get you to talk to him earlier?”

You shrug your shoulders, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know, I just figured you were—“

“Trying to set you up with some random guy?”

At first, you pause, then you sigh, realizing yes. That's exactly what you figured she was doing.

“Is that why it took you so long to go talk to him?” 

You realize then you don’t really have an answer that doesn’t sound completely selfish, causing you to cross your arms over your chest and sort of pout as you walk the rest of the way to your cars in silence. Noticing from the corner of your eye another vehicle that's parked a few stalls away, a familiar body occupying its driver’s seat. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” you hear Himari practically sing then. Her voice filled with a specific air of humour that has you scoffing and lightly shoving her aside. The act causing her to retaliate with a shove of her own that makes both of you laugh, inevitably catching the attention of the driver. 

Slowly but surely, his eyes move to make eye contact with yours, stilling for a moment before lighting up entirely. And it’s a sight that makes your stomach twist a bit. As you watch the lines around his eyes become more prominent before they’re whisked away by the turn of his neck, you can’t help but deny your attraction. That undeniable pull from earlier returning with a vengeance as you deeply breathe and try to turn back to Himari, realizing she’s already halfway inside her vehicle, waving goodbye. 

“You’re leaving already?” you then whisper through clenched teeth —your eyes darting between her and Shiu who’s back to staring. The pupils of his eyes practically boring holes into your skull as you see him reach to pop his door open. 

“Have fun,” you hear Himari say. Then after a few painfully short seconds pass, she’s gone. The rumble of her old, worn-out car drifting into the distance as you continue to stand there, confused as to how you’re meant to proceed now that there’s not a bar top wedged between you or another body to turn to for guidance if the conversation gets stale. The lack of crutches making you shove your hands into the pockets of your jeans and awkwardly clear your throat, watching him move forward, his expression amused and soft. The kind of look that makes you both terrified and interested. A mix of anxious energy flowing through your veins as he stops in front of you, offering what appears to be the subtle etchings of a smirk as he mirrors the hands inside your pockets. 

“Long time no see.” 

You hum and nod, your lips curling into a small grin. “It would seem so.” 

“Have a good close?” 

Shrugging your shoulders, you turn to glance around the parking lot, immediately clocking the absence of the usual buzzing energy that surrounds you whenever he’s around. The lack of drunken bodies and blaring music making the conversation abruptly stop. Your mind suddenly failing to fill in the blanks as you continue to stand, distractedly picking at the fabric inside your pocket. 

Which is something Shiu recognizes as he lets out a chuckle and looks at the ground, his expression shifting from confident to nervous in a single second, making you feel weirdly calm as you join in, laughing over your shared silence. 

“Sorry, I tend to forget how to properly talk after a long shift,” you eventually admit, moving your hands to rub your eyes.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk,” he replies. “We can just stand here.”

As your hands slowly peel down your face, you can’t help but curiously narrow your eyes at that. Your interest piquing as he pulls out a carton of cigarettes, popping a single one in his mouth before pocketing the box, and switching it out for a lighter. 

“You smoke?” 

“Sometimes.” 

Cupping his hand around the end, he flicks his thumb against the spark wheel —the familiar crackle of flame sounding between the two of you before he sucks and sighs, releasing a plume of smoke strategically away from your face.

“That’s a bad habit.” 

You can’t help but snort, watching as he hands it over. His fingers gently grazing against yours in the process. “Bit of a hypocritical statement, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t smoke.”

“Ah, of course. So this is one of those healthy cigarettes they’ve supposedly invented?” 

He motions towards your hand, nodding. “Good eye.” 

At that, you roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as you press your lips around the aforementioned cigarette. Allowing that familiar bitter taste of nicotine to hit your tongue as you take a deep breath and hand it back. His fingers brushing against yours for the second time. 

“So, what are you still doing here anyways?” 

You know it’s a bold question, despite the answer being obvious. More than likely he’s here because he wants to talk to you. To speak to you without the pressure of a purchase or a time limit lingering in the background. To vocalize whatever thoughts might come to mind without having to yell across a counter coated in the remnants of sticky cocktails.

All of it’s obvious to you before you even ask, but still, there’s a portion of your brain that can’t help but deny it. That small sliver of space making you question his intentions. Your insecurities lingering, making you wonder if he finds your pretty or interesting or if he just wants to fuck.

“Thought I’d wait to see if you wanted to continue our conversation from back there.” As he speaks, he motions in the general direction of the bar with his chin. All while his hand rises to take another few puffs of smoke into his mouth. His lips parting to push the excess out in a steady stream before he grins again. “Sorry, is that too forward of me?” 

You shake your head almost immediately. Then, you raise your hand for the passing of the cigarette, holding it for a moment as you try to articulate your thoughts into words. Eventually settling on, “No, I like forward. Forward’s good, makes things easy.” 

In response, he raises a brow, watching you part your lips and suck, his eyes never leaving yours even after you’ve finished smoking and have moved to give it back. His stare intensely making you almost shiver when his fingers bump against you. “Glad we can agree.”

You let out an approving hum and cross your arms over your chest. The urge to do something with your hands overwhelming your mind as you look down at the pavement and readjust your stance, moving a tad bit closer. 

“So, uh, do you want to hang out or just…?”

“Just what?”

His expression contorts again, the previous casualty of it shifting into some foreign and heavy. The weight of it making you clear your throat and glance at the ground again, trying to find the right words to say in order to convey your preference without actually outright stating it. 

“Hang out,” is what you end up saying, your tone a bit more suggestive, praying he understands the difference.

“Hang out or hang out?”

“Yeah….”

The moments that pass are awkward. A mess of silent tension and narrowed eyes. His gaze lingering against the side of your face when you inevitably turn your head in embarrassment, knowing you’ve fucked it. Whatever this is, you’ve absolutely, truly fu—

“Can I pick both? Is that an option or is it more of a red pill, blue pill situation?” 

You quickly turn to face him, unable to hide the surprise that appears across your face as you open your mouth, partially stuttering. “I’d uh —I’d be fine with both, yeah.”

He hums almost happily as he finally takes another drag. After flicking the excess ash that’s formed, he smiles around the smoke and takes a few deep inhales before he makes the pass, watching you shake your head before he drops whatever’s left on the ground to stomp it out. 

“You hungry?”

You are —starving, actually. But, at the same time as you look around, trying to gauge how to say that, you can’t deny the lack of options. The obvious late night hour forcing a potential limit as you inevitably look back and your eyes sharing a flicker of something you can’t quite place before you say, “We could go back to mine and I can make us something?” 

It’s enough to force his smile to branch out further. The obvious excitement taking over when you then ask for his phone, inputting the address to your apartment before you tell him you’ll meet him there. The anticipation of it all nearly killing you as you appropriately part ways to your respective cars, wondering what happens next. 

As expected, the whole way there your mind fills with various scenarios. Each one eventually leading to the same result, prompting you to instinctively tighten your fingers around the steering wheel with a heavy breath. Every end scene making you swallow hard and feel a bit warm, imagining what he might be like. How he might approach the hang-out portion of your time spent together. What his hands might feel like. Or his mouth. 

By the time you arrive, standing outside waiting, your thoughts are a mess. The wreckage of lewd thoughts mingling with more appropriate ones to create a buzz of nerves as you shift your weight on each foot. Your body slowly but surely pacing across the length of your apartment entrance as you quietly hum to yourself, thinking about how to greet him. Which, unfortunately, is a thought that causes you to spiral further. The expectancy to be charming and appealing suddenly becoming less of an afterthought now that he’s going to be entering your space. 

No longer in a neutral zone, you’re well aware you have to make some sort of impression that isn’t just flirting behind a bar for tips. You have to be nice and attractive in a less abrupt, business-y way. To give him what he wants without being too desperate. To be endearing. To keep him interested despite knowing next to nothing about him or what he likes or wants or needs. 

Biting your thumbnail, it comes to a point where you’re left exhausted before he even shows up, and stupidly, the thought of cancelling on him does cross your mind. Feeling the expectations are suddenly too high you debate waiting until he gets here to make some bullshit excuse about being too tired or feeling sick. But then he parks and gets out of his car, offering you that same soft grin from earlier and you kind of melt on the spot. All of your previous desires rushing to the forefront of your mind, causing your heart to beat a little quicker when you press your fob against the edge of the door and invite him in. No longer feeling as anxious as you walk up the stairs to the third floor, casually chatting about the drive. 

“You didn’t get lost or anything?” 

He shakes his head, following you down the hall. His face still sporting that same grin that makes your own mouth upturn without warning. “I’m assuming you found your way without any trouble, too?” 

You scoff out a laugh and nod, eventually reaching down to unlock your door when you make it there. Feeling your fingers twitch as you work the lock and push it open, suddenly realizing that he’s here —stepping inside your apartment like it isn’t the most nerve-wracking experience you’ve endured in a while. 

“You can hang your coat there if you want,” you then tell him, motioning to the hooks behind the door when he slowly closes it. Your eyes lingering as he casually steps out of his shoes before following your instructions; his own eyes glancing around. 

“Nice place.” 

Moving towards the kitchen, you drop your stuff on one of the stools that line the island, offering an appreciative hum. “Thanks. It’s a bit small, but it’s just me, so…”

After nodding, he steps further in to continue surveying. His eyes focusing on the overflowing bookshelf in the corner and the cluster of plants near the window. His eyes shifting position with each new object he takes in, clearly finding certain things more interesting than others.

“You ever get lonely all cooped up in here?” 

As expected, the question catches you a bit off guard, but you quickly recover by turning away to open the fridge. Taking a moment to scan the contents before deciding that some kind of stir-fry is probably your best chance at a proper meal. “I guess sometimes I do,” you eventually say after gathering your thoughts. All while collecting a handful of veggies from one of the lower drawers before turning back around to place them on the counter. “Why?”

He presses his palms against the marble that separates you, his expression softening when he looks up to see you already whizzing around to grab an apron and tie it around your waist. The speed of your hands afterwards darting to grab a knife off the magnetic strip on the wall, making him huff. 

“You said you lived alone,” he points out, watching you dip down to grab a cutting board from one of the drawers beneath you —your head bobbing in and out of view before returning not long after. “Got curious.” 

“About my loneliness levels?” You raise a brow at him, reaching for a handful of mushrooms to chop. 

“Yeah, what would you rate them?” He grins.

As you quickly guide your knife back and forth, you smile back and glance up for just a second. “Right now? Probably a two.” 

“Okay, but how about in general?”

You scrunch up your face, trying to think of an accurate number. “Maybe a seven?” 

“A seven?”

Sensing that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, you let out a nervous laugh, feeling your hands begin to still as you look back up, watching the shock on his face. “What? Is that bad?”

He lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “That’s a dangerously high number, sweetheart. Don’t you have friends that can help lower that?” 

In response, you roll your eyes before pushing your chopped mushrooms aside and reaching for some carrots. Your thoughts shifting to whether or not he’s simply flirting or if there’s a genuine hint of concern in his voice. 

“I mean, I’ve got weird work hours, so no. Not really.”

“What about Himari?”

You shrug. “She’s usually with her boyfriend.” 

He goes silent for a couple of seconds after that, causing you to look up and see him appear lost in thought before he inevitably catches your gaze. Both of you staring at each other for a couple of seconds, your eyes narrowing in curiosity until Shiu finally clears his throat and wanders around the counter to your side, holding out his hand. 

“You shouldn’t be cooking for me after a long shift,” he suddenly tells her. “Especially not if I’m the first friend you’ve hung out with in ages.”

You’re not sure whether to be offended or flattered at that moment, so you just resort to parting your lips and staring. The entirety of you unable to comprehend why this guy —this incredibly stable and attractive-looking guy— has decided that out of the blue, you’re his friend and he needs to cook for you.

“It’s not a big deal. I like cooking.”

Stepping closer, he starts to unbutton the sleeves of his shirt and roll them up, shaking his head the entire time. “Nobody likes cooking, sweetheart. Not after a shift of dealing with shitty college kids throwing money in their face.”

“No, seriously it’s—“

He cuts you off with a huff. The kind that instantly has you pressing your lips together, knowing deep down he’s right. Aside from the hunger in your stomach and the desire to impress him, the last thing you want to be doing is cooking. So, you don’t argue when he eventually pushes his hand closer, wiggling his fingers for you to transfer over the knife, or when he tells you to take off the apron and sit down. 

“Good girl. Now what am I making here?” 

When he looks down to take a quick inventory of the ingredients, you feel your stomach flip at his words. The very obviously suggestive term of endearment making your eyes slightly widen when you know he’s not looking before you quickly reset your face and reply, “I was just gonna make stir-fry.” 

“Okay, good I can work with that. Where’s your sauces?”

You’re about to stand when he points the knife at you, scolding your behaviour like you’re some sort of child he’s been tasked with keeping in line. The sight of him making your eyes roll as you point to the cupboard left of the oven’s hood vent. “Noodles are to the right, too.”

In response, he puts down the knife, appearing pleased before he turns to gather everything he needs. His arms stretching upward, causing your eyes to trail the length of his back with interest, admiring the view.

“Do you have any hon— were you just staring at my ass?” 

Looking up, you blink and part your lips before shaking your head in embarrassment. “No.”

“No? Then what were you looking at?” As if to better prove his point he looks down at the space around him, examining seemingly every aspect of the kitchen before he looks back at you with a skeptical look. “I feel like you’re lying.” 

“I’m not, I swear.” 

Holding back the urge to laugh, you press your lips together and breathe, watching him shake his head before continuing the process of chopping produce and putting together a simple sauce. Both of which he performs with a surprising amount of ease while cooking the noodles and making conversation. 

“So, how’d you wind up bartending?” 

“Started doing it during college and realized I liked it more than sitting in a classroom. So, I dropped out and started doing it full time.”

“Good money I’m guessing?” 

You grin and nod, prompting him to snort as he eventually begins to sauté. His wrist flicking the pan with every burst of flame that surrounds the base. “What do you do?”

When he hesitates to respond, you already know it’s bad. Or, at the very least, an answer both of you know has the potential to change the trajectory of the night. A detail you don’t particularly want to think about now that you’ve decided that he’s actually kind of… 

“I’m kind of like a mediator,” he eventually says, his tone unsure as he stares at the pan, watching the veggies begin to crisp above the heat of the stovetop. “Basically, I connect a pair of clients together and make sure the jobs they collaborate on go according to plan.” 

“Bit of an odd way to describe a job,” you point out, leaning your elbows against the counter as you hold your chin in your hands. “I’m assuming it’s a little less than legal.” 

That comment surprises him. You can tell because almost immediately after he’s looking at you like he’s angry. All narrow-eyed with pinched brows and a frown, causing you to laugh. 

“Relax, I work a service job in one of the shadier parts of town. I’ve seen my fair share of illegal things.”

“Right.” 

He seems skeptical, but thankfully he doesn’t dwell on it for long. Seeming to accept your answer in at least some capacity, he instead moves on by turning his attention back to the food, combining all the finished ingredients to create a delicious looking dish that has your mouth already watering. 

“Question though, you wouldn’t happen to be a chef on the side would you?”

He snorts and wanders around your kitchen in search of bowls, eventually finding the right cupboard on his second try. “No. I’m just a guy who knows how to cut shit up and cook it in a pan.” 

“Hey, you made noodles and sauce, too. Give yourself some credit.”

This time, he rolls his eyes and hands you a bowl before opening a random drawer to successfully find your cutlery, causing him to grin. “You should probably try it before offering any sort of praise.”

“Fair,” you respond with a laugh, taking the fork he inevitably offers you with a dramatic before digging in without question. Your mouth practically inhaling the food he so graciously made with a hum. 

“Good?”

“So good,” you mumble, using the back of your hand to hide your lack of manners as he lets out a sigh of relief and starts to dish some up for himself. 

“Thank god. Imagine I made all this and it ended up tasting like shit. Fucking embarrassing.”

Too distracted to do much of anything but eat by that point, you merely chuckle and continue shovelling forkful after forkful down until you’re done. The entire concept of conversation lost as you focus on filling your aching stomach. Something you’re sure Shiu finds a bit awkward as he lingers near the oven, opting to lean against the back counter to eat and sometimes stare rather than sit next to you.

“You must be starving over there,” he eventually points out. "My food can’t be that good.”

Leaning over to rip a piece of paper towel off the roll on your counter, you pause to wipe your mouth before smiling. “Tourist season is so insane. I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner during my shift,” you reply honestly, dropping your napkin to prepare one of your final bites. “This is also really good, though. Better than mine.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, finishing the meal off. Every part of you feeling satisfied as you sink further into your chair, watching as Shiu’s face subtly lights up at your praise. “Really good sauce. How’d you measure?”

“With the heart? I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, flashing you a smug grin that has the inside of your stomach doing somersaults. Your body shifting in your chair to set down your bowl and slowly stretch. All while trying not to think about the way his eyes seem to linger on your frame, taking in your sudden discomfort —studying it with slightly narrowed eyes that cause you to anxiously glance away. 

Which only makes the fear that grows worse, unaware of where his gaze might sit. Considering he seems to be far more curious and attentive than the average person you’ve experienced, the lack of awareness only serves to quicken your heart rate. The pounding drum of your organ making you swallow hard and slowly look back, watching as he reaches for your fork and bowl, turning his attention to the act of cleaning instead. 

“Oh, no, you don’t—“

Without missing a beat, he looks up at you with those same eyes as before. Two thin slits warning you to back off as he deposits each dish carefully into the sink. Then, without protest, each of his hands shift to grab your soap and sponge, lathering everything up beneath a steady stream of warm water. 

“You always this stubborn?” 

You frown, staring at his hands as he speaks, noticing the etchings of scars and freckles. Clusters of markings both grown and inflicted littering his skin like constellations. “No.” 

He scoffs out a laugh, prompting you to look up and see him shaking his head. “Hm, I have a hard time believing that.”

“Why?”

He moves each dish to the drying rack as he speaks, his tone lowering a bit, like he’s revealing a secret. “Well, first off, you’re clearly not used to the whole concept of being taken care of,” he points out.

You scrunch up your face at that, causing him to snort and shake his head again as he reaches for the tea towel that hangs off your oven door, using it to dry his hands.

“See? That’s a typical reaction from someone who’s overly independent.” 

“I’m not overly independent. I’m perfectly fine.” 

Well aware of how you’re merely trying to defend yourself, Shiu then breaks out into a small smirk and leans across the counter, resting his elbows on the edge as he inches forward. His body ever so slowly attempting to enter as much of your space as he can. “Then you won’t mind if I keep doing what I’m doing, then?” he asks, raising his brow. “Without complaint.” 

At first, you don’t really understand what he means. Thanks to the fact that you’re more focused on the proximity of his face to yours, the comment entirely flies over your head. The sultry tone of his voice failing to hit your ears as you narrow your eyes and cock your head, trying to make sense of it all.

Because truthfully, he doesn’t make much sense to you. With his pretty face and casually, suave demeanour, you can’t understand why he’d willing to dote on you merely for the sake of sex. Or, why, despite your lack of answer to his statement, he remains entirely still —his patience unwavering even after you’ve let out a gentle huff. 

“I’ll warn you now, I tend to complain a lot.” 

“During sex?” 

Almost immediately, you close your eyes in embarrassment, remembering that the trajectory of your conversation has since changed to that, prompting you to sigh. “No, I mean, just like, in general.” 

In response, he lets out a chuckle, causing you to pinch the bridge of your nose and release a deep breath, trying desperately to figure out how to recover until you feel his hand gripping the curve of your elbow, guiding it down to rest on your thigh with gentle fingers. 

“Ah, so not during sex,” you then hear him say, the cool tone of his voice forcing your eyes to open back up realizing he’s now at your side, twirling your stool around to face him. “Noted.” 

Somehow feeling even more nervous, you open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Your appearance resembling the classic fish out of water look —all dead-eyed and empty-minded. Every previous thought and feeling lost once you’re ripped from the crest of the waves only to become wedged between his fingers. 

Which is a look that, unsurprisingly, makes him laugh as he lowers himself down to your level when he sits down next to you. While using his hand to curiously explore the exposed parts of your forearm, you can tell he’s enjoying your response. The way your body slightly twitches forward to chase his hand or how you uncomfortably shift and avoid his gaze. It’s obvious he finds it amusing, because not long after he’s drawing patterns into your calloused palm with a smile; his thumb circling each patch of roughness he finds, soothing the aches and pains of scrubbing bar tops and serving drinks.

“You’re not used to this much attention, are you?”

As he chuckles, you huff, unable to hide the obvious. “Not really, no.” 

“That’s a damn shame.” 

Suddenly, you feel his other hand move to steady the one he’s massaging; both thumbs dragging down the centre of your palm towards your wrist, causing you to hum and flex your fingers, the desire for more slowly growing. The needs you’ve long since pushed to the back of your mind returning with a vengeance in ways that make you swallow hard and glance between his face and the efforts of his labour. 

It makes your chest ache pretty much instantly; the sight. Considering it’s been ages since someone has touched you like this —like you simply deserve to be— you’re starting to feel a bit breathless. The gesture of his hands ripping the air straight from your lungs as you open your mouth again, needing to speak. 

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

It’s a question that’s pretty much driven you from the start. From the moment he first laid that hefty tip on the counter in front of you during your shift, you haven’t been able to stop yourself from wondering what he wants from you. Why he’s been so kind and giving despite knowing so little about you. 

In response, he shrugs his shoulders, continuing his ministrations. Refusing to stop for even a second as a small grin peels across his face and he looks up. “I don’t know. Felt like you needed it.”

And it sounds like nothing when he says it. All nonchalant and casual, as if he does this kind of thing all the time, but to you, it’s everything. It’s complicated, yet simple. Painful, yet pleasant. A reminder that sometimes you’re human and need these kinds of things despite constantly brushing them off. 

More importantly, though, it makes you feel desperate as your other hand shifts through the air to cup his cheek. And again when you suddenly lean in, pressing your mouth to his in order to finally taste the smoke on his tongue from your shared cigarette. The bitter flavour embedding itself in the cracks of your lips, driving you to push through the voice at the back of your mind telling you to stop.

Because usually, that’s what you do. Whenever you feel any sort of tether, you take a knife and sever them off; refusing to get close. Defying the urge to connect in order to protect yourself. Avoiding the offers of hands that might want to hold you through the hard times. 

However, beneath your touch, as Shiu stills for a moment in response, you don’t feel that at all. Instead, you just feel magnetized. The desire to move closer taking over when he inevitably joins by moving a hand to your waist —another to the back of your neck to pull himself further in. 

Humming softly, you then feel him tense beneath your fingers as you hungrily pull at his clothes. The rough touch of your roaming hands trying to find purchase in a place where the distance will hopefully feel less separate, driving him mad as he lifts you onto the counter and groans. Both of his hands returning the favour in unrestrained pushes and pulls as he maneuvers you to his liking and grins. 

“Can’t say I was expecting that,” he ends up telling you after you part ways; his tone haggard and heavy. The obvious presence of desire gracing the base of his throat, causing the heavy puffs of breath you share to quickly become the only sound other than the shuffling of fabric as he slides his fingers across the waistband of your jeans. 

“Me either, to be fair.” 

His grin widens a bit at that. “Not in the habit of kissing strangers I’m guessing?”

As you go to shake your head, you feel his fingers start to fiddle with the top button of your pants. His knuckles brushing against the exposed parts of your lower stomach. Every subtle motion making you feel incredibly warm as your own hands find a home in the fabric of his collar. 

“I tend to leave before the kissing happens. If I’m honest.”

“How come?”

You shrug, not wanting to get into it. Instead, wanting to feel what it’s like to continue moving forward and propel yourself into the unknown as you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes. Your scattered mind gradually calming down when his fingers understand what you need and begin to discard the lower half of your clothes. Each piece of fabric clumsily shifting off your skin, prompting Shiu to curse under his breath while you laugh and lift your hips to help. 

“Could you wear tighter fucking jeans, Jesus, it’s like a damn chastity belt.”

You snort and feel his fingers immediately pull your underwear to the side once he tosses your pants onto the floor. The dip of his mouth open and already watering, causing you to let out a panicked sound when he licks a long strip up your slit.

“Just relax.” 

The immediate heat of his words only serve to do the opposite as you try and shift your hips away only to be brought back and dove into once more. His hands now embedding themselves into your thighs to get a better angle, causing you to huff. 

“Wait, it’s okay. You don’t have—“

You’re immediately silenced by the flattening of his tongue alongside his eyes which turn up in annoyance. His obvious distaste for your constant protesting becoming old, especially now that his mouth is wrapped around you, making your resolve quickly melt away when he applies a bit more pressure. 

Breathing hard, you then keep your eyes locked downward, watching him pinch your thighs and explore with his tongue. The act of him pleasuring you for the sake of nothing in particular causing your mind to fog up. All the nervous energy you once felt seemingly evaporating like a puff of hot smoke now that he’s trailing his tongue through your folds, languidly inching his way across every nerve in search of something new. Like he’s mapping you out while he listens to every breath that falls from your open lips. Each pant spurring him further, prompting him to push his nose against your clit, prodding it with every movement he makes alongside the fingers that start to part your entrance.

Which overwhelms you completely. The presence of too many stimuli at once making you whimper under your breath and try to sneak away again. Your body craving some sort of release once you feel his tongue forcefully slip into your cunt; the softness of it slipping up and around until his face is practically embedding itself in your flesh. Joining you as one in ways that have you reaching for his hair just for something to keep you steady.

Because right now, you’re teetering on the edge of something. A precipice that you know should feel familiar, yet remains distant in knowledge. The feeling of him wrapped up in your thighs, eating you out like a man who’s never known the taste of something so sweet, causing you to revert to basic instincts. To touch and feel and groan and listen —every sense melding together as he pushes you over the edge and the rush of that something becomes everything at once.

He’s all you feel as you come. Quickly becoming all you want, too, when he ultimately pulls away, breathing so hard you honestly fear he might pass out on the spot. 

“You okay?” you can’t help but ask, causing both of you to smile as he wipes you off his chin and laps it up with a nod.

“I should be asking you that. You look—”

“Rough?”

He scoffs out a laugh and cups the side of your neck. Then, he shakes his head and runs his thumb along your cheek, gently caressing you. “No, you look good. Just a little out of it.”

In response, you hum and let your eyelids shift downward, realizing then that you’re incredibly exhausted. Your body becoming loose and low —relying on his touch to keep you afloat as you reach for his shoulders. “I’m a little tired.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, mentally preparing to apologize and explain why until he starts maneuvering you like earlier. His hands gently forcing your legs to wrap around his waist as he lifts and moves you further into the depths of your apartment in search of your bed.

“Where am I going?”

You point to the end of the hall, feeling him shift. The sounds of his feet padding across the hardwood becoming the only noise between you until he hits the carpet of your bedroom and thoughtfully hums. 

At which point, you’re already half asleep in his arms. The weight of the day finally hitting your mind when he lays you out across the bed only to linger above you, watching your eyes flicker. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out then, causing him to raise a brow and bring his face towards yours. 

“What for?”

In your increasingly tired state, you huff and raise your hands to your eyes, rubbing them gently. “I didn’t return the favour.” 

“Favour?” He scoffs out a laugh, his head dipping to playfully bump your noses together. “What do you mean?”

“You just… you did all that stuff for me and now I’m falling asleep.” 

“Okay, and?” 

He sounds almost offended that you would even insinuate that he cares. Something that you figure shouldn’t surprise you at this point considering he’s been nothing but giving. 

“And…” 

As you trail off, you suddenly force your eyes to open a bit wider —to be more present as you begin to work through the weight of your own exhaustion and pull him down. Allowing yourself to be the one to take the reins by kissing his mouth again. Forcing this need to solely be kind and chivalrous to disappear as you both start to rush through the fumbling of more discarded clothes. His obvious desire to continue whatever this is between you causing him to let you sit up to discard his tie and untuck his shirt. Your fingers clawing at item after item in a mess of blissed-out confusion until eventually he’s buried deep inside of you, groaning your name. 

Which only fuels the impulse to be the one to take care of him. To show your appreciation for the company and the food and everything in between as you somehow shift to the top. Your body towering over his —hips melding together in a quick, steady rhythm of desperation.

“Relax,” you tell him then, leaning forward to run your hand across his cheek. “Let me take care of you this time.”

Despite the position you find yourselves in, he still manages to laugh. The call back to his behaviours making him merely roll his eyes and say, “Alright, go ahead then, sweetheart. Return your favour.” 

Smiling back, you do. Slowing down the movements of your hips so that you can work your way back up. Creating a tension of needy fingers that grip onto your sides, helping guide you through the ebbs and flows of his cock. And at first, it’s nice —simple. The constant drift between you making you feel a bit lightheaded as you both mumble each other’s praises between lazy kisses. But then, you feel yourself melting further down. Your consciousness beginning to falter with every push and pull until he’s left doing all the work again.

Letting out a laugh, he wraps an arm around your torso and kisses your face, still pistoning up. “What happened to all that… hospitality you were boasting about?” he jokingly chastises between breaths, glancing down to see that your eyes are already closed; your breath heavy as you let out a groan. 

“Too tired,” you mumble out. “I’ll make it up… tomorrow.” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Shiu manages to hear it. And soon after, thankfully accept it too as he slows back down again, eventually stopping to breathe until he sees you lift your head and shake it. 

“What? You want me to keep going?” 

You just nod and drop your head back down again, hearing him scoff and follow through. Every muscle in your body feeling simultaneously loose and tight once he begins to move again, gently dragging himself in and out and quietly groaning as you slowly drift to sleep, already dreaming about tomorrow.  

A TO Z YOU'RE MY TYPE, YEAH / ilyhaitanii's kinktober event !!!

--- warning: the following content is not safe for children. the thrilling stories you are about to read may contain dark content. viewer discretion is advised. the following stories will include actors (characters) from the hit tvshows/games: love and deepspace, tokyo revengers, honkai star rail, and jujutsu kaisen. without further ado, enjoy the film.

(A)PHRODISIAC - XAVIER SHEN

your darling partner, and long-time boyfriend can't help but always have his hands on you. in public, he's a little less clingy, but what happens when the two of you come across a plant that admits fumes that are laced with an aphrodisiac? will he be able to contain himself in front of everyone, or will he tug you away and take you right in the grass?

cw: aphrodisiac, semi-public sex, overstim, lots of fluids, and biting (?)

(B)ONDAGE - RAFAYEL QI

your bratty boyfriend is such a pain in the ass-- but you're even worse. when rafayel comes home, desperately needing your touch, you can't help but want to tease him just a bit more-- give him a taste of his own medicine.

cw: ropes, edging, sub!rafayel, blindfold

(C)OCKWARMING - ZAYNE LI

your very grumpy and tired husband needs a little motivation to get his work done. lucky for you, he has you in his lap, needy and soaked as you wait for him to be done. at least you both get a treat at the end!

cw: nothing, he's pretty tame

(D)IRTY TALK - SYLUS QIN

sylus cannot go to sleep without hearing your voice at least once throughout the day. as annoying as it is to have him call you at the ass-crack of dawn just so he can fall asleep, he always makes sure you're satisfied before drifting back into the last portion of your slumber.

cw: phone sex, lots of teasing, he's filthy with his words, voice kink (?), guided masturbation

(E)DGING - SYLUS QIN

as sweet as sylus can be-- always caring about making you cum before him-- he can be just as mean. so, when you've teased sylus all throughout the night, dancing with other man, giggling and harmlessly flirting with them, sylus has enough and decides it's time for you to be put in your place.

cw: semi-public sex, panties as a gag, infidelity (but it's to rile him up), orgasm denial, voice kink (?)

(F)INGERING - SHUJI HANMA

after watching a drive thru-horror movie with your boyfriend, he takes you home on his bike. however, one thing leads to another and somehow, you're bent over his bike taking his fingers? how scary . . .

cw: semi-public, dirty talk, slight fear play, teasing, dry humping, teasing

(G)ROUP - BONTEN TRIO

the infamous bonten trio, ran and rindou haitani, and haruchiyo sanzu are a scary trio. at home however, they're the most doting boyfriends you could've asked for. a bad day at work leads to the three of them pampering you, allowing you to feel the love they all hold for you.

cw: foursome, overstimulation, praise, way too many hand-jobs, dirty talk, mention of a gun (like one time-- it's haru come on.)

(I)NCUBI - RAN HAITANI

congrats on your graduation from virginhood! thanks to an incubi you managed to summon, he was able to help you finally get rid of your virginity. not so thankfully, you might be ruined for life.

cw: dark content-ish, choking, loss of virginity, dumbification (?), overstim, minor choking

(S)IZE DIFFERENCE: JING YUAN

the general is just so . . . big! he towers over you, his hands are larger than your shoulders, his one hand is able to wrap around your ankle, he's massive and he knows it too. far too often, the general loves to show off his strength to you, showing you just how small you are compared to him

cw: dark content, sparring, sweaty sex, teacher/student-ish dynamics, bullying, overstim

(T)HIGH RIDING: ARGENTI

your beloved knight shields you from the eyes of the public-- stepping between you are your subjects when they venture far too close to the you, their princess. after a horrible run-in with a subject who despises your father, your darling knight is there to comfort you.

cw: knight and princess dynamics, praise, soft and sweet, argenti service top agenda

(V)OYERISM - AVENTURINE

you're his good luck charm-- the pretty thing that sits on his lap and guarentees aventurine a big buck. more than often, aven will bend you over the poker table in front of all his opponents-- throwing them off their game. today is just another day of being his little lucky girl

cw: public sex, hair pulling, humiliation, aftercare

(W)EBCAM - TOJI FUSHIGURO

being chased through the woods while trying to record yourself was truly an unique experience. not to mention, the scary man chasing you— the one wearing that ghost mask— may or may not film him fucking you into the ground when he catches you . . . creepy isn’t it?

cw: prey/hunter, filming (so ig public sex…?), reader is a camgirl, established relationship with toji, spanking, doggy

(X)-RATED VIDEOS - SHIU KONG

shiu is a man of discipline. with a cigarette in his mouth, and with a pretty virgin sitting beside him, shiu decides to open your eyes to the world of explicit videos, porn. so what happens when he riles you up too much. would you want to recreate a few scenes?

cw: mutual masturbation, hand jobs, oral (fem!receiving), teasing, virginity loss, age gap (shiu is 42, reader is 22)

ZZZ (SOMNO) - KENTO NANAMI

your beloved husband works overtime far too often. but by the time he gets home, wanting to bury his head (the lower one) between your thighs, you’re fast asleep. to heal his stress? you allow him to touch you at your most vulnerable— while you’re fast asleep.

cw: somnophillia, clit play, soft sex, nothing too crazy

© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagiarize

ok im so so so sappy rn and imagining first looks at your wedding with toji. when just you, your almost husband, and the photographer meet up to see each other for the first time together, in private, before the ceremony. you have your backs to each other, and the second you both turn around, toji is, for once in his life, speechless - save for the loud gasp he can’t help but let out.

his eyes are wide and pupils blown as he takes in your absolutely stunning outfit, whether that be a dress or tux, perfect makeup if you’re wearing it, and expertly styled hair. he of course looks stunning too, and you’re glad you opted for waterproof mascara because tears immediately spring to your eyes. you’ve gone to formal events before which he’s dressed up for, but you’ve never seen him like this. in a perfectly tailored suit with slicked back hair, a foreign but welcome juxtaposition to his usual mop of hair, and a little flower tucked into his suit pocket.

“you- i- i-” he stutters, at a complete loss for words as tears gather at the corners of his eyes.

“you look- wow,” you giggle, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face.

toji grins, wiping at his eyes before he does the only thing he can think to do, and that’s gather you into a crushing hug before planting a deep kiss to your lips. of course, the photographer captures every second.

it hits you just how truly, madly, deeply you’re in love with this man, and how forever will never be long enough to spend with him.

I FELT MY HEART FLUTTER WHILE READING AND THE DESIGNS ARE JUST THE CUTEST AND MOST CREATIVE ♡♡(also bonus point for shiu I've been in a shiu drought 😞)

JJK MEN as DADS - fluff drabble

☆summary. fluff moment between jjk men and their kids - each character as a different scenario.

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, jjk men as dads

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I had so much fun writing this cute drabble! I hope you can awwww like I did!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso Kamo | Shiu Kong

The Unbeatable Claw Machine Champion... or Not

The brightly lit arcade buzzed with energy, kids running around with excitement. Gojo stood in front of the claw machine, eyes narrowed with concentration. His son was bouncing beside him, eyes wide and filled with hope as he pointed at the cute panda plushy inside.

“Alright, watch the master at work,” Gojo said, cracking his knuckles dramatically.

His son giggled, clutching his favorite toy—a tiny batman plushy . The claw descended slowly, aimed perfectly for the panda, but just as it was about to grab it, the claw slipped, and the plushy tumbled back into the pile.

“Darn it!” Gojo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This thing’s rigged!”

His son tugged on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Dad! You can try again!”

Gojo puffed out his chest, determined now more than ever. “I won’t give up! My honor is on the line!”

Five attempts later, Gojo had spent an embarrassing amount of money and still hadn’t won the plushy. His son was laughing now, clutching his sides as Gojo groaned in defeat.

“I swear I could exorcise curses, but I can’t win a simple claw game,” Gojo muttered, shaking his head.

His son grinned, tugging on his sleeve again. “It’s okay, Daddy. You’re still the best!”

Gojo couldn’t help but smile at that. “Alright, but next time, that panda is mine.”

Daddy’s Little Helper

It was a quiet, early morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains. Nanami sat on the edge of the bed, his tie draped loosely around his neck, waiting patiently as his daughter, a serious expression on her face, stood in front of him. She was determined to tie it properly, her little fingers fumbling with the knot as she tried to remember the steps he’d shown her.

“Over... under... then around, right, Daddy?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Nanami chuckled softly, resisting the urge to fix the tie himself. He adored these little moments—her small hands trying to help him get ready for work. “That’s right, but remember to pull it tight here.” He pointed at the knot gently.

After a few more seconds of struggle, she stepped back, triumphant. The tie was crooked, the knot slightly uneven, but she beamed up at him, proud of her work. Nanami looked down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her toothy grin.

“How do I look?” he asked, adjusting the tie slightly but leaving her knot mostly intact.

“You look perfect!” she said, bouncing on her feet, her happiness contagious.

He crouched down to her level and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll wear it just like this today.”

Dr. Megumi to the Rescue

Toji lounged on the couch, an amused smirk on his face as he watched little Megumi waddle over. The boy was wearing one of Toji’s oversized button-up shirts, the fabric hanging off him like a giant lab coat. He had a plastic stethoscope draped around his neck, and a toy doctor’s kit in one hand.

“I’m Doctor Megumi,” he declared, his face serious as he climbed onto the couch beside his dad. “I’m gonna fix your boo-boo.”

Toji raised an eyebrow, leaning back as Megumi got to work. “Oh yeah? Gonna fix me up, huh? How are you gonna do that, Doc?”

Megumi frowned in concentration, gently poking at the scar on Toji’s lip. “First, I gotta check if it hurts.”

Toji played along, letting out a fake groan. “Ouch, yeah, definitely hurts.”

Megumi nodded, taking this very seriously. He grabbed a band-aid from his kit and awkwardly pressed it onto his dad’s lip, the bandage far too big and covering half of Toji’s mouth.

“There. All better!” Megumi said proudly, climbing off the couch to admire his work.

Toji looked at his son, the band-aid dangling off his lip, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re pretty good at this, Doc. Think I’m gonna be okay now?”

Megumi gave a firm nod. “Yup! But you gotta keep the band-aid on forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Toji ruffled his son’s hair. “Alright, if the doctor says so.”

Braids and Giggles

Suguru sat on the floor, his back against the couch as his little girl stood behind him, combing through his long hair with wide, curious eyes. Her fingers twisted the strands in every direction, her tiny hands moving in random patterns as she tried her hardest to braid it.

“Are you sure this is gonna look good, sweetie?” Suguru asked, his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“Yep! I’m almost done, Daddy! You’re gonna look soooo pretty!” she said, her voice full of excitement.

Suguru chuckled, sitting patiently as she continued to twist and tangle his hair. A few moments later, she clapped her hands together, signaling she was finished. “Okay! Done!”

Suguru reached up, feeling the lopsided, uneven braid she had made. Some pieces were sticking out, others were barely in the braid at all, but her eyes were sparkling with pride.

He turned to her with a warm smile. “What do you think? Do I look pretty now?”

His daughter nodded enthusiastically. “The prettiest!”

Suguru chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Then I guess I’m ready for the day. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Choso sat on the floor in front of the mirror, his lips painted bright pink, his eyeshadow a chaotic mix of colors that his daughter had lovingly applied. She was concentrating, brushing his hair with a little comb while humming to herself.

The Sparkliest Runway Star

“You’re almost ready for the runway, Daddy!” she announced proudly, pulling out a sparkly headband and placing it on his head.

Choso smiled softly, watching her work with so much joy. “You think Mom’s going to be impressed?”

His daughter beamed, nodding excitedly. “She’s gonna love it! You’re gonna look like a princess!”

Choso chuckled at that, glancing at his reflection. He certainly didn’t look like a fierce curse user anymore. Instead, he looked like a very sparkly, dolled-up dad. But seeing how happy it made his daughter, he didn’t mind one bit.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go show Mom,” Choso said, standing up and offering her his hand.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, to find Y/N. As soon as they entered the room, Y/N burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand as she took in the sight of Choso in full makeup and glitter.

“Oh wow, look at you two,” she said, grinning.

Choso gave a mock-serious pose. “What do you think? Do I have a future in runway modeling?”

Their daughter clapped her hands, bouncing on her feet. “He looks like a princess, right, Mom?”

Y/N nodded, laughing. “The most beautiful princess.”

The Nerf Ambush Gone Wrong

Shiu and his son were in the middle of an intense Nerf battle, ducking behind makeshift forts of pillows and couches. Both were armed, giggling as they took aim at each other. Shiu peeked around the corner, ready to fire, when suddenly—

Thwack!

“Ah!” came a voice from the hallway.

Both froze. The Nerf darts had gone rogue and hit you, who had been peacefully carrying a laundry basket. You stood there, eyebrows raised, clearly unimpressed.

Shiu immediately dropped his Nerf gun, hands up in surrender. “It was an accident, I swear!”

Your son giggled nervously. “Sorry, Mommy!”

You just shook your head, grinning. "Now, help me pick up these darts."

You sighed dramatically, placing the laundry down and shaking your head, pretending to be serious. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to play...”

Without warning, you snatched up one of the extra Nerf guns from the couch and shot both of them with a perfect aim. Shiu stumbled back, clutching his chest in mock pain. “Oh no, she’s too powerful!” he said, collapsing onto the floor dramatically.

Your son immediately joined in on the fun, laughing as he ran to hide behind you, the tide of the battle turning in your favor.

Shiu stayed on the ground, dramatically pretending to be defeated. “Looks like you’ve won, but this isn’t over...”

MASTERLIST

AAAAA CLAWING AT MY WALLS THIS IS SO ARGGG ♡♡

MINORS DNI-FEM!READER, brief smut(p in v, spank) fluff. Words 839

You married Shiu Kong the day before Valentine's Day on a brisk February evening in the quaint yet elegant Italian restaurant he took you to on your first date. The whole restaurant was booked for the special occasion, backdrop dimly illuminated by candelight as you pledged your love to one another in front of a roaring hearth with an intimate guest list of only your closest and dearest loved ones. 

He wore a white tux and your wedding dress was satin with matching gloves and bow that sat below the small of your back atop the silky train that glided over the black and white marbled floors. You wore pearl earrings with gold embossed edges, carrying soft pink roses and baby's breath. 

"Where are you taking me, Shiu, darling?" You asked as your new husband draped his jacket around your shoulders after extinguishing an emerald cigar. 

"Somewhere special, doll face, just you wait."

He guides you to the awaiting car the valet parked in front, the engine purring whitened smoke onto the frozen streets as your breath hung in the air. 

He helps you into the passenger seat, minding your dress and making sure you don't fall, white boxes of wedding presents with black ribbons and handwritten cards overfilling the backseat. 

He drives you just out of the city and into a quiet neighborhood to a charming Victorian house at the end of a private drive. It's white with black shutters and a large wraparound porch, surrounded by cherry blossom trees shrouded in February snow. 

"It's absolutely gorgeous." You smile and take your husband's hand and he sweeps you into a bridal style carry just before you can cross the threshold. 

"What kind of man am I if I don't get Mrs. Kong to her honeymoon properly?" 

"You're so sweet, Shiu." 

"It's only tradition, doll." 

You spend the evening talking, eating the cheese & wine you brought home from the reception, making love after a warm bath and he left lots of love marks on your inner thighs. 

The next day is Valentine's Day & you spent the whole day in bed, slow, loving on each other. Taking back time that escaped you both for so long for when he'd be away at work. 

Your honeymoon is far from spectacular, but the warmth of enjoying one another at last without interruption made it paradise. 

"I never want to leave..." You whisper to him as you laid bare together in the dark. The faint indigo of outside drew a shadow on the windowsill, already dusted with the steadfast beginnings of silent snowfall. 

Shiu studies the window before he looks down at you, a smile tugging at his lips as you trace the tattoo on his shoulder. 

"What if I told you we weren't leaving, doll?" 

You look at him curiously, your chin balanced on his chest and he smirks as he pauses for a moment to lean over and extinguish the cigarette he held between his fingers and breathe out a final puff of smoke, smug with the element of pleasant surprise he was harboring. The best wedding gift of all. 

"Wha...?" 

"This is our home." He smiles. "When I brought you here, I really brought you to where we'd start our life together, doll. Happy Valentine's Day." 

"Shiu..." You kiss him deeply with watery eyes. "Stop....no. No...oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you, baby...." 

"Are ya happy, Mrs. Kong...?" He asks softly with closed eyes, his warm mouth opens against yours. 

"The happiest..." You groan as his lips find your pulse. "...I  could ever feel." Your fingers lock slowly around his cock and he sucks in air sharply between his teeth. 

"Get up here..." He whispers as he pulls you into his lap. You giggle as he sucks your left tit into his mouth and he gives your ass a playful smack. 

His eyes of simmering walnut seemed to darken even more as he gazed up at you hovering above him, emblematic of how he truly viewed you: his queen, his angel. His hands roam from your ass, to your thighs, and back, guiding you dangerously over his growing cock. 

"Why don't ya prove it, doll?" He taunts as he leans back. He breathes out as you turn around, throwing your head back as you straddle him in reverse cowgirl. 

"I will, Mr. Kong..." And you did as your bodies connected, heat of desire overtaking his entire body as he slid slowly back inside of you. The euphoric, wet friction from his love he buried inside you earlier quickly dissolving the initial stretch and awakening that feeling, so damn warm and addicting. He moans your name and his finger finds your silky clit, forcing you to see heaven as you begin the slow rise and fall of your hips with his cock nestled snugly inside you. 

Gasps and sighs and his name falling out of your mouth over and over again in sinful melody as you slowly made love in the dark in your newly christened home.

----

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe

♡♡♡

headcannons in the day in the life of nasty perverted shiu and his dollface 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

when I think about shiu and his dollface I feel like their first meet cute would be him as her bodyguard or just 2 random people bumping into each other BOOM it's love at first sight lol.

I KNOWWWW shiu's a nasty nasty man the only thing no one suspects him of being so perverted is because he cleans up good unlike toji ☠️ maybe he's on a job and he sees a pretty girl with dolled up in a cardigan and a long flowy skirt and he locks eyes with her, i know shiu's a confident man and he walks up to her talks her up offering to pay for her blueberry danish paired with a chocolate frappe and he walks her home abandoning the car he rode in and abandoning toji 😭😭😭😭

fast forward a few months later both are head of heels for each other shiu rented out his old flat and moved into his dollface's comfy home, he remembers how life has changed once his pretty doll entered into his life. he compares her to the sunshine he always needed she's the shot of espresso he always craved for and ultimately he's grateful that he's been blessed with a life to look forward too but that doesn't stop him from being a huge pervert when it comes to his dollface.

he's always been the type to grab her ass while she innocently pecks him on the lips the normal make out session immediately becomes dirty because he can't help but squeeze her soft mounds through her sundress the way he'd grope her ass her hips all the way sliding his grimy hands under her gown to play with the fabric of her drenched panties :(( she gets up from his lap all flushed and flustered saying that she has to get the groceries and he says that he'll accompany her wherever she wants to go.

he's the type to finger you while driving, focusing on the road with a bland expression while you are being driven to the best orgasm of your life that too in his car. he's the type to steal his dollface's previously used underwear to jerk off I TOLD U HE'S NASTYYYYY.

won't even let her cook in peace the minute he sees her stirring some curry while wearing an apron he goes and back hugs her and starts humping her ass in broad daylight. he couldn't care less that she's distracted and the Curry's gonna burn all he wants is to remove your shorts and just see his cum dripping off your ass leaving you and see you frustrated from not having to orgasm.

it's even worse when you're doing your nighttime routine before bed, he'd constantly say that the only white cream you need to be moisturising your face is with his cum, or he's just gonna start jerking off in front of you while you're applying your body lotion why don't you understand seeing his dollface apply lotion is so erotic in his eyes? the way you glow and smell good is just making him so horny.

anways I'll expand on this later ☝🏻