AAAAA CLAWING AT MY WALLS THIS IS SO ARGGG

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

🤭🤭

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ SHARING IS CARING. featuring s. kong + t. fushiguro.

↻ shiu gives toji an offer too good to refuse.

tags : voyeurism, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, cowgirl, mentions of threesomes, slut shaming // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : there isn’t enough shiu content out there ‘m afraid, and it HURTS MEE considering i love him from infinity 2 infinity. toji and shiu are the BADDEST 2man out there and i for one would not mind gettin backshots from both ;p as always, notes n reblogs are much appreciated !! (and thank you for 300 followers!)

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

for TOJI FUSHIGURO, finding work is hard. he can’t exactly just stroll into the next place that’s hiring and hand in his cv like every other person, because unlike every other person, toji’s cv would be filled to the brim with the names of all the people he’s killed.

toji fushiguro is an assassin, and it would be a lie to say that sometimes he doesn’t hate his fucking job.

“you got anything for me?” he sits on his beaten up couch, chopsticks in hand and horse races on the television as he slurps up the last of his cup ramen. “c’mon, boss. there’s gotta be somethin’. everybody wants somebody dead these days.”

“i’m afraid not.” his boss, or more, his contractor, SHIU sighs on the other end of the line. “i told you i’d call if i had anything. work’s tight for me too.”

the line goes silent, and although shiu hasn’t quite hung up yet, toji throws back his head and groans. how hard is it for an assassin to find somebody to kill these days? the whole gig isn’t particularly helpful, either. he gets paid in lump amounts with no idea when his next job is coming through, and at times like this, toji does in fact consider paying a visit to the job centre.

just as he’s about to thank shiu for jack shit and hang up, a muffled whine on the other line drags him out of his thoughts.

“you got your girl there with you, boss?”

“i’m at home. ‘course she’s here with me.”

toji smiles. “hi there, lil’lady. whatcha up to?”

on the other end of the line, you bury your head into shiu’s neck, face flushed as you halt all movement on his lap. “nothin’.”

“don’t sound like nothin’ to me, doll. he treatin’ you good?” toji hears shiu laugh quietly through the phone.

“she doesn’t answer to you, idiot. and for the record, i’m givin’ her everything she needs and more, isn’t that right, baby?” he grinds his hips upwards and you gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging your sweet spot. “tell him how good ‘m treatin’ you.”

by this point, toji’s muted the races and put down his chopsticks, switching his phone to loudspeaker and balancing it on his shoulder so he can hear every sweet sound you’re making. his cock is out of his sweats in no time, precum staining his shirt as his tip presses up onto his abdomen.

“ ‘s g-good,” you hiccup, tears in your eyes as shiu rests a hand on your ass and starts to move you back and forth on his length. “so good, ‘n so big.”

“mm, bet that’s right, angel,” toji drawls, hand occupied with fisting his cock in time with the faint shlicking sounds echoing through his speaker. “how ‘bout next time, you get two cocks instead of one?”

“don’t get too ahead of yourself, zenin. she’s my bitch.” shiu’s tone is sour as he bucks his hips upwards, causing you to whine out.

“yeah, but I bet that slut would take it if we gave it to her.” toji grins, hand quickening when he hears you groan on the other end of the line. “sounds like she’d like that. ‘n i already told you, it’s fushiguro.”

“same difference.” it sounds like shiu’s struggling to maintain an even tone when he feels you clench down on him hard, teeth gritting as your nails dig into the fabric of his suit. “but i agree, it seems like she likes your idea. next time, instead of paying you a lump sum, i’ll let you fuck her instead.”

toji smiles, head tilting backwards as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. “nuh-uh, i still want my money.” his thumb flicks over the slit on his tip, swiping up the precum and spreading it along his pulsing length. “but i’ll take you up on your offer. cant want to try out her sweet cunt.”

on the other end of the line, you squeal, walls clamping down on shiu as you reach your climax. a loud slap resounds through toji’s phone and he grunts, ropes of white painting his knuckles as he finishes in his palm.

“she came too early. only started fuckin’ her since the time you called.”

“sounds like you haven’t been treating your bitch too well, boss, otherwise she wouldn't have been so desperate.” toji smiles, looking at the mess on his hands and shirt. “call me when you have another job. can’t wait to get my sweet reward.”

and with that, he hangs up.

PREVIOUS : DRESS UP DOLL ft. satoru gojo NEXT : FWB ft. aki hayakawa

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

i agree with the prev anon about shiu 😭 i just can't get bimbo reader x shiu out of my mind after that

OH MY GODD that made me froth :< // prev; alt !! f!reader; daddy kink; shiu's big horny always teehee // divider by @/plutism!!

shiu loves you so much; he loves spoiling you lots.

you're a sight for sore eyes, round and sweet, but that's not what only gets him going—you're kind to a fault, looking up at him all starry-eyed like he's not a bad man. like he's not broken and angry, and all mangled from within until it has him toying with people's moralities.

his empire stands firm from the shadows as proof of that.

you curl in his arms, so giggly and bright, almost like you're unknowing of what he does, of what he's capable of, but you've always known better than anyone else. after all, shiu trusts no one more than he trusts you.

you are so, so lovely; stoking his desires, filling him up with this miasmic need that burns from within. he aches every time, so desperate to feel you. to touch you. to have one more taste because you've turned shiu insatiable, his hunger constant, burrowing deep in the yawning of his stomach.

he wants more from you. he will always want more.

.

"daddy?" you call, pattering out of your room with a little pout. shiu's quick to drop the call, not bothering to say any goodbyes to toji, and turns all of his attention to you.

he gulps, feeling himself chub up underneath his slacks. you've got your neon green tube top on, the fabric taut as it clings to your skin. there's a little slip of cut by the front of it, and all that's keeping the fabric twined together are the little straps that converge in an 'X', framing your pretty tits in a way that has his throat constricting, his thirst palpable as it rolls off him in waves.

you don't notice of course, eyes turned to the baby blue slip of a dress you're carrying.

"hi, sweet'art," he croaks out, pulling your attention back to him, almost pleading.

you look up, blinking like you've forgotten he was there or that you were even asking for him, before a smile dances on your lips, tugging that kissable pout away.

"shiu!" you say, giddy, bouncing in your place and it—

jesus, it makes your tits wobble, your tight tube top not really doing anything to hide the fact that you don't got a bra on.

you tryna kill him or somethin', doll?

"c'mere," he grunts, patting at his lap.

you fall on top of him with a squeal, all your tender parts dimpling as you nuzzle close, humming in delight when shiu brushes his lips on your forehead. he adjusts himself on the seat, arm curling around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer.

"so what's got you into a tizzy?" shiu asks, rubbing his hand atop your belly, his cock chubbing up even more at the softness of your pudge.

"oh," you murmur, breathless, your eyes tracking his caresses. "was jus' wonderin' if i should wear this top or the blue dress, s'all."

"yeah?" shiu begins peppering kisses along the shell of your ear, huffing when you squeak, body jolting at the ticklish feeling that his stubble makes. "and y'wanted daddy's thoughts, s'that it?"

"mhmm." you sound distant. distracted.

shiu trembles, just as dizzy with his need. he wonders if he can coax you out of that outing you were planning with your friends. he wonders if he can ask you to stay because there's something else he'd rather do than pretend he can stand toji.

(maybe he'll have you kiss his cock and have you smear that lipgloss all over the leaking slit; or have you sit on his face since it's been a while since he's got a taste, and shiu is parched.

or maybe he'll have you ride him, give him a view of those pretty tits bouncing, your nipples hard and in need of being sucked on. maybe he'll make a mess out of that top, yeah? lick you through it, watch it go damp and see-through, until the green of your top is muddled with the colour of your areolas.

or maybe he'll breed you, huh darlin'? you'd want that, wouldn't you? have him fulfill his promises—make a mom out of you?)

"well, baby," shiu begins, his voice gruff as he pulls himself out of his imaginations. he kisses the slope of your neck, and breathes in the smell of your body wash. "i do love that green top—shows more of y'r girls, doesn't it?"

you giggle, almost a touch shy, before nodding. shiu's heart swells, the aching need in the pit of his stomach peaking, bloating. he can't help himself—his darling love is warm on top of him, beautiful and soft. a lesser man would've crumbled faster; pawing at your body, hand rough as it fondles your tit—

really, shiu deserves a goddamn award for how saintly he's acting; holding back like he's not leaking in his boxers.

but he remembers how excited you've been about this night out and shiu would rather fuck his fist than ever be the cause of your disappointment, so he takes a ragged breath in, leashing his desires back in the pit of his stomach, weaving it beneath his blood, and taps your hip to send you off.

you climb out of his lap with a huff before you twirl, bending forward and planting a sloppy kiss on his lip. they go away sticky, marked by your lipgloss.

"see you later, daddy," you trill, waving, before you run back to the room. shiu can only grunt, unable to trust his weakened voice.

.

driven by his deprivation, shiu fishes a lingerie out of your hamper and pockets it. he'll need it for later—the night is young.

-

john’s version

Fuck this was so well written ♡

Dangerous decision.ᐟ

the jjk men get a haircut when you're ovulating? yeah, it was on purpose

✰ including [separate] Nanami x reader, Gojo x reader, Toji x reader, Geto x reader, Sukuna x reader, Choso x reader, Higuruma x reader, Shiu x reader, Kusakabe x reader

✰ warnings. MDNI, fem!reader, established relationships, unprotected sex, overstímulation, bite marks + hickeys, thigh riďing, jealousy, throat fuckiŋg, dirty talk, dacryphilia, rough sëx, praise, creampıe, pet names, HEAVY breeďing, oral (m + f), degradätion (‘bìtch’ and ‘whọre’ are used), nipple play, cüm play, mean and softdom Suguru, kinda mean Toji

✰ word count. 6k (I apologise in advance)

✰ A/N. my ovulation was in control and i made everyone’s problem

──────〃✰ NANAMI KENTO

You knew that allowing your husband to have an app to track your cycle could turn into a bad idea someday. Still, you trusted Kento. What was the worst thing he could do with that anyway? Come back home after work looking incredibly handsome?

Yes. That, exactly. 

He was half an hour late, and you were laying in bed when he came with flowers and chocolate in his hands, and smelling so good. God, it made you bite your lips just from looking at him. His loose tie and the perfect suit, it was almost too much to handle, especially when he said he had brought dinner and dessert, and that he got a haircut. 

And that was an hour ago. 

Now you were sitting on Nanami’s lap, riding his dick and holding tight on his broad shoulders, your nails digging on his skin, leaving red marks all over. None of you broke eye contact, Kento was too stunned for that, mouth half open and his rough, low moans out in the open just for you, fueling that feeling in your core. 

“Keep fucking going, love. Don’t stop.” Nanami groaned, his voice a few tones lower than usual, lost in the pleasure only you could give to him, his sweet wife unable to control yourself in your fertile period. The feeling of his cock buried deep inside you making the two of you lose your strengths. His hands holding tight on your hip and waist, guiding you through it when you started to feel tired.

“That’s my good girl, that’s right…”

His fingers were digging on your skin like you were doing with him, still letting you ride him at your own pace. And you felt like you couldn’t stop. Desperate for more, your hips moved up and down, riding him like he taught you, just how he liked it, feeling your gummy walls hot against his dick and the wetness of it making the sloppy sounds echo louder around you two. It hit on the right spots, making your eyes roll back. 

“You’re doing so good, fucking yourself on my cock like this, love.” you could feel his words turning that desperate key in your brain, making your hips roll back and forth, his dick hitting the right spots that made you moan his name in that needy tone he always loved. 

“’S’Too good, Ken.”

“Yeah? Too good to use your husband as a toy, pretty girl?” He smiled, his gaze locked on his lap and the way he was filling you. His hands tightened the grip on your hips when you felt weak, and started moving you with his own strength and pace as if you weighed nothing for him. “We’re not stopping now, you’re taking it.”

“Ken- Ngh- Please!” 

“Please, what, darling?” Nanami teased, leaned in to kiss and suck on the skin of your neck when you tried to babble something back. Your words getting lost in your throat when he moved his hips up and your body down, messily fucking you. Your hands moved up his shoulders to his neck, looking into his eyes with your mouth half open. “Come on, just one more and I’ll fill you up again.”

“Mngh- I can’t- Too much, Ken!”

“Yes, you can. I can feel how tight you are already,” He whispered, never stopping his movements against you and your movements against him. Your bodies colliding against the other, making that painful, sinful pleasure almost drives you insane. “Cum f’me, and I’ll make sure you’re filled enough to give me a baby, yeah?”

“Fuckfuckfuck, Kento!”

“Cum.”

──────〃✰ GOJO SATORU

It had been hours since Satoru got home after leaving to get his monthly haircut, and he still had you open for him in your shared, messy bed. Legs spread to give him the vision he always loved, your body on display for him to do what he wanted, what you loved. His hands holding tight on your thighs to keep you quiet and open for him, while he fucked you tortuously slow. 

“Toru, please,” You moaned, your hands tightly tied up with the fabric of his blindfold. Your hips moved down to meet him, barely hiding your needs from him. It only made him smile, squeezing your thighs. “Faster. And harder, please.”

“Fuuuuck, Sugar. You still can handle it? Are’ya sure?” 

He was teasing you, it was clear in his eyes, in his tone, but fuck it, you couldn’t care less. Every thrust, every throb, every time he looked down to see his whitish cum escaping from the sides of your sensitive folds, and every time you looked up into his eyes to see that dangerously addicted glow, both of you knew you would take it. 

“I need more, please.”

“I can’t deny anything when you ask so nicely.”

He smiled, a wide, feral grin while he pushed your legs even more, his body leaning in, closer and closer when he started to push himself against your aching, full pussy, each thrust harder, deeper and faster than the other. 

Satoru had his knees on the bed, placing his weight on top of yours while he picked up the pace, fucking you so mercilessly, giving in to the feeling of how wet you were against his dick. And how you moaned his name, your needy voice, tired from the long fucking sessions he put you through. 

“Ngh- Fuck! Oh-n-God!” You could barely keep your eyes open, Satoru was addicted to the feeling of his dick inside your wet and white painted walls, pounding good down on you, his tip dangerously hitting your cervix over and over again. 

“Heh- I felt that, baby. Cumming again, aren’t’ya?”

Gojo teased, groaning and moaning shamelessly in your ear when he felt your pussy throbbing against his dick, showing the last signs of strength while he fucked you again. With his left hand on the mattress to hold the weight of his torso, he slid his right hand up by your sides, squeezing your tits, marked by his teeth with noticeable red love bites, until he reached for your nape. 

“Gotta make ya come to a good view, sweet thing.” His hand forced on your nape, your head now leaning forward when he made you open your eyes. Curved underneath his body, you could see his painfully hard cock sliding in and out your wet pussy. The sight of it making you shiver and moan louder, that same feeling building up in your core. 

“Look at how good you’re takin’ me, hm?!” 

“Toru! Don’tstopdon’tstop!” You could barely manage to get the words out of your mouth, already cumming while you said it. Pussy throbbing at each and every thrust inside, harder and harder. The sweet vision of you two connected like that making you orgasm even better. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck darling,” He moaned loud, head moving down and his lips capturing the skin of your shoulders, leaving even more hickeys all over, marking you and letting clear that your body was his. “‘M’gonna cum too, Sugar. Fill you up again, right? Take it, fucking take it!”Tired, fucked into a mess, your right hand moved up until you touched his nape, your fingers feeling his undercut, the hair perfectly shaped, the reason you felt so needy when he came back. The reason why you were now taking one more load from him, leaving both of you tired when he pulled out, panting, just to see your body marked by his hickeys and bites, and the whitish cream leaking out of your reddish cunt. “Perfect, Sugar.”

──────〃✰ FUSHIGURO TOJI

Toji wasn’t exactly the type to care about how he looked, but you did. And that was why you had insisted on going with him when he said he would get a haircut. There were no big changes, just a trim here and there, but, somehow, the vision got you more excited than it should. Wetter than usual. 

But Toji saw it in another way. 

His woman in a barber shop full of men looking at her as if she was a piece of meat? He wouldn’t forget that. And he didn’t. Jealousy kicked in fast, even if he tried to deny it, and now that he got you on your knees, tears running down your face and mouth open around his cock, you could see the glimpse of that possessiveness in his eyes. 

“You enjoy the attention, don’ ya?” His voice was low, not hiding his pleasure. Asking you questions when you had your mouth full, his tip brushing against your throat. He made you take it, and made you look into his eyes while doing so. “But you’re mine, mama. All mine.”

He looked insatiable for you, a hungry man, discounting everything he felt inside on your poor mouth. “All mine to fuck like this, to feel ya moaning on my cock. Thaaat’s right.” Toji’s hand touched your cheek, feeling how full he left your mouth, snickering at the thought. 

Only when you tapped his thighs, he pulled away, letting you breathe while he pulled you onto the bed. Giving you only a few seconds to recover, Toji opened your legs for him, his thumb finding the way to your needy clit quickly, and let out his rage and jealousy on your poor cunt. 

You knew what would happen to you as soon as you felt him brush his tip on your pussy, spreading your wet folds. He smirked, seeing how it throbbed in expectation for his next move, but he took his time to tease you, to fill that damn hot egotistical side of his. 

“Ya see who does that to you, don’ ya?” 

“Fuck, yes, Toji! I need you,” Your moan was somewhat desperate, your voice showing the signs of your used throat. “Pleas-”

The word got lost in your throat when he moved his hips at once, his hard girth sliding in and opening you for him. No giving time for you to loosen up, no fingering you. He used your own wetness and your saliva on his cock to move and fill you in one thrust. Hands tight on your hips to keep you quiet when you squirm, trying to move. 

“No running away now, little thing,” He groaned, leaning on top of you, his hips rolling back just to give another harsh thrust in, your body jolting in the bed. “Ya asked for it, ‘m’gonna make you take it, inch by inch.”

When your eyes met his, and you tried to speak, Toji stood straight and started fucking you mercilessly, senseless. His hips slapped against yours as his hands moved your hips slightly up. He had his head hanging back, mouth open to moan for you, taking his frustrations and anger in you. 

“Always acting like a bratty little bitch when you’re all fertile and ready for me,” A low groan escaped his mouth when he touched that sweet spot inside that made you clench and scream his name, muffled against the back of your own hand. “You won’t be actin’ like that for long, pretty girl.”

“Oh my G- Fuck, Toji! Too much, bab-”

“‘S’never too much for you, c’mon,” His fingers tightened the grip on your skin, his digits marked on you like he owned you. Your body was sensitive, the ovulation always made you feel much more, and he knew it. “‘M’gonna make them stop lookin’ at my woman.” 

“Toji! I- I’m gonna c- I’m gonn-” Your babbling only made him move harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours was loud in the room, mixed with the wet sounds of your aching pussy and how wet you were, and coming more. Making it easier for him to slide in and out and fuck you however he wanted. 

“That’s my good girl, now I can fill you up” The man praised, stopping just enough to move you as if you were light as a feather, and sliding back inside once he had you on fours. Face down, ass up, like he so much loved. “Gotta make you a real mama and keep you just to myself.”

──────〃✰ GETO SUGURU

“How many times have I told you to behave, hm?”

His voice was low, giving you chills at every word spoken, his eyes focused on your movements on top of him. He had taught you how to ride his thigh properly, and it was his way to give you release without touching you. His way of torturing you. 

“‘M’So sorry, Sugu!” Your voice was shaky at this point, keeping your hands to yourself after he forbade you to touch him unless he said otherwise. You continued moving, rolling your hips back and forth, despite how tired you were. You still felt pleasure and wanted more. 

You wanted him inside, burying his cock in you as deep as he could, just how you loved it, but he was making you pay. Only a moment of jealousy and a small, snarky comment about you trimming his hair next time, and doing it better.

He wanted you to prove to him you could do one thing better, instead. Making yourself cum on his cock was never a hard task, but now, all you had was his thigh, over and over, and it didn’t matter how many times you came with his skin rubbing against your red, sensitive clit, and his praising and teasing, it was never enough for Suguru. 

“Now you’re sorry, it only took you, what, four orgasms?” 

“Please, Sugu! Please, I can’t-” 

You choked, that neediness showing in your voice, in your pleas, hoping he would give in this time. And continued moving, feeling the next orgasm build up in your core, your insides twitching around nothing when you wanted him there. 

“You can’t, love? Is it too much for your insatiable cunt?” He finally touched you, both hands gripping tight on your waist and thigh, forcing you to stay where you were, his smirk widening when he saw your legs shaking. “If it’s too much, you don’t want my cock, do you?”

It was a trap. A tricky question. It only made you groan in frustration. The sound made Suguru push his leg upwards with quite a strength, pressing his skin against your clit and wet folds. 

“Answer me, pretty girl.”

“I wan- Sugu… I want your cock, please.” 

He smirked again, pressing his leg on you once more, just to feel your wet, hot skin against his. He was pleased to see how he could easily overstimulate you, and the feeling only increased when you felt yourself closer and closer to another painful, but good orgasm. 

“Just because you asked nicely.”

He moved fast, not wanting you to lose the grip you had on that pleasure. Helping you with his hands on your waist, Suguru shifted your weight from one leg to his lips, his cock, already leaking pre-cum, filled you entirely in one move. 

Your mouth was open in a slight shock and a wave of pleasure. The same that left Suguru with his eyes closed, and his head leaned back against his chair. None of you would ever get used to that feeling. 

“Fucking heaven, girl. That’s how good your pussy feels after cumming so much f’me,” He said every word with that same fierce tone of his, the one that always made you throb, insane for the way he had a hold on you, how he controlled your body without even trying. “It’s all nice and ready for me to feel ya, right?”

“Right.” You agreed, not waiting a second. And, when you moved your hip against him, he snickered.

“Not now, sweet thing. You wanted me inside, I’m inside,” He said, right hand moving up to touch the single tear that fell down your cheek, his cock twitching inside your wet gummy walls, barely unable to control himself after that. “Now you’re on top, I’m gonna fuck you on top. Crying or not, you know how I like it.”

“Suguru-”

“Take it.”

──────〃✰ RYOMEN SUKUNA

“I had enough of your behavior today, my little viper.”

Sukuna’s voice was deep, causing shivers to run down your spine while he pulled his throbbing cock out of you. He was still leaning on top of you, his chest pressed against your back and his left hand in a tight grip on your hair, keeping your body still for him. 

“Maybe I gave you too much freedom,” He started, whispering into your ear while he pressed his tip on your pussy, teasing you, testing the limits of your neediness. When you tried to move your hips against his, Sukuna smiled. A wide, devilish grin, followed by a low groan when he pushed his cock back inside you, spreading your tight, wet walls around his fat size. “And you started acting like an insatiable little whore.”

“Nmh- Kuna! Sorry! I’m sorry!” Your voice was showing signs of your weariness. Your hands desperately looking for something to hold onto when he moved back to fuck you on fours, cock filling you up and hitting your right spots over, and over, and over again. 

“Now you’re sorry, my suffering?” He asked when his large left hand found its way in between your hair, pulling the strands from the root, arching your back forcefully. “Now it’s too late.”

Your mistake? Tried to rush him while he had Uraume trimming his hair. He loved and hated when you disturbed his rare moments of peace and self-care, always meaning you were going to end up shaking and fucked dumb in his bed. And he had no problem in making you apologize for not being able to control your own hormones. 

In such an almost sweet way, manhandling you to any and every position he wanted, just to see how many times he could make you cum. And how many did he have now? You couldn’t remember anymore. Not when your eyes rolled back each time his hips slapped against yours and his tip kissed your cervix over, and over, and over, and over... His hands keep you in your place, holding your waist and hair. 

And looking at how you were trying to hold on the sheets, increasing his rough movements until your hands were falling by your sides, turning you into a moaning wet mess when you were so close to yet another orgasm. “You’re not trying to run away, are you?”

“F-Fuck! N-no, Ryo! M’not! I swe-ear…”

“Liar.” He groaned when suddenly pushed back, making your cunt clench around nothing, missing him there. “You know I don’t like when you run.”

Sukuna held you, your body light as a feather, while he switched positions. In seconds, he had you laid in bed, your back hit the mattress as his body moved above yours, both hands pressing the back of your knees until he put you in an unholy mating press. His weight entirely over yours and pounding harshly against your poor cunt at once, your scream muffled against his mouth when he kissed you. 

“That’s right, you’ll stay fucking quiet and take it,” Ryomen said, both hands pressing you more and more open for him, your sweet scent filling his nostrils, making his smirk grow. “That’s why you’re acting like a damn brat today? Got your hormones making you crazy?”

Of course, he knew, he had to know. The signs were there from the start, and made the man push himself harder and harder against your reddish puffy cunt, mixing your juices with his pre-cum. 

“Mhm- Fuck, fuck, Kuna, please!” You choked out, eyes glistening with tears of pleasure and slight overstimulation. The sight triggered that same deep need in him, a low growl leaving his mouth with his deep grunts when he started pouncing harder. Deeper. So good. Forcing his way into your cunt when you opened your legs even more for him, drunk in the pleasure of being folded by the king. 

And the tears came, falling down your cheeks as he continued, unable to stop his movements against you. The sight of your tear-stained face only taking away the last grip of his sanity. His right hand moving to feel your neck and pressing the sides, controlling your breath lightly and your blood pressure there, the feeling of your vision getting even more blurred, only seeing the brutish smile on his face and his red eyes rolling back as you both came together. “Good- Fucking- pussy, my queen,” Sukuna breathed out, looking down to see the beads of cum escaping when his movements loosened slightly. “All filled up, that must ease that behavior of yours and give me a strong heir, a boy, hm?!”

──────〃✰ KAMO CHOSO

Choso wasn’t a man to have haircuts often. He always loved the length of his dark strands, and, most importantly, you loved it. So when he said he would go out with his brother, you didn’t expect to see how gorgeous he was when he came back home. He had trimmed only one inch or two, but they styled his hair differently than he usually did. 

His hair length showed more while the strands fell on his shoulders, his appearance strangely clean, but so pretty and so hot too. It made you melt in a way you weren’t expecting, those hormones of yours messing with your inner neediness and your usual desire for the man only growing. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you when you were like that, both hands keeping your knees apart while your pussy was milking his cock, the girth twitching inside you, his hips moving back and forth painfully slow and his eyes glued to the luscious vision with each movement he made against you. 

“Always feel so good like this.” His voice is low, not hiding the necessity within. Choso was edging himself in you, always slowing down his movements when he was about to cum. It was a good fucking torture you taught him. 

“You promised you’d cum with me this time, Cho,” your voice was low, almost in a coaxing tone, or trying. 

“I know, I know,” He whispers back, leaning his body against yours as he continues with that same pace. His body is shivering above yours, his panting and grunts louder. He couldn’t control himself anymore, but he tried, taking both of you to that sweet overstimulation. “I jus’ need more of you, my love. Just… More.”

The last word comes with a deep thrust, making your body jolt and that same ragged moan leaves his mouth. And it doesn’t take long for Choso to regain his pace again, faster, harder, pounding down on you like a mad man. Both arms caging you in bed while his hips moved harshly. 

“Fuck, fuck, Choso!”

“I know, I’m gonna cum too, my love.” He didn’t need to say much, the pleasure took control of both of you, your mouth opening while your moans were running out freely. Sweet words and his name repeating over and over each time thighs slammed against yours. “I’m gonna cum this time, I promise- With you-”

He closed his eyes when a shudder burned up on his skin to his neck, both hands reaching for your face, cupping your cheeks and bringing you close, kissing your lips so furiously, keeping you pinned down for him. 

Choso was desperate, moaning sweet little promises with his weak and drained voice while his veiny, leaking cock throbbed inside you. Your moans turning one when you came for him, again, your poor cunt tightening the grip, sucking him deeper, making room for the ropes of white cum that came right after. 

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, take it! Take it all! ‘S all yours, my love.” 

You were seeing stars behind your eyes before you looked at the raven haired man above you. Even after cumming and having your legs shaking around him after bringing you to your eight orgasm, Choso was still keeping unsteady movements of his hips against you. 

“C-Cho…” You breathed out, hands touching his shoulders marked by your nails. “‘S too much already.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. So sorry,” he whispered, kissing your lips and the bridge of your nose softly before he pulled out. 

He immediately straightened his posture, eyes darting back to your open folds and the cum leaking out. Breathless, Choso moved his hands, middle and ring finger pushing his seed back inside you. His smile only widening when he moved his hand out to see the cum coming back again. 

“Already so full, my love?” Her eyes found yours, noticing that same reddish blush across your cheeks. He smiled, hand moving to finger you again, using his cum to lubricate your clit. “Cum again, and I’ll give you more.”

──────〃✰ HIGURUMA HIROMI

“Fuck, my love. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”

Hiromi couldn’t stop. Not after you took him by surprise, and he did the same to you. It matched so perfectly that he had to fuck you senseless to enjoy the night properly. 

You were waiting for him to come home while dressed in your favorite nightgown, the lacy fabric hugging your body so perfectly, it made his mouth water as soon as he stepped inside your shared penthouse. His surprise for you? A haircut. With no warning. He just decided he needed it and got it after work. 

Right in the middle of your fertile period. That damn ovulation that got your pussy soaked the second you laid your eyes on him, and, since then, the man was shoving his aching cock into your wet and already aching pussy. Rubbing his tip against your clit to make you cum whenever you mewled, it was “too much, Hiro!”. It was never too much for him. 

“Knew you were ovulating, I fuckin’ knew it!” He moaned, breathless, between each thrust of his hips against yours. Having you on all fours like he so much loved and seeing your cunt swallowing his girth always made him behave like that.

Releasing his frustrations and exhaustion in you. 

“You always know, Hiro! ‘S so unfair!” You stirred, trying to look at him over your shoulders, until you felt his right hand smacking your ass, the left grabbing your hair from the root, your body curved in front of him. 

“Gotta give my wife what she wants, don't’ ya think, doll face?” His husky voice filled your ears when he curved his body on top of yours, the right hand circling your body to find your clit again. 

“Hiromi, please!”

“Don’t behave now, doll. You’re gonna cum with me when I fill you, alright?”

Your nods became desperate when he started moving his middle and ring finger in circles and pressuring your clit, the feeling of your nerves being stimulated again, along with the deep thrusts hitting all those sweet spots inside, were making your eyes roll. 

Hiromi kept his pace, so eager and so rough, taking all of his goddamn stress into you, cock buried deep in your heat, your juices making way for him to slide in and out with a ravishing sound echoing around you two. 

“H-Higu- Fuck, love! ‘M gonna cum!” 

“All for me, love. Come on, for me,” He whispers into your ear. 

His movements never slow down, his hips slamming against yours, balls deep edging your clit along with his fingers. It was so damn much, and yet you couldn’t stop, giving him another orgasm, hitting you like a furious tidal wave when the squirt got him all wet, the sounds echoing sloppier when he moaned louder. 

“Fucking good girl, doll. Such a dirty lil’ princess for me,” Hiromi purred, his forehead leaned on your shoulder while he seemed to try and compose himself. Even with how hard his length was pulsing against your walls. “Remember I love you, ‘kay?”

His murmurs made you open your eyes, trying to understand him. “W-What? Hiro-”

Your voice got stuck in your throat when he stood straight, both hands pulling your wrists to your back and keeping you like that. His pounding got harder, harsher. Hiromi had his eyes closed while he let go of his senses and fucked you. With all the letters, fucked. Hips moving mercilessly against you, your throat sore with your moans, but unable to keep silent whenever he was feral like that, unable to stop.

“I’m gonna fill you, love. Can I? Please, please, I need- I have to!” His words barely made any sense, as if you could even get your own senses to answer him when he had you like that. “Feels so right, ‘m gonna fill you with all of it, love. And you’re gonna gimme a baby, right? A girl, our girl, I’m gonna love you both so much, darling, fuck!”

Hiromi’s body shivered while he painted your tight walls with his seed, cumming deep with the tip kissing your cervix, twitching with his white shots filling you to the brim. The lawyer leaned closer again, kissing your back and shoulders, feeling you stir underneath his body. “Don’t waste it. Make sure it’ll catch this time.”

──────〃✰ KONG SHIU

Shiu felt his body jolting with pleasure, your tongue circling his tip, making it difficult for him not to moan loud, and louder, with each stroke. Seeing you kneeling in front of him with his cock in your mouth always made the man quiver, a glimpse of that deep lust in his eyes. 

“That’s my girl, so dirty for your man, hm?!” He smirked, right hand caressing your cheek before going up to your hair, gripping tight around his fist to control your pace. “Making me lose control here, darling.”

“Are you? So fast?” You teased, rolling your tongue around his length again, sliding it into your mouth and intensifying your movements, sucking and controlling your breath and gag reflex. Shiu’s cock touched the back of your throat, and your moans against his mouth made him moan loud again, looking down and slapping your cheeks softly to make you open your eyes. 

“Fuck, darling. Keep going like this, and I’m gonna cum fast,” his voice was low, pulling his hips back to give you a moment to breathe. Your hands kept steady movements, never stopping praising him.

“Before me?” Your voice had that same teasing tone again, making him chuckle. 

“You know I won’t stop soon, doesn’t matter if you make me cum now,” he replied, caressing your hair, digging his fingers in until he had your strands in a ponytail on his hand. “I’m gonna fill your mouth, and once I make you cum enough, I’m gonna fill your insatiable pussy, alright?”

“Enough?” He narrows his eyes when you ask, touching your chin, silently asking you to open your mouth. 

“Yes, enough. Two, three, four times… I’ll decide.” 

With that, he has your tongue out and slides into your mouth again, letting you suck his aching dick like you so much wanted in that hungry, needy, hormonal mess you were. Shiu didn’t dare to fuck your throat his time, only sitting still while you kept your movements. 

Often licking down to his full, heavy balls while stroking his wet girth, making the man moan and smile, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, not wanting to lose a single sight of you worshiping him with such desire. 

“My girl- Fuck!” His hands move back to your head when you start moving faster, so eagerly, praising him. Shiu’s grip on your hair tightens, but not to stop you, only drowning more into that pleasure that makes him stutter and grunt for you. “Ngh, fuuuuck! ‘M gonna cum, darling. Fuck, fucking good mouth for me!” 

Shiu stops, relaxing on the couch and pulsing in your mouth, filling every space with thick ropes of his hot cum, the taste strangely sweet, making you swallow every drop and lick him entirely to finish. “Every month this side of you gets me insane, little love.”

“You know how much I need you, Shiu.” Your voice is hoarse from the slight burning feeling in the back of your throat. 

“Yeah? Gotta prove that to me, sweet thing.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss your lips with a deep need to feel you closer. His hands reached for your waist, pulling you up to his lap, letting you adjust your legs on either side of his body. Hands already reaching for the middle of your thighs, feeling your slick folds with his fingers. “Sucking my cock gets you so wet?”

“Mhm… Pleasing you makes me feel good.” Your lips form a small smirk while your hands reach for his shoulders. He keeps stroking himself, looking down to see your juices getting him even more wet before he can slide in, both moaning against each other’s mouth. 

“Oh, I can feel it, sweet girl,” He smiled, hands moving up to pull you closer. His hips moving with yours, opening you around his length, both twitching deliciously. “Please me a little more, will ya? Ride your man. I’ll fuck you good once you cum again.”

──────〃✰ KUSAKABE ATSUYA

Bruises. 

Your body was covered in them at this point. 

Love bites, hickeys, and the perfect shape of his hands marking your ass. Kusakabe loved to see every little mark he put on you. It satisfied him deeply to see how eager you got every time his lips touched your skin. How wet you were always after. And he loved going down, kissing and biting your thighs and the sensitive skin until he had his mouth on your wet slit.

His tongue was moving in circles and eight, up and down around your sweet little and sensitive spot, making you squirm and moan just for him. His eyes were close, his hands moving on your nipples so softly, teasing the skin and pinching them just to feel you jolt and groan. 

“Mgh- Fuck, Suya!” Your voice was low, hands tied with his belt above your head, keeping you in place. A low growl escaped when you tried to move aside, his fingers twitching your nipples again, making your needy moan sound louder. “Atsuya! Fuck, I’m- I’m gonna cum!”

Your legs were shaking, moving aside to spread more for him while he reached for your high, gripping your nipples with the same greed feeling consuming him, knowing that those heavenly sounds of yours were about to get louder. Needier. 

And it did. 

You came on his tongue again, body shaking in your bed while he still moved his tongue, now down to your wet, velvety folds to fuck his tongue into you, tasting you so shamelessly and opening his eyes to watch you. Meeting the hunger in his eyes, you knew that the night was far from over. 

“Why were you trying to move?” He asked, moving closer to you, towering over your body and spreading your legs to accommodate him. 

“I wasn’t, Suya. I can’t control it.” 

“You can’t? My love… I’ve fucked you enough to know,” his voice lowers a few tones, his soft grunt increasing when he brushes his tip on your pussy, lubricating himself with your juices and feeling how you clench around nothing, out of expectancy to feel him inside. “I could leave you like this, right now.”

“No! No, please,” your pleading fills his ear, making his smirk grow wider, way too satisfied with how desperate you get with just the threat of it. It makes his erection almost hurt, wanting to be inside for once. 

“Ask for it like the good girl you are, then.”

“Atsuya…”

“Don’t get all shy on me now, princess.” His body moves slightly, left hand holding his weight beside your head, on the mattress. 

“‘M not! I swear.”

“Then you’re just being difficult, huh?”

His statement makes you stutter, unable to answer. And the feeling that comes after is almost blissful, when he finally fills you with his girth, opening your wet, tight folds at once. Kusakabe groans in your ear, his knees holding his weight when he moves up, hands now holding your waist and moving harshly, fast, painfully rough. And you loved it. 

“I’ll fuck this attitude out of you, princess. Like I always do.” It’s a promise, you can almost see it in his eyes, the way he fucks himself inside of you, over and over, making your body bounce for him, increasing the sloppy sounds around you two. 

“Aw, baby! ‘Can’t! I can’t, Suya.”

“Can’t? But you will, for me.” He nods while speaking, making you nod with him. “That’s right. Gotta fill this hungry cunt so you can learn to behave.”

I DO NOT authorize plagiarism of any kind.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ᥫ᭡

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.  

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.