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Based on this beautiful request from my sister wife @tomitsulikeslemons <3

Another Friday night had come and gone. It was sometime past one in the morning, the dance floor packed, vibrating with hip hop music, and colorful lights weaved through the sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. You and your friends had wriggled your way out of the crowd, off to have one last drink, though none of you needed it. That was evident in the way you sauntered through the stuffy air carelessly, a slant in your step, every thought, thing, person, scenario funnier than it really was, reality viewed through a different lens. By the way your friends talked and acted you knew they shared your state of mind, the trio of you fueled off one another. 

What you didn't share with them was your desire to leave this place. Dancing to the latest hits was fun for a while, but your heart craved something else. All night you'd longed for a change of scenery, a specific place in mind. Most of the bars would be closing soon. You'd shied away from bringing it up all night, but halfway through what was supposed to be your final drink, it became now-or-never.

"We should go to the jazz bar!" you announced, beaming excitedly to hide the embarrassed blush coating your cheeks. 

As expected, you were immediately met with resistance, both of your friends giving you eye rolls, exhausted groans and disapproving shakes of the head. 

"Seriously?!" One of them grumbled, unafraid to give it to you straight. "That place is sooo dead. Every time we go there it makes me want to fall asleep," she voiced dramatically. Your other friend nodded her agreement, taking a long, tired sip from her drink. 

"It's romantic and luxurious," you countered. "You just don't know how to appreciate good music." It was your turn to take a long sip now, glancing to the side and raising your eyebrows over your glass. 

"HEY!" She shouted while your other friend simultaneously accused, "oh, please, we all know you're not going for the music."

"Yes I am!" You whined defensively, though you understood immediately what she meant, especially by the shit-eating grin spreading on her face. 

"That's right," your other friend giggled, catching on, the two of them exchanging devious glances. "You only got into jazz because you want the owner's PICKLE!" She chanted the last bit, cupping her hands around her mouth for the whole club to hear, or at least those nearby. 

"It’s not true!" You hissed. "Maybe I just like going somewhere where random men aren't constantly trying to get behind me like dogs!" You took another drink from your glass, nervously chugging.

"Yeah, yeah, none of them can compare to your little jazz boyfriend, we know," your friend snorted. The other joined in her laughter, the two of them like goofy, taunting hyenas. 

"I'm - I can't - that's not even remotely true," you stammered, repeating yourself, crossing your arms over your chest, looking all too interested at the contents in your glass. 

"She's blushing!" They pointed at and prodded your cheeks. 

"My cheeks always get red when I drink!" You snapped back, swatting their hands away. 

"Okay, okay," your friend giggled, waving her hand dismissively to get you to calm down. "We'll go with you."

"Really?" 

"If," she paused for effect, "you admit you want to get the mario coins knocked out of you by the owner."

"You're insane,” you scoffed and shook your head.

"No, you are,” your other friend jumped back in. “We're your best friends! You can tell us! We make great wing women." She grinned and nudged your other friend.

"You do not-"

You were interrupted by her beginning to mock you, words you would never say, altering her voice to sound high-pitched and damsel-in-distress-y, “you’re the only one who truly understands music, Daddy!”

“Let’s listen to some of your jazz while we fuck!” Your other friend naturally went along. 

They carried on, one of them moaning and tossing her hair while the other sang a classic jazz song in a deep, cartoony voice. A group of men nearby started to look over, curious at the spectacle. It was then that you clapped your hands over each of their mouths, silencing their torment.

One of them licked your hand, causing you to recoil. "Sorry,” she giggled. “We're done."

"Well, I'm not interested in going anymore,” you pouted. 

"Don't be so stubborn,” your friend said, taking a quick sip of her drink and stirring the ice around. “Let me finish my drink. Then we can go see your man," she promised.

Your pout twitched, etching into a smile while your other friend winked at you and began to chug her glass. 

Not much later, the three of you took to the streets, staggering along to the jazz bar you adored so much. With each step you found yourself turning inward, getting in your head about your appearance and your general vibe. You hoped your makeup and hair didn’t look too run-down from the night’s activities, or that it wasn’t too obvious in your heavily-lidded eyes that you were far from sober. You even found yourself smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your long, elegant dress, a piece you had picked out with the intention of ending up here later tonight. The closer you got to your destination, the more you attempted to straighten out, to walk more gracefully and practice opening lines in your mind. Your anxious thoughts only ceased when your trio clicked up to the bouncer, arms interlocked, no need to show him your IDs. You were familiar faces at this establishment after all. 

But then, he wasn’t stepping aside, didn’t lift the velvet rope and gesture you in as he normally did with a “welcome back, ladies.” He stood firm with his hands clasped, forcing a practiced frown as he said instead, "sorry ladies. We're closing up in about fifteen minutes. Can't come in."

Your heart sank. Dramatic as it was, you felt your night had been wholly ruined by this piece of information, by this denied entry. Your friends watched your enthusiastic expression fall, and one of them broke from the group immediately, clacking forward with an aggressive, steely look in her eyes that you knew all too well. 

"So? Let us in for fifteen minutes," she demanded, hands on her hips and chest puffed out. 

The bouncer towered over her, unmoving. "We can't.” He shrugged carelessly. “The doors are shut."

His resolute words made you deflate even more, but further provoked your feisty friend. "Seriously?” She shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her heel against the concrete. “Where's the owner? I want him to tell us."

"No, no.” You tugged at her elbow, disconcerted by the prospect of bothering him. You pulled her back into line with you and your other friend. “It's fine. We'll go," you said decisively, not wanting to start conflict at his bar.

"Uh, no we won't.” Once she had a mission in mind, she didn’t back down. She raised a manicured pointer finger in the air. “I didn't walk all the way here to get turned away. We come here all the time, and many of those times we were here past two am! Is this how you treat valued customers?!"

The bouncer still didn’t seem to want to budge, looking bored with the three of you. He rolled his neck this way and that while your friend snapped at him, his mind likely only halfway here. It only added to your humiliation, had you angling your feet in the opposite direction, trying to nudge your friends away, but they weren’t conceding. 

"Yeah, c'mon dude, seriously,” your other friend joined in the fray. “Three young things like us?” She gestured between the three of you. “You need us in there."

"Maybe when we opened several hours ago,” he opposed, letting the slightest bit of irritation slip into his tone before regaining his composure. “I really am sorry, girls, but it's policy."

"Policy? Policy?!” That made your temperamental friend explode, her arms flailing about in the air between them. “What are you, the goddamn police?!"

"It's okay!” You pulled her back again, panicked. This had already escalated too far. “We can come another night! No big deal!” You offered a sheepish, crooked smile to the bouncer, chuckling nervously as you attempted to steer your trio away for the last time. “Sorry for the trouble."

"No!” Your friend frowned, stomping her foot childishly, not yet ready to accept defeat. “You were excited! We're not leaving!"

You sighed, exasperated and uncomfortable with so much confrontation at a place you loved so much. "I'm telling you it's-"

"Is there a problem here?" 

The four of you followed the familiar voice, like deers in headlights, peering up at the owner as he stood at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance in a wide stance, eyes narrowed down at the group of you. 

You froze at the sight of him, breath catching in your throat. 

Shinji.

"No, no boss,” the bouncer scrambled to explain, sounding much less indifferent than he had moments ago. The large man turned small in Shinji’s presence, not so tough now. “Just telling these ladies we'll be closing up soon."

His narrowed gaze slid smoothly from his employee over to the three of you. When his eyes met yours, they softened, his glare reserved for man and man only. "Oh, it's my girls."

You squeaked as your friend shoved you forward, nearly knocking you over the rope. You straightened, just like you had practiced, smiling tightly and waving bashfully up at him. 

"Hey, sweetheart,” Shinji chuckled languidly, slowly beginning his descent down the stairs towards you. “Ya coming in?"

"We're trying to,” your friend grumbled from behind, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bouncer, eager to pin blame on him. “Are you gonna fire this guy or what?" 

"Whatever you want darlin',” Shinji laughed, unhooking the rope and ignoring his bouncer’s dumbfounded expression. “Come on, then."

Your friends giggled excitedly at the VIP treatment, as if they weren’t complaining about having to come here thirty minutes ago, prancing forward and up the stairs. You lingered behind, murmuring another “sorry” to the bouncer before you moved to follow them. 

Shinji held out his arm for you to take. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t gonna get to see ya tonight.” He eyed your figure. “Looking so pretty too.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smiled coyly, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside, careful not to trip up the stairs. 

You were met with the usual scene, dim lighting, gold, reds, purples, the woodsy aroma of whiskey mixed with cigar smoke and expensive perfumes, two men gathered in hushed conversation at the bar, a new couple huddled together in the corner playing footsies, an old one twirling with each other on the floor to a romantic tune, glimpses of lovers and loners alike on the balcony, and your friends already spinning each other around, looking wild and beautiful and catching the eyes of most men in here, however young or old. 

Shinji was not one of them, too busy with his eyes on you. “Are ya thirsty, baby doll?”

Every little variation of pet name he gave you made your chest flutter, the sweet names and phrases like doses of sugar coming from him. It gave you a rush, and you couldn’t get enough. You were an addict, constantly coming back for more. “Can I just have a water?”

“You can have whatever you like,” he responded, detaching from your side to slide behind the bar, his bartender occupied with flirtatious women at the end. 

Shinji made quick work of filling your glass, throwing in a lemon and garnishing it with a small flower. You giggled your thanks when he handed it to you, making him grin adoringly as you sipped from the pretty glass, perched in the stool across from him.  

You were working up the courage to launch into conversation with him, racking your brain for how to start calmly when he made you feel so airy and excitable, when one of his regulars was slinking up to the bar, coming to catch up before saying his goodbyes for the night.

“Hey!” Shinji beamed towards him before throwing you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back for ya,” he assured before he was off, playing the gracious owner. 

You waited impatiently for him to return, not-so-subtly watching as he got trapped in one conversation after the next, getting to know some of the unfamiliar faces before they left for the night or revisiting with returning patrons. Envy burned in your chest, observing them stealing away your time with him when you had been waiting for this all night. 

As the clock neared and then passed two am, despite the fact that Shinji never formally kicked anyone out, most people filed out on their own, some stopping him to thank him or to chat about their night or their most recent heartbreak or how their job has been so shitty and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You supposed you couldn’t blame them - Shinji was easy to talk to, attentive, humorous and ran a damn good establishment, but you couldn’t help the mounting frustration any time another straggler prevented him from making his way back to you, stealing even more precious time as the night progressed into the wee small hours of the morning. You were getting bitter, silently commanding everyone in the room to please, just leave.

Your friends sashayed their way over to you, one of them faking a yawn. “Looks like it’s closing time,” she observed, throwing you a suggestive look.

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

“I mean, yeah,” your other friend laughed. “What? You want us to stay and watch when he…” she trailed off, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Didn’t realize you were into that,” they joked.

“That’s not going to happen.” You blushed deeply. “And I’m wondering if I should leave with you.” You glanced longingly in Shinji’s direction, watching him speak with an old pair who were here every week. “He seems like he’s pretty busy. I haven’t really got to talk to him all night.” You looked at your glass of melted ice sadly.

“You have to stay!” Your friend urged you. “You came here for a reason. Don’t pussy out.”

“Do you want us to stay until everybody else is gone?” Your other friend offered.

It was tempting, but you weren’t going to make them sit here with you when they were ready to go. Besides, it seemed like there were only a couple of others left aside from the old couple, and all of Shinji’s staff had already cleaned up and gone. If you were staying, surely, it wouldn’t be much longer until you got him all to yourself. Your friend was right. Now was not the time to pussy out. You’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

“That’s okay.” You smiled, getting down from your stool to hug and kiss them goodbye. “Thank you guys for coming with me.”

“You know we always will. Go get some pickle.” They smacked your butt before departing, waving teasingly to Shinji as they sidled past the chattery old people. 

At the sight of their exit, Shinji looked your way, confirming that you were still there, waiting for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to the old couple, exchanging their last words before he helped them out and down the stairs, returning to say and wave goodbye as the other few remaining people wrapped it up and left. 

It was finally just the two of you, the moment you had been wishing for all night. An upbeat jazz song echoed around the vacant space as he made his way back to your side. He looked a little delirious, dark smudges under his wandering eyes, a few more of his buttons undone, revealing more of his chest. He was probably worn out from the long night. It made him look impossibly sexier.    

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

“Hi,” you said timidly, pushing down the feral urges rising to the surface. “Again. Those old people have a later bedtime than I do.”

Shinji grinned amusedly at your passive aggressive joke. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long.” He snuck in closer, whispering, “did ya miss me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, heating up under his intense gaze.

“I sure missed you,” he confessed, bringing a hand to ghost over your waist. His eyes dropped to follow the motion. “I like this dress,” he complimented. “Yer a real knockout. I was afraid someone else was going to come and snatch you up.”

“You’re being dramatic.” You reached for your hair to smooth down the messy strands.

“I’m not,” he disagreed seriously, his voice dropping an octave. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the surround sound of jazz, and the transition into a slower and more sensual instrumental. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have to wait for anyone. By the way, how much trouble did my bouncer give ya earlier?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honestly!” You laughed nervously, looking towards the entrance as you thought of his employee and the way he shrunk down when Shinji came outside. You were shrinking now in your own way, having an inkling that if you said the word, he’d truly get fired in a heartbeat, and you didn’t particularly want that on your conscience. “He was just doing his job.”

“His job is to let my girl in, no matter the day or time or whatever the hell else is going on,” Shinji said sternly. “He’s an idiot.”

“I made it in here. No hard feelings.” You tentatively put a hand on his chest, bringing yourself closer to him, some of your fingers curled against his shirt, and others on his bare skin. 

“Yer too forgiving.” He calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath your touch. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Well,” you avoided his eyes as you confessed, “I’m happy now…”

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

The music played distantly again, reminding you that you were alone with him, the only two around to hear it. Shinji’s hand fell from your waist, coming to rest atop where yours was pressed to his chest. 

“So then, shall we dance?” He asked, grinning mischievously. 

“What?” You nearly gasped, gazing at the empty floor. “I don’t dance - like that!” You panicked, imagining the intimacy of it - his hands on your waist, his body so close, moving in sync with yours to the slow music playing over the speakers. There would be no explaining away your feelings, just movement and lots of eye contact, all body language. You were all talk and no game, wobbling on your heels, sure that you were going to embarrass yourself, that you were going to put his favorite genre to shame, and then it would be all over. 

“Sure ya do,” he chuckled at your jittery state. “Yer just being shy.” He grabbed your hand, pulling it from his chest to entangle his fingers with yours, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“I really don’t know how to.” You hesitated. “I’ll make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. “Let me teach you.” 

Without another word, he was hurrying away, plunging the space into silence. He returned with an old record player, making a comment about the “real deal” as he set it up. He left again in search for a specific record, leaving you to shuffle in place and twiddle your thumbs, rubbing the back of your hand where his lips came and went. 

While you waited, your thoughts ran unchecked, thinking again about him pulling you along the floor to something romantic, your dress swishing about at your ankles, holding his hand long enough for your palm to sweat in his…your heart hammered in your chest, beating to the wrong rhythm. You took steadying breaths, remembering to slow down, to be smooth as jazz. 

Shinji looked your way excitedly, finally putting the record in place. He rushed back over to you, and so as not to waste a moment of the song, he grabbed onto you immediately, a hand on your hip, and another taking your hand. There was no more time to worry, and only time for dance. 

The music began, like stars twinkling, the language of dreams, while strings crooned in the background. Eyes like saucers, you looked to Shinji for guidance on where to put your free hand. “Up here.” He nodded towards his shoulder. 

You delicately placed your hand where he instructed, tensing at the feel of him, at the tiniest movement of his muscles underneath the soft fabric of his dress shirt. You weren’t able to think about it for very long as your feet were pulled into movement, Shinji taking you with him to the melody. 

Of course, you found a way to complicate it, no matter how simple it was. All you had to do was move your feet where he tugged you, but you couldn’t manage even that, staggering in your heels, but he never let you falter too much, tightening his hand on your hip and his other in yours to keep you upright and in line. “Yer alright, yer okay,” he’d say. “I’ve got you.”

He never stopped, covering the expanse of the floor with his eyes on yours. You still couldn’t quite get out of your head, but it was getting easier as the song progressed. You let both Shinji and your intuition guide you, and as such, your clumsiness slowly faded away, replaced by a gracefulness you never knew you had. When you were starting to get the hang of the easy part, he was releasing your hip, keeping your hand in his and twirling you.

You laughed and squealed, feeling more at ease the more playful he was, all of the stress and the worry cascading out of you with the twirl. It was fun, the feeling of being whipped around by him, your dress and hair twirling too, so much so that it had you cheering, “again!” And of course he obliged you, spinning you around once more.  

Shinji must have been feeling as euphoric as you, opening his mouth to belt out a line of the song.

“You’d be hers if only she would call!”

The words, whether they were just lyrics to sing along to or something he really meant, stunted you. Your smile fell, your expression turning serious and fervent as his eyes bore into yours. He grinned at your stunned expression, encouraging you to listen to the lyrics more carefully as he swayed with you. 

It had you relaxing into the movement even more, the placement of your feet and your body’s responses becoming second nature as you honed in on the music. In this, you found a new appreciation for the instruments and their union, much like the way you united with Shinji now, the bliss when certain notes and sounds came together at once. 

Though the music was peaceful, the moment was intense. Your throat tightened with the way he looked at you, the way he moved you and spun you like you were a flower, the way he sang to you, “you’d be hers if only she would call.” Would he be mine? Does he want to be mine?

It had you recounting all of the times you came in here, how he always greeted you with his signature smirk when you came in and let you stay late, making cheeky remarks about whatever outfit you had on that night or paying enough attention to compliment your hair or makeup, telling creepy men to get lost when they approached you, knowing your drink order and making sure it was never empty, playing your favorite songs, walking you out and telling you that he’d see you next time…he always did. 

And tonight, all that transpired, the same protectiveness and pet names and compliments, but now, the dance. You’d always written off his behavior and his words as his personality, a natural flirt, or maybe just the fact that he needed business, and you were naive enough to fall into his trap over and over again. He was sweet and protective to all the women. After all, he’d told your friend “whatever you want darlin’” at her request that he fire the bouncer, and talked to various women, young and old, before they left tonight. 

You couldn’t deny that on your hard days, you thought about it a little too much, wondered what those conversations with other women consisted of, if maybe you were just his Friday girl and on Saturday he had another little doll staggering up to the velvet rope, batting her lashes and getting him to fulfill her every wish and command, just for the night. It was why you never took any of it too seriously before now, allowing yourself to get excited each night that you visited, but not to take it back home with you, too afraid to have your heart broken.

But being here with him tonight made everything feel real. You weren’t his Friday girl, you were his every day girl. Sure, he gave everybody sweet nicknames, but he complimented you, he searched for you, he stayed behind for you. It had been this way all along, you were just too stuck in your head, letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. If you had just called him, just given him the word, he’d be yours. 

So perceptive, it was as if Shinji knew you were overthinking it all now, worry passing over his features as he observed you. He twirled you again just to see you smile, but instead of spinning you around fully, he ended this one with his chest to your back and his arms wrapped around you, keeping you there for a moment before spinning you back out again, whisking you along and out of the room before you could see the rosiness in his cheeks.

He took you to the balcony, reconnecting with you there, the music still heard from inside as the chill night nipped at you playfully. The lyrics returned, and you strained to hear them as Shinji tucked you into his chest, rocking you more slowly now to keep you warm from the wind whipping your hair and dress around your frame. 

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers if only she would call.”

You looked up from Shinji’s chest, searching his face for the truth as the town below you started to settle into bed. 

“In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s the time you miss her most of all.”

Chills prickled your skin as the song twinkled out, the stars overhead now. When it stopped, the both of you stopped moving, but continued to hold one another, staring in silence with nothing but the distant sounds of the world around you and the whispers of an early spring night. 

Selfishly, you had to know. You needed to hear him say it, for your own peace of mind. “Do you,” you hesitated, but his soft, patient gaze brought you the rest of the way, “have feelings for me?”

“I have for a long time,” he answered you easily, seriously.

“How long?” You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“Not long after you started coming here,” again, with a quick, steadfast response. “You’ve always been my girl.”

You let your instincts take over, looking at his lips, leaning in the slightest bit, this was the call. 

And he moved in the rest of the way until your lips were pressed together, becoming yours. He didn’t have to miss you anymore - at this hour, when he was normally closing up, heading home to lie awake and think of you - because here you were, finally where he had longed for you to be, with him. 

The kiss was long, but sweet. Pure and wholesome, he kept your lips against his, and nothing more, pulling back to hug you tightly, pressing more tender kisses onto your cheek and forehead. “A long time,” he said to himself again, running his fingers through your hair as he rested his head against yours.

“I’m your girl,” you spoke to yourself too, smiling like an idiot and shivering against him, excited and a bit chilly. 

“Yer cold,” he commented, smoothing his palms down your back.

“A little.”

He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms now. “Want to go back inside?”

“No. I like it out here.” You snuggled back into his chest, leaning against him as you observed the lights below and above. “Just keep me warm.”

He started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his pants and pulling it off to wrap it around you.

“You took your shirt off?!” You giggled at him in disbelief.

“My baby’s cold.” He shrugged with a smile, pulling the fabric around your naked shoulders before cuddling you back into him. 

“But you’ll be cold now,” you worried, running your hands along his bare chest and arms, exposed to the night air.

“I’m fine.” He pulled you tighter against him, repeating your words, “just keep me warm.”

Content to be here with him like this, finally yours, you reflected on your humble beginnings, when your friends were reluctant to come here with you, and then when they were refusing not to be let in. You giggled to yourself as you thought of them and how they were going to interrogate you about the rest of your night - or morning, rather. You were going to have to tell them the truth. Okay, I admit, I do want his pickle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

The weather this evening, that late-summer-early-fall breeze, reminds you of that special night. It’s around the same time too, the wee small hours of the morning. You’re normally asleep at this hour, but missing him more than usual, you can’t catch a wink. 

“What’re ya still doing awake?” Shinji asks when he finally returns to your shared home, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Too exhausted for a shower, he joins you in bed. 

“Missing you.” You wrap yourself around him instantly, moaning softly at the heat rolling off of his body on this chilly night. “Have any dances tonight?”

“Hopefully one now - with you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

And so, you dance, no music necessary when you both create your own. The only sounds he loves more than his jazz are the noises that come from you when he makes you feel good. Shinji’s too tired to be anywhere but in bed with you, but not too tired to make love as you say goodbye to yet another Friday night. 

long-haired Shinji come back to meeeee

THE WIVES ARE GOING AT IT

This fic was inspired by @pinguwuuuu 's ABSOLUTELY SCRUMPTIOUS Shinji art. As evidenced by the below, it sent me into quite the h*rny spiral...

Check it out here and GO SHOW IT THE LOVE AND HYPE IT DESERVES !!!

Without further ado - TW: smut! alcohol! and Shinji himself!

You had thought a night out would be the perfect way to de-stress, but were quickly proven wrong. The alcohol didn't loosen you up in the way you intended, having the opposite effect and only winding you tighter, bringing the worst to the surface. No matter how many drinks you downed, you dwelled on the same worries, increasingly fussed over the same insecurities, and grew more and more miserable with each passing moment. If anything, the negative thoughts got louder, more pressing, drowning out any chance you had of enjoying the evening.

On top of your already awful state of mind, it seemed everything else had to go wrong as well. One of your friend's left early after getting into a fight with her boyfriend, and the other met someone who she wanted to leave with, and who were you to drag her down with you? She didn't ask twice when you told her to go on ahead, you'd be fine. You hadn't been fine the whole night, and now you waited impatiently for the bartender, who seemed keen on ignoring you, so that you could close your tab. At least this would be the end, you attempted to console yourself with that thought. No matter how long it took, this would be it, and you could try again tomorrow.

Along the wall, neon pink lights beckoned, shaped into the words, "Stay awhile." You felt mocked by them. No, I don't think I will. You were getting antsy, the snobby crowd, shitty music, and dim lighting making you dizzy and irritable. You pulled at the bottom of your tight dress, a fashion choice you now regretted in a room full of stuck-up assholes, shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting about nervously, knowing realistically that nobody was paying attention to you but simultaneously feeling as if all eyes in the room were on your lonely self. You were hoping not to have to raise your voice over all of the noise to get the bartender's attention, but this was getting ridiculous.

Just when you were working up the courage to assert yourself, there was a presence at your side, uttering such an incredibly corny pickup line, you almost thought you were hallucinating.

“Hey Doll, are ya tired? Cuz’ you’ve been runnin’ through my mind all day."

You snapped your neck towards the unsuspecting victim, ready to tell him to get lost.

Or not?

Your body betrayed your mind, coming alive at the sight of him, heart fluttering, throat going dry, and an odd churning of heat in your stomach. He looked like trouble, this stranger, unlike any other man in this bar, adorned in a satin, animal-print, button-down, belted dress pants, and a wolfish smirk. Even his sunshine blonde hair was styled into an odd cut with angled bangs that fell around his face with the way he tilted his head at you.

Pairing his eccentric looks with his equally strange and humorous greeting, you were curious about him, to say the least, curious enough to forget about looking for a bartender and to forget that you were supposed to be dejected, not captivated, ready to leave, not ready to stay. The "Stay Awhile" sign glowed brighter, pulsing, like it was laughing at you. You both loved and hated that whatever he had going on was working on you. He'd easily ensnared you, and you had to give him bonus points for being able to do so when you were in such a sour mood too.

Still, you weren't going to let him off that easy, not with how smug he looked.

"Doll?" You challenged, raising your eyebrows at him. "And how could I have been on your mind all day? We've just met."

He straightened at your stiff tone, lifting his elbow off of the bar, cheeks reddening ever so slightly under your cold gaze. "Would you prefer I call you something else?"

Cute. You almost decided to go easy on him, with how unnerved he looked.

"Buy me a drink." Now it was your turn to grin, suppressing laughter at the panic in his dark, glazed-over eyes. "Then you can call me whatever you want."

His lips broke out into another smirk, his confidence returning. "Careful," he crooned. "What can I get ya?"

You told him your usual, and he waved the bartender over smoothly. Had you not been distracted by something glinting inside of this mystery man's mouth, you would've glared at the guy behind the bar who had refused to acknowledge you this whole time but eagerly came running over to him. After he ordered himself and you another round, you interjected, asking to close your tab. Surely there was no need for you to keep it open now.

"Wish I'd've found ya earlier." He moved in closer, practically sliding towards you. "You wouldn't have had a tab to pay."

You smiled cheekily, too distracted by the glimpses of silver you were catching each time he opened his mouth. "Is that...?" You bit your lip, shyly pointing at his lips. "Is that a tongue piercing?"

"Sure is." He stuck his tongue out for your viewing pleasure, making you gasp and giggle excitedly. "Ya like it, doll? Can I call ya that now that your drink's being made, or do I have to wait till it's in front of you?"

"I do like it," you complimented flirtatiously. "I think the bartender hates me, so it may be awhile," you added, laughing sheepishly. "So I suppose it's fine to call me that now."

"Hates you?" He laughed with you. "What'd ya do for him to do that?"

"Existed. I don't know." You rolled your eyes. "I've been waiting here forever trying to close out my tab so I could go."

"He's an idiot." He downed the rest of his drink before continuing, pushing it forward along the bar. "Don't know how he, or any guy here for that matter, could ignore a pretty thing like you. Guess I should be glad I was the one to catch ya before you left, though." He smiled lazily, unabashedly letting his eyes drift up and down your figure.

You shivered under his sultry eyes, interrupted when the rude bartender returned, sliding your drinks across the bar and letting your receipt clatter down in front of you without so much as looking your way, already off to service the next stuck-up-looking schmuck. The man at your side scoffed, puffing his chest up, looking ready to say something, but you quickly signed your receipt and grabbed his attention again before he could start any sort of confrontation.

"So, are you going to ask me for my name or will I always just be doll?" You batted your lashes at him, enjoying the attention you were receiving after the shitty night you had.

You were sure that had any other man in this bar approached you the way he did, it wouldn't work out in their favor. His unconventional looks and ways were wildly attractive and made you feel special to have reeled him in without even meaning to. The girl you were now seemed entirely different from the one you were just before he came over. He hadn't even known that he had completely flipped your night upside down. You had been ready to bite someone's head off, and now, you were relaxed again, easing into your soft and feminine side when he naturally made you feel like you were the only woman in the room.

"What's your name, pretty?" He asked, clearly having a thing for all the classic pet names, though you certainly didn't mind.

"(Y/N). What's yours?"

"Shinji."

"Shinji." You nodded to yourself. "Do you use goofy pick up lines on all the girls, Shinji?" You teased.

"Only the cute ones in sexy little dresses," he teased back.

"I was actually just thinking this dress was a bit much," you confessed, subconsciously reaching to tug it down again.

"And you were trying to leave." Shinji narrowed his eyes at you. "You weren't having a good time tonight?"

"Not really." You shrugged, anxiously chugging your drink.

"How come?" He asked softly, frowning and seemingly genuinely concerned about you, this stranger.

"I've just been really stressed lately," you explained. He nodded in understanding, and you hesitated before opening up to him more, giving him a few more personal details about what's been on your mind. You avoided looking at him, taking more sips of your drink, a little embarrassed about drunkenly oversharing to him, but he was the first person to truly listen to you all night.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand.

"Where?"

"To de-stress." He smirked.

It was vague, possibly dangerous, and still, you slipped your hand into his, letting him drag you away from the bar and along the floor, heading to a back room where there were more bodies, more bass, more noise. As the space got more crowded, you released his hand, grabbing onto his bicep instead and tucking into his side. You felt him laugh against you and curl his arm slightly to squeeze you in closer.

"You're gonna make me dance?!" You yelled to him over the music, nervously observing the people near you, some with friends, others with lovers, flailing about chaotically or grinding against one another.

Your eyes widened as a girl nearby was bent over, face down, ass up, a man behind her looking all too proud. Shinji followed your gaze and chuckled.

He leaned in, inches away from your face. "Do you want to dance?"

His scent, expensive and comforting, flooded your senses. As appealing as moving your body against his sounded, it wasn't exactly what you had in mind, at least not here right now in front of everybody. You'd rather be tucked away somewhere, having to stay close to hear each other, so close where you could let that scent of his infiltrate your mind and make you forget all your worries.

"No," you said into his ear. "I just want to be close to you."

A look of surprise ghosted over his features before settling into relaxed confidence once more. "I've got ya."

He pulled you along the dance floor, through the sweaty bodies and drunk patrons, not stopping until he found a small booth tucked away in a dark corner, precisely the kind of spot for the pair of you. You shimmied your way in and he settled in next to you, thighs bumping together and feet tangling under the small table.

"So did it hurt?" You asked, resuming conversation up close so that you could hear one another, greedily inhaling his cologne.

"When I fell from heaven?" He snickered.

"We're done with the pickup lines," you scolded playfully. "I'm asking about your tongue piercing." You took a sip from your drink, eyeing him.

He shrugged. "Sure. It hurt initially, and then a little soreness after. Nothing I can't handle."

Like a pervert, you silently wondered if he had a complex, a sort of thing for pain. Maybe you'd find out. Maybe you wouldn't.

"Do you have any piercings?" He asked, nudging you, interrupting your unseemly thoughts. The tiniest bit of contact from him only had more unseemly thoughts flooding in to replace the others.

"Just my ears." You pulled your hair away from your neck to show him the couple of jewels poked through your lobes. "When I was in college, I actually went with a few of my friends to get my nipples pierced," you giggled to yourself. "My friend went first and freaked out so bad, it freaked me out. There was no way I was gonna do it after that."

"So ya bailed on her?!" He laughed at you.

"I wasn't the only one doing it with her!" You defended. "There was a third of us, and she actually went through with it and took it like a champ. It's better I didn't get them pierced. I don't think I'm that kind of girl." You blushed hard, thankful for the minimal lighting.

"And what kind are you?" Shinji looked you up and down, as if already making his own assessment.

"The kind who plays it safe," you admitted, albeit with a little bit of shame. "I'm very good at chickening out."

"You're a good girl," he said it in a way to compliment you, erasing your shame. "I like good girls."

"Wouldn't you get bored with someone like me?" You gulped your drink, a bit of your insecurity still leaking through.

"I don't get bored, no," he said seriously and finitely, taking a generous sip from his own glass. "Besides," he leaned in closer, "good girls are more fun in that way. They usually have a lot to hide, and it's quite the opposite of boring getting to find all that stuff out."

You smiled coyly, appreciating the way he was reading you, slithering in and making bold assumptions like that, bold assumptions that made you feel desirable. You needed him to know that the desire was mutual.

"You smell good," you finally told him, looking down at his lips and back up at his sharp, perceptive eyes, if you were being bold with each other now.

"So do you." He tilted his head, letting his nose just barely brush against your ear, his breath hitting your neck as he inhaled and exhaled. "Like a picnic."

"A picnic?" You laughed.

"In a field of flowers with lots of sweets," he explained, lightly brushing his lips against your neck. "Cakes, cookies, peaches, cherries...just wanna take a bite."

The wind was knocked out of you.

"Should we go?" You practically panted. "I - I mean after we finish our drinks?"

"We'll have to pay the jackass at the other bar one last visit so I can close out my tab," he sighed, "but yeah," and then smiled seductively. "Let's get out of here."

Prancing out of the bar with your hand wrapped around his bicep again felt like an act of rebellion, a resistance against the previous grievances of the night, and a defiance against your usual proper and modest ways. Maybe the alcohol was finally working in your favor, or maybe it was just that Shinji had a way of bringing out your carefree, playful, and humorous nature, your very best. You felt happiest when you were laughing, and now, as he whispered silly remarks about random passerby's in your ear and tripped over nothing and kept saying and doing stupid things just to make you grin, your face hurt from smiling so much. You didn't care where you were going, as long as it was with him, and the night that you were so desperate to leave behind had turned into one that you never wanted to end.

As expected, you ended up at his place. Like him, the inside was both suave and eccentric. He kicked off his shoes, flicked on dim lights and moved through the kitchen, going to get himself another drink as he asked your distracted self if you were hungry or thirsty, ever the gracious host.

"Water's fine," you mumbled haphazardly, discarding your heels at the door and taking in your surroundings.

He had an artfully messy collection of vinyl records, a desk with both organized and scattered papers and files, bookshelves full of fiction, history, and magazines. The furniture was dark and refined, like it was straight from an old speakeasy where they played nothing but smooth jazz and made strong, pretty cocktails. The space was a comforting combination of carefully arranged pieces and evidence that it was truly lived in. It was homey, and it was so him, spontaneous yet calculated, different yet beautiful.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting guests tonight, much less a pretty lady such as yourself," he commented self-consciously as he handed you a glass of water. "I haven't cleaned."

"No," you shook your head at him, "it's beautiful. I'm sorry for snooping around, I just really like it." You beamed.

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Mhmm," you hummed contentedly, wondering what his bedroom looked like.

He must've been a mind reader, draping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in that direction. "Well in that case, let me show you more of it."

Your mouth parted. Dark silk sheets and a large mirror on the wall, right in front of the bed, had you clenching your thighs together. His scent was everywhere in the room, like an aphrodisiac, hypnotizing you. He left your side to set his glass on the nightstand before leaping into his bed, posing on his side with his head propped up on his hand. "So, what do ya think, doll?"

You guffawed at him and clapped your hand over your mouth. "I think you're a real piece of work." You shook your head at him, suppressing a grin. "Your bed's nicer than mine is."

He was wearing a crooked, devilish smile, knowing that he was a piece of work, and you still wanted to fuck him. "Well? You coming in here with me or not?" He patted the mattress.

You bit your lip to contain your excitement, taking your time to carefully place your glass of water on the nightstand and toss your purse into a chair in the corner, just to tease him. You crawled onto the soft sheets, mirroring him and propping yourself up on your side. His eyes followed the curve of your figure, all the way down and back up, landing on your cleavage.

"Perv," you taunted.

"You love it," he practically growled.

"And what if I do?" You purred back.

"Then that makes you one too." He winked.

You fell into silence with him, eye-fucking each other.

And then the bed shifted as he moved toward you, coming to place his hands on either side of you, caging you in beneath him before dipping his head, taking your lips into his.

Shinji tasted like liquor and risky choices. You eagerly opened your mouth, taking that risk, letting him violate your mouth with that tongue of his that you were so enthralled with, curiously searching for his piercing to see what it would feel like. His knowing laugh vibrated through you, making you whine with embarrassment. He pulled away to kiss along your jaw and neck, surprising you with a lick to your throat, the jewel scraping against your tender skin and making you gasp. While he kissed and licked and sucked lower and lower, devouring you, his hand drifted up your thigh, dangerously close to where the bottom of your dress crinkled, just over your panties.

You squirmed and fussed. He was doing this purposely, dragging his piercing in between your breasts, massaging circles into your thighs but refusing to go any higher. You were not-so-subtly rubbing them together, both trying to hint to him that you needed to be touched and to create some sort of friction in the meantime. He continued to taunt you, chuckling into your chest before pulling his hand away completely, sitting up to pridefully take in your defeated state beneath him.

"You look so cute right now," he said, squishing your cheeks in his large hand. "You should see yourself."

You could hardly think of what you must've looked like right now, too infatuated with him towering over you, his pants tightening around his cock. With your face cupped in his hand, eyes glassy with carnal desire, he was giggling quietly to himself as you stared. You hadn't properly been touched yet, and you were already melting into his silky sheets.

"Come here." He released your face and beckoned with his finger.

Confused, you slowly sat up, watching him spin around to sit at the edge of the bed and nod towards his lap. You furrowed your brows before catching sight of that damned full-length mirror. You had almost forgotten about it, and how could you?! Crawling over to him, he helped you get seated into his lap, one arm wrapped around your upper abdomen, and the other above your hip, a hand resting on your stomach and another just below your boob. With your dress bunched up and almost exposing yourself, your bum was seated comfortably atop the bulge in his tight dress pants. The hand beneath your breast reached up to grab your cheeks again, directing your gaze forward where your wide-eyed reflection looked back at you. You throbbed at the sight, his manspread and the places his protective hands were positioned, your skimpy dress and cleavage littered with love bites.

"See?" He nipped at your ear. "So cute."

You sighed softly as heat simultaneously flooded into your nether regions and your plush cheeks, squished under his delicate fingers. Being forced to watch yourself get played with, it was equal parts sexy and humiliating. You were burning up in his hold, painfully aware of his erection pressing so near to your dampening panties. You dared to spread your legs a little wider, making yourself moan as you moved against him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He feigned concern.

"Please," you begged him pathetically. "How much longer are you going to tease me?"

"If ya want something from me, all ya gotta do is ask," he baited you.

You huffed. "Touch me! Please!"

"I am touching you," he murmured into your neck, squeezing your cheeks and pressing his hand into your stomach for emphasis.

"No!" You pouted, clawing at his arm wrapped around you. You grabbed his hand and put it high on your thigh. "Pleeeease," you slurred.

"You have to say it." He grinned.

You sobbed, embarrassed. "Fine! Touch my pussy!" You winced at your own words.

"Atta girl," he chuckled, amused by your discomfort. He reached for your panties under your dress. Pressing a kiss to your glowing cheeks. "Don't be so afraid to tell me what ya want. I want to hear that pretty little mouth of yours say nasty things."

You lifted your hips to help him as he dragged the fabric over your hips and down your thighs. You shook them off of your legs, watching in the mirror as they fell to the floor.

"Spread your legs," Shinji demanded.

Whiny sounds of struggle escaped your mouth as you opened them over his lap, gasping at the sight of yourself in the mirror, and at the way he was watching too. Now that he'd had you flustered enough, he didn't waste any more time, wrapping an arm back around your waist to hold you up while he reached in between your legs with the other, running a finger through your weeping slit. You squeaked at the contact, reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck for support.

"Fuck," Shinji cursed under his breath as he pushed a finger inside of your walls. "You're so wet." He groaned as he started to slowly push it in and out of you, watching your lips part and chest heave with shaky breaths. "This is why I like good girls," he reminded you. "Acting so sweet and obedient while your pussy was drooling over me this whole time, huh?"

His filthy words made you cry out. "Oh, God, yes!" You confessed. "It was so wet. I needed you so bad."

"Shit, keep talking like that, sweetheart," he panted, positioning his hand to better curl his finger in and out of you while his thumb massaged your clit.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands as you made a mess on his slacks, rotating your hips into his palm. He hissed as your ass grinded down onto his crotch, involuntarily bucking up into you as he gripped your torso with fervor, trying to hold you into place.

"You're gonna make me cum in my pants, baby," he whimpered. "Squirming against me like that."

"Are these good pants?" You asked dazedly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Does it matter?" He laughed viciously. "You don't need to worry about that, just keep fucking yourself on my fingers, sweetheart."

You moaned and mewled sweetly while you obeyed him, eyes fluttering open and closed as you observed your shuddering body in the mirror. Shinji continued looking too, going back and forth between watching your flushed face and his soaked fingers moving in and out of you, your reflections making intense, intimate eye contact a few times. Each time you met his eyes, you thought you may explode right then and there. You were dripping so much that there were squelching noises coming from between your thighs, growing louder than your shared pants and moans. The way he moved his fingers and the pace he adopted had you thinking he was doing it on purpose, trying to embarrass you again with how sloppy your pussy sounded while you locked eyes with him.

"You look so pretty," he whispered as your eyes met again. "All blushy and vulnerable and messy in my lap."

"I feel so pretty with you. You're so hot," you wailed, hardly able to finish your sentence, but you knew it'd drive him crazy, hearing you spew filth. "Wanna see how pretty I look when I'm taking your dick?"

"Oh, fuck," Shinji groaned, the pace of his fingers on you and in you faltering. "Alright." He pulled his fingers from you, making you pout and protest at the sudden loss of contact, though it was your words that brought this upon yourself. "I'm about to fucking burst. Will you be a doll and lay back so I can get us out of these clothes?"

You didn't want to move, but listened anyway, clambering off of him and onto the sheets beside him. You watched him with longing and impatience, an ache growing between your legs where he was working you up only to abandon you. He unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers before undoing his belt, tearing it loudly through the loops of his pants. He hurried out of them, ignoring the damp patch of your juices at the groin to focus on getting out of his socks and boxers as well.

While you witnessed him undressing, his long, pretty cock springing free, your hand had mindlessly wandered back down to your heat, finding your clit to give yourself some sort of satisfaction while he made you wait. The minute he caught you, he was wrenching your hand away and ripping your dress off of you so roughly you were getting whiplash, not that you minded.

"So fucking beautiful," he muttered, allowing himself a moment to admire your nude form before manhandling you into position in front of the mirror again, on all fours where you could watch him take you from behind.

Anticipation made your legs twitch as he nudged them apart slightly, opening you up a little further to take him. "Ready, cutie?" He ran a hand down your spine, grabbing your hips.

"Yes," you moaned, before looking back at him and cheekily wiggling your hips. "Please fuck me."

"Not such a good girl now." He slapped your ass, looking pleased.

Already painfully hard and leaking, Shinji grabbed himself and entered you, starting slowly but not giving it much time before he began thrusting into you at an animalistic pace, cursing and grunting and groaning. You thought you'd be fine to take him with how much he had already prepped you, but pain tore through you as he snapped his hips against yours. Each time he speared into you at this angle, you felt as though you were being ripped apart, a swell of pressure too intense to be pleasurable repeatedly plunging into your core. You bit your tongue and squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to take the pain in hopes that it would soon turn to pleasure, but he was too big to be going this fast already.

Unable to stand it any longer, you released a yelp of pain, gripping the sheets in your fists and looking away from the mirror. "Wait! Hurts! It hurts!" You cried.

"Shit." Shinji pulled out immediately, lifting you into his arms and holding you tightly in a sort of protective bear hug. "I hurt you, baby? Tell me what I did, was I too rough?"

In his embrace, your pain faded away, only to be replaced with guilt. You knew you hadn't done anything wrong, but that insufferable, tiny voice in your head was yelling at you for ruining the mood.

"I'm sorry," you panted, looking away from his concerned gaze shamefully. "It's not your fault. It just hurts from the back sometimes."

"No, it is my fault," he said sternly, petting your hair. Speaking more gently now, "I got carried away and was way too rough with you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you promised him, able to face him now. "Maybe we can try from this angle?" You suggested, still wanting him to pound you, especially after seeing how gentle he could be with you. "And a little slower, at least to start?"

"You sure?" His brown eyes were full of worry. "You don't need me to work you open a little more?"

"No, I still want your cock. Now," you said eagerly, gripping his arms.

"Alright." He smiled sweetly, kissing your temple with care. "Slower."

He wrapped an arm around you, using his free hand to reposition himself at your entrance for the second time. Your thighs quivered once more as you felt the tip prod your entrance, rubbing through your folds before he gently pushed back into you, filling you halfway before dragging out. He was much more cautious now, afraid to break you, and it was blissful and torture at the same time. You needed more.

"You can go deeper," you encouraged him, knowing that he was trying to be soft with you.

"Tell me if I hurt you again," he commanded before filling you up further. "You promise you will?"

"I promise," you assured.

With your word, he sunk deeper into your cunt, and at this new angle, you found it easier to take him, leaning your head back against his shoulder and whimpering into the air. You remembered the mirror and opened your eyes, watching his length glide in and out of you and your ass and thighs rippled with each gentle thrust. He whined into the crook of your neck, starting to increase his pace little by little, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort all the while. You kept nodding to him and letting him know to keep going, more, more, more, faster, harder. You let your sobs of pleasure grow louder and more shrill, struggling to hold yourself upwards as he fucked into you.

"Shinji," you whined for him.

"What's wrong?" He fretted.

"Can I," you were falling apart, finding it increasingly difficult to get the words out. "Can I suck on your fingers?"

He groaned in response, bringing his hand to your mouth and watching in the mirror as he shoved two fingers past your lips, letting you drool and swirl your tongue around them.

"Shit." He shut his eyes, tucking his nose into your neck, breathing in nothing but you. "I'm gonna cum."

You hummed with approval around his fingers. He pressed them against your tongue as he thrusted into you with more vigor now, chasing his high. Your eyes were fluttering closed over and over again, but you forced them open, wanting to watch him as he came, his hips stuttering against yours and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he moaned and groaned and took staggered breaths.

He pulled his fingers and his cock out of you, collapsing back to shoot white spurts of his seed onto his stomach, working himself empty with his hand. You crawled to his side, watching in awe as his dick twitched as if having a mind of its own. You waited until he was finished to dip your head and bring your tongue to his stomach, licking up the remains.

He made a high-pitched sound of surprise that made you giggle. Watching with wide eyes and an almost pained expression as you licked him clean.

"I think I'm in love with you," he announced breathlessly. "Lay down." Despite how exhausted he looked, he forced himself to sit up, that sunshine hair dancing around his flushed face. "It's your turn."

"I don't need to, Shinji, really." You shook your head, clamping your thighs together.

"No, fuck that." He mindlessly pushed you down into the mattress. "I'm eating your pussy until you're cumming on my face, so do as you're told and lay back."

You squeaked, head spinning as he yanked your legs apart and buried his face into your already ruined pussy. He meant business, finding your clit and sucking on it, lapping his pierced tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips were bucking wildly, already having endured so much stimulation, he had to pin you down, pressing a hand to your stomach to prevent you from lifting your hips.

It was the quietest he had been all night, aside from the lewd slurping noises, so determined to make you see stars. He didn't care how long it took, or how tired he was at having his own orgasm ripped through him. He wasn't going to stop until you'd had your fair share, pumping and curling his fingers in and out of you again.

"I - I think I'm close!" You cried to him, still twitching and squirming about in his silk sheets, at least as much as you could with him pinning you down.

He groaned against you in reply, sucking on your clit hard and twisting his fingers in and out of you at an impossible pace. Moments later, your senses exploded, ceasing to function properly. You saw white and heard static, floating in another realm until you landed back in this one, with Shinji brushing your sweaty hair from your face and caressing your cheek. He sounded distant at first, laughing quietly and kissing away tears from overstimulation.

Then you heard him clearly again. "You okay, doll?" Doll. The damned pet name that started this whole mess, Shinji's favorite thing to call you, it seemed.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Your body was cold, like all the energy you had stored had been expended. Without realizing, you were curling into him, seeking his warmth. "I'm so sleepy."

"Yeah?" He chuckled affectionately at you, his voice hoarse. It was a sound you wish you could store in a jar and take with you everywhere you went, to listen to whenever you wanted. "Me too. Ya wanna go to bed with me?"

"Shouldn't I clean myself up a bit?" You croaked, though as you uttered the words, you weren't sure how you were going to get your limp body into motion. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fancy sheets." You smiled lazily.

"Don't you worry about that," he cooed. "I'll go get a warm cloth so you can feel nice."

You watched his skinny figure half-saunter half-stagger from the bed and to the bathroom, missing his warmth already. As you lay atop his fine sheets, you had the thought that you never wanted to leave. This stranger's home had become your new favorite place, this stranger your new favorite person. Goofy, witty, protective, unique, easygoing, and definitely good in bed...you were so damn glad he used that stupid pickup line on you at the bar.

At the sound of the distant running water, you let your eyes shut, stirring only when you heard him come back, the bed shifting under his weight. He gently pulled your legs apart and cleaned up the sticky mess the both of you left behind, grinning a tad when you flinched and twitched, still sensitive and slightly sore.

He hurried away to toss the cloth in the hamper, coming back to hit the lights and throw the sheets over your naked bodies. You wasted no time finding him in the dark, snaking an arm around his chest and lifting your leg to drape across his waist. He sighed contentedly, pulling you into him and running his fingers along your side.

The gesture must've reminded him of where his fingers had been earlier. "What was that fingers in the mouth business about? You like sucking on stuff?"

"I thought we were going to bed?" You pouted, avoiding his question.

"Alright, alright," he laughed, falling back into silence momentarily.

But Shinji didn't know how to shut up for long. "Looks like my pickup line was pretty effective," he muttered pridefully.

You giggled tiredly at him. "I guess it was, dork."

"It will be a great story to tell our kids in the future," he said.

"What?"

"What?"

Shinji's wifey tag: @tomitsulikeslemons :P

i feel like i haven't had ANY time to indulge in any of my hobbies lately and im STARTING TO GET CRANKY !!! HMPH HMPH

my hair is soooo pullable and yet nobody is using it to put me in my place. fucked up

shinji hirako. mixed feelings about this one tbh

carrd | twt | bsky | ig

gotta bring this back up ☝🏻 no i won't ever shut up about it

—I trip and fall in love just like a Tuesday drunk

I always go all in, all in, all in

Over the handlebars, hittin’ the ground so hard

If I’m alone fallin’, fallin’, fallin’,

We ain’t gotta talk about it—

This is based on this AMAZING CUTIE fic @darthwhorecrux wrote!! GO READ IT. IT’S SO CUTE AND FUNNY 🤭 I was giggling and kicking my feet the whole time! :

When it got to ~that part~ I KNEW I had to draw it lmao I can’t help myself I was SQUEALING

I was also listening to “Handlebars” by JENNIE and Dua Lipa on REPEAT while drawing this, I felt like it fit the vibe~

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Post by @darthwhorecrux

💬 18  🔁 5  ❤️ 60 · I tried to write for another character but Shinji LITERALLY stormed into my room, flipped my desk, threw my laptop, broke

i got extremely drunk last night and the horny demon possessed me i'm so sorry 😭

Shinji Hirako and Hiyori Sarugaki - Rebirth of Souls

May I add you to my bleach writers list?

Absolutely! I am honored you want to 💖<333 thank u thank u!!!