Latest Posts by darthwhorecrux - Page 3

Baby Shinji...those chubby and squishy cheeks 😘

(Idk the artist, anyone know tell me, so I can credit)

Shinji: Do you mind if I come in? Mayuri: Not at all. Do you mind if I leave?

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢, 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐬 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫…

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Shuhei Hisagi, Hirako Shinji, Kurosaki Ichigo

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello !! I hope you’re having a wonderful day (⌒‿⌒) may I request headcanons of Shuhei, Yumichika, and Shinji with an s/o that’s Kenpachi’s daughter? Maybe with some gap moe where she has a similar aggressive fighting style as Kenpachi then is very sweet and happy-go-lucky (like Yachiru!!)

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I just love how all the Captains are getting a chance to have a daughter who practically scares all the other subordinates >.< Since I don’t write for Yumichika, I swapped him with Ichigo (cuz it’s also fun giving him stress with anything Kenpachi) Thanks for thr request!!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Shuhei Hisagi

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi had absolutely not a clue you were Zaraki’s daughter the first time he met you, he just knew there was something crazy, dangerous and magnetic about you, and he really shouldn’t be drawn to but absolutely was.

˚₊‧꒰ა You caught him staring when you passed him in the Seireitei gardens and shot him a grin that showed slightly too sharp teeth and zero shame, sending his brain somewhere north of useless.

˚₊‧꒰ა When he finally learned who your father was, it was from Ikkaku, who very kindly slapped the back of Hisagi’s head and muttered, “Oi, you’re sniffin’ round Zaraki’s kid, mate. Best have a bloody will ready.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That was the moment he immediately considered getting his affairs in order but realised he’d rather die than give up a chance to be near you.

˚₊‧꒰ა The first date was a mess, and he still got dragged into it; you insisted on sparring for fun, and the two of you ended up in a crumbling training yard, bruised and laughing

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” you called, wiping some dirt from your cheek with the back of your hand, “if you’re gonna fall for me, you better keep up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He found it absolutely thrilling that you thought fighting was flirting and somehow adapted faster than anyone expected, even you

˚₊‧꒰ა You stole his sake once during a late night drinking session at his division and refused to give it back unless he could wrestle it off you; you won, and he still claims he let you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Other times, he would wake up to find you sprawled across his bed, limbs thrown wide like you owned it, his uniform shirt hanging off one shoulder because you tore it sometime during the night.

˚₊‧꒰ა You teased him mercilessly about his tattoo, asking if you could give him a few more “battle marks” of your own and then cackled when he flushed when you dragged your fingers halfway down his chest to show where you want to plant them.

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi got on surprisingly well with your father, mostly because he treated Zaraki with open respect and absolutely no grovelling fear, though he was definitely one wrong word away from getting flattened most days.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Tch. If ya hurt her, kid,” Zaraki grunted once, massive hand clapping Hisagi’s shoulder so hard he nearly face-planted, “I’ll pull yer guts out through yer nostrils.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You found it hilarious and made a point of hanging off Hisagi’s shoulders, legs wrapped round his waist, kissing him stupid in public, daring anyone to comment.

˚₊‧꒰ა He loved it when you crashed his office, flopping onto his paperwork with a loud “I’m bored. I want to be entertained,” and he pretended to be exasperated but dropped everything within minutes to curl up beside you which eventually leads to a wrestling match and a power nap.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were times he secretly enjoyed being dragged into ridiculous Zaraki family outings, like ‘friendly’ brawls, Hollow hunting, and one memorably awful camping trip where you tried (and failed) to cook a rabbit over open flame.

˚₊‧꒰ა “What are you going to do without me,” he laughed, poking your burnt rabbit corpse with a stick while you scowled.

˚₊‧꒰ა If he ever got a bad nightmare, you were both the type to pretend it didn’t happen, tangled together under thin sheets, breath evening out in the small hours without a word.

˚₊‧꒰ა You taught him how to sharpen his instincts beyond textbook fighting, how to smell blood on the wind, how to listen for the wrong kind of silence, and he taught you how to steady your rage before it burnt you alive.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wouldn’t say a word about this, but he has a secret tattoo of your name inked small and low on his hipbone where nobody would ever see unless you peeled him out of his uniform yourself.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Only person I ever wanted to be reckless for,” he muttered once against your collarbone after a near-death mission, voice rough with something he refused to call love but was anyway.

Hirako Shinji

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji spotted you once tearing through a group of low-ranked thugs in the Rukongai with a huge grin on your face and thought, Well, there goes my bloody sanity.

˚₊‧꒰ა You met properly when you were assigned as a temporary reinforcement to the Visoreds for a Hollow hunt, and Shinji spent the entire briefing pointedly not staring at the way your hips moved each time you walked, because, “My eyed were glued to your zanpakuto.”

˚₊‧꒰ა After you almost sliced a Hollow clean in half while flipping over its back like it was a plaything, Shinji sidled up next to you, hands in his pockets, lazy grin in place, and said, “Oi, yer dad teach ya that, or are you just naturally mental?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji knew you were Zaraki’s kiddo before you even opened your mouth; it was in the swagger, the craze in your eyes, the grin that promised chaos.

˚₊‧꒰ა First date was not so much a date as it was Shinji daring you to join him for sake and terrible karaoke in some dive bar on the far side of the Seireitei. You had stole the microphone halfway through and belted out a foul-mouthed drinking song so gloriously badly that Shinji damn near proposed on the spot.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Yer a bloody nightmare,” he told you later, arm slung round your shoulders, dragging you close enough to smell the cheap alcohol on his breath, “and I’m already in too deep.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You sparred constantly, usually ending with you pinning him or he pinning you, both of you panting and laughing and occasionally snogging against the ground until someone threw a sandal at your heads.

˚₊‧꒰ა Zaraki didn’t hate Shinji, which was about the highest praise Shinji could’ve asked for, even though your father muttered things like, “At least the tosser’s got some teeth,”

˚₊‧꒰ა “If he so much as makes ya cry, girl,” Zaraki warned once, cracking his knuckles loudly enough to make the table rattle, “I’ll break every bleedin’ rib in his body.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You delighted in testing Shinji’s patience, picking fights with him in the middle of Division meetings, stealing his captain’s haori and wearing it as a dress, sneaking sake into his paperwork stacks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Oi, love,” he drawled once when he caught you sneaking through his window at midnight, “you come here to kill me or kiss me?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji was a sucker for your wild, reckless laughter, the way you treated every battle like a bloody dance floor, the way you made the world feel sharp and electric again.

˚₊‧꒰ა He let you crash at his place whenever you wanted, sprawling across his bed like a queen, yelling at him to bring snacks and sake as if you owned the place, which, honestly, you kind of did.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once dyed his hair pink as a prank while he was asleep; he wore it for three days just to piss off everyone at the Captain’s meetings and you laughed so hard you cried.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Don’t threaten me with a good time, love,” he grinned when you teased him about being whipped, dragging you into his lap with no effort at all.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d drag him to family dinners with Zaraki and Yachiru where someone usually bled before dessert; and he never complained once, even when he lost three teeth once from a ‘friendly’ brawl.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once dared Shinji to fight you with one hand tied behind his back; he won, but only because he cheated and used his mouth to pin your wrist to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re bloody trouble,” he whispered into your hair once, after dragging you laughing into bed after a fight, “and I’m the idiot who loves it.”

Kurosaki Ichigo

˚₊‧꒰ა When this little strawberry found out who your dad was after you’d already knocked him flat during a training match, it made the whole situation even worse, because now he had bruises and the mental image of Zaraki’s murderous glare burning holes in his back.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Wait! Zaraki’s your dad?! Seriously?! That’s...that’s not even fair,” Ichigo groaned, rubbing his ribs while you leaned smugly on your sword.

˚₊‧꒰ა You just grinned and replied, “If you’re gonna date me, you’d better stop whining and fight harder, Kurosaki.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Ichigo thought dating you was going to be exhausting, and he was completely right, but he also never had more fun in his life.

˚₊‧꒰ა You dragged him headfirst into chaos on the regular—training in the middle of the night, brawls in underground rings, Hollow bait missions you definitely weren’t authorised to take part in.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’d show up late home with a busted lip and grass in his hair, muttering, “Don’t ask,” while you stood behind him looking smug and completely unbothered.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Your old man hates me,” he muttered after the third time Zaraki cracked his knuckles at him in the hallway; you just shrugged and said, “He hates everyone.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He (once) tried to kiss you in the hallway before a mission. Zaraki walked past, snorted like a bull, and Ichigo very calmly walked into a wall.

˚₊‧꒰ა You thought it was adorable how flustered he got around your family, especially since he could slice through a Menos like butter but couldn’t make eye contact with your dad for more than three seconds.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You alright there, Kurosaki?” you asked sweetly, resting your chin on his shoulder during dinner while Zaraki loomed five feet away, ready to challenge him to a duel.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once kicked him through a wall during a spar and offered him a hand while laughing, “You done being a wimp yet?” and he grabbed it, grumbling, “Hell no.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He never got used to how casual you were about injuries, like returning from missions covered in blood and saying, “It’s not mine” while stealing his rice.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least he was always there to patch up your wounds even when you insisted you were fine, muttering, “Stop moving, idiot, or I’m tying you down,” and you grinned because you knew he meant it.

˚₊‧꒰ა He once snuck into your room to surprise you and ended up on the business end of your zanpakuto because you were half-asleep and reacted on instinct.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Next time,” you mumbled, sheathing the blade, “knock first or I’ll carve your name into my wall with your blood.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Like typical guys, he secretly liked when you wore his black undershirt post-battle, even though it was way too long on you and covered in dust, because it meant you were still breathing.

˚₊‧꒰ა He respected the hell out of your strength but never tried to compete with it—he wasn’t interested in being stronger than you, only in being strong with you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite being constantly stressed around your dad, Ichigo somehow earned Zaraki’s grudging approval by throwing himself in front of you during a mission once and almost getting crushed for it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Tch,” Zaraki said after dragging him out of the dirt, “Ya might be an idiot, but you’re a tough one. Don’t died cuz we still gotta fight later.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You always made Ichigo feel like the world was on fire, but in a way that made him want to run toward the flames instead of away from them.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @villainsrtasty @foxycrafterofgreenwood @carnationdoe @darthwhorecrux

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

"i miss him" says girl about the fictional guy she thinks about every hour of every day

This man is a health hazard!

bleach confession!!! lately all ive been able to think about is Shunsui Kyoraku and how turned on he would get by edging his lover to the point of tears/begging….

nsfw. Smut.

“Why all the tears, my petal?”, he asked, his voice soft but actions cruel!

For the fourth time he denied you an orgasm. His dick was sliding in and out of your crying cunt at a tortuously slow pace— your insides desperately trying to grasp onto his mean cock, begging to keep going.

He could tell when you were about to release your sweet juices all over his cock and would purposely slow down to the point of abandonment.

He knew he was in deep shit once this was all done.

Yet it was sweet to see his precious flower begging in tears.

“Don’t stop, please Shunsui! Please fuck me! Don’t slow down! Shunsui! Please let me cum!!” You begged when his hips stopped moving once more— your pussy fluttering and your body at the brink of convulsing only for it to all come crashing down.

He reached forward to brush away your tears of frustration and dissatisfaction— his thumb gently gliding across your wet cheeks.

“Don’t worry petal. We got all night ahead of us. So don’t get impatient”, he explained, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. He leaned forward to whisper- “I’ll make my sweet flower cum so much she will beg me to stop”.

And with that promise, he played a new game.

“would you die for me?”

you’re laying on sukuna’s bare chest, fingers tracing the dark ink of his tattoos. he scoffs, glancing from his phone down to you before rolling his eyes.

“why would i be dying?”

“like… I don’t know, would you jump in front of a bullet to save me?”

“obviously.”

you huff out a bit of laughter.

“you would?”

his red eyes meet yours, a bored look in them.

“yes idiot, i would jump in front of a bullet to save you.”

“that’s so sweet.”

“yeah i know, boyfriend of the year,” sukuna grumbles, going back to his phone.

it’s silent for another moment before you think of something else.

…

“would you… kill for me?”

his grip on you tightens for a minute and he sets his phone down. one rough hands comes up and clasps your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his.

“do i need to?”

your eyes widen slightly, gulping at the intensity in his.

“i… well no… not right now, i just wondered if you would.”

“yes.”

he releases your jaw and your head drops back to his chest. he goes back to his phone as your heart pounds a little harder in your chest.

…

“… ‘kuna?”

“yeah?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

METALLICA AND GEGE YOU ARE FOREVER MY GOATS

The next station is...

Rukia: Who the fuck is burning down my kitchen??

Renji, on his Instagram 3 minutes ago: Making dinner for my beautiful wife!

confession: the thought of aizen being extremely needy in the morning makes my loins froth

nsfw.

He quietly pushes your panties to the side and presses the tip of his leaky morning wood against your folds. Just the smooth head slips in but it has you stir in your sleep and push away— sliding him back out and turning away with your back against him.

He gives you a moment to settle back into your slumber before spooning you from behind. He tries again and this time it was a successful invasion.

You finally feel something slip inside your walls and your eyes snap open in shock. The tender kisses along your bare arms soothe your racing heart.

“Good morning dear”, he whispers while giving you another minute before he began moving his hips.

“Sosuke! My love. It’s very early”, you moaned, both in annoyance and in pleasure.

“Love is not bound to time, my dear”, he replied while picking up the pace from behind.

“Sosuke. Let me have another hour of rest. I’m very tired”, you begged, but your begging was not convincing enough.

“And I have grown tired waiting for you. Let me have what is mine”. He was not going to let you sleep until he came inside you twice.

And once he did fill you up, you became restless instead.

“Another round my dear?”, he suggested, his cock already halfway there.

hmmm how Shinji is gonna cheer Kisuke up

BoyfriendToji who loves to spoil you whenever he got his paycheck. He might be irresponsible sometimes but he loves to spoil his princess with some good meals & meaningful gifts.

BoyfriendToji who is jealous as hell whenever a man is coming to close to you. He wants everyone to know that you are his and his alone. He knows that you could do better, so he secretly is insecure and afraid to loose you.

BoyfriendToji who has his hand always on your waist or butt wherever you go. He is possessive, but also just wants to make sure, you are within his reach incase some creep has some stupid ideas in mind.

BoyfriendToji who loves to fuck you for hours relentlessly and mercilessly until you will pass out on him. He loves to see you coming undone multiple times, until you are just a shaky trembling mess but he loves every second of it.

BoyfriendToji who pulls you onto his chest when you are sleeping peacefully. Enjoying your warmth and closeness, looking at you with a lovestruck gaze while he showers you with gentle hair pats and soft back stroking.

BoyfriendToji who loves to tease you while you try to shower in peace. He always sneaks inside the bathroom, taking your razor hiding it away or greedily grasping your butt and then hiding behind the curtain. Like if you wouldn’t see his massive shadow.

BoyfriendToji who slaps your face with his fat girthy cock everytime whenever you give him head. Why? Cause he finds it amusing and loves to see your reaction when you are not expecting it at all.

BoyfriendToji who wakes you up with eating your delicious pussy out. He loves to see how you slowly wake up out of your daze and catch him between your thighs, his tongue pleasuring you so fucking heavenly. He smirks up at you with a wink and tells you to relax and how pretty you look while his tongue fucks you.

BoyfriendToji who calls you with so many cute pet names. Doll, Sweetheart, Princess, Baby, Babe and especially Mama. He can’t help it but loves it to call you Mama, especially when he got you pregnant.

BoyfriendToji who comforts you everytime you had a bad day. Pulling you into his bulky frame, showering you with kisses and cooking you your comfort meal. Afterwards he would give you the best pleasure you could ever ask for.

BoyfriendToji who loves to choke you while he fucks you in a mean matting press. Seing all your little cute reactions and gasps for air while he pounds your poor cunt roughly, your body hitting the headboard back and forth on how mean he thrusts into you.

BoyfriendToji who fills you up every time he fucks you. He loves seeing you full with his cum, dripping and leaking like a filthy mess for him. He loves to fuck you again after it, stuffing his cum even deeper inside your cunt.

BoyfriendToji who loves to see you on all fours before him on the bed, while he yanks you back by the hair and slams his cock slowly but deep into your cunt. Slowly pulling it out again and slamming it back inside. His thrusts are so deep that you can’t help but feel dizzy and almost pass out from it.

BoyfriendToji who picks you up wherever you are and no matter what time it is. He wants to make sure you come back home safe and sound to him.

BoyfriendToji who let grow his beard sometimes when he’s lazy, just so you can tease him with it. When the real reason is that he likes it when you shave his beard off.

BoyfriendToji who seems cold to the rest of the world but not with you. He tells you everyday how much he loves you and how much of a lucky guy he is having you.

BoyfriendToji who devours your mouth when he kisses you. Not just a simple light kiss but deep, messy and sloppy kisses, including a lot of saliva and tongue. Even in public, he doesn’t care at all.

Kenpachissluut writes ᥫ᭡

old redraw of an old maki drawing

Main Event Post.

June 22 is Alternate Universe.

Here is some list of prompts.

Pick your own. Have someone pick for you. Use a random generator and see what you get!!!

Have fun! Can’t wait to see what you come up with!

When he thinks no one is looking…

I bet you can’t guess what i’m about to say….this was inspired by a fanfic LOL specifically “Flipped Velvet” by @soprawrites 😏 do yourself a favor and go read it!!! It’s so good and smutty 😩 This was also motivated by @whitefoxfiction asking what it would take for me to draw the outfit and the answer is NOTHING. Give me some smut and ask me to draw it and i am ON IT 🫡

(and yes, i am still in the absolute VICE GRIP of Oblivion and Lucien Lachance pls don’t hate me I just love hot men with nice voices 🥺)

Ugh, lovee tis hairstyle on Shinji!

(Idk the artist, if anyone knows tell me, so I can credit)

@darthwhorecrux @villainsrtasty @tomitsulikeslemons

Happy belated birthday Shinji!

Had this idea running for a while, and decided to share it for his birthday! I’ve been obsessed with Severance and it gave me an idea. You don’t have to have watched Severance for this one-shot. Also Kubo acknowledged the inconsistent timeline with jazz and TBTP arc lmao, so I’m not gonna fix it either.

Summary: Shinji learns, in real time, how much music brings people together, time and time again.

CW: Angst, mild horror, time skipping, but it has a happy ending. SFW!

Word count: 4570

For what it was worth, Shinji dreaded most of the bureaucratic duties he was tasked with since becoming captain. He didn’t quite see himself as a leader, but oddly enough, it felt natural to command the Fifth Division. There were times where he wondered if he was doing what was right, what was necessary for his squad, but those doubts left as fast as they came. He never liked to entertain any unnecessary thoughts.

But it didn’t help that Sakanade was gleeful about Lieutenant Aizen. It left Shinji uneasy around his subordinate. An immediate repulsion that someone his zanpakuto resonated with made Shinji wary.

But there were perks to being a captain, he couldn’t deny that. One such perk was visiting the World of the Living more freely. Soul Society is, understandably, too militaristic for his liking. The breath of fresh air amongst living mortals was a one Shinji readily accepted.

He envied their exploration in the arts. It was something him and Captain Otoribashi bonded over. Living mortals were incredibly creative in their short lifespans, music, visual arts, storytelling, all of it left Shinji wanting more.

It had been a few years since Shinji’s last visit. One he was looking forward to. He wondered what new things humans discovered and shared amongst themselves.

Shinji’s gigai was as stiff as ever, as he trudged down the bustling streets. He cranked his neck from time to time, scoffing at the rigidness of the artificial body, “they need to get better at makin’ these” he grumbled.

But his sour mood wouldn’t stay for long. Springtime was in full bloom in the World of the Living, as trees were dotted with buds and blossoms, signs of warmer weather to come. He took his time exploring the city. There were new art trends, galleries to visit and clothing stores to shop at. And his new Captain income was certainly another perk in coming here.

Yet he didn’t buy much at this visit, not many things caught his eye, but as he walked towards the area of where his Senkaimon gate was, he heard music playing in an innocuous-looking store.

“Sure, why the hell not.” Shinji mumbled.  

He stepped into the group of people as he tried to make his way through the front of whatever they were circled around. The music grew louder and louder the closer he approached.

In the centre of the throngs of people, stood some kind of device, it was spinning something, with a horn-like object playing music from it. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a phonograph!” You chirped up. Shinji looked at you, but you were enthralled in the device, your eyes sparkling with wonder and enjoyment.

You seemed… friendly and you seemed to know what it was about. He scooted his way over to you as more people piled in his spot. He had questions he needed answering.

“So how does it work?” He asks, standing right next to you.

You jumped at the sound of his voice, to which he chuckled. “Oh,” you sheepishly said, “gimme a moment and I’ll get back to you.”

Shinji stood there, listening to the music, and watching you. He didn’t quite… care for the music, it sounded like a western military band for his tastes, but he enjoyed the reactions you gave to it. Well, not to the music…

As Shinji watched you from the corner of his eye, he could see your eyes dart around the device. The music was secondary, it was the device itself that you were starstruck by. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stood there for, but he realize, the song had started again.

“Hey, so how about my question earlier?” He mumbled.

You looked at him with surprise, “I didn’t think you’d still be here!” And now you felt guilty. You took a glance at the phonograph, then back at Shinji. Maybe it’ll be quick and you can come back inside?

So you pulled him out of the shop. Dusk was settling into the streets, with the faint hum of cicadas fading away.

“You asked me how it works, right?” You asked him, finally getting a look at him. You had never seen this man before. He looked a bit unusual to you with his long blonde hair, and his straight, yet white, teeth.

“Yeah, you knew what it was.” Shinji explained, wondering if he was wasting his time.

“So that was a phonograph, the first of its kind!” You exclaimed. “That disc you saw, that was going round and round,” you twirled your fingers in the air, “has vibrations recorded on to it.” Your eyes were sparkling again, and with the glow of dusk behind you, Shinji had to admit you were pretty cute. “Those vibrations are music!”

“Wow, how do you know about this?” He asked, giving her a look.

You looked embarrassed, flustered even, “I’m a maid at the inventor’s house,” you looked at the ground.

Ah right, Shinji surmised. The few drawbacks of the World of the Living, the sorry state of women’s education.

“Well ya did a good job explaining it to me.” He ruffled your head, “you did your boss proud.”

You blushed at the compliment, “thank you!”

“I’m Shinji by the way.”

You introduced yourself as well, as you began to relax around the man. He had more technical questions about the device, and you hoped you could answer them as well as your boss explained to you.

Night was drawing near, and so was your hunger. Your stomach grumbled loudly, leaving you embarrassed.

“Hey, I took up a lot of yer time today.” Shinji drawled, “I’ll treat you to dinner, least I can do.” He shrug his shoulder, “I’m new here though, so take me to a place ya like.”

“Oh, ok!” That would explain the foreign air the man, Shinji, gave off. His accent was oddly charming. The two of you strolled down the street, enjoying the light conversation and the fading sound of the phonograph.

Shinji, the mysterious man of your youth, made frequent visits to you once he found out your days off or when your shift ended. It embarrassed you at first, for him to see you in your maid uniform, but he would give his Cheshire grin and say you looked cute regardless.

Hand in hand, the two of you would walk across the city, as you instilled in him a love for music. So much so, you would sing for him. At first, you were embarrassed, but Shinji was enamoured. You wrote lyrics to the music that the phonograph would play and eventually sang them to Shinji. “I’ll always be your number one fan, babe.” He would chuckle, kissing you on the lips.

Tonight though, you told him that your boss hoped that his invention would bring people together.

“I think he did that, eh?” Shinji chuckled, squeezing your hand.

You smiled, squeezing his hand in return, “he did, but –”

“But?”

“I hope this means we hear more and different kinds of music.” You murmured, as the two of you listened to the phonograph in store.

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but this gives people something to think about, you know?” You said softly, wondering what kind of music, sounds, noises, people would record. “I just think it’s exciting.”

 Shinji couldn’t help but smile at your thought, “yeah, yer right about that. And that means I can hear you sing more and more.” You blushed as you shoved Shinji away, his laughter filling your ears.

Shinji decided to buy a phonograph for you (and for him). A gift from him you could hold on to when Soul Society was too demanding of him, and he couldn’t see you. His heart fluttered as you cried at his gift, shocked that he would buy something so expensive for someone like you. You wrote a particular song for him that night, a song to show your appreciation and love for him.

But you were special to him – special in a way he couldn’t say. Unlike you, his words bubbled up in his throat, to only pop and vanish once he opened his mouth. He could only hug and kiss you. Physically showing his sincerity for you.

But maybe, his gift was too much for you.

Shinji stared at the barricaded apartment – he had only been gone a few days. But in that small window of time, someone had broken into your home and murdered you, stealing the phonograph in the process.

Human lives… were short… but this was cruel.

Music filled Shinji’s office in the Squad 5 barracks. He fixed his bangs in the mirror. Sometimes, he could hear your voice, song and laughter, as if teasing him about how transfixed he was on his hair.

He made his record player louder.

How many years had it been since your murder? 20 years? 40 years? It bothered Shinji that he continued to grow and “live” (or live as well as any Shinigami could), while you were becoming a distant memory, one he dreaded losing to time.

Some days, like today, he wondered if it was worth exploring Rukongai for you. “But that’s like finding a needle in a hay stack,” he mumbled, lowering the volume of his music.

“Finding what, Captain?” Lieutenant Aizen asked, appearing at the door of Shinji’s office.

It grated Shinji to no end how his lieutenant appeared at such convenient times, as if he was trying to catch Shinji off guard.

Might as well give this dog a bone Shinji thought to himself, wondering what motive Aizen was playing at.

“Can ya get me the records of the souls that entered in the past 50 years?”

Aizen gave a confused look, “what for, sir?”

“I got a bone to pick with a human – they owe me something.”

“I see…” Aizen said, disbelief covering his face, “I’ll get on that.”

“Ya better, now get outta here Sosuke, got a Captain’s meeting comin’” He shooed Aizen away, wondering if the lieutenant would be a nuisance somehow.

As much grief as Shinji and Sosuke gave each other, Shinji hated to admit that the man did do his work diligently. After the captains’ meeting, Shinji was greeted with a stack of entries of all new souls that had entered in the past 50 years or so.

Soul Society, for all its bureaucracy and idiosyncrasies, collected information on souls that were entering, documenting their age, and if possible, their “category” of death. Shinji waded through the papers, scanning and skimming to find your name amongst the thousands that have passed.

He started with the oldest entries. He knew Sosuke would get overtly suspicious if he asked him for files from a specific set of years, so he would feign interest with the newer souls that had passed.

And within a few hours, he found your name. Shinji let out a sigh, partly of relief – knowing that you passed on without having the need for a Shinigami nor did you interact with a hollow, but sad that you were now in Rukongai District 48 South. Not as dangerous as those past 60, but he knew the conditions of many of the districts were in poor shape.

“Captain, I may be of help since you’re looking for someone specific.” His lieutenant approached. Shinji wanted to roll his eyes but wanted to mess with his lieutenant a little.

“If ya want to, sure.” Shinji responded, flipping through documents haphazardly. “I’m looking for a Taichi Suzuki, from Nakasu.”

Sosuke nodded his head and began to flip through the newer entries, as Shinji pretended to flip through others. The office began to darken as nightfall approached. Only the sounds of paper shuffling could be heard.

“I think I found them, sir.” Sosuke said calmly, holding the paper.

“Gimme that…” And Shinji wanted to laugh, there was a Taichi Suzuki from Nakasu in District 48 South.

"Great find, Sosuke!" Shinji wanted to cackle but gave a cheshire grin as he swiped the document out of his lieutenant’s hands.

“Let’s call it a day, see ya bright an early tomorrow.” Sosuke nodded his head as he made his leave.

Once Shinji was certain he was alone, he rubbed his face, sighing. It was one of the rare times in his life where he felt nervous. You had been in Soul Society for 50 years; would you even remember him?

But that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, his bed was calling his name.

Rukongai District 48 South was an inconspicuous place, like many of the other districts in the 40s. The houses were shabbier than the ones before it, but there was still some semblance of a town that people resided in, rather than the scant huts that were in the 50s and 60s.

Shinji casually strolled down the worn paths, opting to leave his captain’s haori in the Squad 5 barracks. He wasn’t here on official business, so there was no need to scare off the townsfolk of his presence. He would look like any other random fodder of Shinigami passing by.

There wasn’t anything remarkable that made the district standout. Some districts were known for their agricultural endeavours, while others for fashion or even furniture. But District 49 North was as unremarkable as they come. There wasn’t a even a flutter of spiritual pressure in the vicinity.

Shinji walked into a busy tea shop. He wasn’t particularly hungry or thirsty, but oftentimes these were the best places for information. Finding an empty table, he strummed his fingers waiting to be served. The conversations seemed to be irrelevant to what he was looking for.

“What nice weather we’re having.”

“We haven’t had much rain though. Not good for the crops.”

“Well the river is teeming with fish.”

He let out a yawn as he continued to wait, with nothing of interest to capture his attention.

“Sorry for the wait, sir! What would you like?”

Shinji’s eyes widen at you, deep in an apologetic bow, not yet lifting yourself up.

“Hey, doll. Long time, no see.” Shinji cooly said, a small grin on his face.

You gasped and screeched, alerting the other customers. You quickly apologized to the other patrons before heading to the back, asking for a small break.

Shinji couldn’t help but smile. You remembered him just fine.

Shinji conveniently paid the tea shop owners a hefty sum to let you free for the day, and they didn’t bat an eye. Just like when you were alive, Shinji continued to amaze you.

“How are you likin’ it here? You ok?” He asked, as the two of you sat along the river.

“It’s… fine? I guess. It’s strange not needing to eat.” You explained. “But some nights I get to sing to customers.” You gave a sheepish smile, “I think I’m getting better.”

“I miss hearin’ ya sing for me, doll.” Shinji murmured, cupping your face in his hand. You gave him a warm smile and began to hum an old tune, a song he hadn’t heard in decades. You began to sing softly to him, words long forgotten that he yearned to remember.

But once your song was over, you opened your eyes, confusion evident in them, “I don’t get it, Shinji – are you dead too?”

Shinji sighed and scratched the back of his head. He had a lot to explain to you.

“I can explain it to you if ya want, but it’s long.”

You gave him a gentle smile, as you placed your hand on top of his, “For you, I have all the time in the world.”

Shinji felt his heart flutter.

It took another decade, but Shinji was adamant on moving you into Rukongai District 2. He kept that paperwork separately, lest Lieutenant Aizen find out. But Old Man Yamamoto was a traditionalist, and moving a random soul between districts was unheard of, and almost always, immediately rejected.

Unless you were married.

Did… did you want to be married to Shinji? His mind wracked with all the ways you would say no.

There’s just no way you would agree, right? Maybe if he phrased it as a mutual, as a beneficial thing for you?

But you weren’t like that, Shinji knew as much. You didn’t ask for much, especially from him. You had repeatedly told him that seeing him again, being with him again and being together, was more than enough.

“Ah fuck it.” He grumbled, pulling an ornate box out. It was a kimono of exquisite silk and hand painted gold embellishments… his heart thudded loudly.

He made his way to District 48 North, to where you lived near the tea shop. Shinji had paid the board and rent for you, letting you keep your earnings. But as he made his way through the town, there was not a soul in sight.

Shinji grew tense with every step he made towards your home. There was no one, not a single soul present. Normally he would hear the chattering of everyday conversation, of some random children playing, but it was completely silent.

He flashed stepped towards the tea shop, dropping the box on to the ground. Blood and torn clothes were strewn all over the entrance to the shop. He could hear something inside the shop, something moving. The spiritual pressure was insignificant compared to a hollow or a seated Shinigami member, but in a district where there was no one with spiritual pressure to begin with, this was unusual to him.

Shinji quickly entered the shop and drew out his sword. He took in a deep breath as he witnessed the scene in front of him. There, in the middle of the once busy tea shop, were half eaten bodies, and some… creature gnawing on your lifeless one.

They looked hollow-like, but human sized. Without hesitation, Shinji swung his sword, killing the creature. Your body dropped onto the ground, your lifeless eyes staring at him. Shinji fell to his knees, cradling your body before running his fingers over your eyes.

His heart began to sink as your body began to fade. He quickly weaved a message to his squad, knowing that an investigation would take place soon.

But before they would come, Shinji weaved a kido spell, setting alight the kimono.

Shinji sighed as he stared at the city lights out over the horizon. Being exiled was strange. He was… free, yet not free. He could roam the World of the Living to his hearts content, but…

He hated to admit it, but he missed Soul Society.

But one thing the World of the Living did better were clothes, food and music. He didn’t care much for food, but the sheer variety astounded him. Lisa had brought pizza which he had never heard about before, but devoured immediately (much to the fury of Hiyori). Tiramisu? Hamburgers? Smoothies? He felt like he was quicker on the pulse here compared to whatever Soul Society was feeding its soldiers.

But then… there was the music. Him and Rose bonded over the different genres of music humans were producing. There were some genres he didn’t care for, but others that grabbed at him. Rose was partial to classical and rock music, but Shinji’s tastes were more “eclectic.”

He grew fond of the radio, hearing the Top 40 of any country he could find his hands on. He began to collect vinyl records of musicians he enjoyed, of unique and interesting instruments he had never heard of (Shinji immediately bought a theremin for his personal collection).

In a small part of his mind, he wondered what you would think of this. What genres would you like? The slow and calming sounds of ambient music? Or the clever and witty rhymes of hip-hop? Would you enjoy concerts? Dance clubs?

But those thoughts were becoming less frequent. He had to move on. He would hold on to his grudge for Aizen, crave revenge for not only him and the Visoreds, but also for you, but his “exile” would be to experience life for you.

 Tokyo was as bustling as ever in the night. Party goers laughing, crying and shouting, enjoying their night as Shinji walked by them. He could hear different songs play from the many shops and establishments he passed by, some were songs he recognized, others he didn’t particularly cared for.

Until he heard a familiar voice.

He swung his head to a random bar blasting a song. Shock was all over his face as he recognized that voice.

It was you!

Shinji barged inside to the few patrons enjoying their drinks and conversation. In a small corner of the bar, laid a TV with the singer, the singer with your voice.

“Oi, barkeep” Shinji shouted, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. The bartender, an older man, looked at Shinji.

“I’ll take an old fashioned and –” Shinji pointed the TV, “do you know who that is?”

The bartender looked surprised at the question but shook his head.

A patron next to Shinji, in a drunken stupor, laughed and slapped Shinji’s back, telling the name of the singer.

“She’s up and coming ya know! Got quite a following.”

“Do ya know if she’s playing a concert anytime soon?”

“Nah, but she’s got a fan club if yer interested.” The man burped, taking a pen out. He wrote the address of the fan club.

Shinji slapped his change for the drink, but bolted out the bar as soon as the song ended, his drink completely untouched.

Shinji was aware of idol culture, but he didn’t expect a similar culture for up-and-coming singers, such as you.. well was it you?

The singer sounded exactly like you, the mannerisms were eerily the same, you just wore modern clothing, your hair styled with the current trends of the time.

And you still smiled the same way that would make his heart flutter.

He had never spoke to you though, watching from a distance as you sang to the crowd. You would close your eyes at some lyrics, as if in a trance. Your songwriting astounded him, how much it sounded as if you from the past wrote it.

It had to be you. It had to be your reincarnation.

Tonight your manager, or whoever this person was organizing the event, announced that there would be a meet and greet at the end of tonight’s show. The crowd cheered as you waved politely.

Shinji took a deep breath; it was now or never.

The meet and greet was a fairly short affair. To his surprise, not many people wanted to meet with you, but that worked in his favour.

He was one of the last remaining concertgoers and he could see the weariness in your eyes. You were becoming exhausted, but you kept your smile for every fan that came your way. And now it was his turn.

Shinji extended his hand, “yer songs are beautiful.” He murmured.

You immediately grabbed his hand but jolted at the touch. Your eyes met.

“I – thank you.” You stammered, “have we met before?”

Shinji shook his head, letting go of your hand, “no, I’m just a fan of yer music.” He grinned.

You gave a look to your manager, but Shinji let go, making way for the next fan to come to you.

He slowly began to walk out of the venue before he heard yelling behind him, it was your manager. “Wait!”

Shinji stopped, letting the manager catch their breath. “I – she wants to talk to you once she’s done.”

Shinji raised his eyebrows, a flicker of hope growing inside him, but he knew better to have any expectations. He would hear you out and the two of you would go your separate ways.

He was ushered into your changing room. It wasn’t much of a room, he could see a backpack, water bottles, and some snacks. He felt guilty for some reason – should he have brought flowers?

He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Memories of you over time flashed over his mind, frustrating him. It didn’t help your voice was stuck in his head too.

“Thank you for waiting.” You barged into the room, bowing deeply at Shinji.

“It’s no problem.” He replied, waving his hand. “What’s up?”

“I just – are you sure we haven’t met?”

Shinji shook his head, “you probably saw me around a lot at yer shows.” He said softly. “I’m a big fan.”

You looked at him with confusion, “no, I swear I’ve met you before…”

Shinji shrugged his shoulders, “maybe yer used to seeing me in the crowd. This is my first time going to your meet-and-greet though.”

You sighed loudly, examining Shinji’s face. This man looked so familiar to you. His voice even sounded familiar too.

And then realization hit you, with heat spreading to your cheeks. Shinji looked at you with a curious expression, wondering what had gotten you quiet and flustered.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, “but I think I remember where.”

“Where?”

“… my dreams.”

Shinji raised his eyebrows, “I mean, maybe because I’ve been in the crowd.”

“No!” You yelled, “I mean, you looked a bit different.”

Shinji shut his mouth, letting you continue.

“You had… longer hair, much longer.” You clicked your tongue, “and I don’t think you had a piercing.” Shinji grew alarmed. “You also wore… some kind of white haori with black clothing? And carried a sword.”

Shinji sighed. He could deny this, letting you wonder, and never appearing again… but what kind of chance was this? “Fate is truly a fickle woman.”

You gave him a confused look.

“How long have ya got? There’s a lot to tell you.”

“All night.” You grinned proudly, “tell me everything Mister…”

“Shinji, just call me Shinji. Ya never did call me by my last name anyways.”

You stared at him with another confused look on your face.

Momo ran down the halls of the Squad 5 barracks in a hurry. She clutched the paperwork to her chest tightly as she sprinted past her fellow seated members, down to Captain Hirako’s office.

She panted as she entered, “I have some –” as she exhaled, “papers that require your immediate signature, sir.”

Shinji placed a new record into his player, letting it play as he got seated into desk, “sure thing, Momo. Bring ‘em here.”

Momo dropped the documents on to his desk and immediately sat down on the other chair, letting the music play as Shinji skimmed through the documents. The voice sounded familiar, “sir, is this by that one popular singer in the World of the Living?”

“Yeah it is,” he said, without looking up from his paper, “I’m her biggest fan.”

“Really?!” Momo exclaimed, “I like a lot of her songs, she’s so talented.”

“She sure is,” Shinji grinned, putting down his pen.

“But I haven’t heard this song of her’s before. Is it new?”

“I wouldn’t say new…” Shinji drawled, “but a limited, unreleased one.”

“It’s beautiful.” Momo sighed, as she continued listening to the song. Shinji smiled, humming along to the song.

For just anyone, It is not, I told you, It is only just for you I do not want it to be just once I want my song to reach you right now And the next year too Let the two of us together Go watch the cherry blossoms

Reader made a special EP for Shinji's birthday hahaha. THANKS FOR READING!!! The song at the end is the translated bits from "Yamazakura" by Taeko Onuki.

Edit: forgot to explain some things LOL

Taichi Suzuki from Nakasu is a reference to Yakuza 5 (Kiryu’s alias in the red light district)

Wedding rings weren’t really a thing in Japan until post-WWII. Usually a woman wore her obi and kimono a particular way to signify that she was married. I decided to have Shinji gift her a kimono as an engagement present of sorts.

So with the drabble challenge, it can be either DRABBLE (100), DOUBLE DRABBLE (200) or TRIPLE DRABBLE (300).

It can be reader insert or your favourite ship. It can be one character or multiple characters!

Now writing short drabbles is very hard but a great writing exercise! Again participating is optional but should be fun!!!!!

HEAR ME OUT: MILKMAN SHINJI.

IM LISTENING...AND POSSIBLY EVEN WRITING

he's super sweet every time he delivers your milk. and perhaps, just perhaps, you invite him in one of these days....

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

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

I totally forgot to upload these yesterday! I made Shinji a little birthday cake! 🎂💞

I was trying buttercream transfers, a new technique for me, and I think it came out pretty well! I can't help but feel his eyes look a little cursed, though lol.

A different transfer I was going to use but decided against is under the cut, along with the reference images!

LOOK AT THIS FUCKING DORK HES SUCH A DORK

i’m a little late, but

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL MOTHERS OUT THERE!!!!

YOU DESERVE THE WORLD ✨

Shinji would say this to his girl when she's feeling insecure ☝️☝️☝️☝️ i refuse to believe otherwise

Happy Birthday to Shinji hehe 💌✨

(Didn't have time to make anything new but wanted to make a shout out anyway lol)

Shinji Hirako, illustrated by Yuto Sano-sensei (mangaka of Gokurakugai)

🎂🎈 Happy birthday, Shinji! 🎈🎂

Hot Heat, Summer Sand: Side A

Inspired by this post of imagining Shinji in a swimsuit, since we somehow haven't gotten that yet from the fandom or Kubo (hint hint).

11k words, Shinji x reader, no real triggers than I can think of (but you're going to tear up a little, promise, because it's endearing as hell). Ice cream, swimsuit shopping, and more.

Please don't repost, reblogs are fine. I don't care if you save it to re-read later, but if you feed it into an LLM AI bot, I will feed you into a woodchipper.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. HIRAKO! You're aging like a fine wine, sir, please keep bringing the fandom good music and good times, and may you win a fight in Cour 4...

(T^T)7 @darthwhorecrux @whitefoxfiction @tomitsulikeslemons @pinguwuuuu who else did I miss, augh, I'm sorry!

NSFW AT THE END, IF YOU CLICKY, CLICKY AT YOUR OWN RISK

“Beach.”

I looked up from where I’d been fanning myself in vain, watermelon-printed uchiwa fan flapping madly. The summer heat was starting to get to me, and the humidity was even worse.

“Is this some new greeting from the World of the Living or something?” I mumbled, raising an eyebrow. “Beach to you, too, Mr. Hirako.”

The tall, lanky, recently reappointed Captain of Squad Five had a bemused expression. “No, no. Beach. As in, this is the season for it.” He was wearing slim capris with a madras lining on the turned-up cuffs, ankle socks with sandals over them, and a short-sleeved oxford, unbuttoned, over a more casual white crewneck.

The man looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a summer-edition Tokyo fashion magazine on streetwear, and I was currently marinating to death in my own sweat.

Perfect. Just perfect.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people,” I said irritably.

“What people?”

“Summer people.”

He grinned cheerfully. “I mean, sure, but not when it’s like this, no… hard not t’feel like somebody’s used gym socks in weather like this.”

That made two of us. Frankly, if I was being honest, I was pretty sure I smelled like someone’s gym socks at this point, too.

Ugh.

“Well, on that much, we can agree,” I replied. “And yes, plunging myself up to my neck in nice, cold water sounds heavenly. However, there’s two problems with that idea.”

Hirako sat, folding his long legs into a cross-legged sprawl on the shaded porch. “I’m an outta-the-box thinker… hit me.”

“Well, problem one is I burn to a crisp in the sun,” I said dryly. “So unless you want to go at night…”

“Noted,” he said, not batting an eye. “What’s difficulty number two?”

“Since I don’t like hot sunny weather and I can’t stay in the sun long, I don’t own a swimsuit.”

His eyebrows ascended up past his bangs, and his face smoothed itself into that careful non-expression most men wore when they were desperately trying to avoid thinking of something lascivious. “…also noted. C’mon, throw on some Western style clothes.”

I gave him an exhausted look and refused to move.

“The malls in the World of the Living have this magical thing called ‘air conditionin’…” Hirako said, leaning forward to lay a brief hand against my forehead. “You’re not runnin’ a fever, but you look a little overheated. Days like this, you gotta go to the mall and wait it out ‘till the sun sets and everything cools off a little.”

“Is your Vice-Captain really going to let you skip out on work?” I mumbled, trying to summon the reserves to climb to my feet.

“I’m off t’day,” Hirako chided gently. “I told you that, remember?”

“Oh,” I said stupidly, trying to cudgel my brain into some kind of functioning order.

It really is WAY too hot to think…

“C’mon,” he said patiently, pulling me to my feet. “Go splash some water on your face and change.” He plucked the uchiwa from my hand and nudged me inside. “I’ll wait out here. Hurry up, okay? You need to cool off.”

I mumbled an affirmative and shambled off in search of something a little more modern.

Stepping inside one of the shops in the large outlet mall was almost sinful. The heat and humidity instantly fled in favor of crisp, cold air, and I tried not to visibly wilt in relief. I’d never heard of Rinku Premium Outlets, but I liked them already.

“Better?”

“Yes. Much,” I replied fervently, and he chuckled.

“Y’know, if Kisuke and Mayuri are gonna start bringing television and other stuff from the World of the Living over to the Seireitei, they should really think about air conditioning,” Hirako mused.

“If that’s what’s making it bearable to exist right now, I’m putting myself on that waitlist the second they start selling it,” I promised, still a bit woozy from how oppressive it had felt outside.

“Uh huh. Anyway, we need ice cream first.”

“Ice cream?”

“You’ve had it before,” he said, surprised. “I know you have! Right?”

“I have,” I said, “but I thought you wanted to go to the beach…”

Hirako grinned. “It’s too hot right now. Besides, you need a swimsuit and sunscreen lotion first, or you’re going to be miserable. Let’s get something cold so you’re not so overheated, then we’ll go shopping.”

“…you’re going to feed me ice cream and then have me try on swimsuits? Seriously? Mr. Hirako, you wouldn’t happen to be some kind of sadist, would you?” I said, fixing him with a chilly stare.

He had the decency to look slightly abashed. “Ooops.”

“Look,” I said, debating over just how honest I wanted to be with him, “…I uh… it’s not just that I don’t own a swimsuit.”

“You don’t want to own one, huh?”

I puffed out my cheeks slightly. Annoyingly perceptive as always.

“Well, you know,” I said, trying to make a joke out of it. “Some girls worry about having the perfect bikini body. Some stick to one-pieces. Me, I’m more of a wetsuit person.”

When in doubt, sarcasm and a little self-depreciating humor…

Surprisingly, the acidic humor didn’t even get a chuckle from him. Hirako simply studied me for a moment, some rawer, more self-conscious emotion flitting across his sharp features before it was abruptly gone, malicious cheer in its place.

“Perfect,” he said, smirking. “You’ll match my non-existent abs.”

I sputtered, trying not to laugh, because laughing felt too mean… but it was too funny not to.

He poked my side. “C’mon, just let it all out.”

I snickered – quietly – so we weren’t disturbing the other customers.

“There y’go,” he said, amused at my struggles to maintain composure. “Now, what’re you gettin’? I think I want a parfait.”

“Do I get a say in this, Mr. Hirako?”

“Stop being so formal,” he griped, one long finger prodding my ribs again. “I told you just ‘Hirako’ was fine, didn’t I? I don’t do well with stiff people.”

I shrugged. “It’s just my brand of sarcasm.”

“Well, cut that bit out, would you? I feel like your high school teacher or somethin’,” he replied. “You’re my age.”

I had the perfect witty comeback, primed and ready to go, but my body decided sneezing was a better option instead.

“Ugh…”

“You gettin’ cold?”

“No,” I managed, rummaging in my pockets for a tissue. “Just allergic to impossibly stylish men, apparently.”

He blinked, jostled out of his manufactured façade of smug cheer for a moment before a delighted grin crept over his face at the snappy comeback.

“Y’know, they say it’s important to build up a tolerance. Guess I’ll have to come by more often,” he drawled, the r’s rasping pleasantly in his rough Osaka-ben accent.

I didn’t really want to admit out loud how much his voice did very nice things to my stomach, but I could feel a slight flush creeping up my cheeks.

“If you say so, Mr. Hirako.”

He fixed me with a perturbed stare.

“…er, Hirako.”

“Much better,” he said. The slight glint in his eyes made me swallow and look away.

Just keep talking. I’ll listen to the sound of your voice all day, you know.

I didn’t dare express something that vulnerable aloud, though. Guys like Hirako didn’t seem to like anything but self-assured, sassy women, and while I could dole out the sass with the best of them, the thin veneer of self-assurance I wore like armor slipped all too frequently for my liking.

“That better not be ice cream making you look so melancholy,” he said, almost gently, and I jolted out of my own thoughts.

“Oh… no. Just distracted,” I said lamely. “I’ll just get uhhh, mango? I guess the mango sorbet sounds good.”

He didn’t say anything, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he said, brown eyes flickering away to reexamine the menu pasted at the counter. “Why don’t you find a table and I’ll get our order in?”

I took the opportunity to beat a strategic retreat, cheeks burning.

It was a cute dessert shop, with only a few tables and an Alice in Wonderland theme. There were more tourists milling around than I was used to seeing, too.

It felt a bit strange, coming to the World of the Living with him, let alone holing up in a dessert shop. We’d exchanged a fair bit of witty banter over the last few months, and some of it definitely felt like flirting, but there was no way he was serious about it.

The minute I take it seriously, he’ll say it’s all a joke.

I didn’t really want to hear that.

I was pretty sure when he did my heart was going to snap audibly in two.

“Oooh, a window seat. Good choice,” Hirako said, plunking himself down in the other café chair across from me. “They said they’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly fumbling for my wallet. “Sorry, how much was mine?”

He shrugged.

“Well, I need to—”

“Ah-ah. None of that. I’m a captain again, remember? I can afford it,” he said.

“Well yeah, but…”

“Look, if I admitted how much money I’ve spent on clothes and records in the last month, you’d probably lose all respect for me.” Hirako sounded bemused, glancing out the window at the passerby. “Just let me cover it today, okay? It was my idea anyway.”

I fumbled for a reply. “…thanks.”

Another shrug. “So you don’t swim?”

“Well, I know how to swim,” I said lamely. “I just don’t really like feeling so undressed in front of other people. And a lot of swimsuits are pretty girly and frilly and pink, and that stuff doesn’t really suit me.”

“Doesn’t suit you? Or you just don’t like it?” Hirako asked.

“…both, I guess. I really can’t stand pink. I like punk stuff more, if we’re talking Western clothes. Or rock and roll. But the super edgy stuff in those styles isn’t really my thing either.”

“Oh, you like preppy punk,” Hirako said. “Classic stuff with edgy bits mixed in. Off-kilter without bein’ offensive.”

I blinked. “Uh…”

“This stuff,” he said, pulling out his soul pager and tapping something in. He handed it over, and I scrolled through the pictures his search had brought up.

“Yeah, I like this. Wow, soul pagers do this now, huh?”

He grinned, fishing in his pocket. “I forgot, since you’re not a shinigami you don’t have one of these. They do this, too—”

He pulled out a small pair of clip headphones, plugging them into the phone and tapping through the options for a moment before offering me a headphone. “Here.”

I slipped it over my ear and felt a smile blossom as the music hit me. “Oh! Caravan Palace. I got you hooked, huh?”

“I think Brotherswing probably stands as my favorite song from them, but Avalanches is a close second,” he admitted. “I still like ragtime and swing the most, because those were the first styles I heard when it came over to Japan, but electro-swing is interesting too.”

“I like Blonde Dynamite,” I said without thinking, then finally absorbed the expression of the very blonde man sitting across from me and turned scarlet.

“Is that right?” Hirako said, a hint of smugness laced through his voice. “You have good taste.”

In music or men? I shrieked inwardly, wanting to crawl under the table and die of embarrassment.

Like a thoughtful angel sent to pardon me, a waitress stopped next to our table and set a towering parfait in front of me and a bowl of sorbet in front of Hirako. “Please enjoy!” she said, before offering a slight bow and scurrying off to serve the next customer.

Hirako chuckled, retrieving the headphones and putting everything away before snagging the parfait and scooting my bowl of sorbet over. “Guess this isn’t what guys usually order.”

I shrugged, my face cooling a bit. “Probably the same for me. Oh, when are the others coming?”

“Hmm?”

“Aren’t we meeting up with other people?”

“Nope.” He took a bite, the metal stud in his tongue glinting for a moment before it scraped against the spoon faintly.

“…you’re wasting your whole day off with just me?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” he disagreed, brown eyes not wavering from mine as his tongue curved against the metal spoon, licking the chocolate sauce from it. “I’m never bored around you. That’s pretty rare, for me.” He took another bite. Slowly.

“…are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Hirako?” I asked dryly, popping a spoonful of mango sorbet in my own mouth.

Oooh. This was a good decision.

“Hirako.”

“Hirako,” I amended, and he set the spoon down for a moment.

“That depends. Is it working?”

He looked oddly serious – no hint of amusement or even a smirk.

Just steady brown eyes, with slight smudges underneath. Not enough to indicate he hadn’t been sleeping well recently, just enough to hint that he’d seen a fair bit more of life than the thirty-five or so years he appeared to be.

“Possibly,” I said, as noncommittally as possible.

“That’s not an answer…” he chided, and I reached across to poke my finger into the fluffy whipped cream and nuts topping his parfait.

“Hey!”

I stuck my finger in my mouth and sampled the flavor. “Mmm. Not bad.”

Those sharp brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then his hand darted out and stole my spoon, nipping a bit of sorbet from the dish in front of me.

“Really?” I said, exasperated as he popped the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh, the mango’s good,” he said, a hint of malicious cheer in his voice as he handed my spoon back to me.

I gave him a look.

“Wanna try some of the hot fudge?” he coaxed, holding out a spoonful temptingly.

…no matter how you look at it, this is definitely only something couples do, right?

If I let him spoon-feed me bites of his parfait, I was fairly sure I was going to turn into a puddle right then and there.

“…no thanks.” I said hesitantly, digging my spoon back into the sorbet and taking another bite.

Oh. Right. This was in his mouth a few seconds ago.

At this rate, the waitress was going to have to come back and mop me off the floor.

“More for me, then,” he said, finally focusing on the melting ice cream concoction in front of him instead of me.

The sorbet was good, but I felt more self-conscious than I wanted.

“So I’m thinkin’ you need a really high SPF, like 50. They have that stuff in the skincare area. It’s pretty good, and it means you won’t get sunburned. We can just ask somebody at a skincare shop, they’ll know what you need.”

“There’s a shop for everything here,” I commented, and he grinned.

“Se ya na - yer’right. Don’t come here often?”

I shrugged. “Since I’m not a shinigami, there isn’t much reason to. Nobles might occasionally slip off to the World of the Living to have fun, but nobody outside of the higher ranked families is going to have their own personal senkaimon to travel back and forth.”

“Lisa’s been bringin’ a lot of stuff over, but I guess most of its books and magazines, not cosmetics,” Hirako said wryly. “I don’t think that kinda thing is your cup of tea… though I’m not judging if it is.”

“I’ve heard about that,” I admitted, trying and failing not to turn several shades of pink.

He chuckled and reached over to tap my nose with one finger. “You’re blushin’.”

“Am not.”

“All right, fine,” he teased. “You’re perfectly composed.”

“You’re right,” I said firmly, taking my embarrassment out on the sorbet in front of me as I plowed my spoon through it aimlessly.

“Nah, say it properly,” Hirako said, ignoring his ice cream in favor of watching me. “Yer’right.”

“Huh?”

“Yer’right.”

“You’re right?” I repeated, puzzled.

“Chau – yer’wrong,” he scolded, and I started laughing.

“Why are you trying to corrupt my speech, Hirako?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “It’d be cute, you talkin’ Kansai-ben.”

“Would not,” I sputtered.

“Very cute,” he said, clearly amused at my dismay.

“Y-yer’wrong.”

The sudden Kansai accent earned a delighted smile from him. “So you are quick at picking up things like that. You’re just resisting me.”

“You’re right,” I said sweetly, stabbing the sorbet as my cheeks burned.

“No, no,” he griped, still smiling. “You’re just winding me up, now.”

“Yer’right,” I said smugly, and he started laughing.

“I was right,” Hirako said finally, spoon wandering over to steal a bit more sorbet. “It’s cute. But the way you talk normally is cute too.”

“I appreciate a man willing to lie on my behalf,” I retorted, and he sighed.

“What’s it gonna take for you to take me seriously?” he asked.

“For starters, you could be serious,” I said.

“I’m always serious.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He sighed again. “Fair enough. Here, you done?”

I nodded, and he collected the dishes from the table, taking them back to the counter’s bussing area for us.

Oh, it’s like those food stalls back home versus a fancy restaurant. You put your own stuff away here.

“All right,” Hirako said, returning. “Let’s go shopping!”

It was my turn to sigh.

Well, at least I don’t have to come out of the dressing room…

I wanted to cry.

It hadn’t been too bad, not at first. Picking up sunblock had just been a matter of finding someone to tell me what I needed, like Hirako had said. Finding a swimsuit shop had also been easy, and I’d beelined for the most conservative coverage I could get, hoping it would magically be enough to avoid total mortification.

It wasn’t.

There were at least fifteen different swimsuits scattered about the tiny dressing room, and none of them were what I’d call flattering.

Too low-cut. My breasts are gonna fall out!

Toss.

Who the hell decided women needed ruching over their STOMACH?!?

Toss.

This is too frilly. It didn’t look bad on the rack, but ugh, no. I’m not sixteen, and I’m not trying to look sixteen.

Toss.

Toss.

Toss.

About 12 attempts later, I could practically feel the tears trying to start running down my face in humiliation.

“Hey…”

Hirako’s voice from outside the dressing room made me flinch. “Yeah, what is it?” I managed, trying to sound normal.

“How’s it going?”

I want to never see myself in a mirror again, thanks.

“…fine.”

“Doesn’t sound fine.”

“…I don’t really have to swim,” I said quietly. “I’m fine with just wading along the shore.”

Footsteps moved closer. “Can I see?”

“No!” I said hastily, my voice cracking a bit with anxiety. “I’m not dressed right now.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, just nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he said gently. “Talk to me.”

“…Nothing fits right.”

“You want me to get a bigger size?”

“No, I want my bust to shrink,” I said flatly. “I told you. Wetsuit body. I’m chubby, Hirako. Not like ‘haha I should lose ten pounds’ kind, either.”

“Hang on,” he said. “Toss something that fits over the door.”

“…why?”

“Do you trust me?”

I hesitated, then grabbed the least awful of all of them and tossed it over.

“Okay. I’m going to get a salesclerk.”

I wanted to tell him not to bother, but I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t start bawling, and that would have been even more humiliating.

I started pulling my own clothing back on and rehanging the rejects, and by the time I’d emerged with a pile and some of my self-control back, Hirako had returned with a few things draped over one arm.

“The saleslady was very helpful,” he said cheerfully. “Try this on. There’s a coverup, too.”

“Hirako…”

He moved past me, hung it up in the dressing room, and returned to scoop the pile of rejects out of my arms. “Let’s get rid of these. I really didn’t drag you along with me to make you sad, y’know.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice wavering a bit.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m fine, and I’m not ruining your day off on something this trivial,” I said too cheerfully, and he abruptly dumped the swimsuits into a nearby chair.

“Ah—”

“It’s fine, she gets paid to hang up clothes,” Hirako said, turning to plant his hands on my shoulders, fingers squeezing gently. “You. Cut it out.”

“What?” I asked, bewildered.

He reached out and flicked me on the forehead. We were roughly the same height, so he didn’t have far to reach.

“Ow.”

“I’ve watched friends of mine nearly die,” he said, bringing his face closer to mind, brown eyes blazing for a moment with intensity. “You’re kidding yourself if you think this is going to make me have a bad day.”

“…Oh.”

“Oh,” he said, gently mocking me. “Seriously, cut it out. I like spending time with you. Why would I lie about that?”

“Come on, you lie about everything that isn’t important,” I said, exasperated. “If it’s funnier to make up something absurd, you’ll do that, too.”

He held up a finger. “Ah, but you just said it. I don’t lie when it’s important or when it’s not funny.”

I didn’t say anything.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” he asked, hand drifting to my shoulder again.

“You crack jokes about every pretty girl you ever meet being ‘the love of your life’,” I muttered. “For starters.”

He considered that for a moment. “Actually? No. Not everyone.”

“Well, sure, Lisa mentioned you didn’t call Hiyori that,” I said.

“Hiyori’s a kid,” he replied, exasperated. “I’m not some creep that hits on kids. And I’ve never said it about you, either.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I’m not pretty like Nanao, or cute like your Vice-Captain, or sexy like Matsumoto. I’m just me. And I don’t look good in swimsuits.”

“You’re lovely,” Hirako said quietly. There was no hint of sarcasm to the words. “And I adore you.”

I froze, trying to process the words and how close he’d gotten. His cologne smelled faintly of florals and sweetness, but strong, deep undernotes of eucalyptus and sandalwood made it thoroughly masculine.

“I don’t joke about things that matter to me,” he said, one hand coming up to rest against my cheek. His thumb swept gently beneath one eye, then the other before pulling away from me, tears glistening on his fingertips. “Ever. Understand?”

The words were so stuck in my throat I could barely get air past them. I opened my mouth, closed it again, and must’ve looked utterly panicked, because he pulled me into a hug.

I was too tall to fit neatly under his chin, so he settled for tucking his head against mine, blonde strands of his hair tickling my cheek, fingers digging into my hip and shoulder as he squeezed.

Somehow, not looking him in the eye helped. “…I like you too,” I managed at last, barely audible over the soft classical music playing throughout the shop.

He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him exhale, breath warm against my ear, arms tightening around me for a moment before letting go and stepping back.

“Hirako?”

“Shinji,” he corrected me absently. “And if I kiss you in here, I’ll get arrested for public indecency. Hurry up and try on that swimsuit, so we can find the right one and get out of here, okay?”

There was a low rasp to the drawl that hadn’t been there before, and I didn’t dare look him in the eyes. Just imagining the expression on his face was enough to send a pleasurable shudder through me.

I hesitated.

“Don’t make me come in there,” he said, and a quick glance at his expression suggested he was only half-kidding.

“…I-I’m going,” I stammered, backing into the dressing room hastily and shutting the door.

You’re way too old to be acting like a lovestruck teenager.

Well, I was, but remembering his cologne and the way he’d hugged me was making me giddy anyways, sensible adulthood be damned.

I shed my clothes again, pulling on the new swimsuit. It was black, and I vaguely remembered ignoring it on my first pass – it was a demure one-piece, but it had cutouts across my ample cleavage, down both sides, and several bits in back that made it look as though it was a basket weave.

However, I’d failed to realize all the cutouts had a filmy black netting across them – sheer, but dark enough to tone down the flashes of skin on display.

As a bonus, the cutouts on the side actually made me look slimmer, and the curved cutout across the top flashed enough to distract anyone from side-eyeing my love handles.

I didn’t feel entirely confident, but I didn’t feel like bawling, either. I’d take what triumphs I could, today.

“I think you’re right, this one is good,” I said.

“Eh, the saleslady picked it out. I can’t take any credit,” he replied. “C’mon, let’s see.”

I opened the door, eyes glued to his face. The back area of the shop remained thankfully empty of anyone else to witness my potential embarrassment.

Hirako’s eyes narrowed slightly, sweeping down my figure and lingering on the subtle cleavage while I scrunched my toes into the carpeting, self-conscious.

“…that one,” he agreed, still studying me.

“It’s a little—”

“It’s perfect,” he said, cutting me off. “I’m buying it.”

“Oh, no – you don’t have to—”

“I’m buying it,” he repeated firmly, eyes still locked on my chest.

“I’m pretty sure it’s expensive…”

“Worth every single yen,” he said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

I sighed. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

He twirled a finger. “Turn?”

I spun, quickly.

“No, no, no,” he said, exasperated. “Slowly. Give a guy a chance to enjoy the view, would you?”

“Seriously?”

“Mmm-hmmmmmmmm,” he said, dragging the words out with an unrepentant smirk.

I turned again, fairly certain my blush could have lit the interior of the store by itself.

He didn’t speak until I was facing him again, then sighed, slowly.

“There’s really only one thing wrong with that swimsuit,” he said gravely.

“…really?”

“I can’t let anybody else see you in that” Hirako continued, his expression dead serious. “You’ll have guys all over you. I’m not a ‘sharing’ kinda guy.”

I laughed. “Come on.”

“You think I’m joking again?” he teased, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe?”

“Definitely not,” he drawled, grinning. “That’s a killer view.”

“The front or the back?” I asked dryly.

“Oh, the front, absolutely. But both are very nice,” he said, adding a little bit of a leer to the compliment.

“Ah. A man of culture, huh?”

“Damn straight,” he said smugly. “Can’t go sharing that view with just anyone.”

“You’re biased,” I said dryly, but the compliment felt nice.

“I had my vision checked at Squad 4 three weeks ago, sunshine,” he fired back with a smirk. “My vision’s perfect…” he leaned in, voice lowered, “…just like your boobs.”

I giggle-snorted, then clamped a hand over my face, horrified, but Hirako just started laughing.

“That’s better. You have the prettiest eyes when you’re grinnin’. Hey, try on that cover-up, too.”

I fished the other garment out of the dressing room and slipped it on. It was the same floaty, silky black mesh as the cutouts, but with black lace strategically covering some areas. It tied with a simple black ribbon under my bustline, but it was split into four panels from the hips down to my ankles, meaning the slightest breeze would expose a tantalizing amount of leg.

“Yep. That too,” Hirako said immediately. “Damn. I’m leavin’ this shop a very nice review.”

“I can buy this piece, at least,” I offered, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Nope. Not today. Not on a date.”

I blinked, startled. “This is a date now?”

“I don’t see why not,” he said easily. “We like each other. We had ice cream. We found you an outfit. We’re gonna go see a pretty sunset. Sounds like a nice date t’me.”

“You,” I said with mock severity, “are entirely too smooth for your own good, Mister Hirako.”

His hand darted out and smacked my ass, and I strangled a surprised yelp, worried the saleslady would come check on us.

“W-what was that about?” I sputtered indignantly, but he just shrugged.

“Penalty game. Since you keep forgettin’ my first name, I’m gonna tease you every time you slip up.”

“No. No, there’s no game, because you’re not penalized for anything!”

He shrugged again with a lazy grin. “Better start rememberin’, then.”

I gave him maximum stink-eye. “Shinji.”

“Yes, very good,” he said bemusedly, plopping himself in the chair that wasn’t overflowing with hangers. “I think we’re past formalities, don’t you? Go change and let’s get out of here.”

“Hang on,” I said. “Are you getting anything? You’re not going to swim in what you have on, are you?”

“Oh, I already picked something out,” he said cheerfully. “It’s waiting up front for whenever you’re done, so I can pay for it.”

“I didn’t get to see it,” I protested mildly, and he chuckled.

“It’s too dangerous to show you here. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Dangerous. Really.”

He grinned smugly. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, and then we’d both get kicked outta this shop for being a public nuisance.”

I huffed and rolled my eyes for effect, but I knew there was a fair chance he was right.

I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to react to bare-chested Hirako… I might need to get a picture of that. You know, just to uh, remember today by. Yeah.

My self-delusion and I traipsed back into the dressing room and changed back into street clothes, re-emerging a few minutes later and straightening out my hair and clothes a bit in the large mirror.

Hirako took the filmy, lacy swimwear from me and vanished up front while I took a moment to fix a few stray curls.

By the time I made it up front to the cash register, he was taking the bag from the saleswoman, a girl in her mid-twenties with a cute up-do and a stylish pendant necklace that gave me a conspiratorial wink and a professional smile.

“Come back again! Thanks so much for your business!” she said, and I had a momentary pang of regret, recalling how much bubbly energy I’d had at the same age.

We stepped back outside into the sticky heat, but it was slightly more bearable now that I’d cooled off.

“Okay, fess up,” I said, before he could derail us again.

“What’s up?”

“Why did you really want to go to the beach?” I asked, fixing him with a stern look. “And don’t say it was too hot. We haven’t even gotten there yet!”

“Well, we needed to get you a swimsuit first,” he said innocently.

“Uh-huh. And?”

“And since I paid for it and have the receipt, I now have your lingerie sizes noted down,” he said smugly. “For future reference.”

My jaw dropped.

“The bus stop should be somewhere around here,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just casually destroyed my ability to form words. “Want to head there now? To the beach, I mean. Or did you need to do anything else here?”

I shook my head.

“No? No to the beach?”

“Hira-Shinji,” I managed to correct myself just in time.

“Oooh, close one. I’ll let you off the hook for good behavior.”

“For future reference,” I repeated.

“What, you want me to buy the wrong size?” Hirako asked. “That’s no good. It won’t look as nice if the fit’s off, and it won’t be comfortable, right?”

I fixed him with an exasperated stare. “You keep saying completely reasonable things, but you’re totally crazy.”

“Rude!” he protested, grinning. “I know exactly what I’m doin’; I’ll have you know.”

“Should I be worried?” I asked dryly.

“No,” he replied, tucking my arm under his, grin softening to an almost bashful smile. “Never. Not with me, sunshine.”

By the time the bus pulled up at some place Hirako called Nishikinohama Beach Park, the sun was already starting to sink back towards the horizon. There were a fair number of people that had gotten the same idea and were wandering the beach, catching a few last rays, or chasing shrieking kids as the surf tugged at their legs.

He grabbed a few items from the shopping bag, and we split up to change in the facilities.

I felt a bit self-conscious, leaving everything in the locker while the airy gauze and lace fluttered about my ankles, but it did feel cooler, and walking in the surf sounded nice. I slipped on the beach sandals he’d thoughtfully added to the ensemble, applied lotion, and stepped outside.

“Yep. You made a good decision,” Hirako said, coming over and pulling off a pair of sunglasses. He’d changed into beach sandals himself, with black trunks, a long necklace that hung to the middle of his chest, and a black, knee-length coverup of light cotton with intricate patterns etched in white. He hadn’t bothered with any buttons, the loose lines of the outfit accentuating his thin, lean body.

“So did you,” I said honestly, trying not to stare.

He wasn’t the sort of guy to sport a rippling six-pack and bulging muscles, but I liked that better. He had more of a runner’s build – trim and clearly someone that took the time to care of himself.

Well, aside from that perpetual slouch.

“I do clean up nicely, don’t I?” he joked, but I could tell the answer mattered to him. The thought of him being secretly self-conscious, just a bit, was oddly endearing.

“You do,” I said softly. “I like that outfit. It suits you.”

A slight hint of red crept up his neck. “Ah, well… I’m apparently the most stylish guy in the Soul Society. That Squad Nine magazine printed it, so it’s gotta be true, right?”

“You can just accept the compliment without having to use humor to deflect it,” I said, smiling to take the sting out of the words. “Just so you know.”

“Ooooh,” he said admiringly. “I’ve been skewered. Does that work on you?”

“Does what work on me?”

“Emotional baggage as an attractant,” Hirako said. “Because if so, I’ve got a sharp pain in my childhood memories…”

“That,” I said, trying not to laugh, “is a terrible pickup line.”

“Which means it works,” he fired back, removing the shirt and offering me a bottle. “On a different note, could you possibly take pity on me and put this on me? I’m not sure I burn quite as badly as you say you do, but I’m still not gonna risk it.”

I swallowed. “Uh, put sunblock on you?”

“Just my back. I can’t reach it,” he said sheepishly. “Though, if you wanted to reapply it elsewhere, I won’t stop you…”

“We’re a little too public for that,” I said sweetly, dumping a glob in my hand and slapping it against his back as unromantically as possible.

“Gah! That’s cold,” he griped.

I started smoothing it over his shoulders. There was more muscle hidden beneath the skin than I’d initially expected, given how lean he was.

“Revenge,” I said cheerfully. “For slapping my butt earlier.”

“Fair enough,” he said wryly. “I’m at your mercy. Get your licks in now, just remember I haven’t done you yet.”

His muscles knotted, tensed, and relaxed as I smoothed the lotion in, my fingers trailing over his spine. It felt nice, touching him.

“I’ve already put mine on,” I said.

“Whaaaaaat.”

“You’re too old to pout, Hirak—ah, Shinji.”

“You might have missed a spot. Can’t be too careful.”

“You just wanted to put your hands all over me,” I teased, and was rewarded by a slight flush creeping up his neck.

“What if I did?” he retorted.

“We’re a little too public for that, don’t you think?”

“…meanin’, if we go somewhere less public, you wouldn’t mind?” he drawled, a slight rasp to the r’s as his accent roughened.

Well, that backfired. I was pretty sure I was beet red now.

“You know,” I managed, trying to keep my voice steady, “every now and then, it’d be nice to feel like I’m winning one or two of these little exchanges.”

He chuckled, and I could feel the laughter through his body as I rubbed the last of the sunblock in. “From where I stand, you’re winnin’ all of them.”

I impulsively leaned close enough my breath ruffled his hair, murmuring in his ear. “I’d say you’re holding your own…”

It took him a minute to reply, but the flush crept further up his neck, and I could hear the sudden breath he sucked in.

“Now that’s just playin’ dirty,” he complained, but the words lacked any real bite.

I stepped away reluctantly. “You’re all set.”

He slipped his shirt back on, turning to eye me with a slight glint in his eyes. “You sure you don’t need any more sunblock?”

I weighed the odds of me accidentally making indecent noises in public. “…yep,” I said, my voice wavering a bit. “All good.”

He regarded me with narrowed eyes, then smirked. “I think your face could use a little more.”

My blush got worse. Oh, you bastard. “No, I definitely remember getting my face.”

“It’s getting sunburned already,” he said, dabbing a bit on one finger before tucking the bottle into a pocket. “You’re bright red.”

“Shut up,” I griped, and he grinned unrepentantly, dotting sunblock across my nose and cheeks, then taking his thumb and smoothing it in.

The slow, gentle strokes his thumb made across my cheek made me bite my lip, his eyes locked on mine until I had to look away.

“I can play dirty too,” he murmured. The low pitch of his voice sent an ache through me.

My nose was last, his index finger rubbing gently down the bridge of my nose before resting on my lips for a moment.

I impulsively nibbled at his fingertip, and he sucked in a breath, eyes suddenly fixed on my mouth.

Neither of us moved for a long moment, then Hirako grabbed my wrist.

“…let’s walk, hmm?” he said, with a forced lightness.

I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I simply followed him across the stretch of sand, dodging kids and the occasional couple, some holding hands, some keeping a careful distance between them to avoid any embarrassing displays of affection in public.

Hirako didn’t seem embarrassed about holding on to me, surprisingly. He wasn’t the sort to care much what other people thought, sure, but there was a general disdain culturally towards too much affection in public, and I’d figured he was probably the same.

His fingers slipped down to grasp my hand, and he pulled us into the shade cast by one of the large buildings that contained restrooms, soda machines, and other necessities.

It wasn’t particularly scenic, but it was out of the throng of beachgoers and relatively quiet. Nobody was interested in sitting in the shade of a building when there was an entire ocean right there.

“Can I be honest?” Hirako said, voice still lowered to almost a murmur.

“…uh huh.”

“I’m not sure I care about the beach, after all.”

I fumbled for a reply, but he was stepping closer, nose practically bumping against mine as he continued.

“We could go see a movie,” he said, thumb slipping up to stroke the soft skin across my wrist. “Lots of people, but dark enough to be a little more private. Or a karaoke booth, if you’d rather get something for dinner without having to deal with other people.”

I swallowed, eyes darting up to meet his.

“Or we could find a hotel somewhere,” Hirako said quietly. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“That’s a totally unfair question,” I murmured back, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Yer’right,” he agreed. “But I’m leavin’ it up to you.”

“…hotel,” I whispered. “Please.”

I’d wanted him so damn long, I didn’t think I could wait another minute without touching him again.

A relieved groan escaped from his throat, and then his lips were brushing mine, kiss deepening as his hands rose to cup my face, fingers tangling in my hair.

Oh, Shinji…

He nibbled my lower lip suggestively, and I whimpered, my hands clutching his shoulders as he nuzzled me, finally letting go with an effort and stepping back.

“Not here, sunshine,” he said, voice hoarse, looking as dazed as I felt.

I simply nodded, still savoring the way his fingers had stroked through my hair.

Hirako – no, Shinji fumbled with his pockets for a moment, eyes still lingering on me, then pulled out his soul pager, dialing in a number and clearing his throat a few times.

“…hey, is this the right number for the super-talented Vice-Captain of Squad Five?” he finally said, sounding almost normal.

I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I could guess well enough based on his reply.

“What do you mean, ‘what now’?  I was just callin’ to let you know I’ll be in late tomorrow.”

Another pause. Shinji looked amused, dragging his teeth across his lower lip as he listened.

“Nope, Captain’s orders. You can still go take off when you usually do, I’ll just work later. Something important’s come up, so I just didn’t want you to be surprised if I wasn’t in tomorrow morning.”

A shorter pause.

“Whaddya mean, ‘pointless’? My orders are never pointless, missy, I use ‘em precisely how I need to. Get back to work. Oh, right. Did you need anything? Anything come up today?”

I swallowed the giggles that threatened to bubble up, and Shinji shot me a long-suffering look.

“Good, good. Thanks, Momo. I appreciate it,” he said. “Oh, if Hiyori calls for any reason, you can just hang up.”

I could make out some rather loud protests and something about politeness.

“What? S’fine. If she’s mad, she’ll just start blowin’ up my soul pager, not yours,” Shinji said patiently. “Anyway, I gotta go. Text if somethin’ comes up you really need me for, like the Seireitei being on fire.”

Another pause.

“Yep. Thanks, Momo. Bye.”

He hung up and started tapping at the phone’s screen.

“Your Vice-Captain is a saint,” I said dryly.

“I’ll remind you of that, if you ever see her in nightmare mode,” he said absently, still tapping away.

I laughed. “There’s no way. Not Hinamori.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Shinji said, amused. “She’s got some steel in her spine, that girl. Which is all the better, after all that crap Aizen put her through.”

He conveniently left out his own suffering at his ex-Vice-Captain’s hands.

You went through a fair amount of crap yourself, you know. Though, that’s like you to worry about other people first.

He would never admit it, but he did.

“There’s a nice place about 15 minutes from here,” he said finally, shoving the phone back in his pocket. “Hotel Kanade. Nothing ritzy, but the ratings are good and the rooms look nice. Sound okay?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy, and he took my hand again.

“Let’s get goin’,” he said, squeezing gently.

There wasn’t much to wonder about with two people in beach clothes checking in for a single night with no luggage to speak of, but the hotel staff were apparently used to it.

Huh. In the Seireitei, it’d be a lot more scandalous…

Well, the World of the Living was quite a bit more modern. That wasn’t all bad.

Shinji took the flat piece of plastic the clerk handed him and the receipt, then headed up the nearby stairs with me following after him.

“Is that like a soul ticket?” I asked, curious.

“This? Yer’wrong, but it’s kinda similar. It’s a key card. Gives us access to our room.”

“They make keys look like that here?”

“It’s got little electronic things in it that tell the door to open,” Shinji said. “At least, I think that’s how it works. I don’t think I ever bothered to wonder about it before.”

“It’s different, this place,” I said.

“It is, but I don’t hate it, actually,” he replied. “Maybe I’m biased, since I spent so much time in the World of the Living, but it’s lively and interesting and nothing stays the same for too long. I never minded those parts of it.”

“This isn’t Tokyo, right?” I asked. “The accents sound like yours, when people have them.”

He grinned. “That’s true! I should have mentioned it sooner. Welcome to Osaka.”

“Why here, for today?”

He hesitated, shoving the plastic card into a doorway. There was a soft beep and a click, and he pushed the door open, letting me enter first. “…it’s where I woke up, after we fled the Soul Society. We figured Tokyo was too obvious, and Shihoin had more hideaways and resources down south, so that’s where we spent the first thirty years or so. We moved around a fair bit, but it was mostly Osaka until the war started. Then it was the countryside for a while, since the cities were too lucrative as bombing targets. Spent some time in Hokkaido. That place was way too cold for me.”

The door shut after him, and he set the bag full of our clothes on the small table by the balcony. “After the war, once they started rebuilding, we finally settled back in Tokyo. Easier to hide, with all the people.”

“But Osaka is special,” I said.

“Yeah,” he admitted, perching on the end of the bed. “Actually, it’s where the jazz scene took off in the 1920s. Been hooked on it ever since.”

I tried to think of something to say and failed, starting to feel a bit nervous.

“Here, c’mere,” he said, patting the bed. “Sit down. We’ve got the room till tomorrow morning, there’s no rush. We can always go out later and get something from a konbini if we’re really hungry and everything’s closed.”

“What’s a konbini?” I asked absently, sitting down next to him.

“Oh, that’s just short for ‘convenience store’. It’s a place with drinks, snacks, hot food, banking, supplies, that kind of thing. It’s a little more expensive than just going to a grocery store, but they’re open around the clock and it’s just easier to grab something there sometimes.” He grinned ruefully. “Every time it was Mashiro’s turn to cook, she usually ended up buying us bento from there instead.”

I leaned against his shoulder a bit, and he slipped an arm around my waist. “Do you cook?”

“Not very well,” he said. “Kensei’s better at it, but he uses way too much seasoning. Everything is super manly with him, so the flavors aren’t very subtle.” He turned his head a bit, murmuring into my ear. “Do you cook?”

“I like cooking,” I said softly. “Making something for people is nice.”

“I wouldn’t mind eating something you made some time,” he said, stroking the small of my back slowly.

“What do you like?”

“I have a massive sweet tooth,” he admitted. “In case the parfait earlier didn’t tip you off. But I like salty and savory things too.”

“Spicy?”

“Well… a little. Maybe not enough to make my ancestors hate me,” he said, chuckling.

I pouted. “That’s the entire point! If it’s not spicy enough to cause your ancestors at least a little consternation, it’s not hot enough.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people,” he said, bemused. “Remind me not to steal bites of anything you’re eating that isn’t dessert.”

I snickered, trailing a finger down his thigh to where the swim trunks stopped. His legs had a little hair on them, but he wasn’t a particularly hirsute guy. His chest was smooth and bare, and he didn’t seem like the sort to have much stubble, either.

“You don’t have to stop,” he teased, nipping my ear gently.

“Well, neither of us have much to take off,” I said, blushing a bit.

“No hurry,” he said.

“Changing your mind?”

“Not a chance, sunshine,” he said softly. “But I’ve wanted you this long, thirty more minutes isn’t gonna kill me. I want you to enjoy this, y’know.”

“…I really like you,” I said, my voice equally soft. “I thought if I was too honest about it, you’d just tell me I was misunderstanding.”

His eyes slid shut for a moment. “Nope. Never.”

“I guess I should have said something sooner,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Nah, not your fault. I wasn’t exactly being clear about what I wanted, was I?” he replied, sounding regretful. “Look, I… I’ve done this before. I’m not great at this.”

“…this? What do you mean?”

He sighed at my confusion. “Look, we’re both old enough this isn’t exactly our first relationship, right?”

“Uh huh,” I said unconvincingly. “Totally. Yep.”

“…wait, really?”

I sighed. “Shinji, you may have picked up on this, but I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.”

He snorted. “Have you met me?”

“Yes,” I said, amused. “And I enjoyed the experience.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Ah, but not everyone does.”

“Well, same with me,” I said. “I was always too busy, there was always another crisis to deal with, my family is a disaster… I mean, hell, I didn’t even really know who I wanted to be until I was probably about 300 or so…”

He grinned. “Boy, that sounds familiar.”

“You too?”

“I think everybody has some variant of that crap going on, honestly. I don’t think I changed that much after what happened with Aizen, but I did change some. I miss at least… oh, two or three of the people I used to be, I guess. But I’m not the same anymore.”

He shrugged. “I’m an independent kinda person, but that’s not exactly seen as a strength around here. So, I did have a relationship once, but it ended pretty sour. I wouldn’t compromise for her, she didn’t want to for me… eh, you get the picture.”

“I’ve liked a few guys,” I admitted. “Never went anywhere, though.”

He nuzzled my hair. “Good. More for me.”

I sighed. “There was the guy that I told my friend I liked… three months later, they were dating.”

“You need a new friend,” he murmured, his breath tickling my skin.

“There was another guy that was always fun to be around, and he was really nice to me, but he ended up dating another friend of mine.”

“I’m noticing a theme here.”

I gave him a rueful smile. “Then there was the guy that took me on a nice, romantic dinner date—”

“—well, he showed more sense than the other two,” Shinji commented dryly. “How’d he fuck up?”

I chuckled in spite of myself. “He, ah… he might have spent most of dinner talking about how much he wanted to be my friend’s boyfriend.”

“…friend number three?”

“Yeah.”

“Please tell me the food was at least good,” Shinji said. “Please.”

“Oh, it was. It’s kinda funny now, but I definitely went home and bawled.”

“I think that was the only thing you could’ve done, and I feel deeply fortunate you’ve apparently spent your life surrounded by idiots,” he said, nibbling down the ridge of my ear between words. “Nice of them to leave you for me to enjoy.”

I laughed. “Well, same to your girlfriend, apparently.”

“I think we were both too young to have worked it out, if I’m bein’ honest. And gettin’ stuck in the World of the Living for a century puts a crimp in your social life anyway.” He slipped a hand down to untie the ribbon to my coverup.

“This is different?” I asked, slipping out of the lacy fabric, and he grinned, almost bashfully.

“Well, I’d like it to be. And I want you more than I want to have everything my way, if that makes sense.”

I scooted back on the bed, propping myself up on one elbow. “Same here,” I said softly.

He followed suit, draping an arm over my waist and stroking the thin fabric of one cutout, fingers warm against my skin. “I also like you a lot more than her.”

“Good,” I teased, trailing fingers up his chest to stroke his cheek. He felt nice. “Hopefully that’s still the case by tomorrow morning?”

His brown eyes glinted, warm and smoking with heat. “Sunshine, we could literally go home right now and this would already be ten times better.”

“Oh?”

“Promise,” he said, pulling me down next to him to cuddle me against his chest. His heart was beating faster than I’d expected.

Maybe he’s a little flustered too.

“You smell nice,” I murmured, nuzzling his chest.

He started pressing slow, urgent kisses to the top of my head, his hands wandering down my hips to stroke bare flesh.

“Shinji,” I whispered.

“Nn?”

Something started beeping.

I blinked, confused, and he made a thoroughly disgruntled noise before sitting up, flailing over to the table where he’d set his soul pager. “Sorry. Might be my day off, but I still have to answer the damn thing in case it’s an emergency…”

“It’s okay,” I said, blushing.

“Not with me it ain’t,” he muttered before answering. “Yeah, this is Hirako… huh? No. No, I’m not. I’m not anywhere near there right now. Uh huh. Bye.”

He dumped it back on the table.

I stifled a giggle at his expression. “Not an emergency?”

“Maybe to someone, but not to me,” he sighed, slipping off the loose, open beach shirt and sending it after the phone. “Rin doesn’t always get the dispatch coordinates right.”

“One of your squad?”

“Nah, Squad Twelve does the dispatches. And that,” he said severely, “is more than I ever wanna discuss Kurotsuchi’s problems on my day off. Especially with you here.”

“I thought you said thirty more minutes wouldn’t matter,” I said sweetly, and he fixed me with a mock glare.

“If you keep using my own words against me, I’m gonna start shavin’ minutes off that estimate,” he said, his voice dipping into the lower registers where it did funny things to the butterflies in my stomach.

“Well, hurry up, then,” I teased, starting to feel the urgency as his hands explored the curves in my back.

Shinji’s lips met mine, his thumb nudging my jaw down. The stud in his tongue scraped lightly across my own tongue, and I moaned into the kiss.

He finally pulled away, his breathing ragged, and the tenderness in his expression stole my own breath.

He was cute when he was snarky, sarcastic, leering, bored… but there was no manufactured self-satisfaction or guardedness to his expression now, and he was handsome in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“I like this smile,” I said softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “I want to see it more often.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he caught my hand, turning his head to drop a kiss into my palm.

“All you want,” he promised, letting go of my hand to press another kiss to my nipple, his breath hot through the swimsuit fabric.

I cried out, fingers stroking his jawline and tangling in his hair.

The beeping started up again, insistent, and it took us both a moment to realize what it was.

Shinji swore under his breath, and I started laughing helplessly.

“It’s okay,” I managed. “Seriously. I’m not going anywhere.”

“—motherless son of a – Yes, hello. You’ve reached Shinji Hirako, overworked Captain of Squad Five, and I’m rather busy at the moment. Is this urgent?”

Shinji’s voice was cold, and his expression sent me into another fit of giggles.

“-OU COMPLETE DUMBASS, DID YOU TELL YOUR VICE-CAPTAIN TO HANG UP ON ME?!?”

The voice was female, irate, and I was pretty sure the rooms on either side of ours were hearing it too.

“YOU BRAT,” Shinji roared into his soul pager. “THIS IS FOR EMERGENCIES. EMERGENCIES. IS THIS AN EMERGENCY?!?”

“I’LL MAKE IT AN EMERGENCY, YOU BALD DUMBAS—”

Shinji stabbed his finger down viciously on the disconnect button, then tapped a few more things.

“I can’t turn it off,” he muttered. “They’d probably think I was goin’ rogue or somethin’ and send some nosy bastard in the Onmitsukido here. But I’m muting this damn thing, and if it makes any more noise it’s getting flushed down the toilet, consequences be damned.”

I wiped my eyes, still laughing. “Shinji, it’s fine. What if she really needs something?”

“Then she’s got six other Visoreds to call on, and she can start learnin’ not to insult people she needs help from,” he retorted, clearly exasperated. “Besides, if she really needed help, she wouldn’t be wastin’ time insultin’ me. She’s just calling to yak. It can wait.”

I sat up. “Well, help me get this off before they figure out how to remotely turn the sound back on.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“You’re a captain,” I pointed out reasonably. “Odds are pretty good this’ll happen again – maybe not today, but eventually. So, as long as you come back and finish what you started, I’ll forgive you.”

He smiled slightly. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Well, that makes me feel slightly better about the dozens of angry text messages I’m going to come back to in the morning,” he said ruefully, then kissed me again, hands tugging the straps down, and stroking my shoulders.

Shinji lowered me back down against the sheets, slowly peeling the silky fabric down, trailing kisses down my neck and nuzzling one of my breasts.

I couldn’t stifle the whimper, and he chuckled in reply.

“You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” he said tenderly, nibbling a bit, and I flinched.

“Nng, not… no teeth there, please.”

“No good?” he asked, stopping and pressing a kiss to the spot instead.

“Sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s a little too sensitive for that,” I said, embarrassed.

“That’s not something to apologize for,” he scolded gently, rubbing his thumb across my nipple instead. “Better?”

“Yes…”

He gave me a delighted smile and kissed me again, urgently, teasing my nipples as I tangled my fingers in his hair again.

“Shinji,” I managed between kisses, his hands pushing the swimwear around my hips.

“What’s up?” he asked breathlessly, voice husky.

“Where do you like being touched?” I asked softly. It was a bit embarrassing, but I felt so good, and I wanted him to feel good too…

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious…” he teased, getting a giggle from me.

“Not that. Where else?”

He reached up and tapped where his ear and jawline met. “Not gonna lie, there’s something nice about right there for me…”

I nuzzled the spot, then nipped gently at his earlobe, listening to his breath catch.

“You’re killin’ me..” he said plaintively, burying his face against the curve of my neck and leaving a few gentle bite marks before kissing each one.

It hurt a bit, but the pleasure drowned out the ache.

His skin brushed against my stomach, warm and firm, and I tugged at his waistband, trying to slide the trunks down.

Shinji rose long enough to kick them off, his shaft bobbing slightly as he moved. He wasn’t completely erect yet, but he was definitely getting there.

I peeled the rest of the swimsuit off, and Shinji snagged it from me, tossing it to join his swim trunks somewhere on the floor.

“Shinji…”

“I don’t wanna wait anymore,” he whispered, both arms propping himself up. “You?”

I shook my head wordlessly, and he groaned in relief, kissing me again and stroking my tongue.

The ache between my legs felt unbearable, and I let one hand wander down his side, stroking his hip, then the soft thatch of hair between his legs and that smooth curve of flesh.

Shinji hissed; air sucked in abruptly at my wandering fingers. “…run your thumb over the tip?” he asked desperately.

I felt along his length, then gently rubbed my thumb in circles over his head, earning a choked-off moan.

He caught my wrist, pulling my hand away. “Nngh… not that much, or I’m gonna lose it, sunshine,” he managed.

“Sorry.”

“Nope. Stop it,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Felt too good, that’s all. It’s pretty tricky to finish at the same time, but I’d like to make sure I’m not gettin’ too far ahead of you…”

I nipped at his lower lip in reply, and he stroked a hand down the side of my face, pulling back just enough to rub the bridge of his nose against mine. His eyes were affectionately studying mine, brown pupils flecked with gold, and this close I could see a few light freckles dusting his skin.

I nuzzled him back shyly, giggling as he started training kissed down my jaw again.

“Somethin’ funny?” he mock-growled, not letting up.

“Your breath tickles,” I said helplessly, and he pressed a final kiss between by breasts.

“You’re in trouble if you think that’s the worst I can do,” he murmured, amused, and I gasped as something warm and wet trailed over a nipple, ending with a hard metal nub that scraped lightly against the sensitive skin.

“Is that why you got your tongue pierced?” I asked, half the words tumbling out as ragged moans, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Not telling,” he said wickedly, one hand stroking the soft curve of my stomach before wandering lower, fingers slipping between my legs.

I made a surprised whimper. His fingers skidded in the slick damp, then slipped inside of me gently for a moment before pulling out again.

“It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “Just makin’ sure you were ready, that’s all.”

Ready for what? I wanted to ask, but then he was lifting my hips, fingers digging into my flesh gently as he moved closer, and then I moaned as I felt him slide into me.

Oh. Oh, that wasn’t his fingers.

“Okay?” he asked softly, not moving. “Too much?”

“More,” I said desperately, reaching up for him, and his eyes darkened as he moved his hips a bit more, lowering himself down to press his body to mine.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as he started moving, slow thrusts of his hips that teased, lips that sought mine out again for more kisses.

“Right there?”

“Yes,” I panted, trying to move my own hips to follow him.

His fingers stroked between my legs again, flirting with the most sensitive part of my clit in time with his hips, shaft moving in and out of me with increasing ease as my body relaxed.

He chuckled, stopping for a moment to grind his hips against me, groaning my name as the urgency built.

“Shinji,” I managed breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“Stop worrying if you’re going to hurt me,” I said, half-dazed from the sensation of his cock moving inside of me, of his fingers messily stroking me.

He hesitated, and I sank my teeth gently into his shoulder, urging him on.

His hips slammed home, burying his cock in me, and I screamed in relief, nails digging into his skin as we moved together, all restraint lost.

There was no sense of time, or anything else. Just the smooth warmth of his skin, the fierce urgency of his mouth claiming mine, and blonde, silky hair falling past his cheeks to frame our faces and tickle against my ears.

One of his fingers nudged a bit further, brushing against a new spot, and I abruptly saw white, everything soaring and tumbling and tipping me over the edge with it, crying out his name in desperate gasps of air.

He murmured something – my name? – sounding as though he was proud of me, but it was all noise, and I was drowning in it, clinging to him until my body finally shuddered to a slow, reluctant halt.

The ache was still there, but it had eased.

Shinji dropped a kiss on my forehead, looking pleased with himself. “Easy, sweetheart. It’s pretty overwhelming the first time, huh?”

I tried to find a response, but I wasn’t sure I knew how to form words at the moment, so I simply nodded, dazed.

“I’m going to finish, okay?” he said tenderly. “Won’t be hard. You feel so good. You’re perfect.”

I managed another nod and kissed him, and he began moving his hips again – slowly at first, since my body had tightened around him, then faster as I relaxed again.

The only warning I had was a slight tightening of his fingers on my hips, and then he was arching against me, hips locked against mine as he writhed, my name and several curses leaking from between gritted teeth, head tipped back as strands of fine blonde hair stuck to the sweat on his neck.

I reached up to stroke the hair out of his face, feeling him pouring himself into me as he moaned a last curse, finally meeting my eyes again, chest heaving as he panted.

“Why did we wait this long?” he finally said, voice hoarse. He pulled out slowly, then collapsed on his side next to me, one arm snaking around my waist to pull me closer. “Damn.”

“Mm.”

He started pressing kisses to my cheeks and eyelids, and I nuzzled him back, still captivated by how attractive his eyelashes were.

I liked every single thing I saw, and the almost wondering look in his eyes made me suspect Shinji felt the same way I did.

“I should have asked you out months ago,” he said, a touch of regret in his voice.

“This is okay,” I said softly.

“Better than okay,” he agreed, tucking me into the curve of his arm possessively. “Now… what should we do with the rest of the evening?”

I snickered quietly as he kissed my temple, lips wandering down to tug suggestively at an earlobe. “I’m sure you can think of some things, Mr. Hirako.”

He raised an eyebrow, and I yelped at the sudden sting on my rear.

“Shinji!”

“Yer’right,” he smirked. “Better remember it, sunshine.”

You have now reached the end of Side A! Please turn the record over…