Shinji 😉 And Kensei For The How Hot Is That Character Ask Game!

Sinful Office feat. Kenpachi Zaraki ఌ

warning: smut, explicit content & language, 18+mdni

Here you find yourself in the same situation again. Bended over on the desk by your husband Kenpachi in his Office. You bit down into your own hand to not be too loud, scared the other people of the division would hear you. But you knew it was pointless. Kenpachi rammed his fat hard cock into your wet squelching cunt in and out again. The desk cracked under the massive and rough thrusts of his hips, slamming into you like the wild primal animal he is.

,,Don’t hold back Baby, i wanna hear your beautiful moans. And let everyone hear how good i fuck you.‘‘ Kenpachi growled with a cocky smirk. As you moaned loudly without any filter, he chuckles in satisfaction. ,,That’s a good girl. Let em hear you. Let em know how filthy my little wifey is.‘‘

His big calloused hands grabbed your ass harshly, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh on the verge of bruising. His Cock was ramming your cunt without any fucking mercy, stuffing your little hole completely full. So full, you could feel his cock in your cute little belly, that’s how big he is. One Hand comes up to tangle firmly into your hair, exposing your neck to him. He leans down growling hotly into your ear, leaving wet kisses and licks on your sweaty skin. He slammed his hips even harder against you, you are sure the desk would break at any moment. But you couldn’t care less.

,,God you feel so good kenny… just like that…‘‘ you whimpered and he increased his pace even more. It was almost unbelievable on how rough this man was fucking you. You slammed your ass against his cock, moving greedily & desperately against him. He grinned at the sight and hitted you so deep, making you cry out loudly even the goddamn divisions nearby could hear your moans & cries. Spreading your ass cheeks open, he licks his lips in anticipation and his wet thumb rubs gentle circles on your other sensitive hole. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and Kenpachi gives your ass a hard rough smack.

,,Are you ready for my cum Baby? Gonna fill you up really good..‘‘ he grunted and pulls you by your hips roughly against his pulsating cock. With a loud deep groan his sperm shots deep into your womb, stuffing you full completely. Sweat dripping his forehead down as his hand comes up to your sensitive clit, rubbing it and making you squirt all over his dick, earning a loud sinful moan from you.

,,That’s it baby… cum all over my cock… god that looks so good our release all mixed up together…‘‘ he growls against your neck as he squeezes your tits and chuckled devilishly. Panting and catching your breath your head lays on the desk completely and utterly satisfied and spent. As he pulled his cock out of your aching cunt, his cum drips out of your hole down your thighs but he didn’t waste any time pushing his thick fingers into your pussy. He wanted to make sure every drop would reach you and stays into your pussy.

,,Now now… you don’t wanna waste my good cum baby do you? Now be a good girl and get on your knees‘‘ he said grinning at you. You were in for a long night, no wonder everyone thought of you as a slut but you were just a good little wifey.

Kenpachissluut ❤️

comments & reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

My confession... someone tell Shinji to fuck me in front of the bathroom mirror already😫

nsfw. Smut. Not sure if you read this post but i got you 🩷

“Ye like that don't ya? Watchin’ yer greedy pussy swallow my cock? Hmmm?”, he hummed behind you, barely able to keep his own composure. It was damn hot to have a front row seat to his own fucking session. Shinji knew best how the visuals can mess with your head because he was pretty close to creaming your hole.

You let out some incoherent nonsense, unable to respond between your cascade of orgasms. Watching yourself getting fucked senselessly had you overstimulated to the point of no return.

“What was that, doll? Want a better view?”. And with that ‘misunderstanding’—he grabbed you by the thighs, lifted you off the floor and pulled your legs apart. He continued to hump you from behind, like an animal, balls slapping hard against your cheeks.

“Fuck doll. I needa cum. Too sexy”. He succumb to his own reflection and began shooting his seed.

Lush ribbons of cream filled your holes like an eclair, the excess stuffing spilled out from around the circumference of his girth. He held you close against his chest, warm sweaty bodies sticking together while cum continued to drip from where you two were connected.

“Shit. Babe. I know ya too fucked out but wanna try this again? Upside down this time?”

Shinji didn't last 5 minutes against gravity.

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Kuchiki Byakuya, Hirako Shinji, Kyoraku Shunsui, Ukitake Jushiro

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello, sis! I really, reallly, love your headcanons! Would you like to do a hc about reader who's very insecure about themselves or dealing with self-esteem issues? The characters could be Jushiro, Shunsui, Shinji, and Byakuya. You can add any character you want. I hope you accept it, if it's fine with you. Thank you!🥰

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Thank you for this request, anon. This one felt close to home. Hope it doesn’t sound too personal 😅. But enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When they guide you through your stage of insecurity and low self-esteem (like the sweet lovers they are)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Kuchiki Byakuya

✧ Never one for coddling, but the moment he started noticing your discomfort with yourself, he began paying more attention than you'd realise. He’d catch you looking at your reflection too long with a strange look on your face, like you were trying to find something worth liking. He never brought it up directly, but he observed it in silence.

✧ You’d try to brush off compliments with a shrug or awkward laugh, and he’d tilt his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together. The next time, he’d say something simple and specific, like, “Your posture improved. It suits you.” Not said for flattery, but because it was fact, and he knew you’d believe facts over sweet nothings.

✧ He started saying things in passing like, “That colour enhances your complexion,” or “You speak clearly. People listen.” Always subtle and neutral. But there was no mistaking the intention behind it. He was planting seeds of positivity.

✧ Once, you called yourself useless during training after missing a block. Byakuya didn’t hesitate. “You are not. Do not waste my time by speaking falsehoods.” The way he said it made you stop mid-apology. “Correct yourself and try again,” he added, but it wasn’t harsh. It was almost...grounding.

✧ He’d sit beside you in silence sometimes, just so you wouldn’t be alone with your thoughts too long. You weren’t even sure he noticed the patterns, but then he handed you a book he’d chosen without asking. It had notes in the margins. Thoughtful ones. That kind of intimacy from Byakuya said everything.

✧ When you tried to downplay your efforts during a mission, he would say without looking up, “Mediocrity does not draw my attention. You should be aware of that by now.” And when you glanced up, unsure if it was a rebuke or a compliment, he flicked his eyes to you and added, “I meant it as praise. Accept it.”

✧ He didn’t indulge self-deprecation. “If you insist on belittling yourself, I cannot assist you. I work with those who see their worth, or at least wish to.” And somehow, that stung more than any pity would have.

✧ But he began requesting your opinion more often. Not just to be kind, but because he valued it, and he wanted you to know he did. “You see things others overlook,” he said once, when you pointed out a pattern in enemy movement others missed. “That is not a common trait.”

✧ During a rare evening walk, you admitted in a quiet voice that you didn’t see anything impressive in yourself. He stopped, looked down at you, and simply asked, “Do you believe I waste time?” You frowned, shook your head. “Then accept that I choose to be here. With you. For a reason.”

✧ The way he spoke your name shifted. Firmer, less formal, almost like grounding you. If you drifted into self-hate, he’d say your name like an anchor, a reminder. Not of what you were to him, but who you were.

✧ He started correcting others when they praised you too little. “They completed the task efficiently,” someone would say. Byakuya would reply coolly, “They completed the task brilliantly. Do not diminish that.”

✧ Once, you were picking at your sleeves, eyes low after a particularly bad day, and he said quietly, “You are permitted to falter. But you are not permitted to lie about your value.”

✧ He didn’t flood you with affection or comfort. He redefined your reality through steady correction, unwavering acknowledgement, and making it known that weakness was not something to be ashamed of—but false humility was.

✧ He taught you kido techniques slowly, patiently, never rushing, and never once expressing frustration. “You will learn. You do not lack capacity—only belief.”

✧ When you thanked him too meekly, he looked at you and said flatly, “Do not thank me as though it is undeserved. You earn what I give.”

✧ Sometimes, he sat beside you and just existed there. No speeches. No guidance. Just quiet presence that said, I see you. You’re enough, even when you don’t see it yourself.

Hirako Shinji

✧ Shinji had clocked how you laughed off compliments and made excuses when praised. The kind of thing you thought you were hiding well, but his perceptiveness cut right through the act.

✧ “You’ve got this weird habit of shrinking into yourself when someone says something nice,” he pointed out with that easy grin. “You allergic to compliments or just not used to ‘em?”

✧ He teased you at first, lightly, trying to draw you out of your shell. “C’mon, don’t give me that face. You look like someone just insulted your cooking, and all I said was your outfit suits you.”

✧ He started making you stand in front of the mirror sometimes while standing behind you, arms crossed, saying things like, “Look at that. That’s someone who’s survived Hollow attacks, dealt with Mayuri without losing their sanity, and still has all their limbs. That ain’t nothing.”

✧ Shinji made sure you knew that your mind was sharp. When you doubted your ideas, he’d interrupt mid-thought with, “No, no, don’t walk it back. That was a good plan. Stick with it.” He hated seeing you second-guess yourself and he always called it out.

✧ Once, you called yourself a burden and he turned to you with this incredulous look. “You serious right now? You think I’d drag dead weight around Soul Society for fun? Nah. You’re carrying more than you realise.”

✧ He wasn’t the soft, sappy type—but he did know when to lower his voice and level with you. “I’ve seen a lotta people. Been through too many wars. If you were weak, I’d know it. You’re not.”

✧ When you were spiralling, his approach was to snap you out of it with something sharp. “Stop it. That voice in your head’s lying to you. And you’re letting it. Don’t give it that kind of power.”

✧ Made a habit of pointing out the little things you did well. “You always catch details. I missed that Hollow’s movement pattern, and you didn’t. I owe you a drink.”

✧ When you couldn’t sleep and admitted it was because your brain wouldn’t shut up, he started showing up at night, leaning against your doorframe, tossing you a cushion. “Come sit with me. We’ll talk nonsense until your brain forgets it’s trying to kill you.”

✧ He’d interrupt your self-deprecating thoughts before they even finished. “Don’t even start. I see that look on your face. You’re better than you think, alright? I’m not gonna let you pretend otherwise.”

✧ One day, he found you tearing yourself down over a small mistake. He sat down beside you and said, quieter this time, “You ever notice how hard you are on yourself? Like you think being perfect is the only way you’re worth something?”

✧ “Lemme tell you something. I’ve made way worse mistakes. You don’t see me quitting, do ya? You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be real. And you already are.”

✧ He kept you grounded with humour too. If you got too in your head, he’d say something ridiculous like, “Alright, if you don’t start talking about yourself like you’re at least mildly impressive, I’m gonna list every dumb thing I’ve done until you’re too embarrassed to wallow.”

✧ He gave you nicknames based on your strengths. Called you “Hawk-eyes” after you spotted a Hollow nest no one else did. “See?” he said, grin widening. “Told you your instincts are better than mine.”

✧ Shinji didn’t let people talk down to you either. If someone undercut you in conversation, he’d casually step in with a, “Actually, that was their idea. Don’t take credit where it ain’t due.”

✧ He didn’t believe in fixing you. He believed in reminding you that you weren’t broken. “You’ve got cracks. Big deal. That’s where the good stuff leaks out.”

✧ The way he looked at you changed when you started believing him, even just a little. Like he saw the fog clearing. “There you go,” he said once, after you stood up for yourself. “That’s the version of you I see every day.”

✧ And when you relapsed into old thoughts, because it happened sometimes, he didn’t get annoyed. He just said, “You don’t have to climb the mountain every day. Some days, just standing on the path’s enough.”

✧ Shinji never expected you to love yourself overnight. He was just the constant voice that didn’t waver, didn’t falter, didn’t let you sink too deep. Because if you couldn’t see your worth yet, he’d lend you his eyes till you could.

Kyoraku Shunsui

✧ He had a lazy air about him, sure, but nothing slipped past him when it came to the people he cared about. The way your eyes dropped when someone complimented you, how you’d wave off any praise like it didn’t belong to you—it didn’t sit right with him.

✧ He’d lean over when he caught you doing it again and mutter with a smile, “You really gotta stop treating kindness like it’s a mistake. We say nice things ‘cause they’re true, sweetheart.”

✧ Whenever you tried to minimise your accomplishments, Shunsui didn’t argue. He’d just look at you over the brim of his hat and say, “You know, if you keep brushing off all the good things about you, I’m gonna start thinking you’re talking about someone else.”

✧ He wasn’t confrontational about it, but he was persistent. If you mumbled something self-deprecating, he’d tilt his head and go, “What was that? Didn’t quite catch that nonsense.” And then wink, as if daring you to repeat it. You never did.

✧ Shunsui made sure others didn’t speak over you. If someone tried, he’d casually raise a hand and say, “Hold on, I think what they were saying was far more interesting.” You never knew how to respond when he did that, but he’d just smile and go back to sipping his sake like it was nothing.

✧ You’d find him laying around in your space more often than not. He’d say, “You looked like you could use the company,” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural with him—unpressured, calm, like maybe you didn’t have to pretend to be someone stronger.

✧ “You ever think maybe the way you see yourself ain’t the way the rest of us do?” he asked once, when you were sitting in silence too long, face drawn. “’Cause from where I’m sitting, you’ve got more strength than you give yourself credit for.”

✧ He never made it a lecture. It was always wrapped in comfort, humour, and that soft drawl that made you listen even when you didn’t mean to. “I know how heavy that inner critic can get. I’ve got one too—drinks too much and never shuts up.”

✧ When you apologised too often, he gently waved you off with a lazy smile. “If you apologise one more time for existing, I’m gonna start charging you. You’re allowed to take up space, love.”

✧ Shunsui had this way of reframing your insecurities into something empowering. “So you’re quiet? Means you’re a thinker. You doubt yourself? Means you care enough to get it right.”

✧ He never pressured you to believe him right away. “Takes time to unlearn the bad voices,” he said once, handing you a drink. “Until then, I’ll just keep reminding you that mine’s one of the good ones.”

✧ When you admitted you didn’t see anything worthwhile in yourself, he didn’t respond right away. Just stared at you for a moment, a rare seriousness settling over him. Then he said softly, “You ever wonder why I spend so much time here? It’s not ‘cause I’m bored, you know.”

✧ He kept things light when you needed distraction. If you were spiralling, he’d casually throw his arm over your shoulder and say, “C’mon. Let’s go somewhere you can remember you’re human and not a list of faults.”

✧ But when things got heavy, he didn’t retreat. He sat with you through the storm. No false reassurances, just quiet presence, maybe a hand in yours. Maybe just silence. But always there.

✧ And when you started believing in yourself a little more, you’d find him smiling more too. “See?” he said once, when you held your head a little higher. “Told you. You’re more than enough.”

✧ He never made you feel like a project. He made you feel like a person worth sticking around for, even when you weren’t sure why.

Ukitake Jushiro

✧ He was kind in the way a quiet river is kind—constant, deep, never pushing too hard but always moving. He noticed your insecurities in the smallest things—the way you avoided photos, how you apologised for asking questions, the way you laughed when you were uncomfortable.

✧ He never interrupted you when you put yourself down. He’d wait till you were done, then say, “I think you’re being unfair to someone I care about.” Just soft enough to make it sting in the right way.

✧ Count on him to never be blunt, but he was honest. “You’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be,” he said once. “And if someone else said the things you say to yourself, I’d ask them to leave.”

✧ He’d take your hand during quiet moments and trace little circles over your knuckles while talking about absolutely anything—tea, missions, weather—until your breathing slowed. His way of anchoring you without making a fuss.

✧ When you doubted your value, he reminded you with facts. “You saved that squad last week. You’re here, still standing, when others might’ve fallen. That means something.”

✧ Jushiro never let you dismiss your contributions. “You made a difference. You always do. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t make it any less true.”

✧ If you tried to apologise for not being good enough, he’d cut in gently, “You don’t have to apologise for being human. You’re allowed to have moments. You’re allowed to need reassurance.”

✧ He kept a calm kind of confidence in you. “I believe in your strength,” he said simply one day, when you were doubting your worth. “Even when you can’t.”

✧ When you felt unworthy of his presence, he took your hand, placed it over his chest, and said, “This heart has stood through a thousand years of war. And it still feels lighter when you’re near.”

✧ Has a talent for making you feel safe even in your most vulnerable moments. He never rushed you out of them, just stayed.

✧ He encouraged you through action more than words. He let you lead small team assignments, made space for your decisions, and when things went well, he’d smile and say, “I knew you’d handle it. I trusted you to.”

✧ The day you broke down, whispering that you didn’t see anything worth holding onto in yourself, he held you like you were made of glass and said into your hair, “Then I’ll hold on for the both of us. Until you can.”

✧ He left you notes sometimes. Folded neatly. Just lines like: You did well today. I hope you see that too. Or Your presence makes the Seireitei a better place.

✧ He never told you to stop feeling what you felt. He just helped you carry it. “Let’s carry it together,” he said once, after a particularly rough week. “You shouldn’t have to bear all that weight alone.”

✧ He never allowed your pain to feel like an inconvenience. He made it feel like something sacred—something he wanted to understand, not fix or brush away.

✧ And when you began healing, he noticed. “There’s light in your eyes again,” he said quietly one evening. “I missed that.”

✧ Being with him didn’t make you suddenly love yourself. And it made it harder to hate yourself.

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

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

my man my man my man

😭😭😭

(Not that I always haven't been) but I am hyperfixating on Shinji HEAVY lately

And I just had a couple of martinis there is so much shiz I am about to post about my glorious king YAYYYYYYYY ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I just finished Sunrise on the Reaping and it's pretty hilarious how Suzanne Collins wrote an enemies-to-lovers slow burn BY ACCIDENT and frantically had to backtrack.

🆆🅾🆁🅺🅿🅻🅰🅲🅴 🆂🅲🅰🅽🅳🅰🅻

If they had jobs in the world of the living. - part 1

Warning: SMUT, NO MINORS, MORDERN AU, short imagines/drabbles.

AIZEN, GRIMMJOW, JUSHIRO, KENPACHI, SHUHEI, SZAYELAPORRO

Aizen - University Professor

You had questions. You had many questions. And he always had an answer.

It was way past his office hours, yet he still stayed behind to answer your questions. You were a studious student and he intended to reward your diligence. 

You read out loud the poetic phrases you supposedly were struggling to interpret. 

However, you were now struggling to articulate. 

He had an interesting way to lecture you— bent over his sturdy old desk, his naked hips connected to yours and his movements flowed like poetry itself. Your words spilled out, interrupted with the occasional ‘ahhh’ and ‘mmmmph’.

Eventually, he increased his pace, the sound of skin slapping added to the rhythmic beat. At this point, there were no elegant words flowing out of your mouth and you had become nothing but a moaning mess. 

——————————————————

Grimmjow- Gym Trainer

You hated squats! You couldn't get the form right and it would hurt your knees. And you were growing frustrated.

Grimmjow, your hot personal trainer, had a perfect solution for your squatting problem. 

He stood behind you and guided your motions. “Hinge from the hips. Get that ass touching me”. 

Well, you got the hip hinge part pretty quickly. Your round, soft butt would stick back and out, brushing up against his hand. No wait. His hard abs? His leg? Wait. It was too pointy to be any of those body parts. 

You tried again, movement coming from your hip joints and you stuck out your ass, your stretchy yoga pants accentuating your movements. 

You slowly grind up against him again. You gasped. Did it just grow and twitch? 

“That’s it! Give me 10 of those”, he encouraged. 

The encouragement was enough to keep you going and not question anything. You gave him perfect 10 reps and with each rep, that thing you touched with your butt kept growing. At this point, you know what you were tapping. However, you chose to remain oblivious and innocent. 

After your last rep, you straightened yourself up and squeezed your butt muscles together. You felt the burn in all the right spots! Knees did not hurt. Guess he was a great trainer after all!

“Good job! Now you want to learn how to do some deep sumo squats?”, he asked.

You turned around and noticed the visible tent in his pants. 

“Sure”, you replied. Might as well entertain him and yourself. 

He guided you to the back of the gym and let’s just say you became a master at the sumo squats very quickly. You gave him 3 sets of 20, while he laid on the floor and you used his erect dick as the target for your pussy to sit into.  

“Fuck ya!!! Feel the burn baby! Ya feeling the burn?”

“Yes yes! I feel the burn ugh…i feel the burn!”

——————————————————

Jushiro - School Teacher 

“Mommy always says you're so beautiful”, the little girl said to her preschool teacher that morning. 

Your daughter and her innocent, unfiltered mouth got you into this mess. 

Mess as in— making out with her teacher— in the classroom after a parents teacher meeting. 

You couldn't avoid it. He approached you with what your daughter had said and you couldn't deny it. He was a gorgeous angel who fell from the heavens. And you wanted a taste of that celestial being. 

And a taste you got! His tongue was really dancing around in your mouth. His hips were grinding against yours, your body pinned against his desk.

You were ready to throw away your dignity and your clothes with it. You could feel his arousal growing-- his hard erection poking you between your legs and teasing your clit as it rubbed against your tight yoga pants. Yes, you were that one parent who wore yoga pants and a crop top to your child's 'parent's teacher meeting' just to have the divine teacher notice you.

Now that he noticed you, you wanted more. Your hand trailed down his chest and towards his pants but he grabbed your wrist to stop you from proceeding any further.

“I can't do this. Not here. The kids sit on those desks. And I have to come back to this place tomorrow". He paused for a second and glanced at the wall clock. "What about the parking lot?"

——————————————————

Kenpachi- Car Mechanic

He finished giving your car a good tune-up. Now it was your turn!

His greasy, unwashed hands leave stains all over your clothes and he has you spread out on the back seat of your car. He roughly slams his 10 inch cock into your pretty pussy, shaking the entire vehicle with each forceful thrust.

He pulled out his cock and admired how it glistened with your juices. “The oil is very dirty. Gonna replace it”. And he shamelessly stuck himself back inside you.

He doesn't hold back when he unleashes his load inside, unbothered by the fact he creampied you to the brink. He pulls his cock out with his dirty hands and slaps the sensitive tip against your swollen clit, making your flinch. 

“Gotta change the dirty oil often. Come back every week for a fresh refill”.

——————————————————

Shūhei- Newspaper Editor

Shuhei was beyond stressed. There wasn't much news to report on anymore. Which was a good thing, right? Not for Shuhei. 

Where was the scandal? The tea? The crime?

You, one of the reporters, walked into his office looking just as bored. You were wearing your revealing, low cut top and short skirt. It was always a good idea to look alluring enough to get people to talk— spill the beans— you called it. 

But Shuhei was about to spill his beans. The blush on his face was hard to conceal. What was even more obvious was the growing tent between his legs? 

You thought you were being cautious when you gave him a delicious blow job under the table. Little did you know the newspaper photographer was hiding in one of the supply closets.

The next day.

Headline with a photo: 

Recent scandal in the office: City's most beloved and hard working editor caught in action with a staff member. Eyewitnesses say it began with a simple taste test and quickly escalated into a full-course meal. The editor looked truly refreshed and recharged afterward. 

You wanted some tea. And here you were served a delicious fresh brew with extra rich cream.

——————————————————

Szayelaporro- Fertility Doctor

100% success rate on the first round. 

What was his secret? 

This was your first visit. The assistant did some blood work and took your vitals. And like any other doctor’s office, you waited….and waited. You almost drifted off while laying on the exam table. 

The doctor finally walked in with a needleless syringe—thicker and longer than usual—filled with his patented ‘magic solution’.

You were already striped and barely covered up by the short and tight hospital gown. 

He didn't say much. Nothing was explained. No risks were discussed. No consent was taken.

His pink hair disappeared between your thighs.  Your legs were already propped up on the stirrups, giving him a perfect view. He parted your soft lips with his hand, the latex fingers rubbing gently against your clit. Your response was unavoidable— a gentle moan had escaped you.

A small grin tugged on his lips but he remained professional and continued to separate your folds, making an opening for his syringe to penetrate through. 

Now he had to insert the entire 8 inch syringe deep inside you until the tip kissed your cervix. You shuddered beneath him, self-control slipping and your mind giving away to momentary pleasure. 

“You shameless creature”, you heard him whisper from below.

A blush grew across your cheeks but you did not stop him. He began to flick his wrist, plunging the syringe in and out of your hole, making a sloppy, slippery mess out of your pussy. 

“This is perfect! The extra fluids and the muscle contractions will help carry the liquid inside and deliver it to the precious egg”, he explained and closely observed your body go into spasm.

He injected the mysterious fluid inside, your body happily accepted it and not a single drop was wasted. 

You quickly changed and made your way out the door, gathering your shame with you. 

Yet you hesitated at the doorway, a burning question pressing on your mind.

“Do I need to have sex with my partner right away?

“Not necessary at all. In fact, you have already conceived”. 

100% success rate was no joke.

-

Forgot to give credit where credit was due. Thanks for the suggestions @whatshernameis @kryptoniteforsale

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…

@shinjisimp can't remember a time i wasn't gooning ☝️😔

i wonder what i thought about before my thoughts were vastly consumed by having sex with fictional characters and falling in love with fictional characters

Mayuri my dear, that's not how you hold a sword 😭