Article By Jed Olsen

beautiful idiot 🥲

usually just drunk and horny

Okay, so since you did the squirting question, it's only fair I ask for those who would enjoy it if you creamed a lot.

So who would be ecstatic to learn that you tend to cream a lot? Just loving the sight (I know Kyoraku would definitely be there) ❣️

A/N: That man appreciates all the things you have to offer him. A hedonist. And we love him for that.

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐢 — a hedonist at heart, Shunsui would groan in pleasure, spreading you open just to watch your slickness coat his fingers before sucking them clean. He’d whisper lazy praises about how perfect you are, murmuring about how he could stay between your thighs all day.

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧 — he’d smirk, enjoying the way your creamy arousal betrays you. He’d stroke through your wetness with teasing slowness, murmuring something smug about how much you need him and how messy you’ve become just for him, before finally indulging fully.

𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 — a refined indulgence. He might act composed, but there’s something about a perfectly creaming pussy that utterly ruins him. Loves seeing how drenched you get just from his fingers, whispering soft yet filthy praise as he spreads you open. Would spend a ridiculous amount of time between your thighs just admiring the wetness before ever giving you his cock.

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 — clenching around him, so wet that it drips down his length. Loves seeing you full and dripping, spreading your open just to watch how much you’ve creamed from his touch alone. Would bury his face in your folds and murmur sweet praises while making you gush on his tongue before making his cock look equally messy.

𝐉𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 — enjoys watching the mess you make around his cock, and loves feeling how wet you get for him. Would purposefully take his time, making sure you’re creaming endlessly before he even starts fucking you properly. Runs his fingers through it, revelling in the way you react. He’d lose himself in the creamy slickness. He’d press his forehead against yours, breath hitching, eyes locked onto the way you drip for him.

𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 — this man appreciates pleasure, and he’d find it downright addictive. He’d tease you relentlessly, dipping a finger into your cunt and bringing it to his lips, tasting it with a slow, exaggerated hum of approval, running his cock through your folds to cover him in your creamy goodness.

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐰 — wild and primal, Grimmjow would love seeing your pussy messy with arousal. He’d drag his tongue over you, groaning, making a complete mess of your slickness just to rile you up more. The sight alone would make his cock throb.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐤 — normally lazy and easygoing, but the moment he notices how creamy you’ve become, his eyes would darken. He’d run his fingers through your slick folds, testing just how wet you were before giving a slow, approving hum. He’d contemplate between eating you out first or getting you to make a greater mess all over his cock.

𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 — he definitely loves it, but he’d be so overwhelmed by how sexy you look that he’d struggle to find the words. He’d bite his lip, groan, and run his hands over your thighs, mesmerised, before burying himself in your mess and adding to it.

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 — absolutely ravenous. He’s messy, impatient, and insatiable. Loves seeing you creaming for him. He’s hungry. The type to shove his cock right back at the moment he pulls out and sees you dripping. Loves seeing your body react so viscerally to him, knowing he’s the one making you this messy.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 — would act like it’s just a normal part of sex but definitely notices and enjoys it. He’d tease you about how worked up you are. Calling you a messy girl and how he’s here to clean you up (he makes more mess instead), smirking as he rubs the rip of his cock through your wetness.

𝐆𝐢𝐧 — loves the visual of a creaming pussy, the way it clings to him. Would constantly tease, dipping just the tip in and watching the way you leak before fully thrusting in. Enjoys feeling how slick you get, whispering wicked things as he lazily plays with you.

𝐙𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 — he just wants to feel and taste everything. Would shove his face between your thighs and stay there for as long as he damn well pleases, making sure you’re completely ruined before he even starts fucking you. The kind of man who wouldn’t stop until you’re drenched and trembling.

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Hisagi, Ryuken, Uryu

❀˖˚ ༘𐙚 Confections & Confessions

Shinji Hirako x gn!reader

Synopsis: You are the third seat of Squad 3, who just so happens to have a little crush on a certain blond captain from Squad 5. When you are reminded that his birthday is coming up, you decide—with a little push from your captain—to gift Shinji a handmade treat…

CW: sfw, set during TBTP, confessions, reader is a bit nervous and unsure of themself, Rose being #1 wingman, Shinji being Shinji at the end

WC: 4k

Notes: Happy Birthday, Shinji! 💞 I wanted to try something a little different here, and I got a little carried away with the plot. So, this came out longer than I had initially intended it to be.

Also, as an extra note! Correct me if I’m wrong, but I know birthdays weren’t really celebrated individually in Japan until after WWII—it was more of a New Year’s thing, I believe? I still tried to keep it accurate to the time, but since this is meant for Shinji’s birthday, we’ll have to suspend our disbelief a little here.

The rhythmic melody of your captain’s violin performance reaches your ears as you come up to his office to deliver a report. Just as you were about to open the door, you heard Lieutenant Iba’s yelling, cutting the music off. Chikane Iba was known for her stern demeanor and never hesitated in criticizing your captain, Rojuro ‘Rose’ Otoribashi.

Rose’s daily musical performance followed by Chikane’s verbal assault was a daily occurrence, one you had gotten used to as a member of the Third Division.

With a sigh, you prepare yourself mentally to face your lieutenant’s strict glare as you interrupt them. “I apologize for the interruption, Captain, Lieutenant. I have a report for you, sir.” You direct your attention to Rose.

“Good grief, perfect timing. Get this man to finally work on something.” The elder woman sighs sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. With a stabbing glare, she looks over at the blond pointedly. “I expect these to be completed when I return, and so help me, if I find you wasting away with these instruments instead, I’ll have more than just a few choice words for you.”

Even though her words aren’t directed at you, you can’t help but feel a foreboding sense of dread settle deep in your gut at her threatening tone. You nod timidly as she moves past you, exiting the office and leaving a thick silence in her wake that you could cut with your zanpakutō. You much prefer the sound of your captain’s music.

“I don’t know how you can keep testing her patience like that.” You comment offhandedly as you walk further into the office, coming up to Rose’s desk as he rises from his slumped position.

“As long as she doesn’t take my precious Candice away…” He sighs with a pained shudder, moving to pick up a stack of files on top of his desk. “And, I’m still captain at the end of the day.” He starts to rifle through the pages quickly, but not quick enough for your eyes to miss the words on the front page:

Joint Training Session: Squads 3 and 5.

You ignore the way your heart skips a beat, clearing your throat to direct his attention back to you, gesturing to the report in your hand in question.

“Ah, just set it there,” he points off to the side of his cluttered desk to another stack of papers. “This takes precedence.”

“Is that so?” You question casually, trying not to show how interested you really are. 

“Yes, well, considering we have this training session tomorrow…” he trails off, signing off on something.

“Oh, right. That’s tomorrow, huh.” There’s a feigned disinterest in your tone that causes Rose to glance at you with a knowing smile.

“You’re supposed to be there too, you know.”

“Of course.”

A brief moment of silence passes after your quick response as you stare at each other, Rose’s smile growing more as you start to waver.

“Ahh! Please stop staring at me like that!” You yell at him, irritated by his expression. You know what that look means, but you don’t want to admit it.

“Come now, there’s no need to be shy about having a crush. Shinji is-“

“I don’t have a crush on him!” You snap, cutting him off with a huff and feeling your face flush with warmth. This was not a conversation you were expecting to have so early in the morning.

“Ahh, a first love. You should be embracing it! In fact, a blossoming romance is-“

“Ok, I’ll be heading out now! I’ve done my job and delivered my report, captain. I suggest you finish your work before Lieutenant Iba comes back.” You interrupt once more, not wanting to hear his whole spiel that he was going to go on about.

You hear him call out your name as you head toward the door. “Don’t be late tomorrow.”

“Right.” You sigh quietly, nervous about the day ahead and hoping that your captain wouldn’t say anything to embarrass you.

The following afternoon, you find yourself at the training grounds in the Fifth Division’s barracks, overseeing a small group of soul reapers from both Squad 3 and 5 as they train together. A few paces away, you can hear Chikane strictly direct the group in front of her, and you can’t help but feel sympathetic at the fearful looks on their faces.

To the other side, you spot Lieutenant Aizen as he politely instructs his group as they look to him in awe, blushes on their cheeks. Gin stands with him to help, the young prodigy making comments every now and then.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rose sitting with Shinji, the two of them chatting as they sip on tea. Your group was closest to where they were, so you could faintly make out what they were saying as you stepped back to watch the soul reapers train in front of you.

“I’m tellin’ ya Rose, ya gotta be more sneaky with lazin’ around.” You hear Shinji express, your heart fluttering at the sound of his drawling voice. It had been a few days since you last saw him, and just the sound of him talking is enough to make you giddy with excitement.

“And how many times must I say that I’m not lazing around like you?”

“Sure, sure.” Shinji’s honey eyes meet yours, causing your gaze to flick away out of habit. 

Since when had you been staring at him? You hadn’t even noticed. The anxiety at having been caught staring has your heart racing, but you have to admit to yourself that it wasn’t just being noticed that had you feeling that way. The image of Shinji lounging in his seat stays in your mind; his long and glossy hair shimmering in the sunlight as it sways in the gentle spring breeze, an easy-going expression gracing his handsome features. You feel your cheeks warming, mentally kicking yourself to pull it together—you’re working, after all!

“That reminds me, though,” Rose’s gentle voice rings, his next few words catching your attention. “Your birthday is coming up next week, right?”

That's right! Shinji’s birthday was in just a few days. It had slipped your mind, what with work and all. You had wanted to do something for him, but you weren't quite sure what to do.

“Hm? Yeah, it is.”

“Do you have any plans?” Rose asks curiously, taking a sip from his steaming cup.

“Not really… Maybe I’ll just go out after work for some drinks. Like last year.” Shinji responds in a contemplative manner, tilting his head over at the other blond and reminding him of a shared memory they had.

“Hm, yeah, that was nice. That sake the bar owner offered you was delicious, wasn’t it?”

“It was, now I can’t wait…” Shinji sighs, clearly wanting another taste of the drink.

“So you’re not doing anything during the day, then?” Rose asks after a short pause, quite suspiciously, in your opinion.

“No? As if Sōsuke’ll let me!” Shinji says with a scowl, shooting a glare over at said lieutenant.

“When has that ever stopped you?” Rose deadpans.

Shinji ignores him, continuing on. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Rose glances in your direction, that knowing smile back on his lips. You pretend to ignore him, but he knows you heard. Shinji's perceptive eyes follow his line of sight to you, but before he can question Rose again, clearly not buying what he said, Rose changes the subject.

You can feel Shinji's lingering gaze on your back as you try your hardest to ignore it. You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding when you heard him get drawn into the conversation with Rose.

You get lost in your thoughts again. You wished to go out with them to the bar, but you know better. It’s not like you could just show up uninvited, and even if you could, you’d feel way too awkward trying to join in. Maybe you could just slip a gift onto his desk at some point during the day? Yeah, you think that sounds like a good idea. But now you’re not sure what you should get him.

As you ponder and try to brainstorm, you hear someone politely call your name. When you glance up, you find one of the soul reapers in your training group looking at you with a concerned expression on his face.

“Oh! Sorry about that, I got lost in thought,” you laugh sheepishly, “Nice work, everyone! Let’s move on to the next exercise.”

Any remaining thoughts of gifts get pushed to the back of your head as you focus back on the training session in front of you. You can think about all that later tonight.

After spending the whole night agonizing over it, you find yourself in front of Rose in his office, desperate for help. You never thought you’d be asking him something like this, as your nerves eat away at your insides.

“What do you need?” He questions, saying your name, a curious look in his eyes as he watches you nervously fiddle with your fingers.

Fidgeting in your spot, you mumble out a reply, “I don’t know what to get him.”

“Get what for whom?” Your sharp eyes glare at him while he laughs heartily.

“I’m just kidding. I, for one, am proud that you are working up the courage to confess your feelings.”

“Woah! I never said anything about confessing!” You blush, trying to push the nerve-wracking thought away. That’s an entire hurdle you are not ready for—even if the idea is sort of exhilarating. “I just want to get him something nice, at the very least.”

Rose thinks it over for a second before offering, “How about you make him some namagashi like nerikiri? I know he enjoys having them on special occasions, especially when Ukitake invites us all over to that specialty tea shop he frequents.”

You consider it, but you’ve never made the traditional dessert before, let alone watched someone make it. So you find yourself a bit hesitant at the idea.

“Plus, if it came from you, I’m sure Shinji would be over the moon.”

You squint at him, trying to read his expression, but you can’t really tell what he meant by that. Or, it's more like you refuse to indulge in the idea that Shinji might like you like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up over nothing. So, you cast his latter statement aside as just flattery before focusing on the idea he brought up.

“I don’t know… I’ve never made anything like that before. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I have a friend who owns a confectionery shop over in the food district. I can introduce you if you’d like.” He offers nicely with a patient smile.

You chew over his offer; if this friend of his could help you out, you think it’s not such a bad idea after all. At the end of the day, you trust Rose’s opinion, not only as your captain but as a friend.

“Ok. If you could, that would be great.”

“Perfect! We can swing by after work. I don’t want Chikane admonishing either of us for skipping the day.” He sighs heavily, and you nod in agreement.

After Rose had introduced you to his friend, you would stop by the confectionery shop every day after work to practice making the namagashi. You spent many hours agonizing away to create a perfectly designed and tasty sweet. The shopkeeper, a kind elderly gentleman, had even given you a premium tea blend to pair with the dessert after seeing how hard you had worked on it.

Today was the 10th of May, Shinji’s birthday, and you had just finished making the delicate sweet mere moments ago as you rushed to the Squad 5 barracks. The shopkeeper had drilled into you the fact that the soft dessert should ideally be eaten immediately, so you had practiced for this by estimating the shortest time it would take to get from one place to another. You had timed it perfectly so that you could place the gift on Shinji’s desk right before he came back with Aizen after a meeting that Rose had told you about. Your captain had kindly turned a blind eye and let you skip out on work to get his done.

Having made it to your destination in under five minutes, you do your best to sneak into the fifth’s barracks, moving quickly to the captain’s office and making sure not to jostle the neatly wrapped gift in your hands. You come face to face with the doors leading to said office and wait a moment, making sure no one is inside before inching your way into the quaint room.

Your nerves are getting to you, but before you can change your mind, you muster all of your courage and quickly move to Shinji’s desk to gently place the present down.

It’s like a weight has lifted off your shoulders when you release the bundle from your hands, all the tension from the past week washing away. You find yourself relieved to finally have achieved what you had practiced so hard on and planned to do.

Now that you’ve accomplished what you came to do, you take a moment to look around the room. While you had been there plenty of times before for work and the times Shinji had drawn you into conversation, you had never taken a moment to have a close look at the place before.

You know you shouldn’t, but something pulls at you to take a look at the shelves in the room. You find a simple comb next to a few bottles that look like they are filled with creams and oils for hair. You can’t help but smile softly and chuckle a bit at that; no wonder Shinji’s hair looks so luscious all the time. He's definitely the type to pay special attention and take care of it so well.

Suddenly, a deep voice breaks your quiet musing. “It looks like you have a visitor, Captain Hirako.”

With a start, you look behind you in alarm, spotting Aizen by the door. The color drains from your face and with dread you realize that you’ve been caught and have no escape out of this, knowing Shinji isn’t far behind.

“Huh? Who is it?” Shinji comes around the corner, his long hair and captain’s haori swaying behind him. His eyes land on your frozen form as the curiosity in them turns to surprise. It quickly shifts, though, to an amused expression as he stares at you. You look like a mouse caught between a cat and a wall.

“Oh? What do we have here? Rose sent ya for somethin’?” Comes Shinji’s immediate response, a playful tone slinking into his voice.

“Um, no, not quite.” You stammer out, mind trying to keep up with everything happening.

“It appears the third seat has brought a gift for you,” Aizen interjects, drawing attention over to Shinji’s desk, where the delicately wrapped nerikiri lay.

You can’t help but cast a quick glare Aizen’s way. Now you really don’t have an out for this.

“Oh? Ya got somethin’ for little ol’ me? How sweet of ya!” Shinji drawls as he saunters over to his desk to pick up the bundle. You feel your face heat up, embarrassed and flustered from the situation and his teasing tone. 

A beat of silence passes as you rack your brain, trying to come up with something to say. However, before you can decide on what, Shinji speaks once more.

“Hey Sōsuke. Didn’t ya mention you have to go pick up some stuff from Squad 1?”

“It was paperwork, not just ‘some stuff’, captain. But yes, I did.”

“Why don’tcha go along and do that now, then?”

“Captain, I think-“

“Go on now,” Shinji shoos him away. You stand awkwardly off to the side during the whole interaction, unsure of what to do.

Aizen sighs deeply before replying with a brief, “Yes, captain,” and with a nod of his head, the lieutenant leaves the room.

Now you’re left with Shinji. Alone. Having to explain your way out of this, casually, so that you don’t make a fool of yourself. Ugh, what are you going to do? This was not part of the plan! Why would Aizen draw attention to the gift, and why would you let yourself get distracted when you knew you hadn’t had much time?

Shinji breaks your thoughts as you chastise yourself. “So yer my secret admirer.”

“Huh?”

“I’m just messin’ with ya.” He assures with a chuckle, the teasing lilt in his voice never leaving as he takes hold of the wrapped gift sitting neatly on his desk.

You can hear your heart beating in your ears as he starts to unwrap the artfully tied cloth. “Let's see, what did ya get me?”

When he finally unravels the wrapping to reveal your handmade nerikiri, the wide grin he wears falters, morphing into a pleasant surprise. He stares at it for a few more seconds, noticing the rough edges on the soft treat before asking you, “Did ya make these yerself?”

“I did,” you answer nervously. “I made them in the shape of a daffodil,” you pause, hesitating before saying, “they remind me of you.”

You look away, feeling shy, but you end up missing the blush creeping up his neck and to his cheeks as he looks away as well, his hair hiding his face from you.

“That so…?” 

An awkward few seconds pass by before he straightens up, a wide and charming grin tugging on his lips as he glances back at you. “Well then, sweet pea, I’ll savor every last bite!”

Warmth rushes to your already flushed face at his use of the pet name as you try to respond. The butterflies fluttering away in your stomach don’t let up even as you watch him go to brew the tea that you had included with the treat. “Uh, I hope it’s to your liking.” 

“These’re great! So I’m sure I will, especially if they’re made by yer sweet hands, darlin'.” He flashes an attractive smirk your way.

He makes his way back over, two cups in his hand as he passes one over to you, gesturing for you to sit with him. He picks up the colorful sweet and takes a bite, letting out a delighted, “mmm,” before taking a sip of tea.

“It’s really good. Thanks, doll.”

“I’m glad you like it! Happy Birthday, Shinji.”

“Thanks,” he smiles brightly. However, you notice it drops slightly as it looks like he mulls something over. “Y’know? Wasn’t expectin’ fer ya to do somethin’ for me.” He gazes into your eyes, a perceptive look in his warm browns. “Why?”

“Well, I guess I got the little push that I needed, and I… guess I also wanted to…” You trail off, getting lost in his eyes as a sudden urge to tell him how you truly feel overwhelms you.

“You wanted to…?” He coaxes in a low tone, voice dropping to a hush.

“I wanted to tell you…”

Should you say it now? Should you tell him your feelings for him? That your eyes look for him in crowded rooms, that you look forward to the days when you get to work with his squad, in the chance that you can get a glimpse of? That you long to be near him, that you long to be with him at the end of the day.

You draw a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“I wanted to say that I like you. More than you could ever know.”

There’s a pause, the air thick with anticipation as you hold your breath, waiting to hear his response.

“Really? Say it again,” he whispers quietly.

“Wha-,” you stammer, but the genuine expression he wears has you repeating yourself, more confidently this time. “I said I like you.”

“Again.”

“I like you.”

“Again.” Ok, now he was just teasing you, a mischievous, cunning grin tugging on his features as he asks you again and again.

“Come on, that’s enough, don’t you think?” You pout, feeling all too flustered. Was he making fun of you? No, he wasn’t, you know better than that. Sure, he loved to make fun of Hiyori and tease those around him, but it was always in good fun, even if it didn’t always look that way with the freckled lieutenant. He would never want to intentionally hurt anyone he cared about; you knew that much from watching him for so long. It was one of his qualities that attracted you in the first place.

“You could say it a million times, and I don’t think I’d ever have enough. I wanna hear ya say it every damn day.”

Your heart flutters at his honest admission. “Don’t you think you’d get tired of hearing it that often?”

“I’d never get tired of hearin’ ya say that you like me! Would ya get tired of hearin’ me say it?” He retorts, questioning you in return.

You tilt your head curiously. Hold on, did you miss something? “I don’t recall hearing you say that you like me, though.”

A beat passes as he stares back at you before sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Oh, that’s my bad, darlin’. I got all caught up in the moment that I forgot to say my piece.”

Shinji’s goofy grin drops as a more serious air surfaces around him. He faces you in earnest, placing a lithe hand on yours. 

“I like you too, y’know. Have for a while now,” he leans in closer to you, the crisp scent of his cologne invading your senses and drawing you closer to him. “Ya just made me the happiest man in the world right now.” He grins again, but it’s softer now, more tender as he confesses his feelings for you.

Your chest swells with a pleasant warmth, a sense of relief washing over you. The butterflies fluttering about inside you, not dancing out of nervousness now but from true joy.

“Really?” You ask quietly.

“Mhm,” he’s just a hairsbreadth away from you as he leans in closer, eyes flicking to your lips.

“Then say it again,” you whisper, his eyes flashing back to yours, a mirth glimmering in them before he chuckles lightly. 

“I like ya,” and just when his lips were about to press to yours, nearby chatter from outside his office causes you to pull back.

You clear your throat, “I should be heading back now.” You stand, dusting off your shihakushō. Shinji follows you, doing the same, albeit with a disgruntled look, clearly upset at having missed the chance to kiss you. 

“Headin’ back so soon?” He sighs, missing the way you chuckle quietly to yourself at his irritated grumbling.

“Yeah, well, lunch is already almost over, and it would be kind of awkward to have to explain everything to Lieutenant Aizen when he comes back. So...”

At the mention of his good-natured lieutenant, Shinji groans, tossing his head to the side. “Ugh, yer right.” He stares off into the distance for a second but before you can question him on it he’s speaking again.

“Thanks for all this.” He gestures to the empty box you had used for the nerikiri. “This is the best birthday present I could ever ask for.”

“I’m glad,” you smile sweetly. “Well, I hope you have fun with the others later tonight.”

“What’re ya sayin’?” He gives you a confused look, “Yer comin’ too!”

“Are you sure?”

”'Course I am, silly, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it!” He exclaims, making it clear that he wanted you there with him.

"Well then, I look forward to it!"

“Yer gonna make my birthday night even more special,” he voices suggestively, a teasing smirk quirking on his lips. "Plus, I want the other part of my gift." His eyes flicker down to your lips.

You’re so glad you ended up confessing, you think as you blush at his insinuation. You just know you aren’t going to hear the end of it when Rose finds out, telling you he was right.

Tagging @darthwhorecrux, Shinji wants you to make his night 😉

How hot is that character: AIZEN

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

listen...i have such a love hate relationship with Aizen. he did my men (Shinji and Kisuke) DIRTY so i HATE him...but speaking objectively, he might be the most handsome man in ALL OF ANIME 🫣 i hate him but would i like to fuck him ??? you know what hell yeah

and i always have to respect the evil masterminding ☝️ hate u aizen but yeah u kinda ate with that one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" 

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

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

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

"You do not-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is there a problem here?" 

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

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

Shinji.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

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

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

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

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

“In the wee small hours of the morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎂🎈 Happy birthday, Shinji! 🎈🎂

Ugh, lovee tis hairstyle on Shinji!

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

@darthwhorecrux @villainsrtasty @tomitsulikeslemons

learning to draw him for some future ideas 👀

Hello lovely!

I got a silly ask, but do you think Shinji can be romantic?

Btw: I am enjoying all of your work so much. I literally am starting to fall for characters I didn't expect to fall for. Curse you, you amazing beautiful person/writer!

A/N: Whenever someone tells me that it’s my fault for making them like a character they weren’t into from the start, I do a little laugh like a villain. That was the plan from the start 😏. I have succeeded, hehe. Now, onto your question:

Do I think Shinji is romantic?

Why absolutely yes. Just not in the manner the ideal envisionment of romanticism is portrayed. This is Shinji we’re talking about. He’s gonna add his ✨️extra spice✨️ to whatever it is he’s planning. If he were to be romantic, it would likely be in a lighthearted, mischievous way—flirting with an easy confidence, throwing in cheeky remarks, and making his partner laugh. He’s not the kind to be overly sappy, but he’d show affection through actions rather than grand words—cheeky and casual touches, making sure his partner is safe, and being there when it truly counts.

That being said, if he ever did get serious about someone, his rare, unguarded moments of tenderness would hit hard, making it clear that, behind all the jokes, he genuinely cares.