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soprawrites · 1 day ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

"You do not-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is there a problem here?"

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

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

Shinji.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

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

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

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

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

“In the wee small hours of the morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bleach #bleach x reader #not my writing #shinji hirako #he's such a sweetie 💕#i love him your honor #i also want that pickle lmaooo

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