Tumgik
#kn8 fic
mangostarjam · 2 months
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terms of address — kaiju no. 8, fluff, "sweetheart" as a pet name, hoshina soshiro x female reader, 1.6k words — part two, part three
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"What's wrong, my dear? You look kinda… stressed."
"Stressed? Stressed?" you repeat, turning your disbelieving gaze upon the Third Division's Vice Captain. Hoshina Soshiro is frowning slightly, a faint downward tick to his mouth that others probably wouldn't even notice, but you — you've been his operations manager for a few years now, and you've had plenty of time to learn his quirks.
"Yeesh, I was just askin'," Soshiro says, "what're you doin' up, anyway? Ain't it past your bedtime?"
"I could say the same to you," you point out. You watch as he slides his practice blades home, pretending not to notice the flex of his arms in his stupidly fitted training uniform. Sometimes you wonder if he got his clothes a size smaller with the way they seem molded to every ridge and curve of his muscles, and then you mentally smack yourself because you should not be paying attention to him like that. He's your Vice Captain and that's it. That has to be it.
"You just got discharged from the hospital. Rest is important!"
"I'm alright," Soshiro waves you off, but takes the towel you wordlessly hold out for him to wipe at the sweat dripping down his face. The training room is quiet except for the buzz of fluorescents above you and the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest. Your Vice Captain seems content to stand close as he wipes himself down, emanating heat as you try to shrink into your borrowed Defense Force jacket.
This was a mistake. You should've just walked past the door and ignored the light on underneath — but the distinct sound of blades slicing through air at high speeds made your ears perk up, and before you could tell yourself not to do something stupid — well, you're here now.
"I couldn't sleep."
Soshiro raises an eyebrow at your confession and hangs the towel around his neck. He's still standing way too close, but it's… comforting. Confusing. Another little piece of the mystery that is Hoshina Soshiro, who always has a grin on his face except for when he's taking down kaiju. Your Vice Captain, who's started standing closer to you than normal, and asking you about the books stacked in your dormitory, and brushing his hand along the back of your chair as you sit in it.
"Because of the stress?"
"Yeah," you frown, tilting your head up to look him in the eye. Sweat has dampened his purple hair into a darker shade, a deep pretty color that nearly seems black except for where the light glints off the strands. Man, you really must have it bad if you're starting to find his sweaty hair attractive. "So you should be good and quit stressing me out."
Soshiro grins abruptly, light and lopsided as he tilts his own head to look at you appraisingly. "You were stressin' about me?"
"Obviously," you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a subtle step back. He mirrors your step seemingly subconsciously, ducking his head to hide the pleased curl of his mouth before he arranges his features into something more familiar to you when he meets your eye again. "You're my Vice Captain, after all. And you know I hate when you land in the hospital. I hate… seeing you get hurt."
Too much — too close to a confession. But the night air is still and your little bubble feels warm and comfortable and secret.
"That's why I've gotta get stronger, my dear," Soshiro says pleasantly. You take another step backwards and your heel hits the wall a second before your back meets the cold metal. Soshiro leans forward, bracing a strong arm against the wall by your head. "Next time I'll wipe the damn floor with that kaiju."
"Of course you will," you flush in spite of yourself. He's standing really close, practically pinning you to the wall, and this is so not normal Vice-Captain-and-Operations-Manager behavior that your lightning fast brain feels like it's short circuiting.
He smells good. Like… cypress. Something woodsy and fresh. You take a deep breath.
The column of his throat works and you watch, mesmerized by the strong cut of his jaw and totally distracted.
"So didja want some help?"
"H-help? With what?" You risk a glance back up just in time to see his gaze drag down to your lips.
No. There's no way —
"I could tell ya bedtime stories."
The ends of his towel swing forward and rest against the zipper of your borrowed jacket and the swell of your chest. You can feel his breaths against your face, but he makes no move to get any closer. "I doubt you know any good ones."
Soshiro laughs. His forehead presses against your own for a moment as he chuckles, and when he pulls back a little the grin on his face makes you beam up at him, delight swooping through your stomach at making him laugh.
"I could tell you training stories, then," he suggests. "Like the time Okonogi thought —"
"Nothing with Okonogi," you interrupt, flushing again when he pauses to regard you. "I just — she —"
"What's the matter? I thought you two got along…?"
This is so embarrassing. You should've just kept your mouth shut, but now Soshiro is looking at you intently and you don't want to give him the wrong idea about your relationship with your superior but if you admit the truth… it's embarrassing.
"You…"
"Me?" Soshiro moves to pull away and you reach up to grip the end of his towel before he can get too far, dropping it immediately when he freezes in place. Fuck, you shouldn't have done that.
"Tell me," he says quietly. "What is it, my dear?"
Your heart clenches in your chest. "You call her that, too. Do you use that for all the female operations managers?"
His eyebrows draw together for a second in apparent confusion before his entire expression brightens and he laughs. "Just you two," he admits, reaching up with his free hand to grip the loose ends of your hair lightly. "Okonogi and I have worked together for a while. I respect her. And you. But… I can call you somethin' else, if you'd like. If I'm allowed."
Your face feels like it's on fire. You curl your fingers around the ends of your too-long sleeves. "You… you're the only one who's allowed. You know that."
Soshiro says your name. Watches your reaction with a focus usually reserved for fighting kaiju. Twirls the strands of your hair gently around his fingers. "Too soon? Let's get you to bed, then. It's gettin' late."
"B-bed? Hoshina-san, Vice Captain sir, that's not — we can't —"
"Aw, don't worry, ya dope. I'm just escortin' you. These halls ain't safe for a cutie like you this late at night," Soshiro says easily, finally moving away and taking all of his warmth with him. You squeak in surprise at his words and he tosses you a grin over his shoulder.
"Sir —"
"Play fair, sweetheart," Soshiro says. Cutie?? Sweetheart?? Those are new ones. You become suddenly aware of how your heart is beating rabbit-fast.
He grabs one of your hands and tugs you forward, his smile growing lopsided when you squeak again and stumble after him. "What're you gonna call me from now on, huh? Everyone calls me Vice Captain or sir. You'd better come up with somethin' special."
Your Vice Captain leads you out of the training room before your brain can catch up, his hand firm around yours. Rough callouses scratch at your skin, but you squeeze his hand the instant he starts to loosen his grip. Soshiro glances back at you with a smile that makes your heart do something concerning in your chest.
"Hoshina…kun," you test the honorific in your mouth, glancing up in time to catch the way his ears redden beneath his hair. "Can I call you Hoshina-kun?"
Soshiro clears his throat and keeps walking. "'Course, sweetheart. But maybe just when we're alone."
"Huh?"
"Can't have ya makin' me shy in front of the officers," Soshiro says, facing resolutely forward. "I'd lose all my authority."
Oh. Oh…?
"Okay… Hoshina-kun."
Soshiro makes a funny little coughing noise and stops abruptly, turning to rest his free hand on your head, forcing your gaze downward. "Alrighty, then, cutie, time to sleep! I'll see ya tomorrow mornin', hm?"
You nod, eyes closed, trying your best to memorize the weight of his palm. Soshiro drags his hand downward, cupping your face for a moment and sweeping his thumb along your cheekbone before dropping it entirely to tug at the collar of your jacket.
"Okie dokie, now get inside," Soshiro says lightly. You risk a glance up and valiantly try to suppress a shiver down your spine at the expression on his face. "It ain't fair to look so good wearin' my jacket, y'know."
"I — it was on the back of my chair and I was… cold…"
Soshiro grins. "I figured you were. That's why I left it for ya."
"Thanks, Vice Cap— Hoshina-kun," you murmur, reaching for the door to your dormitory. Warmth is settling deep in your chest. You really shouldn't be doing this — letting him hold your hand, shifting your relationship in another direction, following the beats of your heart as his smile softens and you take a tiny step closer to him. This is inappropriate and dangerous, but… it's Soshiro.
"You're going to sleep now too, right?" you ask. The hallway lights flicker and buzz as he leans forward, tugging you close by the collar of your (his) jacket until he can press his forehead against yours. Your eyelashes flutter shut as his breaths puff across your lips, but he simply takes a deep breath before pulling away. His hand is warm around yours.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
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narumi-gens · 1 year
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Never Felt a Feeling Like This
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Narumi Gen x f!Reader
summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)
notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.
words: 6.3k
part of the Agents of Chaos series
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment
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As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 
All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 
The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 
With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 
Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 
“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 
But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.
“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”
Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.
“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 
He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 
Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?
But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.
You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 
It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 
Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.
You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 
“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”
But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 
“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 
You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 
“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 
Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.
The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 
Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 
There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 
The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”
With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.
You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 
“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 
But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 
You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 
When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 
“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”
“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 
“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 
However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 
His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 
The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 
Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 
The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.
His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 
Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 
With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.
He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.
And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 
His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.
What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 
Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 
It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.
But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.
He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.
It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 
He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 
“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 
Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.
You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 
The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 
His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 
He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 
And he also notices that it twitched upward. 
For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.
However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 
His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 
Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 
Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.
All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.
What would you look like in just your lab coat?
His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 
And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.
He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 
The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 
You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 
Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 
When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 
“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.
His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.
“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 
You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.
“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 
“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.
“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”
Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 
“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”
He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 
You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.
There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 
A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.
Simple as that.
Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.
Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.
“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 
As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.
He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 
But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.
He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.
The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.
“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 
“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.
“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 
Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  
“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 
But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 
“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 
Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 
“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 
Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 
“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!
Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.
He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.
He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.
He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 
As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 
With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 
Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 
But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.
His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.
From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏
He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis
He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 
From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪
He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱
Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.
From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 
From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏
From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️
From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫
His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝
It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏
He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 
The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 
Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 
Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 
His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 
He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 
When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 
Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 
What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.
And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 
Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?
He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 
He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  
After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 
He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.
He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 
He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 
And you would, wouldn’t you?
Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 
You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 
And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 
Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 
His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 
As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 
His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 
He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 
However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 
His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO
That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 
When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.
After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.
“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.
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izfaish · 4 months
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drew these for the kn8 server!
kn8 fanfics featured above:
Confessions on Autopilot by dogbane_pomegranate @natarillus (ihareno)
Naturally by Phixion (ihareno)
resonance by sieling_fan (ennoshitoes) (naruhoshi, narumi & kikoru)
one more dance with you by bluejelly245 @jelliefeesh (naruhoshi)
are we falling (like snow) by stealthestars (naruhoshi)
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hyoqa · 8 days
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— a guy asks for your number ft. hoshina, narumi, reno
warnings: mentions dick and profanities in hoshina's
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natarillus · 8 months
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Drew these two for Ren from the Kn8 server <3 AND THERE'S A WONDERFUL FIC THIS ART ACCOMPANIES - I Think He Knows by sieling_fan
Make sure to check it out if you love sports, drama, and rivals in love >)
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peskyfirefly · 1 month
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sleeeeeeepoverrrr weeeeekend! hi hi mishmish! i'm currently thinking about my kn8 poly fic and wondering how to wrangle these vibes into plot lmao. how are you? are you looking forward to the anime?
KN8 FIC? POLY FIC? WITH WHO??? TELL ME MORE U HAVE MY ATTENTION<3333
also hiii!! im good tysm!!<3 how are u i hope ur doing well too beloved 🥺
i love kn8 and im so excited to have an anime for it!! i hope itll bring a lot of new fans in<33 admittedly i was a bit hesitant when the character designs came out ): i feel like they all look a little too...round?? soft?? does that make sense? asdfghjkl
but the trailer came out and i feel like everything else in it looks pretty good so !!! we'll see when it comes out. in any case im SOOOO EXCITED TO GET GEN NARUMI AND SOSHIRO HOSHINA CONTENT!!! I LOVE THEM TO DEATH THEY ARE MY BELOVEDS
how are u feeling about it? are u excited? o: ALSO how are the vibes? are they getting wrangled? asdfghjkl
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prettyiwa · 3 years
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» Do not follow if you are under the age of 18 or have yet to graduate high school.
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Basic Blog Information:
This is a multifandom blog that occasionally posts writing. I tag the fandoms I'm most actively engaged in (listed below).
My writing consists of 'x Reader' content and the bulk of fan fic that I will reblog will also be 'x Reader.'
I interact with NSFW and dark content creators and works and occasionally write the same.
Definitely not spoiler free but I will do my best to tag them.
DO NOT REPOST my work to any site. Please do not recommend my work on TikTok. Other permissions are listed below the cut.
Please consider whether you are still comfortable following me given the above.
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Permissions:
I do not give permission to modify or repost my work to any site. I do not give permission for my fics to be read for podfics or the like. I do not tolerate plagiarism as defined academically.
Please contact me if you wish to book-bind, translate, or create in a shared universe with one of my stories.
I do encourage the creation of fan art, playlists, moodboards, etc!
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Interactions:
Please be kind, not just to myself and my followers, but also to yourself.
Curate your Tumblr experience. I won't take it personally if you unfollow or block me.
I primarily follow based on content & vibes.
Reasons I may have blocked you can include: » Intolerance/bigotry (e.g. TERF, racist, sexist) » You are a minor » Evidence of plagiarism or art theft » Vibes
Slow to respond. It's not personal, just bad ADHD. (I also tend to avoid answering questions if I'm mobile-bound).
Feel free to tag me if you'd like me to see a piece of writing, an edit, art, et al. I track the tag #prettyiwa for original content. » Please do not send me dark content without previous discussion. » Please do not send me content including Zombies, Pregnancy/Baby Fever/Children, Mommy/Daddy Kink, or Harry Potter.
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Writing:
My fics will contain content tags and ratings. I ask that minors only engage with my works rated SFW.
I write F!, AFAB!, and GN! and otherwise queer characters and readers. If I mention comparable height or hair texture, I will include a content tag for it.
My stories are character-driven and plot heavy, often including mature themes and a LOT of research and realism. I am not a short form writer. Because of that, I do not take requests.
Active Fandom: Daiya no Ace, FFXVI Hiatus: Fullmetal Alchemist, Haikyuu!!. Planning (no more than 2 fics): My Hero Academia. Retired: Attack on Titan.
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Common & Recurring Content Tags:
post-time skip | post-canon | non-linear storytelling | profanity | angst | fluff | slice of life | alcohol | alcohol use | grief | depression | anxiety | hurt/comfort | pining | friends to lovers | idiots to lovers | confession | miscommunication | domesticity | soulmates (if you squint) | not quite love at first sight | california
Recurring Smut Content Tags:
unprotected sex | creampie | orgasm denial | orgasm control | overstimulation | vanilla sex | domestic sex | switches | D/s | oral sex | vaginal fingering | anal fingering | semi-public sex | voyeurism | exhibitionism | degradation kink | praise kink | impact play | biting | breath play | corruption kink | sex under the influence
Dark Content Content Tags:
yandere | dubcon | violence | murder | abuse | kidnapping | mind/mood-altering substances | stalking | obsessive behavior | possessive behavior | mentions of sexual assault | war | addiction | monsters**
*= these lists are not exhaustive **= monsters may include vampires, demons, and dragons.
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Blog Tags:
#📨.incoming
#📖.ix recs
#🔖.to read later
#✒.ix writes
#.get to know the author
#x:ix (ramblings)
#kzx, #jiji (self-ship)
#x:m (manga panels & meta)
#📌.!! (blog upkeep)
#web weave
#reminder
Fandom Tags:
#🏐.haikyuu!!
#⚾.daiya no ace
#🏀.knb
#💥.bnha
#8️⃣.kn8
#🥔.snk
#🐼.jjk
#🦾.fma
#🔥.ens
#🚬.psychopass
#🚪.csm
#frieren.🌼
#🍎.ffxvi
#bg3.🎮
#witcher.🎮
#sdv.🎮
#rdr2.🎮
#ffvii.🎮
#hades.🎮
Story Inspiration Tags:
#insp
#bll » Bittersweet Lotus Leaf | Miyuki/Reader
#pwe » Promises We Exchanged | Miyuki/Reader
#ctb » Cross This Boundary | Miyuki/Reader
#pwm » Play with Me | Kuramochi/Reader
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Last Updated: 8 Apr 2024
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wholschad · 2 years
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It’s a crime that there are only 37 kn8 fics on ao3 - AND ONE OF THEM IS LITERALLY UNDERAGE BE@STIALITY ?!?!?!
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manticoreflame · 2 years
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oh dear god kn8 shouldn't become popular then I'll have to deal with incest pedo x reader fics
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suguwu · 2 years
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BEE! you're the only one i know who's read kaiju no.8 and i NEED to know if there are any reader inserts for hoshina because i cannot for the life of me find any on here or ao3.
ARYA omg hi you have returned!!!! alas i do not know of any x readers for hoshina, which is quite frankly a CRIME >:( i do know about x readers for narumi (by @/melremade) that are delicious but i've never seen any others! which again—crime. and tragic.
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mangostarjam · 1 month
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sparring accidents — kaiju no. 8, fluff, kissing, hoshina soshiro x female reader, use of "sweetheart" as a pet name, 1.3k words — part one and two
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"Did you… get a haircut?" 
Your Vice Captain — no. Your boyfriend — freezes in the act of reaching out to tug you closer, one calloused hand wrapped around your wrist loosely. 
"... No?" 
You peer up at him. "It looks like you got a haircut. Your bangs are kinda… choppy? What the heck?" 
Hoshina Soshiro finishes tugging you closer and basks in the easy grin you flash at him, relaxing in your presence as he smiles back. "Wanna check?" 
He's teasing. Soshiro likes the way you get flustered when he does things like this — when he gets into your personal space and invites you into his, when he navigates the new lines around your relationship and you draw some of your own. 
For instance: pulling you closer? Perfectly okay, except when in front of the Captain or any higher ups, because you get worried they'll transfer you to another platoon. Any public displays of affection in front of higher ups are actually off the table entirely. In fact Soshiro sometimes wonders if Captain Ashiro even knows the two of you are dating. 
In front of the others, though, you don't mind the occasional hand touch or his arm draped across the back of your chair. You seem to have a thing for touching his biceps, too — your hands always seem to drift towards them when you're passing him in the halls or tugging him closer to look at something on your computer screen. 
And if both of you are off duty, you'll hold his hand freely. Soshiro likes that the most. You've gotten so comfortable with it, too — reaching back somewhat blindly for his hand, always knowing he'll lace his fingers with yours as soon as he notices, even when he's watching the way your eyes light up over some new book on display or a new dessert you want to share with him. 
It makes his chest ache something fierce, thinking about that trust that he'll be there to hold your hand. 
Man, he really likes you. 
"You'll have to bend a little if you want me to check," you say dubiously, and Soshiro laughs. 
"Need a lift, sweetheart?" 
"Don't you dare," you say flatly, stretching up on tiptoes and cupping his face in your hands. 
The movement brings your face very close to his face, but before he can even glance at your lips you've tugged his head down. You hum as you examine his hair, flipping the strands this way and that, and Soshiro pretends like his heart rate is normal. 
"What's the verdict?" 
"It looks like you got a silly uneven haircut while sparring. Were you guys using real blades?" You drop back on your heels, but your hands drift down to rest on his shoulders and he clears his throat nervously at the way your chest brushes against his — you're standing so close. 
The study room isn't empty. Soshiro can hear officers nearby, the shuffling of papers, the gentle ribbing between teammates. He found you among the shelves, though, and nobody's close enough to see him settle his hands on the gentle dip of your waist beneath your lab coat. 
"You think my hair looks silly?" 
He doesn't keep the pout from his voice, and he's rewarded when you giggle and lean closer. His thumbs rub soothingly along your shirt and skirt, basking in the warmth of you so close to him. 
"Hoshina-kun, don't avoid the question!" 
"Aw, alright," he sighs, "we were usin' real blades, but I swear to ya that we were bein' careful!" 
"I know you're fast, but I guess your hair wasn't fast enough to escape, too," you say. Soshiro snorts. "It's unfair, though, because even with a silly haircut you still look good." 
Your shirt is loose, untucked after the long shift. His thumbs slip beneath your shirt and rub along the bare skin of your waist. He freezes for a split second, but you just sway closer to him. You're blushing. Oh. Your chest is pushing up against his, now, and your skin is so warm and soft and — 
"Can you please kiss me already?" 
Ah. Yeah, he can do that. He can definitely do that, no problem, you've been dating for a few months now and he's been wanting to kiss you and this is a perfect time to do that since nobody's around and you're already in his arms and your hands are shoving him downwards and — 
Oh. Your lips are soft. A little chapped. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears. 
"Hoshina-kun," you pull back slightly to huff a laugh, tilting your head. Soshiro can feel your lips move against his own as you whisper and it makes his head spin. "C'mon, kiss me." 
You kiss him again and he groans, blood rushing through his body as he draws you closer, follows your lead and tilts his head, moves his lips against yours firmly as you kiss and kiss and kiss. 
You taste a little sweet, like that strawberry pocky you like to snack on. He makes a strangled sound when you part your mouth and nip softly at his bottom lip, the slight pinch going straight south in a way that'd be concerning with how closely you're pressing up against him except you just sink your fingers into the soft fluff of his hair and sigh. 
Oh, he'd do anything to hear you sigh like that again. Soshiro chases your lips when you try to pull away, snickering as you laugh and scratch at his undercut. "Someone might come by," you whisper, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. 
"I'll order them to leave," he whispers back, fingers loosening on your waist. He's left marks, probably, from how hard he was holding you, but you don't seem to mind. "We're off duty, anyway, ain't we?" 
"Yeah, but we're still at work," you point out. Your eyes are sparkling under the study room lights and you're a little breathless. Soshiro wants to memorize the way you're glowing from the inside out. "It's almost time for dinner." 
"But what about my hair?" 
Your smile tilts into something fond as you scratch at his undercut again, sliding your fingers into the silky strands further up his head. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else will notice your haircut." 
Soshiro grins. "Are you fussin' over me right now?" 
"Shut up," you say, but there's clear affection lacing through your tone. "I might've… been a little too enthusiastic. Stay still and let me fix your hair." 
He obliges, keeping his hands lightly at your waist to help you balance as you comb his purple strands back into place. The calm between the two of you is peaceful. Soshiro likes moments like these, holds them close to his heart and lets them shine in his mind's eye as he breathes before heading onto the battlefield. 
He feels your nails dig slightly into the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to kiss him again, a sweet, smiling kiss that makes him grin. "Careful, sweetheart, or we'll be here all night." 
"No way, mister," you say, "they're serving oyakodon tonight with your favorite Mont Blanc for dessert. I asked Captain Ashiro if we could get it on the menu this week." 
"For me?" Soshiro can't keep the surprise out of his voice. You tug at his collar, pulling it back into place and smoothing your hands along his shoulders and chest. Your hands are trembling, just a little bit. 
"Yeah. You've been working really hard and I thought you could use a boost." 
"Hmm," he leans down to kiss you lightly, basking in the ability to just do this now. "You're all I need for a boost, sweetheart. But thank you, I appreciate it." 
"Don't expect kisses before you go into battle," you say, but you're giggling as he leans down for another sweet kiss. He admires the sweep of your lashes against your cheeks and nearly misses your next words. "I won't be held responsible for distracting you." 
"What about as a reward?" 
Your lashes flutter and he kisses you again, warmth curling and settling deep in his chest. His jacket crumples as you clutch at him for balance and he grins back at you, soft. 
"As long as you don't come back with any weird haircuts." 
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narumi-gens · 22 days
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Happy kn8 anime premiere week 🎉🥳
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izfaish · 9 months
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i keep forgetting to shoutout my kn8 fics here BUT have a high school au ihareno fic:
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mangostarjam · 2 months
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late night confessions — kaiju no. 8, fluff, "sweetheart" as a pet name, hoshina soshiro x female reader, 1.6k words, sequel to this fic + part three
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Something is a little… off. 
You clutch your longtime crush's borrowed jacket in your hands, rumpling the fabric as you shift your weight. The door to Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro's room is shut, but you know he's in there — not that you've been… keeping tabs or anything, but he just got off duty and dinner was an hour ago so where else could he be? 
In the training rooms again, overworking — but no, he pinky promised you just this morning that he'd go to bed on time tonight. 
All you need to do is knock. One of the perks of being Vice Captain means he has his own room, so you wouldn't be disturbing anyone else. True, he didn't exactly invite you to his room today, but he's been… avoiding you. A little bit. 
Okonogi thinks it's all in your head. You confessed to her after she cornered you about your new pet name, and she's been championing your relationship developments ever since. "You don't see the way he looks at you sometimes! And didn't you just talk this morning?" 
But besides calling you "sweetheart" in public — always in that light, casual tone he uses with pretty much everyone except higher ups — Soshiro hasn't made any moves to acknowledge that night in the training room. He doesn't even stand that close to you anymore. 
That's… bad, right? What if he's changed his mind? What if he's come to realize that he doesn't want you like that — but he can't figure out how to reject you, especially not when you work so closely together — 
"Argh, this is why relationships are frowned upon in the Defense Force," you mutter, shoving your face into the jacket in your hands. 
"Huh? What're you doin' here, sweetheart?" 
Shoot. Stupid Vice Captain and his stupid light feet and the stupid doors being so well maintained you didn't even hear it open. 
"I came to return your jacket, sir." 
You hold it out and resolutely focus on his neck, directly in your line of sight. It's missing the skintight turtleneck of his fighting shirt, which means… he's in casual clothes. Your gaze dips down slightly to confirm this and… you find nothing. 
Instead, your eyes drag over miles of smooth, densely packed muscle covered by pale, scarred skin, visible reminders of the many battles he's faced and the numerous kaiju he's slayed. Oh, shit. 
You close your eyes. "I apologize, sir, I didn't mean to disturb you! Please —" 
"Aw, you're givin' it back? I liked seein' you in it." 
You feel his hands wrap around yours and peek open your eyes slowly, doing your best to keep them on his neck. Not that it's really much of a safe spot to look, when the strong column of his throat just meets the sharp cut of his jawline and before you know it you're glancing up at his lips which are… frowning. 
Why's he frowning? 
"Y-you do? Sir?" 
"Come inside, will ya?" Soshiro says, tugging you in and kicking the door shut with his foot before you can protest. "There. Now we're alone." 
He says it expectantly, raising an eyebrow when you gape at him. "S-sir?" 
Soshiro's frown deepens. The adrenaline rushing through your veins is making you jumpy, and you're sure he can feel your hands twitch in his grasp. 
"I said it was fine when we're alone, right?" 
What is he…? Oh. Oh. 
"Hoshina-kun?" 
Soshiro's frown lightens and he sighs, releasing your hands and taking the jacket. You watch, brain swirling, as he hangs it up neatly and pulls on a loose t-shirt. Silently you mourn the loss of the view, but the way his arm muscles bunch and stretch as he moves more than makes up for it. He must've just finished in the bath — he's wearing black track pants that ride low on his hips, and his hair is still a little damp. 
"Was anyone givin' you a hard time? About my jacket?" 
It takes you a second to register his words, and you shake your head quickly. "No, nobody said anything, I just… felt bad for borrowing it for so long. I thought you might want it back." 
"It wasn't that long…" 
You stare up at him. Is he… is he pouting? 
The urge to giggle bursts out before you can help it, and Soshiro's expression lightens at the sound. "You're so cute when you laugh." 
Heat burns along your cheeks. So he still thinks you're cute! All hope is not lost! "Is there… is there something bothering you, Hoshina-kun?" 
Surprise flits across his face before he smothers it down with a grin. "Now, why would ya think that? Everythin's just peachy!" 
The hum of air conditioning kicks on and fills the room with a low buzz. It's your first time inside Soshiro's room, but you aren't surprised that he keeps it neat and tidy. There's a low shelf filled with books, and his bed is made with not a wrinkle in sight. He's left the overhead light off and only flicked on the lamp at his bedside, so the corners are bathed in shadows. 
You fix him with a glare and watch with satisfaction as he gulps. You're tired of dancing around the subject, and apparently Soshiro is a master at deflection and compartmentalizing. "Don't lie to me, Hoshina-kun. You haven't been… the same, lately. Do you… Are you trying to reject me?" 
Soshiro's grin slips off his face and his red eyes widen. "So you were confessin'? That wasn't me gettin' my hopes up?" 
"Wha— what did you think it was?" you ask, flabbergasted. Is he serious right now? The furrow of his eyebrows tells you yes. "I told you that you're the only one allowed to call me a pet name! And that you stress me out! I held your hand!" 
"Well," Soshiro winces, "I know the job's stressful, so I thought it was that. And maybe you were just lettin' me call you 'sweetheart' 'cause you didn't wanna get mixed up with Okonogi. 'Sides… it was late. Maybe you just didn't wanna trip on the walk back." 
He's got his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his track pants. His shoulders are a little hunched, and he's still watching every confused and exasperated expression cross your features, but somehow you still surprise him when you take a few steps forward to cup his face in your hands. 
Your palms are warm. Your thumbs sweep along his cheekbones soothingly and he leans into the touch. "I really, really like you, Hoshina-kun." 
"You do? Even though I'm only good with blades?" 
You squish his cheeks in surprise. "How is that even relevant?" 
Soshiro reaches up to pull your hands away from his face so that he can speak. "I was just thinkin'... I know I've got my work cut out for me, choosin' this path of mine, but that doesn't mean you've gotta walk it, too. You could pick anyone else — a civilian, so you don't hafta worry 'bout them riskin' their lives, or another Defense Force member who can actually use a gun —" 
"Hoshina Soshiro," you say firmly. His eyes widen in surprise, but he stops talking. "Begging your pardon, Vice Captain, sir, but please shut up. I like you for a whole bunch of reasons, and you don't get to decide that I should choose someone else just because you're feeling self conscious." 
"Even if I've got beady eyes and a bowl cut?" 
"I'm going to kick Captain Narumi's ass the next time we visit the First Division," you grumble, but a corner of your mouth lifts as Soshiro laughs. Man, just watching him laugh makes your stomach swoop. "You know I think you're hot, right?" 
"Whuh?" 
"Did you seriously not notice me trying not to check you out like five minutes ago?" 
"Y-you were? Wow, I've got one cute admirer." 
You drop his hands and sink into a crouch, burying your face into your arms with a muffled groan. Now that the issues have been aired out, you can feel your adrenaline leaving you in a rush. Soshiro goes down on his knees an instant later, hitting the floor with a thunk, yanking your arms free so that you're facing him properly. "Hold on, sweetheart, what was that?" 
"Hoshina-kun, do you like me?" 
Soshiro's face turns charmingly pink. You want to take that as a "yes", but you wait as he sits back on his heels and scratches at the side of his face. "Ain't it obvious?" 
You put your face in your arms again. The long ends of your lab coat are pooled around you, and Soshiro is careful to avoid pinning you in place as he leans forward to tug at your hair. The hum of the air conditioner clicks off and you sit in silence for a moment. 
"Are we dating now?" 
You lift your head to glare at him incredulously. "No." Maybe you should be nicer about this — it's clear your Vice Captain is in over his head, no matter how easily he seemed to be teasing you before. "You haven't even confessed yet!" 
There's a beat of silence, and then —
"I like you." Soshiro looks determined in spite of the redness of his ears. "I think you're funny, and cute, and brilliant. You're always supportin' me and the lil' fledglings, and you make me feel like... I exist. Even though we could die at any moment fightin' kaiju, you make me happy." Soshiro pauses and rubs at the back of his head sheepishly. "Yikes, that was kinda sappy." 
Heat burns through your body. You can't help the silly smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah? I guess we can date now." 
"Good." The hand at your hair slides forward to cup the back of your neck. Soshiro grins, his entire body unwinding with the release of tension as he leans forward. "'Cause I ain't ever givin' up my spot at your side." 
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mangostarjam · 1 month
Text
sore loser — kaiju no. 8, narumi gen x f!reader, "babe" as a petname, established relationship, suggestive, smut adjacent? aka they don't actually do it but they sure get naked, 1.5k words
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"Are you still pouting about this?" you try to catch your boyfriend's eyes in the mirror, but he avoids your gaze and slumps further into the couch.
You roll your eyes. Narumi Gen ignores you, fingers flying over his phone screen, looking annoyingly handsome in his formal dress uniform even though he's rumpling it to high hell on the couch. You debate for a second about warning him of wrinkles and then go back to putting your earrings in.
"I would've won, you know."
"Sure, Narumi-kun, but the fact remains that you didn't."
He tosses his phone aside. That, more than anything, makes you pause. Your attention-seeking boyfriend abandoning his daily ego surf? This must be serious. "I'm your boyfriend, right?"
"… Yes?"
Gen's gaze snaps to yours in the mirror as he gasps dramatically. "Hey! Why'd you hesitate, huh?"
"Because it was a stupid question." You adjust the straps of your dress and smirk to yourself as his gaze drifts lower. The setting sun is golden and hazy as it spills into his bedroom, sending shadows stretching across the floor and catching along the mess scattered underfoot. You've long given up on trying to keep it tidy, merely shoving half-opened packages aside until there are clear enough pathways to the bathroom and door and his futon.
To be fair to Gen, since you've started dating his mess has gotten substantially less… messy. That might be because the first time you stepped on something while fumbling in the dark for the bathroom, you had threatened to never sleep over again and to scatter Lego blocks all over his floor when he'd least expect it.
You have a feeling the Lego blocks were what sealed the deal.
"Baaaaabe," your boyfriend whines, hopping over to you and grabbing your hands. He shoots you a pitiful look from under his bangs, though it doesn't really work when he's taller than you and keeps shooting glances down your dress. "Why're you kicking me while I'm down? Don't I deserve a pick me up?"
"That sounds like a you problem," you snort. "Besides, we're going to be late."
"As Captain of the First Division, shouldn't I get to choose what counts as 'late'?"
You squeeze his hands, smiling reluctantly at his declaration. He's so silly sometimes. "I don't want Hasegawa-san walking in on us again, okay?"
Gen's smirk spells trouble. He leans down a little until your noses brush. His sudden proximity makes your breath catch in your throat as his body heat seeps into your bare skin. "Oh? And what would he be walking in on, hm?"
"Just a little something to make you feel better after losing to Captain Ashiro today," you smile sweetly, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He chases your lips as you settle back on your heels, hands spanning your waist and pinning you against the mirror as he kisses you again.
It's so easy kissing Gen. His lips are soft but his kisses are bruising, all-encompassing and hot, a drumbeat beneath your skin. His lips move against yours like he's passing along secrets, messages that can only be transferred through his tongue licking into the depths of your mouth, and you find yourself clinging to his broad shoulders and wrinkling the fabric there even more.
"I like these earrings on you," he breathes, his hand smoothing up your back to flick one of the dangling strands. His other hand drifts lower and you squeak when he gives your ass a squeeze. "And this dress. You sure we've gotta go to this stuffy shindig?"
You fiddle with the button of his formal dress jacket as you pretend to think about it.
Gen tilts his head up so you can secure the high collar, waiting somewhat impatiently for your answer. You drag your fingers along his cheek, passing lightly over the bags under his eyes. He works hard, your captain, even if he acts like an idiot most of the time. "You'll be missed if we don't," you point out.
"Can't I eat you out first?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Gen!" you laugh, but your thighs clench as heat pools in your core. "Absolutely not. Even if Captain Ashiro kicked your ass in long distance shooting, you still need to show up to the ceremony! Besides, what about all your other titles? Don't you want to stand up there and show off your awards?"
"Nah, who cares about that stuff, anyway?"
You eye your boyfriend's pout. What a fucking lie. "Is this because of the bet?"
Gen doesn't look at you, but his hands settle on your hips. "No."
"I never would've thought the First Division Captain would be a sore loser."
"I'm not a loser," he shoots back immediately, "I'm the best. And all of those guys know it, too!"
You hum in what could be considered agreement, except there's a glint in your eye that makes Gen frown. He knew what he was getting into when he first asked you out — you, the newest engineer trained specially in Numbers weapons, well known throughout Japan for devising ways to lessen the strain on compatible users. You had come to the First Division to tweak Numbers Weapon One and and only stayed to make it your home base after Gen finally got you to date him.
And even after dating you for so long — after learning your likes and dislikes and the little quirks he associates with you — you still manage to keep him on his toes. You're easily his longest lasting and most serious relationship, and he has a feeling he's going to give you the rest of his life, too, because nobody else has ever come close to making him feel the way you do.
"It won't be that bad," you brush his hair out of his eyes and smile when he leans into the touch. "I'm sure Vice Captain Hoshina won't gloat that much, since we all knew you'd lose to Captain Ashiro. And you'll probably still look hot with your hair dyed another color."
"What — of course I'd still be hot but — wait, how did you know that?"
You raise an eyebrow. "I have my sources."
Gen's eyes narrow as he searches your face. "Don't tell me… you're still friends with that bowl cut bastard?!"
"I've known him for longer than I've known you, you know."
"Yeah, but you're my girlfriend!" Gen's fingers tighten around your waist, but it's not uncomfortable. He's always surprisingly careful with you, and the gesture warms your heart even as your brow twitches with annoyance.
"Don't be stupid," you tug a little harshly on his ear and smirk when he yelps in surprise. "He's letting me choose what color you'll dye your hair, but I'm not letting you have an opinion about it unless you can guess the color of my panties tonight."
Gen's eyes gleam in the mirror's reflected sunset and his lips curl into a smirk that tells you he's forgotten about protesting your friendship with the Third Division Vice Captain. "Do I get a hint?"
"You already got one earlier," you say primly, grabbing his hands and bringing them to his own hips. "Now hands to yourself, loverboy. We've got an awards ceremony to attend."
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It isn't until much, much later that evening — once you're back in his room and he's shed his formal dress uniform jacket and shirt — that you take pity on him. He'd made guesses all night, whispering random colors and patterns in your ear between speeches, making you giggle into your sparkling cider while he watched with a grin on his face.
"Do you give up yet?" you ask, reaching for his belt buckle and leaning up for another deep kiss. Gen groans into your mouth, pressing you back into his futon as you arch up into him. His hand is hot against the soft plush of your thigh, a stark contrast to the silky fabric he's slowly drawing upwards.
"White with pink peaches," he mumbles, smiling into the kiss when you laugh.
"I don't even have a pair like that, Gen," you remind him. His hand pauses halfway up your thigh and skips up to your waist, the fabric bunching as he pulls you into him. Your legs fall apart to let him settle between them, but your dress is still blocking his view.
"I'll get you a pair like that," he says roughly, nipping at your neck just to hear you moan. "I'll get you all of 'em. You'll look hot as hell."
You've managed to shove his pants and briefs halfway off his hips and he quickly kicks them the rest of the way off, so the wet tip of his hard cock smears along the inside of your thigh as he settles. You hold your breath as he shifts, blinking slowly when his cock catches along your wet slit and he stills.
Gen's eyes are wide. You can't help but grin up at him as his jaw works.
"Isn't that cheating?" he huffs.
"I hope you don't mind rainbow colored hair."
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mangostarjam · 1 month
Text
welcome home — jjk, gojo satoru x female reader, suggestive, established fake relationship, "baby" as a pet name, 1.4k words
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The door clicks open and you shuffle inside. You toe off your shoes, set your bag on the small table Satoru got the other day for the genkan, and shut the door behind you. 
It's quiet. 
Disappointment creeps through you as you slump further into the apartment. Normally the quiet would be welcome — cherished, even, after the endless loud bustle of the day — but your ears strain for any hint of Satoru moving about, humming some annoying song under his breath or maybe watching another terrible movie. 
The apartment is empty, save for you. Your sigh is loud and gusty as you flop onto the couch, legs dangling halfway off the side as you fling your arms up to cover your face. Maybe a nap would help. Your phone hasn't lit up with any notifications in the past hour so Satoru probably is busy doing his actual job, supervising his students or giving them a lesson or something. 
He's probably excited about it — wearing that wide, stupid grin that crooks up just a bit on one side, large hands carving nonsense through the air as he chatters away. You frown at the ceiling and shift a little on the couch. Satoru's always so annoyingly hot, and you know your imagination isn't doing him any justice, but picturing the proud set of his shoulders as his students answer things correctly is making your heart squeeze in your chest. 
This is stupid. You swing yourself upright and make your way to your room to grab a change of clothes and hop in the shower. It's stupid, stupid, stupid — you've had long days before, plenty of them in your twenty plus years, and you know how to take care of yourself. You don't need Satoru's stupid long arms and aggravatingly firm chest to crush you like a stress ball. 
The shower steam follows you out of the bathroom as you hum to yourself, feeling marginally better and a little hungry. Next step: dinner. 
You wonder if Satoru will be home for dinner. He'll usually tell you in advance if he's going out of town for any reason, but it's always possible that some disaster has struck and he's been summoned away before he got a chance to let you know. 
You pause as you scoop a cup full of rice grains into the pot. That would… suck. And maybe it's selfish of you, but surely he could teleport home real quick just to tell you and get his good luck kisses? 
Not that he needs them, even if he always insists on them now that the two of you have been kissing more regularly. You tell yourself that it's good — it's good to practice the kissing, and the touching, so he doesn't freeze up again if you initiate very light PDA in front of your friends. 
This fake dating thing is a lot of work. 
Actually, that's a lie. Being with Satoru is easy — maybe a little scarily so, with how quickly he's wiggled his way into the seams and stitches of your life — but the pretending? That's hard.
You're tired. Water runs over your fingers as you rinse the rice grains. Maybe you don't need a hug, but it would be really nice to get one. 
"Honey, I'm hooome!" 
You set the rice cooker to cook and turn just as Satoru steps into the kitchen, a wide smile on his face as he crowds you back into the counter. 
"What happened to using the front door?" you ask, ignoring the way your heart stutters in your chest as he leans over you. Cypress and fresh air and Gojo Satoru fills your senses, his warmth seeping into you as his palms meet the counter on either side of you. "The neighbors are gonna talk." 
"I wanted to get back faster," Satoru pouts. He leans down, clearly angling for something, and you pretend not to notice. "Did you miss me?" 
"We were just talking a few hours ago," you point out, raising an eyebrow. You put your hands up to keep him from pushing you any further, but the instant your palms meet his chest you can't help it — you slide them up, looping them around his neck and dragging him down, as natural and instinctive as breathing. 
Satoru smiles as you kiss. You can feel his lips curving irrepressibly even as you try to kiss him, as you lick into his mouth and stretch up on tiptoes to get closer, sinking one of your hands into his fluffy white hair and shoving his headband out of the way. 
He huffs out a laugh when you pull away with a light tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Annoying bastard. "Gojo, what the hell —" 
Satoru dips down again and catches your complaint with his mouth, kissing you properly this time, melting you into his stupidly perfect arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He breaks away just a breath to tsk. "It's 'Satoru', remember?" 
"Shut up, Satoru," you grumble. Your hand drags down from his neck to grip at his bicep and a bolt of heat lances through you, but you just lean up to kiss the stupid smirk off his pretty face. "Welcome home." 
His hair is a mess, sticking up every which way with his headband caught in the strands, so you yank it off entirely and grin as the silvery strands fall into his eyes. He shakes his hair into place with a fond smile, his brilliant blue eyes soft and warm as he tugs you impossibly closer. "You did miss me!" 
"Shut up, Satoru," you say, but there's no bite to it and he laughs. "It was a long day, okay? How was yours?" 
"Hmm? I wanna hear about yours first. C'mon, tell me. I'll make dinner." 
You snort. "All you have to do is heat up the leftover tonkatsu. I started the rice already." 
"Great, so we have more time for kissing practice!" 
"Uh, I guess? Ah — Satoru, wait —" 
"Tell me about your day," he murmurs, lips pressed to the skin right below your ear. You can feel his smirk against your neck as he moves, kissing you slowly and carefully, mapping out every sensitive and delicate piece of you. "I want to know everything." 
Satoru is warm and solid and firm against you, the hard planes of muscle hidden under his loose clothing revealed in every shift of his body against your own. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, clinging to him even as you try to muster the strength to push him away. But every minute flex of his muscles beneath your fingers makes your knees weak and every light suck and nibble along your neck is making you dizzy and — this is so unfair. 
"Satoru, S-ah!" You jerk in his hold as he latches onto a particularly sensitive part of your neck and he grunts, rolling his hips against yours with a terrifying fluidity. You whimper in spite of yourself at the hot, hard press of him against the space where warmth is pooling alarmingly quickly. God, he — he's so stupidly hot — but you haven't gone any further than kissing, haven't talked about boundaries and how far he's willing to go as your fake boyfriend — and your conscience is yelling at you to let him go but his teeth nip at your skin and you nearly sob as the sensation travels directly down to your clit. 
Fuck. 
"Satoru, stop." 
He stops immediately, pulling back and blinking down at you with a hazy, fucked out expression that does nothing to help the ache in your gut. You stare at him, a little annoyed that he looks so good like this, because of course he does. 
"What's wrong?" he asks, a little breathlessly. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I —" 
"No, no," your hands grip at his sleeves, keeping him close though he's made only the barest of movements to step back, "I'm not hurt, but — Satoru, isn't this… too much?"
Steam is whistling out behind him, though you can barely see with his broad shoulders blocking the light. The pleasant scent of cooked rice begins to fill the air. "Too much?" he repeats. The chuckle he lets out is a little strangled. "Sorry, sorry. I just. Didn't know you could sound like that."
"Let's… eat dinner."
Satoru's eyes are bright. "Sure, baby." Your face heats incriminatingly at the endearment. "I missed you, too, y'know."
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