all interactions come from @mewnbuns — minors and ageless blogs dni (you will be blocked) contains nsfw + sfw content all characters are aged up to over twenty!
current status. younger brother pilled … zanka + itoshi rin dni ⚠️
mlists. blue lock ⋆ gachiakuta ⋆ bsd ⋆ haikyuu
most recent. footjobs, zanka nijiku x fem!reader
★ ongoing series: nothing is ever really lost, itoshi rin x ghost! reader
⸺ ⟢ contents. itoshi rin x fem reader. aged up characters ( 20+ ). you give rin a handjob while in first class on a flight. exhibitionism. i have no idea what the freak came over me.
⸺ ⟢ wc. 2.6k words.
Rin was a man of quiet luxury.
He wasn’t the type to outwardly flaunt the paycheck that came along with a professional football career by traditional means, he never bothered much with flashy designer suits or lavish parties like others he knew.
But Rin wasn’t above splurging on the things that he felt mattered; fancy hotel suites on vacations, high-class restaurants for date nights, and more often than not, first class seats whenever you both had a long haul flight ahead. It was his own way of giving back or even going as far as to spoil you, by most standards Rin was a pretty shitty traditional gift giver, so he hoped that being able to provide you with a lifestyle like this would be just as valuable.
And indeed it was, especially when it came to visiting his home.
The flight back to Japan usually verged over the ten hour mark from most places, and considering you and Rin have just spent the best part of off-season in some fancy beach resort abroad, you know the journey back is going to feel much longer than normal. Which is why you’re feeling incredibly thankful right now as you slink back into the reclining seat of your private, first-class cubicle with Rin.
For the most part, the plane around you both remains quiet. One of the many perks of flying by the blessing of Rin’s bank account, so it’s easy for you to get yourself comfy next to him. The flight attendant had passed by earlier, letting you know that your next meal is due to be served in the next hour but since then you’ve just been busying yourself by working your way through the catalogue of movies on the little screen imbedded in front of you.
Rin’s been asleep by your side a while, he pulled a sleep mask over his eyes to hide himself from the light and then knocked out fairly quickly. He was a peaceful sleeper, didn’t move much or even make much noise for that matter, but he hadn’t roused when you’d cuddled yourself into his side and that’s how you knew he was still out cold.
You’re resting your head on his shoulder, a shared blanket resting over both of you while you blink at the movie on the screen, and your finger traces absentmindedly along his abdomen as you watch. That’s how it’s been for the past two or three hours, and as comfortable as you are it’s gotten to point where your brain is in need of a little enrichment, so that’s what ultimately encourages you to finally decide to wake him.
Well, that and the imminent meal you’re about to enjoy.
You tilt your head a bit more onto Rin’s shoulder, feeling the lean muscle shift beneath your weight and you angle yourself in a way that lets you blink up at him. His hair is a little messy from the seat, but he looks so serene and relaxed from what you can see that you almost feel bad for waking him.
“Rin?” You say after a beat of admiration, voice gentle and coaxing, and Rin was light enough a sleeper than it seems to rouse him immediately.
“Hm?” He shifts.
“We’re eating soon.” You say, rubbing at his chest now. “You’ll miss it.”
He doesn’t complain too much, doesn’t really say much at all apart from the odd sleepy squeak as he stretches himself out a bit. His fingers ease under the the elastic of the sleep mask and he pulls it off in one smooth motion, his eyes squinting slightly as he readjusts to the new found light.
But then fairly quickly, they’re on you, blinking drowsily.
“Did you sleep well?” You ask, finger continuing to trace his abdomen in soothing movements.
Rin wasn’t much of a talker when it came to just waking up, but he answers your question with a nod of his head. You think it’s cute actually, how peaceful he always seems; it’s a stark comparison to how he looks on the field, or when his friends are teasing him. He’s like a little kitten in these moments, and you can’t resist the urge to reach out and smooth his hair down with your fingers, his at-ease state emphasised in the way he just lets you.
“Are you hungry?” You ask again after a few more seconds of brushing your hands through Rin’s hair, and this time he shifts himself in his seat before actually answering.
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be here soon.” You respond and he just blinks at you, all soft and still flushed from sleep. It makes you just want to squish at his cheeks or kiss him all over, but after a few more moments of playing with Rin’s hair you opt to rest your hand back down on his stomach instead.
“You’re so cute like this.” You laugh, brushing your palm along the toned muscles in big motions.
It makes Rin’s drowsy gaze blink at you before a pout rests on his features, “I’m not.”
“Are too.”
“Stop.” He grumbles, teetering on a whine before he’s shifting with his voice. He’s just trying to get comfy again, but when he moves you let your hand absentmindedly drop down to his hips and that’s when you feel it.
Rin seems to feel it too considering how quickly his body freezes in his seat.
You give him a look for a few drawn out seconds, and you can tell by the way he’s suddenly paying so much attention to the movie on the screen, along with the flush on the tips of his ears, that he’s deliberately trying not to meet your gaze. So your hand just rests on the outline of his hard cock in his sweats without moving.
“It’s your fault,” Rin mutters after a moment, frowning at the screen. “You’re touching me weird.”
It almost makes you laugh, “I’m hardly touching you at all.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still touching me.”
“Okay, I’ll stop touching you then.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Rin’s quick to respond when you go to pull your hand away from him, as much as he knows that’s exactly what you want him to say. He flushes a bit more, “You can touch me.”
You listen though, but instead of resting your hand back on his abdomen, you let it crawl back down to the place over his cock. It’s concealed enough by the blanket over his lap where anyone else in first class who walked past wouldn’t be able to see it, but then again, you doubt anyone’s nosey enough to go looking into other people’s cubicles anyway.
Or so you hope.
Your eyes narrow at the side of Rin’s pretty profile, and as if he can feel your attention on him, his body rewards you with a twitch.
“Isn’t this making it worse? Since me touching you is such a big deal.” You say, carefully purring out your words in a way that has Rin biting on the inside of his cheek.
He tries to calm his frustration with a shrug, “Just ignore it.” He says, eyes forward. “It’s not a big deal. You’re just being deliberately stupid.”
“You’re grumpy after your nap, Rin.” You huff, twisting yourself more into Rin’s shoulder but you still wriggle in a bit closer as you mourn the sleepy, peaceful attitude he had a few moments ago.
“I’m not.” He grits back after a few beats, but then a few seconds later he mutters out a quiet little “Sorry.” anyway.
It makes you giggle, all soft and affectionate with your hand still resting on his cock.
“I forgive you.”
You sit like that for a few moments longer, but as if you find yourself getting a bit restless again you begin to move your hands. It’s not deliberate, not at first atleast but you begin slowly. Your hand shifts beneath the fabric of the blanket over Rin’s lap, and you feel his body go rigid at your side— your fingers grazing soft and nimble touches up the sensitive outline of his cock in his sweats.
He exhales a sigh at first, one that’s most likely half-pleasure and half-irritation, but when you finally give his bulge a little squeeze you notice the way he has to strain himself to sit still.
“Don’t.” Rin’s eyes finally dart to you again, his jaw clenching tighter with every touch of your fingertips. “Not here.”
Your lips pout out, “What will you do about it then?”
“I’ll just think of shitty stuff and it’ll go away on its own, it’s fine.”
“But it’s so hard.” You speak quietly up at Rin, but loud enough for him to hear and your voice takes a whispery sort of whine. One that’s saccharine and convincing while one of your fingers trace around the outline of his sensitive tip. “It must be so uncomfortable.”
“You’re not making it better.”
“I’m not even doing anything.” You flutter your lashes, faux innocence stored away in your pout and he sees right through it.
“Stop making that face.”
“This is just my face.”
“It’s not.” Rin’s cock twitches again, as if it’s got a mind of its own and you can’t help the way your smile tilts up into something smug. His cheeks flush red, but you do him the honour of wrapping your hand around him anyway, giving the thick shaft a squeeze for his patience.
“If you want me to help, you only have to ask me.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Really?” You drawl out the word, shifting in close until your lips graze his jawline and Rin has to grit his teeth to make sure he doesn’t let a sound slip.
“Don’t move so much.” He huffs, hips quivering beneath the next silky trace of your hands across his lap and Rin fists at the blanket over his lap as he rises into it. He’s always been so responsive and sensitive to your touches, and it seems even being surrounded by a whole plane of people is no exception to that fact.
“Do you think you can be quiet?” You ask again, low and breathy this time as you deliberately exhale the words across Rin’s throat, and you watch goosebumps burst along the flesh.
He swallows, “Yeah.”
And this time you don’t respond, not with words anyway, but with the swift motion of your hand drawing back enough to push down the waistband of Rin’s sweats. You know it’s risky, considering the fact you know dinner will be arriving soon, not to mention there’s a whole cabin of people just outside of your barely concealed cubicle. But when your hands wrap around the shaft of Rin’s cock and give him a squeeze you don’t feel like caring about anything else.
You start slow, with barely there, subtle strokes of your palm that go mostly unnoticed behind the concealment of the blanket but you think if anything, Rin would be the one to give it away. His head is resting back against his seat again, hair probably messier now than it was when he first woke up but his eyes are squeezed closed, his cheeks are bright red and his hands are almost curling fists into the sides of his seat.
It makes you grin to yourself, how easy it is to draw pleasure out of him. He almost melts with the next stroke of your palm, his whole body shuddering with each languid pull of your wrist and he has to bite down on his lower lip to make sure he doesn’t moan.
“Feel better already?” You ask, emphasising the question by dragging your fist up over the length of his cock. You roll your thumb along the blunt tip in slow circles, swiping over the beads of precum that gather there before smearing it along the sensitive nerves.
You don’t miss the way it earns you a sharp look. “Don’t tease.”
“Answer my question then.”
Rin swallows, but he nods. “Go slower.” He says after a breath, his voice uneven, low and ragged. But you listen, and his hips jerk involuntarily when you slow your pace down into long, heavy strokes, still trying your best not to make the motion too obvious to anyone who might walk by.
“Like that?” You say, continuing to jerk him off with silky twists of your wrist. You give his cock another unhurried, soothing pull of your palm and as if by instinct his hips thrust up to follow it.
“Shit, yeah.” Rin grits his teeth, head rolling back. “Fuck, like that. Keep doing that.”
“People are gonna hear you.”
“Shutup, they won’t.”
They might, you think. You don’t know if Rin can hear it yet— the roll out of your meal, the wheels on the cart that the flight attendants are pushing just a few rows up. If he does, he doesn’t call it out— and if he doesn’t, you don’t feel like interrupting his bliss.
So you keep at it, finding a pace that’s slow and saccharine, until Rin’s back is arching against his seat and his hands are fisting at the blanket over his lap, clawing at his thighs. His cock throbs in your hold as you continue to stroke at him, every shuddering squeeze of your palm leaving him desperate as he chases the next, pre-cum smearing all along the inside of his sweats.
Rin turns to look at you again, with bleary eyes and parted lips, flushed right down the collar of his sweatshirt and you give him a smile while continuing to pump his cock beneath the blanket, offering him an expectant look.
“Kiss me.” Rin huffs, rolling his hips into your fist again and you’re thankful for the natural sounds of the plane around you, the steady hum doing wonders to drown out the faint, rhythmic, wet sounds that are beginning to echo from your little first class cubicle.
You don’t give in the first time, but Rin’s too caught up in his pleasure to be mad about it. So he asks again, cock twitching and thickening against your palm.
“I’m close, fuck— kiss me.”
This time you do, even if it’s only to quiet the growing volume of Rin’s voice as he cums with a low, muffled growl against your lips. Your mouth crashes into his, and Rin grabs your face in his hands as he drinks you up eagerly, pressing his tongue hard against yours as the first streak of his load begins to drip down your fingertips. His whole body feels like it shakes, and every shudder and stutter of his hips no doubt ruins the luxury fabric of the aircraft blanket as he makes a mess of his lap and sweats.
But after a few more slow, long pulls of your palm he finally settles, and he leaves you with a few more lingering pecks as he squeezes at your cheeks. His hand continues to stroke back and forth over your skin as he tries to catch his breath.
“Better now?” You ask when Rin finally pulls away, trying hard not to giggle at the flustered look on his face.
But when he finally opens his mouth to respond, no doubt with something sharp, there’s a faint knock on the outside of the cubicle that makes you both jump. The sound is closely followed by the smiling face of the attendant as she peers into your little space.
“Are you ready for your meal?” She asks kindly, and if she notices the mess of you both she doesn’t say anything. But still, you nod your head towards Rin first, and try not to make any movements that may be too obvious when you pull back your cum-soiled hand back from beneath your boyfriend’s ruined sweats.
It’s always swift, the way that Enjin takes a cigarette out of his pack. It’s like the movement has been memorised, no matter the brand or the weather. He takes it out in the exact same way, same efficiency— hands you it flipped upside down in the same way too.
“Make a wish.” Enjin hums wearing that same smirk, “A good one. don’t tell me.”
You glance at him then to the cigarette carefully flipped between two of his tattooed fingers and then back up at him.
But you think on it, and you watch the way Enjin’s lips stretch into a lazier, handsome sort of smile as he watches you. You’re silent for a moment, then two, and then you lean down to press a quick peck against the base of the cigarette with a nod.
“Done.”
Enjin hums at that, seemingly pleased and then places the same base between his lips with a mumbled “Nice.”
He hands you the lighter after that, like it’s the next part of his careful routine and when you roll your thumb over the engravings on the side of the metal you meet his eyes again.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask, then spark him a light. His body leans down into it and he takes a long drag as the cigarette catches.
“What?”
“That.”
He’s back to full height by the next one, eyeing you. You might even assume he’s ignoring you but when he breathes his next lungful of smoke in the other direction and tilts his head as if to pretend he’s in contemplative thought you know he heard you.
“Makes it taste better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Enjin’s grinning again, like he’s laughing at an inside joke you’re not in on. “What? You expect something more exciting?”
“That’s really the reason?” You can’t help but ask again, and this time it’s answered by the weight of Enjin’s palm laying flat against your head. It’s warm and huge and certain, rustling affectionately at your hair and you’ve got half a mind to bat him off of there but for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you don’t.
Because there’s a glint of something behind his features, a warmth. Barely recognisable but for you it’s unmistakable and always felt. Enjin looks at you as if he’s taken back by something for a moment when you blink up at him, but then his expression is back to his usual one and he takes another drag.
A little lazy, aloof. He shrugs then exhales away from you, “Eh, something like that.”
It’s always swift, the way that Enjin takes a cigarette out of his pack. It’s like the movement has been memorised, no matter the brand or the weather. He takes it out in the exact same way, same efficiency— hands you it flipped upside down in the same way too.
“Make a wish.” Enjin hums wearing that same smirk, “A good one. don’t tell me.”
You glance at him then to the cigarette carefully flipped between two of his tattooed fingers and then back up at him.
But you think on it, and you watch the way Enjin’s lips stretch into a lazier, handsome sort of smile as he watches you. You’re silent for a moment, then two, and then you lean down to press a quick peck against the base of the cigarette with a nod.
“Done.”
Enjin hums at that, seemingly pleased and then places the same base between his lips with a mumbled “Nice.”
He hands you the lighter after that, like it’s the next part of his careful routine and when you roll your thumb over the engravings on the side of the metal you meet his eyes again.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask, then spark him a light. His body leans down into it and he takes a long drag as the cigarette catches.
“What?”
“That.”
He’s back to full height by the next one, eyeing you. You might even assume he’s ignoring you but when he breathes his next lungful of smoke in the other direction and tilts his head as if to pretend he’s in contemplative thought you know he heard you.
“Makes it taste better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Enjin’s grinning again, like he’s laughing at an inside joke you’re not in on. “What? You expect something more exciting?”
“That’s really the reason?” You can’t help but ask again, and this time it’s answered by the weight of Enjin’s palm laying flat against your head. It’s warm and huge and certain, rustling affectionately at your hair and you’ve got half a mind to bat him off of there but for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you don’t.
Because there’s a glint of something behind his features, a warmth. Barely recognisable but for you it’s unmistakable and always felt. Enjin looks at you as if he’s taken back by something for a moment when you blink up at him, but then his expression is back to his usual one and he takes another drag.
A little lazy, aloof. He shrugs then exhales away from you, “Eh, something like that.”
It’s always swift, the way that Enjin takes a cigarette out of his pack. It’s like the movement has been memorised, no matter the brand or the weather. He takes it out in the exact same way, same efficiency— hands you it flipped upside down in the same way too.
“Make a wish.” Enjin hums wearing that same smirk, “A good one. don’t tell me.”
You glance at him then to the cigarette carefully flipped between two of his tattooed fingers and then back up at him.
But you think on it, and you watch the way Enjin’s lips stretch into a lazier, handsome sort of smile as he watches you. You’re silent for a moment, then two, and then you lean down to press a quick peck against the base of the cigarette with a nod.
“Done.”
Enjin hums at that, seemingly pleased and then places the same base between his lips with a mumbled “Nice.”
He hands you the lighter after that, like it’s the next part of his careful routine and when you roll your thumb over the engravings on the side of the metal you meet his eyes again.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask, then spark him a light. His body leans down into it and he takes a long drag as the cigarette catches.
“What?”
“That.”
He’s back to full height by the next one, eyeing you. You might even assume he’s ignoring you but when he breathes his next lungful of smoke in the other direction and tilts his head as if to pretend he’s in contemplative thought you know he heard you.
“Makes it taste better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Enjin’s grinning again, like he’s laughing at an inside joke you’re not in on. “What? You expect something more exciting?”
“That’s really the reason?” You can’t help but ask again, and this time it’s answered by the weight of Enjin’s palm laying flat against your head. It’s warm and huge and certain, rustling affectionately at your hair and you’ve got half a mind to bat him off of there but for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you don’t.
Because there’s a glint of something behind his features, a warmth. Barely recognisable but for you it’s unmistakable and always felt. Enjin looks at you as if he’s taken back by something for a moment when you blink up at him, but then his expression is back to his usual one and he takes another drag.
A little lazy, aloof. He shrugs then exhales away from you, “Eh, something like that.”
It’s always swift, the way that Enjin takes a cigarette out of his pack. It’s like the movement has been memorised, no matter the brand or the weather. He takes it out in the exact same way, same efficiency— hands you it flipped upside down in the same way too.
“Make a wish.” Enjin hums wearing that same smirk, “A good one. don’t tell me.”
You glance at him then to the cigarette carefully flipped between two of his tattooed fingers and then back up at him.
But you think on it, and you watch the way Enjin’s lips stretch into a lazier, handsome sort of smile as he watches you. You’re silent for a moment, then two, and then you lean down to press a quick peck against the base of the cigarette with a nod.
“Done.”
Enjin hums at that, seemingly pleased and then places the same base between his lips with a mumbled “Nice.”
He hands you the lighter after that, like it’s the next part of his careful routine and when you roll your thumb over the engravings on the side of the metal you meet his eyes again.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask, then spark him a light. His body leans down into it and he takes a long drag as the cigarette catches.
“What?”
“That.”
He’s back to full height by the next one, eyeing you. You might even assume he’s ignoring you but when he breathes his next lungful of smoke in the other direction and tilts his head as if to pretend he’s in contemplative thought you know he heard you.
“Makes it taste better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Enjin’s grinning again, like he’s laughing at an inside joke you’re not in on. “What? You expect something more exciting?”
“That’s really the reason?” You can’t help but ask again, and this time it’s answered by the weight of Enjin’s palm laying flat against your head. It’s warm and huge and certain, rustling affectionately at your hair and you’ve got half a mind to bat him off of there but for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you don’t.
Because there’s a glint of something behind his features, a warmth. Barely recognisable but for you it’s unmistakable and always felt. Enjin looks at you as if he’s taken back by something for a moment when you blink up at him, but then his expression is back to his usual one and he takes another drag.
A little lazy, aloof. He shrugs then exhales away from you, “Eh, something like that.”
It’s always swift, the way that Enjin takes a cigarette out of his pack. It’s like the movement has been memorised, no matter the brand or the weather. He takes it out in the exact same way, same efficiency— hands you it flipped upside down in the same way too.
“Make a wish.” Enjin hums wearing that same smirk, “A good one. don’t tell me.”
You glance at him then to the cigarette carefully flipped between two of his tattooed fingers and then back up at him.
But you think on it, and you watch the way Enjin’s lips stretch into a lazier, handsome sort of smile as he watches you. You’re silent for a moment, then two, and then you lean down to press a quick peck against the base of the cigarette with a nod.
“Done.”
Enjin hums at that, seemingly pleased and then places the same base between his lips with a mumbled “Nice.”
He hands you the lighter after that, like it’s the next part of his careful routine and when you roll your thumb over the engravings on the side of the metal you meet his eyes again.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask, then spark him a light. His body leans down into it and he takes a long drag as the cigarette catches.
“What?”
“That.”
He’s back to full height by the next one, eyeing you. You might even assume he’s ignoring you but when he breathes his next lungful of smoke in the other direction and tilts his head as if to pretend he’s in contemplative thought you know he heard you.
“Makes it taste better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Enjin’s grinning again, like he’s laughing at an inside joke you’re not in on. “What? You expect something more exciting?”
“That’s really the reason?” You can’t help but ask again, and this time it’s answered by the weight of Enjin’s palm laying flat against your head. It’s warm and huge and certain, rustling affectionately at your hair and you’ve got half a mind to bat him off of there but for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you don’t.
Because there’s a glint of something behind his features, a warmth. Barely recognisable but for you it’s unmistakable and always felt. Enjin looks at you as if he’s taken back by something for a moment when you blink up at him, but then his expression is back to his usual one and he takes another drag.
A little lazy, aloof. He shrugs then exhales away from you, “Eh, something like that.”
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka x gn reader. sfw - fluff. just a silly little scenario where you fall asleep on zanka’s shoulder. he’s an overthinker and a cutie.
Zanka feels afraid to breathe right now, never-mind move.
He’s stuffy beneath his uniform, hauled up in the back seat of the truck while Enjin drives you all home from a mission, and Zanka thought it was kinda adorable that you found yourself comfortable enough to nod off despite the drivers…. erratic technique.
Not that he minded it too much. Whatever made you feel comfy or whatever, that’s why he always wound up sitting next to you in the back seat anyway. And that was how it’s always been. Until now, after Enjin took a particularly sharp turn around a bend that knocked you off kilter and forced your still-sleeping form to lean onto Zanka’s shoulder.
He’s pretending it’s fine. It is fine, totally fine. Absolutely fine, ain’t no problem with it at all.
It’s not like he’s going to die from you sleeping on his shoulder or anything. Definitely not. Doesn’t matter how pretty you look while you’re doing it.
Zanka turns around to give your face a quick glance, just to make sure that you’re not twisted up weird, and then he feels a stutter in his chest when he takes in the way your cheek is smooshed up against him instead. You’re real close, really really close. Your chest is pressed up against his side and he can feel the way it expands with your soft breaths, your lashes fluttering absentmindedly like you’re dreaming— body flush and warm against his.
It makes him fidget in his seat, careful enough not to wake you, but he digs his fingers into his arms from where he’s got them crossed over his chest. He’s too scared to move, that’s why he’s not looked away yet— that’s the only reason, definitely.
He’s not gonna die. Definitely, definitely not gonna die. Even if somehow he feels like it.
But it ain’t nothin’ to do with the way your lips are pouting out because of how you’ve smooshed your cheek against his shoulder, and Zanka doesn’t realise that he’s tilted himself over a bit to get a closer look. He’s just concerned you’re gonna wake up stiff given the position, and internally he’s torn between waking you up to avoid it or considering readjusting you himself.
Would you think it’s weird if he didn’t wake you up? It’s not like you meant to fall asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when you realise just how close you both are. I mean, yeah— you and Zanka are close friends, and you’ve been physically affectionate before but not exactly like this.
Is he overthinking it? It’s not that he doesn’t like it or anything, but he doesn’t want you thinking he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable, sleeping form either. Zanka sighs to himself as he tries to slow down all of the thoughts in his brain, knowing fine well that he’s thinking too much into this, but then you shift a little bit more following another particularly harsh turn of the truck and suddenly he’s rigid again.
His eyes are wide, and his hands twitch as if they’re about to reach out and grab you as he feels your position sway in a bit closer. Part of him doesn’t want this to be over yet, and part of him is afraid you’re gonna wake up with the movement, it’s probably written all over his face.
But before he can decide what the hell he’s gonna do, he hears his name sound from the front seat.
“You good back there, Zanka?” Enjin’s voice suddenly calls out of nowhere, snapping his attention up to meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“W-why would ya ask that?” Zanka responds quickly, realising he’s being a little bit too loud before casting you a worried glance. He relaxes a bit when he sees you’re still asleep.
“Oh? No reason.” Enjin hums, amusement evident in his tone of voice but the blood is too loud in Zanka’s ears for him to notice. It’s rushing right to the tips until they’re flushing pink.
He tries to settle back after that, sinking more of himself into the old, busted seat of the truck, but when he closes his eyes all he can feel is your exhales against the neckline of his uniform and your chest against his arm. He feels his brows furrow, but his eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else that’s not your close proximity or the smell of your perfume.
Zanka focuses on the idle chatter of the radio, the sound of the gravel beneath the wheels of the truck, Enjin’s quiet whistling as he focuses on the road infront of him. He sways again following another harsh turn, and when you move with it he doesn’t hesitate to reach out to grab you, moving instinctively as his hands steady you at the waist.
Except when he opens his eyes this time to peek at you, you’re blinking back at him. Bleary-eyed and drowsy, yawning as Zanka almost snatches his hands back away from you with a gasp that nearly sends him flying back. The reaction earns him a chuckle from the driver’s seat and he feels all of the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks as he tries not to look too guilty.
You press your palm into your eyes as you tilt your head to blink up at him, “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Zanka shrugs, trying to play it off, but failing miserably as he turns his attention to something that’s apparently real interesting outside. “Seems like it. Ya can blame Enjin’s drivin’ for bein’ the one to wake ya.”
You grumble a bit, frowning towards the rear-view mirror but Enjin only casts you both a sorry wave, making you scoff.
“Your shoulder was comfy atleast.” You hum, half-yawning after a few moments and Zanka whips his head back towards you so quickly he almost flies off of his seat for the nth time today. Blame it on Enjin’s driving.
“Huh? Ya knew about that?” He gapes initially, but shakes it off when it earns him a tilt of your head. “I mean, it ain’t like I was gonna let ya fall, it’s no big deal.”
You laugh anyway, like he said something hilarious. It’s like you’re asking for trouble when you laugh at him like that, because Zanka hates the effect it has on him. The way it makes him feel like he’s accomplished something by making you smile, the way he wants to puff out his chest and do it again.
It’s a real average quality of his, but before he can get in his head about whatever’s going on you bring him back. Smiling.
“Thank you, Zanka.” You say, still pretty and half-awake, and even now Zanka can still feel the way your warm body had felt pressed up against his. He swallows, hoping it’ll be enough to let him keep his cool, and you’re looking at him like you want him to say something.
He shakes his head after a few moments and leans back against his seat again, shrugging once more. “Don’t… don’t mention it, why ya even thankin’ me? It’s not like I did anythin’”
“You were a very comfy pillow.”
“Are ya sure that’s even a compliment?” Zanka mutters, like his cheeks aren’t pink. Like he’s not gonna die, like you’re not gonna kill him with praise. Why does that even count? He’s so painfully average it hurts.
“You should offer me your shoulder more often, seems I sleep much better that way.” You mutter, softly as Zanka feels Enjin pull the truck into the parking lot of Headquarters, and he finds himself looking over at you as you shimmy away to the other side of the car seat. Readying yourself to get out of the truck. His eyes linger on you, and as if you can feel it you turn around to look at him, smiling like you’re grateful for something.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka nijiku x fem reader. aged up characters ( 20+ ). footjobs, zanka cums in his pants. reader teases him. minors do not interact.
⸺ ⟢ wc. 1.8k words.
“You’re here early.”
Zanka looks up from where he’s nestled into the cushions of the couch when he hears your voice, your head poking in between the double doors of the meeting room to see him already there. You’d both spent the morning sparring together before you’d decided to go back to your room to get ready, Corvus having insisted a full cleaners HQ meeting was in order to go over the upcoming missions.
Zanka had went ahead, telling you he’d meet you here once you were both done cleaning up. But even then, you’re still surprised to see him so early.
“Yeah well, figured I’d get ya a good spot. These things can drag on for a bit, y’know.” Zanka eventually responds, playing it off with a shrug but he watches you closely when you finally push yourself into the room and softly close the door behind you.
“How sweet. Wanted to make sure we got a seat together then?”
“So what if I did. Ya don’t gotta tease me about it.”
“You’re just cute is all.” Your voice lilts giddily as you take in the sudden flush to the tips of Zanka’s ears. It’s a small little victory, but you do still find his insistence on getting you both a good seat side-by-side to be quite adorable.
But you decide to let your teasing rest there, for now anyway. Instead finally making your way across the room with light little steps, that only stop when you come to stand at the edge of the old, worn-down couch.
Zanka glances at the spot to his side before giving you another look, huffing when you don’t slide into the space like he expects.
“Somethin’ the matter? If ya want this space instead just gotta say so and I’ll move for ya. Ain’t a big deal to me.” He hums, like it’s really not a big deal but you still find it cute how willing he is to give up his seat for you.
“Nope, this is perfect.” You say after a beat, quickly slipping off your shoes before dropping yourself down in the vacant spot. And Zanka has to reach out to steady you considering how clumsily you land onto the cushions, making sure you don’t bounce right back onto the floor with your eagerness.
“Watch it.” Zanka grumbles, hands reaching for your legs when you pull them up to your stomach and his fingers stroke along your calf as you try to get yourself comfy. You take your space on the opposite side of the two-seater, and despite the way Zanka’s shoulders drop a bit with the distance— he takes what he can get.
“Here, put ‘em here.” He says, guiding your feet onto his lap when he notices you kicking against his thigh, ignoring the sting it brings to his cheeks. “That feel better? Know the couch ain’t much but it’s the best we’ve got down here. People are always fightin’ for this spot so we’re the lucky ones.”
You take him up easily on his invitation, wiggling yourself a little further down as Zanka’s hand rests around your ankle and squeezes. “It’s better than standing so I can see why. Everyone’s body is probably sore from training.”
Your statement earns you an understanding hum and his fingers continue to stroke at your feet in his lap, the tips of his ears still pink.
“And how is yours holdin’ up? Anythin’ hurt?” Zanka asks after a moment of silence, his voice as gentle and coaxing as his touch.
“Nope,” You say, “I might just need to stretch a little.”
“Need me to help ya?”
“Maybe.”
Zanka doesn’t look at you long enough to pick up on it. Too interested in whatever he’s staring at across the room instead of looking at you, most likely trying to play off just how intimate the position you’re both in is.
Which is why he’s so caught off guard when you begin to carefully nudge the bottom of your foot closer to his crotch, surprised to find his cock already half-firm and curving slightly along his thigh. There’s a twitch that follows the gentle press of your toes and Zanka almost chokes on his next big inhale.
“H-hey,” He splutters, fingers clasping tight around your ankle. “Careful with ‘em or else we’re gonna have a problem.”
You grin, sighing cutely, “What kind of problem?”
“The kind that’s gonna be real damn awkward to deal with. Just… just quit movin’ around so much.”
“But I’m not comfy yet.” You pout before making a show of wiggling closer with the teasing, deliberately stroking your toes down the length of Zanka’s clothed cock until you feel the sensitive roundness of his balls. And you watch him bite down hard on his lower lip to muffle a sound.
“Cut it out.” He shifts, glancing down to his lap for a second, and you wonder if he even means to widen his thighs and shift forward into the press.
“You don’t like it?” You flutter your lashes at Zanka and at the same time, you let your foot stroke back up the curve of his lengthened cock, up until you feel the soft flare and curve of the head. A press that he instinctively rocks himself into with a clipped sigh, his expression strained.
“Didn’t say that, I just…” Zanka’s breath catches when you press the ball of your foot down on him over and over, trying hard not to let his hips quake. “Not here. Everyone else ‘ll be turnin’ up any minute and if that happens…”
“We’re early, remember?” You quip back, too quick for your own good and Zanka’s back arches ever so softly.
“It just ain’t a good time, really really ain’t a good time.”
“Why not?” You ask, deliberately slow as your toes catch in the wet stain of precum that's soaked up into the crotch of his uniform.
Because it feels too good, that’s why. He’s gonna bust infront of the whole of HQ at this rate and he ain’t ever gonna hear the end of it. But maybe that’s what you’re after.
“Ya know what I’m tryin’ to say, don’t make me spell it out for ya.”
“Hmmmmm… then stop me.” Zanka’s cock twitches against the arch of your foot when you tease him, and his blue eyes glance towards you— letting you see the blown out image of his pupils as his grip on your ankle turns even tighter.
But he can’t stop you. He won’t, and you know that. Because as much as Zanka works himself to the bone, his self-control when it comes to you is at its core— painfully average.
“Ya really gotta stop doin’ that.” Zanka swallows after a moment. He’s blushing furiously, but he’s pushing your foot closer instead of pulling it away and that makes you keen.
“A little longer. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable, we could be here a while y’know.”
“Yer gonna m-make it worse if ya keep steppin’ all over it like that.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
It is actually, you press your heel down, your whole foot pinning Zanka’s now hard cock against his crotch and the sudden pressure makes him jolt with a groan, hissing through clenched teeth as his free hand grips onto the arm of the old couch.
“If ya keep this up I’m gonna start suspectin’ ya of tryin’ to kill me.” Zanka sighs after a moment and the low timber of his voice surprises you, accompanied by the desire in his eyes that you can just glimpse from beneath his bangs.
You can’t help but feel it in your core, the look alone encouraging you to continue your careful steps along his cock, toes wiggling along his sensitive shaft until he’s twitching. His hand strokes over the top of your foot as his jaw squeezes tight.
“You’ve came back from much worse,” You say, slow and dreamy and incredibly aware of the hard resistance of Zanka’s cock against your foot. “Such an impressive guy, Zanka. You’re so cool…”
“Quit sayin’ stuff like that,” He says but you feel it. The way the praise goes straight to his cock, the way his body betrays him by humping up into the pressure. “I—I ain’t nothin’ special.”
“Oh, but you are. You work so hard, train so diligently and then on top of that….” You stroke your feet along Zanka’s shaft, giggling as you continue to drag and massage at it with your toes. “You’re so sweet too.”
He swallows loudly as his back arches against the couch and your foot feels almost numb from how tightly he grasps your ankle against his cock. The next stroke is a particularly hard one, and when you wiggle your feet all the way down to press on the head of Zanka’s cock once more, he lunges forward— bangs falling over his eyes as he clamps his free hand over his mouth.
“Wait, too much—“ He grumbles against his palm, but it’s already too late.
Zanka’s hips wiggle beneath your foot with a sudden kick of his cock, the wet, warm bloom of his cum catching both of you off guard when it begins to soak the inside of his uniform. His body jolts against your tingling toes when you curl them against the head again, catching the sensitive nerves in a tight fold of fabric from all of your grinding and rubbing as he curls himself over your leg.
When he comes down from it, flushed bright red and wide-eyed at the realisation of what the hells just happened, you have to stop yourself from grinning too wide. Zanka already looks like he’s going to die, his expression and mind no doubt going through the seven stages of grief as he takes in the now cum-soaked fabric of the inside of his uniform. Hoping it doesn’t show on the outside until he’s atleast made it back to his room to change.
You press yourself in a bit closer, legs folding up against his side as Zanka gives you a blown out, cloudy look and you stroke his bangs back from over his eyes before tilting your head.
“Whoops, maybe we should—“
“You’re both here early,” It makes you both jolt significantly. The sudden presence of a third party as Riyo pokes her head into the meeting room, and when she sees the surprised look on both of your faces, it’s natural for her to be a little suspicious. “Huh? Everything alright you two? You look like you’re burning up, Zanka.”
Zanka almost chokes on his own spit, his hand still tight around your ankle like he’s afraid letting you pull it away will be even more condemning.
“Y-yeah, it’s nothin’, obviously it’s nothin’ it’s just hot in here, that’s all.” He says, not as convincing as he thinks.
Riyo seems to pick up on that too, casting a glance between you both. “You think so?”
You fight not to laugh, but opt to try and save him incase he explodes. “We were just getting comfy, right Zanka?” You try to push at his softening cock with your foot, but he catches you with a wide, warning look.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka nijiku x fem reader. aged up characters ( 20+ ). footjobs, zanka cums in his pants. reader teases him. minors do not interact.
⸺ ⟢ wc. 1.8k words.
“You’re here early.”
Zanka looks up from where he’s nestled into the cushions of the couch when he hears your voice, your head poking in between the double doors of the meeting room to see him already there. You’d both spent the morning sparring together before you’d decided to go back to your room to get ready, Corvus having insisted a full cleaners HQ meeting was in order to go over the upcoming missions.
Zanka had went ahead, telling you he’d meet you here once you were both done cleaning up. But even then, you’re still surprised to see him so early.
“Yeah well, figured I’d get ya a good spot. These things can drag on for a bit, y’know.” Zanka eventually responds, playing it off with a shrug but he watches you closely when you finally push yourself into the room and softly close the door behind you.
“How sweet. Wanted to make sure we got a seat together then?”
“So what if I did. Ya don’t gotta tease me about it.”
“You’re just cute is all.” Your voice lilts giddily as you take in the sudden flush to the tips of Zanka’s ears. It’s a small little victory, but you do still find his insistence on getting you both a good seat side-by-side to be quite adorable.
But you decide to let your teasing rest there, for now anyway. Instead finally making your way across the room with light little steps, that only stop when you come to stand at the edge of the old, worn-down couch.
Zanka glances at the spot to his side before giving you another look, huffing when you don’t slide into the space like he expects.
“Somethin’ the matter? If ya want this space instead just gotta say so and I’ll move for ya. Ain’t a big deal to me.” He hums, like it’s really not a big deal but you still find it cute how willing he is to give up his seat for you.
“Nope, this is perfect.” You say after a beat, quickly slipping off your shoes before dropping yourself down in the vacant spot. And Zanka has to reach out to steady you considering how clumsily you land onto the cushions, making sure you don’t bounce right back onto the floor with your eagerness.
“Watch it.” Zanka grumbles, hands reaching for your legs when you pull them up to your stomach and his fingers stroke along your calf as you try to get yourself comfy. You take your space on the opposite side of the two-seater, and despite the way Zanka’s shoulders drop a bit with the distance— he takes what he can get.
“Here, put ‘em here.” He says, guiding your feet onto his lap when he notices you kicking against his thigh, ignoring the sting it brings to his cheeks. “That feel better? Know the couch ain’t much but it’s the best we’ve got down here. People are always fightin’ for this spot so we’re the lucky ones.”
You take him up easily on his invitation, wiggling yourself a little further down as Zanka’s hand rests around your ankle and squeezes. “It’s better than standing so I can see why. Everyone’s body is probably sore from training.”
Your statement earns you an understanding hum and his fingers continue to stroke at your feet in his lap, the tips of his ears still pink.
“And how is yours holdin’ up? Anythin’ hurt?” Zanka asks after a moment of silence, his voice as gentle and coaxing as his touch.
“Nope,” You say, “I might just need to stretch a little.”
“Need me to help ya?”
“Maybe.”
Zanka doesn’t look at you long enough to pick up on it. Too interested in whatever he’s staring at across the room instead of looking at you, most likely trying to play off just how intimate the position you’re both in is.
Which is why he’s so caught off guard when you begin to carefully nudge the bottom of your foot closer to his crotch, surprised to find his cock already half-firm and curving slightly along his thigh. There’s a twitch that follows the gentle press of your toes and Zanka almost chokes on his next big inhale.
“H-hey,” He splutters, fingers clasping tight around your ankle. “Careful with ‘em or else we’re gonna have a problem.”
You grin, sighing cutely, “What kind of problem?”
“The kind that’s gonna be real damn awkward to deal with. Just… just quit movin’ around so much.”
“But I’m not comfy yet.” You pout before making a show of wiggling closer with the teasing, deliberately stroking your toes down the length of Zanka’s clothed cock until you feel the sensitive roundness of his balls. And you watch him bite down hard on his lower lip to muffle a sound.
“Cut it out.” He shifts, glancing down to his lap for a second, and you wonder if he even means to widen his thighs and shift forward into the press.
“You don’t like it?” You flutter your lashes at Zanka and at the same time, you let your foot stroke back up the curve of his lengthened cock, up until you feel the soft flare and curve of the head. A press that he instinctively rocks himself into with a clipped sigh, his expression strained.
“Didn’t say that, I just…” Zanka’s breath catches when you press the ball of your foot down on him over and over, trying hard not to let his hips quake. “Not here. Everyone else ‘ll be turnin’ up any minute and if that happens…”
“We’re early, remember?” You quip back, too quick for your own good and Zanka’s back arches ever so softly.
“It just ain’t a good time, really really ain’t a good time.”
“Why not?” You ask, deliberately slow as your toes catch in the wet stain of precum that's soaked up into the crotch of his uniform.
Because it feels too good, that’s why. He’s gonna bust infront of the whole of HQ at this rate and he ain’t ever gonna hear the end of it. But maybe that’s what you’re after.
“Ya know what I’m tryin’ to say, don’t make me spell it out for ya.”
“Hmmmmm… then stop me.” Zanka’s cock twitches against the arch of your foot when you tease him, and his blue eyes glance towards you— letting you see the blown out image of his pupils as his grip on your ankle turns even tighter.
But he can’t stop you. He won’t, and you know that. Because as much as Zanka works himself to the bone, his self-control when it comes to you is at its core— painfully average.
“Ya really gotta stop doin’ that.” Zanka swallows after a moment. He’s blushing furiously, but he’s pushing your foot closer instead of pulling it away and that makes you keen.
“A little longer. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable, we could be here a while y’know.”
“Yer gonna m-make it worse if ya keep steppin’ all over it like that.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
It is actually, you press your heel down, your whole foot pinning Zanka’s now hard cock against his crotch and the sudden pressure makes him jolt with a groan, hissing through clenched teeth as his free hand grips onto the arm of the old couch.
“If ya keep this up I’m gonna start suspectin’ ya of tryin’ to kill me.” Zanka sighs after a moment and the low timber of his voice surprises you, accompanied by the desire in his eyes that you can just glimpse from beneath his bangs.
You can’t help but feel it in your core, the look alone encouraging you to continue your careful steps along his cock, toes wiggling along his sensitive shaft until he’s twitching. His hand strokes over the top of your foot as his jaw squeezes tight.
“You’ve came back from much worse,” You say, slow and dreamy and incredibly aware of the hard resistance of Zanka’s cock against your foot. “Such an impressive guy, Zanka. You’re so cool…”
“Quit sayin’ stuff like that,” He says but you feel it. The way the praise goes straight to his cock, the way his body betrays him by humping up into the pressure. “I—I ain’t nothin’ special.”
“Oh, but you are. You work so hard, train so diligently and then on top of that….” You stroke your feet along Zanka’s shaft, giggling as you continue to drag and massage at it with your toes. “You’re so sweet too.”
He swallows loudly as his back arches against the couch and your foot feels almost numb from how tightly he grasps your ankle against his cock. The next stroke is a particularly hard one, and when you wiggle your feet all the way down to press on the head of Zanka’s cock once more, he lunges forward— bangs falling over his eyes as he clamps his free hand over his mouth.
“Wait, too much—“ He grumbles against his palm, but it’s already too late.
Zanka’s hips wiggle beneath your foot with a sudden kick of his cock, the wet, warm bloom of his cum catching both of you off guard when it begins to soak the inside of his uniform. His body jolts against your tingling toes when you curl them against the head again, catching the sensitive nerves in a tight fold of fabric from all of your grinding and rubbing as he curls himself over your leg.
When he comes down from it, flushed bright red and wide-eyed at the realisation of what the hells just happened, you have to stop yourself from grinning too wide. Zanka already looks like he’s going to die, his expression and mind no doubt going through the seven stages of grief as he takes in the now cum-soaked fabric of the inside of his uniform. Hoping it doesn’t show on the outside until he’s atleast made it back to his room to change.
You press yourself in a bit closer, legs folding up against his side as Zanka gives you a blown out, cloudy look and you stroke his bangs back from over his eyes before tilting your head.
“Whoops, maybe we should—“
“You’re both here early,” It makes you both jolt significantly. The sudden presence of a third party as Riyo pokes her head into the meeting room, and when she sees the surprised look on both of your faces, it’s natural for her to be a little suspicious. “Huh? Everything alright you two? You look like you’re burning up, Zanka.”
Zanka almost chokes on his own spit, his hand still tight around your ankle like he’s afraid letting you pull it away will be even more condemning.
“Y-yeah, it’s nothin’, obviously it’s nothin’ it’s just hot in here, that’s all.” He says, not as convincing as he thinks.
Riyo seems to pick up on that too, casting a glance between you both. “You think so?”
You fight not to laugh, but opt to try and save him incase he explodes. “We were just getting comfy, right Zanka?” You try to push at his softening cock with your foot, but he catches you with a wide, warning look.
⸺ ⟢ contents. zanka nijiku x fem reader. aged up characters ( 20+ ). footjobs, zanka cums in his pants. reader teases him. minors do not interact.
⸺ ⟢ wc. 1.8k words.
“You’re here early.”
Zanka looks up from where he’s nestled into the cushions of the couch when he hears your voice, your head poking in between the double doors of the meeting room to see him already there. You’d both spent the morning sparring together before you’d decided to go back to your room to get ready, Corvus having insisted a full cleaners HQ meeting was in order to go over the upcoming missions.
Zanka had went ahead, telling you he’d meet you here once you were both done cleaning up. But even then, you’re still surprised to see him so early.
“Yeah well, figured I’d get ya a good spot. These things can drag on for a bit, y’know.” Zanka eventually responds, playing it off with a shrug but he watches you closely when you finally push yourself into the room and softly close the door behind you.
“How sweet. Wanted to make sure we got a seat together then?”
“So what if I did. Ya don’t gotta tease me about it.”
“You’re just cute is all.” Your voice lilts giddily as you take in the sudden flush to the tips of Zanka’s ears. It’s a small little victory, but you do still find his insistence on getting you both a good seat side-by-side to be quite adorable.
But you decide to let your teasing rest there, for now anyway. Instead finally making your way across the room with light little steps, that only stop when you come to stand at the edge of the old, worn-down couch.
Zanka glances at the spot to his side before giving you another look, huffing when you don’t slide into the space like he expects.
“Somethin’ the matter? If ya want this space instead just gotta say so and I’ll move for ya. Ain’t a big deal to me.” He hums, like it’s really not a big deal but you still find it cute how willing he is to give up his seat for you.
“Nope, this is perfect.” You say after a beat, quickly slipping off your shoes before dropping yourself down in the vacant spot. And Zanka has to reach out to steady you considering how clumsily you land onto the cushions, making sure you don’t bounce right back onto the floor with your eagerness.
“Watch it.” Zanka grumbles, hands reaching for your legs when you pull them up to your stomach and his fingers stroke along your calf as you try to get yourself comfy. You take your space on the opposite side of the two-seater, and despite the way Zanka’s shoulders drop a bit with the distance— he takes what he can get.
“Here, put ‘em here.” He says, guiding your feet onto his lap when he notices you kicking against his thigh, ignoring the sting it brings to his cheeks. “That feel better? Know the couch ain’t much but it’s the best we’ve got down here. People are always fightin’ for this spot so we’re the lucky ones.”
You take him up easily on his invitation, wiggling yourself a little further down as Zanka’s hand rests around your ankle and squeezes. “It’s better than standing so I can see why. Everyone’s body is probably sore from training.”
Your statement earns you an understanding hum and his fingers continue to stroke at your feet in his lap, the tips of his ears still pink.
“And how is yours holdin’ up? Anythin’ hurt?” Zanka asks after a moment of silence, his voice as gentle and coaxing as his touch.
“Nope,” You say, “I might just need to stretch a little.”
“Need me to help ya?”
“Maybe.”
Zanka doesn’t look at you long enough to pick up on it. Too interested in whatever he’s staring at across the room instead of looking at you, most likely trying to play off just how intimate the position you’re both in is.
Which is why he’s so caught off guard when you begin to carefully nudge the bottom of your foot closer to his crotch, surprised to find his cock already half-firm and curving slightly along his thigh. There’s a twitch that follows the gentle press of your toes and Zanka almost chokes on his next big inhale.
“H-hey,” He splutters, fingers clasping tight around your ankle. “Careful with ‘em or else we’re gonna have a problem.”
You grin, sighing cutely, “What kind of problem?”
“The kind that’s gonna be real damn awkward to deal with. Just… just quit movin’ around so much.”
“But I’m not comfy yet.” You pout before making a show of wiggling closer with the teasing, deliberately stroking your toes down the length of Zanka’s clothed cock until you feel the sensitive roundness of his balls. And you watch him bite down hard on his lower lip to muffle a sound.
“Cut it out.” He shifts, glancing down to his lap for a second, and you wonder if he even means to widen his thighs and shift forward into the press.
“You don’t like it?” You flutter your lashes at Zanka and at the same time, you let your foot stroke back up the curve of his lengthened cock, up until you feel the soft flare and curve of the head. A press that he instinctively rocks himself into with a clipped sigh, his expression strained.
“Didn’t say that, I just…” Zanka’s breath catches when you press the ball of your foot down on him over and over, trying hard not to let his hips quake. “Not here. Everyone else ‘ll be turnin’ up any minute and if that happens…”
“We’re early, remember?” You quip back, too quick for your own good and Zanka’s back arches ever so softly.
“It just ain’t a good time, really really ain’t a good time.”
“Why not?” You ask, deliberately slow as your toes catch in the wet stain of precum that's soaked up into the crotch of his uniform.
Because it feels too good, that’s why. He’s gonna bust infront of the whole of HQ at this rate and he ain’t ever gonna hear the end of it. But maybe that’s what you’re after.
“Ya know what I’m tryin’ to say, don’t make me spell it out for ya.”
“Hmmmmm… then stop me.” Zanka’s cock twitches against the arch of your foot when you tease him, and his blue eyes glance towards you— letting you see the blown out image of his pupils as his grip on your ankle turns even tighter.
But he can’t stop you. He won’t, and you know that. Because as much as Zanka works himself to the bone, his self-control when it comes to you is at its core— painfully average.
“Ya really gotta stop doin’ that.” Zanka swallows after a moment. He’s blushing furiously, but he’s pushing your foot closer instead of pulling it away and that makes you keen.
“A little longer. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable, we could be here a while y’know.”
“Yer gonna m-make it worse if ya keep steppin’ all over it like that.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
It is actually, you press your heel down, your whole foot pinning Zanka’s now hard cock against his crotch and the sudden pressure makes him jolt with a groan, hissing through clenched teeth as his free hand grips onto the arm of the old couch.
“If ya keep this up I’m gonna start suspectin’ ya of tryin’ to kill me.” Zanka sighs after a moment and the low timber of his voice surprises you, accompanied by the desire in his eyes that you can just glimpse from beneath his bangs.
You can’t help but feel it in your core, the look alone encouraging you to continue your careful steps along his cock, toes wiggling along his sensitive shaft until he’s twitching. His hand strokes over the top of your foot as his jaw squeezes tight.
“You’ve came back from much worse,” You say, slow and dreamy and incredibly aware of the hard resistance of Zanka’s cock against your foot. “Such an impressive guy, Zanka. You’re so cool…”
“Quit sayin’ stuff like that,” He says but you feel it. The way the praise goes straight to his cock, the way his body betrays him by humping up into the pressure. “I—I ain’t nothin’ special.”
“Oh, but you are. You work so hard, train so diligently and then on top of that….” You stroke your feet along Zanka’s shaft, giggling as you continue to drag and massage at it with your toes. “You’re so sweet too.”
He swallows loudly as his back arches against the couch and your foot feels almost numb from how tightly he grasps your ankle against his cock. The next stroke is a particularly hard one, and when you wiggle your feet all the way down to press on the head of Zanka’s cock once more, he lunges forward— bangs falling over his eyes as he clamps his free hand over his mouth.
“Wait, too much—“ He grumbles against his palm, but it’s already too late.
Zanka’s hips wiggle beneath your foot with a sudden kick of his cock, the wet, warm bloom of his cum catching both of you off guard when it begins to soak the inside of his uniform. His body jolts against your tingling toes when you curl them against the head again, catching the sensitive nerves in a tight fold of fabric from all of your grinding and rubbing as he curls himself over your leg.
When he comes down from it, flushed bright red and wide-eyed at the realisation of what the hells just happened, you have to stop yourself from grinning too wide. Zanka already looks like he’s going to die, his expression and mind no doubt going through the seven stages of grief as he takes in the now cum-soaked fabric of the inside of his uniform. Hoping it doesn’t show on the outside until he’s atleast made it back to his room to change.
You press yourself in a bit closer, legs folding up against his side as Zanka gives you a blown out, cloudy look and you stroke his bangs back from over his eyes before tilting your head.
“Whoops, maybe we should—“
“You’re both here early,” It makes you both jolt significantly. The sudden presence of a third party as Riyo pokes her head into the meeting room, and when she sees the surprised look on both of your faces, it’s natural for her to be a little suspicious. “Huh? Everything alright you two? You look like you’re burning up, Zanka.”
Zanka almost chokes on his own spit, his hand still tight around your ankle like he’s afraid letting you pull it away will be even more condemning.
“Y-yeah, it’s nothin’, obviously it’s nothin’ it’s just hot in here, that’s all.” He says, not as convincing as he thinks.
Riyo seems to pick up on that too, casting a glance between you both. “You think so?”
You fight not to laugh, but opt to try and save him incase he explodes. “We were just getting comfy, right Zanka?” You try to push at his softening cock with your foot, but he catches you with a wide, warning look.