[toastarchives]

30s, she/her. animanga x f!reader fic writer, characters aged up, not spoiler free, may be nsfw.

do not feed my work into AI, do not copy my work, and do not take my ideas to write as your own.

fuji's fic archive sideblog; consolidated/reposted from all my old blogs + any new works will be posted here! reblogs appreciated, no requests.

masterlist 💫

[mattsundaes]

Kuroo and quiet sex

18+

"baby, you gotta—"

you nod sharply, the latter half of your moan petering out into the silence of your dark bedroom. and you decide that maybe getting fucked facedown with your mouth muffled against your pillow was in fact, as kuroo had warned, not the full proof idea you had argued it to be.

("your brother's literally sleeping on the other side of this wall."

"i can be quiet like this."

"you're never quiet.")

to be fair, kuroo's the one that followed you upstairs when he was supposed to be sleeping on the couch.

(it's neither here nor there that you decided to not-so-quietly make your way into the kitchen in a tank top and panties.)

kuroo's hand strokes your waist, a soft caress, fingertips pressing reassuringly into your hipbone before his thick cock sinks into your sticky, swollen folds.

you want to argue that the slick, sloppy sound of his dick plunging inside of you is loud enough as it is, that the wet slap of his balls against the back of your thighs could probably wake the fucking dead.

but it's a battle in and of itself not to scream when he bottoms out inside of you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck as his palm claps over your parted lips.

[mattsundaes]

WELCOME BACK BELOVED here is some lube oh no whoops i spilled it all over uhhhh narumi taichou and fingering

18+

"i don't know if i should be proud—"

narumi cuts himself off, momentarily distracted by the way your spine arches off of the mattress, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"—or offended, really..."

you think you hear him sigh even as he finally relents and slides a second finger into the tight, wet heat of your cunt. something akin to a sob of relief tumbles from your throat, and your thighs shake as he strokes your slick inner walls.

he groans when you start to buck your hips, needily fucking into the stretch of his fingers. and it's maddeningly hot, the way he's hardly even let the heel of his palm slide over the throbbing erection tented at the front of his pants.

"—longest you've gone without telling me to go fuck myself," he muses, thumb stroking your swollen clit. "and all it took was this."

you ignore the violent flare of heat that lashes through your gut when he starts murmuring under his breath how wet you are, lifting a hand to card your fingers through his hair. he nearly preens, head tilting into your palm like a cat.

"narumi," you sigh, your grip tightening enough to draw a sharp intake of breath from him as you outright pull on the messy strands. "shut the fuck up, please."

(you regret to inform your not-horny self much later that you did, indeed, cum hard all over his stupidly dexterous hand at the way he'd pathetically groaned at that, quickly reaching between his legs to finally squeeze his dick through his pants.)

[toastarchives]

rooftop date — mashiro shuuji, kgb

fluff, reader is senpai, 1.5k words

"Dude, you're like, seventy percent leg, what do you mean you can't reach it?"

Mashiro Shuuji snorts, stretches a little higher, the tips of his fingers grazing the cold metal of the fire escape. 

You're tapping your foot — not from impatience, but with nerves. It's not like the Sorcery Bureau cares, but you keep glancing around like a certain blonde teleporter is going to show up and laugh in your face, so Shuuji tries a little harder. 

"What if I pick you up?" Shuuji asks. One look at your face and he snorts again. "Right, never mind." 

He buries down the slight hurt and puts his hands on his hips. The ladder of the fire escape looks barely serviceable, but you insist that it'll take you both to the roof. 

Why the roof? Well, you'd mumbled something about stargazing, and about his long legs, and something about the way you kept glancing at his face and then away made hope unfurl in his chest, the petals delicate and the roots deep. 

Honestly, you could've asked him to take you to the bottom of the ocean, and Shuuji would've tried his best to make it happen. 

Shiba-san would laugh at him.

Shiba-san will laugh at him, if he can't manage to get you to the roof just because of a stupid stuck ladder. 

Shuuji tilts his head and eyes the mechanism holding the ladder in place. Most buildings have roof access from the interior stairs, but for some reason, you want this one, way at the edge of town and with an outside fire escape. You step closer as he squints up at the ladder, until the brush of your sleeve against his elbow becomes the only thing he's thinking about. 

Focus. 

"Mashiro-kun, maybe we can call it a night," you say, and you sound so defeated it makes him bite his lip. Strange, that his senpai, one of Princess Soga's assigned guards, could sound so dejected while facing a ladder, of all things. 

Shuuji applies some pressure to the holding mechanism, and the ladder slides down with a quiet clang. 

"Oh!" 

"After you?" he gestures towards the rungs and swallows hard when you beam at him. 

"I knew you could do it," you say, reaching up — not for the ladder, but for his hair, ruffling the strands even though reaching sends you off balance. Shuuji grabs your waist, as always, heat flaring in his gut at what should be a perfectly normal action and reaction between senpai and kouhai. 

You regain your balance and Shuuji lets go. He has to make the conscious decision to let go, but you haven't noticed the slight hesitation every single time it's happened, and Shuuji thinks maybe you'll never notice — because it's him. 

Just Mashiro Shuuji, your cute kouhai, a guy with no family and no prospects, a guy who stands taller than you but will bend so you can ruffle his hair. He knows you don't really see him as anything more than a friend — why else would you pop into his room in the middle of the night, asking to go stargazing? 

Yeah, you're all sorcerers, but you're still a girl, and either you've got no self awareness, or you don't see him as a man. Shuuji knows which answer's the right one. 

It's fine. 

The roof is ... not what he expected. Instead of air conditioning units and maintenance shafts and a jungle of pipes, there are raised garden beds, the dirt damp and sprinkled with tiny green buds. There's a sturdy wooden bench tucked in a corner, nearly hidden beneath an archway blooming with leaves and flowers closed shut for the night. 

You take his hand and Shuuji almost trips on his own feet. 

"Isn't it so pretty, Mashiro-kun?" you ask, and Shuuji knows you're referring to the rooftop garden, but — 

"Yeah," he says firmly. 

You grin at him, none the wiser, smile so bright and fond he almost manages not to blush straight up to his ears. Thank fuck the area isn't very well-lit. The night sky spreads out overhead, depthless and enormous, but your hand is so warm and your fingers so gentle as you rub your thumb along his skin and drag him forward. 

The bench creaks with your weight, and you sit closer than normal. Thigh to thigh, your pants doing nothing to keep Shuuji from feeling your warmth seep into his own clothes, your entwined hands resting on your lap like you've forgotten about it. There's a light breeze, the nighttime chill just making your warmth stand out even more. 

"Dude, are you okay?" Shuuji asks, because now that he's sitting this close he can see the flush on your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes, like you're coming down with a fever. 

"I'm okay, Mashiro-kun. Just nervous, I guess," you laugh sheepishly, peeking up at him and then away. Tendrils curl like vines around Shuuji's heart and squeeze. 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Thanks for coming up with me," you say. "I'm supposed to go back to the Soga estate soon, you know." 

"'Course I was gonna come," Shuuji says easily. Your hand twitches in his own, and he squeezes automatically, feels his pulse jump when you squeeze back. "Hey, uh, senpai...?" 

"Yeah?" 

Shuuji chickens out. After all, there's no way someone like you — someone as pretty, as smart, as capable as you — would like him. He's got a ways to go to earn a place by your side, and he's not silly enough to delude himself about it now. 

"The stars are nice out here." 

You tip your head back to look, and your eyes sparkle even more. Shuuji tries to look away, but you'll be sequestered away with the Sogas again, and even though he works for the government attached to them, he doesn't get to go to the estate very often. 

Better to get as much of you as he can. 

"Will you visit me?" 

Your words throw him off. Did you learn how to read minds? 

"Huh?" 

"I'll miss you." You fidget against him, pressing a little closer into his side. You're very warm. "I mean, I'll miss Shiba, too. My troublesome kouhai... you should have him bring you, when he's sneaking things in to the princess." 

Right. He's just your kouhai, nothing more — 

"So? Will you visit me?" 

"'Course I will," he says. Even if he has to pretend he doesn't see Shiba-san's sly glances, even if he knows his other senpai will try to get him drunk so he can confess — 

"Good," you say. "When you come, will you wear this?" 

Shuuji blinks as you pull something out of your pocket. Your hand unfurls and he sees a glint, silver reflecting starlight as you hold up a pair of earrings. "Whoa. You sure 'bout this?" 

"I know your piercings still need to heal, so would you wear these once they do?" 

They're nice, simple, clearly a bit more expensive than the starter ones Shiba-san used, the ones currently in his ears. You twist your entwined hands around, opening his hand, your fingers gentle around his wrist as you drop the earrings into his palm. 

And then you reach up and tuck your hair behind your ears, and Shuuji nearly chokes. 

"Whoa, do you need some water?" 

Shuuji shakes his head, fingers curling protectively around the earrings in his hand. "H-hey, senpai..." 

"Hm?" 

"Are these, uh," — he shouldn't even be asking this, but what if he's right — "do these match with yours?" 

He can feel the heat on your cheeks. Your eyes, widening, drawing him in. Close, closer, until abruptly you duck your head and press your forehead to his chest. "Mashirooo," you whine, and a disbelieving laugh escapes him. 

You sound — so cute. Yeah. 

His heart feels like it's gonna leap out of his chest. Fuck. 

"Is it lame? I just thought, maybe, since I'm getting reassigned... dude, please don't make fun of me," you say, fingers clutching at his shirt in a way that's totally unhelpful. "If I'm overstepping, and you don't feel the same way — well, if you don't, I'm gonna kill Shiba —" 

"Oh yeah?" 

He can't help the way his nose scrunches with how wide his grin gets, but luckily you still have your face buried in his chest, so you can't see. You can hear the incredulity in his tone, though, and that makes you peek up at him. 

"Will you help me?" you ask seriously, and Shuuji blinks. "If I needed to throw Shiba off a tall building, would you help me?" 

"'Course," he says easily, "but is that gonna do anything? Y'know he'll just come right back." 

"Sure, but it'll make me feel better," you say. "He said I had nothing to worry about, but I think I should kick his ass anyway. So —" you pause, smiling slightly at Shuuji's snort, "— do I? Have anything to worry about?" 

And maybe he's your kouhai, but you're gonna miss him, and you got him matching piercings, and you talked to Shiba-san about him. Shuuji could die happy. 

"Nah," he says, reaching tentatively for your ear, careful of your new piercings. "I'll wear them as soon as I can. You've got nothin' to worry about." 

[wileycap]

Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".

1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.

1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.

1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.

1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.

2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.

2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.

2.1.1. We do not want another incident.

3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.

3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.

4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.

4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.

5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.

6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."

6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.

6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.

6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.

6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.

6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.

6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.

6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.

This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.

[suguwu]

yakuza!sae who you've tried to stab more than once, but he's deflected every time. you're with a rival family and he should make an example of you, but instead—he marries you. it effectively stays your hand and serves as a punishment.

it's a cold marriage, a bleak winter's day. your bed stays empty; sae keeps to his own rooms after the initial wedding night. he's aloof. unbothered by your bared teeth.

until the affair.

sae kills your lover with his bare hands.

he's ruthlessly efficient with it; he doesn't even tell you he's done it. that falls to one of your attendants. he waits until you know, and then he goes to you that night.

you're trembling when he enters. you throw yourself at him with something akin to a wail; he grapples you into submission. pins you under him.

when you start to cry, he sighs. he loops an arm under you and pulls you up to sit in his lap, cradling you to him. you're warm against him, your hands fisting in his haori.

"i hate you," you hiccup between sobs.

he cups a hand at the base of your skull. he uses the grip to tilt your face up to his. his teal eyes are sharp; they slip beneath your skin.

"that's fine," he says. "but you're mine."

"i'm—"

"mine."

"you don't even like me," you breathe, confusion painted across your face.

something flashes across his face, too quick for you to identify.

"you're too smart to be this stupid," he tells you.

he kisses you then, hard and possessive. his fingers tighten against you, pull you in closer still. his tongue is hot when it slips into your mouth.

you bite.

sae doesn't even flinch.

when he pulls back, there's a smear of crimson against his lips. he licks at it.

"little animal," he says, but there's almost something fond to it. "i suppose i should have expected that."

you bare your teeth at him. "i'm not yours," you say.

sae reaches down. he lifts your left hand into the air. your wedding ring glints in the low light.

"yes," he says. "you are."

[toastarchives]

height — mashiro shuuji, kgb

fluff, 183 words

being older than mashiro and patting him on the head when he comes back from a mission.

shiba's usually the leader in their partnership, so it's a funny sight to see mashiro walking casually towards you, as if he isn't paying attention to the man dragging his feet behind him. their mission must've gone well, but shiba probably did something he shouldn't have, and he's not looking forward to reporting it.

mashiro's taller than you, but he ducks his head sheepishly when you grin, and that's when you do it — fingers in his hair, ruffling the strands a little, fond.

you stand on tiptoes to reach, swaying, a reed in the breeze. his hands go to your waist on instinct, and something in you blooms, heats your cheeks like spark to tinder.

his hands tighten briefly — steadying you, maybe — before he lets go.

"seriously," he murmurs, gaze flashing to yours, a shy grin on his face. "i'm not a kid."

mashiro straightens to his full height and he's all lanky limbs, but undeniably not a kid.

your lips quirk.

"you liked it."

[prettyiwa]

having a relationship with mashiro and hating his recruitment with shiba the entire time. you get used to it, your hackles lowering as time goes on, as mashiro seems happier, as shiba seems disarming. and then he doesn't come home one day, but shiba does.

you can't even give him proper rites.

shiba holds onto you because you're what's left of his partner until you have this ugly and gnarled push and pull. the two of you latch onto each other as the years go on because you two are all you have left of the man you both wish was here.

[prettyiwa]

after he gets mashiro to warm up to him, shiba tries to do the same with you, only to be met with your continual cold shoulder.

it happens, eventually, you not walking away when he comes close. shortly before the irishima talks, when you and the others go drinking. mashiro leaves to bring you a new beer and shiba takes his place.

"see? i'm not so bad?"

"sure, sure. keep bringing him back home to me and maybe i'll believe you."

the laughter comes easy with the booze and company but it makes you both feel warmer to the other than before.

you're waiting in the aftermath, and all shiba can see is mashiro's face and all he can hear are your words.

[toastarchives]

the island — mashiro shuuji, kgb

spoilers for chapter 121, established relationship, angst, major character death, smut, unprotected piv sex, idk what to say, 1.6k words

"I wish you wouldn't go," you say. Fingers twisting into the fabric at his waist, tugging the hem out of his pants. "The Sogas should be good enough. And Shiba, sure. But you don't need to be there." 

"Shiba-san will get us out if anything bad happens," Mashiro Shuuji says lightly. "It's an honor I got chosen. I can't back out, y'know?" 

You press your forehead into his chest, into the warmth and steadiness there. He holds you close, snickers a little into your hair when you reach around him to undo his katana holster. He's used to this — ever since you became lovers, spurred on by Shiba's poking and prodding, both of you learning all sorts of things together — he knows you like to be close with him before he heads out on dangerous missions. 

Really, they're all a little dangerous. Such is the life of a government dog. There is a difference in magnitude, though, and while you tease him sometimes with the easy missions — holding out until he comes back to fuck you, pent up and a little rough — you're clingy for the big missions. Sweet, even. 

"Take responsibility, Mashiro," you say, reaching up to undo his tie. Your movements are swift, practiced. You've gotten a lot better with ties since this... arrangement. "You could ask to be put on Princess Soga duty, like me." 

"I've gotta help Shiba-san," Shuuji reminds you. He catches your hands with his own, rubs at your palms gently. "Besides, I'm just fodder. None of those big shot guys will look twice at me." 

"I hate when you call yourself that," you mumble. Shuuji ducks his head, touches your chin, kisses you carefully. Still a little awkward, even after all this time. "You're not fodder. You're not a sacrifice." 

"Who else could it be?" 

You kiss him again instead of answering, and Shuuji loses himself in you. Maybe it's just hormones, maybe it's just being raised without any warmth — but you're always so good for him. Good to him. 

Sometimes Shuuji wonders, if he hadn't ended up paired with Shiba-san — would his partner have matched you up with someone else? With Azami-san, maybe, even though you already knew him long before Shuuji came into the picture? 

Or maybe Shiba-san would've fallen for you himself, instead of nudging Shuuji with his shoulder any time you entered the room, making up excuses to push you together. It hadn't taken much, though — you're pretty, and funny, and you seem to have a thing for his hair, always running your fingers through it when you get close enough to touch. 

You like his piercings, too, and Shuuji shudders in your arms as your tongue toys with the shiny metal rings. He's got you hovering over his lap, working you open as you drip all over his fingers. Your breaths hot and desperate against his skin, your nails digging into his shoulders, the dimly lit room filled with your bitten back moans. 

You're acting a little differently, tonight. 

Like you can't quite get close enough, touch him enough. Your chest pressed into his, your mouth soft and wet against his own. Heavy, messy kisses, intensity coalescing with desire, little whimpers in your throat. 

"Shuuji," you gasp, and — you're so gorgeous like this, laid out on his bed, your thighs parting easily for his body to settle between them. You press your hand to his cheek, smooth your thumb along his skin. "I want you." 

Shuuji squeezes his fists, grits his teeth and thinks desperately about — lollipops, and sushi rice, and the pop of a beer can opening. Thinks about anything except for your fingers reaching to undo his belt, brushing along the hard ridge of his cock. 

"Oh yeah?" It comes out easy, natural, a phrase he says whenever he doesn't know what else to say. You pout up at him, eyes flashing, and he laughs. "Sorry, sorry. I'm not — ah — bragging, I promise." 

"I know," you say. "C'mere." 

You pull his cock free and drag him close, shivering as he groans and slides against your wet heat. "Wait, wait, I need to grab a condom." 

Shuuji may be a bit of a punk, but he's a good guy at heart. He knows there are rules to follow, that he shouldn't fuck you raw, that there are consequences for that sort of thing. The two of you are lovers, and you've only ever been with each other, but still. 

"It's a safe day," you say. Shuuji snorts, frowns halfheartedly down at you. "What? I'm on the pill, too. C'mon, Shuuji, please?" 

You're a menace. "Dude, it's not a good idea." 

You wrinkle your nose and lean up to kiss him. "You're about to go face off against these scary dangerous guys, and you won't let me feel you raw just once?" 

Shuuji throbs against you. You squirm a little, your eyes widening as the tip of his cock slips and catches at your hole. "Seriously?" he laughs, but it comes out strained. "Okay." 

And maybe he's always been a little too obedient, too easy to sway. Shiba-san is always ordering him around, but that's his senpai — of course Shuuji's gonna listen. 

You aren't his senpai, but you're his, and he likes making you happy, he likes seeing your lips part on a moan when he stretches you open, he likes the way you look at him — like he's the only guy you ever wanna look at again. 

"Oh, Shuuji, you feel good." 

It isn't fair, that you can be so hot and wet around him, so warm he feels like he'll melt. Shuuji thinks he's probably gonna cum soon, but he should really fuck you, first. It's not right if he's the only one who feels good. 

You drag him down into a kiss. You taste like the strawberry sando he brought you earlier, like sweet cream and spring. You giggle into his mouth when he jerks into you, taken off guard by your heels digging into his back, and you sound like his happiest memories. 

"Shuuji," you gasp, "you've gotta come back, 'kay?" 

"Hah — yeah, m'kay." 

You squeeze him tight when you cum, kissing him and kissing him as he gasps into your mouth and follows you off the edge. Inside, which is — not good — but you cling to him and kiss him and Shuuji would do anything to make you happy. 

"That was crazy," he laughs. You grin up at him, lopsided and fond, and he winces as a drop of his sweat lands on your cheek. 

You brush your fingers along his smile, his cheekbones, his brows. He leans into your touch when you reach for his piercings, closing his eyes with a hum as he slowly softens inside you. "You're crazy cute," you say, and Shuuji feels his cheeks warm. "I love you, y'know? Please take care of me." 

Shuuji feels his heartbeat in his throat. You're both still young — adults, yeah, and maybe sorcerers don't have the longest lifespans, but still — "I love you, too," he says. He can see his reflection in your eyes, the way his eyebrows are furrowed all seriously. 

"Am I making you nervous?" you laugh. Your fingers rest against his pulse. Your smile is warm, warm, warm. 

You're so pretty. And sweet, and sexy, and funny — Shuuji thinks back to all the times you've said something offhand that made him snort, all the times you've dared to join Shiba-san's lessons in troublemaking, the faces you'd make while trying different kinds of alcohol for the first time. 

Shuuji's folks kicked him out, and he grew up in the Sorcery Bureau just like the rest of you, but it wasn't until he got paired with Shiba-san and met you that he's felt like he belongs. You'll be waiting for him to come back. 

He has someone waiting for him. 

It's a funny feeling, to realize he's not alone in the world. That he hasn't been alone in a while — that you'd wait for him, and Shiba-san would look for him, and both of you want him around. 

"I'll take care of you," Shuuji promises, "until we're old and gray." 

Your eyes widen at that, and you shift a little, biting at your bottom lip. "Shuuji...?" 

Ah, fuck. He's hard again. 

You laugh suddenly at the way his brows pinch together, rolling your hips just to make him choke. "Okay," you say, tangling your fingers together, palm to palm. "Until we're old and gray." 

Shuuji's dying. 

He's dead, actually — there's no way back from this. Even if Shiba-san made it, even if he got teleported back — too much of him is gone. It's too late. 

Shuuji sends his katana flying at the man who refuses to die, using the last bits of sorcery in his grasp to give Shiba-san a chance to get away. 

He falls before he can see what happens. He feels his sorcery drain away, faces the smoky sky and sees — 

You. 

He's breaking his promise. He won't be able to marry you, to take care of you until you're old and gray together. To come back to you, to see you smile and feel your hand squeezing his own. No more shared strawberry sandos, no more shitty beer. 

The sky is getting dark. Fuzzy. 

Shuuji's glad, though. Glad he got to be with you, grateful for the time you've had together. He might've had his doubts, in the beginning, but now he's sure. 

He loves you. You said it first, but he knows, deep in his bones, that you were right for each other.

It's obvious. 

Who else could it be? 

[toastarchives]

KAGURABACHI CONTENT?? You write so well. You gave Masahiro justice.

YEAAAAH BUDDY!! kagurabachi content... for the manga readers ahaha mashiro really came in these last few chapters and grabbed me by the shoulders. his bowlcut bewitched me. i had no choice but to write him!

thank you for being so nice about it!! i hope you have an awesome day!

[toastarchives]

give me that pressure — mashiro shuuji, kgb

coworkers/friends to lovers, pwp, gratuitous made up mechanics on spirit energy, "fuck or die" vibes but it's not that serious, just the tip, fingering (f!receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mildly dubious consent, "dude" but romantically, 3.9k words

"Aw, heck." 

You roll onto your back, sweat beading at your temples. "Mashiro-kun?" 

"Hey," Mashiro Shuuji's voice softens, but the thread of anxiety weaves through clearly, his eyes wide and his pulse rabbit-fast at his neck. "Heard you were havin' a hard time." 

Your laugh comes out as a weak cough, and Shuuji is at your side in an instant, hands hovering as he panics. You fidget with your loose shirt, the blankets twisting around your bare legs. You blink up at him. 

It's less than ideal, but you've never been one to throw away an opportunity that lands right in your palms. "It's my own fault... I got hit by that weird sorcerer and now I'm... like this." 

"Whoa, hey," Shuuji says, "Shiba said you saved all their asses. He sent me to check on you, but..." 

His brow is etched with concern, but you still catch it — that flicker of want in his eyes. Shuuji's been looking at you like that for ages, now, but he hasn't acted on it out of some misplaced sense of loyalty to your mutual friend... who is your ex. 

"But what?" you prompt softly. A shiver wracks through you as the wayward spirit energy works its way through your body. 

"But what am I supposed to do?"

You manage a tiny smile, catching at his shirt tucked neatly into his pants. Shuuji turns bright red, his gaze flicking away and then back, like he can't help it. "I could really use some... pressure, Mashiro-kun." 

Shuuji swallows, his throat working hard. "Oh, yeah? Right, okay. I can do that. Where do you need it?" 

You tug on his shirt and he leans slightly closer, his body all awkward limbs as he tries not to fall onto you. "Can you give me a hug?" 

"A — a hug?" 

You nod, tugging on his shirt again. It finally untucks, a loose bit hanging off the side. "It'll work better if your spirit energy is physically touching mine." 

Shuuji looks dubious, but you shiver pitifully and it seems to shake him out of his reservations. "Okay, but tell me if anything hurts." 

Your room is dim, lit only by the lamp at your bedside. It's still enough for you to see the flush high up his cheeks, the way his ears — both pierced, with two hoops along each outer edge — are bright pink, his fingers fumbling with his katana holster to set it aside. Shuuji is a slender young man, but strong, physically reinforced with spirit energy and years of training to be a government dog. 

Your gaze goes to the streak of white in his bangs, watching with interest as he hovers over you. "Please," you say, and Shuuji shudders. 

He kicks off his house slippers and clambers onto the bed, hesitating for another moment before finally you take pity on him and gesture for him to lie down. 

Shuuji does this with the air of a man going to his doom. 

You climb over him before he can change his mind, thighs on either side of his hips, and then you lie on top of him, chest to chest, your head tucking beneath his suddenly extremely tense jaw. You can feel his pulse racing under your ear, but you relax into him, the strange energy tangled with your own slowly settling as Shuuji's energy starts to sync with yours. 

"Ah," you sigh, "that's better." 

"Oh yeah?" Shuuji's voice has gone low, strained, a little strangled. "Glad I could help." 

You squirm a little against him as you concentrate. The strange sorcery is really only mildly uncomfortable, but it's still annoying and you're glad it's reacting the way you hoped it would. "Can you direct some pressure along my spine?" 

Shuuji nods immediately and raises his hands above your body to form the signs that let him direct his sorcery. You feel a gentle force against your back muscles, as if invisible hands are massaging you and your energy into releasing all the tension you're holding. 

You moan. You can't help it — it feels good. 

Shuuji freezes. "Aw, hell," he mutters, shifting his lower body somewhat guiltily. You feel it, though — the rapidly stiffening bulge pressing up against your center. 

"Don't stop, Mashiro-kun," you murmur, squeezing your thighs as he shivers. "It's working." 

To his credit, he manages to keep his sorcery going as directed, his fine control and power a testament to his ranking as one of the top four fighters in the Sorcery Bureau. You melt into him, probably squishing him in the process, but every pass of his sorcery is slowly siphoning away the strange energy that you caught in the earlier battle. 

In fact, you're almost sure it's all been wiped away — except for the strong, desperate ache between your thighs. 

"Hey, Mashiro-kun?" 

"Hm?" 

"When are you gonna make a move on me?" 

Shuuji chokes. "I — hey, hold on, wait a min— nghh." 

You sit up and place your hands on his chest, catching his fluttering racing heartbeat in your palm. Sitting up dislodges his hand signs, and his hands hover for a split second before gripping your hips and squeezing as you grind your aching core against the bulge in his slacks. 

It relieves the pressure, just slightly, so you do it again, moaning as sparks catch to kindling beneath your skin. 

"Mr. Shiba's gonna kill me," Shuuji groans, eyes scrunching shut as you grind against him again. 

"Shiba gave you his blessing, not that it matters," you sigh. "After all, he sent you to check up on me, didn't he?" 

Shuuji's eyes snap open at that, his hands suddenly firm at your waist, holding you still. A deep throb of want echoes through you at the easy strength, the silent command. "You sure 'bout that?" he demands. "And what about you?" 

"I want you to kiss me." 

Your longtime friend, coworker, crush looks at you for a quiet, stretched out moment. "Is that gonna help you out?" 

"Probably not," you confess, tilting your head. "But I want you to kiss me anyway." 

"But you... and he..." 

"Are just friends," you say firmly. "I want you, Mashiro-kun... but only if you want me, too." 

Shuuji shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath. His heartbeat skips under your palm. 

"This is nuts," he laughs. He looks at you, then, really looks at you, eyes shining with simmering want and affection and fondness. You blink, suddenly shy. "Can we, uh — can we switch places?" 

You nod and shuffle off, pouting about the loss of heat and friction, but Shuuji rolls to prop himself over you, sinking into the cradle of your parted legs and hissing as his bulge presses into you. "Oh," you gasp. "That's nice." 

"Oh yeah?" he asks, but it comes out as a huffed breath. "We've gotta be careful or I'll, uh —" 

"Can we —?" 

"Gonna kiss you now —" 

And he flashes that boyish, cute grin, the one that makes your heart stammer, and then he leans down to kiss you. 

There's a quiet heartbeat as you bask in the gentle pressure, the way his lips are slightly chapped, and then he pulls back a little to laugh under his breath, like he can't quite believe it, and you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again. 

And again — and again — 

Soft, teasing kisses, his lips learning yours, his nose brushing along your cheek as he sighs and kisses you again. 

And again. 

You sink your fingers into his hair, touch gently at the nape of his neck, drag your nails along his piercings. Shuuji groans at that, an open invitation, and you lick into his mouth, greedy. 

"Aw, hell," he laughs, pulling back with a sharp jerk. "I'm supposed to be helpin' ya..." 

"This is helping," you say firmly. Shuuji reaches up to wipe at the sweat forming along his brow, the black and white strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead. 

"Do you still... need pressure, somewhere?" he asks, and the sincerity bleeding through his tone makes you blush. 

Gosh, you really like him. 

You've always been fond of him — he's an earnest sort of guy, following along in Shiba's footsteps but just as quick to stick to the Bureau's rules, a guy who's strong and powerful in his own right (as evidenced by his status) but humble about it. And he's a little silly. Anxious, like — all the time — except while on the battlefield, where his gaze goes steady, focused. 

You don't know when you started seeing him as more than Shiba's partner, but once you started, you couldn't stop. 

Maybe it was his piercings that caught your eye first. For a government dog to have two rings along each outer ear — you liked that spark of rebellion. The dichotomy of it — the neat collared shirt and tie, the katana holster strapped to his chest, and then — those piercings. 

You touch them gently now, your thumbs running along the hot rim of his ears. Shuuji shivers, his eyes fluttering shut before he leans down to kiss you again, giving in. 

"I think I need more pressure down here..." you murmur, tilting your hips up. His slacks press into you, the hardness in his pants digging into your soaked panties. 

Shuuji jerks back and then falls forward, his face hot against your neck. "Aha...ha..." His accent comes out rough, colors his words with pop rocks. "I really like you, y'know?" 

Your own face warms, but the shadowed ceiling above you is your only witness. "I'm still going to like you if you touch me," you promise. "Please, Mashiro-kun?" 

"I don't wanna hurt you on accident," he mumbles. You feel his breaths tickle your neck. "If I use my sorcery on you, uh, there —" 

"You can use your fingers instead," you suggest, trying not to squirm against his boner (and failing). "Or something. Thicker." 

Shuuji inhales sharply. His hands — clenched into fists by your shoulders as he keeps himself from squishing you — go white knuckled for a moment. "I am not fucking you right now." 

You valiantly try to suppress a shiver at his tone, but you probably fail at that, too. It's hard to tell anything as heat pools and gathers in your veins, as that dull, insistent ache pulses between your legs. "Just your fingers, then," you say, breathless. 

Your panties are a mess, but Shuuji doesn't take them off of you. He hesitates before touching you, his eyes searching yours, his brow furrowed as he hikes your oversized shirt up above your hips. His fingers skim your belly, your sides, skirting the edge of your panties. 

"For real?" he asks. "Do you always get like this?" 

You scrunch your nose and he winces, planting his hand on your thigh. "Mashiro-kun." 

"Sorry, my bad," he says sheepishly, "it's just, uh, if I don't talk I'll end up being a quick shot, and, well, I wanna make you... feel good." 

Shuuji's fingers dip lower, until he's touching you, feather light, over the thin soaked cotton covering your cunt. You twitch when he digs in a little harder, the tip of his fingers finding your clit. He nudges aside your panties a second later, letting out a long breath as his fingers dip into your folds. 

"Ohhh." 

"Aha... ha..." Shuuji laughs weakly, his eyes flicking from your face to your pussy and back to your face. "Fuck, you look — you feel —" 

"More, Mashiro-kun, please." 

He obeys, slipping one finger in and hissing when you instantly clamp down on the intrusion. "How's the pressure?" 

You manage to give him an incredulous look before he curls his finger, pleasure shooting raging hot up your spine as he prods at your inner walls. "Good, good," you breathe. "Give me another finger." 

Shuuji does this without question, scissoring his fingers inside you and stretching you out. For what — you don't know, since he's said he won't fuck you — but you reach to grab his tie in a desperate bid to get closer, craving him, his body heat, his wiry frame and solid, lean muscles against yours. 

He just — he has so much control, surprising when you think about how eager he is to do well. Shuuji lets you drag him closer, but he doesn't stop fingering you, keeping himself propped up with one arm even as he leans close to kiss you. 

"Need more," you mumble between kisses. He's ratcheting the spikes of pleasure higher and higher, but you want to clench down on something thicker, more unyielding, you want — 

You tilt your hips up, desperate, chasing him. The pressure is almost enough, a walk along a tightrope, but you know, you know that falling from this height won't be enough, it won't fill the gaping maw of desire in your bones. 

He circles your clit, dizzy and wet and soaked in your juices, and then keeps doing it when you jolt. Manages to slide two fingers back into you and presses up, keeps up the motions and kisses you again and again and oh, you're falling — 

"Fuck," Shuuji bites out. It comes from a distance, but you hear it even as you fall, as everything goes shaky and blinding and he kisses you through it. 

You blink back the stars in your eyes when you come down, tugging at his hair, still careful of his piercings. "Mashiro-kun," you pout, feeling a teardrop glide down your temple. 

"Wha — aw, fuck, did I hurt you? Are you okay? Here, let me — shit," he panics immediately, pulling his fingers free and swiping them clean on his shirt so that he can gather you into his arms as soon as possible. You can't help giggling, reaching up to brush your thumbs along his eyebrows. "Sorry," he says, freezing. 

"I need more pressure," you say quietly, shifting your hips guiltily. "Are you sure you can't...?" 

Shuuji sucks in a breath, eyes wide. "I didn't hurt you?" 

He's so cute, his tie loose and askew, his shirt untucked at one hip where you pulled it earlier. One of his sleeves is soaked at the end, the fabric damp, and that, for some reason, makes you shy. "Of course not," you laugh. "You made me cum." 

"Oh yeah?" 

You shiver, blinking as his gaze settles heavily on yours. "I'm sorry, I just — I can take care of the rest of it myself, don't worry." 

"Dude," Shuuji says, and then pauses as his ears redden. Your heart skips, and you giggle. 

"Dude," you nod. 

Shuuji flashes you a relieved sort of grin, his gaze going soft and fond in an instant. "I wanna help you out, I just — I don't think I'm gonna last." 

"We'll have plenty of other chances for you to show me how long you can last," you say quietly. The bed creaks slightly as he shifts his weight above you. "What if you just... used the tip?" 

Shuuji is quiet for a moment, just looking at you, the light by your bedside softening his edges and highlighting the thin layer of sweat beading at his temples as he considers it. "You won't break up with me for being quick?" 

You shake your head, grinning. "I'll take it as a compliment." 

He laughs at that, his shoulders shaking gently as he reaches down with one hand to undo his slacks. In fact — his hand is shaking, too, trembling a little as he nudges his pants open and his briefs down enough to free his cock, which is hard, leaking pre at the tip, pretty just like the rest of him. He wraps his hand around his length and gives himself a pump, just once, before he freezes abruptly. 

"I don't have any condoms," he says, and the horror in his voice makes you laugh. 

"I'm clean," you promise, still giggling. "The Sorcery Bureau makes us get tested for everything, you know, and I had my annual last month. Plus... I'm on the pill." 

"Mine was right after yours, and I'm clean, too," he says, but you can hear the doubt in his voice. "The pill isn't a hundred percent, though, right? This job is too crazy for me to be a dad..." 

You snort. "What, Mashiro-kun, you wouldn't wanna have a baby with me?" 

Shuuji looks like a deer in headlights for a moment and his grip on his cock tightens until it almost looks painful. He releases it a second later, shooting you a confused, half-hearted glare. "Dude, don't even joke about that. You almost made me cum, and I can't be that lame!" 

"Oh?" 

"I'll pull out," he promises, nodding to himself. "You said you still need... pressure, right?" 

"Yeah," you sigh. "I need you, Mashiro-kun." 

Shuuji shoots you a look, like he knows exactly what you're doing, but he settles himself between your legs again, keeping one hand on his cock as he guides it to your aching, slippery slit. You moan as he presses in carefully, the thick head of his cock spreading you open just right, and then he freezes. 

"Just the tip," he says. 

"Feels good." 

"Oh yeah?" 

You make a pathetic sort of whimpering noise as he pulls out, your pussy clenching desperately to keep him inside, your walls squelching with how wet you are, how hot and clawing and needy you feel. Shuuji's jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes a deep breath and pushes back in. 

"Mashiro —" 

"Dude —" 

You gasp as he slips in a little bit further, tilting your hips up to help him go deeper, and Shuuji's free hand shoots out to pin you down by the waist. You shiver, staring up at him. 

"I'm fighting for my life, here," he laughs, but it comes out strained, clenched. You grab his forearms, swooping up to his biceps, feeling how tightly he's holding himself back and registering the fluttering in your belly. 

You're already close. 

"Feels really good," you say, sighing as he starts to fuck you — shallowly, keeping a firm grip on your waist, the head of his cock nudging at your walls in a way that's almost enough. You're on that tightrope again, but higher, now, high enough that the drop looks almost scary. 

Shuuji slips a few times, drives his hips forward a little too far, his cock sinking in just a bit more as he strains to hold back. Every slip sends a fissure of pleasure through you, every shallow thrust a crack in your rapidly eroding self. You want him deeper, fucking you fully, pressing you into the mattress with all the focus and intensity you've seen on the battlefield. You want — 

"Oh, oh, fuck," you gasp, struggling against his hands at your hip holding you still and at the right angle as he fucks into you that much harder. You dig your nails into his biceps, hanging on to him, giving up on trying to move in tandem with him. 

You wrap your legs around his waist instead. 

Shuuji's gaze snaps away from your face and down to where you're connected, his shoulders hunching as he grunts and sinks in a little deeper. "Aw, fuck," he groans, eyes screwing shut as he sinks in more. "You've gotta — you've gotta stop clenching like that." 

"Feels so good, Mashiro please keep going, please," you whine, tugging him closer. "I'm close." 

"Just — just the tip," he says, and tries to pull back, tries to be good, you know this, he's just trying to do what you agreed on, he's a good guy through and through — 

"Shuuji." 

A helpless sort of groan rumbles through him, sweat beading and dripping down his temples, and he sinks back in to your hot, aching pussy. 

All the way in. 

You feel him in your belly, the waistband of his briefs and slacks hitting the backs of your thighs, the damp patch of hair at the base of his cock tickling your skin. 

You blink up at him, lips parted, eyes wide with shock. Fuck. Oh, fuck. 

"Aw, heck," he grits out. "I wasn't supposed to do that." 

"I'm gonna cum," you breathe, helpless. 

Shuuji nods to himself, visibly braces to pull out, eyes trained on his cock and your pussy as he carefully inches back. Even in the dim light of your lamp, you can see how it shines with how wet you are, with his pre smeared and mixing with your desire. 

"Shuuji —" 

You know you're being unfair, but he groans and slams back in, pressing you hard into the mattress. His hands are gripping your sides so tightly you're sure you'll have bruises, but all of it is so overwhelming and good and it's exactly the right pressure against your aching core that you — just — 

Snap. 

Shuuji swears. His hands go from your waist to your thighs, drawing your shaking legs over his shoulders, pressing you deep into the mattress as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

As he fucks you straight into another one, his cock hard and perfect and so fucking good, the angle letting him hit spots that make white hot bolts of pleasure shoot through you, your mind hazy and grasping at details, like — 

His jaw, that muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth — 

The sweat dampening his bangs, that white streak of hair almost a beacon in the light — 

His eyes, focused intently on your face, on your every gasp and hiccup of pleasure — 

"Shuuji, oh fuck, Shuuji I'm gonna — again oh please, pleasepleaseplease —" 

Shuuji's hips stutter as you fly off the tightrope again, everything fading into a blissful haze as he moans your name and his cock throbs inside you. 

And throbs. And throbs. 

You feel hot all over, sweat sticking your loose shirt to your skin, your insides flooding with him as he pants above you. He removes your legs from his shoulders and collapses onto you, nosing at your face until he finds your lips, kissing you languid and slow and deep. 

You gather enough strength in your weakened limbs to cradle his face in your palms, brushing at the sweat by his temples, his piercings hot at your touch. 

Shuuji finally pulls back from kissing you to sigh. "Dude." 

"Hmm?" 

"I swear I wasn't gonna do that." 

"Thank you for doing that," you say seriously, and Shuuji laughs, his heartbeat pounding in time with your own, hard enough to feel against your chest. 

"I really like you." 

"I like you, too," you say, softening as he looks at you fondly. "Please don't die anytime soon. You're my boyfriend now." 

"Should I retire early?" he muses, snickering when you roll your eyes. "Ah, nngh, hold on —" 

You stop shifting your hips immediately, blinking as he pulls out carefully, breathing deep. He's soft, now, but very wet and shiny, and he winces as he hesitates with yanking his briefs back up. 

Shuuji glances back up and meets your eye. A tiny, lopsided smile spreads across his face. 

"Why is this embarrassing?" 

"I don't know," you grin back, reaching down to wiggle your ruined panties off and tossing it into your laundry basket. You pull off your sweaty shirt while you're at it, sitting back bare naked on your bed as you squeeze your thighs together to keep from spilling. "You wanna shower together?" 

"S-shower?" 

"Shuuji-kun, you were balls deep in me like, two seconds ago," you deadpan. 

"Ho boy," he laughs under his breath, his gaze soft as he meets your eye. "I dunno if I can handle being your boyfriend. You're way too hot. And I like you way too much." 

You reach over and tug him closer by his tie, hanging haphazardly on his neck. Shuuji obliges instantly, leaning over to kiss the smile on your lips. 

"Don't worry," you murmur. "I'm sure you can handle the pressure." 

[toastarchives]

the proposal — hoshina soshiro; kn8

established fwb to fake engagement to lovers, smut, oral (m!receiving), piv sex, creampies, fingering, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism/sex act in a public place, praise, mentions of oral (f!receiving), reader is referred to as 'girl', 'pretty girl', and 'honey', reader is unable/chooses not to have kids, 11.6k words

Hoshina Soshiro wakes up with a handful of something soft.

It only takes a moment before he realizes what's going on. You've been sleeping over more and more often lately, and your previous activities must've worn you both out more than expected.

It makes sense. Soshiro was a little stressed, and you've always been willing to help him relieve it.

He squeezes your tit and snickers quietly when you grumble at him. You're sleep-warm and utterly relaxed, your body melting back into the solid length of him as you resettle in his bed. It's barely dawn, the room brightening little by little, the light catching on the loose strands of your hair and the sweep of your eyelashes as you scrunch your nose at his teasing. He pinches your nipple lightly.

"Hoshina-kun… I'll dropkick you if you're trying to go again right now."

"You're the one who keeps squirmin'," he points out. You push your hips back against him again in retaliation and his cock twitches with interest. "You sure ya don't want another round? One for the road?"

He watches you consider it, your eyes blinking open and squinting at the clock on his nightstand. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and smirks when your lashes flutter at the feeling, only to bite back a groan when you arch into his touch. Fuck, you're so sexy.

"You just want me reporting to Narumi with your cum staining my panties," you mutter. Oh, now there's an idea. He knows you can feel how hard he's gotten, pressed up tight against your ass. Soshiro won't deny that you're right.

You're naked besides the shirt you grabbed from his closet last night, though the soft material has rucked up around the curve of your waist. He's similarly barely dressed, just the thin barrier of his briefs keeping him from pressing against you fully skin to skin. You're so soft and pliant in his arms, fitting perfectly in the crescent moon shape of his body as his little spoon.

"You'd like that," he murmurs, relishing the little shiver that goes up your spine. In a moment of weakness, you had confessed once that you really liked his morning voice (and his seriously-gonna-kick-this-kaiju's-ass voice, and his follow-my-orders voice, and — but then he'd turned you around and fucked you against the counter muttering praises in your ear as you came all over his cock). "Don'tcha think it'd be fun? He's already gonna know you spent the night."

As evidenced by the many hickies Soshiro's left all over your neck. It might be a little childish, this possessiveness — especially when you're not even his, not really — but Soshiro likes leaving little marks wherever he can, some sort of proof that you were together and that you chose to fall into bed with him.

And you keep choosing him, even as Captain Narumi Gen of the First Division actively pursues you. You tell Soshiro all the time that rank doesn't mean much to you, and it's not like you're sleeping with people for advancing or clout — but you're a platoon leader in the First Division and that means you spend way more time with Gen than with him. It wouldn't surprise Soshiro if one day you decided he wasn't worth the hassle of traveling down to the Tachikawa base on your days off, if you decided that Gen is actually kinda hot and could get in your pants for once.

That'd be the end of your friends-with-benefits relationship. The two of you agreed from the beginning that it'd be exclusive — neither of you wanted to worry about protection, and Soshiro didn't want to bother with the hassle of other partners anyway. It was easiest with you and only you.

"Hey," you mutter, turning in his arms to face him and leaning up to bite fondly at his chin. "You're thinking too much."

He knows he is. The message he received yesterday from the Hoshina clan sits heavy in the back of his mind, though he can kind of ignore it as you suck bruises into his neck.

Soshiro groans low in his throat and leans down to kiss you as you sneak your hand into his briefs. He feels hot and shivery, arousal pooling deep in his gut as all the blood in his body flows away from his brain. You give his cock a few slow pumps, smearing the precum gathering at the tip to help the glide of your hand along his length, squeezing and twisting your wrist just right as he shudders and grabs at your ass. You kiss him hard, seemingly determined to erase his train of thought, dragging your tongue along his teeth and sucking on his lip as you throw your leg over his hip. "Fuckin' hell —"

"You're so hard," you mutter, rolling the two of you over so that Soshiro's flat on his back with your legs on either side of his hips. His hands go immediately to grip your thighs, eyes widening at the wet smear of arousal you leave along his lower abs as you drag his briefs halfway down his legs. He kicks them the rest of the way off as you press down on one of the bruises you left on his shoulder. "Fuck, Hoshina, you're so — you look so — I'm gonna — wanna ride you, 'kay?"

As if he'd say no. As if he'd ever protest anything you want to do when you're grinding the soft folds of your pussy along his cock, practically dripping on it as you adjust the angle and squeeze the base of him in your haste to sit on it.

Soshiro doesn't cum right away, though it's a close call. The wet, sticky heat of you enveloping his bare cock is a feeling he'll never get tired of. It's heaven and hell all wrapped up in you, in being with you, being inside you. You moan as he enters you, a low, rough sound almost punched unwillingly out of your chest.

"Hold on to me," he grunts, offering his hands for leverage. You take the offer gratefully, squeezing his fingers as you bottom out and pant. "Fuck, how're you still so tight?"

"Why're you still so big?" you huff, wiggling your hips a little to adjust to the stretch. Soshiro tenses, groaning as your walls bear down on him. He's not going to cum. He won't. He can last a bit longer. "I thought we went like, three rounds last night," you mutter, "you should be wrung out by now."

Soshiro laughs. "And I thought I fucked ya last night," he says. "Thought I fucked ya good and proper. But you're just too good for me, huh? Too good at bein' so fuckin' perfect."

He punctuates his statement with a sharp thrust, relishing the startled whine you let out and laughing a little more when you shoot him a halfhearted glare. "Quit it," you demand, "let me do this."

You raise your hips and drop down on him carefully, working up into a pace that makes your tits bounce. Soshiro wants to see — wants you naked — and thankfully you don't stop him as he reaches up to pull your borrowed shirt off. The change in angle makes your stuttered moans veer into whines, mixing with the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the morning air. "You're doin' so well," Soshiro groans, hands coming up to hold whatever he can. You grab his shoulders for leverage, back arching as he leans forward to suck one nipple into his mouth.

"Hah — ahh, Hoshina —"

"What'd I tell ya to call me?" Soshiro grunts, switching to your other nipple with a lewd pop. He swirls his tongue around the pert bud and reaches down to rub quick circles around your neglected clit. "C'mon, pretty girl, what'd I say?"

You gush around his fingers, coating his cock in a ring of white as you bounce on it desperately. Soshiro can tell you're getting close — your whines get cut off, your walls get tighter, you dig your nails into his shoulders — and it only makes the coil threatening to snap in his gut tighten harder.

It's too early for this. You're worn out from last night, and pleasure is making your muscles strain. Soshiro can feel your thighs trembling with the effort of riding him. He leans back on one hand to help, timing his thrusts as you drop back down, hitting that spot deep inside you, keeping his other hand at your clit as you sob. The friction is driving him insane — you feel so good. He can usually keep his mouth shut during sex, only letting out rough groans and stuttered moans, but knowing you're affected by his raspy morning voice has him dropping his filter with every thrust.

"Feels so fuckin' good, pretty, you look so perfect on my cock," he grunts. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as you pant, granting him access to suck more bruises into your neck to bloom along with the ones from last night. "You're such a good girl — such a good fucking girl —"

Oh, he's gonna cum soon. You're squeezing him so tight, your wet walls squelching obscenely with every thrust.

And then you say it —

"F-fuck, Hoshina — I'm gonna — Soshiro I'm gonna cum —"

Ah, fuck.

"Nghh," Soshiro feels it snap, feels his thrusts get sloppy as he cums, thick ropes of white painting your insides as you whine and cry and cum around him, squeezing him tight, feels the sharp zip of pleasure racing through his body as all his muscles release.

You collapse on top of him and he catches you, breathing hard, sweat beading his temple and dripping into your hair. His arm is loose around your waist and he's trembling holding the two of you up with his hand planted flat on the mattress. "Can't believe you still came so much," you mumble into the side of his neck, "what the hell, Soshiro?"

"It's a going away present," he mutters back, laughing fondly when you pinch his side. "Make sure ya keep it in while you're reportin' to your Captain."

There's only the sound of harsh breathing for a moment as the two of you recalibrate and return back to your bodies.

"I'll need my panties," you say, lifting your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Do you know where you tossed them last night?"

Soshiro traces a pattern idly along your bare back, following a few of your scars and smoothing along the sweaty skin. "You don't wanna shower first?"

You shoot him a look and he laughs. "You'll spill out if we do — unless you're planning on going again."

Soshiro hums and leans forward to kiss you, languid and easy. You kiss him back, as naturally as breathing, and maybe there's some post nut clarity involved but the idea he's been floating in the back of his mind seems a little more like a good plan the longer he kisses you.

"What d'ya think about marryin' me?" he asks.

"Is this why you called last night sounding like that?" you ask. Soshiro tilts his head and you copy him, pinning him in place with your pretty eyes. "I came over thinking you needed to talk, but you… distracted me."

Soshiro snorts. You still sound breathless, hazy and floating off the high of your orgasm. "I got a message from my family."

"The entire Hoshina clan?"

"Yeah," he says, shifting you more comfortably in his lap. He's getting soft, but you make no effort to move from off of him. "My dad was askin' me to come back."

"To do what? You're the Vice Captain of the Third Division — surely they've stopped hounding you about quitting the Defense Force to be a teacher." You say it so easily, as if they'd be stupid to bother trying. "You're literally better than Narumi's dumb ass against mini kaiju. Your family should be proud."

"They said something 'bout my future prospects," Soshiro admits. He has no idea why you have so much faith in him, but he appreciates it. "So it sounds like I'm bein' set up with omiai. I was thinkin' it'd be nice ta walk in with a fiancée so I could avoid that whole mess."

You hum thoughtfully, but it's not an answer. Soshiro helps you get off his lap, following you into the bathroom and helping to wipe you down with a wet towel as his cum dribbles out of you. Your panties are located and you slide them on, sighing. "I wish the train ride back was shorter, but there's no way I can sit that long with your cum in me. Sorry, Hoshina-kun."

"You're gonna kill me someday," Soshiro says frankly. He didn't actually expect you to try. You snicker and flick his forehead affectionately.

"You're the one who thought this was a good idea," you point out. "For someone who isn't interested in having kids, you sure love cumming inside."

Soshiro raises an eyebrow. "Pot. Kettle."

You laugh. "Fair point," you say. "Anyway, you just need me to pretend as your fiancée, right? I'm down. Finding another fuck buddy would be a pain at this point, and you piss off Narumi the most, so it works for me. Will I get to tour the famous Hoshina training compound?"

"Yeah, 'course," Soshiro says. There's a funny feeling sitting in his chest, but he doesn't have time to think about it as you give him a sweet kiss and loop your arms around his waist. "It'll just be for a lil while. Just 'til my family gets off my back."

You shrug. "Do you want me to record Narumi's reaction when he finds out your dick game was so good I agreed to marry you?"

Soshiro laughs. You feel good pressed against him like this, hugging him in just your panties. You usually save your physical affection for behind closed doors, so Soshiro's gotten used to soaking up as much as he can before you inevitably leave.

"Go shower," you say after a moment of aimless kisses. "I can make your coffee."

"You're the best," he mumbles into your hair. You tilt your head up to accept another careful kiss to your temple, eyelashes fluttering closed in appreciation. "I'll be quick."

"That's what you said last night, but now I'm all sore," you laugh, pushing him towards the shower. Soshiro obeys, scrubbing up and getting ready for the day. You grab your toothbrush from its spot next to his on the counter to brush your teeth, and then you wash your face with the cleanser he picked up for you the other day. You shoot him a wink through the mirror when you catch him checking out your ass, and then you skip out of the bathroom and Soshiro listens through the open door as you hum absently in his quarters. Captains, Vice Captains, and platoon leaders get the most space, so while his apartment isn't as large or as fancy as Captain Ashiro's, it's still pretty sizable. There's enough space for a small kitchenette, at least, and soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts in to cut through the steam of his shower.

Soshiro pulls on his uniform, toweling halfheartedly at his hair as he finds you on his couch. You're nursing a mug with the JAKDF design flaking off — the one you always use, which is why he hasn't replaced it yet — and there's another fresh mug on the table. Soshiro sits beside you and takes a sip.

"Perfect," he says, "thanks, sweetheart."

You've dressed back in your own uniform, rumpled and sleep worn. "That'll cost three kisses," you say, smiling into your mug. Soshiro hums, arching a brow.

"The cost's gone up? What's up with that?"

You shrug demurely. "Inflation. Sorry, but rules are rules."

Soshiro is careful to grasp your mug as he leans over to kiss you, bypassing your softly puckered lips and going for your nose and cheek and forehead instead. Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to glare at him playfully. He's hovering close enough that he can feel your breaths on his skin. "The cost for not paying up properly is five kisses."

"Ah, well, I guess I'd better pay up," he murmurs, setting your mug aside and kissing the silly smile off your lips. You giggle into the kisses, delighted and giddy, a version of you that Soshiro only sees behind closed doors.

"Your hair's still wet," you say, pulling back with a wrinkle to your nose. A few stray droplets of water slide down your cheek. Soshiro watches, mesmerized, as your tongue darts out to catch it. "C'mon, I'll help you."

You sit up and take the towel from around his neck, fluffing up his hair as he tilts his head obligingly towards you. It's nearly time for you to catch the train back, but you take your time, pressing the water out of his hair carefully.

It's a little too sweet, a little too comfortable and domestic. At the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you never stayed the night, and you had laughed when he offered, preferring quick fucks around the base in the limited time you had together. That was about a year ago, and now you show up in the evenings, claiming his pillows and demanding he update you on the latest story he's been reading before getting down to business. Any more of this and he'll start getting ideas.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think ya liked me."

Soshiro peeks up at you from beneath his bangs, a lopsided smirk on his lips, ready to fall back into the easy pattern of teasing and bantering with you. Just like clockwork, he catches you rolling your eyes. "I wouldn't let you or your dick anywhere near me if I didn't like you at least a little bit, Hoshina-kun."

"And 'cause I piss off your Captain," Soshiro says. You nod with just a fraction of hesitation, but that's probably because you're distracted by the towel in his hair.

"Narumi gets so grumpy," you laugh. "You'd think he's never been rejected by girls before."

"He's never been rejected by someone as pretty as you," Soshiro says absently, reaching up for the towel. His hand brushes the back of yours and you drop it abruptly, covering up the moment with a scoff as you turn quickly to grab your mug. "Want me to walk ya to your train?"

"I'm a big girl," you roll your eyes. "I'll be fine." Soshiro watches as you drain the rest of your coffee and rise to bring the mug to the sink. You pad back and lean over the back of the couch to give him a light kiss on his forehead, and then you're sliding your boots on at the genkan and waving with one hand on the door. "See you next time, fake fiancé."

His apartment is quieter, emptier without you, so Soshiro finishes up his own coffee and heads out to face the day. His muscles are pleasantly sore, relaxed in the way he always is after spending time with you, and now that he has a plan for dealing with his meddling family, it's easier to cheerfully put his new rookies through a rough training session.

You send him a message later in the day, a short video clip of you in Captain Narumi's office. Soshiro settles in his desk chair as he watches, mindful of Okonogi searching for some records in another corner of the workspace. The video clip starts off with the front facing camera, where you grin and throw up a peace sign, before it flips to show the First Division Captain hunkered down in a mess of boxes and a rumpled futon, fingers tapping rapidly at buttons as he stares at the television screen with bloodshot eyes.

"Reporting, Captain Narumi," your voice sounds cheerful and Soshiro can see Gen's head twitch towards the sound.

"I'm almost done beating this boss," Gen says hurriedly.

You hum, but it's clear you don't particularly care. "Then I guess I can tell you later about how I'm engaged to Vice Captain Hoshina."

"Hah?!" Gen's controller flies into his blanket as he scrambles up, a pathetic noise coming from the television as a Game Over flashes across the screen. "What did you just — are you recording this?"

"I promised I'd show my future husband," you say sweetly, and damn if the phrase doesn't stir something strange in Soshiro's chest. "Do you have any congratulatory words for us?"

Soshiro brings his phone closer to his face, snickering as you zoom in on Gen's rapidly contorting expressions. The Captain of the First Division seems to refocus, gaze zeroing in on your neck. "You're pulling a prank on me," Gen says. "You look like you got attacked. You two aren't even dating. What about giving me a chance?!"

The video shakes as you shrug. "What can I say? We've been together for a year now, you know. Hoshina-kun's the only one I trust to treat me right. Anyway, I've gotta tell everyone else, thanks, Captain."

The video flips to show your face again, and you give a little wave and a smile to the camera. "See you soon, love!"

It cuts off with a strangled noise from Gen's direction and the bright peal of your laughter in response. Soshiro can't help laughing too, clutching at his side as he scrolls through the rest of your messages to see screenshots of the First Division Captain's face looking like he belongs in several viral memes. And if Soshiro's ears feel a little warm at your new term of endearment for him, well, that's just for him to know.

Okonogi pops up with a stack of files and sets them on the table. "What was that, Vice Captain?"

Soshiro hums, tapping out a response to you. Before he can send it, you send a blurry photo that makes him sit up straight, eyes wide. It's clearly your panties shucked down your thighs, taken from an awkward angle, but even with the shadowy lighting he can see the way your fingers are glistening with creamy white liquid stretching down to your pussy.

Is that… is that his cum from earlier this morning?

You send him a thumbs up emoji. Mission success, you type, as if you aren't giving him a heart attack from several kilometers away.

Okonogi clears her throat as Soshiro locks his phone and rubs at his face. "Sir?"

"Ah, my fiancée just sent me a funny video."

The news spreads across the two divisions rapidly, much to Gen's loudly voiced annoyance and Soshiro's amusement. It isn't exactly a secret that you have an exceedingly friendly relationship with the Third Division's Vice Captain, but the details of your engagement are enough to fuel the communal bathhouse rumor mills for a solid few weeks. Love in the Defense Force isn't rare by any means, but most of the higher ranked members are more focused on their fighting abilities than romance, so it's big news for the Defense Force's strongest miniature kaiju combatant to be involved in something like an engagement.

Time moves differently in the Defense Force — there are daily patrols, training sessions, sporadic days off — but everything gets put on hold when a kaiju emerges in the area. Then it's destruction minimization, civilian rescues, kaiju neutralization and the aftermath of reports and reconstruction and kaiju deconstruction. The First Division gets a few more than the Third's, just by virtue of being based next to the ocean, and it feels like ages and no time at all before Soshiro sees you again.

"What's this?" you ask, shutting his office door behind you with a soft click. "Are you behind that mountain of paperwork somewhere, Hoshina-kun?"

"M'here," he grumbles, reaching up to stretch out the stiffness in his back. Nobody ever talks about how much paperwork comes with going up the ranks. "Thanks for comin' by."

You snicker as he spins to face you, letting him tug you closer by the hem of your uniform jacket. "Did you call me over to rescue you? Sorry, sir, but I have my own paperwork to die under."

Soshiro snorts and tugs you even closer, until your knees bump his. "I needed to give ya somethin'."

He digs around in his jacket pocket for a moment before producing a small box. Your eyes widen, but you don't say anything as he takes your hand and slides the ring into place. It's a simple band, safe to wear beneath combat gloves, but the gem inset is a clear, brilliant amethyst. "Unconventional color," you remark, tilting your hand in the light.

This is somehow more embarrassing than he thought it'd be, but thankfully you don't seem to notice the flush creeping up his neck. "You said once that ya liked my hair color in the light. Since it's just a favor, I figured you'd be alright with somethin' a lil different."

You meet his eyes and grin. "Oh? Is this where you promise me a real ring when we get engaged for real?"

Soshiro's heart kicks in his chest as he coughs his surprise. You laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, mussing up his bangs. He blinks as you comb the strands back into place. "I dunno, you'd hafta move to Tachikawa if we got married for real."

If you're not joking — if you really do feel something else, something more —

You tilt your head, your eyes clear and sparkling as the setting sun hits your face just right. The angle of light swallows your pupils, throws your gaze into something unreadable for just a moment. "You don't think you could unseat Hasegawa-san as Vice Captain? He should probably retire soon, you know. He looks way too stressed."

"Your Captain would never take me," Soshiro scoffs. "Besides, I promised I'd always clear a path for Captain Ashiro."

You're quiet for a moment. Soshiro can feel his heartbeat in his throat. "I guess I could move here," you concede, humming. Your fingers still on his bangs. "The company's not too bad."

"Not too bad, huh?" Soshiro raises an eyebrow, skims his fingers along your waist. The air feels charged with something unspoken, something different — but he knows how to drag it back to normalcy. "I can't say much 'bout the company, but what about this desk?"

Mischief sparks in your eyes and he answers your grin with his own. That's more like it. "The last time we fucked on this desk, Okonogi-chan complained that all your paperwork was messed up afterwards," you point out. "I have a better idea."

Soshiro's eyes widen and a bolt of lust zips down to his cock as you sink to your knees, settling between his thighs with a hum. You shuffle and turn a little, positioning yourself between his chair and his desk. "What're ya doin'?"

"You still need to finish your paperwork, right? How many reports do you think you'll get through before I can make you cum down my throat?" Your eyes flash in the light and he shudders, hips jumping into your touch.

"Ya lock the door?" Soshiro huffs, shifting in his seat as you run your hands along his thighs. Fuck, his pants are getting tight. You shrug noncommittally and drag your finger along the hard bulge of his cock. "I didn't call ya over for this, y'know."

"I know," you unzip his pants and smile as he lifts his hips enough for you to yank the fabric down. His cock springs free and you lick your lips. Soshiro groans. The way you're looking at him — eyes bright, lips wet and shiny, eyelashes fluttering as if you're shy when you reach out to lick the beads of precum on the tip of his cock — should be fucking illegal. "You'd better get to work, Vice Captain."

Oh, fuck you. Soshiro knows you know exactly how to rile him up, and using his title in that tone of yours is one guaranteed way to get him that much closer to cumming. You blink up at him expectantly. "You can't be serious."

You stroke his shaft with your left hand, the cool metal of your new ring sending electricity up his spine. It warms to body heat quickly, but the added texture is enough to keep all of his senses trained on your touch. He grabs a pen as you twist your wrist on the upstroke and he nearly drops the damn thing. "You'd better get them done correctly, Soshiro."

"I hate you," Soshiro chokes out a grunt as you suddenly engulf him in your mouth. His balls tighten and he snaps his pen in half, heat and lust and lightning gathering in a maelstrom below his gut. "Fuck, you feel so good."

You swirl your tongue around the tip as you suck, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing him down without giving him any time to brace himself. The wet, warm heat of you is heaven around his cock, the tight suction of your lips sending him spiraling with every stroke. It's hot in the office — sweat beads at his hairline as you settle into a steady rhythm, the wet, sloppy sounds of you drooling all over him echoing in the quiet room. "Yeah, honey, just like that."

Your eyes widen at the new pet name but your rhythm doesn't falter — if anything, you start moving faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat in a way that's driving him insane. Soshiro can't even keep his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, mesmerized by the bob of your head and the gleam of your eyes beneath his desk. He cups your cheek with his free hand, something light fluttering in his chest when you lean into his touch, even as you proceed to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Tension and heat coils in his gut. Holy fucking hell. You have one hand braced on his tense thigh, but your other hand goes to cup his balls, smearing your drooling saliva on them as he chokes at the feeling. It's overwhelming — you are overwhelming — and he tries not to hold your head in place while he fucks your mouth but your moans are so pretty and you look so hot with your mouth stuffed and —

The click of the door opening is the only warning he gets, but luckily years of honed reflexes saves the two of you as he rolls his seat forward, forcing you further beneath the desk and his cock further down your throat.

"Hah — shit!" Soshiro gasps as you dig your nails into his thigh. He throbs in your mouth. "Ah, fuckin' — sorry, Okonogi-chan, I just hit my knee on the table."

The Third Division's Operations Manager gives him a funny look, but thankfully she stays near the door. "I just came by to ask if your reports are done, sir!"

Your throat is convulsing around his cock and it's the worst thing he's ever felt in his life because if he cums right now, there's no way Okonogi will miss it. "N-not yet, sorry!"

"Well, let me know when you're done so I can add my files. Will you finish them before your fiancée gets here?" Okonogi glances around. "I thought she'd be here by now, actually."

"Nope, haven't seen her!" Soshiro's voice cracks. There's spilled ink staining one of the reports. You slowly pull off his cock, but the lightning rod of tension in his spine just coils harder. "I'll finish 'em soon!"

"Are you getting sick, Vice Captain? Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're sweating a lot and you're all… red," Okonogi says hesitantly.

"Aw, 'm fine, dear," Soshiro threads his fingers through your hair in warning when you make an aborted little sound. He coughs loudly. "I feel just peachy! In fact, I'm ready to zip through all these reports right now!"

You slowly sink down on his cock again, tongue tracing the vein as you go. Soshiro dares to shoot you a warning glare and nearly cums down your throat at the answering gleam in your eye. He's throbbing in your mouth and you don't even care. Fuck you're a menace.

"Well, if you say so," Okonogi sounds rightfully dubious, but she puts her hand back on the doorknob. "I'll check again later!"

The instant the door clicks shut after she leaves, Soshiro slumps into his seat, groaning low in his throat as you swallow him back down. It's dim beneath his desk, but he can clearly see tears gathering at the corners of your pretty eyes, and you moan as he carefully starts fucking your mouth. The tightly wound tension is incessant, a burn beneath his skin, a thrumming in his ears. You're gorgeous like this, choking on his cock and drooling, spit soaking the bottom of the seat as you blink those teary eyes up at him.

"Fuckin' hell, honey, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum," Soshiro groans. "Where d'ya want it? Down your throat? Are ya gonna swallow it all like a good fuckin' girl?"

You moan loudly at that and he huffs out a laugh, the tension so tight it feels like he's going to snap. It's the ring that does it — your hand disappears for a moment and when you bring it back into view, he catches the glint of the ring, glistening with your cum, because of course you're fucking soaked and of course you had to show him with his cock down your throat and —

Soshiro cums so hard he sees white.

There's nothing. There's sparks and light and heat blooming everywhere. Distantly he hears himself grunting a garbled version of your name, but his brain shuts down so hard he barely has the capacity to breathe as his orgasm crashes through him.

"Soshiro, Soshiro," you whisper, climbing onto his lap and pressing soft little kisses all over his neck and jaw and cheeks. Soshiro comes back to his senses slowly, panting hard as feeling returns to his fingers and legs. "Hey," you whisper, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his forehead. "Are you back?"

"You…" he breathes. His brain is still rebooting.

You giggle. "Me?"

Soshiro grips your waist to hold you steady as you hover over his cock. "Gimme a minute. I'm gonna make you squirt all over this fuckin' desk."

You laugh outright at that, dipping down to kiss him sweetly. He can taste himself on your tongue, but it doesn't bother him. "Okonogi-chan will kill you if we get the reports messy."

Soshiro runs his hands up your sides just to watch you shiver. He still feels hazy, floaty, breathless and loose. "You're stayin' the night?"

"Is that an order, Vice Captain?" you ask teasingly. Your voice sounds scraped raw. He hums, reaching for your dirty fingers. You watch with blown pupils as he licks them clean, his tongue swirling around your engagement ring and his canine tooth catching on your fingertip.

"Let's go back to my rooms so nobody'll hear ya screamin' my name."

He ends up making you squirt in the shower, eating you out messy and lewd as steam fogs up the room. You goad him into fucking you from behind against the door afterward, pushing your ass back with every heavy thrust until you both cum hard enough to warrant a bath. He washes your back and hair in the shower first, building up a lather of shampoo and twisting the strands this way and that as you laugh and complain about the water temperature, but the both of you are relaxed and pliant in the warm water of the bath afterwards.

You cajole him into one of the smaller mess halls afterward, your hair wet and dripping down your borrowed shirt as he sets two trays piled with food in front of you. It's late — way past midnight — and you're soft and giggly and clingy as you drape your legs over his lap and eat. Soshiro drops extra bits on your plate whenever he thinks you aren't paying attention, but of course you're always paying attention to him.

"Quit it," you grumble, "I'm too full!"

Soshiro snickers as you scoop the rest of your food onto his plate. "Whoa, is this what I'll get as a married man? Your leftovers?"

You roll your eyes. "Shut up, you spoiled asshole. When we're married you know you'll be doing all the cooking."

Maybe it's the late hour, but the way you say it — like it's a fact. Like it's a truth, and not a lie to appease the Hoshina clan and keep them from meddling in his life. Soshiro wonders when he started hoping.

"That's true," he says lightly. "You're just as bad as Captain Ashiro with kitchen knives."

"Don't let your family find out, or they'll tell you to find a new wife," you joke. Soshiro snorts, but it's quiet in the empty mess hall. You prop your chin on your hand and watch him chase around the last grains of rice with his chopsticks. "Tell me about your family? Is there anything I should be prepared for?"

"Well, ya know I've got an older brother," Soshiro says. It feels a little strange, mentioning Soichiro after all these years of (literal) radio silence. "He'll be busy captaining the Sixth, so we shouldn't be runnin' into him at the house. My dad's still an instructor, and he'll probably wanna know 'bout your combat levels. My ma…"

"Uh oh," you murmur. Soshiro sighs and takes your hand.

"My ma's always wanted grandkids." He watches as your face goes blank. "Y'know I ain't the type. I've got my hands full with my lil' fledglings already."

"Well," you squeeze his hand and offer a tiny smile, "at least this is fake. Your mom will get her grandkids eventually, even though it won't be from me."

You're quiet and distant on the short walk back to his rooms, but maybe it's just the late hour. Soshiro doesn't know how to break the strange awkwardness that's settling between the two of you — but you seem lost in thought, kissing him goodnight absently and quickly burrowing your face into his neck as if you don't want him to look too closely at your expression.

It's weird. You seem back to normal in the morning light, making his coffee and hugging him from behind while he brushes his teeth, but there's a strange distance in your gaze and your smile drops unnaturally when you think he isn't paying attention. There isn't much Soshiro can do about it, though — you go back to the First Division and your texts are… typical. You agree to take some time off to visit the Hoshina family home together and Soshiro just about wears down the floor of his office with his pacing.

"Vice Captain, are you sure you don't need a break?" Okonogi asks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you seem agitated."

Soshiro flops back into his seat and stares at the ink stain he left behind the last time the two of you were in his office together. The ruined report was luckily one of his own, so he just printed another copy, but unfortunately he hasn't been able to scrub the ink out of the desk. "Nothing to worry 'bout, Okonogi dear."

"Are you worried about your family visit? I'm sure it'll be fine, sir — your fiancée is perfect for you," Okonogi says. She adjusts her glasses. "But if you're concerned, you should talk to her. She'd want to know."

Soshiro doesn't think you want to know what's really going through his head — you'd probably run away. Casual. Friends with benefits. You were the one who brought it up, after years of working together whenever your Divisions teamed up, after plenty of teasing and friendly competitions and sharing meals sitting slightly apart from the rest of your officers. You always caught his eye, but of course he'd never assume you were interested, not when you had all those other options (including Captain Narumi) — so it had been a welcome surprise when you confessed that you thought he was hot. That you thought about him at night. That maybe having a friends with benefits arrangement could be good for both of you to blow off steam without any mess.

Soshiro still remembers your first time together — the first and only time you slept together in the First Division. Your rooms were smaller than his, but he hadn't had much of a chance to explore, too busy learning how to elicit those sounds from your lips that haunted his dreams for months afterwards. It was awkward at first, with bumped noses and self conscious laughter, but you had forged ahead as if it would be your only chance and it was so good.

It's always been good with you — good and easy. This weird… distance? It's unsettling. Soshiro can tell something is up, but you message him normally and there's nothing for him to hang this niggling feeling on.

He meets you at the train station a few days later and you smile at him like he's made your day. "Should I be calling you Soshiro-kun for this trip?" you ask, offering a canned coffee from the vending machine. It's early, and of course he hadn't had time to make his own morning coffee, so the can is a welcome weight in his hand.

"Yeah, but don't do it too often or I'll drag ya into a hotel on our way down," Soshiro says, trying not to stare. He pops open the can and takes a sip, eyes dragging down your form as you laugh. It's rare to see you in something other than your Defense Force uniform, his borrowed clothes, or naked — and you've shown up to the train station in a cute skirt and blouse outfit, looking fresh and adorable and not at all like you take down kaiju on a regular basis. Something about the dissonance stirs up a surge of protectiveness in Soshiro, though you'd probably offer to kick his ass if he voices this thought aloud.

"We're meeting your parents, Soshiro-kun," you scold, "keep it in your pants."

But there's a teasing glint in your eye and Soshiro snorts, reaching out to snag your wrist, pulling you close so he can kiss the laugh out of your mouth. The strange unsettled feeling is nudged to the back of his mind as you kiss him back.

The shinkansen ride is a few hours long, but you've packed bentos and seem perfectly content to gaze out the window at the flashing scenery as he reads a book. You doze off a few times, settling into his side as naturally as breathing, and Soshiro keeps as still as possible so you can be comfortable leaning against him. You later confess that the bentos were made from bits and pieces you had begged from the officers on chef duty early this morning and Soshiro teases you about making your bentos in the future.

"You can barely even function without your coffee in the morning, Hoshina-kun, how're you gonna make us bentos?" You're so pretty when you're laughing like this — lighthearted and sweet with your sparkly eyes. Soshiro knows he's staring openly now, but you don't seem to mind, leaning into his space to steal the last bite of tamagoyaki while he's distracted.

"I'm a man of many talents," Soshiro declares, just to watch you snort into your royal milk tea can. "But 'course I'll just make 'em the night before."

"That's good planning," you nod sagely. "I knew I picked a good future husband."

The automated announcements overhead remind the two of you that your stop is coming up, and Soshiro gathers up the trash and your bags in preparation to offboard. Both of you packed light, used to moving quickly through cities on long deployments, and it's nothing for him to sling both bags over his shoulder. You follow him off the shinkansen and through the station, always close enough to touch but careful to maintain a little bit of distance in case someone sees.

It's lucky you do, because as soon as the two of you step out into the balmy southern air, someone calls out his name.

Soshiro feels his shoulders stiffen and you shoot him a mildly alarmed look. "Well, well, well, if it ain't my lil bro!"

What the hell.

"And ya really brought someone! Ma's gonna be over the moon!" Soichiro says brightly. Soshiro watches with dread as his older brother approaches and promptly offers his hand for you to shake. You take it, amusement in the edges of your polite smile. "I'm Hoshina Soichiro, this guy's older brother and Captain of the Sixth Division."

You introduce yourself, shooting Soshiro a wry glance as you add, "and I know who you are, sir. My captain speaks highly of you."

"Oho! You're a member of the Defense Force? Are ya with the Third?" Soichiro asks. If you've noticed that Soichiro and Soshiro haven't actually spoken to each other yet, you don't mention it.

"No, sir. I'm with the First Division," you reply. "Thank you for coming to meet us at the station. We weren't expecting anyone."

"Aw, well, I wanted ta catch up with my lil bro," Soichiro says. Soshiro's mouth twists a little at that, but he faces his older brother and offers him a tiny smile. It makes his face hurt. "It's been a long time since you've been home."

"Things are busy in the Third and I'm further away than you are," Soshiro says. Thankfully his voice stays steady. You step a little closer to him, the back of your hand brushing the back of his, and he takes a deep, fortifying breath. "Is everythin' good at home?"

"Things are peachy," Soichiro says, waving them along as he begins to walk. "Dad's just finished up teachin' a new batch of hopefuls for the Force, and ma's been settin' me up with omiai every time I come home. Is that what you're here for, lil bro?"

"They just told me ta come by," Soshiro admits. "But I've got some news for 'em, anyway."

Soichiro glances back at the two of you walking so closely together and hums. "Yeah, I figured. When ma said you'd be bringin' a guest, I knew I had ta come see it for myself first. It ain't right that ya got such a cute girlfriend, Soshiro."

Soshiro can feel his ears burning, but you just shoot him a grin and a raised eyebrow. Well, if you're fishing for compliments… "She is a cutie pie," he says lightly. "But she's smart, too, and funny as hell. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He watches you blush prettily and avoid his gaze for the rest of the ride towards the Hoshina compound. Years and years of kaiju fighting and developing the Hoshina clan techniques means the family is pretty well off — Soshiro doesn't flaunt the family's wealth, determined as he is to prove his own worth — but it can't be denied that he grew up well taken care of and pampered in spite of the intense training he put himself through growing up.

The grounds sprawl in a valley nestled between densely forested hills. The buildings are traditional and the yards are all swept clean, tastefully interspersed with rock gardens and ponds full of glimmering koi fish. The sharp clack of practice swords echo in the balmy air as a clan member leads students through exercises, though Soshiro doesn't spot anyone out of the ordinary as Soichiro leads them into the main house.

He pauses before the sliding door that leads to where his parents will be waiting. This is fake — the two of you just need to get through this weekend, and then you can go back to your divisions and pretend none of this happened. His family won't expect any updates for a long time, and by then Soshiro can figure out if you… if you'd be willing to marry him for real. Maybe, by then, he'll finally be good enough for you. So why is his heart pounding so loudly in his chest?

You stop as well, looking wide eyed at him as you shift your elegantly wrapped gift in your trembling hands. "Soshiro?"

"I promise they won't bite," he murmurs, ducking close as Soichiro reaches for the door. He doesn't know if his older brother can hear, but it doesn't really matter as long as you feel better about this meeting. "I'm the one choosin' you, remember."

You blink up at him, close enough for a kiss, your eyes searching his for something before you take a deep breath and nod. "Right. You're the only biter in the family."

He snorts before he can stop himself, feeling hot around the neck and ears as he straightens up. Jumping into the middle of a daikaiju battle would probably be easier than this — than facing his parents with news of his engagement and listening to them tell him to quit the Defense Force. His older brother lets out a quiet cough before he slides the door open. The three of you enter the lion's den.

Soshiro has nothing to worry about. Hours later finds the two of you settling into the room you'll be using during your stay, futon laid out as you sit beside it, your legs tucked to the side with your skirt splayed out. The sliding door leading to the walkway is open, exposing the two of you to a small side yard featuring a koi fish pond, but otherwise the guest room is out of the way of the main buildings. Soshiro won't be staying in the same room as you, even if his parents did approve of the engagement, but there's still some time before lights out and he wants to be with you. You let out a deep sigh and reach for his hand.

"That went well?" you ask carefully. Soshiro squeezes your hand. Watching you interact with his parents, who he loves in spite of the sense of duty that permeates everything they do, and with his older brother, who he knows is so much better than him at everything — seeing you cheerfully and earnestly bringing up Soshiro's own good qualities whenever you could did a lot to ease an unknown soreness in his heart.

"You were amazin'," he says honestly. You blush.

"I just wanted them to know how amazing you are," you say. "You're the coolest Vice Captain in the Defense Force, you know?"

"Just a cool Vice Captain?" Soshiro asks, glancing over at you. He smiles a little to himself as you roll your eyes.

"Did you also want me to tell them you're an incredible lover?"

Soshiro laughs out loud at that, releasing your hand so that he can pull you into his lap. You settle there easily, grinning, looping your arms around his neck as he leans up to kiss you. "We can keep that to ourselves," he says. His heart feels light. "I didn't realize you were payin' that much attention to me. Stroke a guy's ego like that and he might propose for real."

A wall comes up in the depths of your eyes and he falters as he leans in to kiss you, but you close the distance before he can ask what's wrong. You taste sweet, like the daifuku mochi you shared with his ma earlier, and you kiss him like you never want to stop. Soshiro groans into your mouth as you lick into his, your tongue sliding slick against his teeth. You don't pull away as you kiss, merely tugging his lip between your teeth, sucking lightly and tilting your head for better access. You kiss him hungrily, messily, the kind of desperate kissing you usually resort to after weeks without seeing each other, and all of it sends heat lancing through his body and straight to his cock.

You're so fucking soft in his arms — delicate and strong and warm, barely resisting as he crushes you to his chest, wrinkling your blouse and slipping a hand below the waistband of your skirt. Soshiro can feel the rabbit-fast beat of your heart against his, hears the soft gasp you let out when he nicks your lip. A breeze floats in from the wide open door, ruffling his hair, and he suddenly remembers where you are.

"Soshiro…" you breathe, chasing his lips as he pulls back with all the self control he can muster. "Soshiro, c'mere."

Fuck, the way you sound —

"Quit teasin' me," Soshiro grumbles, hands heavy on your hips. He leans back and glares halfheartedly at you, though it's nearly impossible when your lips are spit slick and kiss swollen and your eyes are hazy with want. "Someone could walk by at any moment."

You blink. "Not my fault you're irresistible." You rock your hips slightly in his lap and smirk when he groans at the friction against his cock. "Are you going to jerk off in your childhood bedroom?"

"You'd like that," Soshiro notes breathlessly. "Are ya gonna touch yourself tonight? Here, on our guest futon? Are ya gonna think of me?"

"I always think of you," you confess easily. Soshiro's heart thunks painfully in his chest. You tilt your head and kiss the tip of his nose. "It'll be weird sleeping in this guest room tonight when you're so close by."

"I'll cuddle ya lots when we get back to the base," Soshiro promises. "Whatever ya want."

"Okay, I'll hold you to it," you say, kissing him sweetly. "I guess you should get out of here before we really give something for your family to talk about."

Soshiro laughs quietly and skims his lips along the smooth column of your neck. "You'll hafta let go of me if ya want me to leave."

You slide off his lap with a pout, waving him off with a small smile that drops as soon as he rounds the corner. Soshiro keeps walking, however, because whatever's going on with you is probably something that can wait until you get back to the base. He doesn't want to air out any issues where his family can hear.

After a long day of train travel and the excruciating anxiety of presenting you and your engagement to his family, Soshiro wants nothing more than to sleep. But as he approaches his room, he groans to himself. The light is on, and the shadowy figure waiting for him inside is unfortunately familiar.

"It's late," Soshiro says, sliding open the door and facing his older brother. "Can't this wait 'til tomorrow?"

"Aw, but I've gotta go back to my base tomorrow," Soichiro says. He holds out a bokken and tilts his head towards the yard outside, which is swept clear of rocks and leaves. "Wanna go a round? Or are ya still my lil Wimpshiro?"

The old nickname makes Soshiro frown. He takes the bokken and nods toward the yard. "After you, Bonehead bro."

They don't have any protective gear, but neither of them are really looking to hurt the other. Soshiro feels his muscles tense with familiarity and falls into the rhythm of his childhood — the clack and clatter of blades meeting and pushing apart, the shuffle of feet on hard packed dirt and the low swoosh as the wooden practice sword narrowly misses his hair. He can tell his older brother is holding back, but it doesn't feel disrespectful. Or like he's underestimating him. Unlike in childhood, when Soshiro knew bone deep that he could reach his brother with just a little bit more, now it feels like a mutual agreement not to wear themselves out.

"You surpassed me a long time ago, Soshiro."

The words make him jerk back in surprise. "Don't make fun of me," he snaps. "You aren't even goin' all out."

Soichiro sticks his tongue out and flicks his long braid over his shoulder. "You ain't either, lil Soshiro. I know you hate my friggin' guts, but I'm proud to be your older bro, y'know?"

Soshiro frowns. Keeps himself in a 'ready' stance. "Where's this comin' from?"

"I was listenin' to your fiancée gushin' 'bout your good qualities," Soichiro says, leaping forward with a strike that Soshiro catches with his own blade. "And I was thinkin' it's a damn shame she knows ya better than I do."

Soshiro knocks the next strike aside and falls into a flurry of practiced blows, meeting Soichiro's wooden blade at every twist and turn. "She's my fiancée."

"And she's a good one," Soichiro nods. "Makes sense that she's picked you outta everyone."

But it's fake — it's not a real engagement — you haven't picked him, not for real —

"If ya stay here any longer she might change her mind."

It comes out before he has a chance to swallow it down, and Soichiro's next strike misses him by miles. "What're ya talkin' about, ya dope? She'd never pick me."

Soshiro sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. Being around his older brother and facing all these memories again is throwing him off. He walked past one of the training buildings earlier and his father's voice had leapt into his mind unbidden — Soichiro is the Hoshina family's ultimate incarnation — and while he knows it's always been out of love and worry for his safety, he can't stop the bitterness from stinging in his throat whenever he remembers his family telling him to give up on his dreams of joining the Defense Force.

And it seems it's all combining into one awful swirl of insecurity that isn't even fair to you. Soshiro knows you better than to think you'd suddenly choose his older brother over him. Even if Soshiro is used to being a reject… he's never been rejected by you.

"Anyway, I'm lookin' forward to the wedding," Soichiro says, oblivious to Soshiro's inner turmoil. "Ten bucks says you'll cry during the sake sharing ceremony."

"Shaddup, ya bonehead," Soshiro laughs in spite of himself, startled out of his thoughts. "I ain't gonna cry."

"You look at her like she's the whole world," Soichiro says. He slides into a neutral position, his wooden blade pointing downwards. "When she births your first child, you're gonna sob like a baby."

The words are cold water thrown over his shoulders. "We ain't havin' kids."

"Oh?" Soichiro flicks his braid back over his shoulder again. "That's fine. I'll let ma know she can rest easy just dealin' with mine."

"Ma… won't mind?" Soshiro asks.

"Ma just wants ya to visit more often," his older brother says, "and she likes your fiancée. Said she's cute as a button and clearly adores you, which is all ma wants for us boys."

"You're gonna let her keep pullin' ya into omiai?" Soshiro asks, dropping out of his fighting stance as well.

"Not everyone's lucky enough to find a love like yours, lil bro," Soichiro shrugs. "Let your older brother show some dignity for the clan, alright?"

Soichiro finally leaves and Soshiro sits on the deck, bokken resting across his lap. The traditional buildings creak as they settle, a familiar sound as he looks out into the deepening twilight.

One more day. One more day in his family home, and then he'll be back on a train to Tokyo with you by his side. Tomorrow the plan is to give you the tour you wanted, and then catch the shinkansen after lunch. Maybe Soshiro can borrow you for the rest of the evening, too — you can always catch the next morning train to Ariake.

"Soshiro."

"Yeah, honey?"

You bite your lip before you reply, which is Soshiro's first sign that something is up. You acted normally during the morning tour of his family home, walking close enough to brush shoulders with him and smiling without a care in the world, and you snuck in a few kisses on the train ride back to Tokyo. But now you're fiddling with the sleeve of your pretty dress and barely looking him in the eye. The train station is emptying out around you.

"I think we shouldn't see each other for a while."

Soshiro's heart clenches in his chest. This is it, then. You've finally gotten tired of him — you've figured out that you could do better, find someone better —

"I love you, but I can't… I can't give you kids. I know that's what your family expects, and it isn't right to get their hopes up like this. I like them, Soshiro. They love you so much."

Soshiro's brain feels fuzzy.

"Wait. What did you just say?"

You frown up at him. Your eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and he reaches up to thumb at your cheek, brushing along the soft skin there as he stares down at you.

"My ma doesn't care if I have kids," Soshiro says quietly. His heart is beating so loudly he can barely hear his own voice. "They just want me to visit more."

Your cheek warms under his touch. "So I've been worrying about that this whole time for nothing?"

"I only found out last night, talkin' to my big bro," Soshiro says. "Do ya really love me?"

"You're an idiot," you breathe. You reach up to grab his hand and turn to walk down the platform, tugging him along. "You're coming with me. We're going to my place this time."

Soshiro lets you drag him onto the train to Ariake, lets you hold his hand the entire time, his rough palms scraping against yours as you squeeze his fingers. The two of you make it onto Ariake base unscathed and unnoticed. You lock your room door behind you.

"Look at this," you demand, booting up your computer and pulling up a word document that fills the whole screen. Soshiro leans over the desk to read it, eyes widening with every word.

"This is…"

"My request for a transfer," you nod, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest. "I wrote it a long time ago — before your proposal, actually. I've been in love with you for ages, Soshiro. I just didn't know if you…"

"I love you."

You blink. Your nose wrinkles as you pout. It's the cutest thing he's ever seen. "I had hopes, when you proposed, even though I knew it was fake, but you just… kept making me feel all mixed up."

"I thought I was lucky ya kept choosin' me, but my luck was gonna run out someday," Soshiro says, his voice cracking on the words. "You could choose anyone."

You roll your eyes and the tension pops like a bubble. "Why would I choose anyone else when I love you, Soshiro?"

Soshiro laughs, feeling suddenly weightless and warm and fond. He reaches for you, smiling wide when you step into his embrace easily. Your arms wrap around his waist and he relaxes into your hold, nudging your temple with his nose. "Will ya marry me for real, then?"

"Of course I will, you dummy," you bury your face into his chest. Your voice comes out muffled. "But you owe me a million cuddles first."

"Wow, inflation's really hittin' hard," Soshiro murmurs, laughing when you roll your eyes and kiss him. It starts off as a sweet kiss until you fist the back of his shirt and a bolt of heat sweeps through him. "Can I start payin' up now?"

"Yeah," you breathe, tugging him over to your bed and pulling you both down onto it. Soshiro huffs as he lands on top of you, the sweet scent of you puffing up from your blankets and pillows. "Kiss me, Soshiro."

The way you gasp his name does nothing to ease the lust clouding his veins, but Soshiro has enough presence of mind to obey, kissing you deeply as he pins you to your bed. He keeps one arm by your shoulder to prop himself up, but his other hand is free to roam your body, squeezing your tits and digging into the curve of your waist, dragging the silky fabric of your dress up to your hips. You're tugging at his clothes desperately, popping open buttons and untucking his shirt, but you keep kissing him all the while, as if you couldn't bear to part with his lips even for a moment.

"You're so gorgeous like this," Soshiro mutters, groaning when you palm his cock over his unbuckled pants. He throbs concerningly in your grip and he huffs a laugh into your neck. "I'm — I'm fuckin' sensitive, honey, hold on —"

"Get inside me quick, then," you murmur, shimmying out of your panties and dragging your dress off. Your bra goes flying off as well, leaving you naked beneath him like the finest feast in the world.

Soshiro pulls off his own clothes but doesn't enter you right away, determined to worship you the way you deserve when you're laid out like this for him. You gasp as he sucks and nips at your neck, arching into his touch as one large hand grips your breast. You squirm when he trails down to flick his tongue against your neglected nipple, kneading the flesh with his hand and switching sides just to suck hard at the other bud. "S-Soshiro you jerk—"

He laughs fondly as he kisses down your tummy, biting affectionately at your hip bone just to feel you twitch. His hands smooth over your thighs before he spreads them apart, scooting down the bed to settle between your legs. "You're so wet already," he says reverently, "is this all for me?"

"Please, Soshiro — ah!"

Soshiro slides two fingers into your wet, slippery heat without preamble, groaning as your walls clamp down on him. He sucks at the inner meat of your thigh as you rock your hips, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out and pressing into the spongy bit of your walls that makes you gush even more down his wrist. He laves attention to your other thigh as well, littering love bites all along your sensitive skin but avoiding where you want him most.

"Are ya close?" he asks, watching intently as you fuck yourself on his fingers. He adds another just to hear you whine, the sound going straight to his cock as his balls tighten. You look so pretty like this, desperate and hot, squirming on the bed as you chase your pleasure with his help.

You catch his gaze and he groans, scrambling up to kiss you hungrily. You moan into his mouth, tongue swiping along his own as your hands leave the bedsheets to dig into his shoulders. "Soshiro, please —"

"My gorgeous, perfect fuckin' girl," Soshiro grunts, removing his fingers from your tight hot cunt and replacing them with the head of his cock. He's leaking at the tip, throbbing and heavy, and you whine as he catches at your clit. "I'm gonna marry ya," he promises, moving his hips carefully as he enters you slowly.

"I love you," you whisper, blinking starry eyes at him as he bottoms out with a moan. Unfair tactics — you've got his heart rate flying off the charts, his entire body warm and tense with adoration and desire as he slowly pulls out just to bully his way back inside you.

"I love you, too," Soshiro says, fucking into you carefully so that he's nudging that spot inside you that makes you clench harder around him. "I'm gonna — gonna make ya happy. And proud and — I'm gonna keep ya safe."

"Soshiro, you're gonna make me cum," you gasp, giggling a little deliriously as your nails dig into his back. You wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer, and something about that makes his body run white hot. "F-fuck, Soshiro — I'm — !"

He cums first, his cock kicking and throbbing inside you as you fall headfirst into your orgasm, bodies shuddering and releasing in unison. Soshiro buries his face in your neck, biting down as he groans, relief crashing through his body as he floods your insides with white.

"I fuckin' love you," Soshiro says, peppering your face with kisses as you pant breathlessly. You giggle and run your fingers through his hair, the sweaty purple strands sticking up as you mess with it.

"You're an idiot if you think I'll ever stop loving you," you say softly. Soshiro meets your fond gaze and smiles.

"First ya call me an idiot, then a dummy and a jerk," he says, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say ya need some new nicknames for your fiancé."

"Hmm, I'll think about it," you laugh.

The two of you stay holed up in your room for the rest of the day, eating the snacks you have stashed around and talking and dreaming and making plans for the future. Soshiro's heart does a traitorous little flutter when you ask him to make love to you a few more times — because it is love, and it's still dirty and hot and you make him cum so hard he goes boneless, but there's love there, as always.

Soshiro wakes up the next morning with a handful of something soft.

"Soshiro… I'll kick you off this bed."

He snickers into the nape of your neck and removes his hand from your breast after giving it a gentle squeeze. You turn to face him, shoving your bare legs against his, and reach to grab his hand. The morning light is seeping in through your blinds slowly, but it still catches on the pretty purple gem and the shiny silver of your engagement ring as you hold your entwined hands up.

"G'mornin', fiancée," Soshiro murmurs. You drop his hand in favor of running your fingers through his hair.

"Good morning, my love."

[toastarchives]

summertime madness — narumi gen; kn8

"babe" as a petname, sorta rivals to lovers, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, 3.7k words

"Fucking bite me, Narumi."

"I'm trying, dummy!"

You stop your hasty escape abruptly, but luckily Narumi Gen's reflexes are good enough that he catches you around the waist as he stumbles into you, one palm slamming flat on the stucco wall of the alleyway to keep both of you from bouncing into it. His chest heaves against your back as he huffs. He doesn't let go of your waist.

"What did you—? Narumi, you just called the Japanese men's volleyball team ugly. You're the one walking around with shitty dyed hair!"

"My hair's natural, babe, unlike that bleached blonde sitting way too close to you," Gen grumbles. You can feel the summer Parisian air getting stickier with humidity by the second, not at all helped by Gen's body heat so close to your own. "Besides, I can prove it."

You don't even want to think about how he could try proving something like that. You dig your elbow into his side instead. "Get off me, dummy."

His grip loosens, but he doesn't move. You manage to spin around and his hand settles on the dip of your waist, his nose brushing yours as he grins cheekily at your averted gaze. "This is the longest conversation we've had since we got here, y'know."

"It's your own damn fault you're so obnoxious," you mumble, turning your head slightly so his breaths just puff against your cheek. The sticky heat feels hushed. Charged. Your gaze snags on the flex of his arm bracing against the wall behind you.

A distraction. You need a distraction.

"Your mouth is what got you into trouble with the Japanese men's football team yesterday, too. They were going to offer us free tickets to their next home games."

"That sleepy white haired guy was looking at you too much," Gen says flatly. You finally meet his red eyes squarely as the corner of his lips tugs up. "I can get you one of those chocolate muffins you were asking him for. Besides, I was just looking out for you — as your captain." Your cheeks feel hot. "Now why don't you tell me more about what you think of my mouth?"

"I think you need to shut up."

"You can make me?"

Your nose wrinkles before you can stop yourself and Gen laughs. He finally backs off but grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together and tugging you down the alleyway. "Save your shitty pickup lines for all your new social media followers," you bite out, but you let him pull you along anyway.

"Hey," Gen says, glancing at you from beneath his bangs as you catch up to his pace. "How come you never like my thirst traps? I post those for you, y'know?"

You digest this for a moment, torn between wanting to poke fun at him for lying through his teeth (how could they be for you when you're just you? it's gotta be for the thousands of new followers he gets every day now that he's an Olympian) and speaking aloud the admission that could change your relationship forever (but only if he's serious — though it feels rude, to question him, when his hand squeezes yours).

The two of you pause at a crosswalk and he tugs you close as the crowd presses in. Paris is teeming with pedestrians and cars and it's nice, being together in your own little bubble as incomprehensible chatter fills the space around you. Gen's better at navigating the street signs and the many twisting turning side streets, so you let him lead the way and he lets you stick close.

"Where did you even learn about thirst traps, captain?" It's the middle ground, a safe route.

Gen shrugs and you stare as his broad shoulders shift beneath his stupid "Sincere" t-shirt. "I saw some of the other athletes doing it to promote their sports."

"And you think locker room photos where you flash your abs will suddenly make everyone want to join their nearest swim team?"

Red eyes cut to yours and you blink. Gen's smile is lopsided, curled like a kitty cat. You want to smack it off his face. "So you have seen them."

Of course you've seen them. Not that you needed to — a shirtless Narumi Gen is not a rare sight for you, not when you've been training under the same coach for half your lives — but the thirst traps are… different. Whoever taught him to pose so effortlessly needs to get pushed into the Seine.

"What're you talking about?"

"You know I took those pics in the locker rooms," Gen says. He sounds so smug it makes your blood boil.

"It was a lucky guess," you lie through your teeth, "locker rooms are a classic backdrop."

Gen frowns. "How do you know so much about other peoples' thirst traps?"

You're nearing your dorms in the Olympic Village, and your ear catches other languages besides French and English swimming through the air. Athletes of all shapes and sizes and nationalities begin to converge along the path. Gen tucks you closer into his side.

"Uh, I don't live under a rock," you say, only to forget the rest of your thought when someone walking in front of you glances back to meet your eyes.

He's tall, with wavy brown hair and a pretty face. Something about his build reminds you of the volleyball team you just left earlier. "Are you two Japanese?" he asks, in perfect Japanese. He's also wearing a jacket with the Argentina flag on it.

"Yes," you respond automatically.

The guy's polite smile breaks out into a wide grin. "Perfect! What sport are you here for?"

"Swimming," Gen says shortly. "Excuse me, she's having a meeting with her team captain."

"Oho? And who's that?"

"Me," Gen says. The Argentinian Japanese guy gives you a sly grin and an eyebrow wiggle. It kind of makes you want to hit him.

Gen steers you away before either of you can say anything else. Goosebumps erupt along your skin as the blast of air conditioning washes over you upon entry into the dorms and you valiantly try to suppress a shiver. The lobby is practically empty compared to outside, but a few athletes look up and eye the two of you with blatant interest.

"There are too many goddamn hot people here," Gen complains. He leads you down a hallway and flashes you a smirk. "Good thing I'm the hottest one around."

You stifle the urge to roll your eyes, well used to Gen's bursts of ego. He is hot — you won't deny that, not now — but the thing you've always been drawn to the most is how he cares. It isn't obvious, like with any of your previous relationships. Gen just works extra hard out of sight — long practices late at night when he says he stayed up gaming, not knowing that you spotted him hoisting himself out of the pool under the moonlight, droplets glistening along every dip and plane of his muscled back.

Gen also doesn't interact much with the rest of Team Japan, but they all rally around him as their captain. Everyone is aware that they can depend on him to anchor their relays or direct them to the right venues because he's seemingly picked up a lot of useful phrases in those international video game lobbies (and in the quick study language books you've spotted hidden beneath the mess of his rooms).

You don't think he knows that you know any of this about him.

You don't know if it matters.

Gen ushers you into a room as you ruminate, shutting the door behind you and quickly shoving the mess on the floor aside so there's a clear path to his bed. You stare at him.

"Narumi… how is your dorm so messy," you ask helplessly. "We've only been here for three days."

"I have a gift," he shrugs. You can't help the laugh that bubbles up, but Gen watches you, pleased.

You shiver a little as another blast of cold air fills the room. "So what did we need to talk about, captain?"

Gen picks up a hoodie and offers it to you, watching wordlessly as you accept it and pull it on. It's oversized on you, dropping heavily to your thighs and covering your hands completely, so you shove up the sleeves as best as you can. "Thanks."

Gen turns around and crouches on the floor. "I can't do this. Fuck."

Uh, oh. Is the stress of competing at the Olympics getting to him?

"Um…" you crouch next to him and hesitate a second before resting your palm on his back. He's warm through his t-shirt, the shift and bunch of his muscles annoyingly attractive even as worry bubbles up in your chest. "Are you… good?"

"You'resofuckingcuteIwannadie."

You rub his back a little harder. "Narumi-kun?"

"I wanna eat you out."

Your hand freezes. Gen shoves his hands roughly through his hair and peeks over at you, a tiny frown on his lips. Red eyes skip over your face — pausing on your softly parted lips, your eyes wide with shock, the way your cheeks puff with a stuttered breath. You don't know if you should bolt or play it off as a joke. Years of a (mostly) friendly rivalry stack up in the back of your mind like weights.

You've always been rivals and teammates. Never competing directly against each other in the pool, but always there, ready to egg each other on to faster and better times. Supporting each other through muscle cramps and plateaus and practices beginning before sunrise.

But you haven't talked to him in the three days since coming to Paris.

"I want you," he says clearly, twisting his body to catch your hands in his own, "to cum all over my face wearing nothing but my hoodie."

"Narumi…"

"Just one chance," Gen says. He brings your hands to his chest and flattens your palms against his heart, so that you can feel the rabbit fast beat thundering away. "Give me one shot, and if you don't fall for me or my dick, I'll leave you alone and you can flirt with all the other Japanese athletes."

"You're lying," you mutter. You can't quite look him in the eye, so you focus on the pout of his lips instead. "There's no way you'd leave me alone. And I wasn't flirting, I was trying to get as many freebies and tickets as possible."

Gen keeps both of your hands pressed to his chest as he reaches up to tilt your face towards him. You squeeze your eyes shut. "I wouldn't leave you alone because there's no way you'd leave me after I'm done with you."

You can feel his thumb brush lightly along the soft skin beneath your eye. This conversation feels incomprehensible. You can barely hear yourself over the thundering of your own heartbeat. "You'd be done with me?"

He cups your face with his hand and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter. "Never."

The first time Gen kisses you, it's soft and hesitant, like he still expects you to pull away even after all this time. His lips are careful against yours, his tongue gentle as he swipes along the seam of your lips. You part them with a quiet gasp, an unspoken agreement, and his next kiss is a little hungrier, a little harsher. Heat bubbles up in your ribcage as he brings you into his lap, manhandling you in a way that makes your head rush, his hands heavy on your hips.

You clutch at his shoulders and sink your hand into his hair when he nips at your lip, drawing out a startled little sound and jerking in his lap. The movement brings you right up against the thick, hot bulge of him in his gray sweatpants. Gen pants into your mouth as he carefully, slowly rolls his hips up into yours, watching with hooded eyes when your head falls back at the feeling.

"You're so fucking hot," he mumbles, leaning up to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin of your neck. You feel the sharp nip of teeth and flinch, but he soothes the spot with his tongue before you can protest. "You've got a qualifying swim tomorrow, yeah? Hold on, let me loosen you up for it."

Gen reaches up and snags the blanket off his bed, spreading it out behind you before laying you down on it like something precious. He stays close, pressing his body along yours as he kisses his way along your neck, drinking in your stuttered breaths and quiet little gasps like he's been waiting his whole life to hear them. "N-Narumi —"

"Here, babe, let me —" Gen's ears are bright red, but he drags your pants and undies off in one movement, tugging when they snag at your knees and ankles and tossing them aside impatiently. "Fuck, is all this for me?"

Rough hands shove your thighs apart and you squirm, hot beneath the thick plush of his hoodie. Gen kisses along your bare legs, his touch feather soft at the bend of your knee and the curve of your thigh, so you get no warning when his tongue swipes broadly up your center.

You choke.

"Ha — oh, fuck — Narumi —"

"Quit calling me that," Gen huffs, diving back in like a man starved. He moans right into your pussy and you squirm, eyes clenching shut as every nerve ending lights up and dances like sparks to your core. His tongue is relentless, dipping and digging into every fold, circling your clit and tugging it into his lips so he can suck on it lightly, sending all of your thoughts spiraling into a crash of pleasure. Gen yanks your hips closer to his face as you begin to ride his tongue, chasing the overwhelming ache between your legs and throwing your arm over your face as you sob.

"Oh, please, please Narumi fuck," you yelp as he sucks particularly harshly at your clit. You peer shakily down and meet his eyes — darkened with lust — as he raises one eyebrow at you in wordless command.

Gen slides one finger into your clenching walls and crooks it, massaging a spot that makes you gush around him until you feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You're so — so close —

"Gen, please," you moan.

He hums and resumes the lightning fast flick of his tongue against your clit, the pattern and pressure somehow exactly right to send you diving over the edge of your orgasm with a cry. Oh — wow. Pleasure whites out your vision for a moment and dances at the edges as you blink helplessly at the ceiling afterwards.

"You've gotta be naked when we fuck, come on, babe," Gen mutters roughly, his hands haphazard as he pulls the hoodie off and takes the rest of your clothes with it. There's a brief moment of closeness as he reaches around you to fumble at your bra, his chin glistening with your essence as he scrunches his nose in concentration.

Gen notices your look. He wipes off his chin clumsily with the back of his arm and finally tosses your bra aside, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he eyes your tits. "You have no idea," he says, gaze flicking to yours and softening. "You've got no fucking idea how much you've haunted me."

"Your clothes," you remind him petulantly, reaching for the edge of his shirt. Gen gets the hint and immediately starts stripping, cursing under his breath when his foot gets caught in his briefs and grinning when you giggle at him. Miles of smooth, strong muscle are revealed inch by inch. You reach up to brush your hands along the divots of his abs. "I think your thirst traps are going to get flagged, by the way."

Gen covers you with his body again, interrupting your blatant ogling. The heat and weight of him is welcome. You whine at the brush of his cock against your thighs. "You totally saw them."

"They're practically nudes, Gen," you complain, nose wrinkling at the taste of yourself on his tongue when he dips down to kiss you. "You can't share your v-line on social media."

He's so warm and solid and strong against you, his hand cupping your tit and squeezing as he watches you twitch in his hold. "I need you to cum on my cock," he says, his tone low and desperate. "I've wanted this for so long —"

You reach between your bodies and slide your hand along his dick, smearing precum along the shaft and shivering at the silky length of him. "Get inside me, then."

Gen groans as the head of his cock prods against your entrance, his face falling into your neck as he pushes just the tip inside. You can't help but clench at the feeling, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stretch. It's a little bit painful, but in a good way, a pleasant, aching sort of way.

He pulls back just enough to push in a little further, short, aborted little thrusts that only serve to wind the coil in your gut tighter with every sharp grunt from his lips. Gen's cock is thick, stretching you just right and prodding against your insides until he's finally sheathed fully in your welcoming heat.

"Quit that," he mumbles, his breaths hot at your ear. "Are you trying to make me spill early?"

"Gen," you say suddenly, the thought piercing through the pleasure filled haze of your mind like an arrow, "what about a condom?"

"I'll pull out," he promises. Gen lifts his head enough to meet your eyes. "I'm clean. I got tested before we flew out."

"I did, too," you remind him. "We all did."

"Well, I've only wanted you, and you were ignoring me for three days…"

You stare up at him. "Are you seriously pouting about that with your dick inside me?"

Gen snorts and takes that moment to roll his hips, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he bites down a groan. You shiver, heat flaring hot up your spine at the messy, wet noises coming from where the two of you are joined. He gives you an expectant look.

"I'm clean, Gen, I've been too busy trying not to get run over by a car to sleep with anybody and besides, why would I want to when I couldn't stop thinking about you — oh you bastard," your voice trails off with a moan as he begins fucking you in earnest, his hips rolling perfectly to hit every soft spot inside you.

Your hands slide from his shoulders to his arms as he fucks you into the thick blanket and the floor, grabbing on for dear life as the shivering coil tightens and aches inside you. Gen huffs when you wrap your legs around his trim waist, grabbing at your ankle after a few thrusts and propping it up on his shoulder. The new angle makes you sob breathlessly, clenching around him desperately, and when he props your other ankle up you snap.

"Gen, Gen, Gen, fuck —"

The strong, relentless slap of his hips against the backs of your thighs fill your ears, the bounce and jiggle of your tits a mere afterthought of discomfort as he throws you over the edge with every perfect nudge of his cock against your inner walls. Gen curses under his breath but watches every expression flash across your face, bullying his cock through your orgasm as your pussy tries to suck him in for good.

"You're so fucking hot, babe, so fucking good for me I'm gonna — gonna cum, fuck."

You feel his cock throb inside you an instant before he pulls out, head hanging low as he spills all over your stomach up to your chest. Warm, wet seed smears along your skin as he leans against your propped up legs to breathe, a stretch you'd normally complain about except you can't quite feel your legs, anyway.

You glance down and squint at the hair between his legs. "Gen…"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Did you dye your pubes?"

Gen laughs and carefully removes your ankles from his shoulders, snagging a towel from the floor to wipe your body clean. "I told you I could prove it."

"I can't believe you," you laugh. You feel boneless. Satiated. Warm. "And you did bite me, you dummy. I'll still have marks during my race tomorrow."

"Good," Gen says smugly, pulling you up to drag his hoodie back over your body. You snuggle into the warmth willingly, yanking him down with you until his head rests against your chest and his legs tangle with yours. "I'm not done with you, anyway. How are your legs? And your back?"

"Will you massage them for me?" you ask sleepily. It's nice, combing your fingers through his hair with his arms wrapped around you. Gen folds into you like he fits, even though he's bigger than you. It makes your chest ache. "I'm not stiff right now, but maybe later."

"I'll give you a chocolate muffin, too," he mumbles. "The filling would taste pretty good on your skin."

"That's a waste of a perfectly good muffin," you frown. "Gen, promise you won't waste the muffin like that."

Gen leans into your hands as you scratch gently at his scalp and the soft, fluffy strands. "I promise the muffins are safe. No promises on ever letting you go, though."

You can't keep the silly smile from spreading across your face. Thank goodness he can't see you grinning like a fool. "That works for me."

Bonus:

"Babe! Babe," the anguished yell makes you flinch, but you'd recognize that voice anywhere. The area around the pool is crowded with swimmers getting ready for the next event, though neither of you are competing in this round.

"What the hell, Gen?" you yank him aside, hiding behind a few obnoxiously tall swimmers in case any cameras are trained your way. "We're supposed to be supporting our kouhai! What's wrong?"

"My account got banned," Gen says. You want to kiss the pout off his lips. Red eyes flick up to meet yours and his pout curls into a smarmy grin. "Lookin' good in the suit, babe."

"Shut up," you shove his face away and he laughs, catching your hand and lacing your fingers together. You turn away to hide your grin but he kisses your temple and you know he sees the curve of your lips.

"What? Can't a guy compliment his girl?"

"I reported your account for indecent exposure."

"HAH?!"

[toastarchives]

platinum ranking — narumi gen; kn8

smut, fluff, established relationship, "babe" as a petname, cockwarming mention, unprotected sex, raccoon mention, 1.6k words

"Fuck me."

You huff out a laugh. "I'm trying, you — ah — jerk."

Narumi Gen's hips snap up into yours and he groans. "C'mon, keep — keep it up, fuck me, fuck."

The thick length of his cock is perfect and unyielding and exactly what you need as you rock your hips, grinding your clit against the damp smear of your combined wetness along his skin. Gen hisses and his fingers dig into your waist, but you don't let up, keeping your movements shallow as you drag Gen's cock along every soft sensitive inch of your pussy.

"You're the one who said I could 'do whatever'," you point out breathlessly, chasing the sparks dancing in your veins. "I thought you wanted to get that platinum ranking?"

Your boyfriend grunts as you clench around him. You have a few seconds to appreciate the view — to appreciate Gen's t-shirt riding up his abs, the desperate flex of his arms as he reaches out to clutch at the futon, the messy state of his hair from when you dragged your fingers through it earlier in an attempt to rile him up — and then the world spins and you squeak in surprise.

"Gen!"

"You suck," he grumbles, leaning forward to lick into your mouth. You moan, kissing him back weakly as he bullies his way back into your fluttering cunt. "I'm your captain, you know? Can't you follow my orders like a good girl?"

A gasp escapes your lips as he drifts down to nip at your neck. "I did suck," you remind him, digging your nails into his shoulders at a particularly powerful thrust. "I sucked your cock until you got hard enough for me to sit on it, and then I —!"

"And then you just fucking sat there," Gen snorts, lifting his head to meet your eyes hazily. "What am I, your — ngh, fuck — your toy?"

"You're the one who was too — ah — busy playing —"

"Doesn't mean I can control myself when my pretty girl's sitting all wet and hot on my cock," Gen says. The low rumble of his voice in your ear makes you whimper. He hisses as you clench around him and you nearly sob as you feel him throb inside you. "Fuck me."

"I'm trying," you whine, swiveling your hips desperately. Gen tenses above you, the strong line of his neck hard beneath the bright, artificial light of the television screen still pulsing with a loading cut scene. You do it again, and again, watching with wide eyes as a single bead of sweat glides down Gen's temple. His bangs are mussed and messy, half drifting to cover one eye, but you can see yourself reflected in his gaze and it makes you squirm.

"Fuck me," Gen breathes, pupils blown. "Do that again."

You do, but this time Gen pulls back and thrusts to match your rhythm, hissing between his teeth as you fuck yourself on his cock. You gasp. "Does it — ngh — does it feel good?"

"So fucking good," Gen groans, sliding a hand up beneath your loose sleep shirt to grope at your tits. You can barely think of anything besides the hot, perfect glide of his cock inside you, the heat and ache in your belly ratcheting up higher and higher with every thrust — so when he pinches your nipple between his fingers you flinch.

And then you cum.

"Gen—"

"Oh, shit—"

Your boyfriend pants something that sounds suspiciously like your name as he cums, his arms flexing and straining as he struggles to hold himself up above you. His cock kicks as your insides flood with white, and then a moment later he's landed on top of you, sweaty limbs pressing you into the futon.

"Oof," you gasp, tilting your head to take an unobstructed breath. Gen's hair tickles your cheek. "Gen!"

"Fuck me," he grumbles, turning his head to brush his lips along your neck. In spite of yourself — in spite of your activities not one minute prior — your heart flutters in your chest. "That was so hot."

"You're squishing me," you prod his side, but you barely make a dent in his wall of dense muscle. "What are you, a weighted blanket?"

Gen laughs and his body shakes yours, but before you can complain again he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. "You need one of those?"

You sigh. It's easier like this for you to trace aimless patterns along his back, rucking up his shirt to draw characters into his bare skin. You can feel him softening inside you, but he makes no move to withdraw, seemingly content to breathe in your scent.

"Can we go to sleep now?" you ask softly. You shiver as he presses his hands into your sides beneath your shirt. "Gen?"

"I still have time to get a platinum ranking."

You snort. "Alright, but you can't nap in my office tomorrow, mister."

Gen lifts himself and you immediately grab his shirt. He raises an eyebrow, but the wry twist of his lips is soft. "C'mon. Bathroom."

"I don't think I can walk," you confess. Your whole body feels boneless and loose. Gen rolls his eyes, but a moment later he's pulled out and yanked his gray sweats back up, scooping you into his arms and making for the bathroom as if this is business as usual (it is).

"I know I'm a god in bed, but you should really work on your stamina, babe."

You kiss his exposed collarbone with a smile and snuggle into his strong chest, arms wrapped around his neck for support. Gen sets you down on the bathroom counter and peels your dangling panties off your thigh, tossing it into the laundry basket in the corner before caging you in with his arms.

You blink up at him. "I like when you carry me," you say. "It makes me feel safe." Gen scoffs quietly, but the sound is fond and sends heat racing to your cheeks. He leans forward for a kiss.

Your boyfriend never shows this side of himself outside of these late, tired hours, when the rest of the world is asleep. Sure, he's loud and obnoxious and downright silly in daylight, and a big fan of reminding everyone that he's dating you. But you're the one who sees this — the insecurities and the exhaustion and the weight of the nation on his shoulders. The rest of his division knows how hard he works, even if he tries to keep it a secret — but you're the only one who knows him.

The two of you share a few more lingering kisses and then clean yourselves up, exchanging your sweaty sleep shirts for clean ones, Gen snickering as your borrowed shirt drapes across your form haphazardly. You chase him back out to the futon, playfully brandishing a brush, only abandoning your threat to tame his hair once he snatches it from your hands in order to lace your fingers together and tug you down to the floor.

"You wanna chill here?" he asks, even though you're already halfway into the cradle of his cross legged lap. Gen settles and grabs his controller, clicking out of a few loading menus as you make yourself comfortable in his arms.

"Don't make fun of me if I fall asleep," you murmur. His chest is sturdy and firm at your back, his breaths steadily syncing with yours as you snuggle into him.

"If you snore I'm posting it on social media," Gen says. You roll your eyes and lean your head into the tender space between his neck and shoulder, listening to his heartbeat as the game soundtrack swoops in with a low hum.

You wake up the next morning with his arm heavy around your waist. Light filters in through the curtains, but Gen doesn't stir, so you carefully reach for your phone to check the time. Notifications pop up — you've been tagged in something.

It's a photo of the television screen. "Platinum rank", it declares, all bold lettering and bright colors. The photo is mainly focused on the screen, but in the corner you spot Gen's hand holding yours, controller set aside so he could lace your fingers together, both of your legs visible in the foreground.

You're tagged, but the caption is simple: I stay winning.

Then you notice the timestamp. "Gen," you sigh, "Hasegawa's going to kick your ass."

Gen stirs behind you. "I'm the captain here."

You stifle giggles as he yawns and buries his face back into your hair. "Captain, it's time to wake up."

"Gimme a break, I just got that platinum ranking last night," he grumbles. Gen's voice is rough with sleep, and you valiantly repress shivers at the sound. "You snore, by the way."

"Shut up," you huff. You pinch his forearm in retaliation but he only snickers as his lips brush your ear. "I don't want to hear that from you, raccoon head."

Gen manages a quiet noise of fake outrage before he nips at your neck, rolling you until you're caged beneath him, his thighs spreading yours apart beneath the blankets. "You said raccoons are cute."

"They are."

"That means you think I'm cute."

You blink up at your boyfriend, watching the soft morning light brighten his tired red eyes and catch shadows in his gray and black hair. He doesn't flinch as you reach up to cup his face in your hands. "Are you a raccoon, Gen?"

"I hate you."

"And I think you're very cute, raccoon head."

[toastarchives]

sore loser — narumi gen, kn8

"babe" as a petname, established relationship, suggestive, smut adjacent, 1.5k words

"Are you still pouting about this?" you try to catch your boyfriend's eyes in the mirror, but he avoids your gaze and slumps further into the couch.

You roll your eyes. Narumi Gen ignores you, fingers flying over his phone screen, looking annoyingly handsome in his formal dress uniform even though he's rumpling it to high hell on the couch. You debate for a second about warning him of wrinkles and then go back to putting your earrings in.

"I would've won, you know."

"Sure, Narumi-kun, but the fact remains that you didn't."

He tosses his phone aside. That, more than anything, makes you pause. Your attention-seeking boyfriend abandoning his daily ego surf? This must be serious. "I'm your boyfriend, right?"

"… Yes?"

Gen's gaze snaps to yours in the mirror as he gasps dramatically. "Hey! Why'd you hesitate, huh?"

"Because it was a stupid question." You adjust the straps of your dress and smirk to yourself as his gaze drifts lower. The setting sun is golden and hazy as it spills into his bedroom, sending shadows stretching across the floor and catching along the mess scattered underfoot. You've long given up on trying to keep it tidy, merely shoving half-opened packages aside until there are clear enough pathways to the bathroom and door and his futon.

To be fair to Gen, since you've started dating his mess has gotten substantially less… messy. That might be because the first time you stepped on something while fumbling in the dark for the bathroom, you had threatened to never sleep over again and to scatter Lego blocks all over his floor when he'd least expect it.

You have a feeling the Lego blocks were what sealed the deal.

"Baaaaabe," your boyfriend whines, hopping over to you and grabbing your hands. He shoots you a pitiful look from under his bangs, though it doesn't really work when he's taller than you and keeps shooting glances down your dress. "Why're you kicking me while I'm down? Don't I deserve a pick me up?"

"That sounds like a you problem," you snort. "Besides, we're going to be late."

"As Captain of the First Division, shouldn't I get to choose what counts as 'late'?"

You squeeze his hands, smiling reluctantly at his declaration. He's so silly sometimes. "I don't want Hasegawa-san walking in on us again, okay?"

Gen's smirk spells trouble. He leans down a little until your noses brush. His sudden proximity makes your breath catch in your throat as his body heat seeps into your bare skin. "Oh? And what would he be walking in on, hm?"

"Just a little something to make you feel better after losing to Captain Ashiro today," you smile sweetly, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He chases your lips as you settle back on your heels, hands spanning your waist and pinning you against the mirror as he kisses you again.

It's so easy kissing Gen. His lips are soft but his kisses are bruising, all-encompassing and hot, a drumbeat beneath your skin. His lips move against yours like he's passing along secrets, messages that can only be transferred through his tongue licking into the depths of your mouth, and you find yourself clinging to his broad shoulders and wrinkling the fabric there even more.

"I like these earrings on you," he breathes, his hand smoothing up your back to flick one of the dangling strands. His other hand drifts lower and you squeak when he gives your ass a squeeze. "And this dress. You sure we've gotta go to this stuffy shindig?"

You fiddle with the button of his formal dress jacket as you pretend to think about it.

Gen tilts his head up so you can secure the high collar, waiting somewhat impatiently for your answer. You drag your fingers along his cheek, passing lightly over the bags under his eyes. He works hard, your captain, even if he acts like an idiot most of the time. "You'll be missed if we don't," you point out.

"Can't I eat you out first?" he asks, his voice rough.

"Gen!" you laugh, but your thighs clench as heat pools in your core. "Absolutely not. Even if Captain Ashiro kicked your ass in long distance shooting, you still need to show up to the ceremony! Besides, what about all your other titles? Don't you want to stand up there and show off your awards?"

"Nah, who cares about that stuff, anyway?"

You eye your boyfriend's pout. What a fucking lie. "Is this because of the bet?"

Gen doesn't look at you, but his hands settle on your hips. "No."

"I never would've thought the First Division Captain would be a sore loser."

"I'm not a loser," he shoots back immediately, "I'm the best. And all of those guys know it, too!"

You hum in what could be considered agreement, except there's a glint in your eye that makes Gen frown. He knew what he was getting into when he first asked you out — you, the newest engineer trained specially in Numbers weapons, well known throughout Japan for devising ways to lessen the strain on compatible users. You had come to the First Division to tweak Numbers Weapon One and only stayed to make it your home base after Gen finally got you to date him.

And even after dating you for so long — after learning your likes and dislikes and the little quirks he associates with you — you still manage to keep him on his toes. You're easily his longest lasting and most serious relationship, and he has a feeling he's going to give you the rest of his life, too, because nobody else has ever come close to making him feel the way you do.

"It won't be that bad," you brush his hair out of his eyes and smile when he leans into the touch. "I'm sure Vice Captain Hoshina won't gloat that much, since we all knew you'd lose to Captain Ashiro. And you'll probably still look hot with your hair dyed another color."

"What — of course I'd still be hot but — wait, how did you know that?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I have my sources."

Gen's eyes narrow as he searches your face. "Don't tell me… you're still friends with that bowl cut bastard?!"

"I've known him for longer than I've known you, you know."

"Yeah, but you're my girlfriend!" Gen's fingers tighten around your waist, but it's not uncomfortable. He's always surprisingly careful with you, and the gesture warms your heart even as your brow twitches with annoyance.

"Don't be stupid," you tug a little harshly on his ear and smirk when he yelps in surprise. "He's letting me choose what color you'll dye your hair, but I'm not letting you have an opinion about it unless you can guess the color of my panties tonight."

Gen's eyes gleam in the mirror's reflected sunset and his lips curl into a smirk that tells you he's forgotten about protesting your friendship with the Third Division Vice Captain. "Do I get a hint?"

"You already got one earlier," you say primly, grabbing his hands and bringing them to his own hips. "Now hands to yourself, loverboy. We've got an awards ceremony to attend."

It isn't until much, much later that evening — once you're back in his room and he's shed his formal dress uniform jacket and shirt — that you take pity on him. He'd made guesses all night, whispering random colors and patterns in your ear between speeches, making you giggle into your sparkling cider while he watched with a grin on his face.

"Do you give up yet?" you ask, reaching for his belt buckle and leaning up for another deep kiss. Gen groans into your mouth, pressing you back into his futon as you arch up into him. His hand is hot against the soft plush of your thigh, a stark contrast to the silky fabric he's slowly drawing upwards.

"White with pink peaches," he mumbles, smiling into the kiss when you laugh.

"I don't even have a pair like that, Gen," you remind him. His hand pauses halfway up your thigh and skips up to your waist, the fabric bunching as he pulls you into him. Your legs fall apart to let him settle between them, but your dress is still blocking his view.

"I'll get you a pair like that," he says roughly, nipping at your neck just to hear you moan. "I'll get you all of 'em. You'll look hot as hell."

You've managed to shove his pants and briefs halfway off his hips and he quickly kicks them the rest of the way off, so the wet tip of his hard cock smears along the inside of your thigh as he settles. You hold your breath as he shifts, blinking slowly when his cock catches along your wet slit and he stills.

Gen's eyes are wide. You can't help but grin up at him as his jaw works.

"Isn't that cheating?" he huffs.

"I hope you don't mind rainbow colored hair."

[toastarchives]

for your birthday — zanka nijiku, gkt

fluff, 124 words

zanka finds out it's your birthday soon and spends the following days crashing out over if his gift is good enough and whether he should give you anything at all (what if you think he's creepy for paying such close attention to you??)

in the end, he hands over your gift with words that fit clumsy in his mouth, but he really means it — just wanted ta get ya somethin' nice, 'cause you're always lookin' out for me.

he gets you a gift, but the smile on your face and the kiss you press to his hot pink cheek have him feeling like he's the one receiving birthday presents. he already knows, though — for his birthday, the only thing he's wishing for is you.

[toastarchives]

break time lessons — hoshina soshiro, kn8

established (new-ish) relationship, reader is called senpai, dry humping, making out, senpai kink i guess, 2.1k words

"Am I interruptin'?"

You straighten automatically, sneakily waking up your monitor screen as you turn towards the sound. Hoshina Soshiro stands in your doorway, his face carefully blank.

"Of course not," you say. "Did you need something, Vice Captain?" Soshiro's expression cracks and you catch a glimpse of sharp canine, a flash of danger before his smile goes lopsided.

"Just checkin' in on my favorite senpai," he murmurs. You try not to react, but from the way his smile grows wider you know you've failed. "Didn't hear ya earlier on comms, and Okonogi-chan said you've been holed up all mornin'. Need a break?"

"You have more important things to do, Vice Captain." You force yourself to wiggle your mouse, like you're ready to dive back into the reports you've been wrestling with all morning.

Soshiro hums thoughtfully. He comes closer, and you have to fight to keep your breathing even. "I agree," he says, but your stomach drops as he reaches over to tug at your Defense Force jacket collar. You're wearing it unzipped, loose. It's too big on you otherwise. "That's why I'm makin' sure my senpai takes a break."

Heat rushes through you. "Would you please forget that," you mumble. "We were both drunk."

"Kinda hard to forget when I woke up with a missin' uniform," Soshiro says, grinning. "But I like how it looks on ya. I like this, too."

You freeze as his calloused fingers skim along your neck before pressing down on an unmistakable bruise. He's gentle about it — testing these new waters — but the heat that flares in his gaze makes you shiver.

"Sorry," you say. It comes out quiet, subdued. Soshiro tilts his head, dark purple strands catching the light with the movement. "I had an early shift that I forgot about. I would've waited for you to wake up, otherwise."

It's still so surreal to you — dating the Vice Captain. That he'd want you, that he'd been carefully making advances, sneaking his way past the walls you'd built up from relationships that burned you. Last night was your first night at a squad drinking party together, your first night sleeping in the same bed — and while you're still firmly in second base territory, you did let slip an embarrassing realization in the middle of making out.

"It's fine, senpai," Soshiro says lightly, but he breaks off laughing when you groan loudly. "C'mon," he adds, "I think it's cute."

"Quit teasing me," you grumble.

"Can't do that," he says, tugging at your jacket collar again. "But I'll make it worth your time. Ya got ten minutes to take a break?"

You have reports to finish, the bright screen of your monitor a blaring reminder of tasks undone, but — Soshiro tilts his head and grins, cute and disarming.

"What are you planning?" you ask suspiciously. You've worked together long enough to warrant the question. You can't help but think back to the time he invited everyone to eat at a specialty mushroom restaurant the day after a big fungi kaiju neutralization.

Your Vice Captain is intelligent, disciplined, and incredibly good at his job — but he's also a bit of a troublemaker. He'd never do anything to cause any real problems, but you've witnessed more than enough situations that ended up with Soshiro standing off to the side watching everything with a huge grin on his face.

"I just wanna recharge," he says, pulling you out of your seat with ease. You stumble into him, palms landing on his firm chest, blinking at the racing beat of his heart at your touch. "Can I hold ya for a bit?"

You nod, relaxing into his body. Soshiro is all dense, packed muscle, even beneath the soft fabric of his compression shirt, and you can't help but rub your face into the comforting scent of his clothes. "How was training this morning? The recruits doing okay?"

"The lil' fledglings are just fine," Soshiro murmurs. You feel his hands slide around your waist before resting at your lower back, keeping you close.

"I should return your jacket," you mumble. Soshiro's throat bobs as he swallows and hums in question. You can feel your own heart threatening to leap out of your chest. "You're a distraction, walking around in your compression shirt."

"Oh?" You can't see it, but you can feel him grinning into your hair. "That so?"

"Vice Captain," you say in warning, but Soshiro laughs and pulls back slightly to look at you. His smile is unbearably fond, clearly amused at your attempts to maintain your composure in the workplace. You can't help wrinkling your nose at him, sighing in defeat. "Hoshina-kun."

"I'll take my jacket back, but only if ya give me a kiss."

"We're at work."

"We're on break."

"Anyone could walk by and see us," you point out. Soshiro's canines flash as his smile widens, and you bite back a yelp as he abruptly grips the back of your thighs, hauling you up with your legs wrapped around his waist. "Hoshina-kun!"

"Yes, senpai?"

"What are you doing?" Your face feels hot, but it's nothing compared to the sparks skittering along your body as he kicks the door shut and carries you over to the low couch by the bookshelf. Sunlight slants onto the leather, warmth sinking into your skin as he sits with you firmly in his lap.

"Better?" he asks. This close, you can feel every shift of his body against your own, his thighs spreading automatically and forcing you further into his lap. You dig your fingers into his shoulders and try to breathe normally.

Soshiro hums, but it comes out strained. "Can I kiss ya now?"

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod.

He kisses you carefully, like he's still surprised he's allowed. His hand hovering by your cheek, a soft sound in his throat when you lean into it, into him. His lips are gentle, moving against your own and coaxing you open until you're panting into it, chasing his kisses every time he tries to pull back.

"This ain't fair, y'know?" Soshiro murmurs, squeezing your hip. He tastes like coffee, familiar and comforting. You sigh into another kiss and he groans. "Careful."

It's so easy to get lost in kissing him. So easy to chase the hot, molten feeling he ignites within you, all thoughts of workplace professionalism and private insecurities set aside for the eager way he reciprocates, the way he nips at your lip with a sharp canine and laughs under his breath at your answering whine.

Maybe it's all just the heady, sparkling lust of a new relationship. Finally being able to touch the firm planes of muscle you've always sneakily admired, finally allowed to give into your secret fantasies. You don't know how long his interest will last — sure, he likes you, but you've never been loved before, not fully, never been chosen over and over again in spite of it all.

Your fingers slip into his hair and tug. Might as well enjoy it all while you can. "Hoshina-kun…"

"Hm? Ngh— ah, wait a sec—"

Soshiro's hands are heavy on your hips. You blink, lashes fluttering as you take in his flushed cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," he laughs quietly, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. Your own face feels hot. "But I've gotta say, if we're talkin' about distractions, my answer's gonna be you."

"Me?" It comes out breathless.

"You," Soshiro confirms. Abruptly he rolls his hips against yours, holding you steady as your core presses into the thick bulge in his pants.

You squeak.

Soshiro's smile goes lopsided. The peek of his sharp canine shouldn't affect you the way it does, but you shift in his lap, unable to help it, wanting more of him.

"Senpai," he says, "how're ya feelin'? Recharged?"

You feel… hot. Achey. You drag your hands down his arms, fingers pressing into his biceps and forearms until you reach his wrists. "You should help me with your jacket," you murmur, guiding his hands from your waist to your chest.

Soshiro freezes.

Your heart is racing a mile a minute — is this too much? Too forward? Maybe he doesn't like girls who show their desire openly… but you've been dating for a few months now, and he's just so hot — surely he knows how much he affects you? He can't expect you to hold back when he's got you in his lap like this?

"Are ya sure?"

You squeeze his hands, biting back a moan as he squeezes your tits with a shaky exhale. "Hoshina-kun…"

"Fuck," he laughs, gaze intent on your face as he tilts his head in quiet disbelief. "I'm the luckiest man alive right now."

You don't know what to say to that — what can you say to that? You tug him close, kiss him again, roll your hips against his bulge. Soshiro lets out a broken sound, thumbs at your perked nipples, tries to rub them through your shirt and bra.

You kiss him harder.

Soshiro follows your lead, and the rush is indescribable. Heavy, honey soaked, desire laden in every kiss and touch. His hands end up back at your hips, helping you grind against him, rocking in his lap. He pants into your skin, sucks more marks into your neck as you shut your eyes and chase the feeling.

Your panties are soaked, damp, sticking to your folds with every grind, the thick fabric of your uniform pants bumping against your clit as you make a mess of yourself. You're close —

Soshiro groans, hips stuttering — "Fuck."

He holds you still, swallowing down your whimper at the sudden loss of friction, breaths shuddering in his chest as he kisses you hard.

"Sorry, senpai," he mumbles. He rolls his hips into yours again. He's still hard. "Go ahead and use me."

You're too close to fluster at his words, your entire body too hot to disobey. Soshiro plants his feet on the floor to help, the rhythm relentless and precise, throwing you over the edge before you have a chance to warn him.

"You're perfect," Soshiro says reverently, tipping your chin up with his fingers so that he can kiss you again. Languidly, gently — coaxing you back down to him. The haze of pleasure fades slowly, and you sink into his arms, listening to his pulse race.

It's not the first time he's made you cum, but it's the first time you've cum like this. Sweat glides down the side of your face, and you wrinkle your nose into his collarbone at the sticky mess in your pants.

"I swear I just wanted a hug," Soshiro says lightly.

"And a kiss," you remind him.

"The kiss was just for my jacket, but I really do like seein' ya in it," he says. "You can keep wearin' it. I don't mind."

"Vice Captain…"

"Back to formalities already? We're still on break."

You want to roll your eyes, but you settle for leaning up to kiss him again. Sunlight warms the side of his face, catches deep purple in the strands of his hair. "We are way past ten minutes, sir. I need to change."

"Ah," Soshiro says. "Me too. Wanna have lunch together after?"

You blink. Did you soak through to his pants…?

"I'm all recharged," he says, lifting you slightly off his lap. It's embarrassing, how easily you flush at the easy strength on display. Soshiro winces. "But this is a new one for me," he adds, "ya sure made a mess of me, cutie."

"I'm… sorry."

Soshiro snorts. "Ah, well, that's a new one, too. Haven't had someone apologize for makin' me cum in my pants before."

Oh. "Sorry…?" you giggle. Soshiro's answering grin is soft. "I didn't realize… you were still hard, Hoshina-kun."

"I'm all wrung out, I promise ya," he says. "You're really someone special, y'know?"

"You don't need to do that," you mumble, flustered. "We're already dating."

Soshiro hums and seems to let it go, helping you to your feet and chuckling when you wince at the uncomfortable dampness in your pants. You both take a moment to readjust your clothes and hair, erasing as much evidence as you can. Soshiro squeezes your hand before releasing it and opening the door, mindful of being professional now that you're out of your bubble, no longer on break.

"That was a productive meeting," he says lightly, as a few members of the Third Division cast the two of you quick looks before scurrying along. He lowers his voice until you're the only one who could hear him. "After all, I got ta learn what ya look like fallin' apart in my lap. My untouchable senior, so respected in the Defense Force."

You clear your throat. "Yes, I think we both got a lot out of it, Vice Captain."

"You really do look good in my jacket." Soshiro grins, the flash of his canines bright as he pauses outside of your room door. "I look forward ta learnin' more from you, senpai."