#kenji x reader

⭑.ᐟ Everything happened, properly, while Kenji was getting ready to mark his presence, alongside the team, heading to the arena for the match later on. — Coach Shimura ordered him to appear early, something that bothered the player. — Sato didn't need this, it was something dispensable, and he was forced to agree.

⤷ Due to the fact that he was unfortunately removed from your side; unable to cling to your body, cling to your touch or worship, lasciviously. — Longing to feel you once again; even though he had done this moments ago, he was still insatiated by you. — God, just by clicking his tongue, your taste reached his palate.

⭑.ᐟ Getting up from the bed, half-heartedly and with little enthusiasm, and admiring your serene and moderate image as you rested, Kenji fought the urge to ignore the order and lie down next to you; unfortunately and evidently, the sense of responsibility spoke louder.

⤷ And, knowing you like the back of his hand, Kenji knew you would disapprove of him if he did that. — Like a good boyfriend, he wouldn't make you upset.

⭑.ᐟ On his walk to the bathroom, assuming that he could put an end to the indolence that coursed through his body, Sato did not fail to feel some burning pains, small discomforts in his back, awkwardly running his hand around the area. — Ignoring, for now, the mental questions and went to the mirror.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji could already imagine the coach's voice echoing, unbearably, in his ears, scolding him for arriving at least a few minutes later than expected; and he was already reasoning out the most understandable excuse in his mind. — Or he would just say "don't worry, it won't hinder our competence", no, better not; but deep down he would like to say that.

⭑.ᐟ In front of the mirror, which showed his hair, in pure disarray and mess and his discouraged face, feeling bored, but, enigmatically, seductive, Kenji is worried, once again, about the discomforts of his back. — While uttering incoherent mumbles and swear words and directing his hand towards his skin for the second time, Sato allowed himself to turn towards the reflective glass, wanting to know what was bothering him so much.

⤷ And that's how he came across your art.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji's eyes examined, in fact, venerated with prudence and eccentric attention the marks, made by your nails, prominent and so protruding and, at the same time, deliciously burning exposed on his back; expressing an exotic, inconceivable and voluptuous sexual countenance. — The red lines, which blended into the tone of his skin, burned him both physically and mentally.

⤷ He couldn't imagine — oh, this cynical, shameless man believed it — that there was a small, furtive possessive streak coursing through your blood as you yearned, longed, to mark him.

⭑.ᐟ His fingers moved, still in disbelief, over a part of the skin he could reach, and he felt the current protuberances there and Kenji's lips couldn't stop themselves from forming a slutty, depraved smile. — He fucking loved what he was seeing, maybe more than he should have.

⤷ The moans, whimpers, and murmurs, that begged with desire for more, that came out of your beautiful mouth cried out in Kenji's mind; remembering, again, them like a song lyric he had memorized. — Sato began to identify a pulse, a throbbing in his dick and a wave of excitement flood his chest.

⭑.ᐟ Your boyfriend didn't care how fast he had to get to the arena, he would miss the time anyway, and then he contemplated what was captivated about him. — Showing off his corpulent, athletic back, wanting to see the marks better and not wanting them to disappear from view. — Kenji would beg for more of them later, he was sure of it.

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

you didn’t mean to cause chaos. really, you didn’t.

it just sort of happened—like the way koganegawa’s serves happen (loudly, disastrously, and with someone screaming in the background).

practice had been dragging on for hours. futakuchi was being, well, futakuchi—loud, smug, endlessly talking about how “date tech’s defense is so solid because i’m solid.” you’d rolled your eyes so hard you almost saw your brain.

but then he dove for a ball that should’ve been impossible to save—face-first, might you add—and somehow popped it perfectly into aone’s hands. and you, for a moment, forgot that he was the most annoying person in the known universe.

“you’re not so bad,” you said absently, handing him a towel as he grinned up at you from the floor.

and that—oh, that was your mistake.

because the moment those words left your mouth, futakuchi froze like you’d just proposed. his grin went from normal-idiot to i just heard angels singing in 4k surround sound.

and then he stood up—dramatically, of course, because futakuchi doesn’t do anything halfway—and turned to the rest of the team like a man delivering world-shaking news.

“everyone shut up!” he announced, voice echoing through the gym. “y/n thinks i’m amazing.” he dramatically flips his imaginary long hair. “sorry losers, i’m taken.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

the entire gym went silent.

koganegawa’s serve went flying sideways, smacking sakunami in the head.

aone blinked. very slowly.

you, meanwhile, stood there, towel still in hand, brain buffering like an old computer. “i—what?”

“you heard me,” futakuchi said, tossing his hair back like some 2013 heartthrob. “you think i’m not so bad. that’s basically a love confession.”

“it’s not—”

“too late,” he interrupted, already strutting over to where aone stood like a proud husband. “she said it. my girlfriend thinks i’m great.”

aone tilted his head. “you’re… dating?”

“emotionally, yes,” futakuchi replied, dead serious. “spiritually? we’ve been married for centuries.”

you almost threw the towel at him. “i said one thing—one thing—”

“and it changed my life.”

you groaned, pressing your hands to your face. somewhere behind you, koganegawa was whispering to sakunami, “should we, like… congratulate him?”

sighing, you walked over and smacked futakuchi lightly on the arm. “stop telling people we’re dating.”

“so you admit there are people to tell,” he said with a grin so blinding it could power a small city.

“kenji,” you warned.

he perked up at his name, immediately softening. “you called me kenji.”

“that’s literally your name!”

“still,” he said dreamily, hand over his chest. “sounds different when you say it.”

you stared at him. “you’re unbearable.”

“and yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you’re still here.”

you were still there. stupidly. unreasonably. maybe because futakuchi’s grin, when it wasn’t plastered on like a showman’s mask, was actually kind of sweet. and maybe because, even under all the bravado, you could see how his ears flushed pink whenever you looked at him for more than a second.

you crossed your arms. “you’re lucky i tolerate you.”

“you adore me,” he said immediately. “don’t even lie.”

you scoffed. “keep dreaming.”

“i will,” he replied, and something about the way he said it—soft, sincere, almost shy—made your stomach flutter in a way you were not prepared to deal with.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

later, while the boys were scrimmaging, you caught him glancing your way between plays. every time he blocked a spike, his head would swivel toward you—just to check if you’d seen it.

when you finally gave him a small thumbs-up from the bench, he practically glowed. like actually glowed. sakunami muttered that he was “so disgustingly in love it’s throwing off the team’s energy.”

and he was. absolutely. irredeemably.

after practice, he lingered as the others packed up. aone patted his shoulder and said quietly, “you’re… happy.”

futakuchi nodded solemnly. “the happiest man alive.”

you, oblivious, were busy stacking cones. you didn’t notice the way he hovered near you like a very tall, very smug shadow.

“y/n,” he said softly.

“hm?”

“i kept thinking about what you said earlier.”

you glanced up. “which part?”

“the part where you said i’m not so bad.”

“oh my god, you’re still on that?”

“it’s the only thing keeping me alive right now,” he said, grinning. “you basically gave me emotional CPR.”

you laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “you’re starting to sound insane.”

he gasped dramatically. “you wound me.”

you rolled your eyes, but when you looked up, he was still watching you with that same stupidly earnest expression—the one that made your heart do that inconvenient fluttering thing again.

“okay,” you said, setting the cones down. “fine. you’re… not so bad.”

he lit up like christmas morning. “say it again.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no!”

“you love me.”

“i don’t.”

“you totally do.”

“futakuchi—”

“say it one more time,” he pleaded, voice suddenly softer, almost boyish. “please?”

you groaned, face heating. “you’re not so bad.”

he looked absolutely feral with joy. “i knew it. i knew it. i’m calling my mom.”

“don’t you dare—”

too late. he was already dialing.

“mom,” he said when she answered, “good news. y/n thinks i’m amazing. you can start planning the wedding now.”

you nearly combusted. “give—give me that phone!”

he dodged your grab, laughing breathlessly. “you’re stammering! oh my god, you’re actually stammering—”

“because you’re embarrassing!”

“you love it.”

and maybe you did. because the sound of his laughter was warm and bright and the way he looked at you—like you’d just given him the whole world with one careless sentence—was enough to make something in your chest go soft.

so you sighed, pretending to be annoyed, even as you smiled. “fine. if i say you’re amazing, will you stop being dramatic for five minutes?”

he froze, eyes wide. “say that again.”

you did. softly.

“you’re amazing, kenji.”

for a second, he just stared. mouth slightly open, like he couldn’t quite process it. then—

“i have to sit down,” he mumbled, heart racing so hard you could see it in his chest. “i’m actually dizzy. is this what true love feels like?”

you snorted, tugging on his sleeve. “come on, drama king. help me carry the water bottles.”

he followed immediately, grinning like a fool, still half in shock. and when you brushed past him, shoulder to shoulder, he quietly whispered, “i’m never letting you go, you know.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. “i know.”

and futakuchi smiled like he’d just won the championship.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

that night, he posted on twitter:

but futakuchi didn’t care.

because for the first time ever, you said something nice.

and in his mind, that meant forever.

♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

a: futakuchi is so underrated

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@cvntyandfasionable @averys-place @anzuuhoshi @rabbitcola @forgottensniper @katzline @michexoxo @han0vyc @depressinglyobsessed @ghostwifeyy @crystal-lilac @wensurr @suha-reads

© showhay — don’t copy nor translate without my permission. i do not own any of the photos that i have used. credits to all the rightful owners. (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

ᝰ Kenji Kishimoto

Nonsense | @beautysamour

In which you were able to escape sector 45, but not all the people.

Only a fool for you. | @/beautysamour

Your boyfriend leaning on doorframes is one of your biggest weaknesses.

Undercover | @thelov3lybookworm

Y/n is being sent on a mission, and she’s rather be dead.

how you get the girl | @wheresmymilliondollarman

you were never fond of the newest recruit, but after being assigned on a mission with him, your perspective might just change.

My Girl. | @soulaires

kenji is drunk and absolutely have no brakes.

THAT’S MY BABY | @/soulaires

kenji and his intimidating gf

You fell in love, pretty boy? | @masivechaos

Kenji fell in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you.

ᝰ Aaron Warner

never go out of style | @/wheresmymilliondollarman

after a bit of convincing, you decide to let aaron join you and juliette shopping. maybe you should’ve thought twice on that.

hcs about being juliette’s sister and aaron being enamoured by you. | @/wheresmymilliondollarman

aaron warner x ferrars! reader pt. 3 | @/wheresmymilliondollarman

when omega point falls, you find yourself in need of the supreme commander’s son, and discover unresolved feelings along the way.

hold me, touch me, love me | @softtorus

Sweet Dreams | @/soulaires

Aaron loves his daughter, he really do. Hell, he would burn down the world for her but sometimes,, all he wanted was to spend one night alone with you—his beloved pretty wife.

Whiskey on ice. | @/soulaires

What’s the best thing that ever happened to you and why is it (drunk) Aaron Warner?

Here comes the sun. | @/soulaires

you were his sunshine, his light, the reason of living and his beautiful sweet girl.

Love Dilemma. | @/soulaires

in which your daughter thinks your name is ‘love’ because apparently your husband has been calling you that.

Rainy days | @lesbianjackies

you make warner go out in the rain with you.

taking care of you | @whousestypewriters

“fuck, baby- just like that.”

another sloppy thrust into your cunt has you seeing stars, mind blanking at everything except the sensations coursing through your body- from where his fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place, to where he’s buried deep inside you. a desperate kiss to your neck makes your skin burn has he guides your hips against him.

“you think you can take me a little while longer? hm, baby?” you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders as another jolt of pleasure sparks through your body.

tears well in the corner of your eyes as you whimper, and he kisses your apprehensions away, and you let out another shaky breath as he subtly rolls his hips into you, mumbling whatever words you could force out from your haze of lust past your lips: “s’too much, Kenji,” and “go slow.”

“c’mon, sweetheart- I know you can do it.” you buck your hips at his words, forcing him to cut off with a groan as his grip on you tightens. “you're taking me in so well.”

you practically twitch around his length at those words, body shaking as you chase his lips with yours as he leans back, screwing your eyes shut to abate the feverish burn creeping up your neck to your cheeks. he simply hums against you, trailing his finger up to your shoulder then down your side.

he has chased orgasm after orgasm out of you up to this point, but alongside the numbing throb in your core comes the burning sensation that arises every time he touches you, begs you for one more round. he buries his head in the crook of your neck now, breathing in deeply.

“c’mon [name], just one more,” he practically begs, voice breathy as he thrusts into you again, and you let slip another moan, dragging your nails down his back.

you can’t refuse as he fucks into you yet again, until all you can remember is his name; he throws your leg over his shoulder, running soothing circles on your thigh as he whispers to you: “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, i’m gonna take care of you, make you feel so so good,” and you just shake and take it because he knows you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anywhere else.