#kn8 x reader

he had been the one to bring it up, the talk of children, that is, which took you by surprise. it wasn't something you often introduced into your daily conversations. the responsibilities you had on your shoulders were far too much to begin thinking about a family, but on the day where no one was out to bother you, hoshina had somehow mustered the courage to confess a different form of love for your future.

"we'll have to carry on the names, of course," he grinned. "since my brother has the kanji for 'ichi' and i have it for 'shi', maybe we can have somethin' like that?"

you tilted your head to the side. "what, like, hoshina sogoro?"

digging his head into the crook of your neck, his laugh was like a remedy, soothing the knots in your stomach. "we'll think about it."

at that time, you didn't know whether that meant he was ready or if he was simply fond of the idea. maybe it was a small mix of both, but you were never sure.

yet around two months ago, you found yourself sat deathly still on your bed, pulling your brain apart for ideas on how you're going to tell him that you're pregnant with his kid. since that talk, neither of you had the time to bring it up again and still, you didn't think that this would become your reality so soon.

and so now, you find yourself lingering outside the operations lab where hoshina's currently stationed. judging from the roars and crashes, you can only assume that he's battling out his limits with weapons 10.

"vice-captain!"

you lift your head up at the sound of okonogi's voice echoing throughout the lab. then, the clanging from inside the simulation room comes to a halt.

"sorry for the interruption," she announces, "but (name) is here to see─"

you bolt up from your seat and slap your hand to your earpiece, whispering in frantic hushes. "konomi! nonono! i'll wait, i'll wait!"

"─you, uah!" she interrupts herself and you hear her stumble about. "vice-captain! nevermind!"

there's incoherent murmurs coming from the end of your line and you stay rooted to your spot until okonogi enters the call again. you can only sigh, rubbing your temples as she scrambles through her speech.

"uh, she... is not ready yet!"

it's not the best save, but you hope that it does at least buy you some time to think this through.

another buzz rings and your stomach drops at the sound of someone else.

"bring her in, i wanted a break anyway."

there's a pause before okonogi babbles a rapid cycle of apologies and you watch the door hiss open, revealing hoshina standing in the centre of the room. he's in the middle of reprimanding 10 again, his face contorted into a deep frown as they squabble back and forth.

once you start walking, though, his face lights up like a flash, as if the stress concerning the sentient suit goes flying out his head. he looks up at the window of the lab and shoots a quick thumbs up, signalling that he's finished with training for the day and within minutes, the screens surrounding him power off.

he grins as he meets you in the middle, tail swishing about like it's been eagerly waiting. "hoh, i didn't think i'd be visited by my lovely lady here of all places."

you don't miss the way the dot in his chest drills its glares into your skull or how hoshina has his head tilted with interest. honestly, with the way they're both staring─you have essentially interrupted their training, the fact that you haven't thought of single way to tell him hits you harder than you expected.

hoshina notices you waver and reaches out to touch your elbow. "everythin' ok?"

"yeah," you answer, but hoshina doesn't look convinced. "i mean, i have something to tell you. can we go back to my room?"

you bite your lip and his eyes flick down to them. he takes a step forward and opens his mouth, but 10's obnoxious growl takes over.

"clearly not important enough that she isn't saying it right now," it scoffs, but hoshina clicks his tongue and pokes its eye with the end of his blade.

"it's important enough that she came to find me," he argues, his expression scrunched up as he hisses at his chest. "don't speak like that about her, ya stupid suit."

"it's not my fault," it bites back, tail dangerously lurking around your feet until hoshina kicks it to the side. "besides, this could be a trap. something hasn't awoken within her."

the colour drains from your face as 10's eye flicks towards you. "woman, are you hiding some sort of innate power?"

hoshina huffs. "what the hell are ya talkin' about? did training make ya more dumb?"

dread seeps into your bones as the shield of courage you built up for this moment starts shrinking under their loud volume. you know exactly what 10 means by that, but you wonder if hoshina caught onto it too or was ignoring it as one of its usual nonsense.

you're viciously pulled out of your thoughts as 10 raises its tail past your legs, but luckily for you, hoshina grabs and chucks it away again.

"don't touch her!"

"i'm pointing out the thing!"

hoshina exhales through his nose, angrily. "what thing?!"

"soshiro," you call and the two stop. "let's just go─"

suddenly, the tail whips up and points at your stomach. "there's something in there!"

you feel your world stop as hoshina goes silent. his lips are parted as his stare lingers at the very spot where 10's tail hovers and you watch, without a word, at how his mouth trembles ever so slightly as if he can't devise a proper structure of words, as if nothing he'll say will make sense to him.

there's only one answer as to what it could be, there's only one thing that repeats in hoshina's mind because you literally had a deep conversation about this. it's too convenient, the timing is too right.

a long pause ensues as the two of you─three, or if 10 wants its way, four of you stay absolutely still. only the whir of the machines around you fill the room.

"soshiro," you whisper, looking down at your palms. "i'm sorry, you've always made it clear to me that communication is important, and i know that, so i wanted to tell you as soon as possible."

you sense his eyes on you, right on the top of your head like the usual affectionate pokes he gives you, and it's light with no blame to hold, no grudge or any drop of resentment. it doesn't feel heavy and you're tempted to look into his eyes and start this whole conversation from the beginning again.

you've known hoshina for a long time and throughout those years, he's never raised his voice and even now, he mirrors the same look he gives you when no words are exchanged but the message and emotions are so clear.

he'll dedicate his everything to you, and he means it.

impatient under the gruelling stillness, 10 grumbles. "how long are─"

"(name)," hoshina breathes. he sucks in a deep breath. "you're being serious?"

hoshina sounds... hopeful. his delicate tone just about reaches your ears and you find yourself looking up, searching for the small joke he normally makes, but all you see is how he yearns for an answer he wants to hear from you.

you nod. "i'm being serious."

it happens gradually, but hoshina winds his arms around your waist more gently than ordinary. he looks down as he traces lines on your hip, but when he stops just there, you watch him let out a shaky sigh, his thumb hesitant to inch any closer.

"it's ok," you say, calmly. you glance up with a small smile, catching his cautious gaze and take a hold of his hand. "i mean, he or she isn't completely there yet, but it's real."

"i swear, i'm gonna make 10 pay for this," hoshina murmurs, his body close so that only you can hear. "lemme get this off and we'll go back, ok?"

shockingly, 10 stays strangely quiet throughout the process of removing the suit, like it realises its mistake of blurting out what was meant to be a happy surprise. it returns to its glass pod and soon, you're walking back to your room with hoshina besides you.

you hear him chuckle to himself and when you turn to him he has his forehead pressed to his palm as he lets out puffs of short laughter.

"what?" you ask and he stops, letting his hand slide back down to his side.

he tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling with a wide smile. "ah, nothin'. i just... can't believe it, can't believe that stupid suit."

"soshiro, trust me," you start, running a hand through your hair. "i wanted to tell you, but it─"

"i don't blame you for that, love, don't worry," he says, shaking his head as you both turn the corner. "it's my bad, i should've taken it off sooner."

"well, i guess no that it knows too, we can attach a baby strap to 10 and teach it how to handle babies, yeah?"

hoshina bursts out laughing as he playfully nudges your shoulder. "ya think that stupid suit's gonna agree to that?"

"why not?" you shrug, letting the smile on your lips run free. "our baby will be well-protected from anything!"

mimicking each other's jokes, you enter your room and as soon as you do, hoshina has his arms around you again, his nose tucked into your collarbone as if you hold the most precious scent he's ever known. he mumbles into you, sending streams of tingles up your neck as you nestle into his tenderness all the same.

"we might not be perfect," he whispers, "i might not be, but we'll do our best. i'll do whatever i can."

"me too," you reply, resting your chin on his shoulder. "gotta make sure vice-cap hoshina knows how to use baby straps and baby talk."

you hear him scoff as he pulls back, sliding his hand up and down your arm with squeezes. you can still feel his breath on your skin as he glances between your face and stomach with a bright shine in his red hues.

"i'll make sure the both of you are always loved," he promises, then he catches your eyes again and shoots you a smirk, "well, not that i wasn't good at that before you became the mother of my kid anyway."

They’d been firing you with questions since dinner started. Honestly, you’d been hiding in Narumi’s room ever since training ended, trying to avoid this exact conversation. But now that it had exploded into an interrogation, you were equally annoyed… and amused.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” you said, raising your hands. “It’s not like I wanted to keep it a secret. But like Captain Ashiro said, we’ve all been swamped. We kind of... forgot to tell anyone.”

“Forgot? ” Okonogi questioned, unimpressed. “You forgot you got married?”

You winced. “Technically, Narumi did tell someone.”

You turned your eyes to Hoshina, who blinked.

“You,” you said pointedly. “He told you. But you laughed at him and said no one would marry him. After that, I was too embarrassed to say anything.”

The whole table turned to Hoshina, whose face was now unreadable.

He threw up his hands in surrender. “Come on, it is funny. I mean — it’s Narumi. The guy still acts like a middle schooler. Who the hell would look at him and go, ‘Yeah, husband material’?”

“Still funny now?” 

A familiar voice cut through the air, smug and unbothered. All heads turned to look at Captain Narumi who strolled up behind you, tray in hand, smirking. 

“I’ve got a pretty wife,” he said with a shrug. “Meanwhile, you’re all single and nosy.”

Before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Ashiro looked seconds away from spilling her tea. Haruto dropped his chopsticks. Okonogi choked on her rice. Hoshina’s face twisted in annoyance.

“You two are insufferable,” Hoshina muttered.

Narumi took the seat beside you, grinning like he just won a competition. “Jealous?”

You elbowed him lightly, trying not to laugh. “Stop provoking them.”

laughter shook through his shoulders as said man stood a few feet away in the shallow waves, hands raised in surrender. “sorry, sorry! i just wanted to test the temperature for you”

you shot a glare at your lover, right before splashing him back.

that was all it took.

soon it escalated into a full on water fight, kafka gasping dramatically whenever you doused him more in the cool liquid.

“HEY—that one was personal.”

“you started it!”

he chased you through the waves, laughing so hard he ended up tripping and swallowed a load of water after falling face-first that resulted in you hauling him out by the waist as the poor guy coughed violently.

once you laid him back on the towel, kafka seemed to revive; sitting up instantly and scratching the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “sorry for that..” he trailed off, a faint blush on his cheeks from embarrassment. “are you cold?” he asked suddenly, noticing you shivering a little from the breeze.

when you nodded, he grabbed another towel and draped it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side without hesitation.

“see? that’s why you’ve got me,” he said proudly. “professional warmth provider.”

you rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the ocean and the steady heartbeat under your ear.

kafka stared out at the horizon, content.

moments like this—having fun, being close, feeling normal—were his favorite. though he secretly prays you don’t mention his small incident to any of your friends.

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NARUMI had claimed his spot on the beach the moment you arrived; towel set perfectly, sunglasses on, phone in hand. he was already deep into a game, thumbs moving rapidly as the sun shined overhead.

“this is peak relaxation,” he muttered. “try it sometime.”

you stood over him, hands on your hips. “we just got here.”

“exactly,” narumi replied lazily, not bothering to look up from his phone. “and i’m already winning.”

oh well. if he wasn’t going to make this easy, then you weren’t going to either.

you leaned down, placing your palm directly over the screen to block his view.

“come swim with me.”

your boyfriend sighed. “the ocean is wet. and cold. and full of effort.”

ignoring his whines, you grabbed his arm.

he didn’t budge.

you tugged harder—which made him groan.

“unbelievable...i’m being bullied at a public beach.”

but eventually, with enough pulling (and mild threats), he stood up. “fine, fine—but i’m blaming you if i lose my streak.”

at first, he dragged his feet through the sand, clearly unimpressed.

then someone nearby started a casual volleyball game.

one ball bounced a little too close—gen caught it without thinking.

it was in that moment when narumi quite literally locked in.

his slouched posture straightened, his eyes sharpened behind the sunglasses.

“oh? so that’s how we’re playing huh?”

next thing you knew, he was diving for balls, spiking like his life depended on it.

and the yelling. guess he doesn’t shout only in videogames.

“LET’S GO!” “POINT FOR US!” “DON’T UNDERESTIMATE ME YOU—”

you could only stare in disbelief.

“weren’t you just tired five minutes ago!?”

“that was before competition was involved!” he shot back.

by the end, narumi was breathing hard, messy hair stuck to his skin everywhere. but he was grinning in victory.

“...okay,” he admitted, pushing his glasses up (how did they not fall off?). “that was actually fun.”

you laughed, handing him a drink.

he flopped back onto the towel beside you laying on his side, chin in hand.

“next time, you better be on my team.”

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RENO lingered a few steps behind you, soles half-buried in the sand as he stared out at the water.

“...it’s brighter than i thought,” he mumbled, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

glancing back at him, you smiled. “you okay?”

he nodded a little too quickly.

“yeah! totally. just uh—sun, you know.”

it wasn’t until you noticed how stiff his shoulders were that it clicked.

“reno,” you said gently, holding up the sunscreen bottle. “c’mere.”

he froze.

“you can just—i mean, i can do it—” he stammered, the tips of his ears turning red.

raising a brow, you countered with a simple “you’ll miss spots if you do.”

that was enough to convince him.

he turned his back to you after pulling his shirt off, shoulders tense as you spread sunscreen over his skin, your hands careful and cool. reno sucked in a breath at the first touch, fingers curling at his sides.

“s-sorry. i’m just not used to this.”

“it’s okay,” you reassured softly. “you’re doing fine.”

by the time you finished, his blush had crept all the way down his neck.

later, you walked along the shoreline together, shoes abandoned behind somewhere, waves brushing your ankles. reno kept glancing down at the sand, crouching every so often to pick something up.

“this one’s kinda cool,” he held out the small shell to inspect. “it’s not broken.”

“like you.”

that made him laugh a little. “you’re bad at compliments.”

yet he still pressed the shell in your hand.

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“yer gonna get knocked over if ya keep standin’ like that.” HOSHINA warned.

you shot him a look in response. “i’m fine.”

the wave that hit you immediately after proved him right.

he caught your hand just in time, fingers firm but warm.

“told ya.”

“you didn’t have to grab me like that.” you responded, steadying yourself while the water receded.

“yeah,” he said lightly. “but i wanted to.”

as you paddled deeper, hoshina positioned himself slightly in front of you, shoulders squared toward the incoming waves. every time one crashed a little harder, he adjusted to shield you without hesitation.

“ya swim slow. ever consider training more?” he teased.

you splashed water at him. “says the guy who’s holding my hand.”

soshiro grinned at your tone. “exactly. gotta protect ya from yerself.”

another wave rolled past, and before you could brace yourself, the swordsman tilted his head, eyes opening to glint with something unmistakably mischievous, letting go of your hand.

“race ya to the shore,” he said casually.

“what—hey—!”

too late.

the violet-haired menace took off, slicing through the water with infuriating ease. you followed after him, competitive instinct fueling in despite yourself. for a moment, you were keeping up—and you were just about to feel smug about it— when he disappeared beneath the surface.

you paused, looking around. “soshiro?”

a second later, you felt it.

a hand wrapped gently around your ankle, tugging you under with not-so-gentle force. your breath hitched as the water swallowed you whole, panic flaring—until his other hand wrapped around your waist.

before you could react, hoshina pulled you close, bubbles escaping in a quiet chuckle as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. then kicked upward, bringing you both to the surface in one fluid motion.

you gasped for air, heart racing, though his arms were still secure around you.

“SOSHIRO!”

the grin on his face told you that he was clearly unapologetic. “you okay?”

you stared at him for a second, trying (and failing) to hold onto your anger.

“next time you pull shit like that,” you jabbed a finger lightly into his chest. “i’m actually pushing you under.”

hoshina hummed thoughtfully, nodding once.

The soft hum of the air conditioning unit in Narumi's room did little to cut the summer heat that clung to the air. Gen is slouched in his worn gaming chair, thumbs flying over the controller as explosions lit up the massive screen mounted on the wall. The room was a testament to his divided life: one wall plastered with tactical maps and kaiju reports, the other cluttered with empty energy drink cans, a half-eaten ramen cup, and shelves of video games. His black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, feet propped on a stool as he battled through a particularly grueling level of his favorite shooter game.

His girlfriend, sprawled across his unmade bed a few feet away, her short plaid skirt riding up her thighs as she flipped idly through a magazine. They'd been dating for nearly a year now, ever since a post-mission debrief had turned into a heated make-out session in the locker rooms. She worked as a tech analyst for the Defense Force, her days filled with data streams and simulations, but tonight, she wanted nothing more than Gen's undivided attention. The way his hair fell over his forehead in concentration, the flex of his biceps as he gripped the controller—it all stirred something primal in her. But he'd been at it for over an hour, grunting at the screen, ignoring her sighs and the way she stretched languidly, hoping to catch his eye.

Boredom turned to frustration, a slow burn in her chest. She tossed the magazine aside, the pages fluttering to the floor, and slid off the bed. Her bare feet padded softly across the cool tile as she approached him from behind, her hands itching to disrupt his focus. Leaning over his shoulder, she pressed her lips to the side of his neck, right where his pulse throbbed steadily. She sucked gently at first, her tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin, then harder, drawing the flesh between her teeth until a red mark bloomed under her mouth—a hickey, possessive and bold.

Gen's body tensed, his character on screen dodging a virtual blast by mere pixels. A low rumble built in his throat, but he didn't stop playing. Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers splaying over the hard ridges of his abs beneath the thin shirt. She dragged her nails lightly, feeling the heat radiating from him, inching lower toward the waistband of his sweatpants where she could already see the faint outline of his growing erection.

Before her fingers could brush the fabric, Gen's free hand shot up, capturing her wrist in a firm grip. He paused the game with a click, twisting slightly in the chair to fix her with a narrowed gaze, his dark eyes sharp and amused. "What the hell are you doing?" His voice was rough.

She pouted, leaning closer so her breasts pressed against his back, her free hand still hovering near his lap. "I'm bored out of my mind, Gen. I want your attention. On me." Her words came out in a husky demand, her hips shifting restlessly against the chair's arm.

He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through his chest, but released her wrist only to resume the game. "Not now. I'm in the middle of a level—boss fight. Wait 'til I finish this, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't walk straight tomorrow."

She huffed, stepping back with crossed arms, her cheeks flushing with annoyance. She watched him dive back in, the screen flashing with gunfire and shrieks. The room filled with the electronic chaos, but her mind raced with images of him pinning her down, his cock buried deep. Minutes dragged on, each one amplifying her ache. She couldn't take it anymore. Circling around, she perched on the edge of his desk, her hand darting out to cup the bulge in his sweatpants. She gave it a firm squeeze, feeling him harden instantly under her palm, the thick length twitching in response.

Gen's character exploded on screen, lives lost in a spray of pixels. He cursed under his breath, pausing again and batting her hand away with more force this time. "Babe, seriously? I'm trying to focus here. You're killing my run." But his cock strained against the fabric, betraying his words, the tip already dampening a spot.

She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, nipping at the lobe. "You weren't focused anyway. Your dick's harder than that controller. Come on, Gen—I need you inside me. Please." Her voice dripped with desperation, her thighs pressing together to ease the throb in her core.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, frustration etching lines on his face. The game could wait; the heat in her eyes was a battle he was losing. "Fine. You want it so bad? I'll give you what you want." Annoyance colored his words, but so did hunger. He shoved the chair back slightly, pulling her onto his lap in one fluid motion. She straddled him eagerly, her skirt hiking up as his hands gripped her thighs.

Gen wasted no time. His fingers bunched her skirt to her waist, exposing the lacy edge of her panties. He hooked them aside roughly, the fabric scraping against her slick folds. With his other hand, he tugged his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock—thick, veined, the head flushed and leaking pre-cum that glistened in the low light. He positioned her above him, the tip nudging her entrance, her arousal already coating him.

She gasped as he guided her down, inch by inch, her pussy stretching around his girth. Her walls fluttering to accommodate him until he was seated fully, balls pressed against her ass. She moaned, the fullness making her head spin, thinking finally, this was it—he'd fuck her senseless.

But as she rolled her hips, grinding down to chase friction, Gen's hands clamped on her hips like iron shackles, halting her cold. "Stop," he said, voice low and commanding. "You interrupted me twice now. For that, you'll sit still on my cock until I'm done with this damn game. No moving. Or you'll stay like this all night, clenching around me while I ignore you."

Her eyes widened, a whine escaping her lips. "Gen, that's not fair—I need—"

He lifted one hand and delivered a sharp spank to her ass cheek, the crack echoing in the room. The sting made her jolt, her pussy tightening involuntarily around him, drawing a hiss from his lips. "Stay. Or I'll pull out right now, leave you dripping and desperate to finger yourself while I finish my level. Your choice."

Defeated, arousal pooling hotter in her belly, she nods, settling against his chest. The scent of his soap and faint sweat enveloped her as he snatched the controller again, unpausing the game. The sounds of battle resumed, but her world shrank to the thick cock impaling her, unmoving. Every breath he took shifted him slightly inside her, teasing her g-spot without mercy. She bit her lip, trying to obey, but her body rebelled—slick arousal seeped from her, dripping down his shaft to coat his balls, making everything slippery and hot.

Time stretched torturously. Five minutes? Ten? Her walls began to clamp down, milking him in subtle pulses as need built to a fever pitch. She buried her face in his neck, whining softly at first, then louder. "Gen... please, it aches so much. Fuck me. I can't take it." Her tongue darted out, licking a stripe up his throat, then sucking at the earlier hickey, marking him deeper. She nipped at his collarbone, hands clutching his shirt as her hips twitched, fighting the urge to rock.

Gen's focus wavered; his score drops as her heat squeezed him, her pussy making obscene wet sounds with the slightest shift. A tough enemy wave hit, and he growled, his free hand flexing on her hip. Her begging turned to desperate pleas, lips trailing kisses and sucks along his jaw, her breath ragged. "I need you. Please, Gen, I'm dripping everywhere."

Finally, with a frustrated groan that had nothing to do with the game, he hurled the controller to the floor. It skidded across the floor, the screen freezing on a defeat. "Fuck it. You win. Can't think straight with your pussy strangling my cock like that." His eyes burned with lust as he gripped her hips tighter, lifting her up slowly. His cock slid out until only the tip remained, her entrance clenching around it greedily, strings of her slick connecting them.

Then, with a primal grunt, he slammed her back down, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. she cries out, the sudden fullness punching the air from her lungs, her nails digging into his shoulders. He didn't give her time to adjust—his hands controlled her completely, bouncing her on his lap with speed. Up and down she went, his hips snapping up to meet each descent, the wet slap of their bodies drowning out the paused game. She couldn't match his pace; her thighs trembled, body jolting like a ragdoll as he pounded into her, cock dragging against every sensitive inch.

"Like that? This what you were begging for?" he rasped, one hand sliding up to fist her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. He latched on, sucking a fresh bruise while his thrusts never faltered, balls slapping her ass with each drive.

"Yes—Gen! Faster!" She moaned, her pussy fluttering wildly, the friction on her clit from his base building her toward release.

But Gen craved more control. Abruptly, he lifted her off him, her pussy clenching on emptiness with a pathetic whimper. He manhandled her effortlessly onto the bed, flipping her onto her hands and knees. Her ass presented to him, skirt still bunched, panties askew. Kneeling behind, he gripped her hips and thrust back in, the new angle allowing him to sink deeper, his chest pressing flush to her back as he draped over her.

The position was dominant, possessive—his weight pinning her as he rutted into her like a man possessed. His hands smacked her ass, sharp stings that made her skin redden and her pussy tighten. "This what you wanted? Interrupting my game to get fucked?" Each word was punctuated by a thrust, his cock fucking her relentlessly, hitting her cervix with controlled force.

Her arms buckled, face pressing into the sheets as pleasure coiled tight. "Yes—fuck, it's perfect! Don't stop!" She pushed back, but he held her steady, controlling the rhythm.

His hands roamed, sliding under her shirt to shove her bra up. Fingers found her breasts, cupping the soft mounds and pinching her nipples hard, twisting until she keened. He rolled them between thumb and forefinger, tugging in time with his hips, the sensations overwhelming. Sweat slicked their skin, the room heavy with the musk of sex.

He sped up, thrusts turning erratic, balls drawing tight. "Gonna cum—squeeze me, baby. Take it all." Her walls obeyed, clamping down as her orgasm crashed over her. She shattered with a scream, pussy spasming, slick gushing around him. Gen buried deep, groaning as he erupted, hot ropes of cum flooding her, painting her insides white. He pumped through it, milking every drop until they both collapsed, panting.

She starts to pull away, her body limp and sated, cum trickling down her thighs. But Gen's arm banded around her waist, holding her in place. "Not so fast. We're not done. You dragged me from my game—now you take the full punishment." His voice was husky, cock still semi-hard inside her.

With a swift flip, he rolled her onto her back, missionary, hooking her legs over his shoulders. The position folded her flexibly, her pussy exposed and leaking their mixed release. He slid back in easily, the creaminess lubing the way as he bottomed out, pushing their cum deeper. "Gonna fuck this back inside you. Every drop."

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a devouring kiss, tongue thrusting deep, mimicking his hips. He bent her legs further, knees nearly to her chest, the stretch allowing him to grind impossibly deep. she moaned into his mouth, hands tangling in his hair, the angle hitting her g-spot with every stroke.

Breaking the kiss briefly, he dipped a hand between them, fingers finding her swollen clit. He rubbed firm, insistent circles, the pressure building fast on her oversensitive nerves. "Cum again. With me. Soak my cock." His thrusts grew punishing, skin slapping, the bed creaking under them.

It was too much—the depth, the circles on her clit, the fullness of his cum-stuffed cock. She cries out as her climax hit, pussy squirting in powerful jets that soaked his abs and sheets. Gen followed, slamming home as he came again, more cum spilling into her overflowing depths.

They rode the waves together, bodies locked, until exhaustion claimed them. Gen eased her legs down gently, collapsing beside her. He pulled her close, kissing her temple. "Satisfied now? Or you planning round three?"

She laughed weakly, tracing the hickeys on his neck. "Maybe. If you pause the game next time."

Maybe it had been out of courtesy?

Maybe he gave you the number of a receptionist or a secretary who worked on the base. If you texted or called, they'd likely level the importance, and if it wasn't that important, Hoshina may never know.

You'd been too scared to bring up the situation to your brother, both the harassment and his Vice-Captain possibly having given you his number.

"Who are you texting?" Aoi's voice startled you, and you hurried to turn your screen off, shoving your phone into your pocket.

You met their gaze, no doubt looking more suspicious than before. Aoi raised an eyebrow, "I don't care if you're on your phone, we're pretty dead right now."

"Right. Yeah." You rubbed the back of your neck, fighting the urge to pull your phone back out— it wasn't like you had been planning to actually text him.

Aoi looked more interested, curiosity clear in their eyes, "So— who were you texting? A boyfriend? A girlfriend?"

"I wasn't texting anyone, I," You huffed, annoyed by the level of frustration you felt for a situation you created in your head, and you moved to grab a rag, wiping down the already spotless counter, "I was just thinking."

"Okay," Aoi stepped closer, arms crossed, "Thinking about what? You looked pretty pensive."

You glanced at them, weighing the idea of telling them what was on your mind. Aoi was a good worker, and while you two weren't quite outside-of-work friends yet, you could foresee that happening in the future. They were calm yet fun, though a bit too nosy. So far they seemed good at keeping their mouth shut. The bigger issue was— would they even believe you? Who would believe that Vice-Captain Hoshina of the third division just gave you his number?

Still.

Your phone felt like it weighed a ton in your pocket.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" They perked up, and you turned, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest, "I doubt you'll fully believe me but…"

"I'm all ears!"

"The other night, when I was working a late solo shift, there were some recruits from the third division base. One started asking for my number and just wouldn't back off. I was freaking out 'cause I wasn't sure what to do."

"Did you text your brother?"

That option hadn't even crossed your mind, and in hindsight, it made you feel a bit dumb, "No, I," You felt like a fangirl trying to recount the story in a believable way, "Vice-Captain Hoshina was here, and he ended up stepping in. He freaked the recruits out, and they turned tail and left."

Aoi looked nearly starstruck, "Holy shit— you met Vice-Captain Hoshina?"

You nodded, unsure if you should continue but— "He, uh, he gave me his phone number? Or at least I think he did."

"You- he- what? He gave you his number? Wait- what do you mean you think?"

Feeling a bit uncomfortable, you rubbed your arms, avoiding eye contact with a shrug, "He said if there are any other recruits who give me problems to text him."

They looked as if they were nearly swooning on the spot, "Oh my— that's so hot."

"Aoi!" You smacked their arm lightly, "What if he gave me a fake number? Or like… some random recruit's number?"

"Why would he do that?" Aoi was chuckling some, trying to stop your flailing hands, "He straight up told you why he was giving you his number, plus it'd be super easy to catch that lie."

"Yeah, but like," You were too embarrassed to confess that you'd been thinking about texting him a thank you text for the other night, and offer a free coffee as well.

"Look— if you think it's a fake number, don't text it. But I don't think it's fake," Aoi smiled, patting your shoulder, "I may not know him, but I doubt anyone that high up would be an asshole. Worst case scenario, show your brother and see if he can confirm if it's fake or not."

"I'm not involving him in this! That's embarrassing!"

Aoi shrugged, "Then weigh your other options. I'm off now, enjoy your late-ass shift!"

"Thanks Aoi," You rolled your eyes as they went back to grab their stuff and clock out, waving a quick goodbye as they headed out of the cafe.

The cafe was nearly empty now, only two college students seated at a table, poring over notes and their laptops. Despite the quiet music playing it was rather quiet. You had roughly two hours before the overnight barista came in. With little to do, you tried to pick up any and all tiny tasks to avoid thinking about your phone or Hoshina.

The first hour dragged on slowly, and you swear you'd never seen the cafe cleaner or more restocked. You'd done every little task you could think of, and you were tempted to just rewash the dishes again.

The door opened, the little bells jingling as two guys wandered in, one rubbing his face, the other yawning as they entered. They walked up to the counter, were quick to order, and you watched as they made their way to one of the tables near the window. You prepared their drinks, and despite it not being what you normally did, you walked their drinks over to them.

They thanked you, one of them catching your attention before you turned to leave.

"Hey— is this cafe really open all day?"

You nodded, "Yup. We're open twenty-four hours. Being as close to the base as we are, we get defense force members in here at like two in the morning."

The other one was on his phone, nodding along as you spoke, "Told you, dude."

With a quick smile, you headed back to your spot behind the counter. You didn't always mind talking to the customers, but for some reason you felt on edge with those two. You could only hope it was a random spike of anxiety, leftover from the other night.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and you found yourself staring off into space, mind wandering back to your phone. The bell rang once more, and your thoughts were broken up. Two more guys walked in, far louder than the others. They seemed to know the other guys, making a beeline for the window table.

The quiet chatter between the four quickly became full-volume conversations that began bordering on yelling. The college students looked annoyed, casting quick glares at the group of four.

Why had your anxiety been right?

With a huff, you plastered a smile on your face, making your way to the newly formed group of four, "Good evening, I—"

Before you could finish your script of asking them to quiet down, one of the newer two looked at you, "Do you serve anything stronger than coffee? Whiskery or something like that?"

"Uh, no. We only serve coffee and tea," His nose wrinkled up, an almost sneer-like expression on his face.

"You should get some good shit here, coffee's not always strong enough. Especially after raise and shit. I mean c'mon, you all stay open for twenty-four hours for us, and you can't even serve the good stuff?"

"I'll pass the suggestion up the ladder," Your voice lost the soft edge you fought to keep, words snarkier, "I also have to ask you four to keep it down, this is a cafe, not a bar. If you're unable to keep it down, I'll have to ask you all to leave."

The main guy started laughing, rolling his eyes, "Cute. We're paying customers, you can't ask us to leave," The others chuckling alongside.

Stay professional. "I can if I have to. We have standards, and one of those is we ask all patrons to use inside voices when they're, you know, inside."

The other new guy leaned across the table, "What are you planning on doing about it? Not like you can throw us out of here yourself."

You bristled at his comment, picking up on the underlying threat. Assuming they were all recruits from the third division, even just one would outclass you with strength. But four of them? What were you supposed to do?

"Here, if any other recruits give you an issue, you can message me."

You could text him.

The thought had your spine straightening, and you walked back behind the counter without a word. The four laughed, as if you were retreating from the battle. Behind the counter, you took your phone out— the contact still open from earlier— your finger hovering over the message icon.

Was this what he meant? Was it weird? What would you even say?

You heard the sound of glass shattering and a few startled yelps, and when you looked up, one of the cafe's mugs was shattered on the ground near their table. The four looked sheepish for a few seconds before they began laughing again.

"Hey! Come clean this up!"

You'd rather face a small level of embarrassment from texting who you assumed would be Hoshina before you continued to deal with these four.

Breath caught in your chest, you typed quickly, trying to give no room for hesitation.

Hey, not sure if you remember me but I'm the barista from The Hideout. You said to message you if any recruits gave me trouble, and I have a few in here being nasty. Could you help?

You sent it before you could stop yourself, slamming your phone onto the counter face down.

"Hey— broken glass is dangerous! Come clean this up!"

God, what was the hiring process at the base?

You moved, grabbing the broom and the dust pan from the back, and made your way over. You swept the mug shards in silence, ignoring their sharp laughter and loud conversation as they did nothing to move or apologize.

Once the sharps were cleaned and the floor spotless, you made your way back, dumping the shards into a separate bag to toss later. You watched as the two college students packed in a hurry, their concentration clearly broken as they scurried off into the night. The group of four seemed to take that as permission to become louder, as if they had been holding back earlier.

Against your better judgment, you checked your phone. No new messages, but your text had been left on read. Great, you felt dumber as the seconds ticked by and the group got louder and louder. You knew you were in the right to kick them out but they made you feel far too tense and uncomfortable.

Another bell chimed, and for a moment, your nerves felt frayed enough to snap. Not another—

"Oh shit."

"Vice-Captain!"

"Two of the men stood up, chairs nearly knocked over in their hurry, whereas the first two remained seated, looking almost confused. So only two of them were in the defense force, not all of them.

"You know," Hoshina's voice was calm as he spoke, arms crossed as he looked at the two members with a bored expression, "How you act in public reflects on our entire base, right?"

"Uh, yes?"

He raised an eyebrow, and the guy stumbled over his words to correct himself, "Yessir!"

Hoshina hummed, tilting his head slightly, "So tell me why you decided to reflect our entire base by being rude to this worker."

The two looked at each other, and their friends looked more and more uncomfortable from where they were seated. You watched from behind the counter, unsure of what you were supposed to do— if anything.

"I— we're sorry, sir. We were just, uh," The taller of the two glanced back at their seated friends, panic clear on his face.

"Just what?" Hoshina stepped forward, and the two stepped back, bumping into their chairs as they did so, "I'd like to think the defense members know not to cause scenes like this in public, especially for no reason."

"We're sorry, sir."

"It won't happen again."

Hoshina hummed, "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

They turned around to look at you, surprise on their faces as if they'd forgotten where they were. You swallowed— honestly you were fine without an apology, you just wanted them to leave. Your gaze flickered to Hoshina, who was now watching you. His posture looked less tense, and the look on his face was almost softer.

"We're sorry about our behavior."

"And I apologize for breaking the mug."

The pair bowed, and Hoshina looked at them almost incredulously, "You broke a mug too?"

They stood up, clearly ready to stammer another apology, but he cut them off, holding his hand up with a sigh, "If you all are done, I'd think it's best you leave. Your friends as well, but don't think that this topic is being dropped. I'm sure your squad leaders will be very interested in hearing about this behavior."

You could see the tension as they cleared their stuff, awkwardly dropping off the still intact cups before leaving, metaphorical tails between their legs. Hoshina stood at the door, watching them leave, and after a beat, he turned, making strides and walking over to you.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh, yes. Yeah, I'm good."

He smiled, all tension bleeding out as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "That's good! I was worried you weren't ever going to text me!"

"I-I didn't think you'd actually show up," Part of you felt like admitting that was saying something about him, but what else were you supposed to say?

He leveled you with a look, eyes open fully as he processed your statement, "I did tell you to message me if anyone from the base was giving you trouble," He frowned after that, huffing lightly, "I was hoping you'd text me in general, though."

Today, he was reclining on the couch in his quarters, shirtless, watching your exasperated expression as he ran his fingers through his hair, flipping it back off his forehead, the roll of biceps beneath skin clearly visible. 

"Enjoying the view?"

"You're a walking cliché right now."

"And you like it."

Damn it all, but he was right.

Not that you'd surrender so easily.

Arms folded, your gaze dropped to his belt buckle.

"Fine. Then give me something else to appreciate."

His grin widened, a certain wilful pride that tugged at something tender inside you, even as arousal warred with sentiment.

"Oho. So you're after the bayonet, huh?"

"Please don't call it that."

He was laughing, and you took in the rare moment of unguarded joy as he undid the fastening with a completely unnecessary flourish and tugged his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

"Well?"

It was just as much a challenge as it was an invitation.

In spite of his brash confidence, you were aware of exactly how he sought your approval, every word of appreciation and affirmation, always ready to drink from the fountain of your praise.

Recalling this gave you an inkling of how you intended to approach him tonight.

Lowering your voice to a purr, you sank to your knees before him, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened momentarily. He'd obviously been expecting you climb onto his lap.

"Already so hard, Captain?"

This was new to him too. You'd never referred to him by his title during intimacy.

Judging by the slight flush at the tips of his ears, he seemed to like it.

"Oi, are you sure you - "

"Yes."

Meeting his gaze, holding it, you palmed the heavy, silky weight of him in your palm, already curving past the constraints of half-mast.

Leaning forward, you teased him with a soft, experimental lick, watching the flex of his hip as he jerked slightly.

"Fuck. Wait, you're - "

He was already slightly breathless, one hand hovering half-consciously near you.

"Gen."

Your breath washed over hardened flesh, and the set of his jaw grew slack.

"What?"

"Let me make you feel good, please."

"What's gotten into you all of a - ah."

His head fell back against the sofa as your lips closed over the head, slick and hot, earthy on your tongue.

You worked over him, bobbing langorously, before releasing with a soft, wet noise.

"You're always so big. Love how heavy you are."

He uttered a soft grunt of shock as you let the length of him drop against your face, nuzzling against him, allowing the musky scent to transport you.

Within a few seconds, the reigns had slipped from him, and judging from his chagrin and arousal, he wasn't displeased.

"Hold on - you're - "

"Is that an order, Captain? You want me to stop?"

Allowing your hand to drift downwards, you cupped him, rolling the sac in your palm.

Gen hissed, mouthing silent curses, before glaring down at you.

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't stop."

Squeezing him lightly earned a tight groan.

Heat was growing between your own legs as you watched him, lowering your lips until they were just an inch above the taut, slick skin of his cock.

"You don't sound convincing, sir."

"Fuck, please, just - put your mouth on me - I - "

Without warning, you engulfed him again, and this time, he yelped, hips bucking right off the sofa.

How good he felt, so pliant beneath you, struggling under the heel of your whim.

Your palms spread flat against his abdomen, taking in the sheer strength of him, rippling like a landslide under your touch.

Here he was, the strongest, a soldier through and through, moaning, writhing, a litany of filthy praise on his tongue.

The teasing had driven him close to the edge, but you released him suddenly, earning a choked cry, his grip tightening in your hair.

"Why did you - "

"But you look so good like this, sir."

"Huh?"

Sweat was now glistening on his brow and chest, the strain in his voice audible.

"Want to see you like this a little longer."

"But I - "

He bit his lip hard, and your smile grew wicked.

"Would the Captain like to give me another order?"

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Suck me."

The words were a throaty growl, something desperate hidden within.

He was shifting underneath you, lifting himself into your grasp.

How needy.

You laved him with your tongue, pausing again, voice breathy with want.

"You're so hard, Gen. You taste so good. Want your cock in me all night."

He was now almost incoherent, raspy panting loud in the intimate hush of the room.

"I - oh, fuck, I need you, please. I'll give you my cock, I'll fuck you however you want, just please - "

"However I want?"

You were stroking him again, slow and measured.

"Put that pretty mouth on - ahh shit. Fuck, I need - need you so bad - "

He was all but begging you now, hitched breathing, face scarlet with humiliation and desire, erection leaking between your fingers.

Taking mercy on him, you slid him right back in, his groans louder, his demands more explicit.

You took him as far as he would go, sliding back down the slick length, wrist working as you released him to take a shuddering breath.

"Gen, come for me."

"Ah, yeah, I'm - don't stop, I'm - "

You could tell he was already at the brink.

"Come in my mouth, want you all over my tongue."

Picking up the pace of your fist around him, you held his gaze, mouth open, ready to receive everything he gave.

This proved too much for him, and his entire body stiffened, tendons standing out in his neck as his back arched.

A loud, desperate roar escaped him, cut off midway as he came, hot and viscous, the excess of him escaping down your chin.

You slid a finger beneath your lip, catching the stray drop, tasting more thoroughly.

He was now slumped boneless over the sofa, arms spreadeagled, the rise and fall of his chest ragged and uneven.

Placing your hands on his thighs, you clambered up to perch on him.

Gen raised his head slowly, eyes flashing and accusatory even as he basked in a considerable afterglow.

"You're gonna pay for that."

Kento Nanami

He had a slight spring in his step today, one that was barely perceptible to those who didn't know him well.

The brown paper bag tucked under one arm signaled that he'd had time to stop by the bakery.

Turning away from your laptop, you smiled as he removed his shoes in the genkan, stepping with slow deliberation into his house slippers.

"Canceled mission?"

"Not canceled. They just handed it over to someone closer to the site."

Kento was observing the 'ritual of return', as you'd teasingly named it.

First, the tinted glasses came off, polished briefly and stored in their case. Off came the coat, the tie loosened and removed, sleeves rolled up as he prepared to wash his hands at the kitchen sink.

Something about the smooth shift of powerful shoulders under the dark blue screen of formal wear always caught your eye.

Today, he seemed less tired than usual.

You considered him as he dried off his hands, reaching up to run fingers through the carefully set hair, loosening strands to frame the strong lines of his face.

Today, you'd have your way with him.

There was no doubt about it.

Before he had a chance to enter the bedroom to prepare for his evening bath, you slipped in yourself, hurriedly rummaging through the drawers for your secret weapon.

By the time he'd arrived, you had already prepared an ambush. Kento raised an eyebrow at the sight of you, perched on the bed, still in your robe.

"Did you want to use the bathroom first?"

"Hmm. Not exactly."

"Then - "

You let the robe slip to the side, raising one leg to fold over the other.

There it was, that subtle shift in his expression, from gentle propriety to charged tension, anticipation lacing the slow drop of his gaze.

These were the stockings you knew he liked an awful lot, sheer, black, the lace edges gripping the flesh of your thigh where they ended halfway up.

He glanced down, slowly laying aside the towel he still held, a smile growing on his lips.

"You're misbehaving today, I see."

"I wouldn't call it that. Come here."

Kento looked a little taken aback by how pro-active you were being. Normally, you allowed him to take the lead in bedroom matters, always secure in the knowledge that he would satisfy you, but tonight, you wanted to shake that status quo, to give him something to remember.

He was already unbuttoning his shirt, ready to set it aside neatly, as he always did, but this time you foiled him by pushing his hands away, unfastening and removing his pants instead.

His breathing hitched, ever so slightly, as you brushed against his growing erection.

You leaned back on your elbows and he protested in consternation.

"Hold on, let me get the condom on - "

"You won't be needing it for this."

While he was regaining his bearings, you shuffled forward, reached between your bodies and grasped him, watching his eyes fly open.

"What are you - "

As answer, you brought your thighs together, pushing his cock between them. The rapidly hardening tip slid out the other side between soft skin, and he uttered a small sound of helpless surprise.

Up went your legs, ankles crossed, propped against his shoulder. The angle tightened the vice you had on him.

Kento was now looking down at you, posture tense and uncertain. This didn't disguise the curiosity and spark of desire you'd inspired, a slow flush stealing across the firm bridge of his nose.

He looked almost ... bashful, slightly at a loss.

The fact that he allowed you to see this particular facet of his nature did not escape you.

A privilege, indeed.

"You can move."

He remained still for a moment, as if holding some internal debate.

Then, he did as he was bid, shifting back, pushing himself forward, once, twice, experimental and slow.

Kento was quite broad, the heft and width of him always making prior preparation necessary.

You hadn't expected him to feel like this, not inside you, but so close, every ridge and heated twitch making itself known to your flesh, that intoxicating duality of steel encased in velvet, passing through the clench of your thighs.

Just from this, his breathing had grown audibly shallow, Adam's apple bobbing as those large, warm hands slid around to grip you where the stockings ended.

The gentility of his touch was at odds with the act itself, eroticism bordering on debauchery, the pearly translucence sliding from his tip beginning to coat each measured thrust.

You'd never really listened to the sounds your bodies made when joining before, but this time, the slick press of him was unmistakable, causing you to arch back against the bed, eyelids lowering in sultry invitation.

"Kento ... feels so good. Harder, please."

He was growing more confident, a quick study, as always.

The earlier hesitance had given way to something more instinctual, primal, even.

His fingers hooked in the tops of your stockings for leverage, leaving you gasping as he dragged your body with intent against his, driving with greater impact.

His strength was not always so evident in the bedroom, leaving space for gentler, more passionate pursuits, but now he let you have it.

You clutched at the sheets beneath you, whispering urgent appeals, soft and electric, the sweet promise of the night unfurling around you both.

"Yes, please, use me like that. Want you ... so much. You're always so warm, I - ah. Yes, yes, keep going. Fuck me, fuck me like that - "

He was unraveling as he watched you come apart beneath him, blonde strands falling across his flushed face, eyes misted over with pleasure, sweat building on his skin, his grip on your thighs tightening enough to leave bruises.

The pace he'd set was now punishing, driven by your pleas and praise, the sheets rumpled, your breasts swaying with every firm slap of his body against yours.

One final push, and you cried out as he came, a hoarse, guttural groan of ecstasy escaping him.

There was a loud rip as your stockings finally gave way under his powerful grip, heat spurting out onto your abdomen.

Panting, you lay sprawled beneath him, both legs slowly swinging down from their position on his shoulders, almost disbeliving that you'd managed to push him to this.

Kento's head was thrown back, throat extended, chest rising and falling rapidly as he leaned his weight against the bed.

When he finally spoke, breathless and uncharacteristically shaky, it wasn't to reprimand you for your boldness.

That was not his way.

"Let me ... help you get ... cleaned up."

Dutiful, devoted, never wavering.

You nodded wordlessly, and his palm passed over your ankle, squeezing momentarily before he made his way to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth to remove the traces he'd left on you, but the look he wore, the way he gripped and savoured the softness of you, spoke of further, unleashed desires.

This was Kento's way, not a rebuke, but a reward, and the night was far from over.

Soshiro Hoshina

There was little that escaped Soshiro's observant eye.

He always knew, for example, which of his officers had slacked off during training.

Perhaps this was why he invariably caught you staring.

Granted, you had never been subtle about it. Soshiro was incredible to watch in motion when he trained, darting across the floor, blades swinging like a contained whirlwind, every muscle outlined in glorious definition beneath the black compression shirts he favoured.

Sometimes, like present, he'd emerge from the shower in a fragrant cloud of steam, towel slung criminally low on his waist, strolling past you on his way to the fridge.

How could you not look?

An unreasonable demand.

And now he was -

Starkly outlined by the light emitting from within the fridge, he took his time bending over, the taut outline of his backside clearly visible through the towel.

One of his sweetened coffee-milk drinks was selected with a completely unnecessary show of attention.

What a tease.

Swinging the fridge door shut, he straightened, taking a swig from the bottle. A small drop of the rich brown liquid escaped the rim, trailing lovingly down his chest.

He swiped it off and licked his finger, catching your eye.

"Oh, did I distract you, sweetheart?"

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That."

He had the grace to grin knowingly.

"Can't a man get a drink in his own house?"

"He could, if he were fully clothed."

"Now, don't be like that."

He approached, waving the coffee-milk beneath your nose.

"I'll share, if you ask nicely."

Sighing, you wrenched your eyes away from his enviable abs, fingers flexing around the pen you held.

"Maybe a little. I've got one more requisition to fill out."

He offered you the bottle obligingly.

As he leaned one elbow on the counter beside you, the towel around his waist somehow gave up its precarious perch and slid to the floor.

You nearly choked on the sip you'd taken as Soshiro glanced down at himself with a distinctly cheerful lack of regret.

"Oh no. Now I'm naked in front of my sweet gal. What'll she think of me?"

"You - "

Rising slowly with narrowed eyes, you wiped off your mouth and propped a hand on your hip.

"All right. I'll play your game, Soshiro."

This had evidently been what he was after, because his smile was now anything but innocent, the gleam of his still-damp hair as tantalizing as the expanse of bare skin he had graced you with.

"Oh? And how're ya gonna do that?"

In reply, you stepped past him, pausing in the doorway to the bedroom.

Shadows played over the bunch and slide of muscle in his thighs as he pushed off the counter and sauntered towards you.

Determined not to let his distractions progress further, you turned away, aware of the soft pad of his footsteps across the floor.

As carelessly as he had, you pulled off your own shirt and pajama shorts, dropping them to one side.

He raised an eyebrow as he entered the room.

"Puttin' on a show for me already?"

You glanced coyly over one shoulder at him.

"Just returning the favour."

The evident switch in your mood had thrown him slightly, and you could see it.

Settling on the bed, you crooked a finger.

"Here."

Graciously playing along for now, he climbed up, braced on hands and knees, and crawled towards you, those powerful shoulders rolling beneath scarred skin, a predator at play.

Maintaining an upper hand with this man was near impossible, but you'd be damned if you didn't try your best.

Placing one hand on his chest, you exerted gentle pressure, and he complied, violet eyes carving the sight of you into some part of his mind as he lay back.

Silky dark hair fanned out in a halo around his head, and you allowed your gaze to drag across his body, every sculpted dip and ridge, the delicious trail of hair that meandered down to the tuft between his spread legs, the casual bounce of his half-hard cock as he shifted to get more comfortable.

For all of his teasing, your Soshiro really was a work of art, forged and tempered by battle and a lifetime of hard training.

In that moment, an idea solidified.

Tapping his hip with one hand, you gestured to him to move more towards the right.

He cocked his head quizzically, but followed your direction, bemused.

He was now situated in the correct position for what you intended.

Fingers trailing across his chest, you followed their passage with light presses of your lips, listening to his soft exhalation.

He reached up and tucked your hair behind one ear, the sharp snaggle tooth projecting as he smiled down at you.

Unable to help yourself, you kissed the corner of his mouth, then, slower, the softness of his cheek, his chin, down the length of his throat, across the strong, supple curve of his pectorals.

Soshiro's breathing had sped up a little, warm anticipation in his eyes as he watched you take a nipple into your mouth, biting his lip as you applied gentle suction, tracing its contour with your tongue.

You knew he was more sensitive here, lapping and gently sinking your teeth into the yield of him as he let out a hiss, one warm, calloused hand sliding along your waist.

You gave both sides equal attention, alternating until they were rosy, perked, begging for further attention. His erection was now rock hard against your thigh, and your lips curved against his skin as he moved, as if to create more friction.

Sitting up, you paused in your worship, arching your back, rocking against him.

He was now panting slightly, his grip on your hip tightening, eyes traveling over you with undisguised hunger.

You took his hand, watching his eyes widen slightly as you extended his middle and forefinger, taking them into your mouth before your whisper sounded, soft against his palm.

"Feel how wet you make me."

Soshiro was spellbound as you allowed his fingers, dampened with your saliva, to trace a glistening path down, between your breasts, across your stomach, down, down, to the growing heat between your thighs.

You uttered a soft cry as you felt the firm press of his hand against you, the breach of your entrance and the slow circle of the sensitised bud outside.

"Fuck."

Soshiro seldom cursed, and the raw edge to his arousal never failed to set your nerves ablaze.

In spite of the growing haze of desire in your own mind, you placed a finger over his lips, directing his attention  once more.

"Watch."

He raised himself on his elbows, the pieces of the puzzle slotting into place as you moved your torso to the side, your abdomen lowering against his.

Behind you, directly in his line of sight, was the mirror across the top of the dresser. You'd shifted your position to the right edge of the bed, where he could now claim a clear view of the both of you.

There was a fierce intensity to how he focused on that reflection as you raised yourself slightly, your folds clearly visible to him, even in the dimmer lighting of the bedroom.

In your current position over him, your mouth was beside his ear, hands braced on his shoulders. He groaned softly as you slid against his cock, all wet heat and petal-soft promise.

"Soshiro."

He nodded, strain visible in the taut lines of his neck.

"Watch how you stretch me."

His mouth fell open, a rare display of complete surrender to pleasure as you sank down onto him, inch by inch, clutching at him like a lifeline.

All the while, his eyes never left the mirror, exactly as you'd instructed, watching himself push past your labia, deeper and deeper into you.

Keeping the angle, breathing hard, you began a rocking motion with your hips, legs spread wide on either side of him, ensuring that his view was never obscured.

Over and over, you slicked him with the unspoken praise of your own arousal, letting him see exactly what he did to you.

His arms had now closed around your waist with an almost convulsive grasp, biceps pressing into your sides as he whispered endless encouragement to you, to keep going, keep riding, keep taking his cock just like that -

Before long, you'd both lost complete track of whichever game he'd decided on before this had all started, lost in a maze of passion, delineated only by the slap of his flesh against yours, the endless, hard press of him inside you, the damp, open heat of his mouth against your shoulder as he took control, filling the bedroom with broken gasps and cries.

When the surge of heat inside you, finally tipping you into the molten embrace of a pulsing, heavy climax, shook you both from head to toe, you collapsed against him, nails digging into his back.

The tremors subsiding, you raised yourself off him, breathless laughter fanning out against his lips.

"Do I win this round?"

His grin was as charming as ever, boyish and lop-sided from all of your exertions.

"Only if you let me settle the score."

Shota Aizawa

As chronically sleep-deprived as he appears, there's a dichotomy to Shota that becomes more evident over time.

He is always alert, every sense finely attuned to his surroundings, even when he's asleep.

Since you've started spending time at his place, he's also made other concessions, starting with the habit of actually sleeping in his bed at night, as opposed to the familiar yellow sleeping bag.

The moment you join him, he rolls over, arm draping across your form, heavy and warm. It's testament to how far this unspoken trust extends, for a man who so studiously avoided physical contact with others.

Tonight, however, you can tell that he's awake, mulling over something.

He's lying on his back, one arm draped across his forehead, the blankets pushed down.

"Shota?"

"Hmm."

It's a partial answer, giving away none of his thoughts, but still indicating that he's present, and listening.

You turned over to find him watching you, intent and fully aware. 

"Can't sleep?"

"I will. Eventually."

Reaching for him, you traced along his bare chest, fingers catching slightly on the dense tangle of dark hair, the solid planes of him beneath.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

The blunt honesty of his answer was typical, and you shifted, propping up your head with an elbow.

"Why?"

"Just thinking."

Electing to remain silent, you waited. He always required a little more time to gather and articulate his thoughts.

Shota never said anything he didn't mean, especially not to you.

His eyes were on you again.

"Are you happy?"

"You mean ... with us? Yes, of course I am."

"You sure?"

His meaning wasn't lost on you. Shota had never seen himself indulging in softer emotions, his life Spartan, making room only for that which he was familiar with.

You were an anomaly, a bright splash of uncertainty and vulnerability he was still grappling with.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

Somehow, you knew that a simple answer was not enough. He didn't expect anything more, though, and that was precisely why you would act.

Reaching over, you ran a hand down his cheek, the rough edge of stubble a contrast to the softer overgrowth along his jaw.

He responded to you immediately, an unspoken desire for something, anything you could give him.

Instead of allowing him to cover your body with his, you pushed back against his shoulder, your leg drifting sideways across his body.

Hooking your ankle against his knee, you lifted yourself on one elbow, sliding over him.

The blanket formed a partial cocoon around you both as you straddled him, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

For the most part, Shota let you initiate, but the quiet, passionate urgency of his response never failed to set you alight.

His fingers were already threading through your hair, pulling you closer.

You let him taste you, thorough and deliberate, before leaning back, watching him chase after you with slow delight.

Beneath you, he was already hard, and you slid a hand past the waistband of his underwear, a moan escaping the tight set of his lips as you found the hot weight of him beneath the wiry thatch of dark hair.

You could tell that he was trying his best not to buck wantonly into your palm.

Ever a master of restraint, was Shota.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you decided on something you'd never tried with him before.

Familiarity be damned, he'd asked you if you were happy, and you fully intended to show him just how much.

Relinquishing your grasp on him, your reached up, tugging off the shift you wore to bed, now completely nude from the waist up.

The faint furrow of confusion between his brows was especially amusing to you as you lowered yourself between his thighs.

He only figured out what you intended moments after you lifted both breasts, settling them on either side of his cock.

"What - "

For once, Shota was at a loss, stiff with disbelief.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You gave one playful upward stroke, and the groan that exploded from him was almost unrecognizable.

He was watching all right, that hooded, drowsy gaze now drinking in the sight of you and what you were doing to him.

Within the snug, velvety channel, he was long, firm and pulsing, the slight upward cant of his hips meeting the lowering of your breasts each time.

You hadn't been expecting the sensations that he'd give to you, the prickle of his hair catching on your nipples, dewy pearls of pre-cum sliding down his length with every lift and drop.

Soon, the dampness had spread across your skin, gleaming with a soft, obscene sheen in the dim light.

Adding fuel to fire, you gently licked the tip each time it raised, humming in satisfaction at the taste of him, earning short, desperate growls, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the bedspread.

How you loved seeing him like this, entirely focused, lost in the pleasure you gave so freely, taking and taking until he was completely spent.

Opening wider, you held him in your mouth on the next thrust, engulfing, tracing the small opening at the tip with your tongue.

He jerked spasmodically, a harsh, hoarse protest on his lips.

"If you ... if you keep ... ah, fuck, if you - "

Watching this man come undone would never grow tiresome.

Abandoning your earlier exploits, you focused on the building climax you could sense in the coil of muscle in his abdomen, the flex and tensing of his thighs.

He was so close.

Taking him fully into your mouth, you sucked and stroked with relish, picking up the pace as he threw back his head and lifted himself into you without restraint.

Hips snapping up one final time, he let out a long, low, guttural groan as viscous heat spurted over your breasts and tongue. It was slightly bitter, the distinctive taste of him.

Panting hard, even amidst the white hot bliss you'd brought him, Shota's hand was tracing your lower lip, wiping away the excess that had spilled down to your chest.

His touch was shockingly tender, considering what you'd both just done together.

Mote than that, it was an answer, one he'd finally grasped acceptance of.

Smiling up at him, you stretched, arms raised high above your head.

"You wonder if I'm happy when I get to feast like this?"

His laughter was low and rich, a trifle rough from disuse.

"Fine. Made your point."

When you made to get off him, his grasp on your hip halted you, the slow curve of his smile matching yours.