#kn8 reader insert

[ouiouimochi]

hi I noticed that u were pipino hehe... since it's her months already, can I req how the characters react to f!reader basically celebrating Christmas literally MONTHS early

thankyou for requesting anon! I'm guessing you meant ber months? funny thing is I've gotten started on writing something for that prompt already but you requesting it also urged me to finish lmao… it's kind of rushed? but I do hope you enjoy it!

Never too early to celebrate the holidays!

context: so here in the Philippines, we actually start preparing for Christmas(heck even celebrating it) in September or the start of the ber months. now imagine how the defense force reacts to you practicing this

pairing/s: various kn8 x reader

genre/s: scenario type, slice of life, romance if you squint well, comedy, crack

wc: 2k

warnings: some characters may be ooc, not exactly canon compliant, grammatical errors, no beta we die like cattle, character studies just went out the window in this crackfic, careful for whiplash sweeties! huge mood changes

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

It was an unusually relaxed day in the Defense Force, free from the hectic stress of kaiju threats and the like. The day was spent training as usual, but everyone can tell that the atmosphere wasn't heavy with the burden of protecting Japan. They just knew, despite their doubts, that it wasn't the calm before a storm— the worry that their respite would soon be ruined by the stupid beasts that had been haunting them since time immemorial.

There was a distinct chill in the air, signaling the start of the crisp season of autumn. The officers of the Defense Force were already used to the drop in temperature, however some were not completely immune.

You were currently surrounded by your fellow recruits, talking about the sudden cold.

“It feels quite colder than last year,” Kikoru mentions, a small shiver running down her body. She rubs her hands together to gain warmth.

“Yeah, it wasn't this bad then.” Haruichi agreed while burying his hands deep into his parka jacket.

The group continued walking through the streets of the city, their batch having been approved for a day off after training.

“Reno, how in the damned hell are you unaffected?” reno my ice ice baby girl- Iharu hounded the mint haired male as he picked at the other male’s choice of outdoor clothes, the latter responding with a raise of an eyebrow and a shrug.

“We should get warm drinks,” you piped up as everyone expressed their agreement at your suggestion.

“I know just the place.” Haruichi pulled out his phone to show the group a cafe located not too far away. Before long, everyone arrived at the establishment with the ring of the bell above the door.

“Hot chocolate would be perfect,” Kafka sighed out, everyone else thinking of what warm drink to get as their eyes scoured through the menu.

“I'll probably have my usual coffee.”

“Maybe matcha tea?”

“Hot milk tea for me.”

“Macchiato.”

“There's no eggnog?” imsosorryidkwhatchristmasdrinktoputlmao a hum followed as the whole group stared at you with varying emotions.

You had a finger to your lip in thought while scanning the menu. You had your eyebrows slightly scrunched in concentration, debating what to get. A few gazes lingered on your face for a bit too long.

Noticing the silence, you looked at your friends and tilted your head. Realization creeps on your face and you cover your mouth with one palm, bowing apologetically.

“My bad, I didn't mean for everyone to wait for my order… I'll get the same as Reno then,” you sheepishly said.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Hold on, I think I have to go get my package.”

“Again? That's like the 6th one this month, (Y/n).” Kikoru stopped walking before turning to you to raise an eyebrow while resting her hands on her waist.

You shrugged your shoulders, seeing no problem in buying stuff with your own money coughcoughnarumicanneverjkcough.

“What's wrong with it? It's not like I'm broke from buying stuff from Yamazon, no? Unlike…” you trailed off, letting your blonde friend finish for you.

She sighs in response, dropping her arms to her sides as you two resume walking.

“As much as I want to say a comeback, you're right about my moronic teacher… I swear, he always asks me for money.”

“Oh, Kikoru…” you pat her back, laughing lightheartedly, “but I do gotta wonder how he does that when his paycheck is more loaded than mine…”

Your younger friend shook her head, already done with the conversation. She waved you goodbye when you two had to separate ways.

You hummed on your way to the office where one receives any delivered goods from outside the base. You waved and smiled at the nice lady at the desk you managed to get acquainted with from your recent visits.

She pulled up a few boxes from under her desk, creating quite the stack. The lady sweat dropped when her eyes trailed from the piled parcels to you— realizing that it'd be quite troublesome for you to carry alone.

Meeting her gaze and knowing what she was thinking, you shook your head and pulled a thumbs up.

“Don't worry, I can handle this. I just have to sign here as usual right?”

She only nodded, still a little worried as you started stacking each box carefully in your arms. Her concern only raised when your head was barely peeking out from the topmost package.

“Thank you again!” and you somehow safely maneuvered yourself out the doorway without hitting anything.

You were doing pretty well despite having most of your eyesight blocked, having to rely on your other senses. You gotta be thankful that all that training paid off, but perhaps you may have overestimated your capabilities.

Although, you could've sworn nobody was in the vicinity as you felt no other presence— heard no other footsteps, rustling of clothes, or even breathing—, you still failed to react fast enough when you collided with someone at the next turn.

Your eyes widened in surprise while some of your packages flew upwards. Everything was in slow motion but you felt a faint warmth wrap around your back and waist to catch you from falling.

You focused more on the packages that were about to fall— afraid that some of the items would break— and caught them… except for one that soared a bit too far from your reach.

Thankfully, the person who you collided with managed to grab ahold of the last box. You closed your eyes and sighed in relief.

A deep playful chuckle reverberated in the air. Your eyes opened to be met with the cheeky grin of Vice Captain Hoshina. implayingfavoritesperhaps

You blinked at him before standing up straight and off his arm.

“Vice Captain Hoshina, sir! I apologize for the disrespect, but I am unable to currently salute you, sir…”

The man only laughs and waves it off with a friendly smile, a hint of one of his canines poking out.

“At ease,” he scanned you from head to toe, “quite a hazard to walk around with ‘ya vision blocked, no?” still in his hand was the package he caught for you.

“I was holding up quite well due to your training…” you stared up at him before narrowing your eyes jokingly, “But your movements had no sound at all, not even a rustle of your clothes.”

He hummed before taking half the pile of boxes in your arms.

“Where to?”

You tilted your head curiously at his gesture. Alhough it was not unusual for the vice captain to be kind, he usually didn’t show it in such a straightforward way. Nonetheless, you appreciated how he still left some for you to carry on your own.

You smiled and answered him, both of you falling in step towards your destination.

“So what're these for? Noticed you've had deliveries the past month as well.” The purple haired man queried.

You had a slight skip in your step, quite excited to open up the packages that you received. In response to his inquiry, you smiled up at him with a glint in your eyes, “Just some early gift buying for the holidays, sir.” before turning your head away to hum a tune in your head.

‘Christmas shopping in September?’

Hoshina’s eyes remain trained on your form, processing what you just said, before he shook his head and just let you be. Everyone else had learned to not to question you much no matter how… eccentric you were at times. Your eccentricity was one of your charms anyways.

“Careful with what you buy, don't want ‘ya ending up like a certain captain of the First Division…” He advised, finding the opportunity to poke fun at said person despite their current absence.

You rolled your eyes, finding it funny that this is the nth time today Captain Narumi was slandered. “I'm more responsible with my money than you all think, sir.”

Far away in the Ariake Maritime Base of the JAKDF, a certain two-toned haired male let out a sneeze while he was busy playing on his gaming console.

Hasegawa shook his head, “that's what gaming all night gets you,” the older man chided his captain as the said person only covered his ears, unwilling to listen to another lecture.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

Another yoju drops dead on the concrete ground, everyone’s comms crackling to life.

“Immeasurable amount of yoju bounding to Zone Beta, honju’s whereabouts are unknown,” the familiar voice of Operations Manager Okonogi made itself through the earpiece.

“There's just no end to this!” an officer grumbled as everyone else started bounding to the designated zone.

“Kaiju horde spotted, permission to engage?” You announced into your device while readying your gun, being the first in position. The horde had an average of only 3.6 fortitude level— however, their numbers were what made them problematic. The operations room gave you the signal, indicating that it was something you could handle with your capabilities despite only being a recruit.

You wasted not another moment, immediately pulling the trigger of your pre-aimed gun. A yoju drops as its fellow species trampled over its fallen corpse.

The ground was rumbling with the beasts’ stampede through the open road. Yet again, another shot, another corpse. They were still far from your position, so you continued to efficiently gun down kaiju after kaiju.

You get into a steady beat, unconsciously following a certain rhythm from the back of your mind. You remain locked in, completely washing out most of your surroundings— well of course you are still aware of what's going on around you, just more hyperaware than ever.

“First Division backup has arrived at Zone Beta”

You continued firing away, by now the horde was noticeably dwindling away already. A pair of red glaring lenses watched on, having the pleasure of watching your work first hand as the owner was fastest to arrive.

Captain Narumi only wanted to quickly clear the largest wave of kaiju emergence of the year by far— cursing already how his division had to do a joint operation with the Third. Color him impressed as he just observed how you could clear the horde pretty much on your own. He was mesmerized by the timing and pattern of which you fired your gun—

He narrows his eyes when he realizes something, noticing that it was like you were casually playing a rhythm game with the monsters. Well, that wasn't exactly what made him pause…

‘She isn't shooting them down in the beat of a Christmas song, is she?'

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Do any of you think that maybe—just maybee—(Y/n) is actually insane?” Iharu randomly blurted out as the usual group of recruits gathered around. You weren't present at the moment since you were called to the captain's office for something.

“You’re the madman here for being brave enough to even question it.” Kikoru stated matter-of-factly.

“We're literally surrounded by unique people, why are you only pointing fingers at her?” Reno raised an eyebrow, ready to defend you anytime.

“I mean… it's only September… and she's already making holiday preparations!” The pink-haired male tried to explain.

“...He does make quite the point.” Kafka nodded along.

“Eh, how are you all sure she's been doing so?” Reno challenged.

The eldest of the group mentioned what he noticed, “Hasn’t (Y/n) been craving and looking for Christmas season food—”

“You've no right to judge a woman's sudden urge to eat something.” Hakua interjected, the tall female always so passionate when it comes to cuisine.

“Come to think of it… Her part of the room’s been unusually cramped with some packages...” Akari’s mellow voice echoed out.

“It's not really our business to pry into how she uses her paychecks though…”

and so the group bickered back and forth— one half providing ‘evidence’ of your weird behavior, the second half making up possible reasons behind them.

“She’s been humming ‘All I want for Christmas is You‘ by Mariah Carey the past 2 weeks for fuck's sake!”

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

notes: CRYING SCREAMING HOW DO I WRITE HOSHINA TALKING I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE HIM HHHHHHH (too lazy to edit his parts, this has been in the drafts since the start of september… kinda wanna get it over and done with-)

this was hella rushed, isn't it obvious I made different parts at different days? its a mess just like me :P

[the-original-skipps]

|| Beating Them At The Punching Machine Game. || Kaiju No. 8 Reactions ||

it’s great to be back!! just caught up to the kn8 manga really missed you guys and to be writing i dont think i have a full 100% grasp on their character yet so ooc warning! you guys are gonna be seeing a lot of kn8 from me lol

: Ichikawa Reno. Narumi Gen. Hoshina Soshiro.

❥ Reno lets out a surprised yell as your fist connects with the punching ball and your score shoots up. His voice was louder than expected as a couple of passerby’s turn to look at you and him. He immediately turns shy, looking down in embarrassment. You walk over to him gigging at his adorableness. The moment you stand in front of him, he grasps your shoulders which catches you in surprise. Trying to keep his voice low, he exclaims how amazingly strong you are. Now it’s your turn to turn shy as countless praises leave his lips. Before you turn red as a tomato you take his hand in yours, pulling him towards the other games at the arcade. Reno vows he’ll train harder to become as strong as you and also to never piss you off. He shudders while you look at him in confusion.

“Let’s train right away when we get back! No? O-Okay, maybe another day.” 

❥ Narumi watches you walk up to the machine. He's already picturing your dejected face. He’ll then have to pull you into a hug while cooing sweet reassurances to you like the good boyfriend that he is. The thought has him grinning like an old man but suddenly a loud bang rings out. Which immediately snaps him out of his daydreams. Only to see your score going up at an alarming rate until it surpasses his own, becoming the newest high score. Seeing the numbers you let out a squeal of delight then turning back to look at your boyfriend whose eyes are now as wide as saucers, mouth agape. Who’s still as a statue you walk up to him. You wave a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his daze. Narumi looks at you in bewilderment as he struggles to form his words. With the same smug smile he gave you earlier during his turn you pat his back in comfort.

"T-There must be something wrong with the machine! I demand a rematch!! Hey! Don’t you dare post about this on Instagram!!"

❥ Hoshina's eyes open momentarily as he sees your score passing his and becoming the new high score. He lets out a whistle as you excitedly turn around and run up to him. He finds your excitement endearing, as he pats your head as praise. He knew you were strong but this was a whole new level of strength, a feeling of pride swells within him. With a teasing smile on his face Hoshina asks you if you've been training in secret and what kind of training you've been doing. You deny his questions, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. Even though his eyes are closed you can feel his intense gaze on you. His hand that was previously on your head lowers until it rests upon your cheek, you await in anticipation at what he’ll do next. However, the moment is quickly broken as he comments on how your strength resembles that of a gorilla's while trying to hold back his laughter.

"I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Though if you were a gorilla you’d be the cutest one! Ouch! I’m kidding hahaha!” 

⋆˙⟡taglist: @stunies @maruflix @hayatoseyepatch if anyone wants to be added pls lemme know!

[equestriagirl16]

When I’m desperately checking the ‘x reader’ tag of a new series and I finally see multiple fics uploaded-

[raeart-xo]

Silly Kafka Hibino/Reader thing ?

Summary: Kafka safely walks drunk reader home after a work get-together and makes sure they are looked after once there.

Notes: Reader insert is gender-neutral but has longer hair and some of the work loosely implies female anatomy/feminine traits.

The idea was floated in my general direction by @ceviinx in a Discord server we are in, so naturally, the fic is dedicated to her (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Link to the AO3 post above, or read the whole thing here below the break:

(STOP! Don't forget to read the tags!)

You, Kafka, and some of his work colleagues as well as colleagues of your own were all out together at a nice fancy little izakaya restaurant. Naturally, you were sitting beside Kafka. He's not anything special, but the both of you are kind of close. You aren't sure if you like like him, or if you're just fond of him. Whichever it is, everyone was drinking. You're not great at holding your drink, and your drunk self is...

“Ugh...I swear... I- uhbfh...I'm never drinking again...” Your words slur, your footing is unsteady and your legs wobble beneath you. Maybe it was one drink too many, maybe it was five. However many it was, it has resulted in you slumped over, vomit and half a drink on your shirt, shoes in your hands, braced against the body of Kafka. As gross of a state as you're in, he does his best to mind you.

“Well c'mon now, we both know that's just not true.” Kafka replies with a dry chuckle. He has one arm around your waist, the other arm holding one of yours secure around his broad shoulders. He makes an effort to hold you more steady as he guides you tentatively up some stairs. Your legs disagree with this decision, feet screaming in agony and balance completely off-kilter, but you have no choice.

“Just a little further, hold out a bit longer, ‘kay?” He reassures you, tone gentle. Your body doesn't want to, but you groan out some kind of sound of agreement as you reach the top of the stairs. Bare feet scrape against the concrete until, finally, Kafka stops in front of the door to your apartment. “Keys.” He prompts gently.

You drop your shoes on the ground, giving your pockets a good rummage as Kafka mumbles in wonderment at exactly how and when you managed to take your shoes off between here and the restaurant. Oh, there they are! You pull the keyring out of your pocket and try, embarrassingly, to insert a key into the lock. You swear you can manage it, you do this all the time, this should be easy--

“This is painful to watch.” Kafka complains, snatching up the keys with his hand and sorting through them with his finger and thumb. He selects the right key and throws the door open with ease.

Immediately, you break free of his grip to stumble into your apartment. Tripping over yourself, you crawl like an animal to your toilet. The toilet bowl calls to you, and Kafka leaves you to your own devices for a few moments as he gathers up your shoes and takes off his. He drops your keys onto the kitchen counter and joins you in the bathroom. The man squats down on the floor beside you and rubs your upper back soothingly as you spill whatever is left of your guts into the toilet.

“I'm sorry...” You whine between gasps for breath. Tears stream down your face. You sit up straighter and run the back of your hand over your mouth and the palm of the opposite hand over your eye.

Kafka raises an eyebrow at you. “Sorry? For what?” He leans closer and gathers some of your hair up, taking care to hold it behind your head. Something he realised he should have done sooner, since some of the ends of your hair are already damp with...something.

“I'm gross and drunk...” You slur out, “and-- uhb...you could be home in bed right now but-” You hunch over again and spit into the toilet, taking a few deep breaths.

When you sit back up, your hands seize the hem of your stained, baggy shirt and pull it over your head. You struggle with it, and Kafka needs to take his hand out of your hair, but eventually manage to remove the offending garment. When you do, Kafka seems to be making a very concentrated effort of keeping his eyes off of you.

“You're not gross.” He says towards the wall. “I deal with way worse at work. A little bit of puke’s not gonna count me out.” He very tentatively returns his hand to your upper back. Calloused palm rubs the smooth skin and feels comfortable. You lean over the toilet and giggle madly, your hair falling into your face before he has any time to notice through his eye contact with the wall.

“Kafka’s so cheesy.” You snort, tilting your head back and spitting your hair out of your mouth. When you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, his face is beet red from ear to ear. Despite this, his expression reads like he's trying to remain stoic. He's doing a bad job of hiding it, but your drunk brain is doing a worse job of reading into it.

Kafka helps you gather your hair out of your face with a resigned sigh, wondering to himself if there are any hair ties nearby but not wanting to risk rummaging through your things. In the few moments he takes to ponder this possibility, you've begun to wander off. Feeling a little better after throwing up all the gross, you try to stand on unsteady legs to walk across to your bathroom and Kafka has to catch you for that mistake.

“What are you doing?” The man asks, sounding a little annoyed or maybe shaken. He's holding you in his arms and you look up at him with blurry vision and blink a few times.

“I wanna bath.” You grumble. He stares at you blankly. The thought of you taking a bath when you cannot even keep your own hair out of your toilet or stand upright without support is one that ends only in disaster in his mind. But how does he convey that without sounding like a total creep?!

“Uhh...” The man holds that vowel for a while, until the note dies out on its own. You clearly need it, but... Tactfully now Kafka, don't make it weird. “By...yourself..?” No!!! That's so weird!? He reprimands himself, but you're blissfully ignorant of his internal struggle.

“Hmm..” You lean back against his chest and think about it. “I guess you can join if you wanna..?”

“THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT-!!” Kafka blurts, loud and flustered. He'd probably shove you away if he could do so in good conscience. The man takes a moment to collect himself. He only partially succeeds. “I just don't wantcha to drown in the damn bath! What kinda lousy friend would I be if I let that happen on my watch, huh?!”

You stick a finger in his face and shush him, but you can't help but laugh in his face too. “Shhh...I have neighbours.” You giggle, “Stop yelling and start taking me to the bathroom.” Despite the slur in your words and the childish giggling, your order leaves Kafka no room to argue. So he obliges you. Practically carries you to the bathroom and sits you down on the floor while he fiddles with your taps.

Kafka holds his hands under the stream of water to make sure the temperature is good while you undress behind him. Was your nakedness to be expected? Yes. Was it still very much to his horror? Also yes. He does a good job of hiding his reaction however. You step into the bath and sit down as it's still filling, knees close to your chest and hairbrush in hand.

Internally, Kafka winces at the thought of you getting in without at least rinsing off first. But it isn't his place to say anything about that. He pulls over the bath stool and sits next to you outside the bath.

When it appears that you're struggling with the hairbrush, he frowns and reaches out a helpful hand. He curls his fingers in a “gimme” motion and you get the idea. You hand over the hairbrush and turn your back to him.

Part of you expects to feel like your scalp is being attacked. But you're pleasantly surprised by how gentle he is. He takes a section of hair in one hand and combs the brush down through the ends of your hair, gradually moving up closer to your scalp and then moving onto the next section of hair.

It's over disappointingly quickly. You realise you'd found yourself enjoying having your hair brushed by somebody else for once. He sets aside your hairbrush and runs his fingers through your hair, seeming rather pleased with himself. You hum at the pleasant sensation and tilt your head back far enough that you're looking at him upside-down. He gives you a nervous smile. You stick your tongue out at him.

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Kafka stands up momentarily. He reaches for the shower hose and pulls it from its perch. “Alright.” He says decisively. You watch him gather more of your toiletries up. The water is about up to your hips when he switches the stream from the bath tap to the shower head.

“What's all that for?” You ask, running your hands through the shallow water and resting your cheek on your knees.

“Well you obviously ain't in the bath to marinate.” He replies. A large hand coaxes you to lift your head back up. You do. “Cover your eyes maybe.” He prompts. You rest both of your palms over your face. He pushes your hair back and runs the shower stream over your hair, making sure it's completely saturated before giving the rest of you a once-over with warm water. Then, he switches the shower off entirely.

You hear the snappy sound of a bottle being opened and peek between your fingers to catch a glimpse of Kafka squeezing shampoo into his palm. He closes and sets the bottle aside, rubbing his hands together. Sudsy fingers massage your scalp. You close your eyes, leaning into the touch. His hands are strong, but gentle. He isn't just ticking boxes, he's bathing you with care and intent. Your heart feels warm and your stomach is tingly -- but not in a sickly way.

Kafka reaches for the shower head again and, after prompting that you tilt your head back, gives your hair a rinse. He works the shampoo through your hair, making sure to leave no unrinsed residue behind.

Next up is conditioner, which he applies to the ends of your hair and then carefully combs out. Another rinse. He continues like this, gingerly washing each part of your body and cleaning you up nicely. The flustered and awkward Kafka from before is long gone. He's entered a flow state. It's the best you've been treated probably ever, so you have no complaints.

By the time he's almost done with you, you can barely remember ever feeling gross. You're still brutally drunk, of course. But at least you don't feel disgusting as well-- and honestly, you feel just a touch more sober now. It's as Kafka silently rubs a soapy washcloth into your back that you speak again.

“Mmm...Kafka...” Your voice is soft. Kafka perks up, his hands still continuing in their motion across your back.

“Yeah..?” He responds.

“Why are you doing all of this?” You ask him, looking over your shoulder at him. His eyes are fixed on your washcloth. He pulls it away and wrings it out over the bathwater. Just momentarily, he spares you a glance.

“I dunno. Why...wouldn't I?” He answers with a question of his own, bringing up the shower head one final time to rinse over your body. It's a fair point, yet the dusting of red on his cheeks begs a few more questions that you're in no state to pose. It doesn't make you any the less curious, though...if anything you kind of feel...hmm.

Kafka leans over the tub to pull the drain plug, arranges your toiletries back where they belong, and wanders away to find you a towel. You spend a few moments just sitting there in the draining bath. Thinking. Feeling. You hug your legs to your chest.

Not long goes by before Kafka’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You don't quite catch what he's said but when you look up at him, he's standing beside the bath with one towel on his shoulder and another held open with his gaze averted from you. You arise from the bath and practically collapse into his chest, expecting him to wrap the towel around you. He does.

You snake your arms around him and squeeze him as tight as your body will let you. He's warm and his body is soft. He does his best to keep his cool but inside he is totally panicking. Dutiful hands wrap the towel securely around your body, but that doesn't do much for the wet hair soaking through his shirt.

For Kafka, the amount of time you cling to him is as uncomfortable as it is heavenly. The close contact flusters him, and the temporary coolness he had towards your nudity seems to have run its course. Luckily for him, it doesn't last too long. When you unwind your arms and take a half step away, he feels both relieved and disappointed. He does his best to swallow the latter feeling.

“Come on- let's go get you dressed and get you to bed, ‘kay?” He offers, slipping the second towel from his shoulder and running it over your head to dry your dripping wet hair. You look up at him with a big, stupid, drunk smile. He smiles back and helps you along the hall and into your bedroom.

Unlike him, you have a nice, spacious apartment with western style bedroom and a raised bed. One that you're eager to collapse into but Kafka makes a point of steering you towards your dresser. You huff and, begrudgingly, secure yourself a pair of underwear and a shirt. When you drop your towel without warning, you see Kafka nearly jump out of his own skin and watch him trip over himself to turn away.

You slip on your underwear and pull the shirt down over your head. Oh how nice it is to wear clean, dry clothes. You hang the towels over the end of your bed and collapse into the soft mattress. Before your body sinks into the covers, you roll over onto your back and look at Kafka, still with his back to you.

“Are you staying?” You ask. He jolts and looks over his shoulder.

“Staying? The night?” He asks back. You nod. He shifts his weight awkwardly beneath him. He didn't exactly plan to stay out, why would he have? “If you want me to...” He hums, making his way to your bedroom door. You stop him.

“Where are you going?” You call out.

“Uhh...the...tatami room..?” He replies sheepishly, worried he's done something wrong.

“Why? Stay here...” You say, patting the empty space on your large mattress. Even from here, you can hear him swallowing hard.

“Is...” Kafka stands awkwardly by the door. “Are you sure-?” He pats his hands against his sides and nervously drums his fingers across his outer thighs.

“Before I fall asleep.” You grumble with a yawn, climbing under your covers.

The man stands around looking stupid for a few more moments. His trek back towards your bed is made with stiff, robotic movements. When he sits in your bed, he's clearly tense.

“Come here.” You tug insistently at his shirt. He scoots closer and sits cross-legged now, hands in his lap. Much to your irritation. All you wanted was a free body pillow, but it seems Kafka wants to make your life harder.

“Down. Here.” You huff, clawing at him like a zombie. Finally, finally. He obliges. He uncrosses his legs and shyly slides under the duvet, laying on his back with his hands resting on his stomach. You throw an arm over his chest and wrap your leg around his, the soft material of his comfy sweatpants is nice against your bare skin.

It takes some time, but Kafka eventually relaxes. He reaches an arm out to shut off the bedside lamp and allows himself to get comfortable.

“You're a good friend...” You mumble, resting your cheek against his chest. His heart is so loud. “Good pillow too.” You giggle, squeezing his soft body tightly to yours. You feel a hand come around to gently rub your back.

“Yeah...’course I'm a good friend.” Kafka rumbles gently. It sounds like he's going to say more, but he doesn't.

Silence. At least verbally. His heart is thundering in his chest. You wonder if he can feel yours fluttering through your back. As though it could grow wings and fly off.

“Kafka...” You murmur.

“Yeah?” He looks down at you. Not that he can see much in the darkness.

“Mmm...” You hum, burying your face in his neck. “Nevermind...remind me to ask you in the morning.” You say sleepily, running your hand down his stomach to lace your fingers together with his.

“Yeah...okay...” Kafka replies, throat suddenly dry again. He squeezes your hand tightly. You allow the warmth of his body, the thumping of his heart, and the gentle circles he traces into your back lull you to sleep. In the morning, when you're more sober...you will ask him that question properly.

[geekgirl-1717]

ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ!

ᴋᴀꜰᴋᴀ ʜɪʙɪɴᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

+18 CONTENT/NSFW. MDNI

Tags: AFAB + implied fem! reader, kinda monster-fucking ? kafka does a very partial transformation into kaiju form, oral (f! receiving), tongue-fucking, squirting, overstimulation, kafka is a little bit of a soft dom, mentions of oral (m! receiving), 2nd person, no use of (y/n). banner is from @roseschoices !

oh shit sorry guys my hands slipped I accidentally wrote 2k+ words of lowkey monster-fucker smut oops

it felt like hours since kafka had first settled himself between your thighs, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you with his sweet yet sinful tongue. during times like this, you were convinced kafka ate you out for his pleasure just as much as yours.

by this point, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness. the pleasure was immense, just shy of overwhelming, but you felt like you were floating all the same.

kafka’s voice brought you back down to earth.

“do you trust me?"

those words were mumbled into your skin, his hot breath tickling your bare thighs. your head was filled with cotton, hazy and nearly spent from the pleasure kafka had been lavishing you with. but even in your pleasure-drunken state, you instinctually nodded. you knew you could always trust kafka, and right now was no different.

kafka gave you a beaming smile before directing his attention back to your dripping pussy. you let your head fall back against the pillows, reaching down to gently thread your fingers through kafka’s hair as you anticipated the return of his gentle ministrations.

you nearly yanked a chunk of his locks from his poor head, however, when a foreign yet overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation penetrated your core. it was soft and wet, yet too impossibly long to be his tongue, brushing against spots deep within you that even your own fingers could never reach.

“kafka- oh god. fuck. what’re you- ohhh fuck.”

you could hardly think straight, much less speak. with tremendous effort, you lifted your gaze enough to see whatever kafka was doing between your legs. you looked just in time to see it was a tongue, thick and probing and definitely not human, slithering back into kafka’s mouth. a set of sharp teeth now extended up his cheeks almost to his ears. you’d seen him like this a few times, when he would accidentally leave behind traces of his kaiju form before he gained better control over his ability.

although this time, it certainly wasn’t an accident.

kafka was fixing you with an almost bashful look. despite now having a visage that most would deem terrifying, you found it endearing.

“is this- uh. is this… okay?”

his voice came out deep and raspy, sending a shockwave of arousal up your spine. if you felt like your head was spinning before, you were absolutely reeling now. it was all a bit sudden, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t stir something deep within you.

“y-yeah, you can keep going, baby.”

kafka appeared relieved, before a look of determination crossed his face.

“i’ll be gentle, sweetheart. i promise.��

you knew he would be. he always was. his caring nature shone through in every facet of his life, but he was especially so gentle with you during sex, caressing your body as though it were made of glass and stopping immediately at the slightest hint of discomfort.

he started by softly running his tongue up and down the length of your folds, as if to test the waters. his tongue then trailed its way up to your clit, prodding and curling around the sensitive bud. the pleasure was immense, even from such a simple ministration, and it caused your hips to twitch involuntarily.

kafka pulled away immediately, causing you to let out a soft whine. he caressed your thighs in a soothing manner, that gravely voice reaching your ears once again.

“was that alright? are you still okay with this?”

you had to stop yourself from groaning in frustration. you knew this was just kafka’s nature, his way of ensuring your comfort and well-being, but god did you wish he would stop holding himself back in moments like this.

“please, please don’t stop. i-i’ll tell you if ‘s too much but please- just keep going.”

you were sure you sounded pathetic, begging and pleading when he’d barely done anything to you, but you couldn’t handle kafka’s unintentional teasing for much longer.

kafka tensed momentarily, but steeled himself before returning to the task at hand.

little did you know, kafka had been having very similar thoughts as yours. he would never even dream of hurting you in any way, but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to let loose sometimes, allowing his lust and devotion for you to fully consume his thoughts and actions.

maybe it was something to do with his monstrous transformation, albeit partial, but he was finding it more and more difficult to restrain himself. his senses were heightened. your smell, your sweet moans and whines, all of it was driving him crazy.

kafka’s hands came up to wrap around your legs, pulling you closer to his eager mouth. that enormous tongue lolled out of his mouth again, slurping through your folds with more fervor. he was able to use the flat of his long tongue to grind against your clit while the tip snaked down to tease at your entrance.

“shit! so good- so good. don’t stop.”

your hand found its way back into his hair, using it as an anchor to keep yourself grounded through the mind-numbing pleasure. you were going to end up giving this poor man a bald spot with how hard you had been gripping the strands, but kafka hardly seemed to care. your words of praise combined with the tinge of pain from your tugging made him let out what you could only call a growl, a deep and primal noise that reverberated through your core.

his tongue moved down lower, focusing its attention solely on your dripping hole. you were already soaked from your previous orgasms, but he continued lapping up your slick like a man starved. your hips jerked and twitched wildly, something kafka didn’t seem to like.

he curled his arms around the backs of your thighs, solidly holding you in place. he let out another toe-curling growl before speaking in that sinfully raspy voice.

“stop squirming.”

it was such a simple command, one he only intended to give so he wouldn’t accidentally scratch you with his fangs, but it sent a white-hot rush of pleasure between your legs. you could only whine in response, reaching your free hand up behind your head to tangle in the sheets. you forced yourself to remain still, tilting your gaze up to fix kafka with a pleading look.

kafka couldn’t quite smile, but you could see the satisfaction in his eyes as he squeezed the fat of your thighs.

“atta girl.”

you hardly had time to process his words before he was absolutely devouring you.

his tongue plunged into your needy hole, stroking and pressing against your walls. the tip brushed gently against your cervix, and you felt your eyes roll back at the sensation. kafka’s strong grip on your thighs ensured you remained open and pliant for him, leaving you no choice but to lay back and take everything he was giving you.

he began thrusting his tongue in and out of you, essentially fucking you with the monstrous organ. it was hot and wet and unlike anything you’d ever felt before, a pleasure that no one else but him could deliver.

your moans and whimpers reverberated off the walls. you were too far gone to worry about keeping quiet, and kafka was reveling in each and every noise. by this point, he was thoroughly drunk off your taste, your heady scent, your cries of ecstasy. he began grinding his throbbing cock into the mattress, chasing his pleasure as rapidly as he was delivering yours.

you shrieked as kafka suddenly yanked you impossibly closer, burying his face in your heat. his sharp fangs brushed against your clit and the soft skin of your inner thighs, adding yet another dizzying sensation. all the while, kafka continued to fuck you on his tongue, prodding against spots that had the coil in the pit of your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“a-ah god. please, kafka. pleasepleaseplease!”

you weren’t even sure what you were begging for, pleasure clouding your mind and slurring your words in a messy jumble. but as if knowing exactly what you needed, kafka tilted his head and angled his tongue upwards, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot within you.

“fuck- kafka!”

you were nearly sobbing now, your vision going white as kafka thrust his tongue against that spot relentlessly. your legs were shaking, the pleasure in your core building into something more intense and unfamiliar.

“wait, wait! kafka- oh fuck! too much, ‘s too much!”

you pushed against kafka’s heads futilely, but his grip on your legs only tightened. lust had consumed his instincts entirely as he continued to rut into the mattress, never once letting up on his pleasurable assault on your cunt.

it was all too much for you to handle. this new, dominant side to kafka, the addictingly teasing scratch of his goatee and sharp fangs against your heated skin, his tongue seemingly devouring you from the inside out, all of it made the tension in your stomach finally snap.

your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as your orgasm crashed over you, and you swore you nearly blacked out from the intensity. you barely registered the hot rush of liquid gushing from your core, soaking the sheets beneath you and dripping down kafka’s chin.

your back curved into a near-painful arch, your legs kicking out and thighs clamping hard around kafka’s head as your body couldn’t decide whether to escape from or indulge in the overwhelming pleasure wracking your body.

kafka didn’t leave you much of a choice, however. his hands traveled from your thighs to your hips, holding you down against the mattress with a fierce grip you were sure would leave behind bruises (not that you really minded) as he tongue worked relentlessly to prolong your orgasm as much as possible.

even after you came down from your pleasure high, kafka’s tongue continued to probe lazily around your spent hole, lapping up the rest of your remaining juices. your hand released its death grip on his scalp to push weakly at his head.

“too much, baby. i can’t-.”

you managed to slur out. thankfully, kafka relented, finally retracting his tongue and allowing you a reprieve.

you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. you vaguely registered kafka calling your name, but it sounded muffled and distant, as though you were underwater. still, you managed to crack your eyes open to see kafka, having reverted to his normal state, hovering over you and gazing down with a look of concern.

“love, are you okay? was that too much? shit, i’m so sorry-"

you managed a weak chuckle, reaching a hand up to gently card through kafka’s hair. whatever beast had been unleashed before was now satiated, with kafka back to his usual doting self.

“‘m fine baby. it was so good. you’re so good to me.”

kafka sighed in relief before leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. his goatee was still coated in your wetness, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care.

returning the favor to kafka briefly crossed your mind, but as he pressed himself closer to deepen the kiss, you felt a damp spot on his boxers pressing into your leg. the knowledge that kafka had been rutting into the mattress, getting himself off on your pleasure alone, made a dull throb pulse in your core, but the fatigue settling into every nook and cranny of your body pushed away any thoughts of another round.

kafka flopped down next to you before wrapping his arms around your waist. you snuggled against his bare chest, basking in the peaceful silence that enveloped you two.

after a few moments, you propped yourself up so you were face to face with kafka, a teasing grin spreading across your features.

“so, where did that come from, hm?”

kafka flushed red with embarrassment. unable to make eye contact with you, he stumbled over his words.

“well, uh- you know- i-i just wanted to make you feel good. but i didn’t wanna scare you or anything! a-and i didn’t wanna do too much, so i felt like this was a good place to start, ya know?”

you giggled, leaning in closer and fixing him with a sultry look.

“'a good place to start,' huh? sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this. tell me, do you have any other ideas about how you could put your powers to good use?”

you emphasized your question with a wink, relishing in the way kafka’s face became impossibly redder. he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled you snug against him so you could no longer look at him.

“you- you must be really tired! we should take a nap now!”

you laughed out loud, but conceded, ceasing your teasing for the time being so you both could get some well-needed rest.

the bedsheets needed to be cleaned, and you and kafka both were in desperate need of a shower. you also apparently had a lot to discuss with him about your latest discoveries in the bedroom. but all of that could wait until later.

for now, you were happy right where you were.

[helios-writings]

Pairing: Kafka Hibino x gn! Reader

Warnings: none

You hum to yourself as the bacon sizzles in the pan, the morning light streaming through the open blinds. It’s almost a perfect morning, as peaceful as it is, but something’s missing.

But as the coffee maker beeps and you hear footsteps enter the kitchen, you figure out what it is. Or rather, who it is.

Kafka yawns loudly as he pours himself a cup of coffee and then immediately makes yours the way you like it, setting it down next to you as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you.

“Mornin’.” He mumbles, his head buried into your neck.

You laugh as his beard tickles you. “Morning to you too. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

You roll your eyes and he tries to lean in to kiss you, but you dodge.

“Kafka, I’m not kissing you until you brush your teeth.”

He sighs heavily and whines. “You’re so unfair to me, I’m wounded. I’m going to die, right here.”

“And you’re dramatic. It’s just two minutes!”

Your longtime boyfriend grumbles all the way to the bathroom and you laugh softly as he does so.

You plate the bacon up and place it on the table with the rest of the breakfast you’d cooked.

Kafka grabs you by the waist and pulls you into a kiss, this time you let him.

He grins into the kiss, one that’s still on his face as you pull away. “You know, I don’t mind waking up like this everyday.”

“I’m not cooking for you everyday.” You say, teasing.

“No, I mean you should move in.”

You drop the fork you’re holding and stare, wide eyed, at your boyfriend. “Kafka Hibino, if this is a joke-“

“When have I ever joked about something this serious?”

You raise an eyebrow and he flushes.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair but this isn’t a joke. I want to wake up next to you everyday so you can force me to brush my teeth before I kiss you.”

You snort. “Charming.”

“Plus, you’re over all the time, nothing would change except me being here to greet you when you get off of work.”

You think for a few moments, saying nothing, but you can see Kafka glancing around nervously, like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.

“Okay,” you tell him, “I’ll move in.”

“Yeah?” He’s grinning again, positively ecstatic from the news.

“Yeah.”

The rest of breakfast continues in silence as the pair of you eat and you’re already thinking about where you’re going to put all your stuff and how nice it’s going to be, coming home to someone. And then you have an idea.

“We should get a cat.”

“A cat?” He echoes, confused.

“Think about how much fun it would be to have a cat! They’re so cute, Kafka, please?”

You know you’ve got him when he turns away from your gaze, cheeks flushed. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

You pull him into a hug. “You’re the best.”

“Let’s just get you moved in first before you decide to move a whole farm in here.” He jokes, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You do eventually get moved in and the pair of you do get a cat. And another. And another. (The last two were his idea.) Kafka draws the line at cat number three, but every night when he goes to sleep, all three of them curl up on his chest, and you’re wrapped around one of his arms like a koala.

[owlettie]

Kaiju No. 8 Fan Comic Expansion

A written scenario from the comic I drew. It’s more like a self insert OC x Gen Narumi thing. More oc than anything.

I have no beta testers, just grammarly. Bear with me.

Tags: Cringe (lovingly), Yume ship, Self Insert OC, OcxCanon build up, More OC lore, timeskips within each hyphen, this takes place 3-4 years before main story, I am hopelessly in love with Gen, yapping sess in the end

Word count: 1.58 K (Last time I wrote this much was my 5th grade hetalia fanfic lmao)

Arriving in Japan’s hot summer only to train for less than a month for the auditions is crucial for Persephone. It was her only chance to escape all of the negative people and memories from her old country; moving to the country of Kaiju seemed like a haven for her.

Unlike the average person who wishes to become a JAKDF officer, she had connections to high-ranking officials in her youth.

In her first year of high school, she won a scholarship program to live in Japan for a year to study their culture and history. The citizens never knew peace when it came to Kaiju. It was her first time learning about what that word meant. Her host sister and Persephone wanted to go grocery shopping, but they were in the crossfire of Yoju Kaijus crawling around. Persephone rose to distract the Yoju in a crisis, buying her sister time to run away and hide. Her unruly brown locks hit across her face as she uses the reptilian-like Yoju’s scales as a shield and blade. She was effectively damaging the Yoju’s legs, immobilizing them. Before Persephone could give it a finishing blow, the officers from the First Division arrived. They were impressed with the potential growing inside of her, a simple business card was handed in case the future of hers were to change and work for them. To their wishes and her unfortunate circumstances, it became true.

Scoring a spot for the First Division is no easy feat. It’s where the best of the best reins to protect its fellow citizens. For Persephone to be a foreigner, many eyes were on her. She knew that coming to Japan would have a lot of high expectations on her, even if she wasn’t that fluent in the language the aura around them was tense. It was orientation for all of the new officers joining the division. Persephone stood in the front row as Captain Gen Narumi and Vice Captain Eiji Hasegawa welcomed them.

Seeing Hasegawa in a professional light was a bit jarring for the woman to perceive but she adapted quickly as he will now be one of her bosses rather than a guardian. Narumi is a recently instated captain. He was known to have a more casual air around him but all the officers treated him seriously and professionally. Hasegawa reminded her before the ceremony about Narumi; informing her that they were both similar with high aptitudes before wielding a Kaiju’s part. Hearing it from the tall gentleman, it was clear that she would be just as talented and powerful as The Captain of The First Division.

‘Narumi Gen…I will become stronger so I can become your equal.’ Her rosy pink eyes stare intensely at the two-tone-haired man.

-

Training is essential for everyone, and Persephone was no exception. Aside from sleeping, eating, and drawing, training was the main focus. Spending hours training and working out, the petite girl heads out of the room. A figure walked past her like nothing but she was quick to realize it was the captain. She must make a good first impression. Persephone stood straight with a smile, “Good Evening, Gen-san!” She exclaimed in gratitude and respect.

Narumi stood still for a moment, questioning if he heard her right. ‘Gen-san? Oh right, she’s a foreigner. Okay.’ Quickly realizing the person he passed, the male simply shrugged it off, a slight head nod before walking away.

‘I did it. He listened…I think? Oh well. I need to go to my dorm room. Gen-san is very respectful, right? I’ll be sure to call him that again next time.’

-

“Gen-san! Good work out there, today!” A bright smile beams on her face as the division makes their way back to headquarters. The male with his slick back hair let out an audible sound of amusement. During their previous passes, it was just the two of them but now the entire division looked back at the sudden closeness and familiarity that the rookie has to the captain.

Shinonome gently tugged on the brunette’s arm before whispering in her ear.

”Castellano, Gen is his first name. Narumi is his surname. We call him Narumi-san, not Gen-san.” It was straightforward but kind which only made the Latina woman’s cheeks flare up into a deep rose color.

”EEEEeeeeehhhhhhhh?????!!!???!” Her shock gasps, staring at the platoon leader and back at the captain; practically giving herself whiplash as the officers surrounding them whisper and chuckle among themselves.

“I’m so sorry!” Persephone quickly bowed at 90 degrees, wishing that no one else could see her red and embarrassed face.

“You can apologize to me with your strength,” Narumi stated, breaking the silence as Persephone looked up with a relieved look.

”Yes sir!”

-

Even though Narumi Gen can be childish and lazy aside from his Kaiju slaying duties, Persephone tends to be similar whenever she’s free from training. Following the platoon leader’s informative correction of Persephone’s respectful words, the girl hasn't brought herself to call the captain, “Narumi-san.” No matter how hard she tries.

“Ugh, it’s so weird to call him like that when I’ve been calling him Gen-san the entire time!! Whhhyyy!!! You would think that by watching anime as a kid and going to a Japanese school I should know!! I should know!! Aaahhhh, it’s so cringey!! It’s a simple surname. It’s Na….Na…Nananaaa..ruuuu..Mimi….Naru…Naru…mmm…iiii…”

”Castellano. You’re still here?”

”AAAahh! I mean- y-yes! Uueeh?! N-Na-Na-Nar-Narumi—sa-sa-saaa-“

”Gen-san is fine.” He raised his hand up to reassure her. His hair was down, and his choppy layered dyed bangs covered his eyes a bit, leaving his face more obscure to the rookie.

”Gen-sama.” A spur of the moment Peresephone’s mind completely jumped to an honorific for the gods, it caught both of them off guard. Realizing her mistake, she made an sideways L shape on her right hand to tuck under her chin to play it off like a joke. This threw off Narumi where he was holding back his laughter until it spilled everywhere. A hearty laugh escapes her lips struggling to maintain a smile from the embarrassment and humor.

“HAHAAHAHAA GEN-SAMA? I KNOW I’M THE BEST BUT PFFFTT AHAHAHAAHAH!” His hands wrapped around his waist as he bent over from laughter. The girl’s face went red but let out a fit of giggles seeing this new side of the captain.

“Gen-san! Gen-san! I won’t call you that again. Or in front of them.” Her lips curl up into an amused smile, calming down as Gen looks back at her.

“Mm. Gen-san is fine if it’s from you. I‘ve seen how you train, let that be Gen-sama’s privilege to you.” His tone became playful, reassuring her that it was all good, a slight tease to the sama part.

“Oh, Gen-sama is so gracious. I will do my best.” A teasing phrase to him.

“’If it’s only me?’ What does that even mean? Is it because I’m a foreigner? Must be huh…gaijin privileges is..interesting.”

—————

This is the comic in question if this is your first time seeing this. Thank you for making it to the very end.

[ryescapades-archived]

⋆｡˚୨ 𓂃 about, terms and conditions 𓂃 ୧˚｡⋆

★━ 18+ contents you have been warned. ★━ ageless and/or blank blogs will be blocked! ★━ no age restriction to interact & be moots with me but minors pls block my nsfw tag. ★━ you are welcomed in my inbox if you wanna chat/be mutuals! i don't bite srs (unless u want me to aha bites lip rizz). ★━ english is not my first language so pls don't berate me for my grammar as i'm trying my best to improve. ★━ a chronic self-reblogger. ★━ comments and reblogs are highly appreciated (especially if u've sent a request, i wanna know whether you're satisfied with it or not). ★━ my works are either gender-neutral, afab or fem!reader insert.

⋆｡˚୨ 𓂃 requests 𓂃 ୧˚｡⋆

★━ i'll do my best to finish them but please bear with me if they take a while. i am not a full time writer. ★━ personally, i prefer it more if the request is not too detailed. it'd give me more room and freedom to make up ideas for it. ★━ if i end up not doing your request, don't take it personally (and respectfully, suck it up). i write what i want and what i can. i don't owe anyone anything. ★━ i age up characters in my smut fics! and they’re usually x fem or afab!reader ★━ things i don't/can't write: m!reader, noncon, dubcon, incest, r*pe, misogyny, yandere (i read them sometimes but not writing it), mostly just dark contents

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⋆｡˚୨ 𓂃 fandoms 𓂃 ୧˚｡⋆

nijisanji en, kaiju no.8, blue lock, kuroko no basket, genshin impact, jujutsu kaisen, my hero academia, akatsuki no yona, wind breaker, tokyo revengers, tougen anki, gokurakugai, magi, haikyuu, mashle, bungou stray dogs, vanitas no carte, yakuza fiance, sakamoto days, solo leveling

⋆｡˚୨ 𓂃 writing 𓂃 ୧˚｡⋆

characters i can try to write for (most > least confident in) :

kn8: narumi, hoshina, reno bllk: rin, sae, nagi, isagi, kaiser, bachira, reo, oliver, chigiri, shidou, karasu, hiori, barou wbk: sakura, suo, togame, endo, umemiya, takiishi, kaji, kiryu hq: (too many to list so i guess almost all of them ?? except for the coaches) genshin: childe, kinich, alhaitham, scara, xiao, kazuha, wrio, thoma touanki: mudano (i'm biased but if someone asks for the others i can make an attempt) jjk: megumi, yuta, maki, nanami, yuji, gojo knb: kise, aomine, akashi mha: katsuki, shoto, hawks, dabi, shinsou

subjected to some OOC-ness ^^

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[margoteve]

I have to admit something- on the side i am writing a Kafka x OC fic and I am a bit scared of the reception lol. No, she is not a reader insert. It will be 3rd person narration. It's gonna have some action and perchance slowish burn. It starts about a week before lchikawa joins Monster Sweeper.

In other news I have two purely kn8 cast stories in progress circling around Kafka. One about his First Division days before the big fight with no. 9. And another one a little bit more silly canon alteration. Those will be done faster.

[narumi-gens]

Can you list some shameful moments of the chaos couple

I decided to go with the kn8!chaos couple's most shameful moment and it...got a little away from me...

#1 Trending

narumi gen x f!reader

summary: Narumi has always wanted to be the number one trending topic in Japan. You don’t think this is how he intended for it to happen.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut-adjacent?, f!reader, established relationship, idk what kind of warnings to give for this tbh, sexi pics (but not full-on nudes but mentions of full-on nudes), sharing sexi pics without permission (but reader doesn't really care?), popsicle as a substitute for dick, talk about facesitting, spit kink, dirty talk, more relationship negotiations (but again not in a mature way), the kn8!chaos couple really need to be better about phone security, this is like peak narumi, it's not a kn8!chaos couple fic if a phone isn't getting broken

words: 4.4k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

The last thing you're expecting as you're sitting in bed at 10 pm, scrolling through your phone, is to have a bright red popsicle shoved in front of your face. Your gaze follows the arm holding it out and then lifts up to see Narumi looking at you impatiently.

You glance down at the popsicle and then back up, wordlessly raising an eyebrow as you wait for an explanation. Narumi doesn't give you one. He just shakes the popsicle in front of your face, gesturing for you to take it.

Your eyes narrow as you look back at the popsicle, wondering if this is some sort of trap. Slowly, carefully, you take it from him. But before you can raise it to your lips, he's tugging at the oversized shirt that you're wearing – technically his oversized shirt.

"What are you doing?" you snap, trying to swat his hands away without dropping the red popsicle onto the white sheets. He's not trying to pull your shirt off. Instead, he's yanking at one of the shoulders, stretching the neck wide.

"Don't worry about it," he says even as he continues to tug on the fabric until the cotton has been stretched so far that one of your bare shoulders is exposed.

"What the fuck, Gen?" There's no anger in your voice, just irritation as you go to fix your shirt only for him to slap the back of your hand before you can. You glower up at him, but he's now too busy pulling out his phone to see.

When he raises his phone in your direction, you realize he's trying to take a picture of you and you roll your eyes. You sit up on your knees and with the hand not holding the popsicle, you lift the hem of your shirt up to your chin to show off your tits for the camera.

But then the unthinkable happens. Narumi lowers his phone and gives you an annoyed look.

"Put those away," he scolds you and a loud, offended cry escapes you as you drop your shirt.

"What the fuck, Gen?" This time there's only anger in your voice.

"Can you just eat the popsicle?" he asks, acting like you’re the one who's being difficult. The glare you give him is cold enough to send a shiver down his spine, but after a moment, you look down at the popsicle in your hand.

You tilt your head curiously as you turn it over. You don't know why he would want a picture of you licking a popsicle when he could have yet another one of you licking his cock but you've never really been one to ask questions.

With a shrug, you wrap your lips around the tip of the popsicle and look up at him expectantly. Narumi has his phone lifted again but he's frowning at the screen.

"Be sexier."

You're overcome with the urge to remove the popsicle from your mouth and throw it at his big, dumb head. Instead, you hollow out your cheeks and insert it halfway into your mouth.

"Sexier."

You take a deep inhale – to keep yourself calm, not to hold your breath – as you bury the popsicle fully in your mouth, the entire popsicle hidden behind your lips so only the end of the stick, and the bad joke printed on it, is visible.

"Sexier."

You take the popsicle out of your mouth with an obscene slurp and scowl up at him.

"What other sexy ways are there to eat a popsicle?" you ask through gritted teeth, your fingers holding onto the stick so tightly that you're surprised it hasn't snapped.

"Use your tongue," he tells you and you bite back a sigh because you usually only hear those three words when he groans them in between ragged panting.

With the popsicle held straight up, you lick it with the flat of your tongue, pausing halfway up to look directly at the camera lens on Narumi's phone with the sultriest eyes that you can manage.

"Fucking perfect," he grins and just that small bit of praise is enough to have you wanting to squirm.

You're about to tell him that you're ready to lick something bigger when he turns his back and walks away from you completely with nothing more than an absent "thanks'' tossed over his shoulder. You let out a scoff of disbelief, wondering what this was all for if he wasn't going to spend the rest of the night fucking you so hard that you wouldn't be able to walk in the morning.

Deciding to at least be grateful that he was uncharacteristically thoughtful enough to thank you, you collapse back into bed, returning your attention to your phone as you finish eating your cherry popsicle in a way that Narumi would probably deem “unsexy.”

The answer to your question about "what this was all for" comes the next morning when you're sitting in the Operation Room, a pair of noise-canceling headphones over your ears, your eyes closed, and your feet kicked up on the console as you lean back in your chair, ignoring the activity around you – just one of the perks of being the boss.

There's a timid tap on your shoulder and you peek open an eye to see one of the Operations Minions, or what Hasegawa would call "new recruits" standing over you. She looks like she's torn between fainting and running away.

In the back of your head, you can hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Hasegawa's reminding you that you need to be more welcoming to the newer recruits.

Hasegawa-but-not-Hasegawa also scolds you for thinking of them as minions.

Without removing your headphones, you give her an indifferent, "Huh?"

You see her lips moving but hear nothing that she's saying. When you don't react, you see her glance anxiously back at the small group of Operations Minions huddled together by the door. She tries again, her lips moving, forming the same words, only this time you assume spoken louder.

She becomes visibly discouraged when you still don't react, her head dropping down as she clutches her tablet tightly to her chest. You think she's getting ready to shout this time and you decide that if she's loud enough to be heard through your headphones, then she'll be worthy of you learning her name.

But before she can unknowingly test herself, the doors to the Operation Room open and Kurusu, the Director General’s own personal aid, enters. You grin when you see how his expression morphs into one of exasperation as he takes in the sight of your lackadaisical sprawl at what is technically your battle station.

He looks warily at the group of new recruits as he passes them but seems to say nothing. His upside-down form comes to a stop before you and he looks at you expectantly, but your grin only stretches wider as you continue to lounge at your console.

Finally, he turns to the Operations Minion who looks visibly relieved to no longer be the only person vying for your attention. Whatever she tells him seems to only aggravate him more because he places both hands on his waist and drops his head forward. He takes a moment to gather his strength and returns his focus to you.

He reaches out and plucks your headphones from your head, making you cry out in displeasure. But you know that you won’t get them back until Kurusu leaves, so you merely give a resigned sigh.

You drop your feet from the console and sit up properly so that you can spin around in your chair and face him and the cowering recruit who’s now looking at Kurusu like he’s her savior.

“Okay, what’s up, Minion-san?” you ask and she freezes at the nickname. Kurusu merely gives you an unamused look.

“You really need to learn their names,” he tiredly admonishes. Choosing to swoop in and save the recruit yet again, he takes it upon himself to be the one to deliver her news. “Captain Narumi’s trending on Twitter. He hit number one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“That’s what this was all about?” you ask uninterestedly as you turn back around towards your console. “Good for him.”

But just as you begin to give the data on your monitor a cursory look that will make you look busier than you actually are, you pause.

“Wait, Gen’s trending? For what?”

There’s a suspicious silence in the Operation Room. You dig your phone from the pocket of your lab coat to find that it's exploded with notifications. You feel your eye twitch.

The twitch grows more severe when you open Twitter and see that the number of DMs and the number of notifications both read 99+.

Your account is as private as Twitter allows. Your followers need to be approved before they can see your account. The only people who can DM you are people you follow.

Even your profile picture is just a picture of an empty cup of instant ramen with a pair of chopsticks sitting across the rim.

For you to have this many notifications and DMs, just from people you actually know, is a sign that Narumi has fucked up big. When you go to see why he’s trending, you’re surprised your phone doesn’t shatter in your hand from how tight your grip gets.

Written beneath where “Narumi Gen” is listed as the number one trending topic in all of Japan is, “The JAKDF’s First Division Captain Narumi gets catfished.”

When you tap on it, the first tweet that’s featured is from an account named “lick my 🍑” and you find yourself debating whether or not you should just delete your account and the app altogether. As you read their tweet, you quickly begin to lean towards the “delete everything” camp.

lick my 🍑 @/XXXXXX · 12 hours ago LOLLL said narumi’s probably an incel and he dmed me a pic of his “gf” 😂😂😂😂 no way that little bitch could get a babe like this! japan's "strongest" is getting catfished lmfao

Attached to the tweet is a screenshot of their DM history with Narumi, which unsurprisingly begins with the picture he took of you last night licking the popsicle followed by, “would an incel have a girlfriend this hot? 😏”

To prove their point that Naurmi could never “get a babe like this,” they’ve also attached the full picture of you beside the DM.

“Fucking perfect,” you mockingly repeat Narumi’s words from the night before. You try to find what little solace you can in the fact that you at least look good in the picture that’s now gone viral.

You do a quick scroll through the feed to see that the general online consensus is that “lick my 🍑” is right about Narumi being catfished. You then search for Narumi’s account and when you get to his profile, you’re met with the message:

You blocked @/NarumiGen Are you sure you want to view these tweets? Viewing tweets won’t unblock @/NarumiGen

“You blocked Captain Narumi? Aren’t you…dating?” a voice says, startling you and when you look up, you see the Operations Minion with her eyes glued to your phone screen as she leans over your shoulder.

When she seems to realize that she said the words aloud and that she’s been caught peeking, her eyes go wide before she hides her face behind her tablet. You go back to your phone with a snort.

“I blocked him on my first day with the Division,” you inform her as you tap the button to view Narumi’s profile, only to immediately wish that you hadn’t.

It doesn’t take much scrolling through his feed to see that he’s having a very public breakdown, replying to everyone who at’s him and insisting that he does have a girlfriend – a real girlfriend.

His case isn’t helped by the fact that when he tries to mention your account, it doesn’t work because you blocked him.

You can physically feel yourself getting closer and closer to snapping the further and further you scroll. When you scroll back to the top, what little remaining semblance of self-control you have evaporates when you see that Narumi is still tweeting, the latest tweet having been sent only ten seconds ago.

You’re moving on instinct, slipping your phone back into your pocket and yanking open one of the drawers stacked underneath the desk. It takes a moment to dig through its contents, but your search comes to an end when you pull out a hammer with a cry that sounds a little too dark to be triumphant.

The reactions from the others in the room vary widely.

For the most part, the Operations Team is unfazed, having grown used to yours and Narumi’s relationship. Kurusu merely shakes his head. The Operations Minions are the only ones who seem to be frightened by the sight of the Head of Operations wielding a hammer whose intended target is the First Division’s Captain.

You’re already shoving past the huddle of recruits crowding the entryway by the time Kurusu makes one last, but knowingly futile, attempt to grab your attention.

“Wait! I have things I need to talk to you about! Director Shinomiya asked me to–” he shouts after you, only to be cut off when the double doors shut behind you. He begins to rub his temples with a groan at the headache that’s already beginning to form.

“...Is…is she going to kill him?”

Kurusu opens his eyes to see the new recruit at his side looking up to him with a horrified expression on her young face. He simply gives a resigned sigh.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Something else will probably have come up by tomorrow,” he tells her. He then does his best to give her a reassuring smile. “Welcome to the First Division.”

You know exactly where to find Narumi. He has a favorite spot on the base for ego surfing – the base’s roof terrace. And sure enough, when you slam open the door, you’re met with the sight of Narumi sitting on one of the benches, hunched over his phone, frantically typing as he sends out tweet after tweet.

He’s so engrossed in replying to everyone in his mentions, muttering insults under his breath, that he doesn’t even register your sudden presence, making it easy for you to snatch his phone from him before he can send the next tweet.

“Hey!” he cries out angrily before he realizes that it’s you and has the audacity to grow even more outraged, standing up and pointing an accusing finger at you. “You blocked me on Twitter!”

You swat away his hand with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been blocked on Twitter,” you point out. “If anything, I should be the one angry at you for taking so long to notice.”

He makes a sudden move to grab his phone back but you’re quick to hold it out of his reach. It vibrates incessantly in your hand as notification after notification comes through. The fact that he has push notifications on for his Twitter mentions makes you want to roll your eyes all over again.

It’s only when you wave the hammer in your other hand for him to see that he pauses. His gaze darts from the hammer to you to his phone and then back, only to do it all over again.

It’s then that he finally seems to understand the situation that he’s found himself in — an irate girlfriend, a phone that’s blowing up with notifications, and a new reputation as Japan’s most famous catfishing victim.

The exhale that leaves him is so exaggerated that you can practically see a speech bubble with the word “SIGH” written in it appear next to him. He then takes a small step back, putting just enough space between the two of you so that he’s no longer practically climbing over you to reach his phone. He drops his head forward and smacks his palms together as he clasps his hands in front of him.

“Please fix this for me,” he mutters.

You can feel your eye twitch, your grip around the hammer growing tighter as he acts like it physically pains him to say the words aloud. When his phone buzzes in your hand for the umpteenth time, it takes every ounce of what little self-control you have to keep from shattering it.

When you continue to remain silent, he tilts his head up and peeks open an eye at you only to find you looking even angrier than before. Your gaze narrows, the corners of your lips threatening to turn into an even deeper frown, and he realizes that he needs to do more, quickly.

Discarding the last dregs of what little pride he actually has, Narumi drops down to his knees in a proper seiza, his posture straighter than you’ve ever seen. With his hands resting on his thighs, he then gives a deep bow.

“Please fix this for me,” he repeats, this time much more earnestly, the words dripping with desperation.

Your anger is quick to dissipate as you bask in the sight of Narumi on his knees begging for you — just how you like it.

You slip your hammer into the pocket of your lab coat and cross your arms over your chest as you look curiously at his phone with one hip cocked out. As you watch notification after notification pop up on his lock screen, you know that the solution to his problem is simple.

“What’ll you give me to make this go away?” you ask with disinterest.

“I’ll let you sit on my face,” he’s quick to offer and you roll your eyes.

“I already do that,” you scoff, returning your gaze to him to find him looking searchingly up at you, clearly hoping for some clue as to what you want in exchange for getting Twitter off his back.

He sighs and his uncharacteristically straight posture gives as he slumps forward.

“I’ll give you first dibs on the BS5 this week,” he says and your irritation spikes at how he treats the offer like it’s a deeply generous one.

“This week?” He glances up in time to catch your raised eyebrow.

“And next week,” he counters, the offer making him flinch.

But you want more. To remind him of just how much he needs your help, you turn his phone off silent and it immediately pings aloud.

And then pings again.

And again.

And again.

And again, each one causing Narumi to fold in on himself until he’s practically doubled over.

It’s only when he places both hands down on the ground and drops his forehead between them, the greatest show of respect he could possibly give you, that you turn his phone back to silent.

“The next month.”

It’s a good thing that Narumi’s head is dropped down, otherwise the smirk that slowly appears on your lips would have a shiver running down his spine. You debate trying to push for more, knowing that you could probably get whatever you want at this point, but decide to be merciful.

“Alright, Gen. I’ll fix this for you,” you tell him with a casual shrug and his reaction is immediate.

He throws his arms around your thighs and tugs you close. He rests his cheek against your stomach as he clings to you and chants a mantra of “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

As you savor the feeling of his gratefulness, a rare treat, you unlock his phone and curiously open his camera roll.

“Why didn’t you just post a picture of us together?” Your question is unnecessary because as you begin to scroll through his photos, the answer is apparent.

“The only pictures I have are nudes,” he replies easily, the truth underscored by the countless pictures you find on his phone of the both of you in compromising positions — his face between your thighs, his cock buried in your mouth, you sitting in his lap in front of a mirror with him buried deep inside of you as you hold open your folds for the camera.

You might be more concerned about the sheer volume of photos on his phone if you didn’t already know that your phone’s camera roll looks exactly the same. In fact, your phone is probably worse considering yours has the better camera of the two.

The hammer weighs heavy in your pocket and you can only hope that he has his photos backed up in the cloud.

You give his shoulder a light shove and he releases you so that you can sit down on the bench. As he sits beside you, you open his camera before returning it back to him. Taking firm hold of his chin, you direct him to face forward so that he’s looking directly at his phone’s front-facing camera.

“Ready?” you ask, waiting for him to find the perfect camera angle.

“Fuck yeah,” he answers and you can hear the eagerness in his voice.

You’d bet good money that if you reached over and grabbed his cock, it would be at least semi-hard. You purposely don’t think about how his arousal more than likely stems from how he’s about to prove all of his “haters” wrong.

Instead, you focus on opening your mouth wide to stick out your tongue. You lean in and slowly lick a line up the side of his face from his jawline up to his cheekbone where you stop. With the flat of your tongue pressed to his skin, your eyes move to the camera — the exact same pose as the photo from the previous night.

Only this time your tongue is swiping up Narumi’s face instead of the side of a bright red, cherry-flavored popsicle.

Narumi takes another few seconds to adjust the phone, making sure that the sunlight reflects perfectly off the shining trail of saliva on his skin, before you hear the camera’s shutter. You lean back as he begins to examine the photo and wipe away the worst of your spit from his cheek with your thumb.

“Good enough?” The question is perfunctory. Even if he tells you no, that one picture is all he’s getting.

“Fucking perf—” you shove your spit-covered thumb into his mouth before he can finish speaking. You refuse to hear those same words from him twice in less than 24 hours.

You’ve trained him well, because he doesn’t object to being cut off nor to the manner in which you’ve cut him off as he dutifully swirls his tongue around the digit. Once he’s cleaned it, you reach out to the phone and switch it to video.

“One for them, one for us,” you tell him before hitting record.

He holds the phone steady as you sit up on your knees and lean over him, directing him to look up at you. His jaw instinctively drops, leaving his mouth wide open for you. You purse your lips and let your spit drip straight down into his eagerly-awaiting mouth.

You savor the dark look in his eyes and know what it means — that he’s already planning on returning the favor when he gets another chance. Your thighs can’t help but clench together to ease the ache already forming between them.

But his phone continues to record and you know what the video requires of you. You lick your smirking lips clean, enjoying the way his eyes dart down to follow your tongue as it sweeps out to do so.

“Swallow,” you order him and he’s quick to close his mouth and obey, opening up wide once he’s done to show that he’s done as told. “Good boy.”

You then turn your smirk to the camera, giving it a long look before hitting the button to stop recording. You take his phone from him and immediately send the video to yourself, not wanting to take any chance of it being lost.

As you sit back down properly on the bench, Narumi tosses an arm over your shoulder and leans into you. You shiver when he drops his chin right where your neck meets your shoulder, a weak spot that he’s always more than willing to exploit.

“You gonna sit on my face later?” he asks, his voice rough. You nod, your thighs instinctively clenching on their own as you go through his phone, opening Twitter and ignoring his account’s notifications as you start to draft a new Tweet. “Good. Can’t wait to spit right on your pussy. But I bet you’ll be so wet you won’t even be able to tell I did.”

You’re used to the level of filth from him and normally you wouldn’t bat an eye. You’re far from some blushing virgin — the photos and videos on both of your phones can attest to that.

But something about hearing those words spoken so lowly into your ear as you upload the picture of you licking his face to his Twitter account has you biting back a soft moan.

As soon as you hit “Tweet” and share the picture for the rest of the world to see, he rewards you by licking a stripe up your cheek in turn.

If it weren’t for the way his phone begins to buzz with a barrage of new notifications only seconds after posting the picture, you would climb on top of him and make him eat you out right then and there on the base’s rooftop terrace.

Instead, you let him savor what he believes is his win for a few more moments before setting his phone down on the bench next to you. And then, before he can stop you, you pull out the hammer from your pocket and swing it down hard to meet his phone screen.

You’ve never heard a more beautiful sound than the shattering of glass mixed with Narumi’s shrill scream of horror.

It makes it more than worth the email marked urgent that you receive the next morning from the Head of the Defense Force’s PR Department demanding a meeting with the both of you.

[ouiouimochi]

Masterlist

list of fics I've written so far for easier navigation

Mashle

Abyss Razor

Happy Birthday Abyss ( Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 )

Rayne Ames

Rayne, Rayne (Part 1 • Part 2 )

Kaiju No 8

Various/multiple/general

Well dressed for the occasion (multi part fic)

Never too early to celebrate the holidays!

Soshiro Hoshina

imagine mini series ft. tumblr writer! reader

(he discovers you write about him)

(what's it like to date him)

(suggestive, nsfw route (in progress)

high

headcanons

once upon a dream

o' sweetheart (nsfw)

Gen Narumi

touch-move

Tokyo Debunker

Jiro Kirisaki

we should kiss

Solo Leveling

Sung Jinwoo

imagine he was a host in a host club

catching up with him at your bar

list of other posts

Mashle

Lemon Irvine

prompt idea "she likes a boy"

Kaldo Gehenna

female Kaldo fanart

Rayne Ames

sleeping with bunnies fanart

Kaiju No 8

General

reader insert idea

Soshiro Hoshina

he can use a gun chat

fanart/sketch

female hoshina fanart

hoshina gyatt

Gen Narumi

narumi meme

hoehoehoe and hbd

Tokyo Debunker

first ramble

jin ramen ramble

jiro ramble

To Be Hero X

General

episode 4

Lin ling / The Commoner

thought and edit