public transport
arataka reigen x fem!reader
half of it is edited, at least. this has been sitting in my drafts, half done, since march. im sick of working on it, so you get this. sorgy
The sudden jerk of the train starting takes you by surprise, and you nearly fall down — had it not been for the fact that someone gripped your upper arms tightly before your face could connect with the cold, hard floor.
You look up quickly, your face heating when you realize who it is.
★ ★ ★
The familiar "whoosh" of the bus's old doors opening greets you warmly as you step inside, unsurprised to find almost all seats — save for one — vacant. Late nights are always lonely — it's always dark, empty, quiet — but today, there's another person on the bus with you.
He... Looks like the guy you saw on TV some time ago, though in a more... Tired state. Messy blonde hair, unbuttoned grey suit, loose pink tie — he's sitting in the back-most seat, his eyes, heavy with fatigue, transfixed on the window.
He didn't noice you come in.
You stand at the door for a little while, adjusting the bag on your shoulders before coming to a realization that sours your expression. That's your usual seat. He took it.
You scowl, making your way to the window seat a few meters away from him and sitting down with as much annoyance that you can muster.
You can hear the sound of the bus's wheels squeak every time they'd go over a bump, shaking the whole vehicle; smell the sour scent of sweat stained clothes from a long day of work; practically taste the citrus cleaning spray the cleaners use too much on the cloth seat covers.
The bus's doors creak closed. The vehicle abruptly jerks forward, a start, before its motion becomes steady. You settle into your seat, adjusting yourself until you're comfortable, feeling the worn fabric beneath your fingertips as you steady yourself.
As the bus picks up speed, you find your gaze drawn to the man.
His features are... Sharp, though not so much as to look intimidating; his eyes are half-moons as they stare longingly out the window, not taking in the view, more like just... Staring blankly; his breathing — visible from the rise and fall of his chest — is slow and steady, calm; and his nose is pointed, low, coming to a point just above those soft, kissable lips...
...
...Drat.
You clear your throat as if it'll clear your mind. Curse your tiredness, making your thoughts... Inappropriate.
You shift your bag in your lap, trying to distract yourself with the way the strap falls, the feeling of the stitching on the edges.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man turn his head to face you. His eyes roam down your body before dragging themselves back up to your face, and, noticing your irate expression (due to the fact that he took YOUR seat), he raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side.
He looks at you curiously, scanning your features as the bus bounces up and down when the wheels go over the bumpy road.
He seems to pause, almost hesitate.
"Good to know I'm not the only one with late nights," he says, a grin playing on his lips.
God, his voice...!
"Same here," you mumble, keeping your eyes set on the window to avoid looking into his.
You both slip onto a comfortable silence again, all quiet except for the sound of the bus moving along the tar road, making those distinct noises you've almost memorized.
You can sort of ignore him now, focusing only on the view outside.
It's... Peaceful. At this time of night, there are little people on the streets — those who are still awake are the drunkards, stumbling back to their homes; and the office workers, their gaits slow and steady, tired from the long day of work.
The shops are all closed, and though shutters are pulled down, the colourful lights of their signs remain on; blues, reds, and whites paint the sidewalk a kaleidoscope of colours, one you've never noticed until now. Your eyes roam from the colourful concrete to the signs whizzing past the bus in a blur, your eyes struggling to read the letters.
"What's your name, by the way?"
You're brought out of your thoughts at his question. His voice is strangely soft, his tone understandably wary as you turn your head to face him.
You introduce yourself, and he nods. He tests your name out on his tongue, humming in delight — as though he just tasted something sweet.
"Arataka Reigen, greatest psychic of the 21st century!"
His introduction is over the top, his voice like a salesman's as he spins his hand — so fast that's it's all a blur — before he abruptly stops, bringing it up for you to shake. He flashes you a charming grin, one that makes your cheeks flush.
You take his hand, savouring the feeling of his worn fingers wrapping around yours as he shakes it.
And, leaning in close enough to smell the sharp cologne his wears and said in a low whisper, "But you can call me Arataka."
Arataka leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest in pride as he grins at your flushed cheeks.
"It's the first time I'm seeing another soul at this time of night," he remarks, tightening his tie absentmindedly, almost like an unconscious fidget of sorts. You nod in response. You watch as his fingers wrap around the pink fabric of his tie slowly, getting a better grip before pulling it close to his neck, adjusting it to make sure it's not too tight.
You clear your throat again, averting your gaze.
"I'm... Honestly surprised to find another person coming home from work this late," you parrot, gritting your teeth as you focus on the window. Stop staring, stop staring...
He hums in amusement before it's quiet once more, broken only by the sounds of the bus's engine working to keep the vehicle moving.
It stays like this for a while. Both your gazes are fixed on the window, staring at the buildings passing by in a watercolour blur.
The city is... Nicer? You can't tell whether it's because you have a handsome man sitting across from you, or because it really does look prettier, but all the lights seem... Dreamier than usual, all the tree's leaves a few shades greener.
You can't help but notice his eyes flicker to yours every few minutes, though you never manage to see it directly.
"The city's quite pretty tonight," You mumble to yourself, staring out the window as you adjust yourself in your seat.
Arataka's next words are barely audible, just above a whisper — and his voice is quiet enough for you to be sure that you weren't supposed to hear it, like he was just saying something to himself.
"Sort of like you."
Your heart skips a beat.
"What did you say?"
Your tone is curious as your gaze settles on him again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes sparkling with the lights outside the window.
You can visibly see him get nervous: he breaks out into a sweat, his shoulders stiffening as he brings up the sleeve of his jacket to dry the beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead, his tone rushed and panicked.
"A-ah, hahaa—! What? I didn't say anything!"
You can hear the nervous grin on his face as he avoids your gaze, clearing his throat loudly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You must've been hearing things! Those pesky spirits..."
Arataka clicks his tongue, scowling at the empty space above your shoulder for a moment before changing his expression to a neutral one again, bringing his eyes back to yours. The speed at which he gains and loses confidence is enough to give you whiplash — not that you mind, though.
"I can get rid of them for you," he says, with total confidence. He's grinning proudly, almost puffing his chest out a little.
It's... Endearing, if you can say that.
You pause, arching a brow at him in confusion.
"Get... Rid of...?"
Have you never heard of psychics before...?
He nods briskly, pointing a thumb at himself in pride. His mannerisms and movements are precise and swift, enough to get you to think he's done this kind of thing hundreds of times in the past.
"You're talking to a world renowned psychic, here."
...There's a beat of silence, save for the sound of the bus going over a bump.
"World... Renowned?" You parrot, your tone confused. You've... Never heard of this man in your life, this... Arataka Reigen.
He pauses for a moment, his jaw going slack and his hand falling a little before he quickly closes his mouth, his expression almost like he's laughing in disbelief.
"A-ah, yes, yes, world renowned! I'm known all across the globe! Surely you know my name?"
He sounds a little bit like he's in disbelief, though his voice remains prideful.
You raise your brow higher. He's egotistical, to put it lightly. Egotistical, but so, so handsome...
"I've... Never heard of you before," you say to him, watching in amusement as you wait for his reaction.
"Oh, come on!"
Arataka's voice is now definitely one of disbelief as he groans in exasperation, his voice and expression growing irate.
Surely you've seen his posters...? He told Mob to paste them on any empty surface.
"Never? Not even once?" He almost begs, nearly pleading, a note of desperation creeping into his words as he tries in vain to convince you of something you've already set your mind on.
...Which is to poke fun at him, of course.
You hum in thought, your gaze flickering to the window before bringing it back to meet his. There was one time — a rather embarrassing moment for him, in your opinion.
"...Well, there was this one time I saw him on TV..."
He's quick to cut you off.
"Oh, why— y-yes! Yes, no, no, you haven't heard of me, especially not on TV! No, nope! Never!"
His grin is too wide to be genuine; panicked, and his hands are all over the place — almost as though he's talking with them, too, as he gestures wildly. You can see the sweat droplets fly off his hands, in addition to seeing the light reflected off of them on his forehead.
You look on in amusement.
"I-I'm just your friendly neighbourhood psychic, providing exorcisms at competitive prices! Never been on TV, no sir-ee!"
He's sweating buckets now, his grin thin as he goes on and on and on. He just... Talks, and the only time he pauses in his speech is to take in a greedy mouthful of air before getting right back to his words, coming out of his mouth faster than you can understand them.
And though it is rather cute funny to see him act like this, you decide that it's about time you changed the topic and spare him the embarrassment.
...And it's at this moment exactly that the bus reaches your destination, and you need to get off.
You pause for a moment, double-checking the sign to be sure that it's your street. You're more than a little disappointed to be parting ways with this strange, handsome psychic, this Arataka Reigen.
"Uh... Bye, I guess," you say in mild disappointment. You give him a small smile as you sling your bag over your shoulders, sitting up from your seat.
You're leaving already...? He only just met you, though...
As you make your way to the door, you run your hands along the bus's seats, feeling the fabric beneath your fingertips. It's a sort of a... Habit, now, to touch the seats before you exit, like how you'd run your fingers over a bridge's railing. It delays you a few seconds.
...Wait. It's probably best to give you his card, y'know, for his number and the address of his office...
You're halfway to the bus's doors before Arataka stops you, calling your name, rifling through his suit's pockets and producing a sharp, white business card.
"My business card, for the exorcism I promised you."
He grins, jabbing the card in your face. Taking a moment to compute what he's doing, you quickly take it from him, thanking him. He nods in reply, bidding you 'bye-bye' in a quick, hasty voice once more as he waves you off the bus.
You stare at the card as you step out of the bus, making your way to the little flat you call home.
Arataka Reigen.
Your eyes trail down to the bottom, where you see a phone number.
His phone number.
Arataka's phone number.
★ ★ ★
All week, you stress. Should you call him? This... Mysterious, handsome psychic? What if he doesn't want to talk to you? What if he really did just give you his business card for business?
...The way his cheeks flushed when your hands brushed against each other tells a different story, though...
You're fidgeting with his card in your hands when you enter the train, finding that it's full with people coming home from work, as usual. It's just after sunset — the sun has only just dipped below the horizon, the last traces of its golden light fading as the pinks turn to blues, the blues turning to black.
You look back down to the card in your hands, still not having moved from far the train's doors, open wide.
Arataka Reigen.
Your fingers wrap around the frigid metal off the handle bar by the train's doors, though your grip isn't strong, still lost in your thoughts. You really, really wanna call him, but what if he really did give you his business card only for business? He didn't seem to really... Do anything special, nor did he say anything special. He just treated you like a normal client, it seems.
You're still thinking about how adorable his pink cheeks were, though...
The sudden jerk of the train starting takes you by surprise, and you nearly fall down — had it not been for the fact that someone gripped your upper arms tightly before your face could connect with the cold, hard floor.
You look up quickly, your face heating when you realize who it is.
Arataka.
He says your name in a disbelieving, breathless manner, his eyes wide and his expression awestruck for a moment before coming back to his senses. He startles, letting go of you in the blink of an eye as he lets out a yelp, his cheeks flushed a sweet pink as you feel yours heat in tandem.
He remembers your name.
Arataka remembers your name.
"We meet again," Arataka says awkwardly, the both of you standing in the middle of the train. It's a little hard to keep his voice steady and quiet, but he manages.
That well tailored grey suit of his is neat and ironed, his pink tie tightened and tied properly close to his neck. He looks... Good. Better than on the bus, at least.
You nod, trying to calm down your racing heart.
"...Arataka. This is a... Pleasant surprise."
...And just like that, it's awkward silence again.
At least it's not totally quiet though: there's the rumbling of the train car moving along on its metal rails, the rapid beating of your heart in your ears, your shallow breathing as you try to calm yourself down in vain...
Your eyes trail to the window, watching as the train emerges from the dark tunnel, getting bathed in the lights of the city's night life. There's the faint smell of disinfectant and sweaty clothes in the air.
It's when you almost fall over again that you finally decide to take a seat. Arataka follows suit, taking the seat beside you, seeing as all the other seats are taken.
He's awkward as he settles down in his seat, his side pressed up against yours. He looks either... Embarrassed, or ecstatic, since you're that girl he saw on the bus the other day, the one who made his cheeks flush and his heart beat wildly in his chest. You're that girl he'd given his business card to, the one that he's been waiting so, so patiently for to call, even so little as text him.
After a while, the two of you get comfortable against each other; the warmth of his body brings some sense of comfort to you, and the same to him. You... Fit, there, right by his side. He likes that.
Your eyes are trained on the window; the buildings are whizzing past the train, the yellows and oranges of the city lights blending together to form a pretty little painting. It seems so... Fantastical, and so... Unreal. You've never really paid any attention to the scenery...
The little cars on the roads are but small strokes of a brush on a canvas, their blacks and greys mixing in with the dull colours of the asphalt. There's people on the streets, since it's not too late in the night yet; they're all smoking, partying, drinking, having a good time... Because, after all, it is a Friday night.
...And you're alone.
God, you're pathetic.
You scowl slightly, settling into your seat, your side shifting against Arataka.
Though you don't notice it, Arataka's eyes aren't on the view outside the glass. He's looking at you, studying you, watching as your eyes dart from person to person walking along on the pavement, watching as you shift your bag on your lap to get more comfortable. His eyes are fixed on you as he roams his gaze up and down your body, using his eyes to trace the outline of your comfortable clothing and sighing, almost dreamily so.
You're really pretty.
...It stays like this for a while. Neither of you say anything to eachother, though both your minds are plagued by the other.
You find yourself fidgeting with anything you can — the cloth straps of your bag, the thin strands of your hair, the knuckles of your fingers. It's hard to keep your thoughts from going haywire when Arataka's body is pressed against yours, especially when it's almost quiet enough for him to hear your racing heart.
He, too, is freaking out — his heart is threatening to burst from his chest, his mind reeling so much to the point where it's starting to hurt. The only difference is that he hides it well, and you're... Well, you're not as experienced. And he's definitely noticed.
As he stares at you, Arataka calls your name softly, absentmindedly, and his heart almost stops when your eyes connect with his.
They seem so... So sparkly, so big and wide, taking in everything. They reflect the environment; Arataka can see himself in them as he gathers his thoughts quickly, clearing his throat loudly.
It's hard to form words around you, especially words that aren't 'kiss me', you know that?
"So how've you been?" He asks smoothly, ending his question with your name.
You hum.
"...Good. You?"
Arataka nods, his posture relaxed in relation to yours. He shifts against you, almost leaning against you, and your heart skips a beat.
"Great, yeah."
He begins to gesture with his hands again, something that you've missed seeing a lot more than you'd think you would — especially considering the fact that the only time you've met him is on a bus, late at night, the both of you definitely not thinking straight under the influence of sleep deprivation.
"So how's that spirit of yours holding up? Gotten it rid of already?"
He gestures to your shoulder, his expression neutral as he analyses the empty air. He definitely notices that you haven't done anything about this supposed spirit haunting you.
So you stay quiet for a while, unsure of whether to lie and keep him in this emotional state or tell him the truth and make it worse.
"I, uh... Haven't done anything yet."
...
"You WHAT?!"
The passengers in the train all shush him in unison, and Arataka mumbles a quick 'sorry' before leaning in close to you, shielding his voice from the outside with a hand, almost like children telling each other secrets. It's just an excuse to get closer to you, to be completely honest.
You can barely focus on what he's saying, your cheeks a bright red as you feel his breath ghost over your skin.
"You HAVE to do something about it, I mean—"
He makes small gestures to the space above your shoulder, trying his best not to upset the people beside him. He fails, evident in the way they scowl at him and take a few steps away.
"This thing is dangerous!"
You sigh, leaning a little away from him as you feel the red in your cheeks fade.
"It hasn't done anything, though."
"Hasn't done anything YET," he cuts you off, hissing in a whisper. "You could've DIED!"
He gets shushed again. He sighs in annoyance, leaning away from you and talking in a calmer, quieter voice. He's smooth with it; his words come out naturally, almost instinctually — it doesn't sound like he's been desperate to say those words ever since he met you, and it doesn't sound like he's begging you to say yes.
"How 'bout this, hm? I'm heading to my office right now for a late night job. Why don't you come and I'll get rid of this—" he scowls, swatting the space above your shoulder again —"horrid spirit of yours?"
You pause. It's a... Very, very tempting offer. On one hand, you want to go back home and rest; while on the other, you want to follow this handsome, blonde psychic and see how he'll 'exorcise' this supposed spirit of yours.
You decide quickly, just as a light rain begins to patter on the glass windows.
"Sure, alright," you say, giving him a slight smile. Arataka nods in response, smiling at you, before his gaze trails to the windows where the rain gets heavier and heavier the closer you get to Arataka's office.
"SEE?!" Again, he's shushed.
"This is the work of the spirit!" He says, gesturing to the heavy rain that's now beating aggressively on the window in an unpredictable drumbeat. The people on the streets panic and try to get to shelter, whilst others bring out umbrellas.
You're quiet for a while.
"The... Rain?"
He nods briskly, seriously.
"Spirits can influence things, you see. They range from small events like how hot you heat up your bento, to this," he says grimly, gesturing to the thunder and lightning that has started to strike the ground in bright white flashes across cutting across the grey sky.
"The bigger the event, the more powerful the spirit. And," he says, leaning back more in his seat and crossing his arms, "this is a crazy powerful spirit. It's unwise to leave it alone for so long. It's reacting in this way because we mentioned its existence."
"Oh, okay, that... Right, that makes a lot of sense," you agree slowly, nodding in response to his words. Arataka knows a lot about spirits, it seems.
He grins in triumph, just as the train announces its location and its doors slide open. He gets up, gesturing for you to follow.
"It's just a 15 minute walk," he assures you.
When you get out of the train station, you find that it's still raining heavily. There's that smell of rain, which is nice, and you get lightly showered with the cold droplets as they bounce up and off the pavement and road.
Arataka scowls, groaning under his breath as he takes out a pocket umbrella, clicking it open.
"We'll have to share. It's small because it's meant for one person."
He gestures for you to get under the umbrella. It's... Close. You're very close to him, just like in the train, though, this time, your bodies are only almost touching. The two of you have to shuffle on the ground a little to walk.
As you begin walking, you find yourself walking closer and closer until you're touching sides. Arataka doesn't seem to argue; in fact, he wordlessly slides a tentative hand around your waist, holding you tight to him as the crystal droplets of rain pitter-patter loudly against the tiny clear plastic umbrella he holds. His grip grows more confident and firm the longer his hand is there.
It's quiet when the both of you stop at a crossing, waiting for the cars to clear and the light to turn to the little man, indicating you can walk.
Then a particularly fast car comes along. It's definitely speeding, and when it nears the large puddle of water near the sidewalk, Arataka smoothly pushes you back, bringing the umbrella up to shield you, and only you, from the dirty water.
The dirty rain water splashes at his pants and the droplets from the sky pelt him, causing him to wince slightly. It makes his golden hair to stick to his forehead, makes his expensive grey suit soaked at the shoulders, makes his sleeves dripping wet.
Before you know it, he brings the umbrella up again, and begins walking again without a word. His hand finds itself back to it's position, holding you securely around your waist.
"Thanks," you say. He pauses, turning to look at you.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?! THE RAIN'S TOO LOUD!"
You mutter a quick apology before repeating your thanks, this time shouting. His bewildered expression disappears, smiling cutely as he nods, before he continues walking.
The both of you continue in a comfortable silence for another minute or so before you reach the office. He leads you inside, shaking off the umbrella. The office smells... Really salty, coupled with the expensive scents of some kinds of incense you can't make out.
"Here we are!" He exclaims proudly. "Ah, oh, right. This is my apprentice, Mob."
Arataka places a firm hand on the shoulder of what looks to be a middle schooler with a bowl cut. He waves at you politely, smiling slightly, and you nod in response, waving back.
Arataka unbuttons his jacket and hangs it on the wall, and you have to clench your fists tightly to stop yourself from staring.
"Now," Arataka says smoothly, taking a seat in his chair and looking so, so attractive, "what package shall you take?"
He pulls out a piece of paper, with three courses labelled.
"Option A, the trial course, gets you 20% spirit reduction; option B, the serious course, which gets you 50% spi—"
Mob leans in to whisper something into his ear, and Arataka seems to be taken aback for a moment. He scoffs, hissing in a whisper, "Of COURSE there's a spirit, you just can't see it," which Mob seems to be placated by, going back to his spot reading manga.
Arataka clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak again.
"As I was saying," he glares at Mob, "Option A, the trial course, gets you 20% spirit reduction; option B, the serious course, which gets you 50% spirit reduction; and option C, the all-out course, gets you 99% spirit reduction." He gestures for you to take the seat in front of the desk.
"Of course," he says, grinning just like the hideous poster on the wall, "if it comes back, I'll get rid of it — for 20% off."
Sitting down, you bring the paper close to you...
...And find that every course is above your budget.
You smile nervously, pushing the paper back to him and getting up from your chair. This has clearly been a complete waste of time, especially since it all seems so sketchy, and you've only fallen for it because he's handsome...
"S... Sorry, Arataka," you apologise, bowing slightly once you've gotten up from your chair. "I can't really afford anything."
You move to the door, and it's only a moment later that you hear Arataka scrambling to get out of that fancy office chair, his brow slick with sweat and his words rushing out of his mouth.
"Woah, woah, woah, hey, my success rates are 99.9%! All my clients leave happy!" He cries, a note of desperation in his voice.
You shake your head, smiling politely. "No thanks."
He panics again as you reach for the doorknob. Your movements are slow — so, so slow, and it's definitely apparent that you're just stalling, as if waiting to see if he'll do anything.
He takes advantage of that.
Half stumbling and half sliding in front of you and using his body to block the door, he stands, gathering himself for a moment before—
"H-hey, hey, wait—!"
Arataka grips your shoulders tightly, beginning to massage. You pause, silent, a little taken aback.
"Feels good, right?" He says quietly as you almost melt at his touch. He's standing directly in front of you, staring at— no, studying your face as he moves his fingers in firm, soothing circles. "Like it?"
Your shoulders are absolutely screwed up.
You hum, rolling your joints a little bit. Arataka feels a surge of pride when a chorus of the cracking of your messed up bones fill the air, though he still presses gentle, relieving circles and dots into your skin, pressing enough for you to feel it firmly below the clothing you wear.
His touch, though soft and caring, is... Firm. Very, very firm, very unyielding. It's clear that he knows what he's doing, and it's clear that he's confident that this will work. His fingers are round dots of alleviation as they press softly into your skin, and their movements and placements are careful and calculative.
He grips your shoulders, dragging you slowly, slowly, slowly to the chair in the middle of the room and sitting you down on it.
Now that you're seated, Arataka feels your neck and shoulders a little. He goes round and round your little chair, pressing at this spot and that spot — he's looking for something, it's clear; he's looking for tightness or rigidity beneath your skin, places to apply pressure, places to soothe and fix.
You barely notice how his hands seem to almost lovingly caress you.
"Here?"
He bends down and shifts his hand a little closer to your neck, near that place that always aches when you look down — the base of the movement and the base of the neck itself. You sigh in delight, leaning into his touch — sending waves of butterflies and pride swelling in Arataka. His heart nearly bursts out of his chest as he sees you get more and more relaxed, enjoying his touch. His cheeks flush and a dopey grin adorns his face.
He hums, pressing more firmly and confidently.
It's about a minute later when Arataka retracts his hands almost reluctantly, his fingers lingering on you. You roll your neck and shoulders, sitting up and off the chair.
"I must say, Arataka," you say, shoving him slightly as a sort of playful gesture. His cheeks flush at the contact, a cute little grin on his face.
"That was a great massage."
His grin grows prideful, jabbing a thumb at himself proudly.
"You're talking to the greatest psychic of the 21st century, here!"
You sigh, almost dreamily so, as Arataka begins to go on and on and on about all his achievements, his accomplishments, his goals...
...
You pause. You have to pay — you can't just get caught up in his silly little endearing antics again.
"Um, Arataka?"
You interrupt him as he's talking proudly about himself, and he stares at you, a little confused and a little annoyed. He doesn't really care if it's you, though.
You gesture to the paper on the desk, the one with all the courses and prices. Your tone is regretful; you shouldn't have fallen so easily for such a blatant scam, c'mon, you're smarter than this...
"I can't pay. I didn't bring enough money."
Arataka pauses. Gears seem to turn in his head for a moment before his eyes light up, another one of those adorable horrible grins settling on his face again.
"Tell you what."
He tries to lean on the wall, finds that it's too far, and stumbles instead. He clears his throat, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
"Instead of paying, how about you..."
His grin widens as he pauses for dramatic effect. You wait patiently.
He's not actually pausing for dramatic effect, though; he's trying to get time to prepare what his tone will be, how his body language will look, how loud and confident his voice is...
It's a really, really long pause.
"...Go on a date with me?"
A date? With him? Mob's just sitting on the little couch in the corner of the room when he looks up from his manga, intrigued by the word 'date'.
Great. Now you've got a 14-year-old's pressure on your back.
You hum for a moment, thinking, as though your answer will be anything but a resounding yes. Your cheeks are flushed, but so are his once he hears what you say in response.
"Yes, please."
His grin widens in absolute joy, and he puts his hands harshly, securely in his pockets to prevent himself from grabbing you by the collar and sloppily kissing you right now.
He opens and closes his mouth to speak multiple times before he decides on what to say. He looks so, so happy — his eyes are wide and full of wonder, his grin is big and silly, and his cheeks are that same sweet pink as on the bus.
"Saturday? Saturday, 8:00 PM?"
You nod.
And waving goodbye as you open the door to leave, "I'll see you on Saturday."
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A/N ::: 😳. Iiiii ... Ok. So I'm never this creative to think of such things like ... oh, idk. Kafka likes to roleplay with his girl - kinda fucked up things. Like, being a little rough in bed. Both ways - roughing and being roughed up. Idk. I just totally see him being the best fucking husbando/boyfriendo ever. Sorry Draken, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, oh god, and Baji. ANYWAY. Yeah. This Kafka stuff just keeps oozing from my fingers and I'm in no hurry to stop. I hope you guys enjoy this!
C/W ::: Roleplay (on the rougher side - not violent, per se - but not like petting a kitten either ... no pun intended), unprotected P->V, hands-on stuff, a little tossing of the other person around but like I said, I don't think it's like, too too rough. You've read this far, heed the warning if you think this won't be for you =). That's why we put them here!
WC ::: Under 1,200 (I'm coming back around, you guys!!)
MDNI UNDER THE CUT PLEASE, THANK YOU.
You bite your bottom lip as Kafka growls against your skin. His words and his tone are harsh, but his touch … it’s painfully soft. The slight pressure of his mouth, the rasp of his tongue against the sensitive skin of your neck. It makes your stomach flutter, and your eyes roll back.
He breathes heavily against you as he moves his mouth lower, to your shoulder, then down, across your collarbone and back up again.
"You're sending me really, really mixed signals here, Kafka. You're mouth is literally saying one thing while your body does another."
"You don't say," he says.
"I do say."
He huffs and lifts his head to look you in the eyes, his own dark, pupils blown wide. "What do you want me to say?" he says, his voice low, rough. "That I like you?
"I mean, yeah. That would be nice. But maybe a little consistency first?"
"I like you," he says, "But I also hate you. So I don't know. What should I do?"
You try to shimmy away from him but his grip just tightens and there's no way you can get out of his arms.
He leans in, his breath tickling your ear and you shiver. "Do you want me to let you go?" he whispers.
"What I want is ..." You sigh, "What I want," you say slowly, "Is for you to get over yourself." You take a deep breath. "I know that you want me, at the very least. Why are you being so gentle and rough with me at the same time?"
He huffs. "It's complicated," he says. "I like you. I do. And .... But ..."
"But what?" You ask.
"But nothing. It's not important."
He looks down again at your body pressed into the mattress. His hands sliding down your shoulders to your elbows.
You try to wiggle your wrist free from his large hand. You want to grab him by the chin and make him look you in the eye, but he still has an unreasonably tight grip on you.
He glances at you through his lashes, his mouth curled into a devious smirk. "You want something, little one?"
You shout, "That's it! That's it! I've had enough of your patronizing. You're gonna get it now, Kafka."
You can feel your temperature rise and your willpower falter. Mustering every tiny little ounce of strength you have in your much smaller body you flip him over so he's on his back. Though you have a feeling that he went willingly. You don't care though. You're just happy that the tables have turned - in your favor, too.
For now, anyway.
You squat over him on the bed and straddle his torso, placing your knees on either side of his ears, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest.
He laughs at you and asks why you're not putting your full weight down on him. "You think you're gonna hurt me, you little fly."
You see him smile at you, a sharp-toothed grin. "Come on," he says, "You're not going to hurt me. I want you to give it your best shot, though. G'head."
You lean forward, putting your full weight on him and he laughs. "Oh-hoh, now you've done it," he says. "You should not have done that."
The laughter stops and his eyes narrow as you press your hand to his cheek, running your thumb across his bottom lip. He leans forward, trying to bite at your fingers and you pull your hand away, making him growl again. This time in frustration, you’re sure of it.
You place your hand on his throat, pushing him back down onto the bed.
"Enough," you say, your voice low, barely more than a whisper. "It's time to stop playing around."
His eyes widen as you lean in, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes, his mouth opening under yours.
His tongue brushes against your lips, and you open for him, your own tongue meeting his.
You can taste the sweetness of his mouth, and the taste makes you hungry for more. You press closer, your teeth clicking together as you try to deepen the kiss.
Kafka wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as you continue to kiss. You feel his cock harden against your thigh and you moan.
You press your hips down, rubbing against him, his cock sliding against your pussy through the thin black lace of your underwear.
You break the kiss, panting, your body is on fire.
Kafka groans as you begin to rock your hips, grinding your pussy harder yet against his cock.
"Fuck," he whispers, his eyes glazed over, his lips swollen from your kiss.
You reach between you, grabbing his cock, squeezing it tightly as you stroke it, your hand sliding up and down his shaft.
"Do you want me?" you ask, leaning in, your lips brushing against his.
"Yes," he says, his voice rough, his breathing ragged. "Fuck yes."
"Then," you say, kissing him deeply. "take me, Kafka."
An animalistic sound escapes his throat as he flips you over onto your back, his body pressing you down into the bed.
You moan as he pushes his cock inside you, stretching you open. He fills you completely, his cock buried to the hilt in your pussy.
He begins to move, his thrusts slow and steady as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of you. Your walls squeeze him tightly.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you rock your hips, meeting his offerings.
You look up at him, face flushed.
He looks down at you, his expressions are intense, but he never shifts his focus. His movements become harder, faster. Almost desperate in his attempt to navigate this fare.
You gasp as you feel him hit just the right spot, making your vision blur. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him as your orgasm hits you like a surprise wave. Despite knowing full well what the outcome of this would be, the result never ceases to amaze you.
He never ceases to amaze you.
Kafka groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. As he fucks you through your orgasm, he approaches his own.
He slams his cock into you one last time, his body going rigid as he begins to cum, his cock pulsing heavily as he fills you with all he's got.
You cling to him, your bodies pressed together, your heart racing as you both come down from the almost violent release of energy.
Kafka rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.
"You are amazing," he whispers. "Absolutely … fucking ... amazing."
You smile and kiss him softly, your fingers stroking his cheek. "I almost believed you for a minute there, Kaf. Your growly voice is super sexy, but my god. I thought you were a little pissed for a second. Let's do this again. Soon, mm?"
You lift his chin to take stock of his face and you know you'll never tire of seeing his kind eyes looking back at you. "Hey, I love you, you know."
You can't see it, but you're pretty sure he's blushing. The heat radiating from his face against your shoulder washed up like a sunrise; It was slow, but you felt every little prickle of warmth overtake everything it touched.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.
"I love you too," he whispers. "You know I do. You know I'll never stop, yeah?"
You smile and close your eyes, letting the near total darkness of the room wrap you both up in a blanket of promises.
@southside-otaku @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo
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Fluff alphabet for Nikolai? You’re one of the few who write for him and he’s my favorite character! Thank you so much!!
Hey there! Really? There aren't many people who write for him? That's such a shame, he's literally such a cool character and I adore him so much! Also, sorry I wrote this relatively late, but life got inbetween! But I wrote it now!
Fluff Alphabet for Nikolai
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
If it was up to him, then you’d be spending most of your days at home, within the safety of your walls. However, he loves doing whatever it is you love. You wanna go on a hike? You wanna have a boxing match with him? You wanna start a book club? Everything is game for him as long as you’re down for it, or make the suggestion. He is the adaptable sort of person who can do just about anything, especially if he gets to spend time with you and make you happy.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
The fact that you can stay with someone like him. Nikolai can be a very cocky man, he doesn’t particularly hide his occasional cruelty either. Sure, he is calm and collected as well, but he could see why you would want to leave him for someone more “proper”. You could likely get anyone in the world, and yet you decide to stay with him? He, who has killed the guilty and innocent alike? Who makes fun of the police whenever he can? It takes a special kind of crazy to want to be with someone like that. He can appreciate that.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
Since one of his abilities is that he can stay calm under any circumstance, he would likely calmly talk to you, try to talk some sense into you as well. His voice can be rather calm too when he wants it to be. He’ll be your voice of reason while getting you away from whatever may be upsetting you, shielding you from onlookers. When you’re sad he’ll offer some advice, or maybe some distraction, whichever you say you need more at the moment. His advice is actually pretty solid too, he’s been through a lot and isn’t the youngest anymore either.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He has a small country house in the middle of nowhere in Russia, and he’d love living there with you. No more soldier or mercenary business, just you and him living together there, disturbed by no one aside from the occasional bird chirping here and there. He’d chop the wood while you make him a lovely pie. It doesn’t need to be fancy, as long as he gets to spend his future with you, winding down from all the adrenaline he gets on a regular basis, he’s happy.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Surprisingly, he tends to be more passive in the relationship. Though, he could go either way, but normally he just goes along with whatever it is you want. Sure, he can and will flirt with you occasionally, and if you’re on the more passive side then he’ll take charge, but other than that he just goes with the flow and lets you decide. If you can’t decide for whatever reason, then he will. But whatever makes you happiest he’ll do.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
He would never raise his voice at you. It’s very hard to anger him in general, he usually believes he’s in the right anyway, which he usually is. He’s calm and collected at all times, but will be more factual with everything when he’s starting to get annoyed with you. However, he easily forgives, regardless of whether you apologize or not. Your relationship isn’t so weak that something like this should make it falter.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
Generally speaking, he knows what is and isn’t a given, and he knows to appreciate the things that aren’t. So yeah, he’s a pretty grateful man, even if it doesn’t seem like he’d show it very often. Nikolai knows that you cleaning the house from top to bottom, you cooking him a meal and giving him all the love he deserves and so much more isn’t a given, so he likes to show his gratitude through the small things, such as making sure to take in every new detail about you and always complimenting you, getting you the occasional gift as well. Something small but meaningful.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
He runs a PMC, so naturally there are things he can’t tell you about. However, he does believe that secrecy kills a relationship. If it’s something he can talk about, he will. Although he won’t go into detail about how he tortured that man, he will give you constructive criticism on how you can improve your knitting. He’s not one for lying, you deserve to know just about everything. Isn’t the most open about his past, though.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
I think Nikolai changed the most during his youth, so likely long before he met you. By the time you met he had already become who he is today. I don’t think anyone or anything could change him that significantly anymore, unless something truly terrible happened. He knows to take care of himself. However, I feel as though he could have become a bit kinder as a result of meeting you.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
He has faith in you to not leave him. Sure, he gets his spurts of jealousy, but he’s an adult, he doesn’t really act on it all that much. The only thing he really does when he’s jealous is talk over the other person to try and get your attention. He deals with it by either walking away from the situation or trying to get you away from the other person if he can. Again, he trusts you to not stray from him.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
He’s an attractive man, he likely had his fair share of lovers throughout his life, meaning he’s kissed plenty of times. When he was younger, he wasn’t a very good kisser, but he learned to adapt to the likes and dislikes of people. He could likely satisfy just about anyone with a few kisses these days. However, your first kiss with him would have beena a gentle one. He loved you even back then and was afraid of intimidating you. It was short, it was gentle, it was sweet.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
It wouldn’t be anything too fancy. He’d get you flowers, some chocolate or other sweets you like and invite you to a lake or something. And then he’d confess his feelings to you in a casual manner and ask you if you want to be with him. If you had said no then he would have made the offer of staying friends, at the very least.
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
On the one hand, he does want to get married, on the other he doesn’t want to subject you to all the danger he’s usually part of. I think it would take him an eternity to propose and then it would be something simple as well. He’d test the waters by asking you if you want to marry him first, the ring comes later. Not much changes when you’re married to him. It still feels rather casual, but there’s always the fact you’re bound by your vows now. He’ll make it his goal to relive his honeymoon with you by going on a vacation with you every once in a while.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
Милый/милая (my dear, darling), Любимый/любимая (loved one) and Солнышко (sunshine) are his go to. He’s not overly creative, but he sometimes also calls you by the names of cute little animals. Again, he’s more casual when it comes to things like this. More often than not, he calls you by your name. However, he’s not above using terms of endearment in your native language as well. He knows eight languages, and if yours isn’t among them then he’ll simply learn it.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
It’s not obvious at all when he’s in love. Sure, he likes to spend more time with you, but he won’t prioritize you when he’s busy. Sometimes he’ll give you an expensive gift. Knowing fully well you’ll want to repay him, he’ll simply ask for your company and that you’ll pay for the coffee on your little date. He knows how to get what he wants, and if he wants a small outing with you then he’ll get it. He doesn’t express his feelings freely at first, but he’ll call and text you more often to check up on you. That’s about it, he has his feelings in check otherwise.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
He doesn’t really brag about his relationship. He only really mentions you here and there in front of his closest friends. The entire world doesn’t need to know about you, so he keeps you to himself for the most part. However, he doesn’t really mind PDA all that much. Sure, he won’t really initiate it, but if you really wanna kiss him, then you can just go for it. Same if you just wanna cuddle up to him under his jacket. He doesn’t really mind that sort of thing.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
The fact that he can stay cool under any circumstance. Even when you’re out to get on his nerves like no other he can stay almost completely neutral. It’s really hard to piss him off, and even then he thinks more rationally than he normally would. He really doesn’t let his emotions get the better of him when he’s in a negative situation. You’ll never have him yell at you, only tell you facts. He can also argue for you in case someone is being mean to you.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
He’s not really a romantic at heart. Sure, there’s the occasional gesture. He’ll gift you plushies, he’ll take you on a walk where you can watch the sunrise together, he’ll also cuddle you on the couch. However, he will also train you, he will take you to his shooting range, you will be sparring with him from time to time. Although it may not seem like much, that’s also another “romantic” aspect of his. He wants you to be able to defend yourself in an emergency, so he’ll make all of it seem more romantic than it really is. Will take you out for dinner, though. He can make some really mean pirozhki.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
Naturally. He’s been through so much, he likely has some piece of advice for just about any situation. And even when he can’t give you any advice, he can help you out by either listening to your woes or by paying for whatever it is you need. He’ll always be there for you. Nikolai is a very loyal man once you’ve gotten on his good side. He would never let anyone he’s close with down, be it a friend or a lover. You can bet he’ll do just about anything for you.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
It entirely depends on what you want. He can honestly go either way. Sure, he might not want to spice his love life up by committing a murder with you every day, even if he could, but maybe going on a vacation every once in a while would be nice. While he may be down to try almost everything at least once, he doesn’t mind staying stagnant in that regard either. It’s really up to you. However, he will make you eat certain new foods he thinks you might like. He’s a great cook, his meals are always top notch.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
He’s not a very empathetic person. Sure, he can usually tell what someone is thinking, but that doesn’t mean he cares enough about most people to feel what they’re feeling. Even in a relationship he isn’t the most emphatic person, he barely has any empathy for anyone. However, he can easily take notice of even the smallest of changes in your behavior and act accordingly. To him, life is more logical than anything else, not so much emotional. So he will act in accordance with the signs you give him and do whatever he has learned works for you. Either that or he will listen to his intuition. His intuition is great.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
His relationship with you is on par with the friendship he has with Price and Laswell. He knows that you can’t live off of love and air your entire life, so he keeps close contact with both of them as well. While you could not bribe him out of the relationship if you tried, he does sometimes think about cutting ties with you to keep you safe. He wouldn’t go through with it, but he does value a lot of things in life. Any relationship is important to him, whether it be romantic or platonic. So yeah, you wanting him to cut ties with Price or Laswell would immediately raise a red flag with him. He wouldn’t give up either of them either, please understand that.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
He runs so very hot. Out of all the main characters, he has the highest body temperature. Nikolai is very comfortable to cuddle with in winter. He doesn’t mind cuddling with you either, if that’s what you want. But just so you know, he’s a tall man and could likely wrap himself around you almost entirely. He’s also very strong, so he could make you feel very protected as well. That’s one of his favorite things to do, making you feel safe and secure. The more you melt into him, the more you trust him to protect you, the better. He’s a nightmare to cuddle with in summer, though.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
On his own accord he’s kind of like a cat. He prefers to watch you and be in the same room as you to show affection. Once he’s figured out your style of affection, he’ll act in accordance to that. You wanna cuddle? Sure. You wanna be together in the same room? Naturally. You wanna be mushy together and exchange loving words? Yeah, he can do that too, even if he isn’t the most emotional person. Generally speaking, he likes kissing and cuddling, but he doesn’t need to be all over you all the time. The occasional kiss and cuddle is alright, but too much skin contact has the potential to annoy him.
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Since he knows that being distracted on the battlefield could lead to him never seeing you again, he tends to not think about you. However, once he has some downtime he likes to replay some of the moments he shared with you. The time you accidentally hurt yourself breaking a mug as he patched you up or when you fell asleep in his arms, he thinks about those moments more often than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t really keep a memento of you, you’re not even on his phone’s background, but he remembers you well. Your smiles, your tears, the way you’d hug him so tightly when he’d come home. He just thinks about you and those thoughts lull him to sleep.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he has killed for you several times already. To answer the question, yes. He’s killed for you, he’s broken the law several times for you. He runs his own PMC, he could technically go to war for you as well. And he would if someone were to take you away from him. He could likely destroy a small nation for you. While he won’t do it if you ask him to, if someone were to kidnap you, he would not hesitate to fight for you. Your safety is a priority of his, so he will do what he can to make sure you’re by his side, forever and always.
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