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#narumi gen
oldmama · 2 months
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Kaiju n8 anime visual key
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pfpanimes · 1 year
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⌕ kaiju no. 8 • gen narumi.
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mangostarjam · 1 month
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sore loser — kaiju no. 8, narumi gen x f!reader, "babe" as a petname, established relationship, suggestive, smut adjacent? aka they don't actually do it but they sure get naked, 1.5k words
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"Are you still pouting about this?" you try to catch your boyfriend's eyes in the mirror, but he avoids your gaze and slumps further into the couch.
You roll your eyes. Narumi Gen ignores you, fingers flying over his phone screen, looking annoyingly handsome in his formal dress uniform even though he's rumpling it to high hell on the couch. You debate for a second about warning him of wrinkles and then go back to putting your earrings in.
"I would've won, you know."
"Sure, Narumi-kun, but the fact remains that you didn't."
He tosses his phone aside. That, more than anything, makes you pause. Your attention-seeking boyfriend abandoning his daily ego surf? This must be serious. "I'm your boyfriend, right?"
"… Yes?"
Gen's gaze snaps to yours in the mirror as he gasps dramatically. "Hey! Why'd you hesitate, huh?"
"Because it was a stupid question." You adjust the straps of your dress and smirk to yourself as his gaze drifts lower. The setting sun is golden and hazy as it spills into his bedroom, sending shadows stretching across the floor and catching along the mess scattered underfoot. You've long given up on trying to keep it tidy, merely shoving half-opened packages aside until there are clear enough pathways to the bathroom and door and his futon.
To be fair to Gen, since you've started dating his mess has gotten substantially less… messy. That might be because the first time you stepped on something while fumbling in the dark for the bathroom, you had threatened to never sleep over again and to scatter Lego blocks all over his floor when he'd least expect it.
You have a feeling the Lego blocks were what sealed the deal.
"Baaaaabe," your boyfriend whines, hopping over to you and grabbing your hands. He shoots you a pitiful look from under his bangs, though it doesn't really work when he's taller than you and keeps shooting glances down your dress. "Why're you kicking me while I'm down? Don't I deserve a pick me up?"
"That sounds like a you problem," you snort. "Besides, we're going to be late."
"As Captain of the First Division, shouldn't I get to choose what counts as 'late'?"
You squeeze his hands, smiling reluctantly at his declaration. He's so silly sometimes. "I don't want Hasegawa-san walking in on us again, okay?"
Gen's smirk spells trouble. He leans down a little until your noses brush. His sudden proximity makes your breath catch in your throat as his body heat seeps into your bare skin. "Oh? And what would he be walking in on, hm?"
"Just a little something to make you feel better after losing to Captain Ashiro today," you smile sweetly, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He chases your lips as you settle back on your heels, hands spanning your waist and pinning you against the mirror as he kisses you again.
It's so easy kissing Gen. His lips are soft but his kisses are bruising, all-encompassing and hot, a drumbeat beneath your skin. His lips move against yours like he's passing along secrets, messages that can only be transferred through his tongue licking into the depths of your mouth, and you find yourself clinging to his broad shoulders and wrinkling the fabric there even more.
"I like these earrings on you," he breathes, his hand smoothing up your back to flick one of the dangling strands. His other hand drifts lower and you squeak when he gives your ass a squeeze. "And this dress. You sure we've gotta go to this stuffy shindig?"
You fiddle with the button of his formal dress jacket as you pretend to think about it.
Gen tilts his head up so you can secure the high collar, waiting somewhat impatiently for your answer. You drag your fingers along his cheek, passing lightly over the bags under his eyes. He works hard, your captain, even if he acts like an idiot most of the time. "You'll be missed if we don't," you point out.
"Can't I eat you out first?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Gen!" you laugh, but your thighs clench as heat pools in your core. "Absolutely not. Even if Captain Ashiro kicked your ass in long distance shooting, you still need to show up to the ceremony! Besides, what about all your other titles? Don't you want to stand up there and show off your awards?"
"Nah, who cares about that stuff, anyway?"
You eye your boyfriend's pout. What a fucking lie. "Is this because of the bet?"
Gen doesn't look at you, but his hands settle on your hips. "No."
"I never would've thought the First Division Captain would be a sore loser."
"I'm not a loser," he shoots back immediately, "I'm the best. And all of those guys know it, too!"
You hum in what could be considered agreement, except there's a glint in your eye that makes Gen frown. He knew what he was getting into when he first asked you out — you, the newest engineer trained specially in Numbers weapons, well known throughout Japan for devising ways to lessen the strain on compatible users. You had come to the First Division to tweak Numbers Weapon One and and only stayed to make it your home base after Gen finally got you to date him.
And even after dating you for so long — after learning your likes and dislikes and the little quirks he associates with you — you still manage to keep him on his toes. You're easily his longest lasting and most serious relationship, and he has a feeling he's going to give you the rest of his life, too, because nobody else has ever come close to making him feel the way you do.
"It won't be that bad," you brush his hair out of his eyes and smile when he leans into the touch. "I'm sure Vice Captain Hoshina won't gloat that much, since we all knew you'd lose to Captain Ashiro. And you'll probably still look hot with your hair dyed another color."
"What — of course I'd still be hot but — wait, how did you know that?"
You raise an eyebrow. "I have my sources."
Gen's eyes narrow as he searches your face. "Don't tell me… you're still friends with that bowl cut bastard?!"
"I've known him for longer than I've known you, you know."
"Yeah, but you're my girlfriend!" Gen's fingers tighten around your waist, but it's not uncomfortable. He's always surprisingly careful with you, and the gesture warms your heart even as your brow twitches with annoyance.
"Don't be stupid," you tug a little harshly on his ear and smirk when he yelps in surprise. "He's letting me choose what color you'll dye your hair, but I'm not letting you have an opinion about it unless you can guess the color of my panties tonight."
Gen's eyes gleam in the mirror's reflected sunset and his lips curl into a smirk that tells you he's forgotten about protesting your friendship with the Third Division Vice Captain. "Do I get a hint?"
"You already got one earlier," you say primly, grabbing his hands and bringing them to his own hips. "Now hands to yourself, loverboy. We've got an awards ceremony to attend."
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It isn't until much, much later that evening — once you're back in his room and he's shed his formal dress uniform jacket and shirt — that you take pity on him. He'd made guesses all night, whispering random colors and patterns in your ear between speeches, making you giggle into your sparkling cider while he watched with a grin on his face.
"Do you give up yet?" you ask, reaching for his belt buckle and leaning up for another deep kiss. Gen groans into your mouth, pressing you back into his futon as you arch up into him. His hand is hot against the soft plush of your thigh, a stark contrast to the silky fabric he's slowly drawing upwards.
"White with pink peaches," he mumbles, smiling into the kiss when you laugh.
"I don't even have a pair like that, Gen," you remind him. His hand pauses halfway up your thigh and skips up to your waist, the fabric bunching as he pulls you into him. Your legs fall apart to let him settle between them, but your dress is still blocking his view.
"I'll get you a pair like that," he says roughly, nipping at your neck just to hear you moan. "I'll get you all of 'em. You'll look hot as hell."
You've managed to shove his pants and briefs halfway off his hips and he quickly kicks them the rest of the way off, so the wet tip of his hard cock smears along the inside of your thigh as he settles. You hold your breath as he shifts, blinking slowly when his cock catches along your wet slit and he stills.
Gen's eyes are wide. You can't help but grin up at him as his jaw works.
"Isn't that cheating?" he huffs.
"I hope you don't mind rainbow colored hair."
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izfaish · 3 months
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drew these for the kn8 server!
kn8 fanfics featured above:
Confessions on Autopilot by dogbane_pomegranate @natarillus (ihareno)
Naturally by Phixion (ihareno)
resonance by sieling_fan (ennoshitoes) (naruhoshi, narumi & kikoru)
one more dance with you by bluejelly245 @jelliefeesh (naruhoshi)
are we falling (like snow) by stealthestars (naruhoshi)
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narumi-gens · 1 year
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Never Felt a Feeling Like This
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Narumi Gen x f!Reader
summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)
notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.
words: 6.3k
part of the Agents of Chaos series
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment
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As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 
All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 
The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 
With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 
Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 
“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 
But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.
“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”
Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.
“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 
He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 
Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?
But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.
You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 
It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 
Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.
You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 
“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”
But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 
“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 
You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 
“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 
Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.
The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 
Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 
There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 
The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”
With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.
You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 
“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 
But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 
You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 
When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 
“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”
“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 
“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 
However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 
His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 
The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 
Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 
The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.
His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 
Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 
With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.
He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.
And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 
His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.
What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 
Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 
It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.
But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.
He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.
It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 
He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 
“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 
Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.
You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 
The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 
His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 
He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 
And he also notices that it twitched upward. 
For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.
However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 
His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 
Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 
Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.
All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.
What would you look like in just your lab coat?
His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 
And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.
He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 
The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 
You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 
Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 
When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 
“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.
His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.
“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 
You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.
“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 
“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.
“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”
Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 
“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”
He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 
You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.
There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 
A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.
Simple as that.
Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.
Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.
“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 
As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.
He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 
But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.
He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.
The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.
“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 
“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.
“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 
Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  
“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 
But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 
“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 
Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 
“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 
Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 
“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!
Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.
He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.
He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.
He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 
As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 
With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 
Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 
But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.
His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.
From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏
He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis
He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 
From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪
He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱
Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.
From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 
From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏
From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️
From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫
His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝
It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏
He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 
The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 
Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 
Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 
His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 
He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 
When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 
Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 
What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.
And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 
Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?
He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 
He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  
After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 
He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.
He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 
He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 
And you would, wouldn’t you?
Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 
You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 
And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 
Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 
His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 
As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 
His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 
He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 
However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 
His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO
That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 
When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.
After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.
“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.
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he-cate · 9 months
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commandernarumi · 8 days
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i love how narumi’s whole character is like
yes he’s the commander of the most elite defence force in the country yes he’s practically also the strongest human in japan. but does that stop him from being a spoiled wet cat brat who needs to be put in place occasionally? absolutely not
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jelliefeesh · 9 months
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it’s a cute boba date until Narumi sucks up a boba pearl and starts gagging🧋
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bokutizer · 1 year
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➵ NARUMI GEN
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summary : Narumi Gen's life has its highs and its lows, but he's glad that he does not have to deal with the latter ones on his own (he would never admit that though). tags : exes to lovers (?), fem!reader, fluff, angst, something between comfort and reverse comfort?, mentions of blood, spoilers for chapters 53/54 a/n : I can't believe how much fun I had writing for him. He's such a versatile character AND A GODDAMN BABY <;33
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It was not an unusual occurrence to find the commander of the first division of the Defense Force huddled up in his messy and dump-like bedroom. Yet the palpable melancholy in the light deprived room was rare. It was nothing new, considering that his job brought many sacrifices and losses with it, but still. It was rare.
Narumi was lying on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, changed into a white shirt with a faded Gundom imprint on it and his usual black sweatpants. Besides the few scratches along his jaw, nothing would have made you guess that this man had been on the battle field and had lost his mentor a few hours prior.
Yet here he was, barely acknowledging your presence as you finally closed the door behind you and, with slow and quiet steps, strode over to his bed. Between the various cushions and blankets on his bed, you could also spot the controller of his BS5 which lay beside his limp hand, even though the TV was clearly turned off, its screen pitch black. You wondered if he had really been able to muster some strength to game or if the abandoned controller was just another sign of defeat. Defeat because he had neither physical nor mental strength left to distract himself.
"What are you doing here?" despite the low volume of his raspy voice, his words managed to resonate through the quiet room, his face still facing the ceiling, his eyes covered by his multicoloured bangs.
"I've heard what happened to Mr. Isao." you spoke quietly, carefully choosing your words because you knew Narumi all too well. If it were for him, he would think that your presence was a mere sign of pity, a sign of his defeat, of his failure.
That's why the next time he spoke, his words were louder, harsher even. The tension in his body was clearly visible, tendons along his throat straining and jaw clenching. "Why. Are you here?"
You remained quiet and instead of snapping back, simply decided to take a seat on the edge of his bed. It was not noticeable to the naked eye, but Narumi relaxed, even if it was for only a tiniest bit. Somehow the air around him seemed less suffocating, now.
But as your hand slowly inched closer to his forehead, not being able to fight against your desire to just touch him even if it was for a short moment, one of his arms flew up, his hand grasping your wrist in a tight grip. "Narumi, I brought eye drops. Doctor said you overused them quite a bit." you said matter-of-factly, no softness coating your words, your expression emotionless as your eyes finally locked with his. They were bloodshot, red veins weaving themselves over his sclera, while the blueish rings beneath them seemed to have taken on an even darker shade than usual.
The hold on your wrist loosened, a wordless invitation for you to do whatever you had intended to do. Because, yeah, you knew Narumi but the same went the other way around. And if he knew one thing about you, then it was that you were stubborn as hell.
You motioned him do lie back down and soon after that his head hit the softness of his pillow, black and silver strands of hair sprawled over its pillowcase. How long has it been since the last time he had felt the tenderness of your hands? Three? Four months? It has definitely been long enough for him to feel like a terminally ill man who finally seemed to get his salvation.
The gentless with which your fingers combed his bangs out of his face, how they delicately rested along his eyes, not putting too much pressure around the irritated area as you pressed the prescribed amount of droplets out of the little tube. Narumi swore it was not the medication that soothed the uncomfortable itch in his eyes but rather just the simple sight of you.
However, he was aware that letting himself get used to this, to you, would be a fatal mistake.
"That’s enough." he muttered, slapping your hands away as if they could burn him. "Don’t need a damn nurse."
You sighed as you watched him turn on his side, his back facing you. This could have been your cue to simply leave him alone, let him shoulder this burden on his own, but you could not. And you knew that it was selfish because you were obviously not only staying because of Narumi. You were staying because the thought of him being alone right now would hurt you incredibly hard.
"How are you feeling?"
"'M fine. I've also been fine before. The bleeding's stopped. Now go."
"You know that’s not what I meant."
You flinched at the sight of his upper body swiftly shooting up, his bangs falling back into their place and hiding the frown etched on his face. "Why do you care? Huh? I couldn't do anything. Couldn’t save him. So why do you-"
"Because I care about you, Gen. You, not the first division commander." you cut him off, your own composure slowly crumbling as you felt your eyes sting. "Because I know that you liked Isao a lot."
Narumi's chest heaved heavily and he wondered if, in midst of the silence that reigned in the room, you could hear the rapid pounding of his heart, a result of all the anger, sorrow and relief that he felt currently. Anger towards himself, sorrow because that was simply something you felt when you lost someone, and relief because- because of you? He was not sure but that seemed to be the only plausible explanation.
The breathy chuckle vibrating in his chest seemed rather anguished as he flopped back down on his back, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. "You've missed me that badly, huh?" he derided, yet proceeded to scooch over a tiniest bit. Another silent invitation for you.
"You wish." the string of tension hanging between you two seemed to diminish, especially once your head lay beside his, two pairs of eyes now hyperfixating the grey ceiling as if it was the most engrossing thing you've ever witnessed.
"How did the evacuation go?" Narumi asked reluctantly after a beat of slience but received only a light jerk of your shoulders, one of them brushing against his. "That many deaths?"
He had already been looking at you as you turned your head to look into an ocean of red, your own eyes glazing over at the images of all the bodies your troop and you had recovered today from beneath all the ruins and debris that had remained after the destruction of so many buildings. "Way too many."
The reason Narumi's body felt rigid now was not tension, but rather hesitancy. It was just a small gesture of comfort, right? It would not hurt? Maybe a bit ironic since you were the one who had appeared in his room to comfort him, but who was he to give a shit? Warmth creeped through the skin of your palm as you felt him wrap his hand around yours until his fingers weaved themselves through the crevices of your own cold ones.
"Missed me that badly, huh?" you repeated his words, the light crack in your voice, however, drowning the lightheartedness in your words. The fake overly exaggerated laugh emanating from him nearly pulled a smile at your lips, the knot in your chest loosening a tad bit.
"You're insufferable." Narumi muttered defeatedly, the light squeeze you felt around your hand feeling like anything but annoyance or loathing.
"Right. That's why you broke up with me, remember?"
His eyes widened momentarily at your statement. The reason he had broken up with you? Many things annoyed Narumi Gen. Headlines of Ashiro Mina in the news, Hasegawa when he dragged him to unnecessary meetings, people who were only talks without any real actions and strength behind their words- You had never been part of any of these things.
The only thing that had scared him away from you was he himself. He feared all the things that you made him feel; the love that you made him feel for you. He feared becoming too attached and the possibility that your death would not leave him indifferent. For God's sake, neither of you had simple nine to five jobs. Every single day you left your cabins in your suits, you instantly signed a contract that granted you a meeting with Death himself.
But as Narumi noticed your breaths becoming deeper and steadier, his free hand brushing a single strand of your soft hair behind your ear, he realized that life without you was one of the many things that annoyed him. He realized that not having you at all was worse than the constant risk of loosing you, and for once, he was glad that many people had a rather bad image of him. Because he also realized that being selfish had never felt better than now.
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delta2024 · 2 months
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oldmama · 13 days
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tameshrimp · 2 years
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✤ NARUMI GEN ✤
for @omiyours
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lia-snow · 1 year
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Thingy I only shared on Twitter a while back.
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izfaish · 4 months
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in another life 💛
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narumi-gens · 1 year
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Keep Me Up
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Narumi Gen x f!Reader
summary: Narumi has become such a loud and chaotic presence in your life that any semblance of silence is now deafening.
warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of smut (but barely), surprising lack of chaos for the kn8!chaos couple, the softer side of the kn8!chaos couple, kaiju no. 8 spoilers
words: 1.7k
part of the Agents of Chaos series
minors and ageless blogs dni
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You never have trouble sleeping — ever. It doesn’t matter if it’s loud or if it’s bright. It doesn’t matter if you’re on the floor or sprawled on your workstation. You can sleep anytime, anywhere. 
Except for now, it would seem. 
Because now, every time you close your eyes, all you can see are data points and technical specs and message after message from everyone and their fucking mothers asking for an update on the synchronizations of both the No. 1 and No. 4 suits.
Compartmentalizing has always come easy for you — too easy for you if Hasegawa and the other members of the First Division have anything to say about it. But for some reason, tonight, your mind won’t stop racing. 
You may be in bed, Narumi wrapped tightly around you from behind and sleeping soundly away, but you feel like you’re still in the Operation Room, hunched over the monitor at your console with your fingers flying across the keyboard. 
As you mindlessly watch the tower fan standing only a few feet away from the bed as it oscillates back and forth, it starts to sink in why you’re having such a hard time shutting off your brain. 
It’s the silence that’s making you so restless.
The base is quieter than normal, which you hope isn’t some sort of omen. But more than that, it’s Narumi’s silence that has you feeling anxious. 
You’ve grown so used to sleeping in his office, tucked alongside him in his futon as he plays whatever game has his rapt attention, that just sleeping in your shared bed is always enough to throw you just a little off-kilter. But even in bed, you’ll usually be lulled to sleep by the sounds of him playing on his handheld or his mutterings about whatever troll he’s decided to pick a fight with in his mentions. 
So, his silence now is almost oppressive. 
Although you can hear him breathing deeply in his sleep near your ear, it’s nothing compared to the usual racket that you’ve grown so accustomed to. And it’s setting you on edge. 
Without his usual noise, it feels like he’s not there. 
You try to ground yourself by focusing on the feeling of Narumi’s arm wrapped tightly around your middle and his chest rising and falling against your back. 
He’s here. He’s with you. He’s alive. 
With each attempt to convince yourself, you find that you’re unconsciously trying to burrow deeper into his hold. He must feel you in his sleep because his arm around you pulls you closer and he nuzzles his face against your neck. 
You’re suddenly overcome with the urge to look at him, to see that he’s there. It takes some work with how tightly he’s clinging onto you, but you eventually manage to turn over and put just enough room between you so that you can take him in fully.
A small frown forms on your lips when you don’t find the immediate sense of relief that you were looking for. Because despite being able to physically see that Narumi is with you, it’s not enough. 
It’s not only his stillness that’s bothering you. It’s also the clear exhaustion that looks so out of place on his features. 
He’s looked tired before, usually after back-to-back all-nighters that are fueled by energy drinks and the need to clear whatever mission he’s playing. But this is a different kind of tired. This is the kind that you saw after Director Shinomiya’s death. 
It’s the kind that reminds you that Narumi Gen, for all of his strength and ego and brilliance in battle, is just a man. And men can be killed.
And you absolutely hate it.
Your hand moves on its own as it carefully comes up to his face so that your fingers can gently brush against his cheek. He’s so warm and normally you would complain — loudly — because it’s hard to sleep with a human furnace wrapped around you. But now it’s a comfort because it’s proof that he’s still alive.
His face begins to twitch and you realize that your touch must be so light that it’s gently tickling him but you can’t bring yourself to stop tracing his cheek and jaw. When his eyelids slowly start to flutter open, you feel a rush of guilt knowing how hard he’s been training and how much he needs sleep. But your fingers keep moving. 
It takes a few minutes but eventually he’s returning your gaze with tired eyes. Your fingers trail up the side of his face to reach for his bangs and carefully brush them out of his face, revealing the slight wrinkle of confusion on his forehead. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and rough with sleep. 
“Nothing,” you assure him with a weak smile and a small shake of your head. “Can’t sleep.”
You can see a hint of concern peeking through his exhaustion. He pulls you closer, erasing the few inches that you had put between you, and rests his forehead against yours. 
“Wanna fuck? You’ll have to do all the work though.”
You can’t help the soft snort that escapes you at both his offer and his caveat. You do genuinely consider it. Nothing could pull you from the spiral that you were in like a good orgasm. 
It would be easy to push him on his back and ride him until the post-climax endorphins were rushing through your bloodstream and lulling you to sleep. Or you could swallow his cock until it was hitting the back of your throat and just stay there until he was tugging on your hair and pleading with you to move. 
The mental image conjured up by both scenarios threatens to spark an ignition deep in the pit of your stomach. But the deep bags that you can see under his eyes are like a cold bucket of water to any trace of arousal in you. 
“No. It’s just too quiet,” you murmur as you slowly swipe your thumb underneath one of his eyes — the eyes crafted from Kaiju No. 1. 
The extreme toll of using a numbered weapon is something you’re more than familiar with. It’s hard not to be in your line of work. But it isn’t often that you’re confronted face-to-face with the evidence. 
Narumi has had the No. 1 eyes for years. How much of his life had already been cut short? And now he’s training with the No. 1 suit. How much more of his life would that take off?
What would you do when all you have left is deafening silence? 
Everything that you’re thinking must be written across your face because Narumi starts to look more awake than he had been just moments ago. For as careless and thoughtless and inconsiderate as he is during most waking hours, there are some things that will just never miss his notice.
Your quiet distress seems to be one of them. 
Without warning, Narumi rolls over with you in his arms so that he’s on his back and you’re sprawled across his chest. 
“Gen, I said I’m fine not fucking,” you complain as he manhandles you, because honestly, you don’t really want to do all the work either. Why should he get to be the pillow princess tonight? 
But he just ignores your complaint, adjusting you until he has you right where wants you — with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest, and one of your legs threaded through his. Your arm instinctively wraps around his waist as you cling to the thin fabric of his shirt. 
When you lift your head up to look at him at him with a pout, he just guides you back down to his chest with a tired hand, leaving it on the back of your head to keep you there. 
“You hear that?” he asks, and you can feel the vibration of his words in his chest but you know that’s not what he’s talking about. Because with the side of your head pressed right over his left side, you can hear his heart beating loudly, clearly, and steadily in your ear. 
You nod and his hand drifts away from keeping your head in place to skim down your arm until he can take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together and giving them an affectionate squeeze. 
“Enough noise for you?” The question rumbles through his chest again and you give another nod. “Good. Now go to sleep. I’ve gotta train my dumb disciple tomorrow and you’ve gotta show everyone why you’re the Head of Operations for the Defense Force’s strongest division.”
The complement has a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. But it’s tempered slightly by the words you can feel on the tip of your tongue and you’re glad that Narumi won’t be able to see the vulnerability in your expression when you speak them. 
“Hey, Gen?” you whisper and he hums in acknowledgment. “Don’t die on me, okay?”
There’s a sudden tension that you can feel in his body, his hold on you growing just a little tighter. You’re not sure if it’s from the request or from your boldness in daring to make it. 
The silence stretches on as he struggles to find an answer. You know that if you looked up at him, you would find him staring up at the ceiling. But instead, you keep your head right where it is, pressed right against his chest and his beating heart — the proof that he’s alive.
“Only punk ass bitches die, right?” he finally replies and the question has a grin stretching wide across your face.
“Yeah,” you easily agree.
“And you don’t fuck punk ass bitches, do you?” he asks and an unexpected bubble of laughter bursts out of you.
The words are familiar. You can still taste how they felt on your lips despite it having been months since you spoke them to the rest of the First Division when the system in Narumi’s suit monitoring his vitals had malfunctioned, causing them to suddenly flatline. 
“No, I don’t,” you smile as you nuzzle closer to him. 
“Well, there’s your answer.”
It’s easy to fall asleep after that, with his heartbeat lulling you to sleep along with the deep rise and fall of his chest with every breath and him holding you tight — all proof that he’s here, that he’s with you, that he’s alive. 
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he-cate · 5 months
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Kaiju no. 8 - Vol. 11 cover
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