Work Text:
“You’re late.”
It’s the first thing you say to him after eagerly flinging open the front door, two contradictory actions that further prove how pathetically you’d been waiting around for him. You’d planned to act upset, but the apologetic look on his handsome, angular features, and the rare sight of him dressed in casual clothes rather than uniform softened your heart enough to immediately forgive his tardiness. It wasn’t as if you stood a chance in the first place. The smiley vice-captain of the Third could do no wrong by you.
He carried a brown paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers beneath his arm that he brandished like a sword at you. Already, he was leaning in, toeing himself into your shabby apartment to shut the door behind him. The sooner he was shielded from the omniscient eyes of God and gossipers, the better. Though you were certain his place—maybe the government had even assigned him a whole penthouse suite, who knows—must be nicer than your sad four walled bachelor flat, it was much more low-profile to meet at your home rather than his.
“Sorry. Had to lose a tail.”
The door had barely closed before you kissed him, the wrapper on the flowers crinkling noisily between your bodies as you pressed your chest against his. It was rare for the Vice-Captain to take a day off, much less for him to text you first, as casual as ever—as if he hadn’t been ghosting you for the past four weeks. It was hard for you to be prideful when you were constantly thinking about somebody who always had more important things to deal with than you. Somehow, that made you more determined to make yourself unforgettable, since you knew that every chance might be your last with him.
If you had it your way, you and Hoshina wouldn’t have to ration your meetings to rare midnight trysts like this. But he was an important, foundational leader of the Force, and you were merely one of many faceless white-coats holed up in Izumo Tech’s R&D labs. You still didn’t have enough experience or the prodigal genius to lead your own project, so for the past few years, you’d merely been slaving away as a grunt. Better a grunt analyzing otherworldly Kaiju specimens in order to develop and optimize anti-Kaiju weaponry than a grunt staring at regular boring slides, but still. You didn’t think of yourself as very impressive. You threw yourself into your work because it was the only meaningful thing you’d done with your existence. You were especially nothing like Hoshina, a man proudly titled ‘The Defense Force's Strongest Close-Quarters Combatant’. It honestly surprised you that you were still an option on his roster, given that he must be seeing plenty of other women who were prettier or more successful than you. Perhaps even both. Somebody like Hoshina could have anybody he wanted, but he still paid some of his precious attention to you of all people.
You’d met a few months ago. You knew almost everything there was to know about his specs, given the detailed work-up file on him that you had to memorize as a junior member of the aptly named Hoshina Weapons Development Team. Your entire purpose was to find a way to make his life easier in battle by improving the blade weaponry and adapting it to his physique. Izumo Tech worked almost hand-in-hand with the Defence Force, and so you saw a lot more of the mystical soldiers than regular civilians normally would.
Your new job in weapons was certainly a step up from writing lame reports on Kaiju shit. Somehow, you managed to catch Hoshina’s attention when he came in for routine testing one day. You’d even hit it off. You’d always been wary of the Defence Force soldiers, finding yourself intimidated by them regardless of if they were younger or older than you. It took a very specific type of person to fight against something as terrifying as Kaijus. Hoshina also intimidated you, but he was somehow able to make you feel at ease at the same time. He talked to you like you were a real person. As if you were equals, even if you didn’t believe that was true. Though you knew the cellular composition of Hoshina’s body down to the last sarcomere, you still didn’t know that much about him as a person, given his constant secrecy and evasiveness. At most, you knew surface level facts. You knew he enjoyed coffee, mont blanc desserts, and reading. You knew that he’d spent his entire life training to be where he was. You knew there was absolutely nothing on the planet that could change his mind about his dangerous position in the JAKDF.
Not even you.
You’d tried to accept and make peace with the fact that if you were to have him at all, it would only be in these short pockets in time. You’d have to turn each night into eternity. It wasn’t that you as an Izumo Tech employee couldn’t date a Defence Force soldier, but he couldn’t promise you a life together. He couldn’t promise anything, given the risky nature of his job. He had always been upfront about that; you couldn’t fault him for being dishonest. Yet, as painful for you as it was, you were still selfish enough to want even part of him over none of him. You shamelessly swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, urging him to deepen the embrace.
“Mmm,” he moaned into your mouth appreciatively, always surprisingly vocal with you. It stoked the fire that was already tightening the knot in your core. The flowers hit the floor carelessly as both of his hands gripped your hips, sliding up your shirt, stopping short at the lacey fabric of the thin lingerie bra you were wearing beneath your ratty pyjama shirt.
“Hm? What’s this?” he asked breathlessly, and you felt the smirk on his lips without even needing to see it. “Oh, you dirty girl.”
You constantly had to remind yourself of your place whenever he spoke to you like that. I am not special to him. You just offered a good time. He liked you for the stress relief. You pretended that was the only reason you liked him, too. It made the culling of your emotions—the ones that wanted more from him than just a quick fuck—a little bit easier.
Your thighs were already rubbing together of their own volition, desperately seeking friction, your panties hot between them as your fingers ran through his soft, violet toned hair. This is good enough, you reminded yourself sternly. This is just what it meant to be with him. Even if you did want for more, you’d never ask for it. Because wanting any more of him would be greedy, and you were too afraid to do anything that might scare him off for good. You were replaceable. He, however, was not.
“Just for you,” was all you whimpered back, hiding the spiralling depth of emotions and desire welling inside of your heart.
He pinched your perked nipples through the fabric, relishing in the way you shuddered against him, your knees already feeling weak. He walked you backwards before picking you up, encouraging you to wrap your thighs around him. His hands dug into your ass appreciatively as he kissed you while holding you and walking like it was nothing—he really was impressively strong despite the deceptively lean appearance. Not like you were any stranger to that fact. You felt a hardened bulge grind against yourself as you wrapped your legs around him—the slight brush of his tenting erection through his clothes against your clit made your stomach explode with fluttery butterflies. You had been so needy and desperate for his touch. No matter how hard you tried to replicate the experience in his absences, no sex toy—no other man—would ever compare to the way Hoshina fucked you.
“God, I missed you,” he murmured appreciatively. He’d laid you down in your bed, which you had neatly prepared ever since he texted you that he might swing by later in the evening on his day off. He eased your t-shirt off with a gentleness you didn’t quite associate with an elite soldier like him. It was almost as if he was afraid of hurting you. His fingertips were coarse, hands calloused by work and decades of swordsmanship. The rough texture against your soft, sensitive skin made you shiver. His eyes were wide open for once, scanning you as if to take you apart, his gaze obviously lingering where the lingerie accentuated your body. You felt self-conscious all of the sudden, embarrassed beneath his piercing stare, and pushed on his chest to urge him to move.
“Then you should come by more often.” Your fingers twitched on his cotton t-shirt, trying to pull him closer.
“Hmm,” he murmured non-committally, as if he hadn’t even heard what you said. As per usual, he brushed off your weak plea to dig deeper into the relationship. He slipped down, out of your grasp, kissing down your breastbone and stomach as he descended. He kissed your cunt through the lace, nipping at your swollen clit with his teeth. The over-stimulation made you yelp, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting to wake up to a noise complaint from your neighbours tomorrow. He edged the fabric aside before swiping his tongue up and down your pussy, the wetness and coolness making you shudder. Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, squeezing his ears, your fingers snapping down to clutch and pull at his hair as his tongue flicked over your clit. His long, strong fingers reached inside of you—one, then two—skillfully beckoning against your g-spot as he mercilessly sucked on your mound. He could read your body’s needs like he had a map to it. Nobody had ever made you feel this way before. You all but melted back into your bedsheets. It was a constant reminder of why you had never been able to break things off with him before it got this bad.
“Soshiro,” you keened out as quietly as you could manage, whimpering his given name with no honourific—the way a girlfriend might—another one of your desperate bids at intimacy. You pulled at his hair urgently. “Just like that… ugh, yes, gonna cum…!”
It never took long whenever you were with him. Within minutes of eating you out, an orgasm pulsed through you, your walls clenching down on his fingers. You held your breath so as not to moan out loud. The lack of air made your head spin. He kissed the inside of your thigh sloppily before you finally heard his belt buckle jangling, his clothes rustling urgently. Your mouth watered like Pavlov’s dog hearing a bell.
The cool rubber of the condom stuck to your thigh, still slick and sticky from how intensely you came just moments ago. You felt how hard he was against you as he rubbed himself up and down your cunt, lubricating himself with your own juiciness. For a moment, you wished he’d just take the condom off so that you could feel all of him—all of his length, his heat, inside of you. The thought of his engorged cock throbbing in your walls; his creamy, thick cum filling you from inside and out, drooling out of you, marking you with his scent from within every cell of your being… The fantasy always got you off. It was something you knew you could never ask him to do, because that kind of sex was reserved for committed couples who loved each other. Not for whatever this was between you two. A pang of guilt struck you for thinking of such debauched things when you were already a grown adult wasting your time on a dead-end fuckbuddy.
“Miss me that bad?” he taunted in a hoarse whisper, forcibly dragging you back to the present. You felt his tip prod but continue to teasingly slide just past the entrance of your weeping cunt.
“Yes,” you hissed back, pawing at his arms to silently plead that he just put it inside. You felt the head of his dick drag up your belly, past your navel, the tip resting on top of you to show him exactly how deep inside of you he’d be. Unable to help yourself, you whined petulantly, like a bratty kid being told they couldn’t have ice cream for breakfast. “Can you just fuck me properly already? Stop teasing me.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by your desperation. Reaching down, he watched intently as he thumbed your puffy, still-sensitive clit. Your back snapped into an arch as if you’d been demonically possessed.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he soothed. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Nn… Soshiro!” you complained, grinding yourself into his palm. It wasn’t enough. It felt like something was missing—like a part of you was just about to click back into place, but he was dangling it in front of your face.
You should’ve known better than to test a military man’s self-control or discipline. Somebody like Hoshina would easily be able to hike up his pants and walk out on you at the drop of a hat. Especially if—God forbid—a Kaiju were to suddenly breach the safe-zone. You were just a civilian, a regular-schmegular nobody who spent their sacred gift of life existing as an ambling NPC. If Hoshina were to die, the nation might genuinely fall. He was that important. If you died, you weren’t even sure if enough people would care to host a funeral for you. At most, your boss would be pissed that you didn’t submit your labs before kicking the bucket.
But none of that existential death talk right now. Hoshina was finally pushing himself into your eager hole. The sheer pleasure could only be described as a white-out—you lost coherence over all thoughts as your thighs trembled uselessly, strength dissipating, unable to keep themselves locked behind his waist. He wasn’t so large that it hurt, but his hard cock was just what you needed to settle against the other side of your throbbing bundle of nerves. Yes. He was perfect. This was what you’d been waiting for, what you’d been craving so badly. His right hand continued to rub figure-eights on your clit, fast and consistent, determined to bring you to another orgasm even though you were still reeling from the past few. The left pressed down on the soft rolls of your stomach, pushing his cockhead even deeper inside of you. The dual-stimulation had your eyes rolling back in your head. Your walls fluttered around him, unable to handle the sheer pleasure. You grabbed onto his shirt collar and yanked him down with all your strength, your teeth knocking against his as you moaned into his mouth helplessly, a poor attempt to muffle the lewd noises that he wrangled from your throat. He bit your bottom lip as he started to rock in and out of you, his incisors sharp enough to draw the metallic taste of blood into your mouth. It ached dully, your lip throbbing with the same hummingbird-fast beat as the rest of your body as your heart hammered in your chest.
“Oh—shit, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped frantically, feeling the taut knot in your body start to grow tenser and tenser. He barked out a quiet laugh.
“Yeah? I can tell, baby.”
The pet names were always so deceiving. It seemed too easy for him to say. He took his hands and threw your ankles over his shoulders, grabbing onto your thighs to find just enough purchase to somehow rut into you deeper still. The slight change of angle had your head flopping back into the pillows, burying you as Hoshina fucked you blind with so much power that you worried he’d fuck you right through your bedframe. (Again.)
“Cum in me!” you whined without really thinking about what you were saying. The promise of the exalted climax that’d break your spine and take you to ascension was right there, flashing behind your eyelids—your lips were moving without your brain now as you clutched onto his arms for dear life, your nails digging into his firm muscles. “Please just cum in me, cum in me, Soshiroooo!”
All of the sudden, he slowed down; you realized he was yanking his shirt over his head. Sweat beaded on his brow from exertion. He leaned over you, his plum-toned eyes blown out with lust. The motion brought him even deeper inside of you, making you clench up. You could almost see yourself reflected in his dinner-plate sized pupils, the wanton look nearly unrecognizable on your own face.
“Don’t look away,” he rasped all of the sudden, startling you. He almost never spoke, unless it was to say something dirty or ‘see ya!’. His fingers dug into your thighs with bruisingly painful strength, giving you just enough clarity of mind to listen to what he was saying. “Just keep looking at me like that.”
“Ugh, Soshi—” Your head fell back again and you squeezed your eyes shut in the effort it took to keep quiet. Hoshina surprised you by grabbing your face with his hand as he ground his hips into yours. The slow circles were almost too much to bear after the barrage of fast thrusts he’d just been treating you to. His fingers slipped into your half-open mouth. Without words, you understood, your tongue swirling around the fingertips of the hands that had saved countless lives. You tasted yourself on him, bittersweet. You thought about sucking him off, your tongue dancing on his skin; he shuddered, an oddly open display of his inner workings.
“Don’t look away, baby,” he reminded breathlessly, pressing his thumb on your tongue. You moaned past his fingers, lost in your own pleasure again, unable to notice how his eyes darkened and his body tensed.
“Wan’ you to cuh in ‘e,” you groaned, your lashes fluttering with the effort it took to keep your eyes open like he asked. He worked his jaw, even chewing on his lip with something like hunger as he stared down at you.
“You can cum as many times as it takes for me to finish inside of you, sweetheart,” he muttered. He surprised you with a snap of his hips, jamming his cock against the spongy spot inside of you that always made you sing. Hugging your thighs to his chest, he began to fuck you relentlessly. No more foreplay. No more sweet talk—like there’d been any of that in the first place. You were already at the edge, anyway. Finding a last surge of strength, you raised your head off the pillow and grabbed onto the top of Hoshina’s head, curling your fingers into his hair. The two of you stared into each other’s eyes wordlessly, mouths hanging open, tongues dangling like dogs. It was so erotic, so human, so suddenly intimate that you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been having small mini-orgasms, but this was it. You let go of him just as you climaxed, explosively, clapping a hand over your mouth so that the cries that escaped you would be somewhat muffled. You felt his breath hitch before he cursed, the fuck that left his lips and the final erratic thrust of his cock into your pussy telling you that he’d finally climaxed, himself. You felt yourself pulsing around him and wondered if he’d ever encountered a fuck as good as you, the same way you thought about him. Surely, that had to be the reason he kept inviting himself over at these odd hours? It wasn’t that he liked you enough to love you. You were just available and convenient.
Get it together, [Name]... of course he wouldn’t like somebody as wishy-washy as you.
The so-called ‘post nut clarity’ was hitting you hard. He collapsed into bed beside you with a heavy sigh, pulling out with a wet pop, the used condom just barely hanging onto his softening, shrinking dick. You felt as if you’d embarrassed yourself by putting on this lacy, lilac underwear. Like you tried too hard. You were almost in your thirties with no man to call your own, yet here you were, playing dress-up for a guy that only comes to use you because you let yourself be used. Your relationship expired whenever the sun came back up. It was frustrating enough to bring tears to your eyes.
“Hey,” he mumbled, almost making you jump in shock. You hadn’t expected him to speak at all. His words were slurred, somewhat. ‘Cute’ probably wasn’t the first word most people would use to describe him, but your heart swelled when you heard him sigh, sleepily, like a dozing kitten. “When’s your next day off?”
“My what?” you asked dumbly, so stupefied that you could barely comprehend his simple words. His eyelids fluttered open from where he lay beside you, and you didn’t have enough time to avert your gaze or hide your expression. He reached out and caressed the angle of your jaw with his fingertips, a touch so tender that you remained frozen in place. He paused, noticing the mistiness swirling in your eyes. His brow furrowed with something that was unmistakable: concern.
“I’m thinking of booking another day off. Had to use this one on errands. I know you’ve been busy with work and all, but I was thinking that maybe we could get a coffee or something. Spend the day together. How does that sound?”
“You… you’d want to do that? With me?”
He all but snorted. “Do you really think I’d be here if I didn't want to spend time with you?”
Well, yeah! you thought to yourself incredulously. As if hitting rewind on your memories, you tried to think back to every single encounter you’d ever had with him. How he always made a beeline to your desk whenever he came into the lab for testing and asked about your day as if it really mattered to him (you always thought he was just being polite). How he cracked jokes by the water cooler and grinned so proudly whenever you finally broke and laughed (he just seemed like a nice guy). How he looked at you when you surprised him with a bottle of Hokkaido coffee milk you’d stashed in your mini-fridge, waiting for the next time you saw him so that you could share your favourite brand (you were just being nice back). How he fucked you as if he deeply loved you. For a scientist that based their decisions off empirical evidence, had you been the one neglecting to see the proof in the pudding? Not everybody shows their love by saying I love you—had you just been totally blind to his affections all along?
Was it never as casual as you thought?
“But if you’re busy, then—”
“Not at all!” you blurted out, almost sitting up with the sheer jolt of adrenaline and excitement that coursed through your body. You tripped over your own words in the haste to get them out before the moment passed. “I-I’ll have to check with my manager, but I’ll get back to you! Definitely!”
So much for trying to play hard to get. You were basically his puppy-dog, bright eyed and bushy-browed, your sense of hope restored. He chuckled, his palm dropping to the side of your face where he gently twirled a lock of your hair around his finger.
You hadn’t realized how unfair you’d been to his own feelings. You’d always been assuming out of your own insecurities that he didn’t care for you the way that you did for him. You thought he didn’t want to be seen with you, rather than thinking that he was trying to protect your privacy and safety. If you had noticed that it wasn’t just boring old roses he brought, but your favourite flower, a detail about you he remembered from the one time you mentioned it in passing, still lying neglected in the bootroom—you might’ve noticed Hoshina’s uncharacteristic nervousness around you, or how his eyes trailed after you whenever you left, as if magnetically unable to pull away. He always asked about you when you weren’t there. He always requested to do his testing with you on site rather than work with anybody else. You might’ve been able to notice that when he moaned your name, there wasn’t anybody else’s on his mind. Even if you saw yourself as inferior, he saw you as everything more. To him, you were special.
“It’s a date,” he said softly, smiling at you as he did. Though you were still afraid, and nervous, and hopeful, and adoring, and everything in between, you couldn’t help but grin right back.
“Okay. It’s a date.”