#misaka natsuki

[cr0ssfortune]

⚡︎

[616ioi]

Genuinely surprised you don't write much on Natsuki Misaka 😯 (I'm not trying to be rude sorry if it comes across as bitchy🧍🏽‍♀️)

Listen. Natsuki is the Femdom dream.

A larping brat who is weak to praise, leather, leashes, and collars, and has piercings (he most definitely has pierced nipples too), with lightening sorcery that can be used against him as a tool of punishment.

And I feel that if I delve into his character, I'm gonna write the most depraved things that I didn't know I had in me.

But send thirsts of natsuki, and I'll give it a go 💋

[quehecke]

go for it nakamura but natsukified

[pin-yao]

[florasuno]

You used to hate mornings before you started sleeping with Natsuki. You were, admittedly, not a morning person. You never woke up easily. But once he started sleeping next to you, mornings became stolen little moments of playfulness and kisses. You were still in a fog of sleepiness, and nothing had happened during the day to put a frown or annoyed expression on your boyfriend’s face.

Instead, your fingertip smoothed down the bridge of his nose, tracing across the scar that sliced over it. His brows twitched, and he shifted his head as a sigh escaped him. His body recognized the touch as consistently wanted and familiar. Not launching into instant alertness as it normally would. Your lips quirked up in a smile as your fingers continued to trace along his features, watching as he relaxed into the small touches.

Slowly, you raised your hand into the air, sucking your lips into your mouth to hold back any laughter. As it started to cut through the air towards the side of his head, strong fingers snapped around your wrist. A grin exploded onto your face as you looked into now open pale blue eyes.

Natsuki raised a brow, smirking at you. “You think you’re slick, huh?” He tugged your arm to him, rolling over onto you and pressing his fingers into your sides as his body pressed into yours. You squealed, laughter brightening the room as you futilely tried to wrestle him off of you.

A laugh cut through his lips as he pinned your wrists next to your head on the pillow.

“One of these days,” you sighed as you caught your breath, “I’m actually going to get you.”

He grunted, grinning. “Maybe when we’re 80 and my reflexes aren’t as fast.”

Your grin softened and you raised your head to steal a kiss from him. “You think of us when we’re 80?”

A yawn escaped him as he stretched over you, laying his head on your chest. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to answer, content to have your fingers comb through his hair.

Then his voice came muffled from where his mouth pressed into the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Obviously. Put too much effort into you.”

He let you slap the back of his head, body shaking as he laughed over you.

“You put effort into me???”

[florasuno]

Misaka Natsuki never gave up on his training. He didn’t receive one of the enchanted swords, so he didn’t get the opportunity to experience the cushy life of a war hero. He was one of the overly-plentiful unlucky that experienced the horror of war and none of the glory.

Something about the end of the war never sat right with him. Of course, that could just be because he had never lived a life of peace. He wouldn’t know what to do kicking back at a shrine, or soaking in a hot spring for hours on end. He was dedicated to his craft. He didn’t know who to be without a sword in his hand.

So he trained. Every day. He went on missions. He worked out at the gym. He honed his sorcery. He made sure his body was a finely tuned weapon that was ready to be utilized at a moment’s notice.

Which was how he knew you had been sitting on the steps of the training room watching him for the last five minutes. You hadn’t said anything when you walked in. You didn’t slam the door, or make him take notice of you. You simply closed the door softly behind you, wrapped your robe around your pajamas and sat down on the steps.

Natsuki tugged the headphones off his ears, the riotous drums and guitar fading as he set them on top of the large speaker before working the twenty-five pound weights off his wrists.

“You should be sleeping,” he grunted.

You yawned. “You got out of bed.” Your hand reached up to rub your eyes as you pushed your hair out of your face. “Nightmares again?”

Your partner sighed, letting the weights drop to the floor mat before he jerked his chin to the piles of sliced wood around him. “We needed kindling.”

You huffed a laugh and groaned as you stood up, the knees of someone in their thirties not letting the motion be quite as seamless as someone in their twenties. Opening the door of the mini fridge in the border, you pulled out a bottle of water and tossed it to him. Natsuki caught it easily, because of course he did. You watched him open the bottle and chug half of it in one go. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have nightmares. You had told him time and again it was PTSD and maybe he’d like to see someone for that, but he always said that he was seeing someone. In your humble opinion, his sword and a training dummy didn’t really count as ‘someone’ but it was going to take a slow fight with him on this.

You wrapped your arms around his middle, resting your chin against his chest as you looked up at him.

“You’re safe, Natsu. Everyone you love is safe.”

Not everyone, your mind corrected, Ibuki would never be safe again. Hadn’t been safe. Neither had Rokuhira.

Natsuki saw this correction in your eyes, and leaned his head down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. No, they weren’t safe. But you were. You would always be. His arms loosely came around your shoulders and he pressed his cheek against the crown of your head as he looked at the ghosts of his past. The ones he would never have you see.

You would be safe. Because Natsuki never gave up on his training. As long as his ghosts still held physical form, he would be a finely honed weapon. Because you would be safe.

[florasuno]

[florasuno]

I don’t think you understand how I was fucking knocked out the SECOND his intro happened.