I notice there’s not a lot of hcs or post in the sakatomo days fandom, must be bc the anime just came out.
But do you have and hcs on Nagasaki? The invisible guy everyone seems to be freaking over?
I love Natsuki.
Love a dark brooding man with a work ethic.
I don't actually have any headcannon for him currently but I am working on something he is just so difficult to write.
But this is something I had been working on that I hope you like
5:38
You frowned at the clock. Natsuki was late. Usually, he punched out and caught the train home, kicking his shoes off by 5:30. At the latest…
5:50.
You never really worried about it, but with the takeover and all the overtime he’d been putting in, your nerves were starting to fray.
6:12.
You were already grabbing your keys, slipping on your shoes, your fluffy pajamas wrinkled and half-hidden behind your oversized coat when you collided with your boyfriend’s sturdy chest.
His large hands steadied on your hips as you looked up at him.
Tired eyes stared down at you, his pale skin marred with bruises and a busted lip, a small smile curling on his lips as he looked down at you.
“Natsuki! Oh my god! Let me get the medical kit. Are you bleeding? What happened? Is this work or did something happen on the train? I can..”
You tried to pull away, but his strength was unrelenting. “Aren’t you cute, but I have everything I need right here. You’re the perfect balm for all my troubles. But I do hope you weren’t going to go out in those fluffy pjs…” His eyes darkened. “…Only I get to see them.”
“What?” You craned your neck to look up at his battered face.
Natsuki smirked at your bewilderment, wrapping his arms around you and backing you up until you hit the futon and collapsed onto it with a soft thud.
“Natsu…”
He hovered above you, his smirk never leaving his face as he leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "I know you're worried, but I’m fine." His voice was low, teasing, as his hand slid slowly up your arm, his fingers just grazing your skin. “Just a little beat-up, nothing I can’t handle. Besides…” He shifted, pressing his body closer to yours, and you felt the heat radiating off him. “…I like when you are fussing over me.”
Your heart skipped a beat as his thumb stroked your cheek, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to his gentle touch. His lips brushed against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss, but his eyes still held that dangerous glint.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice thick with intent. “Not tonight.”
He pulled away slightly, enough to settle beside you on the futon, pulling you into the warmth of his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You let yourself melt into the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of him— a mix of him with the lingering traces of the day’s exhaustion.
"Stay with me here on the bed," he murmured, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone, intead a sleepy lull clung to low tones. You could feel the weight of his bruises, the tension in his muscles.
You nodded, letting yourself relax fully against him, as the quiet hum of his heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his breath settled you into a peaceful lull. His hand rested against your hip as you both just laid there together, wrapped up in each other’s warmth.
