#nurse!kenji

[mvjerbs]

WELCOME TO A SLICE OF LIFE ULTRAMAN AU WHERE WE HAVE NURSE KENJI

ARCHITECT PROFESOR JURO

AND THEIR PERSCHOOLER DAUGHTER EMI

Bonus comic:

Me and my friend after making the au:

[syxilla]

Ken sato x !nurse reader (part 2)

cw: ken sato x femreader, suggestive!, nursereader, reader is a simp and perv, slight manipulation!

-"are you uncomfortable?"

in which ken sato touches you in ways on the bus that simply dont scream platonic, while asking you with the sweetest dough like eyes if hes making you nervous.

authors note: i really liked the bus scene in part 1 so i decided to make a more detailed version of that scene! this isnt really long, but i hope its still good! same cw as the other ones, and still not proof read, enjoy!

(part 1 is here!)

currently on a bus, heading to an arena with a name you didn't care to remember, for a practice session with the giants, you sat next to kenji. this was something he asked (more like coerced) you into doing, gently tugging your arm down to sit him beside him while he chatted while his other teammates, pushing you to remain trapped between the window in the back of the bus and kenji. you sat with your eyes glued to the book that was sitting on your lap. it was an hour ride, and you wanted to save your battery. however, around 8 minutes in, you feel a hand slap your knee playfully. you look over to your left to see him laughing with the others, opting to hit your knee instead of his own. you roll your eyes and go back to your book.

once the laughter dies down, you notice something; kenjis hand never moved. it was just chilling on your knee. you were about to flick it off when you felt his hand ride up, to properly rest on your thigh. at around 12 minutes, you felt him stroke your leg, moving his hand up and down slowly, in soothing motions. this made you squeal internally (being downbad, as per usual) but clear your throat trying your best to remain composed. at 15 minutes, he paused, only touching your thigh with his index finger, tracing random geometric shapes into your skin. a triangle, a rectangle, an oval and a star. and something that was probably made up, but to astrologist theyd probably call it the mona lisa but in star form.

either way, just pure nonsense into your thigh. at around 21 minutes into the ride, he stopped. instead, kenji opted to move his hand closer to your inner thigh, gently kneading it. youd be lying if you said that you disliked it. it was soothing. tending to parts of the muscles that you didn’t even realize were sore. and then he moved his hand directly inbetween your thighs. this made you freeze, tensing your legs around his hand. you glanced at his face through your peripheral, only to see him still laughing with the others as if his hand wasnt trying to impersonate dora. your thighs werent somewhere to explore! plus, it was all so... intimate.

you felt his pinky finger from inside, nudge your thigh, as if it was his way of telling you to loosen up. and being a dumbass (as per usual), took a deep breath and unclenched your legs. and it seems that wasnt enough, because his stupid little pinky fingur nudged your inner thigh again, extending itself to give himself more space. you look over at kenji through the corner of your eye, and this time he turns around to look at you. he gives you his iconic smile before turning his attention away from you. or well, his gaze from you. his hand is still stroking your thigh. his touch felt nice on clothed skin, you wondered how it'd feel if there wasnt anything to block his way...

your hands slap away from your book to your cheeks to pat your face, 34 minutes into the ride. 'what the fuck is wrong with me?!' you berated yourself, as if you didnt already know the answer was everything. you were a bit of a pervert, but then again who wasnt? it wasnt your fault! its natural, you had hormones just like every other person that roamed this earth! why is it weird only when you do it?

but these thoughts were cut short, when around 43 minutes into the ride he let his hand glide further up. where his hands were currently were was probably a little (only by a little) were the average short skirt would end. which means it was dangerously close to...

well, you knew what you meant. of course you did, it was you. were you even reading your novel? why dont you try? he probably didnt know what he was doing anyways! it was normal to massage someones inner thigh, gripping at particularly fleshy parts, slightly bruising them and then massaging them in circular motions through your pants fabric. letting his finger tips drag against them all while keeping a calm and composed expression. if he could be calm and composed, why not you? you're a composed person!

so you clear your throat once again, and place shaky hands onto your book, and begin to focus on the words.

'Fishing is the activity of trying to catch a fish. Fishing to some people could also mean a predator trying to catch its prey.' read the opening of your chapter. 50 minutes into the ride. his hand moves upwards, 10 inches away from where you desired.

'“Soojin!” Beamed Jugyeong, rushing over to her friend. “Jugyeong! What's up?” Soojin asked, slightly bending over to see the shorter girls face better. “Amazing! The wedding was fabulous!” Jugyeong said, fixing he pin she had maintaining her bun. “Absoulutely! The venue was amazing.” Soojin smiled, twirling her friend around. “I'm sure you an Suho will have the perfect fairytale like marriage ever.” She added, hugging her tightly.' she read on, growing immersed in the story when she him move closer. 51 minutes into the ride, 9 inches away.

'She drank half a glass once again, plopping her head down onto the bar with a ‘plop’. “Jealousy rears her pretty head.” said a voice from behind her. Bait is used to lure the prey.

“Glass of water please!” The voice said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Fuck off.” She said, attempting to slap its arm off. “Chill, no need to get vulgar with me.” At this, Soojin was heavily irritated. She looked up at the voice’s face, her mouth being pulled into a smirk. “Of course… Han Seojun.” She said an edge in her tone. “Soo. Why are you so jealous of Jugyeong? It's been years si-” He started, waving one hand around, the other holding his glass of water.'

youre able to read for 4 more minutes until you felt him grip your thigh paticularly hard, making you let out a slight whimper. 5 inches away, 55 minutes into the ride. your destination already in your sights.

'“At the very least, I went to their wedding, where were you?” She hummed, her hands gripping at the seat. He sat down beside her, his legs spread open, tilting his head to the side.' you read on, as he spread your legs wider, his finger merely 3 inches away. 58 minutes. it would only take one slight graze, just one you thought to yourself while trying not to indulge in the way he caressed your thigh, gentle yet hard enough you could feel it better.

'“Friends with benefits is a better way to describe us.” She smiled, though it held a smidge of melancholy. Patience.' were you even paying attention to the book at this point? if you werent you wouldnt blame yourself, because theres simply one measly inch between you and what you want. you could feel the warmth of his hand already, and he hadnt even touched you yet.

'A vibration was sent through our bodies as a new song began to play. We looked in the direction of the noise to be greeted by people gyrating their hips and sweaty bodies sticking to each other. His hand slowly crawled up my thigh before dropping itself to my knee.' and right when you felt him lift his hand to move it closer, its been one hour.

his hand removes itself from between your legs and you let out a sigh of relief. "damn, you good?" he asked concerned, as him and other players laughed, getting off of the bus already. "y-yeah! im fine!" you smiled. then he makes a face. the concerned face. hed always make this face before asking that god forsaken question. "ah, im sorry! was i making you uncomfortable? i didnt mean to, im sorry, truly." he apologized, his honeyed words laced with sympathy and sadness. fuck, he was a heart puller. "no no! im just fine, dont feel guilty! its just, hot in here?" you stammer, trying to convince yourself more than him.

his mood visibly perks up and he goes in to hug you, his face taking its rightful spot inbetween your neck and shoulder. "im glad i dont make you uncomfortable, id never wanna make you feel bad..." he murmurs, slightly muffled. you hug him back, patting his back a little. he lifts up his face to whisper in your ear.

"id rather make you feel pleasure instead, yeah?"

he pulls himself away from your neck while a small, completely pure and innocent smile before getting up from his spot and walking off of the bus, leaving you to sit there dumbfounded. were you... the fish?

---

a/n: the book exerpts are from this fanfiction i made of a ship from the webtoon True Beaty (the ship was Soojin x Seojun) i added it in cause i thought that specific chapter woulda fit nicely in this thing :)

[prick-love-for-arting]

"Don't worry, Aone, I've only got a few hours to go"

more hospital AU! I've mentioned nurse Aone, but also I think him and Futakuchi run into each other as one leaves and the other arrives most of the time. They have breakfast/dinner together. Sometimes Futakuchi works longer hours and Aone isn't always the biggest fan.

[ammoniteblue]

college rival! kenji sato who’s trying to break the stereotype that student athletes can’t be smart. his dad is a genius for fucks sake. so he takes the hardest classes. computer science. applied physics. chemistry. its hard. super hard and most days he falls asleep after practice still sticky and sweaty, with a book on his face. but he does it. and slowly people begin to recognise the freshman who waltzes into the library’s bio-chem section with a baseball mitt and jersey. it’s how you begin to notice him anyways. and then you realise the new starter for the college baseball team might actually give you some trouble.

college rival! kenji sato who starts to put his hand up to answer questions. at first it was just one or two, but soon he’s sticking his hand up for every. single. one. questions you would usually answer. he’s almost never wrong but when he is you make sure to be the one to correct him. it quickly becomes a competition. in lectures. in classes. the other students start to notice, and word of the budding rivalry between the quiet scholarship student and freshman star of the baseball team spreads.

college rival! kenji sato who refuses to leave the library till you do. he’ll sit at a table, books spread out, laptop open, taking notes and making flash cards, until his vision blurs and his fingers cramp. but he won’t be the first to go. absolutely not. it won’t be till the last person has left that the librarian will scuttle round to tell you both to get lost. as you both leave you make a point to ignore each other, but he can feel you shooting daggers at his back.

college rival! kenji sato who nearly crushes his water bottle when he reads your article in the school newspaper. he’s surprised to see you write for the sports column and even more surprised to see you’ve named him. till he reads the flurry of insults and unflattering idioms. “more ego than man”, “bad team player”, “distracted”. of course he’s distracted ! you’ve been on his mind for weeks. constantly making jabs at him in class, sprinting to answer your professors questions first in lectures. he’s not been able to eat, to sleep, not without thinking about your stupid fucking smirk as you try to remind him that he, a college athlete, belongs at the bottom of the academia totem pole.

college rival! kenji sato who tries to ignore you when you turn up at one of his games. he doesn’t understand why you’re there, till he sees your friends join you. It’s weird he thinks, when you’re with them laughing and smiling you don’t actually look that bad. but then your eyes find his and that laughter, that warmth, is gone and kenji remembers that nope you are an insufferable bitch.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself at the same stupid house party as you. he’s with a few of his teammates, it’s after the game. they won. they’re celebrating. most of them are red-faced, drooling drunk. he’s nursing a beer, can in hand, when he spots you from across the room. you’re leaning against the wall in what looks like a casual manner, till kenji takes a closer look. then he sees the guy, some dude from you shared AP physics class. Paul or Pete ?? Kenji doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. not when he sees the guy lean down to kiss you, just for you to try and push him away. He’s by your side before he has time to register what he’s doing.

college rival! kenji sato who not only knocks a guy out for his class rival, but bails on a night out. he offers to take you home and doesn’t say a word when he gives you his letterman jacket, after noticing you shivering. it’s warm and smells of polish and freshly cut grass. neither of you say a word, which is what makes it even more bizarre when you lean up to kiss him. you’re nowhere near your dorm, outside some random humanities building, but you can’t help it. for weeks you’ve been puzzling over why he bugs you so much, why his constant presence in classes and lectures, in your favourite study spots, sends your heart into a flurry. sometimes anger and attraction can feel very similar.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself in your dorm room, your roommate nowhere to be found. He lets you push him back onto the bed, lets you be the one to tug his shirt off. it’s been weeks of constant battling for control and yet here he is giving up so easily. Kenji gives you the victory you’ve been looking for just to see the smile on your face.

college athlete kenji = late night brainrot. if you enjoyed lemme know if i should do a part 2. Next part of Not a hero, Just an Author will be up soon <333

[vikuo-kuma]

Injured

Ken Sato x Nurse! Reader

A/N: I NEED MORE FANFICS OF HIM PLEASE FEED MY BRAIN ROT.

———•

“Shit. Not there—”

“Ow! What the heck Doc?!”

There you were, sleeves rolled up with gloves on both of your hands, cleaning up the wound Kenji Sato had gained from his Ultraman fight. While Kenji was struggling to keep still as you’re gaze fixated upon his body.

“Quit moving around, I told you it would take me a while with your stupid injuries”.

Smacking his arm out of the way, exposing the damage he was trying to hide.

“How the hell did you get that injured from that fight? I thought the ultraman suit would protect you. Unless there’s something more to the suit”.

“…It malfunctioned..”

You looked at him dead in his eyes.

“You’re lying aren’t you”.

“No! I promise I’m not!”

Quickly you tighten his bandages like it was some sort of corset.

“Ow! Ok! Ok! Maybe I am!”

You loosen up the bandages, wrapping around his torso properly. Then turn to face him again, your hands on his slightly injured torso.

“You know damn well it malfunction when you’re overworking it. What’s going on?”

“I–”.

Glaring at him making sure that he speaks the truth.

“I’ve been taking care of a Baby Kaiju..”

He looked away from your gaze, not wanting to have his ear drums break. Nor did he want to see your shock expression.

“Oh. So you’re a dad now”.

“You’re not surprised?”

Turning his head slowly while opening his eyes. By the sounds of it, he was relieved that you weren’t over reacting about a Kaiju.

“I have a Kaiju too”.

“WHAT—”

[https-yutaliker]

━━ stranger - kenji sato x fem! reader

singer! reader x kenji sato

wc: 2.6k --- warnings!

pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise, pet names (baby, good girl, etc.), pussydrunk kenji, switch!kenji, switch!reader, cunnilingus, teasing, edging, munch kenji

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺

"i know your face, i know your name, but i don't know you. isn't that crazy?"

leaves fly around outside, the cool autumn breeze flowing through the crisp air. the giants had finally earned a championship for the first time in years, the helpful addition of kenji sato being the supporting backbone of it all. for the large celebration they had hired you and your band for the occasion, just the right moment as you guys were getting to the point you would take any offer available. 

with you as the lead singer, your voice travelled smoothly through the residence, eyes closed as you were caught in the groove that were your instrument players. as you open your eyes for a harmless scan of the area, you notice him. kenji sato.

he nursed a shot of whiskey in his hand, taking the occasional sip as his teammates surrounded him. but his eyes never strayed from your figure. taking the last gulp he set down his drink firmly before walking over to you, ambition clear as day in his eyes.

“hey,” you hear next to your ear, his breath falling over the shell as his arm comes to settle around your waist. “[name], right? i really liked the set tonight with your crew. your voice is angelic, y’know that?” he speaks, his heavy gaze locked onto yours. you gaze up at him wistfully, body tingling where his hand rested nonchalantly on your hip. you giggle, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “aww, well thank you. the kenji sato thinking i’m pretty and my voice is good? i’m surprised i haven’t tipped over by now.”

his eyes darken slightly, smirking at your words, somewhat surprised and thrilled his presence had this much of an effect on you. “really?” he starts, leaning closer into your space. “you’re that surprised i think you’re pretty?” with his next words, he moves down to your ear, his breath slightly puffing against it. “and it’s not think, it’s something i know for a fact. you’re gorgeous.”

you stare wide eyed at his words, your heart nearly stopping. stomach fluttering, your face grows warm with the added sensation of his warm breath washing over your ear. seeing your shocked expression, kenji’s smirk only deepens. body pressed against yours, he lifts his hand to grasp your chin in between his index and thumb, guiding you to keep your gaze locked onto his.

“wanna get out of here?”

as kenji drags you inside the house you snicker as you make it inside, the sight of his eagerness easily amusing. he crowds into your space, your arms wrap around his neck as you capture his lips with yours, melting into his hold. he moans involuntarily against you, the tension and anticipation exploding all at once at the feeling of your body pressed against his. his arms wrap around you, pulling you close, and he wastes no time deepening the kiss. the pent up desire from the car ride and the hours of wanting you come rushing through him, taking over as he kisses you. 

his mind is fuzzy, thoughts racing. he wants to get you to his room, but part of him doesn’t want to stop. desperate, your hand trails up to tug at his hair harshly, your leg sliding up to cradle his hip. the feeling of your leg wrapping around his hip and your hand pulling at his hair has him almost losing his mind. he groans against your lips, grip on you tightening, almost as if he’s scared you might disappear. he pushes you further into the doorway, pressing you against the wall and trapping you underneath his body.

kenji breaks the kiss to trail down your jawline, lips ghosting over the supple skin as he feels you shiver underneath his hold. “i wanna memorize every inch of your body..,” he groans. you feel a hand cradle the small of your back, arching into it. your body flushes as his intoxicated gaze makes contact with yours.

“k-kenji,” you manage to gasp out, tugging at the raven strands. “maybe we should take this to your room instead.” he lifts his head from your neck, appearance mussed and disheveled as his intoxicated gaze locks into yours with lidded eyes. “r-right.. yeah.. room.. that’s.. probably a good idea," he stammers out. kenji practically drags you to his room, his legs carrying you both there in record time. his body thrums with anticipation. the second you enter his room and the door is shut he pounces, pinning you against the door. his body molds against yours, his lips devouring your neck, hands roaming anywhere they can reach.

you whine at his sucking, your hands coming to scratch at his back as your leg cradles his hip once again, grinding against him with pure need. kenji groans at the feeling of your body grinding against him, his teeth sinking into your neck from the sensation. his hips thrust forward instinctively, his aching cock pressing into your core. his body craved more contact as he started to get rougher with his hands and lips. 

the hours of waiting for  you, fantasizing about what it would be like to have you like this… it’s driving him absolutely insane.

“[name]… fuck, i can’t get enough of you, baby." he groaned, lips parting as his eyes shut at the sensation. his thrusts slowly speed up, his hands landing on your hips as he grips them in a vice. a moan escapes you at his words, your hands tracing the hem of his shirt before tugging at it hungrily, craving to feel his skin against your own. “shit, take this off,” you whine, the pressure of his clothed cock against your cunt making your knees feel weak. he immediately obliges, undoing his buttons hurriedly before tossing it to the side and crowding into your space once again, attacking your neck and chest with his lips and hands.

“want you so much… so much.” he breathes against your skin, whining as he paws at your skirt. your frustration gets the best of you as you push kenji onto the bed, climbing onto his lap as you ravish him. the atmosphere is so hot, a mix of limbs and longing as you two claw at each other, the desperation almost unbearable. his hands fly up to grip your hips as he falls back, desperate to keep you as close to him as possible. he moans into the kiss at the feeling of you rolling your hips into his own, his hips meeting yours with equal fervor. his hands grip harder on your hips, bruises bound to appear later.

kenji breaks the kiss, lips glistening and eyes low as they burn into your own. he lets out a shaky breath. “god, i need you so bad.” you pull back flushed before you giggle, running your fingers through his hair before lightly tugging him lower so he has to look up at you. “yeah? What do you need me to do, ken?” you tease, the atmosphere thick with pure desire. kenji’s heart practically bursts, his body shuddering at the touch of your nails against his scalp. he swallows dryly before replying hoarsely. “need you to let me taste you.. please.” his hands move from your waist down your legs as he lowers himself onto his knees, leaving your hand resting limp on his head. “anything you’ll give me, i’ll take it.”

you raise your eyebrow at the sight before guiding him back up by his chin, guiding him to the awaiting mattress. kenji stumbles back, you following right behind as you situate yourself to sit on his stomach. grabbing a fistful of raven locks you force him to look up at you, his eyes slightly glossing over.

 “you said anything i give you right? let’s see how well you hold up your word, sato.” you breathe out, tightening your grip on his hair. at the sensation his eyes flutter closed, slightly rolling back before he comes back to himself.

he holds your thighs open, keeping them close to his own body before leaning into your core, nose pressing against the skin of your cunt as he presses a light kiss against your clit, licking a stripe against it. you shudder, back bowing into itself at the sensation. at your reaction kenji grows eager, sucking slightly at it before licking messily into your folds, his grip strengthening as a moan escapes him. “god, fuckin’ love how you squeeze around my tongue like that,” he pants, shoving his tongue back into you, curling to lick up every ounce of wetness that leaked out. you moan loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth as the other comes back down onto kenji’s hair. 

“shit – kenji,” you sighed, your eyes half-lidded as you struggle to keep your gaze on his own. “keep… keep going,” you manage to garble out. he laps at your cunt hungrily, every drop landing on his tongue making him dizzy with the desire for more. one of his hands slowly moves from your thigh, making its way to your dripping cunt before his fingers trace your folds. he delves them in swiftly, a cry escaping you. squelching sounds fill the room adding to the erotic symphony, your hips grinding down onto his face quicker with added desperation.

he moans into your cunt, hand bruising your hip as his fingers scissor you open carefully. the stretch has you squirming, your eyes shutting as his fingers probe deeper. “‘s good baby — ah, feels so good ken.” he hums into your wetness, pulling back momentarily. “you taste so good, could eat this pussy for days.” he pants before diving back in as he laps up your wetness. his fingers work in and out of you swiftly, curling just right with every movement of his tongue. tremors rack your body, your release teetering just on the edge. “so- so good, kenji– ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, body tingling as you prepare to let go.

hearing your pleas, kenji pulls off with a smirk, your pained whines being cut off as he pulls you into a searing kiss, hand grasping at your hair for purchase. his tongue licks into your mouth with a force that has you moaning, kissing him back in earnest. you part, heavy panting filling the thick atmosphere. you stare for a split second at each other before ripping your clothes off respectively.

the sound of your top being discarded and your skin against his own has kenji’s mind running rampant. the sensation of your lips pressing against his own, breathy moans filling his brain makes him snap. he breaks the kiss, breath coming out in labored gasps as his trembling hands come to fit your thighs, the meat of your skin escaping each crevice as he tries to position your bodies together.

“i want you so bad…. please.”

“fuck — okay,” you moan into his mouth, grabbing his length steadily as you raise your body above his own. sinking down, you keen as your head falls back, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. kenji lets out an animalistic moan, any possible remaining cockiness quickly dissipating as the tip of his cock slipped past your folds. “that’s it, baby, take it all.” he muttered under his breath. his body arches into yours at the pure pleasure of it all, breath already picking up speed as his hips thrust up involuntarily.

he needs more. 

from the top of the night until now, he’s been itching ever since your name rolled ever so smoothly off the tip of your tongue. “[name]..” he moans, his eyes glued to your own. “so good… god baby you feel so fucking good.”

you whine obscenely at the utterance of your name, your head lolling into the crevice of his neck as you grind into him. “shit… kenji, want more..” you babble mindlessly. the feeling of your walls fluttering around him causes him to groan, shifting his hips into a steady rhythm that has him grasping at your thighs desperately. every grind of your body against his has him gasping in pleasure. the feeling of your body surrounding him, the press of your skin on his, the hot breaths against his neck.

it’s driving him absolutely delirious with need. the sound of your murmured words has his heart clenching in his chest, his mind reeling with the need to give you more, to give you anything you needed. 

“give you… anything you want, sweetheart.” he gasps out between groans, hips bucking up harder against yours. the sensation of him speeding up makes you yelp, your nails scraping roughly against his back as you bite on his shoulder roughly. your eyes squeeze shut before you release just as quickly, a wail leaving your lips as you attempt to grasp him closer. “goddd – kenji i’m so close,” you gasp out, breath quivering as a tear cascaded down your cheek. 

“i know baby, i know.” he breathes into your ear, pulling your body closer to him as his thrusts speed up. “but look, you’re taking me so well, yeah?” he pulls your hips further down right as he thrusts up, and your jaw drops. tremors rack your body as your lips part in a silent cry, the only thing escaping your mouth being a measly cry. “a-ah, k-kenjii” you yelp, feeling your legs tighten around his waist. “right… right there – fuck!” the way he moved, controlling his hips with every motion and maximising his motions. 

he chuckles, admiring the view above him as you unravel in his arms. he finds himself tossing his head back in bliss with a lean arm clinging onto the cool wood of the headboard. you’ve lost track of how long it’s been, a hazy cloud lingering over your mind as your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clench around him, whimpers spilling out of your mouth as your legs tremble. seeing you lose focus he grips your chin tightly, forcing you to face him. “eyes on me baby, don’t stop,” he pants, feeling your walls tighten. 

the sounds of kenji’s orders push you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you throw your head back. pleasure washes over you like a bucket of ice cold water, your hands grabbing at his shoulders helplessly. “k-kenjiii- fuck!” you yelp, feeling your legs tighten around his waist. “want.. want you to breed me..” the sound of you unraveling in his hold and hearing your voice calling his name has a wave of desperate need coursing through him. just when he didn’t think things could get any more intense, he hears your words, and his mind goes white with raw need.

“f-fuck.. need to breed you.. need to fill you up.. oh christ..” kenji gasps out, his mind completely gone. his arms wrap around you even tighter, holding you close and moving you against him, his breath hot against your sensitive neck. you shudder, the feeling of his length in your sensitive cunt leaves your lips parted, your hips grinding incessantly at the painful pleasure as your nails scratch at his back needily. 

each time you move against him, he feels like his mind is shattered. the sounds you’re making, the way he can feel you pulsing around him, the scratch of your nails against his back, it’s all pushing him closer to the edge. he can’t stop, can’t hold back anymore, his body is completely overcome with the intense ecstasy.

he gasps out a moan and buries his head into the crook of your neck as he thrusts up into you once, twice, his body tensing as he finally lets go. “oh god..” he heaves, thick cock letting hot spurts of white filling you up comfortably, a sigh escaping him as he leans fully onto his headboard. you sigh contentedly at him finishing, the warmth of it making you slightly quiver in his hold. “so full,” you mumble, your head falling softly onto his shoulder as you melt into‎ his strong hold.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　

"in a different book, on a different page. you said you were different, but you’re the same, stranger."

[spurbleu]

patching up Ken Sato…

↓︎❤︎

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

Your anger peeled from the cap of your tongue in rattle-trap breaths, a python coiling around your lungs, fangs in trachea. It festered aimlessly in your belly, sparking at your finger tips as you navigated the dozens of blemishes across Kenji’s face.

Sedentary anxiety. Dulled by the early morning draft in the basement of his house, sleep tugging at your bloated eyes. Cool iron’s impotent attempt to soothe the insecurity in your nursing hands, plum cast across the base of your frown- bitten oblivion.

He knew exactly what this did to you- mortal, daft thing. Familiar with the stutters of your heart as he crumples into the porch dust, aware of the hysteria that appears in the pleats of your finger tips. Enough to drive a someone mad, but never drive them off.

Guilt buried its ugly head in the grooves of his palm, flat against the dip of your hips. Eyes careful, nostalgic, as you swallowed in satisfaction at you foster. You were getting better at this.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s infuriating, how quickly he opens the wiry cage of forgiveness- a bird called mercy fluttering in the apex of your throat. You curled into his chest, humming into the flushed, bruised tendons that built his neck.

Sometimes you’d find yourself confusing the marks you made with the Kaiju’s.

A man, split.

“I love you.”

You were too tired to say it back- but he found it in the bandages that held him together.

[ladyshrike]

The Four Times You Say His Full Name

Am I any good at writing? Not really. It's all over the place in my opinion, but I had to get this thought out one way or another.

The four times you called him by his full name.

This first time you called him "Kenji" instead of a nickname, was back in LA. You were working a wedding up in Griffith Park, a beautiful little affair under the strawberry moon. It's all the witchy vibes you adore, a little wedding mixed with a baby shower, good vibes, blessings and tides. They'd offered you some food, which you wouldn't turn down as a known foodie, and that was when you got the call.

Ken had been riding home from the party in the hills and crashed his bike. He wasn't too far from Griffith, that had been the good part of taking this job, and he's been taken to Silver lake, a quick drive from the park. The couple is understanding, eventually becoming good friends with her later on, but that's a story for another time. She's racing through the streets, down the hills and to the hospital. They hadn't given you much information, just that he'd crashed and where he was. And when you get there, you ask the charge nurse for him, only to feel his arms throw themselves around your shoulders, a slightly pointed chin resting atop your head. You immediately smell the alcohol, and it's almost instant that a rage fills your chest.

"Babe! Baby! Sweetcakes~"

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to implode then and there. You look at the nurse in front of you and take small controlled breaths.

"Is he free to go home?"

He was, having been checked over and kept under observation for two hours before they called her. According to her it's just some bad scrapes and bruises, no contusions or anything super bad, he had actually been wearing his helmet at least, just not his jacket. His bike is totaled, helmet cracked, it really is surprising that he didn't have a concussion at the very least, but through even your anger and worry, you're glad he's ok.

You drive him home, and the way there is silent. He'd sensed something was up the way you were being so cold with him, pushing his hand off your thigh, turning your head when he tried to kiss your lips, avoiding eye contact with you. And when you guys get to your shared home, and you help him in, is it the only time since the hospital that you look him in the eyes.

He sees it immediately. That rage that's practically sobering for him. The hurt. Disappointment.

It's not the only time he's ever done this, and he's not particularly tempted to tell you those two words he just knows would just set you off even if it were true.

"Mina, emergency vital check."

The floating AI robot scans him as she stands there for a moment, looking over him herself. The tension so palpable, if she chose to raise a hand at him in her frustration, she could very well slap him with it. But that wasn't her. She was the sweetest thing, practically a Disney princess, so the anger in her eyes is surprising, and new.

"He has two deep road rash injuries, and a large scrape down his side that isn't as bad as the other two. No fractures and no concussion. I suggest monitoring for any latent signs."

"Get him hooked up to a banana bag, then look up flights to Japan."

He shouldn't try to joke, or anything, but the soft scoff leaves his lips before he could stop it.

"Japan? We goin-"

"We, are not going anywhere. I'm going home to see my dad. Maybe we'll talk. Maybe we won't."

His small smile falls, a slight wince given when the IV is put in.

"Is something...is he ok?"

You shoot him a look because you know he's smart enough to understand what you were saying. You didn't want to say it, but you were done. With the empty promises, the lies, the hospital visits. You were done with it.

"Sabine-"

"Kenji, I'm done, ok? I've had it."

And there it is. He thought his parents splitting up was the worst pain, but seeing you stand at the doorway, teary eyed in anger and barely breathing steady, it shatters his heart because he can see it. You are done.

"I only ever asked you for two things. Two. And I am grateful you can at least follow one. I'll give you that, you have never cheated on me and I thank you for that. But if you constantly break this one? Constantly do this shit? How do I know that'll last?"

"H-hey, hold on-"

"No, I am done. I love you. I love your mom. You two are...the only people I consider myself close to here, but I cannot deal with this anymore. I can't deal with thinking one day I'm gonna get a call and have to identify your corpse instead of picking you up from an ER."

"It's just a couple scratches, I'm fine-"

He's done it now. He's said it.

"Forget it."

She grabs her wallet, and just her wallet. It's the only thing in her bag that she's bought herself as her bag had been a gift from him. She heads out and he tries to follow her, not able to get to her before she's speeding out of the driveway. She feels like a hypocrite, because while she isn't drunk, she is speeding like she's a NASCAR driver, and in a residential no less. She doesn't care to look at the time when she arrives at the airport, hoping to find at least one flight outbound to Japan soon. The car can stay in the parking structure for all she cares at this point, he would get a call to pick it up at the end of the month, if she decides not to come back. Her phone vibrates incessantly in her pocket for a bit, even as she's paying for the ticket she's managed to snag so last minute. Her passport is always in her wallet, so she doesn't particularly worry about how she'd get there without it. She turns her phone off, and soon enough, she's on the plane, watching LAX turn into a massive black splotch with dozens of tiny lights speckled across it in almost neat lines, as the plane departs. She's glad for the little privacy her seat offers her in first class. It's a long flight, the seats recline into a bed and everyone has their headphones on, so she isn't particularly worried that they'll hear her already quiet broken sobs.

By the end of the month, your mind is made up. You'd started accepting his calls sometime in the middle of his season. You know you shouldn't have been watching the games, it would only make the hurt worse, but it was better than ignoring him completely. And that wasn't really possible when you get notifications about him on all your social media, all which say he's in a slump and you are nowhere to be seen at his games. Everyday since you'd left, there had been a voicemail. Apologies, checking in messages, more apologies, declarations of love, and to your utmost surprise, a recording of his introduction at an AA meeting. That one particularly stuck with her. Everyday, roughly at 8 pm, a call and a voicemail with his introduction.

Maybe that was why you started taking his calls. Maybe that was why his game was getting better, back to what he usually is at. His averages get better and you, for the most part, find your anger having dissipated. By the end of the month, you're hesitantly standing in his living room as he tries to clean up the bit of clutter he had around. His shirt rides up a little and you see it. The slight scarring from the massive scrape down his side. Your lips quivers and he stops completely, dead in his tracks. He's startled by the sight of those huge wet tears that build in your eyes and his arms are around you instantly, tightly wound to prove he was ok. That he was still there. He was safe.

You cry again that night, held in his arms. He misses the game the next day. He has his thirty day chip to show you after all, and he doesn't want to leave your side to make up for lost time. He swears a promise not to do it ever again. Drink and ride he means. He isn't an alcoholic, and the AA meetings were necessary to get his license back, but he wanted her to see he regretted his decisions wholeheartedly.

The second time you said his full name was at your wedding. A year from the date he proposed to you, rather clichely you'd admit, at your monthly trip to Disneyland. The team had won a game, they were given a PR trip to Disneyland and she was an annual pass holder. She met them there, and during the cavalcade with them, he stepped off as they got to the castle, where she stood watching, and he popped the question, on one knee with a simple little ring she had spotted in a jewelry store. The team, having been in on it, cheering them on when she tearfully said yes.

Now she stands at the alter, in a gorgeous dress that fits her like a glove, his mother as her maid of Honor, and her dad as his best man because let's be honest, he thought of him as a son at this point, the way his mom thought of her as her own daughter in the time they'd all known each other, and the ceremony is relatively small, less than fifty guests, very intimate.

It's during her vows, her promises to him and vice versa that she says it. Beautifully charming smile on those lovely glossy lips of hers.

"I, Sabine Baji, take you, Kenji Sato, as my husband. Through sickness and in health, through the good times and the bad, till death do us part."

It's the sweet and short of her vows, tearfully said as her emotions run rampant. The rest of the night spent energetically celebrating.

The third time is a little more...non PG.

It's off season, he's been training here and there, enjoying some time off in their big house up in the hills. She's spending the weekend babysitting between gigs and she's been...quiet. Maybe it was the fact that she was around them so often. Maybe, it was the fact that her friends just had a little one she was watching currently, that clung to her so jealously when Kenji came around for a cuddle too. Maybe she was ovulating. The exact cause of this scenario was a blur to her really. She just recalled, well, he recalled and told her it was how it went down. Swears by it that she, as the family was driving away with the baby, fast asleep curled up in a hoodie it wouldn't let go or give back, that she looked up at him and said it.

"Kenji." It's the first time in a long time that she says his name, so he worries maybe he did something wrong again without noticing, but the look in your eyes in determined, is heated...pleading. "I want a baby."

The night didn't end for you two there. You both lost count somewhere after three, overstimulated and yet continuing like bunnies in heat. You blame the baby fever, and maybe the wine during lunch, but the venture is fruitful two months later, when four pink lines, two on each stick, and the word 'Pregnant' in bold on the digital test are laid before you two on the bathroom counter.

The same counter he would quickly have you laying against as he spread your thighs open wider, held you closer, got a little rougher with his thrusts, aiming to make the baby in you twins, according to him. Something not fruitful, unfortunately for him, but enjoyable at least.

And that takes us to the fourth and perhaps not final time you ever say his name.

Seven months later, you feel like a ship. The little peanut, you two so kindly nicknamed the baby while looking for a name, kicking around, shifting about, giving you some of the most ravenous cravings you'd ever had. Braxton Hicks, you came to be brutally informed of when waking in the middle of the night in a labor scare, had finally died off.

Or so you had thought.

When the first stab of pain shot through your side, you'd simply grimaced and sighed, shifting on the couch during the somewhat humid autumn day. You had decided to stay the Halloween weekend in, instead of going to a party while you felt like a boat. Kenji immediately notes the discomfort and tries to help.

"You want your little heart ice pack?"

You shake your head, yawning softly because yeah, it hurt, but you were too tired. You just wanted to go to sleep already.

"Ngh...no...just wanna go sleep already...come with me?"

How could he say no? He takes your hand when you ask for help getting up, and you both feel it. The sudden rush of water on your legs, his slippers. Your face is beet red and he's confused for all of two seconds before he's scrambling for the "go" bag. A Dodger duffle bag that the team's wives/significant others had decorated for them. He'd filled it with extra clothes for them, babies first outfits, washed in baby detergent, and a picture of his mom and her dad, both who couldn't be there today. You groan in annoyance because that was your favorite rug now covered in amniotic fluid, and now you would probably stain the carseats because you were not about to try and change your pants in active labor.

(Kenji had that covered, gingerly pulling your panties and pants off and helping you out new ones on, after cleaning you up with a damp towel after all. Kiss to your belly and all.)

You say it, however, sixteen hours into active labor. Minutes before midnight, almost Halloween day, like your baby wanted to share a birthday with you, which you would never mind as long as you get to hold her. It's when a particularly sharp labor pain hits that you yell it, gripping his hand so tightly you swear you hear his hand crack.

It's angry, and pained, and you swear, just after saying his full government name, that you would make him feel how this felt. No amount of epidural helped this pain, no amount of Lamaze Breathing or doulas helped prepare her or take this pain any better. She'd find a way for him to carry and birth the next one even if she'd have to become a mad scientist. She isn't good with pain already and this isn't helping.

"Kenji Sato! You are having the next one, got I-ngh!!!GOT IT?!"

He just about passed out when they announce you're crowning, because for some gods forsaken reason, he decides to look beyond the blue sheet. It's a horror he will never forget, and he swears he won't put you through another round of whatever your anatomy was doing to push yours and his little princess out of you.

And then she's there.

She's in your arms first, he's busy gathering his emotions as they cut the umbilical cord for him, and you need the first few minutes of skin to skin with her before she has to get cleaned up and given her first dose of vaccines. He holds her after, eyes bleary with tears as he does so so gingerly. He doesn't want to hurt her, doesn't want to accidentally harm her tiny little fragile body. She's a perfect amalgamation of you two. His eyes, a grayish blue, but the rest, he will happily and readily proudly admit, is all your looks. Tousled full head of soft pinky fuschia hair, eyebrows to match, rosy cheeks and little pouty lips. He swears, on everything he loves, she smiles when he is told to do skin to skin with her as well. When she curls into his warmth while you are cleaned up by the nurses. And when you two are able to take her home, when you are given the all clear and she passes her car seat test, and you three are finally back in your house, settling her down in her side sleeper by your bed, it's clear that the few times you use his full name can be bad, but most of them?

They're worth it.

[scipunk63]

Post Movie Headcanons.

*Kenji took a WHILE to recover from his injuries during the final battle. So did his dad.

*Nurse Emi wouldn't let him out of her sight while his arm healed. Kenji thinks she's like a "little Mina".

*Emi's first thought was to give Kenji her bunny to make him feel better.

*She and Professor Sato decorate Kenji's cast with stickers whenever he allows it.

*Emi didn't know Mina had died until they returned to the wreckage and found her.

*Emi still watches Kenji's games even when he himself isn't able to play because she wants to be supportive.

[rebellesims420]

Hairi-Ito Family

Spring came in cold so the family has just been nesting and cleaning 🧽 . Emiko has been wanting to try for a third baby but she just can’t seem to get over her jealous rage ever since finding out about Kenji and the nurse texting .

[syxilla]

Ken sato x !nurse reader (part 1)

cw: ken sato x femreader, suggestive!, nursereader, reader is a simp and perv, slight manipulation!

-"are you uncomfortable?"

in which ken sato touches you in ways that simply dont scream platonic, while asking you with the sweetest dough like eyes if hes making you nervous.

authors note: sorry for not uploading sooner! got a lil bored with writing- also i didnt proof read it completely so like, yuh

working with Ken sato was relatively easy. you just applied ointment onto his bruises, did daily checkups to make sure his injuries were never too severe to the point he couldn't play. and each time you finished one of your checkups, ruffling his hair and giving him a lollipop (because hes quite litteralyy a man child) hed always grab you by the waist spin you around and grin a thank you, a grin thatd make you fold almost instantly. you, being flustered by this sudden act of affection, tend to stammer a 'you're welcome'.

when you did, hed set you down on a seat, bending down and place his hand on your knees. he'd lean on one, and look up at you with the sweetest eyes ever. and he'd whisper, "am i making you uncomfortable?" and you, being oh so desperate, youd stutter out "no no! its okay! im not uncomfortable, im just a little shy!" kenji would laugh seeing you frantically waving your hands around.

it wasnt like this was uncommon. not the situation (that was also common), but the phrase.

when theyd sit beside each other on the bus, traveling to another arena, hed place a hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently, and slowly, as the ride comes to its conclusion, hed slowly shift it higher, and higher and higher. and just when hed give you the pleasure you oh so wanted? the bus would stop. youd feel your cheeks get warmer as the bus feels hotter than it was the start of the ride. "sorry about that, are you uncomfortable?" kenji would ask sweetly, eyes filled with remorse and slight regret. which would lead you to stammer out once again; "no, im just fine! its just, hot in here?" you'd say, more trying to convince yourself more than him. hed laugh, and pat your thigh and get up to leave the bus.

that phrase. that cursed phrase he'd repeat as a mantra with those apologetic eyes, paired along with gestures that simply felt too intimate for their kind of relationship, was a deadly mix.

when his hand lingered on your waist for too long when yyoure sitting beside each other, when youd hug, when youd walk side by side. hed always look and ask. "are you uncomfortable?"

Kenji, stroking your calf with his foot underneath the table when hed offer to take you out for lunch. that cursed word appeared again. "sorry, im being a bit handsy, did i make you uncomfortable?"

when kenji would hug your waist and bury himself into your tummy while you checked his head for any injuries. his arms wrapped around you tightly, slightly massaging your love handles.

when his lips would be mere inches away from you, when hed hug you from behind and bury his face into the crook of your neck as you restock on medical supplies.

when he cages you inbetween his arms to help you cook a meal for his other teammates.

when youd catch him staring at your breasts for too long when you were fixing your uniform. when he'd zone out while sucking on his lollipop in your direction conviently. looking at you in the eyes as he licks it, not breaking contact for a minute. and when you'd call him out, you'd hear that damned phrase again.

gosh, you didn't know how much more you could handle! so much attention from a famous baseball player would surely have anyones heart fluttering like the wings of a butterfly! and it wasnt like he was unnatractive either...

kenji was pretty muscular, you could feel each time he hugged you, and you could see them aswell. but thats just an observation! same with noticing how defined his jawline is, and how you wanted to run your finger over it, tracing all of its edges and curves and feeling his smooth skin on our fingertips. just another observation! and how thick his thighs were, just another regular observation! its not like you were trying to see how his lips shimmered under any ounce of light, making them look soft and delectable. observation.

you felt like a pervert, which, to be fair you most likely were. which is why you always hesitated each time hes intimate. were you being a pervert again? or was he flirting with you? what makes it harder is his little pout, that stupid pout he does when he doesnt feel reassured by your answer, backing away from you in concern.

which all leads to why you were doubtful when kenji asked you to visit him at his meet and greet (or something of the sort except instead of fans its reporters) by yourself, you were apprehensive. what if your perveted thoughts messed things up again and made him feel bad? and yet, there you were. standing in the back rooms where he asked you to eet him, hand clutching onto your puse for dear life.

"there you are!" he beamed, jogging towards you. "you were amazing out there kenji!" you smiled, opening your arms as though youre preparing to embrace him. and hed hug you back. hed do his regular spin, face in the crook of your neck, breath sending chills down your spine. hed pull back, hands still on your waist. "did you truly think i was amazing?" he smiled like a kid. you ruffle his hair, as usual. "of course i do! you're always amazing!" you hummed, turning your attention towards your purse to grab a lollipop that you brought for him. a reward, if you will. during this time, you didnt notice how he pulled you in closer, grip on your waist more firm (as if you could escape when he's barely trying regardless).

"here you g-" you halt, his face mere inches away from yours, but thats just the norm! hes always so... oh so close to you! one of his hands leave your waist to grab your hand (the one with the lollipop) and placed on the back of his neck while the other slide lower, closer to the back pocket on your jeans.

"kenji?" you asked hesitantly. this was a case of you being a pervert again, right? it cant be, right? he leaned down to your ear, and barely grazed it before whispering. "are you uncomfortable?" that phrase. that stupid phrase that was practically apart of his daily routine, being muttered again. except instead of an apology, it sounded more like a tease. and you, being you, the predictable respond that hes gotten so used to hearing.

"no."

---

a/n: idk how i feel about the way i wrote the ending but whatever, enjoy!

(part 2 is more detail about the bus scene 2 make up for it)

[bsd-bibliophile]

Happy Birthday Miyazawa Kenji-sensei!

To celebrate Miyazawa Kenji’s birthday here are his top three quotes from my blog:

Quote #3:

"That night, when the moon was near to sinking behind the western mountain range, it peeked its face out just enough from the bank of black clouds to fill the field with a last bit of dull, ashen light. The bare winter trees, the railroad ties, and the utility poles were all fast asleep. Only the sound of what could have been either the far-off blowing of the wind or the gurgling of a brook remained."

- Miyazawa Kenji, “Signal and Signal-less” from Night on the Galactic Railroad and Other Stories from Ihatov

Quote #2:

Be not defeated by the rain, Nor let the wind prove your better. Succumb not to the snows of winter. Nor be bested by the heat of summer.

Be strong in body. Unfettered by desire. Not enticed to anger. Cultivate a quiet joy. Count yourself last in everything. Put others before you. Watch well and listen closely. Hold the learned lessons dear.

A thatch-roof house, in a meadow, nestled in a pine grove’s shade.

A handful of rice, some miso, and a few vegetables to suffice for the day.

If, to the East, a child lies sick: Go forth and nurse him to health. If, to the West, an old lady stands exhausted: Go forth, and relieve her of burden. If, to the South, a man lies dying: Go forth with words of courage to dispel his fear. If, to the North, an argument or fight ensues: Go forth and beg them stop such a waste of effort and of spirit.

In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy. In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.

Stand aloof of the unknowing masses: Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a “Great Man”.

This is my goal, the person I strive to become.

- Miyazawa Kenji, ”Be not Defeated by the Rain”

Quote #1:

You who go through rice paddies in the rain, you who hurry toward leviathan woods, you who walk into the gloom of clouds and mountains, fasten up your raincoat, damn it.

- Miyazawa Kenji, “Traveler” from Miyazawa Kenji: Selections

[saulocept]

a streetcar named desire

pairing: kenji sato/reader

rating: g

summary: “Do you love him?”

You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve in the entirety your life. You know that, of course, know it still, even now.

But now you’re not so sure.

notes: timeline's a little wonky here. set after the film, with a sprinkle of spoilers if you haven't yet watched :)

tags: pining. mostly.

Even now, you’re still not entirely sure how things had ended up this way. You’re not even supposed to be here, staying over at Kenji’s apartment – colder and emptier than his previous one – nursing your glass of wine, listening to him tell you stories about his career, littered, as always, with his theories of kaiju existence in America.

It’s supposed to be a quick visit, just to help him get a feel for his new home, and yet you’re still here, watching as the seconds tick by on the clock, taking a slow sip of your wine as you listen to him ramble on and about something. You’re not entirely paying attention now at this point, especially when he doesn’t sound too sober anymore. Even his topics have become a jumble now, jumping from one to another, without you having to say much.

At this point, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself, but he’s far too adorable to stop. And besides, when’s the last time the two of you have got together like this? As children, you’re both inseparable, talking about anything and everything – no secrets in between. But as adults, you’ve both been terribly busy. Him with his career, and you with yours. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d heard his voice outside of your television, blaring cool and confidently through your speakers, masking the fact that he’s anything but in real life.

With the news of your engagement reaching his ears, he’d promptly told you off through a phone call, refusing to answer any of your calls and ignoring all of your text messages, no matter how times you’d told him you’re sorry.

You know you’re supposed to tell him first; he’s your best friend, after all. Of course, you’re supposed to tell him everything first, every news, no matter how good or bad, long before anyone else. You’d both made that vow since you were children, and yet with everything piling up on your plate: wedding preparations, work demands, you’ve just never had enough time and gradually forgot about it.

At first, you’d been terribly afraid he wouldn’t talk to you again, so you’d flooded his inbox with a bunch of messages, each one an apology, varying the spelling just a tiny bit, so none of them would get flagged as a spam mail. You can’t tell if you’d succeeded; after all, he’d never replied to a single one of them.

At one point, you’d even entertained the idea of flying over to visit him, just to personally apologize, but your upcoming wedding had made that practically impossible.

And then before you knew it, there was a knock on your door, unbidden and unexpected. You’d expected it to be a robbery; in this part of the city, nothing’s impossible, after all, and it was two in the morning – anything could happen, but what you didn’t expect was to see a familiar face, slightly changed but still the same as you remember. Kenji Sato.

Kenji Sato, crashing over at your apartment at two in the morning, exhausted from the flight and slightly tipsy, because yours was the first address he could recall. Or at least, that’s what he’d told you. You’d never got quite the chance to ask him about that, especially when he’d promptly passed out on your couch after roughly a minute of conversation.

He’d left the morning after, quickly finding himself an apartment despite your protests that he could stay with you for as long as he needed.  

And now here you are. Enjoying a drink, conversing with him like there’s nothing’s changed between you. Like old times, when you’re still just college kids sneaking out late at night for impromptu study sessions, and for a midnight snack at the nearest McDonald’s.

But now you’re both older. And something’s changed between you, even if you’re not quite sure what it is yet.

“How long will you stay here for?” you ask, resting your chin against your palm, trying to make conversation. Absently, you watch the lights flicker against the glass table. A new one, not the one from his old apartment. You’ve half the heart to ask him about it: where’d it go, whether he’d sold it or left it be, but stop yourself at the last second. It’s not wise to pick at old wounds, no matter how curious you get. He’d tell you when he’s ready, you tell yourself,

He sits across from you, distant, farther than you’ve ever had him. Was he always this far from you before? Did you just never notice? “Just for the month,” he says, his eyes almost glimmering in the dim light. There’s something else in there – some meaning, some implication, hidden behind the shortness of his response. Just for the duration of your wedding. Nothing else.

“And then you’ll be off again soon.” It’s not a question, but rather a remark. When he’d left a year ago, you’d assumed it had been for good. A permanent decision, one that you would have no say in. He’d told you as much before, on the phone, just a night before his flight. He’d never told you what ultimately pushed him to do it, and you’d never had the heart to ask. Back then, the loss of his mother was a fresh wound, raw and bleeding. But now, it feels like a distant memory, an old scar that lingers about him, a miasma you can’t quite fix, and a ghost he can never get rid of.

“Mm-hm.” He shrugs, leans back against the couch, raising his glass his lips. He takes another sip of his wine. Not an agreement, but not quite the opposite. He looks away after a moment, stares blankly at the wall, lets the silence stretch between you. You follow his gaze, note the lack of pictures, portraits. His old apartment had been more vibrant, colorful, littered with a thousand photos, his childhood trophies arranged in a neat row, dusted and polished every single day. Well taken care of, no doubt by his mother.

And yet this one’s emptier. Duller, more lifeless. Granted, it’s a new apartment, and you’re still helping him arrange his stuff, but it still doesn’t change the overall vibe of the place.

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask all of a sudden, breaking the silence between you. You lean forward, placing your empty wine glass back on the table, staring at him in earnest, watching his face for some kind of reaction. You can’t help but be curious; he seems different somehow, more sullen, melancholic, and you’re not sure why. Is there something he’s not telling you?

He snorts, looks up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing about the corners of his. Familiar, and yet not quite the same. “You’re my best friend. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you’re the last to hear about my engagement?”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” he says, waves his hand dismissively like it’s no big deal, like he didn’t just ignore your texts for a whole week. “I’m busy, you’re busy. We both have stuff to deal with. I get it. It’s all part of life.”

“And yet you’re still childish enough to believe in all those kaiju stuff.” You don’t mean to say it, not really. You know how much he believes in those; even when you were both children, he’d told you all kinds of stories, sketching an incomprehensible doodle at the back of your math notebook when it’s clear you couldn’t understand a word he’s saying.

He narrows his eyes at you, looking almost annoyed. “You want me to ignore you for a week straight again?” There’s no real edge to his voice, there never is, just a playful sharpness that has you biting the inside of your cheek in an attempt to stifle a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” you say, playing along, reaching for your glass and then the bottle of wine, filling your glass just halfway before placing the bottle back on the table. “Please don’t back out of the wedding. You know you’re the only one I can trust there.”

“Maybe I will,” he says, almost tauntingly. His voice drops, grows into a whisper, more serious. “You know I’ve never liked that fiancé of yours.”

You know that, of course. He’s never kept that a secret from you; even back when you and your fiancé had started dating, Kenji’s never failed to voice his disapproval out loud, as though he could somehow get you to change your mind before things are too late. You’ve almost lost count how many times he’d talked shit about him to your face, making fun of everything: from his name (“Sylvester. Really?”); to the way he stands (like he’s one minute away from constipating); to the way he dresses (like his grandmother’s wallpaper).

You shake your head, sigh, take another sip of your drink. “We’re about to get married soon, you know. You can’t just talk shit about him like before.”

“You can still back out now.” He sounds serious, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. You pause, look up at him, searching his face for something. His eyes are dark, his expression opaque. You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, or what he’s feeling, but all you know is that he’s serious about this.

“But I—” you begin, stopping as soon as you realize you’re not entirely sure what you’re going to say. But I love him. It feels like an instinctive response, a kneejerk reaction rather than the truth, something you’re supposed to say instead of something you actually mean. You stare at him for a long time, mouth agape, suddenly at a loss for words.

He doesn’t wait for you to finish, find the right words. “Do you love him?”

You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him; Sylvester’s a good man, a good boyfriend – he never forgets the important dates, the important details. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve. You know that, of course, know it still, even now. At the time, it had been enough.

But now, you’re not so sure. You’ve never really sat down and thought if you truly loved him. You’ve never really had enough time, and confronting the truth of the matter seems more than you bargain for. You’re comfortable with him, yes, but is that enough to call it love?

When he’d knelt down and proposed to you in front of an audience you never quite felt comfortable with, you just said yes. Automatically, instinctively, mostly because that’s what anyone in your position would say. But love’s never been part of the equation. Not when it comes to him, to this.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice jolting you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, he raises his glass to his lips, downs it all in one go. Quickly, he grabs the bottle from the table, fills his glass to the brim, the liquid nearly overflowing. “You know I’m not trying to ruin your wedding.”

“I know.”

He brings his glass closer to yours, gives you a tentative smile. “Peace?”

“Peace.”

You clink your glass to his, then, following his example, you down the liquid in one go.

-

This is a bad idea, objectively so. At the back of your mind, you’re well aware of how terrible it is to stay longer in his apartment, getting drunk out of your mind. You have a meeting in a few hours with your boss and it wouldn’t do well for you to arrive at work with a hungover, or slightly drunk and nursing a headache.

But you can’t help it. And you can never say no to him.

You should’ve stopped after a few glasses. You’ve told yourself you’ll stop after the third one, but for some reason, you’re still here, taking a languid sip of your drink, cringing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. You’re not even sure what you’re drinking now at this point. Vaguely, you’re aware that you’ve emptied all the wine you had a few hours ago, and now you’re drinking something else. Something darker, bitter.

Stronger too, from the looks of it, as evidenced from the buzzing in your head.

Not that Kenji’s faring any better. If anything, he seems even drunker than before, more than you even. He’s lying down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his glass sitting innocently beside him, nearly empty. He’s always been worse at holding his alcohol than you are – having no coach who tells you what you should and shouldn’t do definitely helps with the tolerance, though it’s not a feat you can brag at parties.

“So,” he begins, hiccupping a little, pointing at something you can’t quite see. Slowly, he turns to look at you, raising his head so he can look at you. “You believe in kaiju?”

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. There’s a buzzing in your head, an incoming headache. Maybe you’re getting older and reaching your limit. Or maybe you’re just losing your touch. You sit up straighter, gently rubbing your temples, trying to ease the feeling. “Not real. Didn’t you watch the documentary with me before? The one where they debunked it?”

“What if…” he begins, pauses, hiccupping once more. “What if I told you they’re real?”

You raise an eyebrow, resting your chin against your palm as you stare down at him, watching him in amusement. “And you got proof of that, mister?”

“Yep.” Quickly, he stands up on the floor, swaying a little from side to side. He wobbles to his feet, and he only manages to take a few steps before he’s stumbling about, losing his balance in the process and falling face-first on the floor. With a laugh, you stand up from your seat, helping him up and gently guiding him back into the couch, placing him on the empty space beside you.

“Come on,” you say, laughing. “You’re clearly drunk.”

“Not drunk,” he says, shaking his head. He shifts a little, lays his head on your lap, his feet dangling at the edge of the couch. He stares up at you, his eyes hazy and unfocused, absently taking you in.

You hum under your breath, smiling at him. “Hi.”

He’s quiet, doesn’t say anything. Slowly, he reaches out, touches your cheek. He’s a little clumsy this time; more than a few times, he’s nearly poked your eye out, but there’s a practiced gentleness behind his touch, a muscle memory he can’t quite forget even when his mind is slowed by the alcohol. His palm is rough, callused, no doubt from years of practice, training, littered with scars you’re not quite sure where he got. You take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together, marveling at how perfectly your hands fit even after all these years.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Stop that.”

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence, just to poke fun at him, though you still don’t let go of his hand, enjoying the warmth of his hand against yours. “You’re the one who touched me first.”

He shakes his head, ignores your remark, frees his hand from your grip, lets it rest against his stomach. “I’ve seen kaiju before,” he says, his voice growing softer, quieter.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, eyebrows furrowing a little in thought. “Uh. Huge?”

“Like in the movies?”

He rolls his eyes, looking almost offended. “Those movies suck.”

“You’re the one who told me to watch them!”

“Well, I’m telling you now: they suck.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “What do you mean they suck? You loved them when we were kids!”

“I’m not a kid now, am I?”

“That hasn’t stopped you from acting like one.”

“Very funny.” He turns to glare at you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest not to laugh. A moment of silence settles between you: warmer this time, more comfortable. Familiar. As if all that gap between you has suddenly disappeared, leaving nothing but this old familiarity behind. This is how it’s always been between you, isn’t it?

You’ve missed this, more than you could even think of. You’ve almost forgot how it feels like: the casualty of his affection, the warmth of his touch. How you fit perfectly together, like complementary puzzle pieces. Like two halves of the same soul.

Instinctively, you lean in, reaching out to brush a stray strand away from his face. This close, you could see every little detail on his face: the dark circles beneath his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows. The fullness of his lips. How soft they are from this distance.

You’re not sure what possessed you to do it, but you’re doing it long before you could think twice. Curiously, you run a finger along his lower lip, gently tracing the outline; it’s a little chapped, though nothing too bad. Maybe you should buy him a chapstick as a present?

Just as quickly as that thought crosses your mind, you pull back, jolting your hand away from him as though you’ve been burned. He stares at you, his eyes dark, his expression suddenly unreadable. You bite your lip, looking almost ashamed. “Sorry—”

He doesn’t let you finish. Without warning, he reaches out, grips your wrist with one hand, pulling you just the slightest bit closer. This time, he meets your gaze head-on. “Don’t marry him.”

“I—what?” you ask, blinking at him a few times, looking a little uncertain. Gently, you try to shake your hand free from his grip. He lets you go easily enough, and you’re not entirely sure why it leaves you feeling cold, empty. “Ken, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer your question, doesn’t say anything for a long time, his expression still as opaque as ever, unreadable. You stare back at him, eyebrows furrowing a little in concern. “You’re not sick, are you?” you ask, frowning; slowly, you lean in, placing your hand against his forehead, trying to get a feel for his temperature.

He’s a little warm beneath your touch, though you can’t quite tell if it’s from a fever or it’s simply from the alcohol. You sigh, shaking your head, staring at him worriedly. “I told you drinking’s a bad idea.”

He snorts, as though in amusement, then leans away from your touch. “You know what I wish for every night?” he asks, his voice growing softer, quieter that you have to lean close to hear.

“What?”

“For that fiancé of yours to get eaten by a kaiju.”

A nervous laugh escapes you, forced and awkward. “Come on, Ken,” you say, poking him a little at the cheek, trying to catch his attention. “You know that’s a childish thing to say. I know you never liked him, but you can’t really wish for that.”

“Can’t I?” He meets your eyes then, his expression serious. He doesn’t seem drunk this time, only honest.

“Of course not,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re supposed to wish us well, you know. And be happy about it.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.” He sounds almost sulky now, childishly so, like a kid who hasn’t been given a candy. You’d laugh at the sight if it isn’t so ridiculous.

“Are you serious?” you ask, voice growing louder, taking on a higher-pitch. You rub your temples soothingly with the pads of your fingers, trying to soothe the incoming headache. “Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean—”

He frowns, cuts you off before you can say the rest of your words. “You don’t understand.”

You give him a level look. “Then make me understand.”

“I—” he begins, stops. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops, hesitating. With a sigh, he shakes his head, looks away. “Never mind,” he says, and his voice is colder now, unfamiliar. He glances at the clock, at the flashing red numbers on the screen. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”

And just like that, the veil is back once more, the distance between you growing farther and farther. Slowly, you stand up from the couch, untangling yourself from him in the process. A hollow feeling follows you afterward, lingers around you as you stumble about in his apartment, trying to find your belongings: your coat hanging on the makeshift rack at the door; your shoes at the doorway.

Quietly, you slip out of his apartment, locking the door behind you, teeth chattering from the cold wind that breezes past you. By the time morning comes around, he’ll forget about this – hopefully – and everything will be alright between you. But for now, you’ll go back to your apartment, grab a bottle of wine from the shelf, and drink yourself to oblivion.

At least until you manage to stop thinking about everything.

[cyberkitty1]

Ken sato brainrot is real and im here for that, i saw that request are open, and i want to make one if thats okay? Bassically hcs o of kenji with a high school friend reader that is a very shy/meek person, they where inseparable as kids and kenji was always very protective of reader, even in their high school years when reader started dating a very cuestionable guy that ended up being a cheater with her toxic ex best friend(that send her a lot of hatefull texts and calls with threats and slut shaming comments bc she wanted to date her boyfriend), due this reader moved on to japan when she and kenji where teenagers and they keep contact by texts and zoom calls.

When kenji comes to japan is determinate to make reader officially his girl, it can include headcanons of them as a couple!

If this is to much you are free to not do this request! I dont wanna bother you

hey babes! not too much at all!! i havnt been active at all lately and quite frankly i don’t want to work on my long fic so this will be my break! ^^ and sorry i did tweak it a little im sorry 😞

warning: lowercase intended, slightly proofread!

- your moms were great friends and throughout their pregnancies hung out with each other day in and day out.

- he was older by about 2-3 months. from the moment you were born you guys could not be taken apart. you bathed together, ate together, took naps together when i say everything i mean everything! you both urged to have birthdays together at some point.

- you both had so much love for either obviously not in a romantic way, but in a way that just being in eachothers presence is enough.

- once he knew he wanted to do baseball you’d practice with him for fun, granted he was lightyears ahead of you in technique he still likes tossing it back and forth and talking about drama in your classes.

- as you both got older you did find out your interests but that didn’t tarnish your relationship considering you had multiple classes together plus lunch plus going to and from school together.

- that is until you get a boyfriend. one of kens teammates. he was notorious for being with half the girls in your grade. you had a very small friend group but you knew who he was, but alas you still fell for him. 

- you were together for about 4 months ken felt as if it were an eternity, time and time again he tells you his dating history and each time you’d hush him giving him and give horrible excuses.

- things were going ok up until you saw him acting a bit different, you weren’t one to meddle in others business but you knew he was hiding something. you check his phone and see a plethora of text messages and call logs of him and another girl he told you at the beginning “not to worry about”.

- the only person you could think of to offer you comfort is ken. walking if not running to his house a little under a mile away. he answers the door seeing you in your disheveled state and already knows what has happened.

- he could only hug you and listen to you sob. after about an hour you explain and he listens using tissues to get your tears and letting you blow your nose. you ended up staying the night having his mom call yours and let her know.

- by the next day you were feeling better but your eyes were so swollen your parents let you stay home, of course ken begged his parents to let him stay as well but he did have a test and practice so they ultimately refused.

- of course after ending all his tasks he made his way to your house to see you, you were still sad but a weight felt lifted off your shoulders. he was able to distract you further making you forget what you were sad about in the first place.

- once you were done with highschool you both move on to bigger and better things him continuing to pursue baseball and you going into nursing. at this point it’s the only thing you’re putting your energy into considering you lost contact with all friends in high school.

- but in college you were still working in groups with others so you didn’t mind too much and while you were living your life obviously he was too, getting scouted and making his dream team honestly doing everything he had wanted to do.

- another time skip, you’ve graduated officially but getting your doctorate is in the picture. he’s still doing baseball, you guys dont really talk anymore and he really really doesn’t like it. but he doesn’t know what to do, how to fix it. he really misses how things were and deeply loves you and can only reminisce on everything that you guys have done together.

- that is until after a battle he ends up at your doorstep not battered but still a bit hurt, all he could do during the fight was think of you, this was his breaking point.

PART 2

AYYYY 2 IN 1 DAY

AHHHH STORY TIME NEXT POST IS LIKE STORY PORTION

[reckless-rider]

Alright I'm gonna make a bsd au at some point I just gotta think abt it

I'm rereading the Maze Runner and what if tachigin au???

[floof-ghostie]

I think it's hilarious that Ultraman Rising's animation team gives us shots of Kenji looking hot, to the point of animating his muscles in excruciating detail, but at the same time, recognizes that it's a childrens movie, so when it comes to the bath scene, instead of him nursing a beer, he's just holding a can of coconut juice. Because they can show us his toned muscles all they want, but god forbid they show him drinking alcohol. Think of the children and all that.