#Step-by-step sushi guide

[anielskaaniela]

How Much Sushi Rice Per Roll Perfect Sushi Every Time

In this post , you will learn how much sushi rice you need per a roll to make perfect sushi every time . Check out my japanese products [here]. Making sushi at home is such a fun experience! Whether you’re rolling up sushi rolls, shaping nigiri, or putting together a poke bowl, the secret to restaurant-quality sushi is all in the rice. Get it right, and you’re golden. But if there’s too much…

[thebloggerman]

How to Make Homemade Sushi Rolls at Home: A Step-by-Step Guide

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[unabashegirl]

Fragments 2 — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone! I've been holding the final part bc I feel like you are all going to hate me or love me for the ending and I am scared! Please don't hate me! I hope you enjoy!

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots like The Cover and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count: 3.9K

--------------------------------

The kitchen filled with the gentle sound of slicing knives and the rhythmic motions of rice being pressed into nori. The chef’s voice was calm and patient as he guided them through the process, but Y/N and Harry remained mostly silent, their focus turned inward as they worked. The only other sound was the soft, traditional music playing in the background, adding to the atmosphere of quiet reflection.

Y/N carefully rolled the sushi, her movements precise as she tried to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel Harry’s presence beside her, his silent focus mirroring her own. They moved in tandem, following the chef’s instructions, but there was a tension in the air, a heaviness that neither could ignore.

When the last roll was finally placed on the bamboo mat, the chef stepped back with a satisfied smile. “Very well done,” he praised, nodding to both of them. “You have a natural talent for this.”

Y/N gave a small, polite smile in return, glancing at Harry who nodded in agreement, though his eyes seemed distant. The chef clapped his hands together lightly, signaling the end of the lesson.

“I will leave you both to enjoy the fruits of your labor,” the chef said warmly. “Please, take your time. It has been an honor to teach you.”

With that, he bowed and quietly excused himself from the room, leaving them alone with their carefully crafted sushi rolls.

Y/N stood there for a moment, her eyes lingering on the perfectly arranged sushi before them. The silence that followed the chef’s departure felt louder, more suffocating. She could feel the weight of unsaid words pressing down on her, but she wasn’t sure how to break through the barrier that had formed between them.

Harry was the first to move, picking up a pair of chopsticks and carefully selecting a piece of sushi. He looked at her then, his gaze searching, as if trying to find something in her expression. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of uncertainty.

Y/N nodded, reaching for her own chopsticks, but her hands trembled slightly as she did. She felt his eyes on her, watching, waiting for something—maybe for her to say the words that neither of them had yet found the courage to speak.

They ate in silence, the sushi as perfect as the chef had promised, but it was difficult to enjoy it with the thick tension in the air. The music played on, soothing and distant, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

The silence between them grew unbearable, stretching out like an unspoken challenge neither of them wanted to confront. Harry set down his chopsticks, the clatter against the plate louder than it should have been in the quiet room. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers rubbing at his temples as if trying to ease away the tension that had built up over the course of the afternoon.

Y/N noticed his sudden stillness, her heart rate quickening as she sensed the shift in the atmosphere. She watched him, her chopsticks frozen in mid-air, her breath catching as she waited for him to speak. There was something in his eyes—something dark, conflicted—that made her stomach churn with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Harry finally met her gaze, his eyes filled with a depth of sorrow that she hadn’t seen before. His voice, when he spoke, was strained, as if the words were being torn from somewhere deep inside him. “I guess it’s time to tell you”

She blinked, her chest tightening at the seriousness in his tone. “What is it?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table. “The reason I distanced myself,” he began, his voice cracking with the weight of what he was about to confess, “was because I… I did something.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What do you mean?” she whispered, dread settling in her stomach.

Harry looked away, his jaw clenched as if he could barely bring himself to continue. “I cheated on you,” he finally admitted, his words laced with a deep, agonizing guilt. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. And when I realized what I’d done… I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t look you in the eyes knowing how much I’d hurt you.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath Y/N’s feet, the shock of his confession hitting her like a physical blow. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last as she struggled to process his words. She could barely breathe, the pain in her chest so intense that she thought it might suffocate her.

“You… you cheated on me?” she repeated, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and raw, searing hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just pushed me away?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you more than I already had,” Harry confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I thought if I distanced myself, if I just… distanced myself, it would be easier for you. That maybe you could hate me and move on, without having to see my face and be reminded of what I did.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision as the reality of his betrayal settled in. “So instead of being honest with me, you let me believe it was something else—something I did wrong?” she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “You let me think I wasn’t enough for you?”

Harry winced, the guilt in his eyes deepening as he heard the pain in her voice. “I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I made it worse by not telling you. But I was scared. I was a coward.”

Y/N’s hands shook as she wiped away the tears that had started to fall, her heart breaking all over again as she realized how deeply he had hurt her. “You should have told me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You should have let me decide how to feel, how to move on. Instead, you just… left me in the dark.”

She walked through the living room, her steps light and tentative as if trying not to disturb the heavy silence that hung between her and Harry. He was seated on the large, plush sofa, a thick blanket draped over his legs as he stared intently at the flickering screen of his laptop. His eyes were focused, but his posture was rigid, every line of his body radiating a cold detachment that Y/N found hard to ignore.

“H,” she began softly, her voice breaking the silence like a tentative knock on a closed door. “I was thinking of making some hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

Harry didn’t look up from his laptop, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. “No, thanks,” he replied curtly, his voice devoid of warmth. “I’m busy.”

Y/N’s heart sank at his response, but she tried to keep her tone upbeat, forcing a small smile as she turned towards the kitchen. “Okay, Just let me know if you change your mind.”

She busied herself with the cocoa, the rhythmic sound of the milk heating and the clinking of the spoon against the mug providing a small, soothing distraction. She could hear Harry’s muffled voice as he spoke into his phone, his words barely audible over the hum of the appliances. The conversation was brief, and when he hung up, he remained seated, his focus returning to the laptop.

As Y/N walked back into the living room with her steaming mug, she hesitated for a moment before taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa. She tried to find a comfortable position, but the distance between them felt insurmountable.

Harry,” she said after a few minutes, her voice trembling slightly as she attempted to bridge the gap. “Can we talk? I feel like we haven’t really spent any time together lately. So, I was planning perhaps we could spend the weekend at my parents cabin outside of the city. I’ve already asked for the keys”.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression impassive. “I can’t this weekend,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve got a lot on my plate. Maybe later.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, but she nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Alright”.

She took a sip of her cocoa, the warmth of the drink contrasting sharply with the chill she felt in the room. The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the soft clacking of Harry’s keyboard and the occasional rustle of his papers. Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart aching as she saw the man she loved becoming more and more distant.

Time passed slowly, each minute dragging as Y/N tried to fill the silence with small, meaningless activities—flipping through a magazine, tidying up the living room, adjusting the throw pillows on the sofa. She would glance at Harry every now and then, hoping to catch his eye, to see a sign of the warmth they once shared. But each time, she was met with a cold, unfeeling stare.

Eventually, she stood up, unable to bear the distance any longer. She walked to the window, looking out at the city lights that seemed so distant and unreachable. Her reflection in the glass was a stark reminder of how far apart they had grown, and the sight of her own lonely figure only deepened her sense of isolation.

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “Harry,” she said softly, her voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. “I know things have been hard lately, but I miss us”.

Harry’s eyes opened slowly, and he looked at her with a mixture of fatigue and frustration. “I don’t know if we can fix this,” he said quietly.

The sadness in his voice cut through Y/N like a knife, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. “But I’m willing to try. For us”.

Harry looked at her, and for a moment, she got a glimpse of his old self. But then, he closed his eyes and pulled away slightly, the emotional distance between them reasserting itself. “I don’t know if I can,” he said softly.

“I know,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. “I was wrong, and I’m so sorry. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I need you to know that it meant nothing. It was a mistake—a stupid, drunken mistake—and it never changed how much I loved you.”

Y/N shook her head, the ache in her chest almost unbearable. “But it did change things, Harry. It changed everything. You broke us… and you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes filled with tears, the sight of her in so much pain almost too much for him to bear. He reached out, wanting to comfort her, but Y/N flinched away, the hurt too fresh, too raw.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she pulled back. “You don’t get to touch me, not after this.”

The rejection hit Harry like a punch to the gut, but he knew he deserved it. He had made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice barely holding together. “I wish I could take it back. I wish I could undo everything and go back to the way things were.”

But Y/N could only shake her head, the tears streaming down her face as the reality of their situation sank in. The man she had loved so deeply, the man she had trusted with her heart, had betrayed her in the worst possible way. And now, there was nothing left but the broken pieces of what they once had.

Y/N sat there, tears streaming down her face as she tried to come to terms with the bombshell Harry had just dropped on her. Every part of her wanted to scream, to throw the pain back in his face, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt he had caused her. But all she could do was sit there, numb and hollow, as the man she once loved shattered everything she thought she knew about their relationship.

Harry’s own tears were falling now, silent and slow, as he watched her break before his eyes. He had expected anger, yelling, even hatred—but this quiet devastation was worse. It was the kind of pain that didn’t have an outlet, that didn’t have a voice. It just lingered, suffocating them both in its grip.

“Say something,” Harry finally whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. “Please, Y/N… anything.”

But what was there to say? What words could possibly convey the depth of the betrayal she felt? Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and saw a man who was just as broken as she was. The realization hit her like a tidal wave—he was drowning in his own regret, but that didn’t make what he did any less unforgivable.

“You want me to say something?” she finally replied, her voice eerily calm despite the chaos inside her. “Fine. I loved you, Harry. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. I would have done anything for you, given you everything. And you threw it all away for… what? For a night of wild sex?”

Harry flinched at her words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. “It wasn’t worth it,” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know that now. But at the time, I was just… lost. I was struggling with the pressure, the expectations, and I messed up. And I hate myself for it every single day.”

“Good,” Y/N said sharply, her eyes blazing with the anger she had been holding back. “You should hate yourself. Because you didn’t just hurt me—you destroyed me. You made me question everything, made me question if you ever loved me”.

Her words sliced through Harry like a knife, each one cutting deeper than the last. “I loved you.” he whispered desperately. “I love you. I was the one who wasn’t enough. I was weak, and I let my insecurities and fears ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster now, the anger and heartbreak swirling together in a storm she couldn’t control. “You should have come to me,” she cried, her voice breaking. “You should have trusted me, talked to me, instead of turning to someone else. We could have figured it out together, Harry. But you made that impossible.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I hate myself for that, too. But I can’t change what happened, no matter how much I want to. All I can do now is tell you the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart splintering with each word he spoke. “Forgive you?” she repeated, her voice hollow. “How am I supposed to forgive you when you’ve taken everything from me? You were my safe place, my home… and now, I don’t even know who you are.”

She glanced around the small entryway, her eyes lingering on the few personal items she had packed—clothes, a few cherished mementos, and the essentials she needed to start a new chapter.

The decision had been a long time coming, but today, she had reached her breaking point. She had given everything she had to make their relationship work, to bridge the emotional chasm that had grown between them, but Harry’s coldness and distance had eroded her hope. She was tired of fighting alone, tired of trying to hold onto something that felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

She had just finished dragging her suitcase down the stairs when she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Her heart sank as she realized that Harry had returned from the studio earlier than expected. The footsteps grew louder, and she braced herself for the confrontation she had been dreading.

Harry stepped into the hallway, his face lighting up with a mixture of relief and exhaustion as he saw her. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of surprise. “Going on a trip?”

The sight of him, looking worn out from a long day at the studio, only served to amplify the emotional storm inside her. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. "I'm leaving.”

Harry’s expression shifted from confusion to alarm. “Leaving? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

Y/N reached for her suitcase and gave it a resolute tug. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of fighting, tired of trying to make things work when it feels like I’m the only one putting in any effort.”

Harry’s face fell, his exhaustion giving way to a wave of panic. “Y/N, wait. Can we talk about this? Please?”

She shook her head, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. “I’ve tried, Harry. I’ve tried to make us work, to be the person you need. But I’m exhausted. I deserve to be loved, to be with someone who truly wants to be with me”.

Harry’s eyes widened with hurt and confusion. “Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Y/N took a step back, the weight of her decision pressing heavily on her shoulders. “I’ve heard all the explanations I need,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “The truth is, I’m done trying to fix something that feels broken beyond repair. I’ve given everything I have, and I just… I can’t keep doing this.”

She reached for the handle of her suitcase, her hands trembling slightly. “I just want to be loved, Harry. I want to be with someone who sees me and values me for who I am. And right now, that isn’t you.”

Harry’s face contorted with anguish, the pain of her words cutting deeply. “Y/N, please don’t do this,” he pleaded, stepping closer but stopping when he saw the resolute look in her eyes.

Y/N took a deep breath, her resolved unwavering. “I can’t stay here and keep hoping for something that may never change.”

She turned to leave, but Harry reached out, grabbing her arm gently. “Just give me one more chance,” he begged, his voice filled with desperation.

Y/N looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his tear-streaked face and the raw emotion in his eyes. “I deserve more” .

With that, she pulled her arm free, her heart aching as she walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Every step felt like a small victory and a deep loss at the same time. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she took one last look at the building, at the life she was leaving behind, and then stepped out into the evening air.

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the air thick with the unspoken question hanging between them. Y/N could see the desperation in Harry’s eyes, the plea for a second chance, but all she could feel was the overwhelming ache in her chest, the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to hold herself together. “I don’t know if I can ever look at you and not resent you for it”.

Harry’s face crumpled at her words, the pain in his eyes almost too much to bear. “I understand,” he said softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I won’t ask you to make any decisions. I just needed you to know the truth. I’ll accept it even if it means letting you go again.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, a bitter reminder of how far they had fallen from the love they once shared. Y/N looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer, the tears blurring her vision as the reality of their situation crashed down around her.

In that moment, the sushi on the table, the music playing softly in the background, the cozy warmth of the restaurant—none of it mattered. All that existed was the chasm between them, the deep, irreparable wound that no amount of apologies or regret could ever heal.

She stood up from the table, her movements slow and deliberate as she gathered her things. Harry stood up as well, his face pale and stricken with anguish. “I know that I am supposed to let you go. But please don’t go” he begged, his voice cracking. “I can’t lose you again”. Harry had hoped that this time around things would’ve ended different than that day at the apartment. However, it seemed like he was reliving it.

Y/N took a deep breath, the finality of her decision weighing heavily on her. “I can’t” her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. You have to let me go”. She walked towards the restaurant’s exit, her heart heavy with the sadness of the parting. As she reached the door, she turned to look back at Harry one last time, her eyes filled with sorrow and a lingering love that could never be fully extinguished. “Bye H”

Harry watched her, his own tears falling freely now. The pain of her leaving was evident in every line of his face, but he made no move to stop her, knowing deep down that he had lost her.

Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, the city lights casting a gentle glow that only served to highlight the deep darkness she felt within. She paused for a moment, looking back at the restaurant where they had just shared their final, heart-wrenching conversation. Despite the sadness that still clung to her, a part of her felt unexpectedly lighter.

The weight of the past seemed to lift from her shoulders, replaced by a newfound clarity. She realized, with painful but liberating honesty, that her worth was never in question—it was never about her. She had finally found the closure she had so desperately sought. As she walked away, she felt a quiet confidence settle within her. She knew now that she deserved to be loved deeply and genuinely, and that there was someone out there who would truly appreciate her for who she was.

As she disappeared into the horizon, Harry stood alone in the doorway, the ache of her absence a stark reminder of the love that had slipped through his fingers. Of the only person that loved him with honesty.

part 1

[dietmtdewbabynewyorkcity]

HOW I’VE BEEN SUCESSFULLY LOSING WEIGHT: Notes from a former binge eater ♥️

*this guide is to show how ~I~ do things and offer advice on how to do it MY way. I am in no way encouraging anyone to do themselves harm. First off,

HEALTH IS WEALTH.

That being said.. this is literally the longest I’ve ever gone without bingeing. It’s just,,, easy this time. Once you get a feel of what it’s like to be skinny you just don’t crave junk as much anymore bc you KNOW it’s not worth it. The trick is to eat clean 90% of the time and allow your favorite treats 10% do the time. Fit them into your calorie limit!!! Here’s some personal favorites that have helped me lose like 20lbs in the past 2 months.

I tend to do one higher- calorie drink during the day (protein shake, Starbucks, etc) and one healthy filling but low cal meal and a sweet snack at the end of the night.

LOW CALORIE 90%

Mediterranean salad (~150): mixed greens, chopped bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, red onion. Little bit of feta cheese. Balsamic vinegar (not dressing or vinegarette!!!!) I don’t add meat but you could totally add chicken for low cal high protein choice. You could also add olives but I don’t fw them.

Chocolate Protein shakes from the gas station (loll). They’re 220 cal on average and a great treat. Strawberry one is good too.

SEAWEED SNACKS they’re literally 30-60 calories for a pack and kill my urge to eat chips!!! Please give them a try!

Soups. Soups that are already portioned and have the calorie amount posted. I add extra seasonings and spice to boost metabolism.

Coffee!! With almond milk and a little coffee creamer. It’s worth the calories if you want a coffee just make one it’s better than going to Starbucks.

Sushi: I’m vegetarian so I get an avocado and cucumber roll. It’s so good with fresh ginger and a little soy sauce. Sometimes I will be craving it allllllll day and have it as my OMAD so rewarding 🥹

Miso soup>>>>>> add tofu and seaweed and onions!! And mushrooms if you like them.

Monster Ultra energy drinks,,,, yeah I know they’re bad for you but I love them.

Fruits!!! I especially love strawberries, watermelon, cherries, blackberries, pineapple and mangoes.

TREATS 10%

Trail mix: dried cherries, pecans, walnuts, pistachios, cashews. High in calories but perfect for killing hunger. High protein keeps you full and muscles strong, high healthy fats will keep your hair and skin and nails beautiful.

Chocolates: SMALL PORTIONS. if you can’t eat just eat a piece without bingeing, do NOT buy a big bag. what I do is I buy a bar of whatever chocolate I’m craving for my bf and we share it piece by piece. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white, hazelnut, with coffee beans, with toffee, fruits, chocolate is the best thing ever 🍫

Starbucks! My fav drinks are matcha lattes (hot/iced), iced white chocolate mocha, caramel macchiato, and occasionally a pumpkin spice latte. Peppermint mochas on the holidays. Oat milk always

Baked goods. Same deal as the chocolate, ONLY BUY THE PORTION YOURE GOING TO EAT. If you have been craving a croissant, go get one. One. Don’t buy a whole dozen of them. You will end up bingeing trust me. My favs are cinnamon rolls <3

Habits

I’m going to the gym!!! Consistently for the first time in my life. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. Spend 30 min on the treadmill alternating between incline walking and easy paced jogging. Put on a YouTube video. Wear pink and bring a cute water bottle. You have to make an experience out of it! I stick to cardio and full body stretches plus ocasional (light) strength workouts w my bf.

I don’t drink anymore. Just 🍃. Alc is so high in sugar and carbs and it’s literally poison bro. I know it’s hard to stop but once you do you’ll feel so much better.

I rarely weigh myself. I’m at my bfs house all the time so I only step on my scale maybe 3 times a month. It’s been a game changer!!!

MINDSET

I practice mindfulness and speak kindly to myself. Basically sweetspo + affirmations to myself all the time.

Taking more pride in your appearance will also help motivate you. You think you’ll still want to binge after you took a full body shower, clean PJ’s or outfit, painted your nails, skincare and makeup done, whitened your teeth and lit a candle? No thanks.

Limit stupid, negative, useless media consumption. Watch things that have to do with your hobbies/ interests and your social media algorithms begin to kinda clean themselves up over time. My pages are all about exercise, study blogs, beauty tips and sciencey stuff. No more drama or celebrity nonsense. Cut down your following!!

Remember you only have one life on earth. You’re young and hot once. Don’t you want to grab this chance while you have it? Unfortunately your beauty is your currency especially as a woman, so if there’s anything I can do to give myself a better life I will. Losing just a few pounds of fat will make the craziest difference in ways you’d never expect. Free and discounted stuff. More people smile at you and listen to what you have to say. Both literal and figurative doors will be opened for you.Clothes fit better bc they’re more flattering when your body is fit and healthy. While it feels good to get validation from other people, the best part of it is looking in the mirror and feeling proud instead of ashamed. The inner confidence that comes from successful transformation………….there’s no other feeling that compares. If you know, you know. I’m just saying,, the choice is yours 🤷🏼‍♀️

[appleblueberry-pie]

Can can… we reject yan gojo? I actually deeply need it. *shakes head* My spirit guides told me it’s beneficial to my life’s journey. Him just being so down bad and we could never. Gojo is not our type. He’s tall but we aren’t compatible. I want angst, despair, his tears, pleads. Desperation. This would be even juicier if it’s based in like school because now he’s going to have to live out his adult life hoping 😔

This felt more like a regular teenage confession gone wrong.

I imagine waking up to him being at your dorm room door confessing, haha.

You've been up on your phone for like 20 minutes, but it's still extremely early. You're in your pj's and you drag yourself to the door, and he's there in the same state, a guilty smile on his face. You both knew it would happen sooner or later though. Lately, he's been staring at you as if he's gonna explode if he doesn't talk to you. You tried to avoid him, but here he is now.

"Hey, I just.......can I tell you something real quick?" Hands in his pocket as he speaks. You sigh and shrug. ".....Just say it. I don't care."

The things he planned on saying wasn't something that should elicit an "i don't care". He knows you'll turn him down. He lets out a shaky breath before finally rambling.

"I just wanted to say that I have been feeling differently about you lately. Like, I really love to spend time with you and talk with you, it just makes my day whenever you're around-" It felt so unnatural now that he was saying it out loud. And your face was beginning to change into a not-so-good look. "You always talk to me, make me feel included, you just do everything so nicely, I can't like...look away from you sometimes because you're so bright. I just.....I feel like I can be myself when you're there, and I just wanted to say that I feel really attracted to you, and I am in love with you."

"..........................."

He wasn't sure what face you were making. It looked like you wanted to pull a neutral face, but you were also simultaneously surprised and confused and frustrated. He doesn't know. You were still and weren't speaking and he felt like he was going to throw up. So, he kept talking.

"I can't ignore how I feel about you anymore. I wanted to, like, leave you alone, but you taught me to not ignore my feelings and always tell someone about them, so here I am. I don't know if you feel the same way," You didn't. "But, like, everything about you is fucking amazing and I can't just.....look, please just say something." He awkwardly laughed and shuffled in his spot while you kept staring up at him like he had another head. You didn't say a word. He shuffled his hair and pulled at it anxiously and still kept talking.

"I know what you're thinking......but like please give me a chance." Your lip twitched nervously and you took a very small step back, which he, of course, noticed. "I know! I know I'm being weird right now, it's just, like, I could give you everything you want, you know?? Like, I'll pay for your stuff, I could take you wherever you want to go, you like that one sushi place before right?? I can give you all the attention you want, I could- I could, um.....I could like scare off any guys bothering you, I can drive-" No, he can't. "I'll be so good to you, I promise. Please."

You sigh and shake your head. "Gojo...." "What will it take??? I'll do anything, I just really want to be yours, you understand, right??" He backed up a little to give you space and spoke in a low volume not to alert anyone from their sleep since it was still super early. "You're not my type." You just tell him flat out, but he still tries to find any possibility, which you immediately crushed. "Like, at all, Gojo. I don't want anything that you have in my dream guy. I don't want you and probably never will."

It doesn't make any sense to him at all. He just stands there extremely confused. "........what?" "I don't want you, I'm sorry." And you shut the door.

Words can't even explain how he feels right now. He never thought at all at the possibility that he wasn't even anything close to what you desire in a man at all. It just felt so unreal for that to even be a possibility. Was it his voice? His hair? His face? What the fuck was it? Was he not skinny enough? Does he need to gain weight and muscle? He doesn't even fucking know what your type is because he always thought it would be something like him. Now he's entirely lost. What did all of those lost lives and kidnappings mean if you won't even love him?

He doesn't ever want to force you into anything, but even he doesn't know how far he'll take it. He already has a hard time not killing your ex-friends or people you don't get along with. And he definitely can't stop stalking you anytime soon, there's too much to figure out about you. There's too much time that he's dedicated to just you. And it has to all be for a reason, there fucking has to be. He's not loving you for nothing.......does he have to kill more people? Is he going to have to take you by force? He's lost and doesn't like his options.

"Hm."

[vorfreudevortex]

3. three can keep a secret...

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic // redline masterlist

warnings // 5.8k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, mentions of weapons, mention of a car accident, injuries such as bleeding and broken bones, mention of death

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

the vibes for chapter three

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

takuma’s soft palms securely grip your waist as you wobble and sway. the skate park is empty aside from you two, the setting sun casts a golden filter through the trees and onto his glowing skin. it’s been a few days since he first kissed you. after finally exchanging phone numbers, you’ve been texting every day since, and stealing away time to see him when suguru’s attention is turned towards something else. he’s taken you for breezy late night cruises, let you drive his skyline, and hushed walks through quiet neighborhoods.

but today he treats you to sushi from his mom’s lovely shop, and now a crash course lesson in skateboarding at the secluded park near his home.

“i’m gonna let go!”

“don’t!” you shriek, clamping onto the cotton of his navy blue shirt even tighter.

“i’m kidding,” he giggles. “i won’t let go until you ask me to.”

you jerk back and forth on the worn out wood, trying to tighten your core like takuma told you to, but it does nothing as you struggle to find balance.

“are you bending your knees?”

“i’m trying to,” you whine as he walks beside you, guiding you forward slowly. you finally find a small center of stability, “wait, let go now.”

he steps back as you slowly roll forward, arms flailing and torso contorting as you try to hold the balance you had. takuma doesn’t leave your side. the uneasiness becomes too much for you and you stumble off the board, sending it flying behind you. he’s quick to grab you.

“that was great, you’re making progress!” he grins. you grip his arms.

“that was terrifying!”

“oooh, so when 4 wheels have a supercharged v8, it’s fine” he teases. “but when it’s 3 pounds of wood, it’s terrifying?”

“it’s so not the same!”

takuma laughs before wrapping his strong arms around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. the contact is soft, gentle. you’ve noticed over the past few days that takuma is rowdy and rough when he makes contact with anything except you. when you’re there, his body and voice calms, like a precious glass ornament he’s afraid to break.

“we can be done for the day,” he suggests. “maybe another lesson tomorrow?”

“i can’t,” you pout. “my dad and brother said they have something planned for my birthday.”

“what?!” his eyes widen with alarm. “your birthday?”

“yeah,” you smile sheepishly. “i’m 21 tomorrow.”

“you should’ve said something! oh my god, i didn’t get you anything.”

“i didn’t expect you to,” you giggle. “you don’t need to get me anything, kuma.”

“no, no, no,” he pleads, tightly clinging to you. “i’ll get you something good, promise.”

“you really shouldn’t worry about it—”

“—sshhh,” he hushes you. “and this weekend, we can go out and celebrate at the underground.”

“i’d love that, kuma.”

“good,” another press to your forehead before quickly whipping around and hopping on his board. he pushes off, rolling fast and low as he approaches a ramp. he looks at you with a silly grin and playful eyes— it’s an addicting sight. “now watch this steeze!”

you can’t help but laugh at his goofy behavior as he lifts up from the ramp, the board twirling in the air before he sticks the landing.

it’s not the burning sun that sends warmth through your entire body, it’s takuma.

✰✰✰✰✰

that evening, chopsticks click and clatter around the kotatsu as your little family enjoys a comforting dinner. you, papa, and suguru prattle and laugh over minuscule conversation and steaming rice. but papa finds a lull through the noise, and takes the opportunity to say something that neither you or suguru were expecting.

“i talked to toji fushiguro the other day.”

ah, shit. 

you look at suguru, suguru looks at papa. you know that your brother never told your dad about the tense situation from a few days ago. and you both know that papa is still friends with toji, but assumed that he would keep his mouth shut to him. plus, incidents like that had an unspoken rule to stay unspoken, even to those who were familiar with the scene.

“and how did that go?” suguru responds, his words slow and careful. papa looks at you, his kind eyes suddenly serious. he holds a beer bottle, oil and grease buried deep underneath his fingernails.

“toji says that there’s some people who don’t like that there’s a girl running around and racing.” 

“i haven’t been racing, though,” you’re confused. you already know toji told your papa about the argument suguru had with his son. suguru stays quiet, looking down in his food with his brows furrowed.

“but you’ve been practicing to race,” you dad explains. “apparently, the local car community isn’t exactly excited that you’re here.”

“i’m just visiting,” you tilt your head. “i come here every summer, i think most people in the scene know that.”

“but you’re older now. you shipped out your car, doing mountain passes… getting more involved with suguru’steam.”

“that doesn’t mean anything,” suguru finally says. “who’s saying this?”

“i’m not sure,” papa admits. “but toji seemed concerned about it enough to come and talk to me.”

“and this was after suguru raced his son, right?” you ask.

“yes, but all that’s beside the point.”

“so what is the point?” your brother says, you can tell he’s getting irritated.

“well…” papa clears his throat. “…they don’t want a girl racing around them.”

“why not?” you ask and suguru rolls his eyes.

“it’s not like a girl’s never ran with us,” suguru scoffs. “this is stupid.”

“so, are people, like… mad at me?” you’re still confused. “they know my shelby is faster, they know that suguru’steaching me how to drift, so what? they don’t want the possibility of suguru’s sister being better than them? that’s so childish.”

“i agree,” suguru adds. “this is some bullshit. it’s just fun, my little sister wants to run around with me and race while she’s here for the summer, so she will. it’s not that serious.”

“trust me, i agree as well,” your papa looks anxious, the creases on his face seem more obvious than before. “it’s just that toji suggested that…”

“suggested what?” suguru huffs.

“he suggested that someone might cause trouble if clutch hangs around too much.”

“…is that a fucking threat?”

“i don’t know. but you needed to know, and clutch is old enough now where she should know it, too.”

“alright…,” your fingertips twitch. “so what happens now?”

suguru scarfs down the last of his food and stands up from the table. “i gotta call toru and ken.” your papa reaches over and places a reassuring hand over yours as suguru disappears upstairs.

“i’m sure it’s just talk. you shouldn’t stop having fun while you’re here,” his gentle words help you relax. “i love you, y/n. just be safe and smart when you’re out.”

✰✰✰✰✰

later, when the moon glows through the windows and the house settles into silence, you find yourself knocking on suguru’s bedroom door. you heard him come in earlier from the bar with his friends, and know he would be in bed now.

“come in.”

he lays back on the pillows of his bed with one knee propped up, scrolling on his phone. he only wears a pair of shorts and his long, dark hair is loose over his shoulders. his room is spotless, like always. against one side of the room is his bed and desk, the other a tv and dresser. they walls are covered in a tasteful array of signs and posters, the moonlight almost makes them seem alive. his dark wooden desk is littered with random silver car parts and tools, all clean and neatly aligned. his closet door is ajar, and each shirt is color coded.

you pad over and and he moves to make room for you as you sit beside him. his phone lights up his sleepy face, it’s a tiktok video of a beautiful nissan silvia.

“what’s up?” he smiles lazily, reaching up to wind his fingers through your hair. you slump into his shoulder.

“we never talked the other day.”

“yeah, i’m sorry. i got caught up working on satoru’s car.”

“it’s alright. i’ve already forgiven you.”

“well, i’m still sorry… never should of put you in that position.”

“don’t be,” you laugh. “i put myself there.”

“and i should’ve kept you out.” you sit up, his fingers leave your hair. he looks at you expectantly.

“nii-chan, you’ve never used your gun, right?” your voice is soft. “same with satoru?”

“no,” he looks directly in your eyes, he wouldn’t dare lie to you. “never.”

“okay,” you nod. “but, what about what papa said—”

“—i will if i need to,” he’s quick to respond. “and satoru.”

“i will, too.”

he lifts an eyebrow at your words. “huh?”

“i know how to use a gun,” you admit. “mom has one back home and taught me.”

“why would she get a gun?”

“i dont know,” you shrug. “everyone’s got one. so i guess she didn’t want to be the only one without.”

“you’re not going anywhere near my pistol.”

“i know.”

“seriously, don’t touch it under any circumstances. i don’t care if it's laying around in my car or something,” his voice is suddenly low and urgent. “if i get caught and they find your prints on it, it’s over for you.”

“you’d go to jail, too.”

“and i’ll be the only one going. you’ll have nothing to do with it.”

you’re both quiet for a moment before you ask your next question.

“why did toji fushiguro do that? don’t you think that was so weird?”

“i don’t know, i think just to piss me off some more,” suguru huffs. “either way, it was odd behavior, even from him. it was fucking disrespectful. he doesn’t know you like that so i don’t know why he would try that shit.”

“you still seem really mad about it.”

“because i am,” he sits up and grabs your arm. “that’s why i don’t want you anywhere near ino or any of the shadows. they hang out with some nasty people. fushiguro still does suspicious shit and i know he’s got his son in it too.”

“suspicious how?”

“fushiguro…” he pauses and glances at the bedroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper. “…fushiguro and his kid were the ones to help me get my gun. and i know exactly which nameless yakuza he sourced it from. and that kamo guy, the one with the tattoo on his nose, used to run drugs and other shit for him and toji. they ran around together in a motorcycle gang before they got busted and he came to tokyo.”

choso kamo? no way… he was so quiet and respectful towards you at the club, and he’s friends with takuma, the sweetest one of them all. same with megumi, he seemed so young and easily flustered, there’s not a chance that his own father has him sneaking around the city like that… right?

you want suguru to be lying but you know he isn’t. he’s never lied to you and his intense gaze solidifies his truth.

“you think anyone who willingly runs around with those guys can stay out of trouble? absolutely not. takuma and his boys were the first to get pistols. satoru and i thought the same as mom, we weren’t gonna get tied up someday as the only ones without them.”

“okay, i get it. but what does that mean for me?” you take a breathe. “i don’t wanna get caught in literal crossfire just because i wanna race.”

“you won’t.”

“how can you be sure? if toji fushiguro is this big and bad, i don’t think he’d make empty… threats… like that.”

“clutch, my team is more than just ken and toru,” he reassures. “sure, those two are always around, but the phantoms are bigger than you think. they’re just not around every time we’re out.”

“i kind of figured…”

“people say the phantoms run the streets of tokyo,” he continues. “everyone knows i don’t fool around. there’s a lot that happens when you’re not here. someone would be an idiot if they tried to come after us.”

“what about me?”

“us includes you, silly,” he smirks. “you’re my sister. you could beat most of them in a race after all. as long as you stay close to me, you’ll be alright.”

you can’t help but smile.

“suguru, i wanna be one of the fastest street racers in tokyo,” you admit. “at least while i’m here.”

“i think you’re pretty much there already,” he chuckles. “there’s no other girls who race with us.”

“i mean, even better than the handful of female racers around. i wanna be able to keep up with you.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. and i wanna win a touge pass on mount hakone, too. lots of them.”

“all before the summer ends?” he teases.

“yeah, before the summer ends,” you grin. “and then i’ll mysteriously disappear like i was never here.”

“oooh, kinda like a phantom?” he wears a shit-eating grin and you can’t help but laugh. “it’s late, you better get some sleep for you surprise tomorrow.”

“can you give me a hint?”

he looks up and purses his lips, faking a deep thought. “hmmm. it’s something you’ll never see coming.”

“yeah, i know,” you lightly smack him as he laughs. “that’s what a fucking surprise is.”

“i’m not telling you anything. but it’ll be a proper celebration of your 21st. it’s a big one, you’ll go home and be able to party now.”

“you act like i’ve never had a sip of liquor in my life,” you pull him in for a tight hug. “love you.”

“love you, too.”

you pull away and playfully jab your finger in his nose. “you need a soap opera on your life after the drama you caused the other night. don’t drag me into it again.” he swats your hand away with a grin.

“you shithead. get out of my room.”

at exactly 12:01 am, your phone sings:

takuma ino: happy birthday pretty girl :)

✰✰✰✰✰

your birthday flies by before you know it. papa, suguru, satoru, kento, and shoko wake you up with your favorite breakfast and gifts, including one that your mom mailed to you from back home. your bed is littered new clothes, jewelry, trinkets, and liquor at the end of the morning. suguru makes you play passenger princess in your own mustang for the day while he takes you around the city, while the others all seem to have excuses for why they can’t come spend your birthday with you.

suguru drags you all across tokyo. he takes you shopping, out for lunch, and then coffee when you get sleepy. he pays for your manicure, takes all your instagram photos for you without complaining, and to the sushi boat restaurant you’ve been wanting to visit. it’s not as good as ino family's sushi shop.

you’re exhausted by the time the sun has set, begging your brother to take you home so you can finally spend time with your papa before the night ends.

“your garage remote isn’t working,” suguru says as he fumbles with the buttons, the engine idling just outside the house.

“suguru, this has been the best day ever and i love you so much,” you start. “but i’m about to get real fucking cranky if i’m not in the house in 10 seconds.”

“relax,” he laughs. “go open the door for me and head on upstairs. i’ll pull your car in.”

you’re punching in the code when you hear suguru cut the motor of your mustang. the garage door groans open behind your back as you watch him walk up the driveway toward you.

“i thought you were gonna pull my car in?”

“i would but,” he points behind you. “there’s no room.”

your drowsiness had distracted you from realizing the shop’s lights were on when they shouldn’t have been. you look over your shoulder with wide eyes. suguru’s a fucking liar after all.

the shop is crowded with bodies that shout and holler excitedly when you finally turn around, and in the center sits your papa, satoru, kento, and shoko. between them, however, is a dark, blood red body of metal. there’s not a single scratch on the paint, and the chrome wheels gleam under the bright lights of the garage. the front license plate, brand new and snowy white, reads “CLUTCH”.

“what the fuck…”

“we all pitched in,” suguru slings an arm around your stiff shoulders and holds a key out before you. “still wanna go to bed?”

your life isn’t real. you stand there like an idiot, dumbfounded with your jaw hanging open. this is a movie— no, a dream. no, this is a prank. a sick, sick joke.

“liar,” you finally choke out. “you’re a liar. you’re lying.”

“never,” he says, finally letting a wide grin spread across his face. he pushes you into the garage and past the strangers. “i hope you don’t mind, but everyone here helped pitch in something and wanted to meet you. these are the phantoms…” he opens the driver’s door of the silvia and gently pushes you into the seat. “…and this is the newest phantom’s newest car.”

you’re crying, sobbing, bawling. you’re an absolute blubbering mess. suguru crouches down in the open door as you shakily fumble with the ignition. it roars to life and shakes the walls of the shop. the turbocharged engine sounds so good, so sweet. you wail along with it as you slump over suguru’s shoulders and wet his shirt with your tears.

you can’t stop your tears as your loved ones embrace you, it’s all so much, too much. this was much different than when your mom helped you purchase the mustang, matching whatever amount you saved up from countless hours working as a waitress from her seemingly endless bank account. the time, effort, and love that your family on this side of the world had put in just for you makes you want to burst.

you think about your papa, long hours underneath greasy hoods, meticulously tuning and fixing each motor for each client that rolled into the shop. you think about kento, serious eyes and rough hands toiling away at his side. suguru, who your father also pays for his help, and his hours flipping street cars to sell on the other side of the shop— all three of their automotive technology degrees from college being put to work constantly. shoko’s exhausting 12-hour shifts at the hospital, usually during the late hours of the night. god, even satoru, who probably poured a significant amount of his father’s bank account into this gift to make up for his constant loitering.

the nissan silvia s15 spec-r, used but practically in mint condition with only 2,500 miles on it. a 4-cylinder turbo engine with horsepower up to 250. a 6 speed transmission, of course, and 274 newton-meters of torque. 

it’s fucking beautiful.

it’s yours.

✰✰✰✰✰

it’s deep into the night when suguru, satoru, and shoko step outside for a cigarette. your papa has already gone to bed and the rest of the phantoms are gone. you had made sure to thank each and every one of them before they left. most stayed close during the evening, taking turns watching papa and kento guiding you through the foreign engine and its components. 

it was just you and kento now, gently wiping down the sparkling red paint with soft towels in the peaceful silence of the garage. you sit on the concrete, getting the low corners of the nose while he leans over the hood, carefully erasing any fingerprints and dust.

“it’s quite the ride,” kento says quietly. his eyes droop with exhaustion from running around all day with papa and satoru to get the silvia in time.

“it really is," you smile. "thank you so much again, ken."

“you’ll be cruising along with us now,” he adds. “no need to ride in our passenger seats anymore like you used to.”

you can’t help but giggle, floating high and light through your sleepiness with the liquor and adrenaline of today. you think of all the times you’ve rode shotgun with each of the boys growing up, clutching onto the handles as they’d fly around just to make you shriek with happiness. it almost makes you want to cry, knowing those innocent days have ended, but you blink away the tears.

“i’ll still hop in with you every so often, don’t worry,” but kento doesn’t respond at first, instead he crouches down to your level.

“y/n, you should know that…” his voice is low, barely above a whisper as he pauses to glance at the cracked door. in the second of silence, you can hear your brother’s voice outside. kento’s brown eyes turn back and bore into you with insane intensity.

“…i saw you yesterday.”

he sees the confusion in your face. yesterday? wait—

“with takuma ino.”

fuck.

“…y-you did?” your voice shakes. you internally panic, you don’t know what to say.

“at the skate park, didn’t i?”

oh, he’s got you now. you hesitate in how to respond, but then silently nod your head. you’ve never lied to kento, and you won’t start now.

“i thought so.”

“i’m sorry…” you whisper. your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re afraid kento can hear it. his eyes soften just the slightest bit.

“you didn’t know i live in that area as well, didn’t you?” his question sounds more like a statement. you shake your head, frightful tears forming in your eyes. you can’t even imagine the angry words your brother will chastise you with when he finds out, or worse, the angry fists he'd throw at takuma. “calm down. i’m not going to tell suguru.”

“you’re not?”

“no. it’s not my business.”

he stands up on his feet once more. you swallow harshly, willing the blush on your cheeks and the beating in your chest to calm down. kento has never scared you, but as you look up at his towering stance from the floor, you’re nothing but intimidated.

“but you will tell him when the time is right. and you will be careful around ino and the shadows. do you understand?”

“i understand,” you manage to croak out. you feel like you’re being disciplined by your father, or maybe your high school principle. kento just nods and motions for you to stand up beside him.

“you will also drive safely and responsibly with this new car,” his finger taps the hood. “only your father and i are allowed to tune this engine. if you get in an accident, it will be because of your driving. i will not allow this motor to fail on you under any circumstances whatsoever. if there is even a speck of dust positioned incorrectly on this motor, i will not allow you to race. do you understand?”

“yes, i understand.”

“i know your brother has told you about what happened to yu. i won’t allow anything like that to happen to you,” his face changes ever so slightly, an unreadable expression. your heart skips a beat, you know all about what happened to yu haibara. 

you’ve seen glimpses of the burn marks on kento’s side, the ones from him pulling his childhood friend from a blazing car. yu haibara didn’t stand a chance, he had died in the initial wreck before the engine even caught on fire. kento had crawled out of the passenger seat, bones snapped in half and stabbing through his skin, before crawling back in when he realized yu hadn’t come out yet. bleeding and broken, he had cradled yu’s lifeless body on the touge of mount fuji until help finally came to him. kento has never raced since.

“thank you, ken,” you whisper. you know he's dead serious, he would never say such a thing if he didn't truly and absolutely mean it.

kento pulls you in for a swallowing hug, the musk of his cologne filling your lungs as he wraps you into his chest.

“damn,” you turn at satoru’s teasing voice. “someone take a picture, ken’s showing emotion.”

the trio enters the garage with drowsy faces, reeking of tobacco. kento lets go, you pray they only caught the last part of your conversation.

“all cleaned up, huh?” suguru whistles.

your brother steps between you to lean over and closely inspect the glowing red paint, kento stands stiffly on the other side of him. you glance at him. he has a soft, knowing look in his eyes, and dimples emerge in his cheeks as he puts on gentle smile. you have complete trust in knowing that kento will keep your secret safe as he opens his mouth to speak.

“yeah. all cleaned up.”

✰✰✰✰✰

all week long, you wake up early and stay up late. the boys work with you every day while your papa tinkers alongside you between his own clients. shoko stops by after her shifts for a beer and cigarette to watch the boys work. 

the first engine modifications include a better cold air intake and exhaust, while kento insists that he reprograms the ecu so your throttle response is absolutely perfect. suguru orders brand new coilovers while satoru and your papa lightly argue over which strut and sway bars will be best for you. 

the five of you spend an entire day on new tires and cambers until the angle is exactly the way you want it, and another few days installing a gorgeous wide body kit for the wheels. papa focuses on replacing the stock clutch and gear shifter. kento helps you with the brake calipers and pads. you thought you knew plenty about cars and motors, but each hour you feel like you’re being introduced to a new component or tool that you didn’t know existed. 

at the end of every night, you’re leaning against the shower wall with sleepy eyes trying to scrub the grease and oil from the crevices of your skin and the bed of your fingernails. you’re not sure the dark smell of the motor will ever leave your hair, but you slide into your bed light-headed and happy knowing your family loves you enough to provide so much for you.

you don’t talk to takuma much as week passes, only a few messages here and there. you’re too busy feeling filthy with guilt every time the boys open up a box of brand new parts for your car. but every time you start to say something, someone is shushing you. you know how expensive each part is, and on top of the expense of the car… you feel sick to your stomach just thinking about how many digits follow the dollar sign.

although you’ve taken your new silvia for a few spins, you’re itching to get out to the mountain as the week comes to an end and the car comes closer to completion. it’s all you’ve wanted to do all summer, all you’ve wanted to do for years, and now you finally have your very own vehicle to do so.

the large door of the garage is wide open and the sun is setting, shooting rays of gold into the garage and over the silvia. warm summer breezes sift through the shop. suguru talks you through properly applying a sticker on your back windshield. it’s the same one you’ve seen on all the boys’ cars; a bright white hooded ghost figure with glowing red eyes— a phantom. when you’re finished wiping it down, your brother ruffles your hair and smiles.

“let’s go to mount hakone.”

you truly couldn’t be happier. there’s no races tonight, but there’s still a few scattered cars hanging out around the straight. a few of them take casual passes through the mountain, but nothing high stakes. you recognize a few familiar phantom faces and make sure to take the time to greet them and show them your finished project, thanking them incessantly for helping your family purchase the silvia until they’re practically begging you to stop.

everyone shows respect when suguru announces he wants you to have a turn through alone. they stay back on the shoulder to wait until you come back through again, giving you supportive words as you start warming up the engine. suguru hands you the black helmet from the passenger seat for the nth time.

“where did you even get this?” you ask him as you pull it over your hair. “you’ve never even owned a motorcycle.”

“it’s for your safety,” he reaches over to make sure the chinstrap is tight enough.

“i asked where, not why,” you giggle.

“i don’t even remember. it’s been laying around in my closet for a while.”

“it’s a cool helmet! practically brand new.”

“you’re the only one to wear it.”

you fasten your new seatbelt across your chest, a red racing harness that matches the maroon paint of the silvia. suguru does the same before pulling on your straps once more.

“i got it!” you whine. “it’s tight enough.”

“i just need to be sure,” he settles back in the passenger seat. “let’s run it.”

you press the gas, making the glistening new tires spin in place against the rough concrete until your gut tells you they’re sticky enough. your foot lifts from the brake, and the car is set free. your mind thinks of nothing except redlining the engine and the upcoming turn the entire way through.

your mind has made friends with each bend, rock, and tree along the path. every time you come to mount hakone, your confident builds higher and higher. and with the silvia now in your control, you’re raring to go. each day that passes means your time in japan is getting shorter, and you want— no, need— to get faster.

back at the straight, suguru whistles as you pull the handbrake for the final time and take out the key. the engine stands still and hot, you can hear the faint tick tick ticking under the hood as you tear off the constricting helmet. your hair sticks to your forehead, damp with sweat, as you try and catch your breathe. suguru shows you his phone screen.

8:42:35

it’s nowhere close to suguru’s. although unofficial because of its illegality, all the street racers in tokyo know that your brother holds the fastest time at mount hakone— 6:48:02.

“8 minutes?” you whine, even though it’s a whopping 5 seconds faster than the last pass you completed.

“this is an insanely good time,” suguru chuckles.

“no it’s not! it’s over 2 minutes slower than you.”

“relax, clutch—”

“—and a minute and 40-something seconds slower than toru.”

“you’ve already gotten so much faster since you—”

“—and a minute and 38 seconds slower than kento!”

“cool it,” suguru warns against your rare show of brattiness. “don’t pout about it. this is still faster than a lot of racers around here.

you’re still panting. you unclasp the seatbelt, slouching as your head falls back into the black suede of the headrest and close your eyes.

“you’re right, suguru. i’m sorry,” you say softly. “i’m sorry, i’m just tense from all that. it’s a good time, i know that.”

“don’t apologize, it’s alright,” he reassures. “let’s take a break.”

you pull your car to the shoulder and practically kick open the door to get out. although the icy air you had blasting during the race kept your skin cool, the cool mountain air made you feel as if you could actually breathe again. a handful of phantoms come over to you, complimenting your improving time and suggesting helpful tips while another round of racers loudly speed into the mountains.

a pair of boys your age stand off to the side, listening closely until the others leave. the dark-haired one with sleepy eyes holds a hand out to your brother first. unlike takuma, it seems like he already knows how not to piss suguru off.

“geto-san, nice to meet you,” he smiles. “my name is yuta okkotsu.”

suguru returns his smile and shakes his hand. okkotsu and his friend turn to you with a small bow before he places a hand on the shoulder of the smaller blonde boy wearing a black mask over his mouth and nose.

“this is toge inumaki,” he continues. “he’s mute, but he can hear you just fine.”

“oh, nice to meet you!” you smile.

“inumaki was wondering if you’d like to race tomorrow night, before ino-san and gojo-san,” okkotsu explains with his eyes trained on you. you look back at him but your mind is elsewhere. you didn’t know takuma and satoru were set to race tomorrow.

“uh, me?” you ask. you’re a little surprised, you weren’t expecting someone to approach you first, especially knowing now that people didn’t want you to race. inumaki raises his hands, fingers swimming through the air as he signs to okkotsu.

“if it’s alright with the both of you,” he explains. you can see the raised cheekbones of inumaki’s smile from under his mask. “inumaki just started racing as well, he thought it would be good experience for the both of you.”

“what’s your time?” suguru asks, but he speaks directly to inumaki. the boy’s eyes dart from suguru to okkotsu, nervous that suguru won’t be able to understand him. but he raises his hands anyways, and the slender fingers start to move.

eight. three. nine.

“8 minutes, 39 seconds?” suguru clarifies, inumaki nods. he clearly doesn’t care that the boy can’t speak, he just wants to know how fast he is.

“and what team are you two with?” he asks.

“we aren’t on any team,” okkotsu answers. “we’re pretty new to the scene, we just race for fun. and we don’t race for pinks or money.”

“how old are you two?”

“…17,” the boy smiles sheepishly. your brother chuckles lightly.

“well, how ‘bout it, clutch?” suguru hums. “you wanna race this guy?”

“…can i?” you respond. you’re asking suguru if he thinks you’re ready for a true touge race more than you’re asking for his permission to.

“if you want. i think you’re ready.” you smile at your brother and turn back to the boys. you hope you don’t seem too giddy, but your heart pounds with the anticipation of your first real race.

“let’s do it, inumaki-kun!”

he puts his hand to his chin and out, thank you. then, a fist with his pinky and thumb out with a gentle shake, shaka. you giggle lightly as you mimic his hands.

“but first,” suguru steps forward, towering over the boys. “we’ll do three practice passes right now with the two of you. she’s never gone through with a second car. we’ll take it slow and easy, keep your distance from her.”

inumaki nods and your brother turns to you.

“i’ll ride with you in the first round, but that’s it,” it’s your turn to nod to suguru. “helmet on, clutch. let’s go.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka

comment if you'd like to be added.

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Random highly specific dick grayson fanfics I’ve been craving

An exhausted 18/19 yr old Dick finding Jason trying to steal the wheels off of Nightbird (his car) and instead of reprimanding him he just launches into a really proud rant about his car and how much work he put into her and god kid you got a good eye for parts. I just replaced the tires with ones where the rubber self heals. And none of that commercial crap either, actual self healing rubber that could get a bullet shot through it and still close up a second later. Oh and did you notice the seats? Just polished the leather on em! Go on sit, sit! Comfy, huh? You wanna get a bite to eat? Cool. I think bat burger’s hero-meal comes with a bat-mobile toy. Not as cool as my lovely lady of course, but close enough. Jason is absolutely baffled. This is Nightwing? The one all those new gangs that moved from bludhaven decided facing was worse than fighting for territory in the narrows? Fleeing unsuccessfully might be add considering Nightwing’s presence in gotham. He was so…nice? In that weird slightly off putting way that most of the real good people he knows have.

Dick and Damian both longing for the days where it was just them: Batman and Robin. The best. Dick having a whole moment where he curls around nearly completed adoption papers and sobs because Damian was his. For a year Damian was his to protect, his to guide, his to love. But now they aren’t even in the same city and barely go on patrols together let alone have movie nights cuddled up on the couch (it’s only reasonable Richard. Penguins huddle to conserve body heat). And Damian in the manor staring blankly at his drawing of gotham that Bruce hung up in his office. He didn’t make it for him. He made it for Richard. But what was he supposed to do when Father saw a piece dedicated to “dad” while Damian was flipping through his sketchbook? Tell him it was actually for his oldest son instead of him? Tell him that sometimes Damian wishes bruce never came back so that Richard didn’t have step back from them?

Dick who cooks tons of different cultural dishes within the same meal (like rice and curry served at the same time as sushi and fried plantains) and when questioned about it he’s just like ???? That’s what my mom used to do??? We lived in so many different places it felt weird limiting our food to one culture per meal.

Dick being like Garfield Logan’s big brother long before Jason comes into the mix. Gar frequently turning into a baby elephant just because it makes dick coo over him more than any form. Even a kitten!

[maybe-moonchild]

CHAPTER 6

summary: in which it is the end. oh, what a ride this has been. WC: 6.0k

°｡⋆˚🕷˚⋆｡⋆｡

Later doesn’t come until after you’ve been discharged from the hospital the next evening. 

Since your ‘mugging’ resulted in loss of consciousness, you had to spend the night and morning under observation before discharge papers made their way into your hands. Well, more like into Peter’s hands. After he watched you struggle to hold the clipboard and pen to sign your name, he took over without a word. 

You had to change back into your dress which was less than pleasant. Red tinged the back of the collar from the blow to your head and dirt streaked the front but you don’t really care, not when you’re too busy being wheeled down the hall, out the door, and under the dreary skies to wait for a cab.

Peter is there every step of the way. 

He’s always there, hovering, whether it be sitting beside your bed, helping you into the cab, or opening all of the doors to your apartment, he’s there. His presence isn’t overwhelming considering neither of you are feeling particularly chatty. While you half consciously watch TV, he’s napping with his head in his arms beside you in that shitty hospital chair. When you start to get restless and struggle to find a comfortable position propped against the crappy pillows, he wordlessly adjusts them for you.

The ride back to your apartment is filled with a similar quiet, neither of you knowing what the two of you are. Before today, you hadn’t even been friends. Just two people maneuvering around an awkwardness, one as tangible as the furniture in your entryway as he guides you inside. 

Katies missing presence is apparent the moment you step in the door. Darkness holds the room captive, the only light coming from the windows, even that all gloomy from the weather. A part of you is relieved you might blurt out Peter’s secret to the first person you see, the knowledge settling in your stomach like you swallowed a firecracker. 

Plus, she texted that she’d be home late. Something about having dinner plans and needing you to check her in for a lobotomy in the morning... whatever that meant… 

“All I’m saying is that a 24 hour sushi spot… game changer,” you murmur, earning a sound of amusement from Peter as he shuts the door. Your keys find themselves in their home in the catchall on the table, clattering against the glass a familiar sound of home and you finally feel like you can relax. 

“You’re saying you eat enough sushi at two in the morning to justify that?” 

Your limbs still feel heavy that you don’t protest as he works your coat off your good arm, the other side hangs off your shoulder. 

You just shrug, returning another timid smile as he hangs up your jacket. “I’m just saying that I crave enough sushi at that hour that I could keep them in business.” 

“Okay. No more sushi at three in the morning,” he snorts. Something about the sound almost feeling like a laugh makes you feel a little lighter. 

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks. The way you scrunch up your nose is enough of an answer. After the events of last night, nothing sounds particularly appetizing. You’d eaten at the hospital since you were under watchful eyes, but you were more focused on the prospect of crawling into your own bed. 

You struggle to unlace your shoes with one hand, leaning back against the wall for support. It’s harder than you thought, the laces of your high tops being a struggle only reminds you that, for the next 6-8 weeks, everything is about to be a struggle. 

Without a word, he’s crouching in front of you so he can take over. You let him, head falling back and watching him, pretending you’re not making note of his mouth, how it pinches to the side when he concentrates. His freckles had become less prominent over time, once dusting his cheeks which now were likely in a constant state of bruised. His fingers are gentle as they work out the knot before pulling off your shoe, dropping it to the floor. . 

You tell yourself it's the drugs; that’s why you suddenly wish you had a microscope, magnifying every detail of his face so you could scrutinize each detail about him. That the remnants of drugs from your time in the hospital- who were you kidding? A part of your discharge requirements was that they were wearing off and your pain was managed by over the counter medications. 

Fine, then maybe it's simply because you are still trying to comprehend that Peter is Spider-Man. That you’ll eventually see something that makes it all click into place, making that somehow seem less like a dream. If he said it was all a dream, you might have believed him. 

Your shoes land with a thud beside the door, his hands finding your hips to steady you and himself as he stands. The contact is brief and you feel disappointed in how hard it is not to reach for him. It’s almost embarrassing, how strong of an impulse it is that you barely manage to keep your hands to yourself. 

So you focus on the things you can completely control. 

Change clothes, brush teeth- hell, maybe your hair too- and then right to bed. A shower can wait for morning and you will happily rewash all of your sheets in the afternoon if it means you can crawl under the sheets. 

“I’m okay, you know.” His brows furrow at the unprompted statement, like he can’t believe you would try and convince him of that. Peeking up at him from your lashes, the corner of your mouth turns up in what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I’m just going to head to bed… so… I doubt you got any sleep last night sitting up right in a plastic chair.”

Truthfully, you don’t think he had even tried to rest. You managed to sleep pretty well considering you were partially conscious and partially hopped off the steady stream of whatever drugs were floating around your IV. Each time you stirred throughout the night, you managed to get a glimpse of Peter, his leg bouncing anxiously, either half asleep or fully awake. 

“That would be really great if I believed you.” You frown at him, unsure if he’s talking about you actually saying you’re okay or if you’re going to go to bed when he leaves. 

His shoulders dip in a shrug. “I don’t want to leave.” His tentative smile drops for a moment. “You’re hurt…I feel responsible for it. You should never have been in the place to…,” he adds before lifting his head to look down at you. The words are bitter in his mouth, coated in something that tastes like guilt and shame.

But you also wonder if he hates the idea of being alone as much as you do. 

Except, when you actually think about it, if anyone else were here, you wouldn’t want them hanging around. You realize that it’s less about being alone and more about the crave of his company. 

Specifically, the crave of his presence. 

“You can borrow something of Flash’s,” you say over your shoulder. Peter lifts his head, taking a moment to raise his eyebrows before quickly catching up as you lead him down the hall. Drugs make your steps a little fumbled, Peter's hand hovering behind your lower back like a shadow. 

His mouth twitches into a little frown, “Flash?”

Katie and Flash, the two people had somehow wedged themselves into the spot that had once been his- No, no no. That wasn’t true. They’d trickled into his place when Peter had left it vacant. Through four years of high school and another four  years of undergrad, they stuck around. Katie’s room was just down the hall and Flash crashed enough on your couch to warrant him having a drawer here. 

They stayed with you. They didn’t leave. 

And Peter did. 

They were always there. 

And Peter wasn’t.

Before either of you really think about it, Peter’s moving with a muscle memory he didn’t realize was still ingrained in his limbs. He finds your bedside lamp, flipping it on to bathe the room in the dim light that sends the shadows stretching around your furniture. Then he’s flipping off the overhead light since you’ve always found it to be ugly and harsh. 

As you dig through said drawer of Flash’s, searching one handed for a T-shirt and sweats that will fit him, he opts to hover near the wall. 

“Here, just let me help,” he adds, his voice as his touch as he reaches for you, steadying you by the crook of your arm and your waist. “You. Sit. I’ll be your hands.”

You’re too tired to argue. Instead, you just nod and let him guide you to sit at the edge of your bed. Your pajamas are sitting on your desk chair, a habit you’d had since you were a kid. Peter collects them and sets them in your lap. 

“You can change in the bathroom and I’ll change in here?” 

The two of you go your separate ways so you can strip off your damp clothes in an attempt to escape the vague sterile smell lingering on the fabric.  By the time he’s returned, dark hair messy and arms easily filling out the borrowed T-Shirt so nicely, you’ve managed to get your shorts on.

That's it. 

“I can’t get it off one handed,” you grumble from where you have flopped backward on the mattress, “I can’t actually get the sleeve over my cast with one hand but I can’t use my other hands because it is clearly the problem here.”

That was where you had given up. Your legs dangle off the edge, eyes staring up at the ceiling as you frown. The frustration of  trying to do such a simple task with such a great difficulty had been enough to almost bring you to tears. 

Give yourself a break, you’d had a pretty rough day. 

The corners of Peter’s lips twitch as he slowly shuts your bedroom door. Even though your eyes are still staring flatly at the ceiling, he does his best to hide any sign of amusement on the chance that will send you over the edge and into tears.

“Come here,” Peter says, his voice soft and gentle as he uses one knee to kneel beside you. He pulls you up so you’re sitting upright and you let him, even if you can’t help but sigh dramatically. This was going to be a long six to eight weeks until the hairline fracture in your arm healed entirely. 

You watch him from under your lashes as he bends down. His fingers are delicate and deliberate as he starts to work on shimmying your sleeve around the cast. Your eyes can’t help themselves from flicking at his mouth; his bottom lip rolling under his teeth in concentration, trying to avoid his knuckles accidentally brushing along the skin of your stomach or back

“There,” he says, gently brushing your hair back behind your ear. “There...all set.”

You would mumble more than just a thanks if your brain didn’t feel like it was short circuiting. The sleeves dangle at your sides, arms free from your dress while it is still on in some capacity and you’re not sitting entirely exposed either. 

“You can uh… just… turn around.” There's a long pause and your skin feels so hot you want to die. 

“Instead of leaving the room- if you’re comfortable with that…”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, definitely.” Peter doesn’t hesitate as the words practically spill from his mouth before he is spinning around. “Yeah, I can just- I can’t see anything but, here I can cover my eyes.”

“Pete, you don’t need to cover your eyes-”

“Too late. Already covered.”

You shake your head fondly, feeling like the entire room has taken a breath. 

It might as well have been a lungful of carbon monoxide when you quickly realize that you’ll be changing just a few feet away.

You’re an adult; grow up. 

Clearing your throat, you move gently when you pull off the dress, feeling exposed even if he clearly isn’t looking and he’s humming to pass the time. Peter is humming, facing the opposite direction and rocking back and forth on his feet. At first you think he’s only doing it because he’s trying to make it as apparent as he possibly can that he is not looking. Then you start to wonder if it’s because he’s uncomfortable at the prospect of you changing behind him, just a few feet away. 

Now you feel uncomfortable at the idea that you have now made him uncomfortable. But why would he be uncomfortable over that after last week when you’d slept over? When his mouth was hot and feverish on your neck, distracted in the quest of tasting every inch of skin- you yank the NYU sweatshirt over your head to shut your mind up. 

“You need anything?” he asks after a moment has passed. 

You shake your head before realizing that he can’t see you. “No, but thank you. I’m good, by the way. You can… uh… look now.”

The first thing he does is take your dirty clothes and toss them into your hamper with ease; just so you don’t have to get up. Then, he’s lowering himself behind you and making quick work at freeing your hair from the collar of your sweatshirt as you try to yourself. 

You inhale sharply when he brushes against the back of your neck. 

Fidgeting with the plaster of your cast is a good way to hide part of your face and avoid his eye. Peter’s head is tilted to try and see you anyway before he seems to hesitate, reaching out before pulling his hand back. He must decide to go for it then, inhaling quietly and letting his fingers dance with your own. 

“You’ll have to sign it,” you hum, knocking his knee with your knee to lighten the mood. “Make it look less ugly right?”

It works, a little smile appearing on his mouth before he tries to press his lips together to stifle it. This time when you look up, Peter’s not looking at you. While it looks as though he’s studying your intertwined hands, you know him enough to know he’s staring at the cast and letting his mind runamuck with guilt. 

“It was like when we were ten. When you tried to teach me how to skateboard.” You look down too, but more so that you can remember the memory. 

“God, that was a nightmare,” Peter chuckles quietly, shaking his head. “You’re first and last time on a skateboard.”

“Nuh uh, I got on it after that.”

He snorts quietly, lost in thought, “Yeah, only when I held both of your hands.”

The two of you settle into a quiet that makes the splatter of rain against the glass echo. Gray clouds hide the sun, making it feel later than it truly is. Everything seems quieted by a thick blanket of solitude. 

As kids, the two of you had a knack for trouble and injuries. Usually it was Peter that needed some degree of medical attention with scraped knees from the pavement or a sprained wrist when he didn’t notice a particularly troublesome crack in the sidewalk. Your injuries were usually in conjunction with his when he tripped you on his way down or a spout of shenanigans sent both of you falling down a few steps. 

Teaching you how to skateboard had been difficult that Saturday afternoon when you were both nine. Red and orange leaves covered the driveway, half raked into piles the two of you had made to jump into before he found a slug and you decided you’d had enough. 

So when you agreed to let him teach you to skateboard, gripping each other's arms as he slowly pulled you forward, he’d been ecstatic. He was even more ecstatic when you felt confident enough to let go and roll a slow few feet to a stop. Until you stepped back, lost your balance and the skateboard flew right out from under you. 

Peter really did try to catch you when you fell. His fingertips brushing the sleeve of your sweater and instead, you went down hard, a hairline fracture in your wrist that was donned in a red cast for most of November. The guilt was so consuming that he climbed in your window every night for a week because he couldn’t seem to rest.

It had been nothing like tonight. Tonight, neither of you had been reckless and stupid children. A Mickey Mouse band aid or a popsicle didn’t dry watery eyes until the pain was dissipated by the distraction of cartoons. 

Nothing could make this better. Peter had been so worried for you. So, so worried that he’d nearly broken his own phone. When he’d thought of Fisk deciding to do something drastic to make a point, he didn’t care about finding his backpack he’d stuck to a dumpster to change. He didn’t care about showing up in his suit, his secret identity not mattering if you were…

His fingertips press against the pads of your own before tracing down each digit and brushing your knuckles. It’s strangely nice; calming you even deeper towards the bone deep exhaustion that has settled in all of your muscles. 

“It’s because you’re Spiderman right?” you breathe out, more like a statement than a question. “That's why you stole those files. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me how you got them.”

There’s a pause before he manages to nod slowly. 

“Yeah,” Peter says in a low voice. “That’s why. It was… a complicated thing, you know.”

Another pause, but this time, you nod slowly. What are you supposed to say to that? 

Everything seems more complicated than possible. You still can’t quite grasp the fact that he’s Spider-Man, no matter how hard you try to envision him crawling in his window, yanking off the mask to reveal his staticy looking hair or flushed face, you just can’t see it. 

The entirety of Midtown High had noticed when he stopped getting his ass kicked without throwing a punch back, how he filled out and seemed a little bit brighter. You’d noticed more than anyone, making sure it seemed like you noticed less than everyone else. 

Katie had been the first one to make an offhand comment about it while you two were stretching for cheer practice senior year. Both of you had been co-captains, roles you’d been destined to fill since freshman year that you worked your asses off to obtain. She said it as she was tying her dark hair into a pony, voice hushed and teasing. 

‘Know how Parker always bolts out of class randomly? Like all the time? Ever wonder if he’s the friendly neighborhood hero? Hey, you guys used to be close, you think that Parker has a body like that- ow!’

You’d promptly shut her up with a playful smack on the arm. 

The idea that Katie had been the one to put it together first, sporadically mentioning that she still believed that dorky Peter Parker could be the one swinging around Manhattan, despite you and Flash writing it off. At least you didn’t have to go through the tremendous I-told-you-so that she would have since you could never tell her. 

He shifts and starts again,“I’m sorry you had to…” Play hostage by a crime boss, spend the past day in the hospital and now two months in a cast.

He can feel his throat burning when he admits that, feel the burn of shame in his chest as he looks at you. Who he was now was based around a secret. One that he didn’t want you to ever know to keep you out of danger. 

Turns out, secret or not, you had been in danger anyway. 

You know that there is a jumbled mess of an apology tangled on his tongue, his mouth parting again and again like he can’t quite find where to start. It’s why his silence doesn’t make you angry that he’s not more vocally apologetic. You know he’s practically beating the life out of himself inside of his own head. 

Just because he was apologetic didn’t mean that you were thrilled at him either. 

“Do you know how scared I was?” You think you’ve asked him that before- no, you know that you have asked him that before. The question either an irritated grumble as you put a bandaid on his elbow or a yell, like when he wiped out on the MET steps because he was spontaneously attempting to grind along the railing without a helmet on.

“I know,” Peter mutters softly, nearly wincing at the thought. The nervous fidgeting of his fingers still, wrapping around yours and squeezing to give you some sort of reassurance. “I know. I know how scared you must have been.” 

He turns to face you more.

“But I promise you - I’m going to do everything in my power to never let anything like this ever happen again to you. I mean it, okay? I am never going to let Fisk anywhere near you.”

Your frown deepens which is not the reaction he had anticipated. 

“No. Not for me,” you clarify. “For you, Pete. When Fisk told me to call you… I just.” The thought of it makes you wince. “I thought he was going to kill you. It’s why I hung up the phone. I just couldn’t…”

Couldn’t be the reason something happened to him.

You'd hung up the phone because it was the only way you thought would protect him. It would almost be funny; the prospect of you protecting him now when he clearly did not need it

Peter says your name but you do nothing. He says it again, sitting up straighter and speaking with a little more desperation, “Look at me.” He takes your cheek in his palm and moves your head so you’re staring directly into his eyes. He wants to make sure you can see the intensity of what he has to say.

You let him, chewing on your cheek. 

“You don’t need to worry about me. I am not weak. I can take care of myself.” Peter’s voice is steady, confident. Confident in himself, at least, less so spilling his heart out to you again like he had the night of graduation. “Come on,” he smiles somberly, thumb tapping your cheek in the hopes that you would understand that he wasn’t the same uncoordinated kid that used to get his face punched in. 

Okay, so maybe he got his face punched in or worse on the daily, but that was different. 

You tilt your head to the side, both to raise an eyebrow at him and press your cheek further into his palm. His eyebrow raises in challenge since it's clear you don’t quite believe him. 

“I’ve been worried about you since I watched you fall off your skateboard the day I moved in across the street,” you breath out with a watery smile. “I’ve never stopped.”

Peter’s entire chest aches when you reach up to touch his face, knuckle grazing his bottom lip. Not even he could deny the way his body lights up whenever your hands are on him. 

He’s still in love - deeply and thoroughly and undeniably. 

Peter knows he’s in for it if he lets this go on much longer. He doesn’t know if he could resist the urge to kiss you all over again. 

“Well, stop worrying about me,” Peter says before leaning down towards you, your faces only inches away from one another to emphasize his point. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

Some days, you thought that not having him in your life the past eight years could’ve killed you. You didn’t think you’d survive it again. But god… you’d let him kiss you even if he left you again.

The words and your soft, gentle expression makes Peter want to kiss the breath out of you.

“I promise.”

You believe him. Relief floods your body and makes your head hang so it’s resting against his. Peter leans forward too, both of your eyes falling closed and sinking into the touch. 

Deep in thought, Peter considers his options while you focus on the feel. He’s always been a bit impulsive and it’s clear that there’s something he’s dying to say. Peter taps his forehead against yours a few times while he debates speaking. 

“I have something to say.”

When you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you. Something about it makes the both of you break into shy smiles, foreheads pressed together and fingers all tangled. 

“Okay.” Your mouth barely moves but he’s so close that the faint sound easily carries. Your previous need for sleep is gone and you can’t imagine wanting to move. 

“I've always loved you,” Peter says without hesitation. It's a simple truth; one he's never been confused by.

Love, in him, has always been inevitable.

It’s easier to put out there since he’d come to terms with it so long ago, it felt as much of a part of him as sticking to the ceiling was. 

You don’t quite expect it and lean back only enough to see his face, blinking in surprise. It’s the abruptness of it that catches you off guard. A part of you isn’t entirely shocked at the admission- you might’ve even known deep down after he kissed you four years ago. 

He goes still too but doesn’t let go of your hands. They tighten faintly like you might slip away now that he’s said it out loud. 

"I don’t remember exactly when. I think I first thought about it when we were twelve and the wood of your trellis snapped when I was sneaking back out and you-”

“Pulled splinters out of your arm for an hour so May wouldn’t know,” you finish for him, swallowing down the urge to cry. “Yeah. I remember.”

Peter nods, slow at first then quickly shaking his head with a determined look. 

“No- well yes, but not only that.” The bed dips under his weight as he shifts closer to look at you better. “It was so dark outside and it knocked the wind out of me. I thought I was dead. I literally thought I had fallen to my death. One second, I totally thought I’d died until you practically jumped out of the window after me. You didn’t even… you didn’t even hesitate.”

The memory makes your frown deepened since you had never been particularly fond of it. It still made you recoil at the thought, even all of these years later. Not for yourself, but for him. 

When you don’t say anything again, he scoots even closer, knees pressing further into your own but you don’t dare move away. His hand cups your face, his thumb feeling for every inch of skin it can reach. 

“And then- yeah, fine. Then you did pull splinters out of my arm for two hours but that wasn’t when I knew. It was when you nearly jumped out your window after me.”

Something about that makes your smile watery, which in turn, makes him choke out a laugh. If you speak, well you’re not entirely sure what words or sounds would come out of your mouth. 

“But I think it was really the summer before freshman year when I realized it.  When that kid two years older than us shoved me on the subway and broke my science fair project. Remember?” He continues hopefully. You can easily nod that you do remember. Peter slips his fingers from your hold to card through your hair, forcing you to fidget with the seam of his sweats from where your hands rest in his lap. 

“And right before the doors closed, you yanked off his hat and yanked me off the train- god, when the doors closed and he realized what you did- that was when I knew. I knew it. You looked like you felt bad about it but you did it anyway and you did it for me and right then I knew that I was in love with you.”

What happened next suddenly clicks.

“And then high school started,” you sigh disappointedly. Peter almost wonders if he said the wrong thing when you look away to stare out the window. 

High school started and you joined cheerleading and you had less time and he felt left behind. More and more and more seemed to wedge itself between you two. That resentment he carried, how his usual go-with-the-flow attitude he normally had with everything else seemed to sour when you needed to reschedule. How he’d get all quiet when a guy approached you at your locker. He’d even been on better terms with Flash at the end of high school and he’d seemed to warm up to him more than he had to you. 

Each second of silence piles up on his chest to suffocate him. His fingers twitch like he’s going to pull away but you place your own hand on his, turning your face back into his palm. His eyes study the little furrow in your brows, knitted and giving away to the depth of your thoughts. 

It's your turn to beat yourself senseless inside your own mind.

“Thought you hated me.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s shaking his head, so vehemently that your head moves with him, like it will prove his point. 

“Never,” he assures. “Never once. Not a single second.”

You’re so flooded by emotions that you have to just sit there to keep yourself from crying. That admittance is harder than believing he did. Hatred was a much easier emotion to stomach than heartbreak. It's just as hard to stomach his presence, how easily he has slipped back into your life, making you aware that nothing you’d ever done had actually filled that hole. 

But he’s here now; your hatred for Wilson Fisk maybe only goes so deep.

“Mine was this past Thanksgiving when you were in Gwen’s car in front of our mailboxes and I couldn’t convince myself to walk outside to return a package.”

Peter feels all the air being knocked out of him when you blurt that out, but his only reaction is his eyebrows rising closer to his hairline. 

If you couldn’t face him before, it’s worse now so you rush to fill the silence. 

“You guys were just sitting there talking, laughing about whatever it was you guys talked about and I didn’t want to walk out there. So I tried waiting for you to go back inside because if I didn’t mail those ugly pants that day, I wouldn’t get a refund. I was already running late to get to Katie’s but I just couldn’t get out the door. Then I realized that if I waited, I’d have to know what you guys were doing and I didn’t want to know that.”

His brows pinch together as he tries to think back to the memory. He remembers being in Gwen’s car, rain blurring the outside world as they caught up while she was in town for the holiday. 

“I just…” you start again, a little slower and less rushed, “I didn’t want to know that she went inside or that you two left together or… I just didn’t want to know. So I went to Katies and couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much.”

You’re not sure that it even makes sense, making you groan silently in frustration. At least Peter seems to be somewhat following but you’re more thankful for his patience in the quiet of your bedroom. You aren’t sure what else to say, so you come right out with it.

“But I didn’t know until that it was… probably love… last week when I woke up in your bed. It was why I ran. Running seemed easier.”

He’s quiet for only a few seconds, “Was it easier?”

You think about that question for a long moment when you realize you don’t exactly know the answer. Was running easier? Sure. Maybe. 

Trouble seemed to follow Peter like a shadow, falling into his hands like it was an old friend. But you were an old friend. So maybe you, Peter, and trouble went hand in hand. 

You shrug, “Probably not.” The answer seems to disappoint you more than it disappoints him. His shoulders don't sag as he continues to hold and touch your face, head cocked to the side to watch you intently. 

“That answer sucked,” Peter snorts. 

Whipping your head to look at him, your mouth drops open so you can scowl, his dumbass ruining the moment. 

“You suck.”

Peter throws his head back and groans with the same dramatics that he harbored as a kid. 

“Oh my god, shut up.” Peter can’t help it - he leans down, his hands slipping into your hair and his mouth claiming your lips as if he would die if he didn’t act on that impulse.

This is the fifth time you’ve kissed Peter Parker. 

It’s the first time you know it won't be the last. 

Your eyes flutter shut at the feel of his lips but it takes you to catch up to the moment. It’s slow and deep; the way your mouth slides over his in happy reciprocation of the kiss. 

Finding a place to put your casted hand is tricky until you manage to rest it against his chest, fingers twisting into the collar of his shirt as an invitation for him to lean further into you. Nothing about the way he holds you, cupping your face and settling on your side, feels fleeting. 

You kiss him until you’re nearly dizzy, knowing you could keep going until you were sick. What a nice thought, being able to kiss him so much that it somehow lost its novelty and became ubiquitous. 

More time passes but you can’t seem to keep track of it, the only tell being the slowing velocity of your mouths. Peter reluctantly pulls away first when he manages to remember that you need rest from how much you're leaning on him. 

“You’re in my head…” Peter mutters to you after taking a second to catch his breath. “You have been ever since we were kids.”

Your quiet laugh hums against his mouth as you drop your forehead against his, telling yourself it’s not because you’re too tired to hold your head up. 

 “And now I’m in your hands,” you hum, finding peace in the giddy exhaustion making you buzz and droop. 

This time you both laugh, giggling softly like little kids and then laughing even harder at a crack of lighting that makes you both jump. 

“Let me just… let me.”

With his super strength, you practically weigh nothing in his arms as he picks you up, kneeling on the bed to pull back your covers. He helps you crawl in, always there, always touching you; a hand on your back, gently shifting you by the waist. 

You practically melt into the pillows, body aching and sore as it welcomes the comfort. There are so many things that still need to be sorted out and talked about before anything can become permanent. 

But all of that seems like something for later. 

“Sleep; you need it,” he says softly from where he’s sitting beside you, brushing a few strands of hair off your face and behind your ear.  

“Stay; I need that too.” Peter twists his mouth up in that little way he always does when he’s trying really, really hard not to smile as he climbs in next to you.

[hokusu]

#DabiHawks where Hawks just wraps Dabi up in his wings for every reason he can think of.

It starts—

"Fuck this. I don't give a shit how useful his quirk is, he's not joining."

Hawks seizes it as an opportunity and steps too close to Dabi, invades his space and pulls him close. Close enough to wrap his wings around him and for Dabi to yelp.

"The fuck are you doing birdbrain?"

"Nothing."

"This—"

"Is nothing."

The wings wrap around them both, drowns out the world and cocoons him into a world of blinding red and soft feathers that caress against his back, his arms and he inhales and its all Hawks. Hawks and his wings. His brows unfurrow and he exhales. It's... admittedly nice.

Fine. Whatever. He'll let himself be wrapped in Hawks wings just this once. 

It goes—

"I hate sushi," Dabi grumbles as he turns away from the League enjoying their dinner. Sushi again. His stomach turns and just like that his mood is soured.

And before he knows it, Hawks flutters to his side and the wings come up. 

Dabi blinks. 

"What the fuck—"

"Shh... just hide in my wings."

"I don't—"

"The wings," Hawks repeats again, like it makes all the sense in the world as he passes him a bucket of fried chicken. One that Dabi isn't really sure where he pulled out of, but the smell of fried chicken is better than the smell of fish and again the room, everyone else fades away. It's just him and Hawks and fried chicken and his wings. 

The goddamn wings. That he doesnt understand the effect of but alright. One more time.

It continues—

Dabi throws a pencil in the middle of a meeting. The meeting that's decidedly going nowhere as he waves a hand, stands up and declares, "Don't care anymore."

Hawks wings are around him almost instantly. 

Dabi exhales out a sigh, "Hawks—"

"Shh. The wings," Hawks chides gently as they come to shield him from the wandering eyes and guide him out of the room. Dabi goes, because he's long since stopped trying to understand. 

And it grows—

"We're out of cereal," Dabi complains as he shakes the empty box into his bowl. 

Hawks laughs in delight and in a flurry of red feathers, Dabi is surrounded in wings.

"Hawks," Dabi deadpans.

"Shh. My wings are here."

"That doesn't solve the empty cereal box."

"Sure it does, you love these wings don't you?" 

Hawks shakes his right wing in response, letting the wing span out and flare into a beautiful crimson wall and like a moth drawn to the flames, Dabi's eyes follow the movmement. 

Hawks' left wing comes up next against Dabi's arms, the gentle feathers brushing against his skin and alluring Dabi into another distraction. 

Dabi exhales and Hawks looks far too pleased.

Dabi still doesn't know why this works.

[xinsareforever]

Hello, I hope you are doing well!

If it's alright, may I please request what you think being Anji’s best friend might be like? Do you feel he might be open or act differently than he would normally?

Anji x GN! Reader (P)

Topic: Being best friends with Anji

Tags: SFW, Fluff

---

-Anji is the definition of a relaxed and easygoing friend. When you're hanging out, everything feels super chill. He’s the kind of guy who would suggest grabbing tea and just lounging under a cherry blossom tree, enjoying the breeze while having deep conversations or just people-watching.

-Anji loves to dance, and as his best friend, you’ll inevitably get roped into it. Whether you're good at it or not, he’ll be patient, guiding your movements with a smile and playful teasing. He always says dancing is about expressing yourself, so there's no wrong way to do it.

-Anji is fiercely loyal and protective of his friends. If you're ever in a tight spot or feeling down, Anji is always there, offering his calm wisdom or stepping in to defend you without a second thought. He’s like your personal bodyguard, but with a smooth, effortless attitude.

-He’s a deep thinker and loves engaging in philosophical discussions. Whether it’s about life, destiny, or the meaning of fighting, you’ll often find yourselves in long talks about everything and nothing. He’s open-minded and values your opinions, even when they differ from his own.

-Anji is playful and loves to mess with you in a lighthearted way. He’ll throw in sly remarks and clever jokes just to see you blush or react. But he’s never mean about it—it’s all in good fun. You two are constantly bantering back and forth, with Anji always having the last laugh.

-Anji loves a good meal, especially traditional Japanese dishes. As his best friend, he’ll often invite you over to cook together, teaching you some of his favorite recipes. Whether it’s sushi, tempura, or a comforting bowl of ramen, these cooking sessions always turn into laughter-filled hangouts.

-No matter how crazy things get, Anji is always the calm in the storm. When you're freaking out or stressed, he’s the one who stays grounded, helping you find your center. His presence alone is comforting, and he’s the perfect friend to lean on when things get tough.

-When Anji practices his dances, you’re often his one-person audience, sitting on the side, watching him perform with grace. He’ll sometimes jokingly pull you in, twirling you around unexpectedly. He’s your biggest hype man too, always encouraging you to loosen up and have fun, even if you feel a little awkward at first.

-Being friends with Anji means you’ll travel a lot. He’s always searching for something—whether it’s about his heritage or just a cool new spot—and he’ll insist you tag along. Whether it's visiting remote locations or enjoying quiet moments in scenic spots, every trip is memorable with him.

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, ''𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬''⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 真夜中のドアをたたき 帰らないでと泣いた あの季節が 今 目の前 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 口ぐせを言いながら 二人の瞬間を抱いて まだ忘れず 大事にしていた -Miki Matsubara, Stay With Me ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Isaac stood in the kitchen, surrounded by an array of colorful ingredients and exotic spices, each contributing to a symphony of aromas that filled the air with anticipation. He was meticulously preparing a selection of traditional Japanese dishes, and the enticing scents of simmering broths and sizzling vegetables created a tantalizing atmosphere. The thought that his mother had likely taught him these recipes melted your heart, filling you with warmth and admiration.

Catching your eye with a brief, warm smile, Isaac's voice resonated with calm excitement. "Almost ready," he said, his eyes steady and focused. "I can't wait for you to try these."

You returned his smile, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "Everything smells amazing," you replied, stepping closer to the counter where he was working.

Isaac finished plating the dishes with careful precision. He then reached into a drawer and retrieved a pair of elegant chopsticks, handing them to you with a gentle gesture. You took them hesitantly, your fingers fumbling slightly as you tried to hold them correctly.

Noticing your uncertainty, Isaac stepped closer, his eyes softening with understanding. "Do you know how to use these?" he asked quietly, his voice a tender whisper.

You blushed, looking down at the chopsticks in your hand. "Not really," you admitted shyly. "I've never been able to get the hang of it."

Isaac's smile widened slightly, a subtle yet playful glint in his soft brown eyes. "Let me show you," he said, reaching out to take your hand. Positioning himself behind you, his body radiated warmth and a sense of calm, making you feel enveloped in his presence.

Gently, he wrapped his hand around yours, guiding your fingers into the correct position on the chopsticks. His touch was firm yet tender, his movements patient as he demonstrated the technique. "Just like this," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart raced, a blend of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Isaac's presence was comforting, his touch reassuring as he guided your hand. Slowly, you began to mimic his movements, the chopsticks starting to feel more natural in your grip.

"See? You've got it," Isaac whispered, his lips close to your ear. His voice was a soothing balm, filled with affection and encouragement.

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze. "Thank you," you said softly, your voice imbued with gratitude and a hint of lingering shyness.

Isaac's eyes held yours, a tender expression illuminating their depths. "Anything for you," he replied, his voice a gentle caress that wrapped around your heart.

Leaning back slightly, you felt the solid comfort of his body behind you. With newfound confidence, you picked up a piece of sushi using the chopsticks, holding it up triumphantly. Isaac's smile broadened, his pride evident in his eyes.

As you tasted the sushi, the flavors burst in your mouth, a delightful explosion of taste that mirrored the emotions swirling in your heart. Isaac's hands still rested lightly on yours, his touch a constant reminder of his support and care.

In that moment, surrounded by the rich scents of the kitchen and the warmth of Isaac's embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of affection for him. Turning your head, you kissed him softly, your lips conveying all the emotions words could not.

Isaac responded with equal tenderness, his hand gently cupping your face as he deepened the kiss. When you finally pulled away, you both wore matching smiles, your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

"Let's eat," Isaac said softly, his eyes twinkling with love and joy as you shared the meal he had so lovingly prepared, a meal his mother would have been proud of. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

[imagineanime2022]

Making Out With S/O To Hide On A Mission

Atsushi Nakajima X Reader Osamu Dazai X Reader Ryunnosuke Akatagawa X Reader

Requested: @ghostlyintervention

Request: Hi! I really liked your jealous with bsd boys! Could you maybe do Atsushi, Dazai, Akutagawa and whoever else you want having to pretend to make out with their partner on a mission while they were running from guards or something? Thank you so much have a great day (❃•̤ॢᗜ•̤ॢ)✲*｡♡

Nakajima Atsushi

🐅 His face was bright red when you suggested a quick way that you could hide from the people chasing you. 🐅 His eyes drifting to your lips as his cheeks turn red and then he catches himself as he tries to look anywhere but you. 🐅 As you step closer to him, he looks for any way to escape the situation. Atsushi rambles out suggestions of other things that you can do to hide. 🐅 You’ll be the one that ends up connecting your lips because he’s too busy backing away from you to realise that his back was pressed against the wall and he has nowhere else to go.

You leaned over your hands resting on your knees as you tried to catch your breath, the job had gone sideways, you glanced over at Atsushi who seemed far better off than you “we can’t keep running like this… I mean you probably could but I really can’t.” You informed him and he looked at you. “What should we do?” He asked. “I-” You glanced behind him and saw the people who were looking for you. “Don’t turn around but they're behind us… We need to think of something quick.” “Umm.” He looked around. You looked around but the only thing that was close enough was him, then an idea popped into your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and he looked down at you and frowned. “What are you doing?” “I’m going to kiss you.” You explained. “What!? Wait! There’s a stall over there, maybe there something-” “We don’t have time ‘Sushi, it’s alright just relax, I’m your girlfriend you're allowed to kiss me.” You reminded him as you pulled him closer. “But everyone will see.” He mumbled hands now resting on your waist as his eyes looked around. “That’s the point.” You smiled as you leaned closer “people tend to look away when people are being lovey dovey.” You started walking him backwards, his back hit the wall and he flinched, you looked at him and smiled as you leaned up on your tippy toes and brushed your lips against his “do you want to kiss me?” “O-of course.” You stuttered out. “Good.” You pressed your lips against his, your arms tightening around his neck, his hands squeezed at your waist as you smiled into the kiss and pulled away. “They're gone.” Atsushi mumbled. “Told you it would work.” You winked. “We should get back.” He said taking your hand and heading back to the ADA office to regroup and think of a new plan.

Osamu Dazai

🩹 This was 100% his first and only idea , he takes no other suggestion and has crowded you against the wall to carry out his plan. 🩹 He’s likely not even going to tell you what’s going on, you're going to have to put those pieces together on your own. 🩹 Dazai is very aware of everyone around you, so he definitely saw the people that you were hiding from first and more than likely covered your view of them so that if someone was seen it would only be him. 🩹 You can try and push him away but Dazai always does what he wants, he just leans in closer as he laughs at you.

Dazai saw the guards walking around the room, he knew that you’d both be noticed in no time, people knew Dazai, it would only take a few minutes for them to realise why you were both there , he placed his hands on your waist and guided you backwards until you back pressed against the wall of the large ballroom, he had been looking at you all night thinking about how beautiful you looked and how much he wanted to tell you. “Dazai what are you doing?” You asked as you glanced around the room, he caught your chin to stop you from looking around too much, he drew his attention back to him. “You look beautiful.” He said softly as he leaned closer, crowding your space and covering you from view. “You clean up well but we have a mission to finish you need to focus.” You reminded him and he smiled. “I’m focused.” He smirked as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Dazai.” You warned as you tried to push him away, he just leaned closer and nudged at your jaw pressing soft kisses there and knocked you face up so that he could connect your lips, you should have pulled away but you really couldn’t bring yourself to. Dazai realised that you weren’t pushing him away and he wrapped an arm around you and deepened the kiss, his other arm bracketing your face, when he pulled away he glanced behind him seeing the guards walking away and he smiled. “What the hell!?” “The guards.” He answered. “There were other ways that he could have dealt with that.” You argued teeth catching your bottom lip. “This one is more fun.” He answered his hand coming up to pull your lip from your teeth as he leaned in again, you placed your index finger over his lips to stop him from connecting your lips again. “We have a job to finish, once it’s done then you have as many kisses as you want.” You told him as you looked around the room. “You promise?” He asked with a smirk on his face. “Let’s get going.” You ordered.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

🧥 Akutagawa was more than happy to get rid of the people following you but Mori needed them alive so you needed to find a way to lose them before heading back to the base. 🧥 Both of you think of the same thing at the same time, you're the one to say it out loud though. 🧥 He won’t disagree but there’s no agreement either, if you want to execute this plan then you’ll have to be the one to initiate the kiss. 🧥 That being said the moment that your lips connect with his he makes it as believable as possible and you're the one left breathless at the end.

You groaned as you glanced behind you and saw that they were still following you “they’re still there.” You said as you turned back around leading him towards a secluded park bench. “Remind me again why we can’t kill them?” He asked. “Mori wants them alive, remember?” You asked as he sat on the bench with a soft cough as the only indication that he was even still there. “Well then what do we do to get them to go away?” He asked “We need to get back.” You both looked at each other, you had taken a place in front of him, you both seemed to have the same idea at the same time when he looked at you, there weren’t that many people around so Akatagawa was more open to the idea but he didn’t move as he looked at you. “It’s your plan, you execute it.” He ordered and you looked at him and rolled your eyes as you moved closer nudging his legs apart so that you could get closer, you knee rested on the edge of the bench as his eyes shifted behind you, you could see a slight pinkness dusting his cheeks. “You flustered?” You asked as you leaned closer, his eyes moved back to you as they narrowed. “Of course not.” He answered eyes closing and he looked at you now refusing to look anywhere but your face. “Are you?” “Me? Do I look flustered?” You asked leaning closer. “Tch.” He grunted as he reached up and pulled you closer by your chin “last chance before I find some other way to get rid of them.” You leaned forward and connected your lips, you closed your eyes pressing closer to him as he supported you, you finally pulled away after a moment and he almost chased after you. “I think they’re gone.” “Good.” You mumbled as you stood back up, you turned to figure out the quickest way back to the base, you felt him behind you as he stood up. “We should get back, I want this mission to be over.” He said. “Aww you don’t like kissing me in the middle of the park?” You asked pouting. “I prefer the privacy of our apartment.” He answered honestly “maybe when we get back I can show you.” Your eyes widened as you looked at him, he smirked as he walked past you pulling you with him as he headed back towards the base.

Request Here!!

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Dinner and Crafts

Pairing: KakaGai

Words:

Note: Inspiration from @edai-crplpnk and @maitogaimybeloved and other's from the Kakagai server who spoil me with cute ideas <3 i also offer this to @kakagaievents for Kakagai Valentines week because i… did not write anything else 😭😭😭

The room was quiet when Kakashi entered. Not a sound reached his ears as he stepped past the front door into the living room. Not a single grunt echoed from the bedroom, signalling that Gai was in the midst of an intense workout that Kakashi could only hope wasn’t going to result in an uncomfortable sleep because his husband forgot once again to be mindful of his damaged leg.

There was no laughter piercing through the air, guiding him to the kitchen where he would find his husband's elbows deep into his fifth baking project of the week.

Not even a light chatter of Gai muttering to himself about his next workout plan or whatever precious thoughts had sprung into his mind reached his ears.

There was nothing but silence, and every alert went off in Kakashi’s mind. Immediately he began searching for Gai’s chakra signature, though he felt no sense of relief when the warmth of Gai’s light chakra reached him. 

Gai's absence would have been more comforting in this scenario, since it would tell him that his husband had grown bored waiting around for him to finish with meetings and join him, and had instead gone outside to find something to entertain himself with. His presence mixed with unrelenting silence meant something completely different.

Something was wrong. That was the only explanation he could think of.

Maito Gai was not a man who could be quiet for long periods. In that regard, he was the complete opposite of Kakashi. 

“Gai?” nudging the door shut with his foot he waited to hear the soft ‘click’ of it closing before toeing his shoes off and nudging them off to the side. “You in here?”

“Rival!” Gai’s voice called from the bedroom, breaking the eery silence and filling the home with that beautiful warmth that made Kakashi so excited to return after a long day of being surrounded by other people. “In the bedroom! I would get up but-”

“Don’t worry about it,” dropping his keys onto the coffee table he made his way toward the bedroom. A bag of sushi hung off of his left arm, with a beautifully wrapped furoshiki full of Dango from the only Dango shop in Konoha that Gai would frequent. “I brought dinner and dessert, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Stopping in front of their bedroom door, Kakashi raised an eyebrow when he saw his husband sitting with his back against the end of their bed and his leg stretched out in front of him. He hunched over himself with his eyes focused intently on something in his hands. 

Immediately Kakashi noticed that his husband’s prosthetic wasn’t on, and when he glanced toward Gai’s side of the bed he saw it sitting in its charging station. There was a bit more dirt on the foot than there had been when he checked on it that morning, wanting to make sure it was charged properly so that Gai could use it if he wanted, but otherwise looked the same as when he had left for work. 

 Dragging his eye from the prosthetic he focused on the spot across from Gai where seven out of eight of his ninja hounds lay in various positions enjoying the feeling of the sun that filled the room from the bedroom window.

The eighth hound, Shiba, was sitting at Gai’s side watching what he was doing. 

“You got my nose wrong,” Shiba objected, earning a grunt from Gai. “It’s less pointed than that. A bit rounder.”

“Your nose?” everyone’s attention turned to Kakashi in that moment, and without wasting a second Pakkun picked himself up from his comfortable spot across Bull’s back and trotted up to his summoner. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” Gai beamed, his smile lighting up the room even more than the sun itself. “Tenten was visiting earlier and told me she saw another wheelchair user in the village with pins on the back of his chair. It gave me an idea and, well.” Lifting his hand he turned it toward Kakashi to show him what he was working on. “How does it look?”

Examining the work, Kakashi couldn’t help but chuckle. “Is this what you’ve been doing all day?” he asked, making his way toward Gai and kneeling in front of him to get a closer look. “Shiba’s right. The nose is a little pointy.”

“I told you!”

Glancing to the side, Kakashi’s smile grew even wider when he saw a small collection of pins sitting at Gai’s side. There were five in total, each representing one of his summons.

“Pin’s,” he chuckled. “Of the hounds? Why them?” Coming up to his side Pakkun prodded at the bag of food with his nose. 

“Well, they were here,” Gai answered, earning himself a sharp glare from every single hound in the room. “And I want Pin’s the second-best summons in the village of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

Pakkun sat back and tilted his head. “Second best?”

“Of course!” Puffing out his chest Gai returned Pakkun’s glare with one of his own, though it was more an expression of determination rather than genuine annoyance. “I love you all, but Ningame will always be the best summon.”

“The Tortoise of course,” Pakkun huffed. “Yet we’re the ones sitting here keeping you company.”

“Ningame would keep me company too!”

Ignoring the argument happening in front of him, Kakashi reached over Gai and picked up one of the empty pins sitting beside him. Besides that, he could see a pile of clay, which Gai seemed to be used to create rather accurate depictions of the hounds, and even some pre-made pins of Nunchuck’s, Kunai’s and other shinobi weapons. 

“So,” he glanced Gai’s way, a playful smile stretching across his lips and reaching into his eyes. “If Ningame is so important that means you’re going to make a pin of him as well, correct?”

“Well, I-”

“And the S.O.S Turtle,” turning the pin around in his hand he examined the clays. All of the colours Gai had gotten matched the hound's fur, the dark blue of their vests, and the colours of their accessories. There were, however, no greens or reds that perfectly matched Ningame’s body and shell. “Gai…”

“I’m going to!” His husband insisted, a panicked look greeting him when he glanced his way. “I just want to make the hounds first.”

“I’m sure that would go over well with Ningame,” closing his hand around the pin he lifted his arm to show Gai the bag of food he’d brought home with him. “I placed an order at our favourite place. How does a Sushi dinner sound?”

Gai’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “That sounds fantastic, Rival,” he agreed. “But,” glancing down at the pin laying in his hand, he chuckled. “Can I finish this one first? I don’t want to leave it half done.”

“Oh Gai,” standing up, Kakashi glanced around the room and zeroed in on the tiny table that sat on his side of the bed. Most of the time the table served as a place to place his book and a cup of tea on the rare occasion he decided to enjoy it in bed, but tonight it would be perfect for holding their food. “We can eat here,” he declared while making his way toward the table. Once he was right in front of it he leaned down, grabbed hold of either side, and lifted it off of the ground. 

“Eat here?” Gai watched as he carried the table to the end of the bed, waited for him to adjust himself so that his legs were folded under him,  and gently placed it between him and the hounds. “Since when do we eat in the bedroom?”

“Today’s a special day,” Kakashi dismissed his concerns with a simple shrug of his shoulders and stepped around the table. Kneeling, he began gathering all of the supplies Gai had set down beside himself and moved them onto the table. “We can eat and work on pins at the same time.”

“Special day?” Tilting his head, Gai frowned. “What do you mean by that, Rival?”

Stopping amid his work, Kakashi turned to look at Gai. “You’re not being serious right now, are you?” he asked, sighing when his husband continued to stare at him with a blank expression. “Ah, I see. Well, no loss really,” grabbing the last bit of supplies he placed it on the table and straightened himself up. “It’s not that important. I just thought you would remember is all.”

Gai’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh,” raising his right hand, Kakashi waved it. Dismissing Gai’s concerns with a simple gesture. “Don’t worry about it. We’re going to have a nice sushi dinner right here while we continue working on these pins of yours.”

“Kakashi…”

“Better tell him, boss,” Bull stood up and stretched his front paws out in front of him. “Otherwise none of us are going to get a second of peace for the rest of the night.”

Aware of just how correct Bull was, Kakashi sighed. “It’s Valentine's Day.”

Gai’s eyes widened. “V-Valantines Day?”

Nodding his head, Kakashi grabbed hold of the bag handles and pulled the bag off of his arm. Once it was free he set it down in the centre of the table and sat directly across from Gai. Not even two seconds after he’d claimed his seats all eight hounds got up from their respective seats and began crowding around him.

Bull took the spot directly to his left and wasted no time in laying his head down on his lap. An offering which Kakashi immediately understood and took advantage of by laying his left hand down on top of Bull’s head. 

Akino, Shiba and Bizuke each took a spot directly behind him, covering his back and claiming the warmth that radiated off of him. 

Guruko, Uhei and Urushi worked around each other until they each had a spot on his right. Urushi had his head on top of Uhei’s back, and Guruko rubbed his head against Kakashi’s right leg while he got comfortable.

Once the first seven hounds were comfortable, Pakkun took his opening and jumped up onto Kakashi’s right shoulder in one giant leap. It took him only a few seconds to get comfortable in his spot, and as soon as he was happy he leaned his head against Kakashi’s neck. 

“What a terrible time not to have access to a camera,” Gai joked as he held his hands out in front of himself and formed a heart with his fingers. Peering through the heart, he grinned. “Beautiful.”

“And only you get to see it,” reaching a hand into the bag, Kakashi pulled out the Furoshiki and placed it off to the left. Away from all of the supplies they would be using. “How lucky are you?”

Dropping his hands, Gai glanced at the Furoshiki with curious eyes. “The luckiest in all of Konoha,” he answered without hesitation. “And I’m not even exaggerating. All of the girls and boys in Konoha would swoon if they saw you like this. The great Sixth Hokage-”

Picking up one of the blank pins, Kakashi chucked it at his husband. “Don’t say things like that, and don’t call me that.”

Gai snatched the pin out of the air before it could strike him and stuck his tongue out in protest. “I will say what I want,” he continued once his tongue retracted back into his mouth. “And it’s true. Pretty much everyone in Konoha would swoon if they saw you surrounded by eight adorable hounds.”

“Bloodhounds,” Pakkun protested with a grunt.”

“Adorable bloodhounds.” Gai corrected himself.

“Well, that will never happen,” reaching back into the bag, Kakashi began pulling containers out one by one. First, the Maki, which he set down a bit closer to himself, and then the tempura which they’d been kind enough to separate from the rest of the food. They went directly in front of Gai, who wasted no time in opening the container and admiring its contents. 

Next was the sashimi, and then the Nigiri, and finally the Uramaki. 

A variety of all their favourites that Kakashi had made sure to order three days ago to ensure they would be able to make it. Valentine's Day was one of the busiest days of the year after all, and he didn’t want a repeat of his and Gai’s first valentines Day together when they’d tried to go out to dinner only to realize every place in Konoha was booked full of couples wanting to spend the day together.

Thankfully they’d been able to make the order to go back then, and that’s how Kakashi and Gai continued to get their Valentine's Day dinners. Romantic dinners were nicer when they weren’t overshadowed by large crowds of people. 

That’s how Kakashi felt, at least. There was no value in going out for dinner if he couldn’t even hear Gai’s boisterous laugh over the sounds of dozens of other people trying to enjoy their special night out. 

“You got all of the usuals?” Opening the tempura, Gai held out a hand. Far too familiar with his husband's gestures, Kakashi dug his hand into the bag once more and pulled out two sets of chopsticks, but instead of handing one over to Gai he waved it in front of his face playfully. An action that was immediately rewarded with a rather annoyed glare from his husband. “Kakashi, I can smell the Tempura and it’s making my stomach growl.”

“You could try asking politely,” he offered. “You know there are these things called ‘manners’. I think you tried to teach them to your student once, but Tenten skipped all the lessons.”

“She did,” Gai nodded in agreement. “But you hardly need manners when you have better depth perception than your husband.”

Seeing his husband reaching out for the chopsticks, Kakashi pulled them back further. “You’ll have to get into a handstand and walk over here for them if you keep it up,” he huffed. “Besides, what I lack in-depth perception I more than makeup in other skills.”

“Other skills, eh,” Gai wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. “Like what?”

“Well-” A paw came over his mouth, silencing him before he could even form the words he wanted to say. 

“None of us need to hear that,” Pakkun grumbled from his spot on his shoulder. “Just give him the chopsticks. The quicker you two eat the quicker he can get back to work on those pins.”

“Mmm, impatient much?”

“He’s just upset I said I was going to make his pin last.” Leaning over the table, Gai swiped the chopsticks out of Kakashi’s hands and set the extra set down in front of him before settling back into his spot. 

“Last?” Kakashi asked. “Why is Pakkun last?”

“Well, I thought you might want to join me after work,” Opening the chopsticks, he separated them and immediately claimed his first piece of Tempura from the container. “So I was trying to save Pakkun’s pin for you since he’s your favourite.”

“He’s not-”

“He is,” seven of his eight hounds interjected while Pakkun sat on his shoulder snicker.

Knowing he was outnumbered, Kakashi opted for eating instead of arguing and picked up his chopsticks. “I love you all,” he muttered under his breath, turning his head when Bull rubbed his nose against his leg. 

“We know you do, boss.” the bulldog assured him, earning himself a quick scratch behind the ear and a pat on the head before Kakashi turned his attention back to his food. 

“So,” picking up another piece of tempura, Gai shoved it into his mouth and chewed it with such ferocity that Kakashi began to wonder just how long he’d been sitting here working on pins. Once he swallowed his food he continued speaking. “How was work?” His question was answered with an exhausted groan. “Ah, that bad?”

“I knew being Hokage was hard,” opening the container full of Maki, Kakashi claimed a piece of salmon maki and reached up with his free hand to tug his mask down so he could eat freely. “But no one told me that I would have to sit in so many meetings with the elders. It’s no wonder Tsunade-sama wanted out of the job.”

“Is training Naruto going any better?” Gai probed, his hand moving to the container Kakashi had just opened and claiming and piece of cucumber maki. “How long do you think it will be until he is ready to take the position from you?”

“Well,” thinking back to the work he’d done on teaching Naruto the importance of staying awake to complete his paperwork, he cringed. “I think we’re a few years away still, but I know for sure he’ll be able to handle the elders.”

Though, if he was being honest with himself he hoped Naruto wouldn’t have to handle the two cranky old elders who seemed to have made it their life’s mission to complain about everything he did. 

If he was really lucky, the two of them would stop being a thorn in his side sooner rather than later.

“Ah, anyways,” waving away all thoughts of his work day, he focused his stormy black eye on his husband and smiled. “Let’s talk about something more fun, like these pins,” he pointed to the blank pins and the clay sitting at the edge of the table. “You said you wanted to do Pakkun last, right?”

“Well, I actually thought-”

“In that case, I think I’ll step out after dinner,” he continued, ignoring the glare his husband gave him for cutting him off. “I’ll need green and red clay to work on my project.”

Gai stated at him, confusion settling into his eyes as he processed Kakashi's words. “Green and red?” he asked, even more confused when Kakashi nodded. “But the hounds don’t wear anything green and red.”

“Oh, it’s not for the hounds,” he smiled while reaching up to pet Pakkun’s head with the hand that wasn’t holding his chopsticks. “You’re making the hounds pins, I’m making pins for Ningame and the S.O.S Turtle.”

Gai’s jaw dropped. “You-”

“Well, someone has to,” he continued. “If you summon Ningame while you’re in your wheelchair and he sees pins of all my hounds, but none of him he’ll…well,” there were a few reactions he could think of. Anger, resentment, annoyance, jealousy. None of them were good, and all of them would result in Gai receiving a very long lecture about loyalty from his tortoise before Ningame disappeared to go and sulk back in his domain. “Besides,” he picked up another piece of Maki, this time opting for some cucumber maki. A cautionary choice, since his husband had a bad habit of eating it all on him when given the opportunity. “The hounds will get annoyed with me. I don’t take constructive criticism as well as you do.”

“Or at all,” Akino yapped behind him. 

“You would just ignore us,” Bull grunted. “That’s why we like him more.”

Placing a hand over his chest, Kakashi gasped dramatically. “Like him?” he pointed at his husband with his free hand. “More than me? Why I- well…” Tilting his head, he started into Gai’s eyes. “Actually, I can see that. He is cooler than me.”

And just like that, nine voices echoed in protest. Each one of them offered their reasons for why he was, in fact, the cooler of the two, but Kakashi didn’t listen to any of them. 

He simply enjoyed the sound of nine of his favourite voices bombarding him with love and continued to eat his sushi.

[cariiisblog]

description:this is your first time in japan as a foreigner u go to a lot of local spots and while u are there u meet a certain someone😉..

You had always dreamed of visiting Japan, a land where tradition seamlessly blends with modernity. Growing up in a small town, her fascination with Japanese culture began with anime and manga, but it blossomed into something deeper as she learned about its rich history, art, and the intricate social dynamics that govern life in the bustling cities. The day finally arrived when she set foot in Tokyo, her heart racing with excitement and nervousness.

As you stepped out of Narita International Airport, the overwhelming sights and sounds enveloped her. The neon lights flickered against the twilight sky, and the aroma of street food wafted through the air. With her limited Japanese, she navigated her way through the train stations, finally arriving in Shibuya, her first destination. The iconic Shibuya Crossing sprawled before her, a sea of people moving in perfect synchrony.

you spent her days exploring the lively streets, indulging in sushi, and visiting shrines. Each encounter was a lesson; the locals were warm and welcoming, guiding her through the intricacies of their culture. One evening, while wandering through a quieter district, she stumbled upon a small izakaya. Intrigued by the lively atmosphere, she walked in, her senses tingling with curiosity.

Inside, laughter and chatter filled the air. you took a seat at the counter, ordering a drink.As you sit at the club at the counter up front you slightly scan the place.you see a lot of people partying and laughing.as you look around the club u spot a vip section.in that vip section u see a lot of men very good looking.You and one of the men at the vip section he stood out to you blonde eyebrows lavender eyes two braids half black half blond.you didn’t really realize u guys were locking eyes until the bartender slams the drink in front of you which got u startled.

“what are u staring at girl”

the bartender says

“oh nothing just scanning the area”

when u look back the man was gone u started looking over there in that area wondering where he went.then u feel two taps on your shoulder when u look over to see who it was your heart skipped a beat of course.it was him

“looking for something”

he says in a low soothing cocky town

“no not at all”

u say shaking your leg nervously,he stirs next to you ordering his drink he then turns to look at you.

“so what are u doing here u don’t seem like the typical type to be clubbing” he says checking you out looking at you head to toe with a piercing stare he looks at your thighs your whole everything

btw this is what u have on

**like i said u are new to japan and not alot of people wear like revealing clothes any back to the story**

“see something u like ?” you say kinda in a flirty tone u usually don’t flirt a lot but this guy was different he brung the flirt out

“i definitely do”he says smirking as he puts a hand on your thigh”

the whole night was just romantic flirting

“so we’re are we going u say looking at him with your drunk eyes”

“to my place of course” he says starting the car and driving away”

[daisybianca]

pairing: mick Schumacher x femalereader

summary: mick gives his favorite girl a special birthday to remember.

warnings: none really, pure fluff

YOUR BIRTHDAY HAD already been wonderful. It had started with your favorite donuts and strong coffee in bed, served by Mick, and shopping and lunch with your best friend.

Your boyfriend had surprised you this morning with the yummy goodness, a beautiful bouquet of paperwhite daffodilsm. He also gave you one hell of a treat courtesy of that wicked tongue of his. You thought that was all that he had in store because it was already so perfect. But you were wrong.

Coming home from lunch, you opened the door to the apartment and gasped at the sight.

Balloons.

Dozens and dozens of colorful balloons had been blown up and now filled the small hallway that led into the main living space. You had to push your way through them, grinning ear to ear like a child in a ball pit, before finally reaching the kitchen.

Mick was waiting at the entry to it, laughing his ass off at your expression when you emerged.

"How on earth did you manage to pull that off?” you asked completely flabbergasted, throwing your arms around his neck and planting a big wet kiss on his plump lips.

With a shy smile that reddened his cheeks, he shook his head and shrugged, “Deliveries. Lots and lots of deliveries.”

He took out his phone and snapped a silly selfie of the two of you in front of floating globes.

“C’mon love, I have another surprise for you in the kitchen.” he said before giving his lip a swipe of the tongue and bite to suppress a smile.

Mick stepped behind you, holding his hands in front of your eyes as blindfolds while keeping his body pressed against your back to guide you.

He was in the middle of pretty intense workouts and all you felt pressed against you right now was hard chiseled abs and muscles. He frequently took photos and videos of himself during these training sessions and posted them on Instagram. He did it for his fans, but during every one of them he gave a little squint and a small wink. That was always a signal just for you.

“I can't even begin to imagine what you’ve been up to all day.” Sniffing the air you asked, “Did you bake something?”

“I'm going to take my hands away, but I want you to keep your eyes closed, ok?” You nodded and did as instructed. He removed his hands and wrapped them around your waist instead, cradling you in his arms as he rested his head upon your shoulder. Into your ear he whispered, “You can open your eyes now.”

On the counter was a tower of chocolate cupcakes that he had baked and decorated himself with frosting and sprinkles. But the kitchen table held the items that had you squealing with delight.

Sushi!!!

Or rather all of your favorite ingredients to make sushi. “I hope you don't mind but I started the rice for you already.” He said as he gave your neck a kiss. “I have a little poke bowl for us to nibble while we prep the rest.” He knew that making and eating sushi was your absolute favorite. Better than any dinner out at a restaurant for his girl.

Turning into his arms, you reached up and ran your hand in his blond hair, relishing the feel of it. He closed his eyes briefly, he loved it when you played with it.

“You are the most amazing man in the world Mick Schumacher.” You locked eyes, looking at him with so much love and adoration.

A tear escaped your eye when you saw the same feelings reflected back. He reached up and swiped it up with his finger from your cheek.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He wished to you before pulling you in for a breathtaking, slow kiss. "The sushi could wait, though."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3