#power banks brands

[skyhawkstragedy]

POWER RANGERS NINJA STEEL | K-POP POSITIONS

[jcmarchi]

Pavlo Pikulin, Founder & CEO of Deus Robotics – Interview Series

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/pavlo-pikulin-founder-ceo-of-deus-robotics-interview-series/

Pavlo Pikulin, Founder & CEO of Deus Robotics – Interview Series

Pavlo Pikulin is the founder and CEO of Deus Robotics, which has developed an AI platform that connects and enhances the intelligence of warehouse robots from any manufacturer. The company also offers AI-powered robots that cover 90% of warehouse automation needs — and counting. With over 22 years of experience in AI and 6 years in robotics, Pavlo serves as an Expert on the Artificial Intelligence committee under Ukraine’s Ministry of Digital Transformation.

Can you share your journey in AI and robotics, and what inspired you to start Deus Robotics?

It all began with my dad, who’s always been a tech enthusiast. Even before I was born, he got me a personal computer — pretty rare in my hometown back in 1989.

When I was five, I wrote my first computer program. The idea of giving a task to a machine and watching it execute was absolutely fascinating to me.

At seven, I sold my first website for $20. Soon after, I started building and selling computers. By thirteen, I had written a program to bypass a captcha in a computer game, which later evolved into an automatic number-plate recognition system.

By fifteen, I was convinced that the future was all about robotics.

This realization set my path towards robotics and AI. However, at that age, I didn’t have the means to start my own robotics company, so I took a bit of a detour. At nineteen, I launched a game studio which grew into a global company with 60 million users worldwide. By 2021, we had 700 employees, and some of our games became the top downloads in their genre in the US.

But robotics was always on my mind and in my heart. I’ve always believed the world would be better if robots could handle all the tough, mundane, or dangerous tasks. By late 2017, I had saved enough to finally bootstrap my own robotics company and make that vision a reality.

It took me a year to do all the research in robotics I needed to start. After that, I gathered a team of incredibly talented engineers and programmers — some old friends, others new faces — and we launched Deus Robotics in early 2019. This past summer, Deus Robotics was shortlisted for Logistics UK’s Logistics Awards, Robotics & Automation Awards, and Supply Chain Excellence Awards USA.

What lessons did you carry over from your 15 years in the gaming industry to robotics and AI?

Working on games has given me valuable experience in many key areas, and it’s been rewarding to see how these skills apply to robotics.

Virtual Worlds for Robotics

Virtual worlds are a game-changer in robotics, offering a quicker and more efficient way to test ideas without waiting months for a hardware prototype. Instead of spending time and resources on physical prototypes, you can experiment in a virtual environment. Creating these virtual worlds is a lot like designing a game, where robots interact with their surroundings — this is where my game development experience really comes in handy.

Algorithm Transfer

When we were developing algorithms for robot path planning, as a team, we tapped into our experience from creating similar algorithms in games for character navigation. In our strategy games, hundreds of characters had to navigate through cities with roads and buildings — just like robots in our systems. This made transferring our path-planning expertise to robotics feel seamless and natural.

Complex Software and Analytics

Robots, much like games, are built on complex software. Developing a world-class game involves creating secure payment systems, social features like chat and groups, competitive elements, and a detailed virtual world with countless mechanics. One of our games had over 300 functional windows — more than you’d find in most banking apps! Games also handle massive loads, with millions or even billions of users performing countless actions, and this experience provides valuable insights for warehouse robotics.

Another crucial aspect is analytics. In games, we had to quickly and efficiently analyze user actions, managing high volumes of data. The same is true for robots, which continuously send vast amounts of data that need robust processing and analysis systems. Additionally, creating AI agents in games to engage players is similar to programming robots, as both involve crafting intelligent, responsive behavior.

In short, if you can build and manage a game development team, you’ve got what it takes to lead a robotics team as well.

How has your role in the Artificial Intelligence Committee under Ukraine’s Ministry of Digital Transformation influenced your work at Deus Robotics?

The Committee’s goal is to advise government authorities on AI, including robotics. I joined to provide expertise specifically in robotics and to consult on government requests. We’re also focused on education, regulations, and pilot AI projects in Ukraine. 

Through my work with the Committee, Deus Robotics found a way to expand our passion for advancing robotics in Ukraine beyond just warehouse automation. This allows us to make a broader impact.

Could you explain the unique AI brain developed by Deus Robotics and how it enhances the intelligence of warehouse robots?

Our robot control software, dubbed AI brain, includes key technologies:

1. On-Robot Systems:

A system that collects and analyzes data from all the robot’s sensors, helping it understand its surroundings, determine its location, and make decisions.

A control system that manages all robot mechanisms, such as manipulators, motors, lidars, and cameras, to execute the robot’s decisions.

A 3D recognition system that identifies obstacles using 3D cameras and a lidar recognition system that interprets what the LIDAR detects.

2. Centralized Management Platform:

Our AI platform connects all robots via Wi-Fi, coordinating their actions and enabling centralized communication.

In warehouses, our centralized system is crucial. It prevents collisions by tracking each robot’s exact location in real-time, allowing them to move quickly and safely.

This centralized system also integrates seamlessly with the warehouse management system, making it a key advantage and streamlining robot management.

Besides being connected, our robots are also getting smarter. Thanks to the adapters for different robots, our system can integrate robots from various manufacturers, enabling them to share information and coordinate tasks.

Previously, robots could only coordinate with other robots from the same manufacturer. Now, they can exchange data and work together across different brands.

What sets Deus Robotics apart from other companies in the warehouse automation industry?

Unlike other warehouse robotics companies, we’ve developed the heart of what makes robots truly effective: their brain. Our AI-powered brain connects with robots from any manufacturer, including our own, turning even the simplest robots into smarter, more capable machines. This kind of interoperability is something special in the industry.

This is especially important because, typically, robots from different manufacturers don’t play well together. Each robotics provider only covers a small slice of automation needs, leaving warehouses to choose from too many options. Each provider also requires costly and time-consuming integration, making it hard to switch if you want to try something new. Plus, when robots from different providers can’t connect or be centrally managed, it complicates operations and limits your ability to scale.

That’s where we come in. Our system makes it easy to bring as many robots as you need under one roof, all managed through a single, user-friendly platform.

With our solution, you get:

All automation needs covered under one system.

A single integration for all current and future providers, eliminating repeated integration costs and allowing you to switch providers as needed.

An easy-to-use management system for all current and future robots.

AI-enhanced, smarter robots that work together seamlessly (what’s important, our system can connect with humanoids, too).

Ongoing training and support for warehouse operators to ensure smooth operations.

And the best part? Our solution is truly all-in-one. We offer robots that tackle 90% of logistics tasks (and counting), paired with our AI platform that ties everything together. With our system, you can easily connect robots from any provider, simplify your operations, and scale your automation like never before. This is particularly important as only 20% of warehouses are automated.

How does Lidar technology enhance the navigation capabilities of your AGVs compared to traditional methods?

When our robot spots a floor tag, it navigates with pinpoint accuracy — within 1mm. But when the tag isn’t in view, accuracy can drop to around 20mm. That’s where LIDAR comes in, helping to keep navigation precise even between markers.

LIDAR adds another layer of information, which we combine with data from tags and gyroscopes. Each source gives us different insights with varying accuracy. Our specialized system merges all these inputs to pinpoint the robot’s position with high precision. The more accurate the data, the better the robot navigates, and precise positioning is key to smooth and effective robot movement.

Could you describe the role and benefits of your Robot as a Service (RaaS) and Software as a Service (SaaS) models for businesses?

Buying robots requires significant capital investment, leading to a payback period of one to three years. This also ties up the client’s operating funds and increases capital expenses.

RaaS (Robots as a Service) is a game-changer for businesses. It eliminates the need for capital investment, relying instead on operational expenses. The payback begins in the first month, thanks to the immediate boost in productivity. Instead of needing 2-5 times more people to achieve the same productivity, robots enhance the efficiency of existing staff—at a lower cost than hiring additional workers.

Plus, RaaS reduces risk. There’s no need to freeze investments, and expenses shift from CAPEX to OPEX.

What are the advantages of QR Code Navigation in AGVs, and how does it compare to Lidar?

Automated guided vehicles (AGVs) follow fixed routes, navigating via floor tags instead of LIDAR, and can’t deviate from their path. In contrast, our autonomous mobile robots (AMRs) use 3D LIDAR scans for flexible navigation without relying on floor markers.

In what ways do Deus Robotics’ solutions address the current challenges faced by warehouse logistics and the 3PL industry?

Currently, we offer a solution that transports goods from point A to point B, which is especially appealing to fulfillment centers. However, the need to move goods exists in any warehouse — whether it’s in manufacturing, healthcare, automotive, or retail. In the future, we plan to expand our product line to include robots that can handle tasks like packing, loading and unloading trucks, unpacking, and picking. We’re already working closely with robot manufacturers to integrate their products into our lineup.

Another challenge we’re addressing to make warehouses more efficient is providing a unified system for managing robots — a single integration, management, and enhancement point. Our clients don’t need to deal with multiple robot platforms. They only need to integrate with us once and can then use any robots they choose. While our current selection of robots is limited (we have 15 models to date), we’re constantly working to expand it.

What advancements do you foresee in the integration of AI and robotics in warehouse automation over the next 5-10 years?

One of the biggest challenges we face is figuring out the best way to automate each warehouse. Even though warehouses perform similar tasks, they differ in the details — like processes, staff, the types of goods they handle, and their goals. Some aim for maximum efficiency, others for cost-effectiveness. Planning the right automation solution and setting up the best business processes takes a lot of time and effort from experts. I’m convinced that AI will soon help us design warehouse automation in just seconds, making the process much smoother and more efficient.

Another exciting development is the rise of specialized robots designed for specific tasks. While the first robots were built for general use, as automation grows, we’ll see more robots tailored to unique needs. For example, inventory robots are just starting to appear since most warehouses only need one or two.

Humanoid robots are also on the horizon. These versatile robots will be able to handle tasks much like humans, thanks to advances in AI.

AI is also getting better at helping people with their tasks, like smarter voice assistants that can offer guidance. Plus, AI can optimize warehouse operations by analyzing data and improving efficiency. With access to digital warehouse data, AI can quickly identify and fix issues, making everything run more smoothly.

Looking at the bigger picture, AI will also improve how different warehouses work together, along with suppliers and logistics partners. This includes better scheduling, moving goods efficiently, and predicting what will be needed next.

All in all, AI and robotics are not just tools for automation — they’re the keys to unlocking a smarter, more connected future for warehouses and beyond.

Thank you for the great interview, readers who wish to learn more should visit Deus Robotics.

[mobillalifestyle]

Earbuds & Power Bank Custom Corporate Christmas Gift | Mobilla

Mobilla earbuds and power banks make perfect custom corporate gifts for Christmas. You can place a personalized order to suit your preferences and share them with employees and business partners to create a joyful experience.

[thethief1996]

I can't stop thinking about the news out of Palestine. Israel is sieging al Shifa hospital. Videos of people's limbs being severed off are haunting (graphic video tw). The hospital has ran out of fuel and 39 babies in incubators are fending for their lives by themselves, because Israel has stationed snipers around the hospital and is shooting all medical crew that walks into their sight.

First, the narrative was Israel would never bomb hospitals. Now, the hospitals are Hamas bases. Then, we respect journalists. Now, we have a fucking kill list of journalists because they are Hamas collaborators. First, we are not letting fuel in until the hostages are released. Now, we are not accepting the hostages back because that would stop our ground invasion and let Hamas win. And I could go on about every single lie they're making up. If you look up "Hamas rape" on google, the first link leads to Times of Israel saying Israel has found no forensic evidence of sexual violence, and only one eyewitness testimony out of 3.5k people attending the rave. If you Google "Hamas beheaded babies" the top links say they have no evidence for the claim besides word of mouth from extremist soldiers. Israeli extremists think about the ugliest goriest scene they can make out in their sick heads, tell that to a international journalist and they run away with it like it's gospel.

And children are being killed in the name of these lies. Thousands are being displaced in images that remind me of the pictures of Tantura 75 years ago, with their hands up so the tanks don't shoot them. Amputees are leaving the hospitals in wheelchairs hours after their surgeries because they are being shot at. Elders who survived the Nakba on 48 are having to walk towards Southern Gaza on foot (imagine walking from one end of your city to the other on foot), displaced again. People are cheering for the haunting images of white phosphorus bombs being dropped over Gaza. Gazan workers who were arrested in the West Bank are being thrust back into the bombings wearing numbered labels.

This is not normal. We are seeing the early stages of the settler colonial genocide of an indigenous population. Native leaders who have visited Gaza say its refugee camps look eerily like reservations. We can stop this. For the first time we are able to see wide scale accounts from the hands of the people suffering the genocide, and Israel is so scared of it they have cut all communications in Gaza.

This is our litmus test. I think we have never seen more clearly, with Palestine, Armenia, Congo and Sudan how colonialism has made our world a rotten place to live in.

The South African apartheid collapsed due to boycotts. We have to do everything in our power to stop Israel's hegemony. Even talking to a group of friends about Palestine changes the status quo. There's no world where we can live peacefully if Israel accomplishes their goals.

Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:

Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss

Boycott Divest Sanction Movement

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US

Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.

Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.

You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. You can stop consuming from as many brands as you want, though, and by all means feel free to give a 1 star review to McDonalds, Papa John, Pizza Hut, Burger King and Starbucks. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:

Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, Israeli fruits and vegetables

Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)

If you can, participate in direct action or donate.

Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.

Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.

Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.

Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.

Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).

Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.

FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!

FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine

FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails

FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine

FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada

Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:

Global calendar

Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)

USA calendar

Australia calendar

Feel free to add more.

[informationnewsever]

Pakistani Mobile V/S China Mobile

Friends, do you know that in the company of men.China's government to mobiles,Manufactures and do you know,That mobile is a Pakistani brand and who made it plus do you know,That is China's mobile company.The company was acquired by China's entrepreneur Sky.This company was established by making more

[lesbianshowercurtains]

pussy so strong I broke th vibrator

[atoltia]

Promise of Wealth

Sylus gave you access to the entirety of his fortune, and yet you keep using it... on him?

In which the MC doesn't really care about his money so much.

Sylus and fem!MC fluff

Disclaimer: I've only been playing the game for less than two weeks so apologies for any mistakes.

---

To obtain power, one must have it.

It was a natural truth, one that he diligently followed. It took discipline to hone his instincts, experience to ensure success in his ventures, a raw, natural brutality that served to enhance his ideals and further his reputation not just as the leader of Onychinus, but as a conqueror known throughout the galaxy.

The simple utterance of his name invoked fear. The visage of him exuded wealth, so much so that he could buy himself a decent-sized country if he so wanted.

Sylus was perplexed.

He had all the wealth that he could possibly covet, is still planning to acquire. He owned several multi-million enterprises, resorts, hotels, villas and manors - all the material gains that one could only dream to have and made sure you had access to every single thing the moment the two of you made your relationship official.

He trusted you with his card, he's opened up your own bank account already filled with millions, acquired property and assets in your name. You could get anything that you'd want and he wouldn't bat an eye.

And yet the only purchase you made for yourself in the several months you've been together was a book that costed no more than twelve credits.

His brows furrowed when he saw the credit card reports. There were purchases made by you. Several, even. But the amounts of the transactions were unimpressive, with a few sizable purchases here and there. And he knew, of course he knew, exactly what those big purchases were.

The new leather coat the you had tailor made for him was hanging over his office sofa. The jeweled cuff links that you got for him twinkled prettily against the light of his desk lamp. You replaced his gun holster, saying that his other one was already worn.

He was sure that the twins were sporting new jackets with bulletproof lining seeing as the last ones got torn to shreds in a gun fight two months ago. Even Mephisto's perch in the living room was brand new.

The refrigerator was always stocked with a variety of ingredients that previously weren't in the usual lists, and after a conversation with the chef and the staff, he knew that they weren't the ones getting the groceries in the last six months.

It's not like it upset him that you didn't use his wealth. It was just rather confusing and amusing to a degree. Was this you being stubborn, perhaps? Or was this your way of keeping your independence? Hm, it wasn't like he was preventing you from doing your work. Not at all.

He thought about looking at the purchases from your own card, but then thought against it. From the time you've spent together, he doubted that the results would be any different.

But he could ask.

You weren't difficult to find. At this time of day he could often find you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book or fiddling with your phone, and today wasn't any different.

Soft music played from the record player next to the sofa as the curtains near the air conditioner rustled. You hand was outstretched, resting on nothing but air as you slept, the book that you were so diligently reading was strewn on the ground.

Sylus breathed out a chuckle as he leaned against the doorframe, just watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, shushing Mephisto when the mechanical companion fluttered his wings a little too hard.

But your training as a hunter wasn't for nothing. Heightened senses, even when asleep, was part of the package Sylus had to accept and fully expected when both of you moved past simply lovers to an official couple.

The flutter of your eyelashes was slight, but there was an alertness to your gaze the moment you awoke, quickly scanning the room without so much as budging any part of your body, and immediately calmed when you realized where you are and who was in the room.

"Mm."

"Hello, sweetie."

From beneath the covers you raised your other arm, reaching towards him when he strode towards you. It would be so easy for him to engulf you in his entirety. It wasn't lost on him that his physicality was so much bigger than you, but it was one of the things that you loved about him - loved at how easy it was for him to just pick you up and hold you, envelop you into his embrace.

"Sylus."

He loved the way you purred out his name, loved the way you just molded in his arms like warmed putty, soft and pliable as you positioned yourself in a more comfortable spot on his lap. He picked up the book from the floor.

"This is the book you bought."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you buy the others?"

You shrugged, pulled the book that hung loosely from his fingers before showing him the cover. "How would I know if the series is good if I don't buy the book first? It's a waste if it sucks."

He looked at you quizzically, smirked. Ruffled your hair.

"Oh, are you afraid to waste my money, sweetie? Fifty credits isn't a sum to be concerned about."

"Still," you pressed, drilling a finger into the spot that you know was ticklish, laughing when he grabbed your arm and bit your finger. "I'm not wasting shit on a mediocre book."

With your hand still in his grasp, he maneuvered you enough to have you be on top of his chest as he took your position on the couch, those long, long fingers of his kneading the dip between your hips. "Is it mediocre?"

"No. It's pretty good, actually."

"Then buy the rest of it."

"What if the third one sucks?"

"Sweetie," he took your chin, had you look into the deep scarlet of his eyes as amusement danced in it. "Just buy it or I'll buy it for you."

The look in your eye was indescribable to him. It was as if you were searching something that she couldn't quite grasp, couldn't quite find. He lightly bit the lip that you jutted out when you pouted.

"Do you not like spending my money?"

"I spend your money."

"Yes, but you spend it on us. Not on you."

Your brows furrowed. "So?"

"Darling," there was resignation on his voice as he flicked your forehead.

You frowned as you sat up, straddled him, your hands splayed on his wide chest. "I don't need anything. You already buy me things."

"And you need not more?"

"Sylus," you dipped down, cupped his cheeks. Kissed the tip of his nose. "I don't buy anything else because you already get me the things I could possibly need and more. So much more."

Those scarlet eyes regarded you as his fingertips ran up and down your back. You knew all too well how cold those eyes could get, how dangerous his hands could be. You knew all to well how easy it would be for him to snap you like a twig. You've seen it many times before, after all.

And yet he looked at you with such warmth right now that if you were a stranger, you would never be able to tell that this was Sylus, leader of Onychinus.

"I'll get you the entire universe if you so wish it."

And you knew, deep in your heart you know, that it was the truth. His truth.

So you told him your truth as well.

You straightened your position on his lap, careful to not... excite any other part of him as you reached from under your shirt, pulled out the necklace that he gave you all those months ago.

It was a simple little thing. A sizable ruby lovingly enveloped by two crow's wings made of polished silver. It was one of the first things he gave you when you accepted him, when you accepted his love and his force of will. When you wore it, you showed him that you accepted all of him, including his shadows, including his pain, including the violence that followed him wherever he went.

No matter how much glitter he decided to get you, all the shiny things he draped on you, you always came back to this necklace. It was a promise to him, as much as it was a promise to you.

"You gave me stability," you said to him as you rubbed circles on his muscled torso. "I won't have to worry about making rent anymore or if I'll have enough money to buy food for the next week. You gave me a home, you gave me companionship, you gave me warmth." And with every single gift of his, you tapped his lips. "Do you drive me insane? Yeah, you do." A kiss to his cheek, his lips. "But I'm sure I drive you insane much, much more."

Stillness descended upon you both, the music from the gramophone the only thing to indicate that time did not, in fact, stop.

"You gave me family, Sy."

Those large hands of his moved, prying your fingers from his chest as he slipped them between your fingertips before pulling you closer, gently, every so gently, peppering your neck with tiny little nips. He sighed.

"You will be my undoing."

You smiled, nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "As you will be mine."

So there you two laid, heartbeats and breaths syncing, his one hand stroking your back as he lulled you back to sleep.

And thought it probably wasn't the time to tell you that he bought a tropical island in your name.

---

still trying to grasp how I wanna write him so it might take a bit more practice haha I do have more sylus fluff planned. feel free to send ideas tho (preferably angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. i don't really like writing smut that much)

[orangameelectronics]

Why You Need a Portable Slim Power Bank 20000mAh Quick Charging Pd22.5W Dual USB Output

So, you're always on the go, and your phone battery just can't keep up with your busy lifestyle. You're sick of constantly searching for an outlet to charge your device, and you need a solution that can keep up with your fast-paced life. That's where the Portable Slim Power Bank 20000mAh Quick Charging Pd22.5W Dual USB Output comes in.

## Cell Type: 20000mAh Li-Polymer

The 20000mAh Li-Polymer battery in this power bank is a game-changer. With this much power at your fingertips, you can charge your devices multiple times without having to worry about running out of juice. Whether you're traveling, working, or just out and about, this power bank has got you covered.

## Output Interface: Type-C and Double-USB

The Type-C and double-USB output interfaces on this power bank ensure that you can charge a variety of devices quickly and efficiently. Whether you're charging your phone, tablet, or camera, this power bank has the flexibility to meet all your needs.

## Applicable Models: Mobile Phone, Tablet PC, Camera, etc.

No matter what device you need to charge, this power bank has you covered. Whether you're charging your mobile phone, tablet PC, camera, or any other compatible device, this power bank is the perfect solution for all your charging needs.

In conclusion, the Portable Slim Power Bank 20000mAh Quick Charging Pd22.5W Dual USB Output is the ultimate solution for anyone who needs a reliable, versatile, and powerful charging option. With its long-lasting battery, multiple output options, and advanced protection features, this power bank is a must-have for anyone on the go. So why settle for subpar charging options when you can have the best? Upgrade to the Portable Slim Power Bank 20000mAh Quick Charging Pd22.5W Dual USB Output today and never worry about running out of battery again.

[sukirichi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 | 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

In a world filled with too much cash and flashing lights, will a solemn and ironically private relationship of a celebrity chef and wealthy socialite branded as star crossed lovers remain full of adoration and sincerity?

cw. fem! reader. celebrity chef! reader. gojo is insanely rich. angst. unedited. suggestive (they make out and is implied to sleep together, but no explicit scenes are shown.) hurt with a little bit of comfort.

notes. i can’t explain it but there’s just something about this fic i’m not completely satisfied with... i feel like i could’ve written it better LOL but also i just wanted to write something casual

wc. 17k

divider from saradika-graphics <3

Contrary to what people may say, Satoru knows he’s worked hard to get where he is.

The silent yet sharp-tongued man whose mere sound of his shoes stepping in the hallway sent his employees rushing inside their cubicles with fear. Belonging to the top tier of society as a result of being born wealthy and powerful, his name was enough to have people’s knees quivering of what the young heir was capable of.

He had the world at the mercy of his hands.

His icy blue eyes were empty, cold, and relentless – a stark contrast to his angelic features that fooled people. With his face pasted on almost every magazine, and companies vying for his attention left and right, journalists begging for a five minute interview, it was no brainer the importance of Gojo Satoru. And with his looks that had every man and woman stumbling before his very feet, the line between angel and devil blurred thinner.

You see, being born a God in front of everyone’s eyes was not as easy as it seemed. Tabloids always spread fake rumors claiming the young heir did not deserve to handle his family’s group of companies due to the fact he didn’t even graduate college. Or that was too scandalous for his own good to keep up a good reputation. As someone who holds major stockholders in the mercy of his will, everyone expected better.

Satoru scoffed at it all. To him, those were nothing but measly words.

He was the Gojo Satoru. He could do whatever he wanted, however he pleased, and all the world could do about it was complain. Such rumors (albeit ringing with truth) did not affect his life whatsoever.

Still, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him how uncultured people preferred other companies to be on top of the food chain – like Zen’in Corp, or Kamo Inc. They had far better reputations (ha, Satoru thought sarcastically), and were more well-liked by Japan. Satoru knows better though. No one is truly kind when they had enough wealth to claim the world as their own. Naoya Zen’in’s smile was as natural as his blonde streaks, and Noritoshi Kamo wasn’t even the company’s real heir. The latter was a bastard, and the former an attention seeker.

At least Satoru was honest and did not put on any facades of being a good man. He knew he was not.

The other men were greedy, always ready to pounce at every opportunity to have another digit added to their bank account, their expensive colognes successfully hiding the stench of their evil nature and their perfectly chiseled features resembling those of a seductive demon’s. Satoru was not surprised that he was born in a castle that resembled hell. Though it does not bother him anymore, he used to be saddened by the fact that he had been close with them in his youth. They spent their days spent chasing each other in the garden and pulling the trigger of water guns mercilessly, but all that was forgotten when each of them were groomed into perfection, just waiting to see who would take over the throne and who would end up as subordinates.

A battle which Satoru won without breaking a sweat.

And just like that, friendships dissolved. Men who he once called his comrades became his rivals in the industry.

Being the eldest of the three, their blood boiled when the official announcement came: Gojo Satoru had officially been stated as the new president of the Gojo Group of Companies.

It was not an easy competition. The bond between friends were soon replaced with greed and hatred for each other. Both Naoya and Noritoshi were ready to rip him apart at every mistake he made, but they did not know how fortunate they were. While they spent weekends overseas in cruise ships with flutes of champagne delicately nestled between their fingers, fucking every pair of tits with walking legs, Satoru locked himself in an office at the young age of eighteen. Whilst everyone savored the flavor of youth, he was forced to make the wisest decisions when it came to business. And little by little piece, his humanity had shattered until it was destroyed completely.

Gone was the cheerful boy who always spent too much time playing with his dogs and not minding that his latest Gucci pyjamas had been stained with grass. In fact, he did not even remember that side of him existed at all.

That at one point in his life, he’d been a normal boy with a normal childhood – before the weight of the world wore him down.

Glancing sideways at his security team, the head guard, Toji, nodded and commanded something through his radio. All the guards dispersed and made way for him. In a matter of a minute, the employees who were walking aimlessly in his hallway had scrambled in their offices. Sighing tiredly, Satoru rolled his eyes. Toji opened the doors for him as he stepped out, the dull, gray exterior of the spacious room feeling like home more than anything else.

His secretary, Mei-Mei, bowed politely at him and handed him his caffė macchiato. His fingers reached for the cup before facing the glass walls. Beneath him, the entirety of Tokyo lay pulsing at his feet. With one scoop of his hands and a simple word uttered through his lips, he knew he could take everything. And he could if he wanted to, but such was the dilemma of having everything.

Satoru Gojo desired for nothing at all.

“This,” his father once said at the twelve year old him, his hand sweeping from the exact same place he stood in. “will all be yours soon, my son. You have the world in the mercy of your hands.”

The hot beverage burned his tongue. He reeled back, biting at his tongue in the process of soothing it as he listened to Mei-Mei list his agenda for today. He had just gotten home from Beijing less than an hour ago, and he couldn’t even sleep on the flight because he was swarmed with paperwork and a hundred more proposals to accept. Yet the exhaustion does not show on his face. In fact, there was a not a trace of it. His face remained blemish free and healthy thanks to the dermatologists who always gave him free treatments in exchange of endorsing them – which he never did.

Raising his chin high, he peeked past his shoulder to look at Mei-Mei, who had her tablet tucked in her armpit, silently awaiting his response. “Alert the Board of an emergency meeting within ten minutes, and I want Mr. Ijichi to bring me the real sales report regarding the Wangguo Resort for the past five months.”

Mei-Mei’s gasp is barely audible. Satoru knew his request was absurd, but it was her job to do everything he told her to. If she didn’t, well, the answer was clear as day. She could say goodbye to her lovely job.

Turning his back to her, Satoru scanned his nails lazily. He needn’t worry about anything. He knew Mei-Mei would always do what was needed at the price. But – his eyes narrowed – he was in desperate need of another manicure. Hours spent typing and calculating sales had chipped them, and he had to keep his appearance of a perfect man who had his life together. After all, he was Satoru Gojo – the flawless one. The god walking amongst humans. He could never quite tell when there were cameras ready to catch him off-guard, but he’d never risk that chance.

He had to be without fault.

“An emergency meeting?” Mei-Mei stumbled over her words, chuckling nervously as she swiped at her tablet, looking for a reason as to why he would ask her to do such a thing. Satoru nodded, fully aware that most of the members on the Board were in different provinces out to do their job, but he was the most powerful person in that building.

Nothing was impossible for him. His wishes were the law.

“What for, Sir?”

He slapped a red envelope with a golden seal down his desk, eyes forming into slits. Mei-Mei cowered under his gaze. “When I went to Beijing to check the status of our hotel, I found out that there had been issues regarding maintenance and plumbing reported for five months now, and no one told me about it? I run a five star hotel that exceeds the expectations of even royals, and I won’t forgive this treachery. According to the hotel staff, their supervisor had told them to keep the complaints confidential because they didn’t want me to know there’d been issues in the first place.”

Though he spoke smoothly and did not even stutter or waver the least bit, Mei-Mei had known him long enough to know that even the slightest twitch from his eyes meant he was furious.

This wasn’t the first time your brothers had tried to take whatever was yours in their possession, but the sales report of that hotel had been forged and the Board was aware, yet they did not inform you in fear of what your brother could have done to them.

This wasn’t the first time his staff had kept secrets from him. They all piled up until it became too big to ignore, and then Satoru had to step in. Seriously. Was he a joke to them?

“No, I take it back,” he said suddenly, plastering on a fake smile at his oblivious assistant who tried her best to conceal her relief. After all, Mei-Mei too had been tired with the amount of workload he gave her, but if she wanted remain as a woman with deep pockets, she just had to turn his wishes into reality. “Fire all members of the Board, and blacklist them. Make sure no local or foreign company will ever hire them, but because I am a man of mercy, they can still be hired as waiters or janitors.”

Mei-Mei’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, and it looked so comical Satoru would’ve laughed if he knew how to.

Instead, he smoothened out invisible creases from his three piece suit before sitting down, the harsh yet familiar blue light of his Mac desktop greeting him. His fingers skirted along the keyboard in the speed of light, and from his calm state, you would have guessed nothing happened, but this could be his downfall.

He’d always been warned to keep his temper in check, to think things through before coming to a final decision, but why would he?

If his own people would not respect him, then he wasn’t required to return the gesture. After all, he didn’t need them as much as they needed him. He could easily replace the figures making up the Board. But he was the president, the man who made those lazy, fat fucks rich. They had gotten too comfortable with their positions, and he needed to show them that he still held their lives on the line.

That ought to teach them a lesson.

“Sir, please reconsider this and don’t make decisions compulsively. The Board plays a big role in our company–”

“Tell me, Mei-Mei, is a King only considered a king when he has people to serve him?”

She falters for a bit, her eyes watching him cautiously. Satoru leant forward the slightest bit, the black glasses framing his face in a way he looked almost innocent. But the coldness of his eyes were enough of a telltale that he was not someone to be messed with. Aggravation and mirth danced in them almost mockingly. He could read her perfectly – this secretary of his. He’s not stupid; he knows she hates him. And why wouldn’t she? No one liked Gojo Satoru. He was mean, ruthless, and invalidated everyone who he deemed ‘lower’ than him. And yet, he hadn’t met a single person to prove him wrong.

The truth is that no one was as capable of doing things the way Satoru did.

He was the smartest person she’d ever met to the point it was frightening. Satoru always had a solution to whatever situation, with countless of secrets and tricks hidden under his sleeve. And he wasn’t as awful as everyone said he was. Yes, he was ruthless, that much Mei-Mei could admit, but only to everyone who deserved it.

Anyone who didn’t do their job right, or abused their power wouldn’t escape Gojo Satoru’s wrath. Call him a demon, or the devil’s son, but Mei-Mei saw him more of a judge who brought justice and punishment to those who did wrong.

Satoru leant back against his chair, satisfied with her answer before dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “A king remains powerful when his kingdom is omnipotent. I’m glad you understand that now,” he said, head snapping up as he remembered something. “Oh, and don’t forget to schedule a dinner with the others tonight at that new restaurant everyone has been crazing about.”

Mei-Mei nods, pressing ‘cancel’ to the rest of his agenda for the night. She made a mental note to call the restaurant ahead of time to tell them to reserve the place all for Mr. Gojo. Taking one last look at him, Mei-Mei realizes that if she wants to keep working with the devil, she had to stay on their good side.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Boss,” Yuuji whines, pouting as he holds your hands and shakes them in an attempt to make you reconsider. You merely scoff, freeing yourself from the younger one’s grip with a glare. “They said they’ll pay us handsomely if we reserve the whole restaurant for just the night, and I’m afraid we’ll close down if we don’t do what they tell us to. It’s not just anyone, you know. It’s the Gojo Satoru.”

You looked at him disapprovingly before resuming your task of cutting vegetables. “Our shop won’t close,” you reply confidently, “We only take reservations per table, not for the whole restaurant. They should eat somewhere else, I don’t care about the money.”

Of course you knew who Gojo Satoru was – everyone did. It was kind of hard not to know the guy when the entirety of Japan had been in love with him from the moment he was born. That wasn’t an exaggeration, either, because people actually had photos of the heir from when he was still a baby. ‘Such a beautiful boy,’ they cooed upon the sight of his stark-white hair. And when he finally opened his eyes, it was done for – the young Gojo Satoru had everyone wrapped around his finger before he even babbled his first words. So yes, you knew perfectly well who he was, and that was exactly why you didn’t like him.

For such a popular man, his reputation was anything but good.

You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or the restaurant you shed blood, sweat, and tears to build.

You were the newest celebrity chef the world crazed over. Not only were your dishes to die for, but your looks caught the crowd’s attention, too. Pair your introverted, awkward personality with your endless charm shown in your dishes, you quickly rose to fame. Tabloids and magazines alike starved to get a taste of your dishes – a glimpse of you, even. With the latest opening of your new restaurant in the city, people have been coming in endlessly, wanting to see the infamous chef for themselves behind the kitchen.

Yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.

Unfortunately for the media, you would rather hide behind the kitchen doors than have to go through another dreadful interview. Apart from a few pictures taken by the paparazzi and endless praises from your customers in your skills in cooking, you remained a mystery – something you’d prefer to keep.

Having Gojo Satoru and his ‘peers’ over would completely ruin that.

As much as you loved your career, knowing you made money doing what you loved, you detested the attention it came with being associated with the rich. One day, you were elbow-deep in your dishes, and then you were suddenly being invited to the most pretentious social events. Wealthy people roamed around, content with making the price tags of their clothes their personalities. You didn’t mind at first. It was exhilarating, even, to be thrown into a world so different from the one you were born into. But after one gathering where three wealthy men offered to hire you as their personal chef, and promised extra pay for ‘special services’, you left that world behind.

You swore not to be involved with the socialites anymore, even if it meant more success for your future. You cared less about the money anyway – you were confident in your skills enough to know you could pave your way with your own hands. You would never accept money from their deep, dirty pockets.

 “Boss, you need to see this!” Yuuji whispered harshly, tugging you by the apron. You grumbled upon being separated from your chopping board, but his words fell on deaf ears as you both watched the customers clamor in excitement, phones being pulled out of their pockets. Soon enough, your restaurant drowned with flashing lights, and an equally blinding smile from the tall man who entered, his cheeks flushed from all the attention. “Holy shit. He looks even hotter in person.”

Thankful that you had your contacts on, you could see the scene before you clearly.

The people rose from their seats, eager to have a picture taken with Japan’s most beloved. His security team immediately formed a protective circle around him when the people clamored, the Gojo heir apologizing because he didn’t allow pictures. He claimed tonight was a special night, and he merely wanted to have a private dinner with his childhood friends.

Oh, fucking great. He’s bringing others here, too?

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, two, black and sleek cars pulled up into the driveway. Naoya Zen’in stepped out of the car, shades propped on his tall nose as he smirked at the cameras already being flashed his way. From the other car appeared Noritoshi Kamo, his lips pressed into thin lines while blatantly ignoring the chaos ensued from their mere presence.

Your eye twitched. You could feel a migraine coming already.

To say you feel enraged would be an understatement. You pushed past your crew with a stormy expression, prepared to tell these stuck-up elites to go visit another restaurant. Was it really that hard to give you peace? You never accepted their reservation to begin with. However, you didn’t make it very far when you felt a strong hand grasp your arm.

“Boss, please hold yourself back, it’s just a dinner they’re asking for. If you intervene now, this could cause a public commotion,” Yuuji glances at the three men from the corner of his eye before warning you, “They’re not people you can mess with.”

Soon enough, his former customers had dispersed out peacefully with the assistance of the family’s security team, and he grits his teeth in an attempt to contain his anger for pretentious people like them, watching as they occupied an empty table. One of the waiters approached them nervously, three menus in her hands and she’s about to hand them out when the eldest looking one spoke irritatingly.

You huffed. You hated how he was right. Successful, you may be, but you could never come close to their level of power and wealth.

With an apologetic smile from Satoru – who made four women faint from the sight – your previous customers dispersed with the assistance of Satoru’s security team. You gritted your teeth in an attempt to contain your anger. They were so pretentious! Naoya, especially, flicking two of his fingers at your waiter as a signal to clean up the table he wanted. Scurrying on his heels, your staff nervously approached them while the others cleaned up in the speed of light, and handing them the menu’s with shaky hands.

Noritoshi nodded once at the waiter who approached him, while Satoru paid them no mind as he flicked through the pages. Meanwhile, Naoya clutched the wrist of the waitress who’d handed him his menu, brushing his lips against her knuckles.

You watched as your waitress froze. You were about to push his hand away from her when Satoru beat you to it, his voice icy and his words cutting like a knife. “Can never keep your hands to yourself, huh, Zen’in? With the amount of women visiting your estate, I’d have figured you would know enough to never touch a woman without her permission.”

Naoya scowled, immediately dropping your waitress’ hands before plastering another smirk. “No need to be a killjoy, Satoru. But anyways, what’s the reason for calling us out of the blue? You know well enough I had matters to take care of in Kobe.”

Satoru doesn’t lift his gaze from the menu. “Actually, I don’t know that. I could care less about your schedule. But I figured I haven’t seen my dear old friends in a while and thought a meal would be nice.”

Noritoshi spoke up, and Yuuji whispers to your ear on how he was one of the most popular models in the industry, and third to to them in the top bachelors of the decade. “Cut to the chase, we don’t have enough time.”

“Calm down, why are you in such a hurry? Let’s order first shall we?” You plaster on a disgustingly forced smile, taking the tablet Yuuji hands you as you gravitated towards Satoru. Stupid bastard – he doesn’t even look your way. “We’ll take the Spicy Uni-Lardo Sushi in Lettuce Cups and Foei Gras-Steamed Clams.”

He listed a few more – the most expensive meals on the menu, too – and you jotted them all down with steady hands. Although the restaurant was eerily silent, you could feel the crew’s eyes watching over you from the kitchen like a hawk.

“Will that be all, Sir?”

Satoru hums, waving his hand in the air. “You’re dismissed. Now leave us.”

Your jaw dropped. This little – Yuuji snatched you back into the kitchen, but you’ll be damned if you didn’t defend your honor. Handing their orders to the other chefs so they could get started, you leant against the kitchen doors and peered out from the cracks to eavesdrop.

“Because I treasure my dear friends so much, I won’t waste your time any longer and get to the matters at hand. Naoya, let’s talk about the chain resort in the Wannguo branch, and Noritoshi, here is your lawsuit for fabricating my sales report that’ll land you a free six year vacation in jail.” A white haired woman appeared out of nowhere, pulling out a black envelope with bold letters reading ‘LAWSUIT.’ Satoru swiftly picked it and slid it towards the raven haired man’s way.

Noritoshi gaped at Satoru, “What’s the meaning of this, Satoru?”

“I should be asking you that. Isn’t it not enough for you I collaborated on this project with you? Are you that intent on kicking me out of my own company you’re sabotaging your responsibilities and lounging around in London?”

Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But this was the type of drama you saw only in dramas, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from them even if you tried.

Upon looking behind you, you saw your crew had paused in their work, too, intent on watching the drama unfold before your eyes. The Gojo Clan were practically royals in the country, always portrayed as indomitable and powerful beyond belief. It seemed hard to believe there were things that got under Gojo Satoru’s nerve, with his friends, no less. Sure, you’d heard Naoya scamming people here and there, along with rumors of Noritoshi abandoning his work in pursuit of pleasure.

And, regrettably, you assumed Satoru wouldn’t be any different than them. Now, you were getting a front seat view of what truly transpired beyond the surface.

Gesturing for your crew to go back to work, they all grumbled but obediently followed anyway. You took your attention off them and glanced back at Satoru, taken aback at the sight of pure irritation for his company – and if you looked a little closer, hurt pooled around those captivating eyes of his.

Perhaps he was human like you after all, and while he didn’t exactly give you a good first impression, you were decent enough to respect this was not something you could keep on wathcing. Resuming your work, you began to heat up the pans, their voices distant yet clear.

“Jail? Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t belong in a place like that!” Noritoshi, the younger one, shouted with an appalled expression, his hands slamming against the table as he sent an almost pleading look at Satoru.

“Then you shouldn’t have fabricated my documents to begin with.”

“Be careful, Satoru,” Naoya warned with a harsh whisper, “We were born with the eyes of the world around us, one wrong move and I’ll have the media ruin your tarnished reputation even more. You may be the richest amongst us three, but don’t think you’re invincible.”

“You asshole,” Noritoshi retorted, thin lips forming into a sneer. “If you were going to file a lawsuit against me, you couldn’t have done it privately? Don’t belittle us, one bad review of this restaurant and this place will burn down to pieces, and I’ll make sure you go along with it.”

Satoru’s melodious laughter made you all pause. “A death threat, how funny! You both truly are so sweet, but let me warn you that I have the press eagerly waiting for my signal, so act on your best behavior and pretend we’re having a hearty meal together,” In a matter of minutes, you interrupted by showing up with their food. Satoru’s eyes lit up as he clapped his hands in faux enthusiasm. “Oh, the food’s here, eat up! My treat tonight since you’ll all be losing your money anyway.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Noritoshi glaring at his plate. Satoru had ordered you to serve him the seafood, and judging by Noritishi paling at the sight of it, he must’ve been allergic. Jesus. If he faints, or worse, dies at your restaurant tonight, it’d be completely pinned on you. You didn’t even do anything to be involved, and yet it seemed as if Satoru was dragging you down with him. Nevertheless, Noritoshi picked up his utensils. The scratching of silver knives against the plate filled the room, accompanied by the soft, jazz music that gave off a false, comfortable atmosphere.

Oh, but it was anything but that.

The tension was so thick in the air you found it hard to breathe. Satoru was like a ticking time bomb, Noritoshi was a few mouthfuls away from turning completely red in the face, and Naoya hadn’t stopped ordering refills of his wine.

Satoru dabbed at his mouth carefully with a napkin. What a shame, he thought. You had such a lovely restaurant, and your food was to die for. He would’ve enjoyed it if it hadn’t been for his so-called friends sabotaging his career.

“Here’s the deal – no, I do not need to make deals with my subordinates – here is what’s going to happen and listen carefully because I won’t repeat it again. Naoya, as from this hour, you are relieved of your duties as supervisor of our resort, but you’re free to have my vacation home there as compensation. As for you, Noritoshi, I’ll burn this lawsuit and forget your crime if you promise not to let even your name be spoken for the whole year. In other words: get out of my sight. Am I making myself clear?”

“How dare you do this to me?!”

“Sit down, Naoya, you wouldn’t want your pretty face to be ruined with that frown. Are we done here, boys?” Satoru enjoyed it, he really did.

To see two powerful crumble before him made him feel things he couldn’t quite put into his words. Entertaining, he called it, to know he was capable of cracking their tough personas. It made him wonder how many more buttons of theirs he could push before he destroyed them completely.

“Yes.” Noritoshi nodded with an almost pained choke, and Satoru leant back triumphantly. Because he was a model and sometimes an actor if he wished, he was more exposed to the media and cared more about his image more than Naoya did, thus making the former easier to manipulate and kneel down to his whim.

Satoru smiled, pleased. “Then you may go. Noritoshi, I’m keeping your car keys under my possession for the meantime, but my chauffeur will gladly chaperone you everywhere as long as I deem it necessary. And Naoya, I already sent my apologies to your escort, she’s as good as a stranger so you don’t have to worry about the press exposing your disgusting behavior.”

The latter looks up from his empty plate with wide, questioning eyes as if to ask how he knew about that, but he had never been a good liar. Satoru knew him well enough that he never took care of business matters and instead spent his days wasting the precious money his family had worked for just to pay the most ‘prestigious’ of escorts. He had a disgusting personality to ever make a woman land willingly in his bed, which is why he resorted to throwing his money just to have someone beautiful in his arms to flaunt off in social events, or warm his bed.

Though not in his line of sight, Satoru knew his bodyguard was watching. He stood up with grace, slapping a wad of cash down the table as a signal of his business finally dealt with. You expected him to leave the restaurant when he surprised you by heading your way. Eyes wide, your hands reached out to feel the doors when Yuuji subtly pushed you towards Satoru.

Oh, dear heavens. Yuuji was right.

The magazines and pictures of him didn’t do him any justice. He was absolutely breathtaking now that he was before you, his cold eyes now holding the tiniest bit of warmth as he regarded you. Back facing the other men, Satoru lowered his head. You stood there with baited breath, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips brushed over your ear. He was close enough that his expensive perfume wafted over you, and you could touch the ripples of his muscles bunching up against his baby blue shirt if you were brave enough to reach out.

“Thank you for the wonderful meal. I haven’t had a proper one since I was a teenager, and please don’t worry about what happened today, you won’t be involved in our personal matters. In exchange for your service, I will pay you generously.”

Satoru took a step back, and you stood there, muted and dumbfounded. You hadn’t expected he’d speak so softly to you when his words were harsh towards his ‘friends.’ And as if realizing the effect he had on you, a smirk ghosted at the edges of his lips. “Mei-Mei.”

Flashing you the best smile he could muster, he extended his hand to the side as his assistant pulled out a cheque. Satoru signed it without taking his eyes off you. He slid it your way, your eyes bulging out when you saw the ridiculous amount of zeroes he’d written on it. Instead of feeling pleased, irritation sparked in your veins.

You pushed his cheque back to his chest. And yes – your theory was proven correct – his muscles were hard and firm underneath that silk shirt. “I don’t need your money.”

You liked to think you had the upper hand when Satoru’s eyes widened by a mere fraction. It must’ve felt like a slap to his face, having someone refuse his money for the first time. But just as it came, the surprise vanished from his handsome face, slowly replaced by a teasing smile. Satoru leaned forward once more, bullying his way into your personal space until you were left with no choice but to share the same breaths of air.

He smelled like leather, wine, and something intoxicating that dared you to have a taste. Just one small taste, even if it meant possibly becoming addicted.

“Uptight and feisty, just how I like it,” chuckling to himself, Satoru draped his discarded suit jacket over his shoulders and sauntered out the door. “Expect me again, Chef. This won’t be the last time we’ll see each other.”

You prided yourself for being someone in control of their emotions.

Yet, you’re overwhelmed by the sight of hundreds of customers waiting in line as they all snap pictures and chatter excitedly among themselves. You frown when Yuuji barges into your office without knocking (a habit that you’ve told him to change, but he never seems to listen) and almost shoves a tablet in your face as he struggled to keep himself on his own toes.

“Boss, you should read this, it’s insane!”

“Gojo approved restaurant of celebrity chef, now a five star restaurant in Tokyo!” You read the headline monotonously, Satoru’s handsome face from that night pasted on the article and waving at the camera. You could almost hear his light, breathy voice telling him that one way or another, he would find a way to pay you. You can’t help but scowl, because out of all things, he decides to pay you with publicity and unnecessary attention.

“‘Members of royal families and prominent leaders from all around the world have been rumored to pay a visit to either one of the five branches of the new rising celebrity chef’s restaurant. Another hit for the Chef!’”

“Isn’t it great, boss?” the overly jovial noy giggled, and you try not to wallow in embarrassment. “That’s not all, watch this video, it was released last week.”

Yuuji clicked on a video clip, and you lean forward, ears intently focused on the footage. You’re not surprised to see Satoru walking down a familiar road inside one of the most well-protected villages. Adorned in a white fur coat with black slacks that hugged his legs perfectly, he approaches the horde of reporters waiting outside the gates with a polite smile. He waves at the flashing lights, careful to show off his Patek Philippe 5004T wristwatch.

Tch. Showy bastard.

“We saw you at The Green Garden last month enjoying a dinner with Naoya Zen’in and Noritoshi Kamo. Tell us, how was the food there?” A report asked, about to shove her microphone in his face that was blocked by his ridiculously muscled bodyguard.

Jeez, you thought, did that guy take steroids for breakfast or something?

“Oh, I don’t have enough words for it,” he purred, and you hold your breath for his next words. You’re a little surprised at how his breathy voice managed to sound commanding and husky at the same time. “When I walked in, the aroma was just mouthwatering, and don’t get me started on the meal itself. It was absolutely delectable, all the flavors practically melt in my mouth, and I don’t think I’ve ever spoiled my taste buds this much.”

Your brows shoot up. Did he mean what he said? People like him rarely spoke the truth – everything was a show for them. He would say whatever appeased the public, and you weren’t sure if he even had the time to enjoy your food considering he was stuck in… quite the predicament. Still, you don’t pause the video, barely hanging at the edge of your seat as you listen.

“I did hear the food there was good, especially since the Chef is quite gaining some popularity over the last few months,” another reporter stated, and soon they were all nodding their heads approvingly. “Still, you’re someone who has probably tasted something better. Would you recommend the Chef’s dishes?”

Satoru smiles, letting his bangs frame his handsome face as he stares right at the camera. You feel your breath get caught in your throat, solely because it felt like he was looking at you. Once again, you’re more captivated by the shine in his eyes, rather than the blinding light of his mischievous smile.

“Of course,” he smirked, “It would be a sin not to have a taste of her.”

Yuuji chokes on his own laughter beside you. He starts shaking you by the shoulders, completely unaware that you’re a goner by now. Everything the younger man says falls on deaf ears. You find yourself too immersed in the video clip, that teasing smirk on his face disappearing as th crowd pushed further and further. His guard steps forward just as Satoru flicks his hair to the side – an action that would’ve been condescending on most, but somehow looked elegant on him – and retreats back to his Audi. Not just any Audi either, but an e-Tron 2010 Spyder Concept.

Meanwhile, you can’t pick what could be hotter – that a man like him had the ability to make your usual indifferent self flustered, or that he drove a classic car instead of a brand-new one.

You shoot up from your seat, eyes narrowed and chest puffed with determination. “I need to go grocery shopping!”

It’s not rare that you went shopping by yourself. Yuuji usually accompanies you to complete the task faster, but you preferred to be alone today to take your time picking only the best ingredients. Not because you wanted to impress a certain millionaire, of course. Or was he a billionaire? You forgot, but he was definitely Japan’s darling, and one word of praise from him now had several bookings sent your way. He’d placed a standard, one you had to live up to.

You had three branches in the entirety of Tokyo, one more in Paris, and another in the Netherlands – the last branch you opened after you fell in love there during your last visit. The country enthralled you with its mesmerizing simplicity and beauty. It felt like a dreamland there, with everything from farm to table, and everyone adored the dishes you came up with. Once you’ve saved up enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life, you planned to live there – to spend the rest of your life in serendipity and contentment – hopefully next to your future husband.

Ever since you received the news (albeit without, the amount of people lining up at your restaurant was a clear tell-tale your sales had been skyrocketing), you admitted you felt pressured. You needed a variety of  ingredients to experiment with, and hopefully add to your menu – something that both common folk and socialites could enjoy. After all, your main goal was to provide a wondrous magic in the form of a plate that was both simple yet luxurious enough to enjoyed as a treat to oneself.

Crossing off the carrot from your grocery list, you keeps pushing your cart through the spacious area. Your attention is divided between reading your to-buy list to surfing through each aisle. There was always a hidden gem if you looked hard enough, and that’s what you needed. A wild card of sorts, a completely never-seen before ingredient used in a new dish.

You’re so immersed with the task at hand you fail to hear the sound of footsteps nearing. Reaching for a bottle of wine (you cringed at the price), another arm shoots forward to reach for it at the same time. You pull back, the skin contact almost scalding to you. You open your mouth to apologize, only to have the words die in your throat when you come face-to-face with him.

Satoru was no less than tall and mighty, his cerulean eyes hidden behind black-tinted glasses. You can’t help but run your gaze over his figure – he’s now dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked in his dark blue jeans. Simple enough, yet you knew the price tags of his clothes would be enough to have you faint.

“Hello.”

“Hello to you too,” he grinned, firmly clasping the wine in his hands. He twists it around, analyzing its content before he hums to himself, pleased. “Great choice of liquor. I highly recommend this.”

The words stumble out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“I had no idea you went grocery shopping– I mean, why would you? You probably have others doing it for you and this is just another pointless, boring task–”

Satoru’s laughter is enough to make you shut up. Yep, okay, you totally screwed it up now. You scold yourself for a split second for being so awkward and not greeting him properly. But then irritation creeps in because you know Satoru isn’t different from the others. You should feel thankful for the publicity, yes, because Satoru’s singlehandedly made you skyrocket into popularity, but your pride told you that you don’t owe him anything. However, all rational thoughts fly out the window when you find yourself joining in his laughter – actually smiling – that you have to physically stop yourself from doing so again.

What the fuck?

You don’t smile. You don’t laugh. Everyone’s called you unpleasant and you take that with your chin held high. Yet somehow… you can’t help it when you’re in his presence.

Satoru tips his head to the side, and you forcibly look away with a clear of your throat. “I’m not shopping,” he says, “I was going to ask you what you’re doing here, but then again, no one goes to the grocery but to shop, right? And you’re a chef, so it’d be a rhetorical question.”

You nod slowly, unsure of what he’s getting at. He still keeps a firm grip on the bottle before he hands it over, making sure to brush his skin over yours in the process. You fight back the urge to shiver. “1949 Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru, a vintage wine whose price was boosted for a post-world war appeal. Only a few hundred bottles are produced annually, and while not exactly scarce, it’s a rare piece.”

You scans the bottle in astonishment, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you debate whether to buy it or not. A second glance at the price tag and you place it back without hesitation, not caring even if you could afford it, because there was no way on earth you were buying a five thousand dollar drink no matter how good it tasted.

“I take it that it’s not to your liking?”

“I don’t. I’m not much of a drinker anyway,” you reply honestly, mustering all your courage to face him. “If not to shop, then may I ask what you’re doing here?” You look behind him to see if his secretary or guard was around, but he seemed to be alone. As observant as ever, Satoru answers your unspoken questions without missing a beat.

“I’m here for business. This place is mine, and I came here to assess its monthly status.”

You look down at your cart, suddenly feeling small and shy as you mutter, “Of course you own this place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks innocently, and you stumble over your words, your thumb circling your pointer finger nervously.

“I mean,” you start, pointing to the entirety of the brightly lit store that was almost the size of a concert arena. “This is a private membership grocery shop, and only people who are willing to pay a lot can go here. You’ve got many products here that aren’t available anywhere else, and it only makes sense it would be owned by the Gojo Family.”

“Owned by me, actually. This place was built when I took over, the idea entirely mine,” he corrects you and moves past, looking back with a confused expression when you don’t follow. “Well, aren’t you going shopping? Let me help you with it.”

You don’t know why you agree at his offer to help, but you don’t regret a single moment of talking to him. Satoru is stiff and rigid to his core, unlike his ‘friends’, but he was surprisingly a great conversationalist, and silences with him weren’t painfully awkward. He was also a lot smarter than he made himself out to be, but then again, you supposed one had to be intelligent to take over a group of companies at such a young age. And when he tells you deeply regrets not being able to fully appreciate your meals because he had ‘matters to deal with’, you can’t help the light fluttering of your chest that comes with it.

It starts out as slow burn, with a warmth barely felt if you didn’t focus enough. You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started to see him in a different light. In that moment, Satoru suddenly seemed small and almost vulnerable in your sight. Almost human. You can’t help but notice that he has his eyes glued to his feet – not because he’s uncomfortable with eye contact – making sure to not step over the dark lines from the white tiles. He was like a child going through an obstacle race, skipping at one point to another as he talks, and you stood there, wondering – just how much did this young man lose when he had to gain the world?

Through the eyes of the world, he was someone who had it all.

Born in a wealthy family with ancestors who never knew what the word ‘rent’ meant, and simultaneously blessed with good looks, you even remember a few articles written about him. How everyone was in awe and praising him for being a genius, but you believed everything came with a price – even the grandest of blessings.

You could only imagine what he must’ve been through. To be deprived of a normal childhood in exchange of a life of luxury, instead of being able to play under the rain. You could see him locked inside his father’s office, going through financial statements and attending board meetings at the age of sixteen. Meanwhile, you played at the cornfields with kids your age during that time, enjoying your youth and chasing after your passion.

But Satoru? He was constantly judged by the public for a single mistake, thus turning him into a make believe version of perfection.

Due to his lack of knowledge with cooking, he wasn’t of much help when it came to shopping. He was splendid company, however, and you felt soothed by his presence and his expensive perfume. It’s a scent you welcomed wholeheartedly, and so you find yourself asking him if he’d like to have dinner with you – at your restaurant – on a Friday night. When he doesn’t respond right away, you make up a lame excuse that you’re only giving him opportunities to look at the place much better than last time.

It makes Satoru stop in his tracks. You start to take back your invitation at his lack of a response when Satoru suddenly takes your hand in his, his eyes widening at how perfectly they seemed to fit (no matter how cliché that sounded.) He takes in the way your hands were rough and calloused from your labor, how it was a sign of all your hard work. Growing shy, you begin to pull back, but he keeps you in place – unconsciously squeezing your hand tighter.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes,” he smiles – and this time, it isn’t meant for the cameras. He’s not flamboyantly flashing his pearly whites, or trying to look perfect. It’s just him, with a small, shy smile meant only for your eyes to see. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“Okay,” you repeat, smiling shyly before finally – finally – squeezing his hand back.

You tug at your champagne dress uncomfortably. It might’ve been a little too tight for your liking, but Yuuji insisted it was the dress, and no dress would be better for tonight’s dinner. The strapless dress hugged your figure elegantly, the material flowing smoothly as it extends past your knees. Pairing it with some kitten hells, you were confident you cleaned up well – aside from the problem at hand that you couldn’t breathe. You weren’t sure if the dress was too tight, or you were simply too nervous.

You’d closed up the restaurant early in hopes of having some privacy, even going as far to close the velvety black curtains to hide yourselves from prying eyes. But with every minute that passed by, the special dish you’d prepared with your mother’s secret recipe grew cold. Not a single notification beeped from your phone. Not a text, or a call – not even from his secretary. Nothing but pure silence on his side.

Standing up with a grim expression, you pinch the candle to kill the flame.

What were you even thinking? Did you really think someone as untouchable like Gojo Satoru actually wanted to go on a date with you?

You looked around the restaurant that held a special spot in your heart. It might not be up to his standards, but it meant the world you. It was a product of your hard work and passion. This career enabled you to design it yourself, to build it from the ground up. You’ve decorated it solely to impress Satoru for tonight – with golden chandeliers hanging in a waterfall and teardrop patterns, the tables equipped with satin napkins and silverware polished to perfection. All that effort just went down the drain.

Your eyes fall to your wristwatch. Your father leant it to you before you moved to the city to follow his dreams, saying “Keep this, my sweet daughter. Time passes by so fast in the city and I don’t want you to lose a single second of your life. People will always pass by in a hurried blur, or not come at all.”

Isn’t that what you were doing right now, waiting for someone that might never come at all? He was right. You didn’t need to wait around. Satoru had his own life, he belonged to the city and its fast-paced rambunctiousness. You weren’t like him, you reminded yourself. You and him lived in completely opposite worlds.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you sigh and start to pick up the untouched dishes.

Gojo Satoru was a man who lived and breathed along with the city, the erratic pulse of the city lights resembling the skip in his steps whenever the paparazzi caught up to him. Even if you were somehow on par with him with your own successful career, tonight was still a harsh reminder of the fact that there would always be a massive difference between the both of you.

Your purpose was to serve people and give them memories of a hearty meal. Satoru bent people with his own hands, and obviously wouldn’t even give you the time of day. Perhaps you’d read the signs wrong – if there were even signs at all. One praise from him didn’t mean he liked you, after all, and why would he? He’d admitted out loud he couldn’t even remember what your food tasted like. Hours and years perfecting your craft, and he’d forgotten it all because ‘he had matters to deal with.’ God. Did he see you like that, too? Just another issue to be dealt with, another box in his list to be ticked off?

You’re about to throw away the wasted food when the glass doors of your restaurant opened. You stood back, Satoru all but running and heaving so heavily with beads of sweat running down his face.

“Wait,” he gasped out, raising a finger to give him a moment. “Don’t – don’t close yet. Just let me breathe.”

Did he run here?

Frowning, you scan his outfit. He’s dressed up more than usual today, yet his coat jacket is wrinkled and his hair is all messed up, possibly from running all the way here. His baby blue shirt is also damp with sweat. You immediately reach for some towels and make your way to him – reaching up to pat his face dry when the two of you freeze. Your eyes are blown wide, and so are his. His chest staggers with each breath he takes, and delicately, he holds your hand. His brows furrow and he exhales, his breath minty and his scent intoxicating. You’re captivated with every inch of him – from his white lashes, to the slope of his nose, the fullness of his glossy lips.

You never realized how much you’d missed him until you thought he would never come.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice willowy soft. Closing his eyes, he reaches for your hands, burying his cheek into it and pressing a kiss to the insides of your wrist. The action is unbelievably tender, surprisingly intimate, but could anything feel more right? “My latest shipbuilding company just launched, and we had the opening ceremony at my newest cruise. I would have gotten here on time, but the formalities took longer than expected when a Duke came to send his congratulations.”

You open your mouth to say it’s okay, but you know it’s not. He knows it’s not. It’s already midnight and he made you wait for six hours – no calls, no texts, nothing to inform you he’d run a bit late. It makes you feel stupid for taking the time and effort to dress up, enduring the pain of having Yuuji force you to try on different dresses that would suit you best. It’s embarrassing enough that you don’t have friends to share this moment with. The poor boy had been so excited, too, texting you every hour to ask how it’s going. You just didn’t have the heart to tell him Satoru wasn’t coming.

A pregnant pause settles between you. You see Satoru swallow and fidget with his hands, almost as if he knows you’re disappointed in him. You’re really not, though. At least it wouldn’t be disappointment that you’re feeling. You’re just… hurt.

You look at him one last time. You’re about to call it a night, because you’re a person of punctuality, and you don’t take rejection very well – all of which Satoru has made you feel sensitive over. Right now, you feel humiliated and belittled. Like your time wasn’t worth as much as is. But then you see Satoru, the way he folds in on himself, looking down at his feet and gnawing at his feet that you can’t help that maybe he, too, mustn’t have wanted to miss this.

Sometimes it is so easy to forget Satoru was human too. That he struggled as well, that with his power came with the undeniable fact that this friendship – or whatever this budding relationship is – would not be easy.

You sigh, flicking his nose to call his attention in hopes of lightening the mood.

“I understand your work is more important than a dinner with a friend,” you declare slowly, gauging for his reaction. “But out of courtesy, I would have appreciated an early notice if you couldn’t make it on time.”

Satoru’s face lights up. Pleased with your answer, and undeniably taken aback – he was a master in his craft of sales; he knew the right things to say to get whatever he wanted, but social interactions were not his forte. He realizes though, right in that moment, that it’s something he’d like to work on more. He doesn’t want to see that look on your face again when he ran inside – your crestfallen face, a momentary lapse of relief and worry, and now with hurtful eyes.

“I’ll take note of that,” he promises, already moving to pull out your chair for you. “Shall we have dinner, then?”

“Actually,” you start, with a glint forming in your eye. “I think I’d want to have dinner on this cruise of yours, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

Smirking at your answer, Satoru tilts his head sideways. “It’s not an everyday occurrence that I have to ask for someone’s forgiveness, so I don’t see why not.”

You liked to think you’re a simple person.

You love nature, and hold the firm belief that whatever is done upon you would always return back to the person. You remember crying in your mother’s arms when you were a little girl, frustrated that humans had tortured their own planet and how you wanted to reverse climate change. Growing up in the countryside surrounded by endless fields of crops and an abundance of greenery, the city and its chaos shook you to your core.

The flashing lights felt blinding and overwhelming. You hated the smell of smoke and pollution, feeling suffocated by the change in atmosphere. You found yourself often glaring at the tall buildings that always stood dominatingly over everyone, as if to say that its towering height could only be reached by those select few.

Its owners stood over you like gods watching from the sky, and they had the power to create their own temples that soared all the way to the sky – a galaxy and universe entirely of their own.

Now, you’re not so sure you still hold that same predicament as you take in the blueness of the sea, the salty breeze nipping at your skin. You welcome it with a shrug of Satoru’s coat around your shoulders, so enamored with the sound of waves lapping against each other. You don’t notice the man standing next to you, or the way he studies your reactions with an amused smile. He realizes you look so innocent like this – your mouth curling into small smiles as you point to the dolphins. The realization comes to him like a sudden splash to his face – that he’s never felt this light before, and it’s always only with you.

After taking you to his cruise, you practically pushed him out of the kitchen as you prepared another meal of two. The meal was nothing short of ravishing, making Satoru momentarily forget about table manners as he inhaled it. The expensive champagne and hors d’oeuvres sloshes around his stomach with each sway of the cruise. Dinner had been pleasant; you were a great listener who gave him his undivided attention – the type that made him squeamish because he felt exposed from the core within. He’d grown up used to people eager to please him, but this was the first time someone had listened to him intently with the intention of knowing him. And when you asked what made him sincerely happy, Satoru realizes that he does not have the answer to everything.

“I’m not sure,” he admits, twirling the fork aimlessly as he tries to avoid your prying gaze. “Happiness is fleeting in my world and… I’ve just never found it. My whole life, all I’ve ever done is work and make my business grow, and I guess I’m happy enough with that.”

You hum in response. He looks up to see you gazing at him, deep in thought. You almost looked sad in that moment – sad for him. It isn’t any later that he realizes you sympathize with him, an emotion he’d been alien to. It goes without saying that you felt the emptiness, the hollowness carved out from Satoru’s heart, and how lonely he’d been all this time. And you found it funny, how someone could have so much, and so very little at the same time.

“Come with me.”

He stares at your outstretched hand. It’s difficult to silence all the voices in his head before he places his hands in yours, trying not to melt when you smile up at him. Gently, you lead him to the balcony – the freshness of the air waking him up from his sense. Due to the fact that Satoru was a perfectionist and had zero tolerance, he designed the cruise himself to its glorious beauty. Yet he remained oblivious to the wonders of it all, the beauty of the moment from where he stood. The sea is calm and soothing, the whole expanse of Tokyo – his empire – visible from he stood. He tells himself the night isn’t beautiful because of the romantic lights, or the jazz music playing from the speakers, but rather it’s the celebrity chef who was starting to grow on him.

From the corner of his eye, he watches your smile grow bigger, your cheeks puffing out from the cold. It’s undeniably adorable. Ever since that night he met you, he’d read a few articles about you, and even had Mei-Mei call publishing companies to give him new copies of whoever featured you. You only had a few pictures taken – his shy, sweet chef – always wearing an apron and never a smile.

To see you with your guard down, looking so happy and free, he might’ve gotten his answer that night.

You were his happiness.

“Doesn’t it look beautiful?” you ask him, smile still so wide, and it is evident you adore nature. He makes a mental note to open an orchidarium soon, or perhaps a tea shop with only the rarest of leaves for brewing, silently hoping he’d get to see more of that smile.

“Yes, it does.”

Indeed, you looked beautiful like this. The bright lights of the city painted your skin in a warm glow. You looked like an ethereal combination between sunset and sunrise, and he swore in that moment you embodied the sea itself. You were calm, quiet, reserved – much like him – but you held this aura from your presence alone that made him feel safe; there was something about you that assured him he could just be… him.

You were like a breath of fresh air, and it would be a waste not to breathe you in.

Satoru calls out your name. When you look up at him, the breeze whips your hair to the side, exposing a set of hesitant eyes that makes him take a tentative step forward. It isn’t the wine, or the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He thinks it’s just you that makes him feel this way – undoubtedly whole and alive. He is not a man fond of making mistakes, and he is not about to make one now and not kiss you.

“Can I kiss you?”

He waits for it – waits for you to tease him, that he doesn’t have to ask. But there’s none of that. There is only the sharp intake of your breath, the minute way you grasp your pearl necklace to yourself. “I-I don’t know how to.”

Satoru steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away. You turn rigid despite yourself, feeling his hand cup the back of your neck. You tilt your head sideways to let him have more access, his warm breath that smelled faintly of wine fanning over your skin.

“May I teach you then?”

You whimper in response, and he holds back a groan at the sound, silently wishing to hear more of it from the future. When his pillowy lips press against yours in the first contact, your eyes remain blown wide as you stare back at his closed ones. Fear settles in you that this is your first kiss, and you have absolutely no idea how to do it. But then he pushes back with a little more force this time, and you close your eyes and moan, your lips moving in rhythm with his. Your hand reaches up to fist the silky fabric of his suit that hugged his muscular figure sinfully. He’s firm and solid under your touch, like an anchor holding you down. And his taste – he tastes like everything you’ve ever wished for, everything you’ve ever wanted. He is the wine you get drunk on, the sugar you lick off your lips, and the taste of heaven on this earth.

Satoru swallows the moans you make, his large hands engulfing your face. With each sound you make, his tongue playfully pokes at your lips, begging for entrance. And you let him, melting at his touch and held up only by his firm grip sliding down to your waist.

The first contact of his tongue coaxing out yours to play has you almost quivering under him. Those large hands come up to the bare skin of your back, his cold skin sending a harsh bite to your warm, flustered one as he holds you steadily. Your other hand reaches out to tug at his hair and he groans, a sound so masculine yet so wanton that a flame burns within you. You find yourself battling your tongue with his – a sensual dance where there are no winners. A minute passes before you two break apart, foreheads pressed against each other as you both try to catch your breath.

“Can I keep going?” He asks, his deep voice faltering due to the lack of breath. You feel triumphant knowing you did that to him. Nodding, he places his hands under your ass and squeezes it in a silent command to jump, and you do so with your hands interlocked at the back of his head. Satoru dips down to kiss you again and turns you into a moaning mess. He rocks his body against you, grinds his muscles to the softness of your body, groaning when his erection presses up to your heat. How he managed to pull away in between kisses is beyond you. “Are you sure about this?” He mumbles against your lips.

“Yes,” you plead, crashing your lips back down to his. And somehow, Satoru stumbles to a room where he finally gets a taste of you.

Satoru is woken up by the harsh lights glaring at him.

Groaning, he places an arm above his eyes before deciding to sit up and start his day. The freshly washed linen of the blanket pools at his waist, and he squints his eyes to take in his surroundings. For a moment, the bedroom is unrecognizable, and when last night’s events become clear to him, he chuckles drily to himself.

Had he gone so far that he no longer recognized his own bedroom? But then again, he rarely went home. His properties all looked differently that he wasn’t surprised anymore.

Your neatly folded dress sits at the bedside table. His shirt – nowhere to be seen. He finds his pants at the pile of clothes left on the floor, though, and he quickly puts them on before the amazing aroma of waffles welcomes his senses. Walking out the room, Satoru is pleased by the sight before him – you in his shirt, bottomless, humming to yourself as you expertly maneuver around his kitchen.

Smiling, Satoru walks to the marbled countertops and wraps an arm around your waist. You stiffen under his hold before you realize it’s him.

“Good morning,” he greets, deep voice still a little croaky and you greet him back, resting your chin on his shoulder as he watches you crack some eggs. “Did you get a good sleep?”

You shrug teasingly and brush your lip against his ear, “Kind of hard not to, after last night’s events.” As you expected, his cheeks soon become dusted in light pink and you chuckle, leaning back to his solid chest with warmth blanketing you.

“Sit down, let’s have breakfast.”

Satoru is more than happy to obey. Munching gratefully, the comfortable silence is almost too good to be true.

It’s been months since you and Satoru started going out. You’ve both done a good job at keeping it from the media so far – a mutual decision because you liked your privacy, and Satoru didn’t want anyone tainting what he held close. He’s grown so accustomed to your presence that half of his closet is filled with your things. You basically lived at his house in Tokyo now, and your body just naturally angles itself in a way that allows him to always have him touching you.

Although you still scrunch your nose in distaste at the thousand dollar monotonous paintings that decorate his walls, you like being with him. You soon learn of his weird habit of not closing doors simply because he’s always surrounded by automatic ones, successfully eradicating his attempts at being a gentleman and having him open doors for you, but you don’t mind. Not really.

The past few months have been nothing but eye-opening for him, as he learns to love for the first time, and he could only hope this feeling in his chest isn’t something fleeting.

You were affectionate, never lacking or selfish when it comes to showing him how much like him, and he’ll admit he likes your kisses more than he’d like to accept, and that’s how he knows this relationship isn’t one sided. Still, the small fear that settles at the back of his head remains, that maybe you don’t love him, or at least, you’re not there yet. Watching you prepare his breakfast every morning, however, Satoru’s worries are silenced. He’ll worry about that another time.

He finishes first and moves to do the dishes, the loud running of water muting your hurried footsteps behind his. He can’t help but smile when you eagerly take the sponge from his gloved hands and look at him determinedly.

“What are you doing?” He asks teasingly, and you stick your tongue at him.

“Move, Gojo. We both know you don’t know how to wash dishes.”

Even after months of being with you, he’s still not used to the fact that he – a man everyone admired and – could experience a love like this someday.

You scrunch your nose up cutely that it takes all of his willpower not to bend down and kiss it. “I said move! Scoot your cute butt out of here.”

“Baby, it’s okay, I know you don’t know how to do it and I don’t mind. Besides, I have to learn to do this. What if we get married and have children, I obviously can’t let you do everything by yourself.”

You freeze at his words, your thick-rimmed glasses sliding off your nose awkwardly. Your whole life, you’ve dreamt of love, and imagined settling down and having your own family. Despite your rising fame and success, turning you into one of the wealthiest women in your country, you never planned to live as a celebrity chef for the rest of your life. You wanted to live simply, much like your parents, and to spend the rest of your days in a farm.

You’ve thought it about before, of course, the possibly of marrying Satoru.

But the thought had been too ridiculous at the moment. Satoru was always somewhere far away, rising from his seat with practiced elegance as he received yet another presitigious award for his endless accomplishments. The cameras would be pointed his way, and he basked under the spotlight. He thrived in it.

Your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He watches as you revert back to your expressionless face, eyes looking directly forward at the white tiled backsplash of his sink that you know cost thousands. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

And it is true, you aren’t bothered by the least bit. Surprised, definitely, but you’re beyond elation at this point. You realize it doesn’t matter that you probably won’t get to live the life you want if you marry him – because he’s all you want. If giving it all up meant being with him, you would do so in a heartbeat.

Which is why you grit your teeth silently as you attend your first ball overseas, latched onto Satoru’s arm. You don’t miss the way everyone scrutinizes the seemingly average looking woman next to Japan’s darling.

Satoru doesn’t notice that you’re a bundle of nerves. He smiles brightly at the multitude of cameras pointed your way, making sure to show off the Gojo heirloom he decorated you with. It’s a gold ring with a hundred mini diamonds encrusted in it, the characters ‘Gojo’ engraved underneath. A horde of reports soon come into view, and instinctively, you duck your head when the lights become overwhelming. They all spew out questions asking since when the two of you have been dating – and this is the part you hated the most.

The part where your life becomes a piece for the people to feast on, instead of something you made for yourself.

You opt to stay silent and let Satoru answer everything. He isn’t fazed by the least bit, answering them confidently, although not giving away too much personal information. He tells them you’ve been dating for a year now, and it’s evident in his eyes that he feels strongly for you. Not a moment later, the cameras pan your way, the people eager to hear your side of the story.

“Chef, how have you managed to steal his heart?”

“As the old saying goes, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” you tell them, your heart beating a mile a minute from the discomfort of too much attention. You turn to your fiancé in hopes of consolation. He smiles at you encouragingly, the warmth and adoration pooling behind it immediately dissipates your nervousness. “As long as it’s for him, I don’t mind going to the moon and back.”

They seem satisfied with that answer, and you find yourselves in the front cover of both local and foreign magazines, the world crazed about the latest couple.

Satoru is lying on his tiger fur rug with crossed legs, leafing through every page of your photo album. His free hand absentmindedly rubs circles where it’s settled at your hip, the sound of his breathing steady and almost lulling. Yet, you’re bothered by everything lately – how you’re being reminded of everything you don’t like about this world – his world.

They don’t even know the real you. How could the world go from praising you for your skills in cooking, to being both shamed and admired for being engaged to Satoru? Your heart clenched at the multiple headlines that called you a gold-digger.

As if you didn’t have your own money.

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles, twisting a little from his position. You’re looking at everywhere but him, your heart heavy and mind a mess. It’s too late when Satoru notices the dark circles rimmed under your eyes, and he cups your face worriedly, tilting your chin to make you look into his eyes. Your own face has fallen, your eyes sad. He immediately feels guilt, unaware of what he made you endure at his expense.

Perhaps he wasn’t as observant as he claimed to be. Ever since he’s announced your relationship, you’ve received countless criticism from the public. Satoru never said a word about it, thinking these strangers’ words wouldn’t affect you, or that it didn’t matter because who were they, anyway? And you never spoke about it either, not wanting to put a heavier weight on his already burdened shoulders.

“I’ll take care of it, alright? I promise.”

You know what he means.

It means he’ll end up spending a lot of money – although to him it’s probably just a penny – as he has Mei-Mei get rid of those negative articles. You know he has enough power to shut down even an entire publishing company who attempted to say anything bad about you. You don’t want him doing any of that, abusing his power and throwing around his money just because he can.

Shaking your head, you reach forward and press your face against his chest. “You don’t have to do that. I just have to prove to everyone I am worthy of you.”

It is way past four in the morning, and you wake up with a stir, only to find the light of Satoru’s laptop illuminating his worn-out face. In front of him are a plethora of reports, glasses perched on top of his face. You sit up with a stretch, and he jumps a little at the movement.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” you answer, rubbing your eyes tiredly and looking at his work. You don’t understand half of it, but you knows it’s something about a new hotel he’s planning on developing somewhere in the country. “It’s late. Why are you still working?”

“Business is business,” he shrugs, focusing his attention back to his work. The development plan has just finished, and the cost of construction is nothing but another penny less to his account.

The silence in the room stills. You strain your ears to listen to the sound of a faint clock ticking, Satoru’s steady breathing calming your nerves. His eyes are droopy and tired, and he lets out an exhausted sigh. Reaching over to pull the laptop away from him, you gently place your head above his beating heart. His shirt smells faintly of floral detergent, and you fist the fabric underneath your fingers.

He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t need to.

He places a soft kiss at the crown of your head, once, then twice, and a small smile fights through your face. The rhythmic thumping of his heart is just underneath your open palm, and you realize that Satoru is like the man-made river outside your house. He is calm, steady, always lulling you into a state of relaxation, and the music that is his love hums softly through your nerves until he places himself inside your heart.

The darkness of your room is a huge contrast to the flashing lights always directed his way, but it fits perfectly. Satoru is silent, even if he always brought attention to himself, and his muscles are firm underneath your touch.

His bicep curls around you to wrap you in a one arm embrace while his other hand rubs your back soothingly, and your bare thigh brushes against his groin. An innocent and accidental gesture, but it has your nerves firing up, and it just occurred to you how small you seem inside his arms. You found it funny, since Satoru could threaten to take away everything from you, yet you don’t feel like that around him. Here, you feel safe, warm, accepted.

You nuzzle closer to him with a frown.

“Take me somewhere.”

His chest vibrates with a hum, “Where do you want to go?”

“Take me to where your heart desires. Show me where you want to spend the rest of your life.”

Satoru can’t contain the smile that graces his face, and he holds your hand as you stare at Leiden in awe. He’s decided to take a one week break, and soon the two of you were nestled against each other in his private jet, and he’s not sure if he’s ever felt this happy before.

He learns that you love art and fancy medieval paintings the most, and you bounce happily when he takes you to one of the art museums.

Leiden is rich in history and culture, that much is evident with how the people still keep their traditions alive, and while it is still quite a popular city, the toned down bustling of people will always be a much preferred scene for him than Tokyo. The two of you have rented a bike to Noordwijk Beach, and you make him promise to swim with you there the next day. Wordlessly, he nods, basking in the way the warm light emitted from lampposts turns you into an ethereal being.

After returning the bikes into the rental shop, you swing your intertwined hands back and forth, pointing excitedly and exclaiming your delight at the lakes that surrounded the city.

A windmill sits in the middle of the city, and Satoru falls in love with the place even more. A smile is permanently etched into your face, and his heart manages to stutter even after being with you for so long, but he can’t help it. Lifting your interlocked hands to his lips, he kisses your palm, a fine pink dusting his cheeks as you stare at him incredulously. A moment passes before you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Satoru didn’t know it was possible to blush even harder.

His stomach growls in hunger and you chuckle, leading him to one of your restaurants. Your waiters and chefs greet you excitedly, surprised that the owner dropped by unannounced. You lift a hand to tell them not to worry – you’re not here to evaluate anything. You’re simply on vacation, and you had full trust in your people. The pleased look decorating the customer’s face said enough that you didn’t have much to worry about.

Shrugging off your coat and placing it on the back of your chair, Satoru watches as you place your head in your palms, eyes directed outside the window. Outside lay the lake and a bunch of canoes housing the body of water, old couples walking around with wines hidden in paper bags, and the soft chatter and melodious laughter ringing from every corner of the place has him believing that perhaps this is paradise.

“Have you ever been before?”

“Once,” he replies with a small smile. “I came here for business. That hotel is mine.”

He points to a building that resembles a medieval castle, and you adjust the glasses perched on your nose to see it better. “Why am I not surprised?”

Letting out an amused laugh at your question, the both of you soon dig into the dish, bellies rumbling in satisfaction. You are half drunk on the way back to the small villa you rented, and he doesn’t question why you didn’t choose to stay at his hotel instead. There’s a little tumble to your steps as you stagger forward, mumbling incoherent words. Satoru presses you closer to his warm body to prevent you from falling forwards, his eyes crinkling when you tell him how much you love him. His heart whines at your words, because you’ve never told him that, and even though you’re drunk, he thinks he will be as equally euphoric if you tell him sober. He actually feels a little ashamed you said it before him because he’s planning to tell you sooner than later, and he clears his throat before pulling away from you.

You frown at his action.

Licking his lips nervously, Satoru pulled out a velvet box and went down on one knee.

“I know you’re drunk and this ring is a little too expensive than you’d like, but I don’t think there’s a better time for this, and we’ve been dating for so long that I just wanted to let you know–”

Grumbling in annoyance under your breath as an attempt to conceal your shaking knees, you lean down and pull him harshly by his collar to press your lips against his.

Satoru stiffens underneath your touch. He stops breathing, eyes wide from surprise. You only pull away when he doesn’t respond, your glasses sliding off your nose and bumping into yours. He lifts a hand to his wet lips, looking at you like you’ve just assaulted him, and judging by how plump lips looked red and swollen, you probably did. Not that he’d complain, of course.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

Satoru lets out a nervous laugh that is laced with elation, his breath coming out in cold fogs due to the cold weather. His hands are shaking as he struggles to wear the ring around your hand, to which you roll your eyes and wear it yourself. He looks sheepish for a moment, scratching the back of his head, but you can’t find yourself to care.

This is where you belong, with him, in Leiden, and little did you know that you were fulfilling his dreams one by one.

The both of you walk back home with bashful grins coated in glee.

Satoru feels stupid that he suddenly feels shy. It would be a lie to say he’s dreamt of this ever since he was a child because he grew up knowing very little of it. He’s never dated nor felt any attraction for someone, always focusing on his work and further expanding the business to the best of his abilities. He never dreamt marrying for love could be a possibility. That this was now his reality. And when you steal a peck to his cheek that makes his face heat up further, he realizes nothing has ever felt more right.

You’re the only one he would ever need.

To say that you’re ecstatic to plan the wedding would be an understatement. Ever since you came back to Tokyo with hearts overflowing with joy, you could no longer contain the love you had for your fiance. You’d been looking at endless articles of what makes a wedding perfect, and you already had your wedding dress in mind.

The food tasting appointment you had this weekend was on hold since Satoru still had a tight schedule, something about the launch of a new resort in Bali, but he comes back to you with tired eyes and a satisfied smile.

“Hey,” you greet, rising from the couch to help him with his bags. Not that you needed to, Mei-Mei and Toji were already taking care of them, but you still wanted to be of help. Shrugging off his coat, Satoru plops down the couch with a groan. “Long day?”

He pops one eye open to offer a languid smile, “Long week, babe. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you mumble, going behind him and massaging his stiff shoulders. Satoru lets out a moan at the sensation. And you? You can’t help but smile when you see that your engagement ring is still wound around his finger, and you wonder if the press had already noticed and started making a fuss about what you knew would be the wedding of the century.

Truth be told, you preferred the wedding to be small – with just your family and close friends. Satoru didn’t have any, but you respected his decision of hiring a wedding planner whose service cost a million. You protested at first, thinking it was unnecessary, but Satoru had already given you the check. The wedding planner seemed genuinely pleased to be working with you as well, leaving you with no other choice but to press your mouth into a thin line.

Ah, now that you think about it… “Are you free this Thursday? I wanted to introduce you to my parents.”

He stands up from the couch and walks to your shared bedroom, gently dragging you along with him. “Introduce me? Shouldn’t your parents already know me?”

You force a small smile as you bury yourself underneath the covers. “I meant formally, they’re going to be your parents soon, too.”

“Okay… talk to Mei-Mei to schedule that.”

You fight the urge to raise a brow. You couldn’t see the need to talk to his secretary to have time with your fiancé, but like you have been doing for the past few months, you only nod. Satoru wraps his arms around your waist after that, and it doesn’t take long before sleep blankets you both.

Somehow, you’d always known.

A relationship with Satoru wouldn’t be easy. There was too much unwanted attention and too little time to be with him. But he was worth the wait.

+

The food tasting went well. He ended up being more than pleased at your food choices, and you even bump your hips against his. Satoru wanted a cake that was two feet tall, with golden drapes hanging from the rods, silently demanding for caviar to be included. You shrugged it off, not minding his preferences as you continued speaking to the chef. The poor man had been trembling ever since Satoru walked in the kitchen, his phone pulled out and constantly interrupting the tasting as he speaks to his clients.

You felt bad for the old man, you really did. He was far more skilled than you, and you shook his hand politely before walking back to Satoru’s limousine.

It was finally time to meet your parents.

Reaching out for your fiancé, Satoru flicks your hand away. He shoots you an irritated look as he gestures to his phone, as if to say not to interrupt him during an important phone call. Reluctantly you retract your hand, biting the inside of your cheek as you let him go back to his business. Hurt and undeniably upset, you distract yourself with the small iPad on the seat in front of you, watching a lame show about fashion runways and whatnot.

“Yes, I know,” Satoru says through the phone, exasperated as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean he can’t make it on time? He needs to be there to check the labels – you know what? Whatever, fire him, I’ll go there myself.”

Sensing his distress, you turn to him. He’s huffing and crossing his arms against his chest, a livid expression on his face. You don’t ask what happened because you know you won’t understand. You’re only happy Satoru finally lets you hold his hand. Pressing his head against the seat, Satoru squeezes your palm, watching as the familiar buildings of the city soon blur into a scenery of corn fields and flowery land.

To be truthful, you think he’s a little too overdressed for this occasion. He’s wearing the latest Burberry collection, the shades he’d pulled to shield his sensitive eyes from the sunset a little too… flashy. But, you thought to yourself, Satoru could do whatever he wanted.

Finally, after a long and grueling car ride that seemed to last forever, you reached your destination.

You immediately run to the farmhouse, leaving behind Satoru in your excitement. You’d been away from your parents too long that you missed them dearly. Behind you, Satoru tries to keep up his face – gladly welcoming the fresh air. From afar, the door to your house opens as you tackle a small, older woman into your arms.

Satoru’s gait is slow, precise, and elegant. He walked with purpose, standing behind you silently as he witnessed the sweet exchange between you and your mother. It’s then he notices, when your mother looks up from your shoulders, that her eyes twinkled the same you did whenever you saw him. She’s sweet, and a little too bubbly, as she welcomes him to your humble home.

And as if you’ve sensed his uneasiness, you look back to Satoru and offer an encouraging smile.

The entirety of your house is as large as his bathroom. And your couch squeaks uncomfortably when he sits on it. The leather is tattered and foam springs out from the little cracks and you almost look embarrassed, but he kisses your cheek to reassure you he doesn’t mind. Your father soon emerges from the kitchen holding a fresh pot of tea that he offers, and Satoru takes a hesitant sip – your family anxiously gauging his reaction.

The tea… It was actually sweet and better than anything he’s ever had, and when his cheeks start to warm from the attention, you all start laughing for no reason.

Satoru joins in the laughter. He doesn’t know why he did when he found nothing funny, but felt that it was the most appropriate reaction.

It was no wonder then that you were such an amazing chef. You must’ve inherited it from your father’s impeccable cooking skills. The stew he prepared was amazing, and Satoru had to control himself from slurping the beef stew – it tasted that good. Dinner was absolutely amazing, and you kept laughing and smiling from your seat as you conversed with your parents. Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this happy.

The baby pink turtleneck sweater you wore highlighted the softness of your heart, and even a blind man could see you really missed your parents. He felt like a stranger then; someone who watched from the outside as your mother reaches over the table to wipe a rice grain from the corner of your mouth. You whine at her gesture, obviously not wanting to be treated like a little kid.

“Mum, that’s embarrassing. I’m with the love of my life, you know,”

He almost chokes at his spoon when you say that, and your mother grins at him. “I wouldn’t worry about that, my dear, it looks like he really loves you no matter what.”

“Yes, Mother,” he agrees, squeezing your thighs from under the table, “I really do.”

There was a warmth in your home that he’d never known, and laughter was always present. Much like you, your father was a man of few words and passed out on the couch after three bottles of soju, leaving you and your mom to clean up after dinner.

Satoru offered to help, only to receive amused glances as if you knew he couldn’t do it. Embarrassed, he excused himself as you cleaned up, and sat on the curb outside your house.

From his peripheral vision, he could see Toji beside the car, standing tall and straight. The cold breeze from the countryside made his dark hair blow across the wind. As if feeling there were eyes on him, Toji peered at Satoru, nodding politely before looking straight ahead. His suit was Giorgo Armani, the one he’d gifted him on his birthday last year. He’s well-aware that Toji ended up making more money driving for him than you ever could with your restaurant.

And this was his reality. This was his world.

Someone like Satoru shouldn’t be sitting on the molded curb of a farmhouse with nothing but mountain and hills surrounding him. The moon and the stars were the only things that gave light to the field, and it was too humble for his liking. He didn’t belong here – that much was clear – and even the scarecrow standing a few feet away from him seemed to agree with its mocking glare.

Much too soon for his liking, Satoru feels a wool sweater being wrapped around his shoulders. He turns to you, a smile already on your face as you plopped down beside him. Playing with your fingers, you keep your gaze down at your feet, hesitant and nervous.

“Satoru… I know you won’t like it, but I’d like to wear my Mom’s wedding dress. It’s fine if you say no, I know you had Vera Wang make an entire collection for me already, but I thought I had to let you know…”

Satoru starts to play with the straw in front of him. He sighs, fiddling his smooth fingers around it before he clutches your hand in his lap. He’d held you a thousand times before, and yet he couldn’t remember if your skin was rough or smooth – only that it felt warm and he liked holding it. And as if he couldn’t help himself, his gaze studied you – how your boots are a little too big on your feet, and you smelled faintly of hay unlike the Maison Francis Kurkdjian perfume he’d gotten you. It was limited edition, too, and he’d had to pull strings just to get you one.

And you couldn’t even wear it for tonight.

An almost choked sob leaves his throat, his heart clenching uncomfortably. He did want you to wear your mother’s wedding dress. Being here, away from the press and businessmen who always tried to mess up his deals when he worked honestly, made him feel like for once – he was a normal human being. That he wasn’t some god whose footsteps were worshipped.

Your mother had welcomed him warmly, and she didn’t even gush about the expensive fabrics of his clothes. She saw him as if he was her own son, and he supposed soon enough he would be, but would he be good enough? She’d raised her daughter as a warm, loving, and humble person. You were down to earth and loved to stay solid and grounded – Satoru was a man who always reached for the stars.

What did that make you then? His fall from the heavens?

Satoru wonders how much of his thoughts were written on his face. You watched him, brows dipped downwards with a clenched jaw. He knows you’re fighting back something to say.  He was too familiar with that look – since Mei-Mei always looked like that. The type of expression etched into his employees’ faces when he shouted at them for their incompetence, and they felt the need to defend themselves. They never did, out of fear Satoru would fire them.

Although you never said it, your face said it all.

He remembers the longing gazes you had to the farmhouses in Leiden with its windmill barns, or how your smile got bigger when a cute kid walked by and waved at you both. You don’t need to say anything because he knows what you’re thinking – that you’re blinded by your love for him.

He still remembers that damned event when your grip on his cat got a little tighter, how your hairline beaded with sweat as you kept fidgeting. You’d been uncomfortable that night, as you always did when you were in his world. You weren’t like this – placid, unreserved, happy.

And now he’s in your world. The words bubble up in your throat, wanting to wipe that disappointed look in his handsome face. You knew even if you say it now, Satoru wouldn’t listen or understand. And it’s funny – how he asked you to marry him, and how willing you were to give up on your dreams if it meant being with him. Even if it meant throwing yourself into unwanted attention, only to be criticized mercilessly – because that’s what it took to be with him.

He was a man with an empire, but with it came the price of being someone who destroyed others.

Somehow, it never crossed your mind it might include you, too.

“You’re right,” he says after a moment, “I would rather you wear Vera Wang’s gown. I hope you don’t find any offense in it, but our wedding will be the wedding of the century. I can’t have you wearing a nameless gown when the whole world will be looking.”

Your grip on his hand tightens for a second before it loosens. Satoru watches, with a heavy heart and an aching soul, as you nod slowly. Forcing a smile on your face, you stood up and walked away from him. You bid your farewells soon after that, with Satoru cringing the moment your parents began to refer to him as their ‘son.’

The whole ride back home is silent.

You’re passed out on his side, your soft snores filling the silence. Satoru reaches over to caress your cheek before leaning back in his seat, clenching his teeth hard to stop the tears from falling. He couldn’t put it into words – the air of finality settling over you once you reach his penthouse.

You’re exhausted from the day, stripping your clothes off before burying yourself under the covers. Your arm seeks out the familiar feeling of having him close next to you, and he indulges you, burying his face against the crook of your neck one more time – one last time. When you mumble his name in your sleep, Satoru swallows the lump forming on his throat, biting down on his lip before gazing at you – knowing you’d been his, knowing he’d miss this. Miss you.

And perhaps that’s what hurts the most – that he’s already missing you when you’re pressed up next to him, that he’s already mourning the presence of someone who he hasn’t lost yet.

But he knew, the end was inevitably near.

So he kisses you, long and hard enough that it hopes it leaves an imprint. You’re unaware of it all, still deep in your slumber even when his eyes betray him and a tear falls. The teardrop lands on your cheek before it slides down your jaw.

Above you, Satoru’s shoulders are shaking and he wants to laugh – because he’s never cried before. He’s never cried when his own friends tried to sabotage him. He’s never cried when the whole world called him a heartless demon walking in the body a wannabe man. He never cried when the world misunderstood him, yet here he was, perfectly content being in your arms, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

For once in his life, Satoru wanted to do what was right. If he couldn’t stop himself from ruining things and hurting those around him, then perhaps this time around he could prevent the only good thing to ever happen to him from shattering.

No amount of money would be able to give you what you truly wanted, and that’s all he had. Satoru had nothing but money, had nothing but it to offer aside from giving you back your freedom. He may be the one that you loved, and for that he would always be grateful, but he was also old enough to know that sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough. You had your own world, and Satoru had the entire universe.

The only world where the two of you could live happily was the one you spent apart from each other.

Unwrapping his arm around yours, Satoru silently trudges to the bedside table to wear his coat and shoes. Giving you one last glance, he takes off his engagement ring, and places it beside the framed photo of you and him in Leiden – this time with no flashing lights.

[sugasiren]

🧜🏾‍♀️ SIRENE (1009): Top 3 Sex Symbols! 💋

SIREN: A seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; A woman who is a very attractive but dangerous temptress. 🔥🔥

The Sirene (1009) asteroid is one of my absolute favorites to explore. 🧜🏾‍♀️ And I have many! Its placement in a woman's chart tells us about her brand of Dark Femininity. How she seduces and influences. How she harnesses her power and the TYPES of men who are helplessly drawn to her. 💋 Every Sign has incredible qualities! I'm simply sharing my Top 3 Sirens based on the research I've done. So enjoy and share your Siren below!

**FYI - Men with these placements are also very sexy and captivating in their own way. 💯 So I will include some famous examples for them as well.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Siren in Scorpio 🔥

Famous Women:

Sophia Loren (pictured above)

Sade (pictured above)

Lisa Bonet (pictured above)

Lana Del Rey (pictured above)

Dita Von Teese (pictured above)

Beyonce

SZA

Traci Lords

Monica Bellucci

Mae West

Grace Kelly

Bridget Bardot

Christina Aguilera

Angelica Houston

Zeudi Araya

Liv Tyler

Siren in Scorpio MEN:

The Rock

Brad Pitt

Paul Newman

Ryan Gosling

Carlos Santana

Idris Elba

Bruno Mars

Fabio

JFK

SCORPIO SIRENS lure you in with their hypnotic eyes that are as deep as the Blue Sea. 🧜🏾‍♀️ Their powerful aura will quickly swallow you whole and you will enjoy every moment of it. 💋 They effortlessly captivate and are explosive Lovers! They love to keep you guessing. As they know, you'll be addicted to the mystery of it all and keep coming back for more. And they're right! Just like Monica Bellucci and Lana Del Rey - these women can casually sit somewhere, smoking a cigarette, and *everyone* around them is watching in total ENVY of that damn cigarette. 🔥 Others like Lisa Bonet and Sade are gentle and ethereal but they will *still* snatch your SOUL. The Male Sirens are charismatic heartthrobs who make panties drop everywhere they roam. Women submit to them with glee. They want their 'Notebook' moment with Ryan Gosling, okay! And for The Rock to lay the smackdown (and pipe) on their kitty. 😺 And nothing less.

Siren in Capricorn 👑

Famous Women:

Brooke Shields (pictured above)

Megan Thee Stallion (pictured above)

January Jones (pictured above)

Stevie Nicks (pictured above)

Amal Clooney (pictured above)

Megan Fox (pictured above)

Teyana Taylor

Doja Cat

Mamie Van Doren

Ava Gardener

Mariah Carey

Shania Twain

Tyra Banks

Karrine Steffans

Amber Heard

Ellie Goulding

Eartha Kitt

Siren in Capricorn MEN:

James Dean

Robert Plant

Robert Pattinson

Matthew McConaughey

William Holden

Prince William

Kobe Bryant

Suge Knight

Andrew Tate

AJ McLean

Gerard Butler

CAPRICORN SIRENS lure you in with their deeply earthy, erotic energy. They are smoldering volcanoes underneath their cool IDGAF exterior and this enticing contrast drives people wild! 🔥 They have monstrous sex drives yet are very grounded in their personal power and selective about who they entertain, so others seek their approval. The Female Sirens often attract highly influential and/or dominant men who crave her submission and loyalty. Their desire to control her can truly consume them! 💯 They see her as the Ultimate Challenge and want her AT ALL COSTS. Their results vary depending upon what *she* actually wants. For instance, Amal Clooney. She was able to capture the heart of life-long bachelor George Clooney with impeccable ease. 🩷 He looks at her with stars in his eyes! They have the ideal marriage. Mariah Carey ultimately made Tommy Matola (the Record Executive who signed her to his label) wait until they were married before being intimate with him. She had such an effect on her ex-husband after **opening her luscious Pearly Gates** 🙌 that he put cameras up around the house to watch her every move. He was utterly obsessed with her! Amber Heard is an example of Capricorn Siren in full Destruction Mode. And Karrine "Superhead" Steffans in literal Maneater Mode slurping her way to THE TOP. The Male Sirens simply have Big Dick Energy - period. They are Doms, Bosses and Kings. 👑 Women yearn for them to (symbolically) suck their blood and their p***y like Robert Pattinson in 'Twilight' with carnivorous passion. 🔥 They want to surrender doggystyle to a man like Gerard Butler in the '300' movie. And even when they are stone cold killers like Suge Knight or manipulative pimps like Andrew Tate... they still command respect! They possess massive amounts of Masculine charm.

Siren in Sagitarius 👠

Famous Women:

Marilyn Monroe (pictured above)

Dorothy Dandridge (pictured above)

Rita Hayworth (pictured above)

Shakira (pictured above)

Indira Varma (pictured above)

Kim Cattrall

Margot Robbie

Robin Givens

Tina Turner

Dana Delaney

Emilia Clarke

Gwen Stefani

Aishwarya Rai

Rose McGowan

Sagittarius Siren MEN:

Paul Walker

Patrick Swayze

Elvis Presley

Clark Gable

Mario Lopez

Marilyn Manson

Shia LaBeouf

Michele Marrone

Marvin Gaye

SAGITTARIUS SIRENS lure you in like smoke rising from a bonfire in an enchanted forest during a Drum Circle. They illuminate dangerous levels of heat. ☀️ That will melt you like hot lava with their dynamic sex appeal. Baddies to the bone! Their esthetic widely appeals to the masses and individuals from *all* walks of life. People from *all* ethnic backgrounds admire and lust after them. 💋 They are exciting and make people feel ALIVE. And they're often the epitome of someone's Dream Girl or Guy. Marilyn Monroe is a FOREVER Icon who lives on generation after generation. 🌟 And her Feminine prowess remains unmatched no matter how much time goes by. Rita Hayworth is another immortal Sex Symbol and proud Latina. As is Dorothy Dandridge - who broke many barriers for Black Women in film and greatly appealed to a variety of powerful men such as Marlon Brando and Otto Priminger. Margot Robbie in the 'Wolf of Wallstreet' and 'Barbie' movies? 🩷 Nuff said! The Male Sirens are usually a strong yet suave bunch - like Clark Gable and Patrick Swayze. And that's a killer combination, my friends! They are often Rebels. 💪 Whether clean-cut ones like Paul Walker, goth ones like Marilyn Manson or rebels GONE WRONG like Shia LaBeouf. Either way, they are magnetic.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

And that's a wrap for now! 💛 I'll be back soon with more on SIREN and other awesome asteroids. Thanks for reading.

[shinsmarlboro]

Manjiro with a lover, who is a successful entrepreneur.

TAGS: SFW && gender neutral y/n.

manjiro loves staying in your office while you're working away on your laptop.

if you need help with advertising a product you are selling but you don't have enough funds for that, you best believe that manjiro got your back. he'd advertise your product legally and illegally he doesn't care, as long as you make profit.

he loves spending on you. he doesn't think of money as something significant, it's just something that comes along as he is a part of the yakuza. spending on you is his way of making use of it, otherwise he would barely take much out of his bank account.

he dislikes it when you don't pay much attention to him while working, but he won't immediately ask for your attention until he's sure you won't use the excuse of working to get him to behave.

“you've been working for 6 hours, babe.” he would whine and sit on your desk, tipping your laptop cover even lower so you pay attention to him.

“you kept track of my working hours?”

“mm, you could say that.” he would then move your laptop aside so he could wrap his arms around you while sitting on your lap.

your office is like his hangout spot where he falls asleep to the sounds of your fingers against the keyboard or where he sprawls onto the couch to read magazines, or sometimes he just lovingly stares at you with his hand against his cheek. you are more than certain that he has no idea how piercing his gaze is and how it makes you fidget in your seat.

izana tends to drop by here and there to drag manjiro away from you. he isn't too fond of you for ‘stealing manjiro away from him’ and often vies for his younger brother's attention and skills.

he thinks it's ideal that both of you are night owls, with him being an insomniac and you always making sure to burn the midnight oil. late work nights with you always seem more intimate for you two, even with unspoken words.

manjiro would invite you as a plus-one to events with izana where networking is inevitably bound to happen to expand your business and brand. he would ensure that you are dressed in the finest attire to make the best first impression. it is also an excuse for him to watch you prance around in different dresses as you ask him for your opinion.

“you look so hot.” he'd gush for the umpteenth time, not caring about the exasperation on your face.

“you're not helping.”

“can i help it if you look good in everything, baby?”

he'd notice your dissatisfaction and offer to buy all the dresses you had put on and forcefully get his brother to choose for you.

“sorry y/n, izana-nii’s better with all this fashion stuff.”

he follows you on business trips whenever he has the time, and extends them for 2 more days.

“manjiro fucking sano. let go of me, i…we have a flight back to tokyo.”

“oh no we don't. we're staying for two more days, baby! don't worry i’ve got it covered, let's go to the beach in miami. i wanna tan my skin like those blonde foreigners.”

don't even bother complaining or arguing with him because he will totally ignore you, take your suitcase from your hand and put it somewhere in the hotel room before pulling you to bed.

.

.

BONUS; BONTEN MIKEY HCS.

he finds it convenient when you work late hours at night and you are not there to witness his mental breakdowns. he isn't fully comfortable with being vulnerable with you. he thinks he's doing you a favour by shielding you from that weak side of himself.

however, he despises when you pay little attention to him when he comes over to visit (which is rare as he is the face and leader of the most powerful crime syndicate in japan) and it seems like you prefer your laptop over him but would act clingy only when you two are alone. he won't say anything, won't bother you but his body language would let you know that he wants attention.

you would hold his hand and type away with the other one (even if it is a bit inconvenient, there isn't anything you wouldn't do for your babyboy).

he loves it when you look put-together and modest in your suit or your long pencil skirt with your hair tied back in a bun or a slick-back. no matter how feminine or masculine you appear, he looks at you with a tender expression hidden under his brooding visage.

manjiro would hook you up with people that would have your business skyrocketing. you converse with them about market potential, growth strategies and all that jazz, while mikey watches you like a hawk or gets sanzu to do that if he has to leave the venue for whatever reason.

[1americanconservative]

Here is a wonderful little story A young cashier told an older woman that she should bring her grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. The woman apologized, "We didn't have this green thing back in my day." The young clerk said, "Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations." She gave him a firm stare and a hard grin and said “Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles, and beer bottles. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over. They were recycled. Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, which we reused for numerous things. We walked upstairs because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power did dry our clothes back in our day. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. The TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief, not a screen the size of the state of Montana. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded-up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades with a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. Back then, people took a bus and kids rode their bikes instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles in space to find the nearest burger joint. But the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing.” The cashier stood there still and quiet as the old lady found her wallet to pay. Then lady turned to leave but stepped back and turned toward the cashier. She said “You have a world of knowledge in that little device in your hand. Pity you just use it to gossip, take pictures, and waste time. It would do you good to search a bit of history before you embarrass yourself like this again. Forward this to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart-ass young person.

[evangelinesbible]

YOUR 4H AND YOUR FUTURE SPOUSES CAREER(S)

Derivative astrology timeee

7H = Spouse/ Marriage

10H = Career

10 houses away from the 7H is the 4H

SUN/LEO

Your FS will probably be someone who is quite popular or even famous in their career field. They’re probably a very creative person as well. They might potentially be any type of entertainer so, singer, actor, comedian or dancer. They might also have a job that involves children’s entertainment.

MOON/CANCER

Your FS might be a realtor or someone who builds/ flips homes for a living. They might have their own brand/ business that sells self care products. They might also be very creative and artistic so a painter, poet, or singer is very possible as well. They also might be some sort of nurse, teacher, or social worker for children.

MERCURY/ VIRGO/ GEMINI

Your FS might be a writer, journalist, public speaker or teacher. Their career field involves education and/or the mind. Your FS might also be some sort of influencer or their career involves social media. (Specifically for Gemini) Your FS might be some sort of vet, doctor farmer, trainer or life coach. (Specifically for Virgo)

VENUS/ TAURUS/ LIBRA

Your FS might be someone who is very invested in the fashion, art and music world. Specifically for Taurus they might be a singer, interior designer, chef, model, or someone who works with nature. Specifically for Libra they might also be a model, politician, lawyer, couples therapist, or a party/ event planner.

MARS/ARIES

Your FS might be into the athletic field. They themselves might be an athlete or coach a team. They might also be a personal trainer. They might have an independent brand, label or business. They’ll most likely have a job that involves leadership so directing or being a CEO.

JUPITER/SAGITTARIUS

Your FS might be someone who could do any career and they’d be successful at it. Specifically, they might be the most successful in a career that involves traveling and exploring the world. They might be a professional traveler, tour guide, flight attendant, pilot, or professor who teaches abroad

SATURN/ CAPRICORN

Your FS might be into business and marketing. They are most likely into the more corporate side of business and heavily invested in investments and stocks. They might also be some sort of doctor. They also might be apart of a management company or they manage a bunch of people themselves.

URANUS/ AQUARIUS

Your FS might be into all things science and electricity, they might also be a social media influencer as well. They might be some sort of scientist, engineer, electrician, or neurologist. They might have some sort of online business or their career in loves being online. So maybe a YouTuber or Streamer.

NEPTUNE/ PISCES

Your FS might have a career that involves glamor and spirituality. They might va more flexible and laid back job. They might be an actor, musican, producer or singer. They might be into tarot, reading palms, astrology, and they might teach all of these things as well. They might also be into film and photography.

PLUTO/ SCORPIO

Your FS may have a career that is secretive, private or invades their privacy. They might be in a career field that involves research, physiology, investigation, or witchcraft. They might be in a position of power as well so some sort of CEO or business person who is really good at investing. They also might be into the police force, military, or banking.

What’s yours? Mines Scorpio 4H with Pluto/ Moon Sagittarius. 4H ruler being 4H Sagittarius Pluto/ 9H Taurus Mars.💋

-⚜️💫⚜️

[starkeyslust]

𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍.

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨. 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙.

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝.

𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮/𝙣 𝙮/𝙡/𝙣, outer banks’ hottest couple. the couple everyone idolized and wished they could be. girls all over the island wanted to be her. guys all over the island wanted to be him. the parties, the drugs, the love, the money. what more could anyone want on the island of outer banks?

one look at the couple would leave you questioning how two people could be so picture perfect. driving their fancy and brand new cars, never dirty and never a scratch or dent. always smiling, showing off loads of pda on any occasion. looking like they stepped right out of a romantic comedy movie. the type of couple you would watch on the tv as a child and only dream to have the impossible.

she was a walking goddess. from her shining smile to her sweet angelic laugh. her hair was shinier than anything anyone’s ever seen. she smelt like heaven. her perfume was intoxicating and left anyone who smelt it in another mindset. she seemed to never have a pimple, a bad day, never a hair out of place. her skin was buttery smooth, shiny and clear. some would say she quite literally was glowing. always dressed in luxury brands, heels on any occasion, the newest and most expensive handbags with matching jewelry. her nails never having a chip. always manicured to perfection, toes painted white. she didn’t need to work, her family had it all. she had money up to her head, swimming in the bills. she just got to prance around town, going to every shop in the mall, just to go home to her prince charming.

he was the guy every girls wanted since he hit puberty. standing at six foot four, built with muscles that would have any girl fainting. his cologne reeked of money and power. his deep husky voice made anyone melt in their spot, fawning over his even deeper chuckle. his smirk was extremely attractive and caused far too many girls to squeeze their thighs together. his captivating ocean blue eyes holding an intimidating gaze but at the same time, all anyone wanted to do was dive into them. he was every girls dream man. the type of guy they wished to marry as little girl dressed like a princess. although his flaws were out in the open for anyone to observe. everyone in outer banks knew of his explosive tendencies. his willingness to fight anyone who ticked him off in the slightest. his haunting cocaine addiction that only added to the ticking time bomb inside of him. his deep hatred for pogues never went unannounced. if you weren’t his friend or fawning over him, you hated him.

he would die for you and he’s told you that far too many times.

what more could anyone want? a picture perfect life straight out of a fairytale with just the added bonus of a boyfriend who would fight any guy who even gave you a sideways glance. 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡.

keep your eyes up as you traverse the driveway, past the gates and up the steps to the front door. don’t bother knocking, no one’s going to answer. turn the knob and open the door. watch the true rafe cameron and y/n y/l/n unfold right in front of your eyes.

─────────────────────────

as many are lead to believe, rafe cameron is an explosive shell of a man who can’t handle his fragile masculinity being threatened. unafraid to scream in anyone’s faces if they try to test him. didn’t matter if it was his family, friend, man or woman. even his girlfriend. right?

let’s actually scrap that. that’s how he was before he met you. y/n changed his life around. he felt he was able to control his anger better. he could talk things out without a fight unlike his previous ‘relationships’. he felt calm when he walked the halls of his childhood home for once in his lifetime. only because he knew he was walking to him room where you resided. you and your warm embrace. your angelic laugh and cosmic smile. he felt like he was living in a fan fiction, a dream. in reality it was a nightmare, a horror movie.

six months and six days is all it took for y/n to change. you were a nightmare dressed as a daydream. you knew the game all too well. how to dig deep into his brain and feelings. you knew just the way to make him feel safe and secure. to back down. lose his confidence in defense. he won’t fight back anymore. that was something you are confident in. an confident you should be.

the first time it happened, it was a sunny saturday afternoon on topper thornton’s boat. rafe was talking with kelce while you and topper were at the front of the boat. he had just broken up with sarah and he always had his eye on you. rafe had been alerted by your all too familiar flirty tone and even flirtier giggle. it made his head snap to you guys, only to be met with your hand feeling up his bicep. he didn’t want to accuse you in front of everyone, but he was twitching to say something. an excuse later, the day was cut short and you were back in an empty tannyhill with no one but rafe.

“were you fucking flirting with topper?”

that set you off. how dare he accuse you of flirting with his best friend? “what the fuck rafe? why would i ever do that?” you asked in disbelief, anger bubbling all too quickly. although you knew that you were and you didn’t care. you would do what you pleased. he wouldn’t hear that from your lips though.

that was your first real fight. one sentence caused a full on screaming match between the two of you. one sentence caused rafe to find out who you really were behind those sparking eyes and perfect face. he should’ve known it was too good to be true. he would never get his happy ending. a guy like him didn’t deserve it.

before he knew it, you were grabbing the closest thing to you and chucking it with a strength he never expected you to have. it was a glass statue. one that shattered upon impact and left him littered with glass shards in his delicate skin. the impacted areas began to bleed nearly immediately and you just walked away. he would clean up the mess he started on his own.

he broke a seal that day. every little thing began setting you off that he did wrong in your eyes. which was nearly everything. the slightest tone change or glance in the wrong way and he would earn yet another bruise to his body. you were stronger than your small body gave off. way too strong. a slap, a punch, something thrown, it didn’t matter. you were doing one or all on the daily at this point. he put up with the torture for months.

rafe began crying more than he was smiling. he was left to clean up your mess on his own, bandaging himself up, crying from the pain as he showered. the hot water hitting every spot causing a burning sensation that made his body feel like it was on fire. he was living in hell everyday with you.

not once would he fight back. he knew you would run with it and twist the story. your father was more prominent than his and would do anything for his little girl. his life would be ruined way too quick if he put his hands on you. he took it with pressed lips and dull eyes that held nothing but pain and sorrow. the love that once lit up his eyes slipped away, taking his bright blue hue with it. leaving nothing but dull gray regret in its place.

it was only a few days after your thousandth fight that you began using his cocaine. you told him he didn’t need it and needed to stop anyways. it formed an addiction in your veins that left you high everyday, unable to function without it. it only made you meaner, stronger. the bruise here and there turned into bruises littering his body daily.

he had even ended up in the hospital once. he had nightmares about that day. you were cutting up some fruit when he set you off and your first instinct was to throw the knife directly at him. it hit just next to his heart by pure magic and he was rushed to the hospital.

you spent hours of your life putting makeup on his visible bruises to hide what you truly were behind closed, locked, and bolted doors. he was forced to act happy and in love. the pictures you two posted kept up the idea of just how perfect you two were. no one even batted an eye and the two of you. why would they? you were perfect together after all.

you sat at his desk, snorting lines while he was in bed rest from the stab wound. you starved him and would leave to be with topper. he could fend for himself after all. he was a grown man who did nothing but push your buttons. like a little kid in an elevator.

he would be in too much pain to move so he laid there until he was able to get wheezie to bring him something. he would open instagram or snapchat just to be met with pictures of you and topper. waterworks began like clockwork.

─────────────────────────

he would rather be dead than live another day as your boyfriend.

after being hospitalized again, rafe cameron had decided he had enough. once he recovered, he stood across the living room from you. he wasn’t backing down this time. he was fighting back.

“y/n you can’t keep doing this to me! you’re going to kill me! i never did anything to you to deserve this kind of treatment. i fucking loved you and you had the audacity to flirt with my best friend!” the blonde boy yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

you could only laugh, crossing your arms across your chest in a testing manor. “you’re a big boy rafe. you can handle it. i told you time and time again that i never acted in any flirtatious way towards topper.”

“that’s bullshit. i see all the shit you two post. no best friends post like that. especially when one of them are in a relationship.” he scoffed, rolling eyes following. “i’ve had enough of it y/n. i have no feelings but hatred for you now. i’m fucking done!”

“you’re done? good luck rafe. you can never leave me and you know that. your father will be pissed you fucked up such a big business deal for him.” you said, laughing at the audacity this boy had.

“i’ll tell him what you’ve been doing. why im really in the hospital, why his shit is really broken almost daily. i’ll tell the police, your family, everyone. you’ll be the one with nothing. i would rather be dead than with you another minute.” he threatened, narrow his eyes. his heart was racing a million miles per hour. his anxiety was through the roof and quite frankly, he was scared.

“oh yeah? you’re going to tell everyone? listen to me carefully rafe cameron.” you snapped, tone dark and senile. you began stepping closer to him. he only backed up in response until he was against a wall. he was trapped as you got in his face.

“you are nothing without me. you’ll have no friends left. everyone will believe that you’re just the same coke addicted, hotheaded, fucking piece of shit you’ve always been. you were always getting in fights and suddenly that just stopped? oh no. no one will believe that. you’re just an insecure little bitch with daddy issues. ward would never believe you and he will never love you rafe. you’re no sarah, get that through your thick skull. all that matters when it comes to you is that you see through this business deal for him. do you really think anyone will believe a little boy that can’t do anything right? a little boy that could never do anything right in the public’s eyes. keep talking your bullshit and see where it gets you.” you ranted, voice holding venom. a dark twisted laugh escaped your perfectly glossed plump lips. “if you would rather be dead, than so be it. i’ll make sure that happens. you’ve always said you’d die for me.” you said, a smirk growing.

your eyes were devoid of emotion, almost pitch black. he had never seen them like that before. he had never seen you turn into a full blown psychopath. he seemed to have really pushed you over the edge this time. he had a feeling he would never get his happy ending. he was about to meet his end today. there was no way out of this. he signed his death contract the day he asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes. he realizes that now. slowly as the minutes pass, he comes to peace with his inevitable death at your hands.

he was at peace with the fact he would never feel his fathers love. his friends aren’t his friends. you aren’t who he fell in love with. he was never good enough. just a fuck up. a disgrace to the cameron family name. you were right in the end. you always were.

─────────────────────────

rafe cameron’s death was the talk of the island. not a single soul wasn’t talking about it. you were painted as the grieving girlfriend who was the victim in all of it. an autopsy was never performed on his body. his death was passed as an overdose from cocaine. after all, he had loads of it in his room and all over his desk. his friends warned him about his addiction. it would kill him. only they didn’t realize it was a different addiction that would kill him.

─────────────────────────

𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨!

first fic! it went a completely different direction than i had planned but that’s alright! what do we think? i also haven’t proofread it yet, so excuse any typos! <3 hope you enjoyed it!