#Dw about coming up with questions
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Well, I'm slowly starting to run out of questions, sorry about that ^^; I'll try to come up with more eventually, though!
How did Anchor meet Laswell? Was it by pure chance? Was it through Shadow Company? Did Laswell just pick them up after a mission? Did they get slong from the get go or did it take some time as well?
Honestly I'm not sure how they met! I'm between pure chance and after a mission... I'll have to work on that
I think that they were a bit wary of Laswell in the beginning. She's incredibly smart, and dangerous, so Anchor wasn't entirely sure what to make of her. She's trustworthy though, and they eventually saw that. I think they had a strictly professional relationship at first until they loosened up after a few missions. Maybe there was a moment of vulnerability and she didn't take advantage of them, and that's what did it. Either way, they get along pretty well now. Anchor greatly respects her, her authority, and her opinion.
#cod oc: vodid âanchorâ leya#answered asks#Dw about coming up with questions#You've given me a lot to work with already!
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While we're waiting for the next yingdu episode, might as well keep myself occupied with something else happening with shiguang rn and that's the upcoming idv crossover. For the niche subset of ppl on tumblr who watch shiguang and also play idv, this one's for you, enjoy!
In the original crossover trailer for cheng xiaoshi and lu guang as the wu chang hunters, it implied that the pair dove into a photograph from the manor to do an investigation.
I thought that was a really neat idea and am now contemplating making a mini episode themed around this adventure. Knowing me, I'll probably just end up turning it into a joke, but idv is a really good setting for drama so we'll see what I come up with...
#shiguang dailiren#link click#æć
代çäșș#idv x link click#aashi doodles#if i had known about the first crossover back in 2022 i would have questioned why they made shiguang the tragic beloveds hunters#when the photographer hunter was right there!#but now with bridon arc im like oh damn đ„ș#also to the ppl waiting for my digimon ghost game episode I'll get back to it dw#ima just ride this hyperfixation wave and i'll be back on it right after đ (assuming i don't get swept up by another wave)#but it'll happen eventually its a wip thats well on its way#anyways ty for coming to my ted talk till next time
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being transmasc + pre t + visibly neurodivergent is such a great fuckin combo because everyone that so much as looks at you thinks that you're far younger than you actually are and treats you as such and even when you're talking to people who *know* how old you are you can tell. you can fucking tell they're doing the same thing even if they don't realise they're doing it
#like worst psrt is i camt even blame them#i dont know how to act like an 'adult'#my interests skew on the younger side and im fucking awful at talking to people#i have no experience with more adult topics because im not living a life where i *can* exoerience those things#and i dress like a 12 year old boy#but christ man. itd be fucking nice tk#itd be nice to not constantly feel like im being looked down on#to be able to talk about more mature topics without the feeling of being condescended to or told that 'ill get it one day'#*especially* when it comes to topics relating to my identity and sexuality. ive been out for 6 fucking years. ive spent every goddamn day#questioning and exploring and reinforcing and understanding it. i already fucking get it.#itd be fucking nice to hold a conversation with one fucking person and feel like we're peers#god. i dont know#if anyone i know irl os seeing this. first off im sorry but also yall are good dw#odds are im probably just making this up anyway#i mean like half of it is liteally jist my fault. i could learn how to talk to people and get more mature interests and learn how to act#like a real person#but thats probably not gonna happen !! ever !! so I should just stop caring about it#im always going to be the youngest and the least mature and the one everyone looks down on because i dont know anything (and im so fucking#ass at conversations I cant communicste the things i do know properly). who the fuck cares#we vibe#me.txt
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Hello chat.
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holds up this turret for you to look at
#eepy :)#merry christmas from him!!!!!!#his name is Diesel and he was a gift :)#anyways#MERRY CHRISTMAS#portal turret#portal 2 turret#sentry turret#radio rants#radio rambles#ALSO BEFORE PEOPLE ASK ABOUT MY THUMB BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE THE QUESTION WILL COME UP#i accidentally got a sort of paper cut from some cardboard#itâs okay dw :)
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feeling my interest in something die out has got to be the worst feeling
#no it's not sonic dw#it doesn't help that this is the main topic that comes up between me and most of my friends#myymi.thoughts#every time we talk it comes back to this and i can slowly tell it's not as fun for me anymore#i hate that.#well. i say it's a common theme but most of them don't talk to me about it#not unless there's a question they can't answer#so ig it's not a big deal im falling out of it anyway#it'll only really upset like. 2 people
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i enjoy seeing everyoneâs lists of wants for the new season of rhyme anima lmao like they all highballin for the impossible anyway i hope we get an nmcd song thru rhyme anima kinda like how we got tdd working together but betterâ
#this is vee speaking#FLASHBACK EPISODE BABEY LMAO#the bat stans in jp are wildin too dw lmao#idk what to expect from rhyme animaâ but i firmly believe that i will be watching stage kuukou animated rather than his canon self#but iâve also been thinking that since track 3 happened lol so i have come to terms with it for a while now lol#i had fun despite hang ups about characterisations and lore consistency so letâs go round two lol!!!!!!!!!!#i am very interested in how the 2nd drb will be interpreted tho!!!!! what changes????? like do they honobono at all?????#doâŠâŠâŠ. we touch on nb?????? mcd????? đđ i hope we do lol imagine rhyme anima ichiro trying to talk about kuukou đđđ#he was more adjusted in rhyme anima than his canon counterpart (so much so i questioned if he could make up with samatoki at all lol)#iâd love to know if that stays true with kuukou lol but letâs not jump to any conclusions here#weâre dealing with a BLOATED cast for 12/13 episodes lmao esp if we get chuuoku and secret aliens involved#iâm always down for well handled original stories!!!!! a branched path!!!!! hypmicâs multiverse LOL#c: rapping boys
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I want more lore about gallifrey and how time lord society works, but at the same time I love making shit up about it
#itâs fun trying to fit more world building into an already existing society#thereâs so much that doesnât really get addressed by the show that could happen#like I donât feel like enough attention is given to the fact that time lords are psychic#like yeah we have a few points where they talk to each other through a mental connection or alter memories but thatâs really it#(unless Iâm missing something which is entirely possible)#but I want to know how that fact influences their society#I also want to know more about how the academy works#like how long are they there for#is it split up into different parts like our schools are#what are the lives of everyday people on gallifrey like#we really only get to see stuff related to the doctor and time lord government#what about the plants and animals#what holidays do they celebrate#I have so many questions and while it is fun to come up with this stuff on my own (or as a fandom) I want there to be lore that factors#in to the show about this#that was a very long rant but I have a lot of feelings#doctor who#classic who#dw#new who#nuwho#the doctor#gallifrey#time lords
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Hi dumb question, is lysandre canonicaly vegetarian/vegan? Or did i hallucinate that being cannon??
you hallucinated that being canon i'm sorry to say. it is a big headcanon of mine that i include often in material i draw/write involving him tho so maybe i've influenced you lol
#la réponse d#this isn't a dumb question at all dw. gameverse canon very much ignores the weird implications of people eating pokémons so#afaik this doesn't rly come up at all#i know there are jokes about it in early anime ?
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home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.
âïž a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series âïž
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summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. Itâs gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you overâŠ
content âenemiesâ to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni
Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!
You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie
Brodyyy <3: iâm glad to hear ya say thatâŠbc i have one more favor to ask
You: whatâs up?
Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?
You: does he live near us?
Brodyyy <3: heâs from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my momâs car, so no extra driving for you!
You: yeah then i guess thatâs cool!!
You: as long as iâm home before 6pm on the 21st iâm good
Brodyyy <3: cookie day?
You: exactly, u get me
Brodyyy <3: dw weâll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!
You: np!
You: whatâs his name btw?
Brodyyy <3: âŠ
You: *questioned* âwhatâs his name btw?â
Brodyyy <3: rafe
You: be so fr rn
You: as in cameron???
You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??
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Hour one
You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, youâd never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.
âBrody, I swear to god,â you mumbled under your breath, âfive more minutes and Iâm leaving your ass.â
Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.
âHey wait up!â a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.
Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus.Â
It wasnât a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.
âIâm Rafe,â he interjected when you didnât greet him.
âI know,â you said dryly.
âMy reputation precedes me?â He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.
âI wouldnât be too proud of that,â you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. âWhereâs Brody?â
Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though heâd barely said two words to you.Â
Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him.Â
âHeâs not coming,â Rafe informed you. âDidnât he tell you?â
âNo, he didnât,â you huffed, âIs he okay?â
âYeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but heâs gotta stay on campus to do it,â he explained.
âHe couldâve told me,â you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. âIâm gonna have to adjust the schedule.â
âThe schedule?â He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.
It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip.Â
âI need to be home by six at the latest, itâs nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eightâŠâ you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.
âSorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,â he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. âYou donât think this all just happens naturally do you?â He gestured to his face.
You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear heâd just woken up.Â
But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.
âI wasnât waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,â you shut him down. âAnd since heâs apparently not coming, Iâm gonna hit the road,â you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driverâs side door.
You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.
âWoah, woah, wait,â he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.
You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, âuhm excuse me!â
âYouâre excused,â he smirked down at you. âHow am I gonna get home?â
âGreyhound station is that way,â you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.
âIâd rather ride with you,â he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.
âDude, can you just let me into my car?â You shut him down.
âWhatâs the magic word?â God, did this guy have a punchable face.
âPlease,â you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.
âHmm, no,â he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.
âOkay seriously? I know youâre used to using your body to get what you want, but itâs not gonna work this time,â you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. âGet away from my car.â
âI will when you agree to give me a ride,â his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, âor we can keep standing here and talking about my body.â
You couldnât help but blush, and he couldnât help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.
âWhy would I do that? I donât even know you,â it wasnât entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.
âBrody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,â he suggested.
âIf he wanted to cash in on his favor, he shouldâve been here himself.â
âOkay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? Iâll cover the whole trip,â he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card.Â
You couldnât help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy?Â
âBrody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. Iâm going west and thereâs no way Iâm getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?â You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes.Â
Time to bring it home, he thought.
âIâll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and Iâll be fine. Iâll be eternally grateful, Iâll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.â
âThe more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,â you said.Â
Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadnât missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
âPlease? All flights are sold out and Iâd really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,â he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.
Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.
With a deep sigh, you finally said, âfine.âÂ
Rafe slapped his hand on the carâs roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.
âIâll get you to the ferry and thatâs it,â you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. âI need to be home by six, if Iâm late youâre gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.â
He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, âscoutâs honor!â
âYou can throw your stuff in the backseat,â you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.
âWhat, you got too much junk in your trunk?â He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passengerâs side.
You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driverâs seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.
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Hour two
The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.
Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.
âSorry about the rattling,â you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. âSheâs a good car, but sheâs got creaky bones.â
âItâs cool,â he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.
âIâm sure the G-wagons youâre used to donât shake when you accelerate.â
Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.
âYou donât like me,â he surmised simply.
Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, âI- I barely know you.â
âThen why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?â
âMaybe I just donât like what you have to say.â
His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, ânah, I think itâs something else. Did we have a class together or something?â
âNo, just a couple mutual friends,â you smiled the fakest of smiles.
âYeah? Like who?â
âGirls youâve ghosted mainly,â you said.
âWhaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what youâre talking about,â he smirked.
âYeah right,â you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. âYou know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about, Iâve never done that,â he said.
âThatâs such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.âÂ
âGaslit? Me? Youâre crazyâŠâ he said.
You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.
You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.
âOh, câmon, lighten up,â he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat.Â
He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you.Â
âItâs college, itâs not that serious. Everybodyâs hooking up and breaking up. I mean, Iâm sure youâve had your fair share of flings,â his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.
You stumbled over your response. You werenât necessarily a shy person, but you didnât walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does.Â
âIâŠcan you stop looking at me like that please?â
âLooking at you like what?â He grinned, feigning innocence.
âLike you know me at all.â
âYouâre right, I donât,â he nodded. âThough I think Iâve pretty much figured you out.â
âOh have you?â Your eyebrows shot up.
âYeah, I mean, I have my guesses at leastâŠâ
âPlease, share with the class,â you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.
âYou were top of your class in high school, graduating with aâŠ3.97 GPA,â he began. âYou got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents Iâm sure. College isnât as easy as high school, but youâve settled around an A minus average final grade. Youâre not in a sorority, I wouldâve seen you at a mixer, but youâre definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, thatâs not practical enough, itâs gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said youâre what, pre-med? So youâre probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet youâve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but youâre too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?â
Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.
âMy high school GPA was 3.98 actually,â you said weakly. âAnd I donât like this game.â
Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.
âDonât worry, Iâm done playing,â he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. âWake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?â
âNo promises,â you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.
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Hour three
Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.
Rafe snored. Loudly.
You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.
Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.
âWeâre not moving,â he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.
âYou have great observational skills,â you teased him.
âYou didnât think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?â He said smugly.
âI did,â you defended yourself, âjust not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isnât usually so packed.â
Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.
âSo whatâs happening at six oâclock?â He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.
âHmm?â
âBefore we left, you said you had to be home at six. Whatâs at six?âÂ
âOh, uh, itâs kind of silly actually, you wouldnât get it,â you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasnât moving anytime soon.
âTry me,â he said.
You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.
âItâs because of cookies,â you admitted.
âCookies?â He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.
âMy mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing Iâve ever tasted. Theyâre so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. Itâs an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isnât supposed to give it to me until sheâsâŠgoneâŠâ
You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafeâs eyes on you, you pushed them back down.Â
ââŠanyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, theyâll attack those cookies and there wonât be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or Iâll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.â
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.
Finally he landed on, âgingerbread, really? They canât possibly be that good.â
âOh no, believe me they really are. Iâm not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing Iâve ever put in my mouth.â
Rafeâs eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre.Â
âOh shut up,â you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.
âI didnât say anything!â He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm youâd hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting.Â
âYou question the cookies and then you mock me,â you shook your head. âI should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.â
âNo, no!â He chuckled. âI would never question the cookies. Iâm sure theyâre delicious. Donât make me walk.â
You zeroed your eyes in on him, âfine. You're safe. For now.â
He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent âphew!â
After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.
âWhy canât you mom just make more cookies?â He blurted out.
Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldnât head in.
âShe, uhâŠshe just makes the one batch,â you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.
âI mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -â
âShe just canât, okay?â You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than youâd intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, âsorry. She justâŠshe can only make one.â
Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.
âAlright then, take the next exit,â he said.
âWhat?â
âIn a half mile on the right, take that exit,â he repeated.
âWhy?â you asked.
âI found a faster route,â he explained. âLetâs get you those cookies.â
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Hour four
Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.
With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.
It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you werenât the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes.Â
âIn one hundred and twenty two miles, veer leftâŠâ refresh âin one hundred and twenty miles, veer leftâŠâ refresh âin one hundred and nineteen miles-â
âVeer left! Itâs gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really donât need to keep refreshing it,â Rafe grunted.
You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket.Â
âRemind me why you couldnât just drive yourself?â You snarled. âWhat, is the Beamer in the shop?â
âItâs a Range Rover, actually,â he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled âof course it is.â âAnd yes, actually, it is.â
âAh, you pimping your ride?â
He snorted, âwhat is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.â
âI knew I shouldnât let you drive,â you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.
âRelax, it wasnât my fault,â he assured you.
âLet me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?âÂ
âThere was no other driver,â he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. âGlad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.â
You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldnât see the way you were blushing.
âOkay so whatâs the story then?â You asked.
âItâs really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, thatâs it,â he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone heâd adopted.
âYou saw âsomething?â What âsomethingâ did you see?â You pressed, amused by his discomfort.
âJust, uhm, an animal in the road,â he said dismissively.
You nodded, a little âahâ leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.
âWhat kind of animal was -â
âOhhh my god, youâre so nosy, it was-â he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, âit was a bunny alright?â
Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image heâd conjured for you.
âAlright, itâs not that funny but whatever,â he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles.Â
âNo, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry,â you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, âitâs not funny. Itâs nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didnât expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, itâs very cute.â
Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?
Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, sheâs just some girl.
âSo you and Brody, yâall sleeping together or...?â
Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.
Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.
âIs that a yes?â he continued.Â
âNot that itâs any of your business,â you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, âbut no, weâre just old friends.â
Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a pennyâŠ
âBut, câmon, youâre saying you two have seriously neverâŠâ
âEw no, heâs literally like my brother,â you shut him down. âWhy do you care so much? You jealous?â
Fuck, he hadnât meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field.Â
âYou just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasnât coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all thatâŠâ
âHave you considered itâs because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?â
Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway.Â
Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didnât give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.
His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun.Â
âWatch out!â You shrieked suddenly.
Rafeâs eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that heâd been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail.Â
âFuck!âÂ
He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.
Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.
âShit, my bad,â Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.
He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.
âThis is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!â You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.
âI said Iâm sorry! Jesus calm down, itâs not like I did it on purpose,â he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.
âNo of course not, you never do anything on purpose,â you quipped.
It took everything in him not to snap back with a âyou donât even fucking know me,â but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didnât like it, but he didnât like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.
âWeâre gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,â you said.
Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, âno can do, thereâs no stops on the schedule for an hour.â
âOkay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,â you argued.
âSo was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didnât stop then,â he countered.
âRight, because those things are comparable,â you scoffed. âItâs not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.â
You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.
âWell Iâm the driver and I say weâre sticking to the schedule,â he doubled down.
âSo Iâm just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?â
âI have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,â he offered.
The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafeâs bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said âKildare Academy Lacrosseâ and on the back âCameron #44.â
You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.
âUh, a little privacy please?âÂ
His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, âI just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,â he claimed.
You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.
Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.
The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didnât care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. Youâd tease him for that later.
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Hour five
Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap youâd mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.
Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.
âThatâll be $2.79, dear,â the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.
With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.
âSorry sweetheart, thereâs a five dollar minimum for cards,â she informed you politely.
âOh, okay,â you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.
----â----
The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.
âHow much was it?â You asked.
âDonât worry about it,â he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life.Â
You shouldnât feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, âneither a borrower nor a lender beâ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.
âHere,â you passed him the bag of trinkets youâd bought inside.
Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.
âWhat am I supposed to do with these?â He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.
âYou couldâŠgive them to your sisters,â you suggested.
âWhat are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says âVirginia is for Loversâ?â
âWell itâs better than a slip of paper that says âIOU one christmas present,ââ You teased him.
âYâknow what? Very true,â he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station.Â
The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookiesâŠ
âWhat are you smiling about?â Rafeâs voice interrupted your revelry.
âIâm just excited to get home and see my family,â you said with a happy smile. âArenât you?â
It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so youâd give him a ride. He couldnât tell you the truth; that he wasnât sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love.Â
âUh, yeah, âcourse,â he said, hoping youâd drop it.Â
You didnât.
âDoes your family have any traditions?âÂ
âLike what?â He knew what you meant, but his brain wasnât working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.
âLike, okay,â you started. âMe and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.âÂ
âHowâs he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?â Rafe questioned logically.
âOh Rafe, Iâm so sorry I have to be the one to tell you thisâŠbut Santa isnât real,â you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him.Â
He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, âyou know what I meant!â he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.
âWhat else do you do?â He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.
âWell, you know about my momâs cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- Iâm sure theyâve already gotten it this year since I wasnât home- but weâd always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.â
It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldnât see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.
âDidnât Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?â He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.
Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble.Â
âYouâre a mean one, Mr. Grinch,â you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. âNot a Christmas guy, huh?â
âArenât you supposed to be napping right now?â He brushed off your question.
âI donât know, maybe you shouldnât drive so grumpy.â
âIâll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.â
âOkay fine, but donât forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,â you reminded him.
âI know, I know. Are you always this bossy?â He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish youâd never opened up to him about your family to begin with.
With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat.Â
âBah humbug,â you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.
Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice.Â
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Hour six
In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dadâs Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread leftâŠ
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Hour seven
The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.
And Rafe was out cold in the driverâs seat.
âOh my god!!âÂ
You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engineâs rumble shaking the dash. The car was off.Â
You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You werenât driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.
âOh my god,â you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.
Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.
âHi,â he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.
You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard.Â
âOww, what the hell?â He sat up, rubbing his arm.
âWhere the fuck are we?â You barked at him.
âWeâre in your car on the way home,â he avoided the true answer.Â
âI said Iâd get you to the ferryâŠâ
âAnd would ya look at that? You did!â He smiled sheepishly.
With scarily accurate comedic timing, the shipâs horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.
âRafe, weâre on the ferry!â You yelled, smacking him again.
âWould you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured weâd just hop the ferry real quick and youâll still make it home by six.â
You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.
âJust barely! At this rate Iâll be walking in the door at 5:58,â you argued.
âAnd just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,â he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the âI Hate Rafe Cameronâ club.
âIâm gonna kill you,â you mumbled.
âOkay, well can it wait until weâre on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.â
He wasnât letting up on the flirting, and you werenât giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.
----â----
âItâs just up here on the right, that metal gate,â he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.
Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.
âWhat is it?â He questioned.
âI knew you were probably rich, yâknow based on your wholeâŠâ you gestured vaguely to him, â...thing. But holy shit.â
He grinned, âyeah itâs alright I guess.â
âOh whatever,â you laughed. âItâs like a fucking castle!â
With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafeâs face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.
âHome sweet home,â he said, feigning holiday cheer.
He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.
âI should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,â you said.
âNah you can give it back to me at school, Iâve delayed your schedule long enough.â
You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.
It was strange, you felt like youâd known him much longer than eight hours and yet you werenât quite friendsâŠyou werenât enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.
âWell,â you shrugged, smiling back, âMerry Christmas I guess?â
He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, âyeah, Merry Christmas I guess.â
With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasnât too much traffic, youâd get home with about five minutes to spare.
You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldnât help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.
Only, he wasnât going inside. Or maybe he couldnât go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasnât right.
Even though you knew you shouldnât, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didnât notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudlyâŠ
âThe Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I canât believe you guys just left without me...well I wasnât and then I got a rideâŠthis couldâve been avoided if youâd just sent the jet like I askedâŠsince when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!âÂ
The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldnât make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.
âY-yes sirâŠIâm sorryâŠyes sirâŠno sirâŠokay I willâŠI lo-â
The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.
âYou should get going,â he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. âYouâre gonna miss your cookies.â
Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, âdid theyâŠare they not home?â
âNah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,â he explained.
âOh. So youâre just gonna be here, like, alone?â
âIâll be fine. Iâm not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?â He gave you a tight lipped smile that didnât quite meet his eyes.
âAre-are you sure? You couldâŠâ You couldnât quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldnât bring him home for Christmas.Â
The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.
âIâm really fine,â he said, nodding his head toward the road, âyou should get back on the road. Youâve got a schedule to keepâ
You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.
----â----
Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry.Â
He wasnât your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didnât owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldnât be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, heâd be fine. Youâd get your cookies and heâd be fine.
âMaâam,â the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention.Â
You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time.Â
Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.
âWeâve got a schedule to keep,â the attendant urged. âAre you boarding or not?â
----â----
The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.
You knocked three times, Rafeâs confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said,Â
âYou owe me a cookie.â
(part two)
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a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!
for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!
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taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe
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tags: crack, fluff, implications of cheating (no cheating dw), satoru being his needy jealous self, suggestive at the end, based off a TikTok
âAre you cheating on me?â
Satoru couldnât believe his eyes â he wondered if even his six eyes were betraying him the first time he saw, but no, once he saw it a second time, he knew it was true.
You were ogling other menâs shirtless pictures!
He could see you zoom in on some shitty Instagram modelâs abs, and he couldnât believe it. You had insisted on having a mirror hung up on the closet door, stating it would be easier for you to get ready in the mornings, and he had readily agreed â and he knew it would be useful in bed tooâ
But he didnât know it would be useful in this way.
The last two nights he saw you zoomed in abs through the reflection in the mirror as you sat scrolling through your phone on your shared bed.
And right after, you had come over to kiss him â which he wasnât complaining about, but when you had his body to look at, why did you need anyone elseâs?
You look up from your phone to see your husband pouting, his arms crossed, âwhat are you talking about, Toru?â
âDonât you âToruâ me!â And you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, and stifle the small smile on your lips from your husbandâs dramatics, âI saw you staring at shirtless menâs pictures for the last two nights and I need the name of the homewrecker so I can go hollow purple him,â
You canât help but snort, âwell you wonât have to go far,â and he furrows his brow, âitâs you, you idiot,â
âEh? What do you mean itâs me?â And you flip your phone around, the picture of the affronting abs, only for you to zoom out to see his own picture, from the day you both had spent at the beach recently, butâŠwhy do you need a picture? Iâm right here!â
He takes off his shirt with one hand in two seconds flat, and you canât help but laugh then, reaching for him, and pulling him in close.
âI know, but sometimes I like to appreciate what I have, and I canât just ask you to strip every time I want to lookââ and he tilts his head, âI know youâd do it, doesnât mean Iâm gonna ask,â
âBut the real me is so much better,â he grumbles, and you laugh again.
âAre you jealous of a picture of yourself, Toru?â And heâs pouting again, and this time youâre kissing it away, before pushing him onto the bed, his eyes blinking up at you, as he grunts softly when you sit on his abs, âwell how about I show you how much I prefer your real life abs?â
And his pout is quickly replaced with a grin, his large palms resting on your hips, âCan you handle it?â
You grind slowly against his stomach, making him groan softly, a wicked grin on your lips, âyou know I can. The real question is can you?â
And after that long night, Satoru wouldnât stop sending you picture of his abs for a long while anywhere he was (much to his studentsâ displeasure).
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Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"
(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freakâąïž whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)
HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o
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Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
this is so me
Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff
Leorio Paladaknight
being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful
at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something
he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor
the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill
and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"
and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?
or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like
"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"
1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT
he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into
when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out
how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?
AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?
he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"
yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)
Illumi Zoldyck
whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power
aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate
that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually
when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why
that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face
"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"
he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement
i mean, to each their own am i right?
so you have ah hobby, big deal
Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home
so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup
you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win
Chrollo Lucilfer
he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his đ
he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery
you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff
he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass
but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF
he is intrigued
he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)
what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket
bro was so confused
"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"
yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that
he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself
he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to
so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you
he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process
you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more
Feitan Portor
I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe
whatever you do outside of it is your business
buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are
thus him finding out about your hobby and other job
out of everyone on this list he is the most interested
he too is a morbid little freak
he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him
what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things
sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that
Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't
after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that
he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3
#hxh 2011#hxh x reader#hxh#hxh illumi#illumi zoldyck#chrollo hunter x hunter#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#hxh chrollo#hunter x 2011#illumi hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter feitan#hxh feitan#leorio hxh#hxh fanfic#feitan porter x reader#feitan portor#feitan x reader#feitan hxh#feitan#chrollo x you#chrollo x y/n#chrollo#chrollo headcanons#chrollo lucifer x reader#leorio x you#leorio x reader#hxh leorio#illumi x y/n#illumi x reader
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cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (the tiniest bit), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg
masterlist | part 1, part 2 (they're all bite-sized, dw), part 4 (this one not so much), part 5 (this one too), part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9
You drop your new 0.38 ballpoint pen and it goes tumbling down, down, to the pristine carpeted floor.
Right where your jaw is.
âMy what?â
The man of the hour has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes.
Is it too late to actually follow through with your fantasy of strangling him?
As if heâs daring you to go for it, he tosses you the nth annoyed look of the night. âWhat did I just fucking say about not making me say things twice?â
You feel yourself flush with what you think is anger and embarrassment. âBakugou, sirââ
âAnd I thought I told you to stop calling me that.â
Smartass.
Thatâs it.
Before you know it, youâre already on your feet, stalking your way toward the man with the proverbial steam coming out of your nose and ears. His eyes widen in surprise as you get closer and closer before you stop right in front of his desk, towering over him for once.
âMy date? Really?â You sound so incredulous, even to yourself, and you canât help the seed of pride that blossoms over what you think is worry dancing across his features. Heâs out of his goddamn mind, and between the two of you, youâre not about to be the only whose feathers are visibly ruffled over this dumb-as-shit idea. He has no business being so cool about it.
Never mind that your heart is hammering in exasperation.
Yes, just that.
Shaking your head, you press on. âIn case youâve forgotten, weâre coworkers.â
You gesture to the space between you, and he merely raises his eyebrow in response with his strong arms crossed in front of his chestâsnobbish as ever. âYouâre my boss and Iâm your underling. And Iâm the HR head, for crying out loud.â
You pause to debate whether or not to say the next thing before deciding fuck it. âAnd what makes you think I donât haveââ
âDo you?â
Your face scrunches involuntarily at being cut off, âWhat?â
He leans forward, not breaking eye contact as if heâs challenging you. âDo you have a boyfriend?â He cocks his head to the side, âOr a date, at the very least?â
Your voice is small when you respond with the pitiful truth.
ââŠNo?â
At that, Bakugou grins. If you didnât know any better, you would say the fucking behemoth of a man looked pleased. He pushes against the edge of his desk, effectively creating a much more appropriate distance between the two of you. âWell, that settles it then. Iâll be your dashing date, we show up to your shitty exâs wedding, and I finally teach that dickhead a lesson or two.â
A million questions start racing in your head, like: Why is this his first solution to the problem? Did he even consider whether or not you wanted to go in the first place? What did he mean by finally? And justâwhy?
But the one you manage to stammer out is: âDudeâwhat the fuck are you going to do? Are you about to mangle a guy at his wedding?!â
He looks at you like you just unceremoniously bit his ass. âWhat? No. What do you take me for, a brainless Nomu who just goes apeshit?â
You can only grumble in response. Yes, sometimes.
He sighs for the umpteenth time as if youâre the one who has steered the already unpleasant conversation into this bizarre topic. He stands up from his seat, and youâre back to being the one looking up at him.
The same thing probably registers in his mind because a smug look takes over his features within seconds.
âAnd, if you must know, Iâm going to do so by being the best trophy date ever.â
You fight the reflex to choke at his words. Instead, you squint your eyes and muster your most scrutinizing gaze. âWhy are you doing this?â
Bakugou doesnât respond for a while, choosing to circle his desk and plant himself to your right. Before you can even comprehend whatâs going on, let alone jerk back at the proximity, he bends toward you until his mouth is a breadth away from your ear. His minty breath tickles your skin when he finally says: âIâm a hero, remember?â
With that, the âheroâ in question sashays to the glass doorway like he didnât just drop a bomb on you, leaving you slackjawed and unresponsive.
Heâs almost out of view by the time you manage to collect yourself and blurt out a reply.
âHey, where are you going? We still have work to do.â
âRelax,â he calls out from the hallway, his voice receding as he walks farther and farther away from you. ââm just gonna take a piss.â
When youâre sure heâs out of earshot, you slump back in your seat, all the strength thatâs left apparently having dissipated after that ludicrous exchange.
How could he throw every caution to the wind just like that? Did he forget he was just one spot away from being number 1? His PR team is going to kill both of you for even thinking this.
As you wait for Bakugou to finish his trip to the comfort room, you canât help but contemplate the absurd idea. Needless to say, and despite Bakugouâs apparent nonchalance, thereâs planning involved.
What are people going to say? If (once) the people from your agencyâno, anyone who knows the #2 Prohero, really (which is virtually everyone)âfind out, youâre toast. Youâre going to be the subject of every tabloid in Musutafuâno, the entirety of Japan and maybe even in some news sites overseasâand you are absolutely not ready for that scrutinization.
And all that over a one-day fake dating stint? Youâve got to be kidding yourself.
But the more you think about it, the less foreign and preposterous the idea becomes. You know you shouldnât even be considering it, but you canât help it.
Getting dumped by your boyfriend over the phone only for him to reconnect with his high school sweetheart (did they even ever lose touch?) and get engaged five months later was humbling enough, let alone going to his wedding alone?
The first, obvious answer when you first saw the invite in the mail was to not go. But the more you sat on it, the more you realized how pitiful it would be to be a no-show. Was not going wiser than going alone? Probably. But youâre sick of hidingâ avoidingâand you promised yourself this year that youâll be facing your fears head-on.
Chewing your lip in deep reflection, your brain drifts back to the very person who came up with the proposition.
He seemed sure and determined enoughâand it wasnât like Bakugou to not be calculating and to not have everything mapped out, as similar as he can be to a raging bull. He probably has thought about the consequences to the T, in the few minutes of processing your situation, potentially more than you have.
And damn it, the man is attractive.
If thereâs anyone youâd bring to your exâs wedding to make him regret everything he did to you, it would be Bakugou Katsuki. Although youâd never admit it to the man even if you were held at gunpoint.
âOi.â
Speak of the devil.
You startle at the sound of his gruff voice, abruptly dragging you out of your reverie.
Heâs now standing beside you, hands in his pockets and face studying yours closely as if heâs searching for something.
You stare him back down before you finally decide on what to say.
You canât believe what youâre about to do.
Gulping, you maintain your gaze. âAre you sure about this?â
âWould I be suggesting it if I wasnât?â
Fair point.
To your surprise, Bakugou crouches down to regard you and you find yourself directly face-to-face. Despite yourself, you gulp in nervousness at the sudden proximity, and you think he notices because the jackass has the nerve to flash you a smirk.
You furrow your brows in an attempt to regain your composure and any semblance of control over the situation. âAnd youâre sure youâre gonna succeed as, and I quote, my âtrophy date?ââ
He sneers, although he doesnât seem to be offended by your challenge. Itâs probably because the statement means nothing to himâat this exact moment, the guy is practically oozing with confidence.
Bakugou chuckles, and you find yourself grateful that youâre seated because the next thing he is about to say instantly floors you.
âOne thing about me, princess, is that I always win.â
tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii
#LAUGHING at him#he's sooooooo#mans is desperate for any proximity and time spent with you I fear#i'm scared to write the wedding scene bc I'm afraid I won't do it justice but I'm excited too#just something about weddings!!!! nevermind that it's gonna be your ex's lmao#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n
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i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus đ
combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw đ«¶
1000 secret kisses | R.B.
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cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinking
1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist
Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,â Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.
âTruth,â Barty replied.
âWhat's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?â Dorcas challenged, and everyone oooohâd.
Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, thenââI would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,â Barty said through a cloud of smoke.
âNo way, look at him!â Pandora argued. âHe fucks, guarantee it.â
The groups heads swiveled to Regulus, who was reclined lazily in arm chair, knees spread, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He looked supremely fuckable to you, like he always did.
That's why you've been secret friends with benefits for most of the school year.
You and Regulus were an unlikely pair; Reg, a certified grouch with a distaste for socializing, and you, a gifted student and natural flirt. But you found him fascinating, deeply intelligent and perceptive, with an artistic heart, even if he preferred not to show it. And he found you endearing, infectious in your enthusiasm.
You'd kissed him after a drunken night in Hogsmeade, and he'd sought you out the following day in the library. Now, you snuck away every chance you got, stealing secret moments around every corner, in every classroom, praying your friends never discovered the truth, lest you never hear the end of it.
This was just for the two of you, and you preferred it that way.
âI'm not saying he isn't sexy!â Barty argued. âI'm saying he couldn't be bothered to fuck someone, too busy reading poetry and glaring.â
âAnd you expect me to, what? Fuck everything with legs like you, Junior?â Regulus bit back.
âNo, but likeâIâve never even seen you glance at someone,â Evan chimed in. âYou've never talked about fancying someone, or gotten flustered.â
Regulus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
âNothing shakes him, and he'd never tell you half-wits if he fancied someone because you can't keep your mouths shut,â Xeno laughed.
âIt's not like it's anyone's business anyways,â you added, stealing the joint from Barty and taking a puff. âIt's his business who he does, or doesn't, fuck.â
âOh, come off it. He hasn't even had a crush on you, and we've all had a crush on you,â Barty said.
You nearly choked on your hit. âYou're full of shit, Junior.â
âIt's true! We talked about it the other day!â
You risked a glance at Regulus while you fanned the smoke from around your face, and found him glaring down at his lap, his expression was calm, but you'd long ago learned to judge his true feelings by his pale eyes. And right now, the hostility in them could raze the castle.
That must have been the day he abruptly dragged you from your dorm and into an empty classroom. He toyed with you until you cried, begging him to get you off. And when he finally let you ride him, you weren't allowed to come until you told him exactly who you belonged to. Making you spell out his entire name, letter by letter, thrust by thrust.
Regulus Arcturus Black.
Your pussy shivered just thinking about it.
âCan we get on with the game, please?â Pandora huffed. âIt's y/nâs turn.â
Barry grinned over at you, and you groaned. Why on Salazar's shitty earth did you think it was a good idea to sit next to him?
âTruth, dare, or shot, my darling?â Barty asked, his voice a seductive purr.
You really didn't want to take a shot of that lukewarm swill, and you had a hunch of what Barty's question would be: do you fancy any of us? Leaving you with one option.
âDare.â
Bartyâs eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. âYou've made a grave error, my dearest y/n.â
âDon't be an ass, Crouch. Play fair,â Regulus warned, the edge of his voice sharper than was probably necessary.
âOh, you'll like this Reggie, don't worry.â Barty presented his palms to you, like he was offering a gift. âTreasure, I dare you to make Regulus blush.â
âThat's not fair!â Pandora argued. âHow is she supposed to do that?â
âBy any means necessary.â Barty grinned.
You looked at Regulus, who was already looking at you. âI don't want to cross any linesââ
âAnd when she fails?â Regulus asked, a hint of a smirk on his pretty mouth. Baiting you.
âThen she takes two shots,â Barty wagered.
You looked back and forth between them, all eyes on you. âDeal,â you said, pushing to your feet.
Regulus' eyes widened a fraction, like he didn't expect you to actually go for it, but he vastly underestimated your pettiness. And you would love nothing more than to be the thing that made Regulus finally crack in front of his friends. A tiny consultation for months of keeping secrets.
You sashayed over to him, ignoring the whistles and shouts from your friends, focused entirely on Regulus' smug face. His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the edge of your skirt, the sway of your hips, and you caught the unmistakable sign of his Adamâs apple bobbing in his throat, and his arrogant expression faltered.
Already, you were making him sweat.
You knew none of your regular tricks would work on him, he was impervious to flirting, but you had an ace up your sleeve.
Carefully, you perched on the arm of his chair, being mindful to not actually touch him, knowing it would bother him to have you so close without being able to touch. He shifted a little in his seat, a fraction closer to you, fingers tightening on his cigarette.
You took a pull from the joint, filling your lungs with its acrid burn. You looked at Regulus expectantly, and he smirked before tilting his head back for you. You leaned in and he parted his lips, letting you blow the smoke into his mouth.
Your friends continued to whoop and cheer, but you focused on Regulus' proximity, the hazy feeling coarsing through your blood.
Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.
Instead, when the last of the smoke left your lungs and entered his, you shifted to whisper in his ear. âTook that hit so well, sweet boy,â you purred, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.
You felt his body hitch, wanting to cough up the smoke, but he managed to blow it out of the corner of his mouth, casting you vicious side eye. To your delight, you noticed a delicate pink stain was crawling up his neck, warming the tops of his cheekbones.
âShe did it!â Evan cheered, and the rest of the group roared in approval.
âBrat,â he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You knew you'd be paying for it later, but it was so worth it to know you had an affect on him no one else did.
You sauntered back over to your seat, smiling ear to ear and basking in the groups praise.
Regulus tried to play it off, but there was no going back now. And you knew he was in trouble when it was finally his turn.
âAlright, Reggie,â Pandora said. âTruth, dare, or shot.â
You already knew what he would pick: Reg hated booze, and would rather run around the common room naked than fess up to something.
âDare,â he said, taking a bold glance at you.
Pandora caught it, of course, and a tendril of uncertainty coiled in your stomach.
âI dare you to make y/n blush back.â
Regulus huffed a low laugh. âCome on, Dora. Give me a challenge.â
You glared at him, and he winked back. Maybe it was the weed, or his competitive nature, but you'd never seen him so brazen.
Everyone oooohâd.
âFine, I dare you to kiss one person in the circle!â
Your heart sunk. Even if it was platonic, a stupid dare, you didn't particularly want to see Regulus kiss someone else. Your feelings for Regulus has grown over the course of the your secret relationship, and while neither of you were ready for labels, that didn't mean you wanted to share him, or vice versa if the night in the classroom was any indication.
Regulus narrowed his eyes at her. âNot everyone consents to being kissed by me.â
âI consent!â They all chorused, and you inwardly groaned.
âWhat? You've never fucked and you've never kissed someone?â Barty teased, ramping up the pressure.
âFuck off, Crouch,â Regulus hissed. The game was getting to him, and your friends were feasting on his rare display of discomfort.
You'd feel bad for him if you weren't feeling so sorry for yourself. Reg would probably kiss Barty just to shut him up, and then storm off to bed. Leaving you to decipher his words and actions like every night spent without him there to prove his affection with his hands and mouth.
Shit, maybe this arrangement had gotten more out of control than you realized.
âHow the fuck is Sirius such a lady-killer, and his little brother is the virgin fuckinâ Mary?â Barty was too busy laughing at his own jokes to notice Regulus get up and prowl across the circle towards him.
Barty finally noticed when Reg was almost on top of him, but at the last second, Regulus pivoted. His hand shot out to grab you by the hair, roughly tilting your head back for the bruising kiss he planted on your unsuspecting lips.
You squeaked in surprise, but quickly gave way for him, melting under his firm, insistent mouth as his tongue delved between your teeth to taste you.
As quickly as he swept in, he was gone, leaving you wide eyed and breathless as he stalked back to his seat and dropped into it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
âWhat was it you said? âY/n has the most gorgeous mouth you'd ever seenâ?â Regulus said, a mocking edge in his voice. âThat you'd âgive anything to taste her'?â
Barty gaped like a fish.
Regulus smirked. âIâll have that left bollock now. And I'll take the other one if I hear my girlâs name on your mouth again, you prick.â
Everyone gasped, including you, but Regulus didn't even flinch.
âUnderstood?â He glared at Barty, then the others, until each one of them lowered their eyes in submission.
Regulus beckoned you forward with two fingers and you jumped up, crossing the space between you and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, little more than a peck, but it still made your head spin.
âSo, secrets out?â You asked, meeting his eyes.
Regulus shrugged, pecking your cheek. âIt doesn't change anything,â he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. âIâm yours.â He kissed your nose, your temple, your lips, down your neck, until all of your friends dispersed, making disgusted noises as they fled such a public display of affection.
But you couldn't be happier, grinning like a fool as you basked in a thousand not-so-secret kisses.
#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black smut#the emeralds#slytherin skittles#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#slytherin boys#slytherin boys fanfiction#the marauders#slytherin pride#the emeralds fanfiction#harry potter smut#marauders era#regulus black oneshot#regulus black drabble
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velvet lies
pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8.2k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
âYou look so handsome like thisâŠâ a sultry chuckle is followed by a warm kiss to the lips. The man with a receding hairline laughs in a slimy way, welcoming the woman into his lap. Arms settled around her midsection, indulging in her lips.Â
The moment is quickly shut down when an intruding voice cuts in. âHaruka! Some guy is waiting for you at the door.â
With a huff, she pulls back. Lip curled up into a scowl, turning her head over her shoulder to face the man at the top of the stairs. âTell âem Iâm busy, damn it!â She snarls out.Â
The man sighs and rubs his bald head. âI already did. He said he wants to speak to you, now hurry up here.â
When the door slams shut, she turns back to her customer. âIâll be back.â She smiles and kisses his wrinkly cheek before getting up and off his lap. She fixes her clothing, a simple tank top and shorts. Looking at the small mirror, she frowns and straightens down her hair. Sheâs reminded to dye her hair black again to cover up the incoming gray hairs that always greet her nowadays. She applies her usual red lick back to her skin, perking them up with a small pop noise. Her eyes, beady and dark, fixate back up at the door while her feet drag her.Â
Once sheâs up in the main portion of the building, she rounds a corner and sees a neatly suited man standing at the front desk. The man who called her attention before gives her a certain look before walking off and letting her deal with it. She smiles, leaning against the hardwood. âWhy, hello there, handsome. How may I help you today?â
The man, undeterred and stoic, regards her with barely any emotion. The dark sunglasses on his face obscuring his eyes and Harukaâs brow twitches for a moment in annoyance. She still keeps up her game, however. Resting her cheek against her palm. âWell? How can Iââ
âMs. Haruka, right?âÂ
The strangerâs voice is deep and defined, causing Harukaâs eyebrows to raise in interest. Her smile widens and she hums playfully. âAh, well depends on whoâs asking. If itâs you, then you can call me Candy.â She whispers the last part, leaning in like she told him a big secret; giggling to herself.Â
The man spares a brief glance down at his wristwatch. Haruka notices its pristine gold, oh how valuable. An idea is already forming in her head when she looks back at the manâs black, circular shades. But what he says next causes her body to go into a temporary state of comatose.Â
âAre you the mother of Y/N L/N? If so, please come with me. There are some things my bosses would like to discuss with you.â
Itâs the day after Christmas. You luckily got the day off and youâve just been lounging around your place with Koji. Eating some leftovers and cleaning up a bit, watching him rave about the new toys he got; itâs a pleasant sight. Satoru hasnât texted you anything today, and while youâre not holding him to that expectation, thereâs a part of you that worries heâs still angry. Or maybe even upset at the gift you got him. It probably brought up negative emotions for him. But it was a last minute thing and you assumed he would greatly appreciate it.Â
Maybe your assumption was wrong.Â
You shake off the thought, refusing to dwell on it. Satoru has always been hard to read, and overanalyzing his silence wonât do you any good. Instead, you focus on Koji, whoâs currently making his action figures reenact some elaborate battle scene on the coffee table. His laughter echoes through the room, bright and infectious, pulling a small smile from you.
âKoji, donât forget to put the smaller pieces back in the box when youâre done,â you remind him gently.
âOkay, Mama!â he chirps, not looking up from his imaginary world.
You take another bite of your leftovers, savoring the quiet domesticity of the moment. Itâs not often you get a day to just relax like this. Still, that nagging thought about Satoru lingers in the back of your mind, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Your fingers reach up, feeling for the star pendant Suguru got you. Smiling to yourself as your fingertips graze over the metal. Youâre suddenly reminded of the fact that you havenât thanked him.Â
You grab your phone, thumb hovering over his contact. Itâs a small debate to call or text him, unsure of which is moreâŠappropriate. Maybe heâs busy or maybe he wouldnât mind a phone call at this time. You bite your lip, inhaling deeply then letting it go, deciding that your gratitude would feel more authentic if he actually heard you say it.Â
You click the call button and within the second ring, his voice lightens up the other end. âHello?â
You clear your throat before speaking. âHey, Suguru,â you say softly, twirling the pendant between your fingers. âI hope Iâm not interrupting anything.â
âNot at all,â he replies warmly, a hint of curiosity in his tone. âWhatâs up?â
As you pause for a moment, your thoughts are being gathered. âI just wanted to thank you⊠for the gift. The pendant, itâs beautiful.â Your voice dips slightly, the sincerity in your words undeniable. âYou didnât have to, but⊠it means a lot to me.â
Thereâs a brief silence on his end before he chuckles softly. âIâm glad you like it. I figured itâd suit you.â
You canât help but smile, your fingers still tracing the small, intricate patterns on the pendant. âIt does. Koji said it makes me look pretty.â
Suguru laughs at that, the sound soft and familiar. âHeâs not wrong. The kidâs got good taste.â
A small heat pools in your stomach, cheeks blushing a bit. When you glance over at Koji, you notice just how engrossed he still is in his action figures. âHeâs been talking about that Spider-Man you got him nonstop. He even took it to bed with him last night.â
âReally? Thatâs adorable,â Suguru comments, his tone light but carrying an underlying fondness. âIâm glad he liked it. Heâs a great kid.â
âHe is,â you agree, your voice softening. âIâm lucky to have him.â
Thereâs a pause, the silence between you both comfortable yet loaded with things left unsaid. Finally, Suguru breaks it. âHow are you doing? After last night, I mean. Satoru told me he was going over.â
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, youâre unsure how to answer. âIâm⊠okay,â you eventually get out, though it feels like a half-truth. âIt was just⊠a lot. But we did it. For Koji.âÂ
He hums from the other side. âYeah, thatâs good. I figured.â A moment of pause before he continues. âSatoru can be⊠intense, especially when it comes to you and Koji.â
You let out a small, humorless laugh. âThatâs one way to put it.â
âBut other than that, it was good?â
âYeah, I think so.â
He smiles. âIâm glad, you two deserve a good Christmas.â
With one hand, you bring your dirty dishes to the sink, the other keeping your phone to your ear. âWhat about you? Was yours good too?â
Suguruâs voice sighs wistfully. âIt was, yeah. My team and I spent it handing out some gifts and hot chocolate to the kids. Seeing their faces light up with joy like that, it makes you feel really good, you know?â
Your heart warms at his words, picturing Suguru in his elementâkind, compassionate, always thinking of others. Youâre reminded back to the time you saw him that day with Koji. âThat sounds wonderful,â you speak softly, leaning against the counter. âYouâre really amazing for doing that, Suguru. Those kids are lucky to have someone like you.â
He chuckles modestly, the sound low and comforting. âI donât know about amazing, but thanks. Itâs just something small I can do. Makes the holidays feel more meaningful.â
You smile, twirling the pendant again as you consider his words. âItâs more than small. Itâs thoughtful. Itâs... you.â The words slip out before you can stop them, and you feel your cheeks flush immediately. Embarrassment floods your insides.Â
Thereâs a brief silence on his end, followed by a soft laugh. âYouâre too kind. But coming from you, Iâll take it as a high compliment.â
You shake your head, grinning despite yourself. âItâs not kindness. Itâs the truth.â Â
Kojiâs excited shout from the living room snaps you back to the moment. Heâs discovered a new pose for his Spider-Man, proudly showing it off as he runs over. âMama, look!â Â
Suguru must hear the commotion, his tone lightening further. âSounds like someoneâs having a good time.â Â
âHe is,â you say, watching Kojiâs eyes sparkle with joy. You nod in astonishment. When your son is satisfied with your praise, he rushes back to the coffee table. âHeâs been nonstop since yesterday. I think this Spider-Man might be his new best friend.â Â
âThen my mission was a success,â Suguru replies with a chuckle. âIâll have to find something to top it next year.â Â
You bite the inside of your cheek while his words bring a pang of guilt. Itâs strange; how easy it is to talk to Suguru, how natural it feels to share these moments. And yet, thereâs a part of you that wonders if youâre leaning on him too much, especially with everything unresolved with Satoru. You wonder if what youâre doing is wrong, and considering Satoruâs reaction to his friendâs gift to you, you feel like youâre almostâŠbetraying Satoru.Â
âThank you again, Suguru,â you repeat, your voice calmer now. âFor everything. You didnât have to go out of your way for us, but you did, and it means a lot.â Â
âYou donât have to thank me,â he says gently. âYou and Koji... you guys are important to me too, you know?â Â
The weight of his words settles over you, warm and steady. âThat means a lot to me too.â Â
Thereâs another comfortable pause before Suguru clears his throat. âWell, I should let you get back to your day. Iâm glad you called, though. Donât be a stranger, okay?â Â
âOkay,â you promise, a small smile tugging at your lips. âTake care, Suguru.â Â
âYou too,â he says, his voice lingering for a moment before the call ends. Â
As you set your phone down, you glance at Koji, whoâs now back to his world of action figures. You canât help but feel grateful for the people in your life now who care so deeply about you and your son. Â
But even with that gratitude, your thoughts drift back to Satoru, the press, his parents. And you ponder over the idea of what heâs doing right now, whether heâs holding onto the photograph, if he set it up somewhere; and what it might mean for the three of you moving forward.
Thereâs no time to start drowning in your thoughts any longer. Youâve already done that yesterday and practically every other day before that. A bigger question has been gnawing at you, and now that you have some free time, you figure you should look into it now. Grabbing your laptop, turning it on and clicking on Google once the screen awakens. The small business card is placed to your right as you type away the company name in the search bar.Â
You click on the first link.Â
It takes you to an entire directory of the services of Carlisle & Harlow.Â
The website loads quickly, its sleek design showcasing high-end properties and exclusive services. The polished images of luxurious estates, private jets, and lavish vacation homes scroll past as you navigate through the various tabs. The site is clearly designed to appeal to an elite audienceâevery detail is immaculate. You skim through the different services offered, including property management, concierge arrangements, personal assistants, and lifestyle coaching. It all feels a bit too polished, almost like an invitation into a world youâve only ever seen from the outside.
You feel a slight unease in your stomach. Your mind races back to the business card Evelyn gave youâone that seemed so out of place given everything else youâve seen in your life. You click through to the âAbout Usâ section, hoping to find more answers about what the company actually does or who else is behind it.Â
The page provides a brief history, detailing the companyâs founding by the woman, Evelyn Carlisle and her now deceased husband, Noah Harlowâboth of whom have since made a name for themselves in the luxury service industry.Â
You click on the âOur Teamâ link. Several executives are listed, each with brief bios that read like glowing resumes. Next, you click on the âContact Usâ tab, staring at the address listedâan upscale location in the cityâs financial district. Itâs the kind of place where secrets are hidden behind high walls and the name on the door probably has a lot of power behind it.
Taking a deep breath, you mull over this instance. Maybe itâs time to investigate further, but youâre not sure how much deeper you want to digâespecially not without some sort of plan. But that Evelyn woman seemed a little strange to you. Itâs just the fact that everything felt quite planned out to you, like someone told her to come to your workplace and offer a job interview. Your intuition has always been right and ever since you became a mother, that increased tenfold. But, this seems like it might have more of a good outcome than a bad one.Â
You wouldnât have to maintain the hard balance of working two jobs and a child. As you continue scrolling and clicking on multiple tabs within the website, one catches your interest.Â
âAbout Our Foundersâ
Youâre met with pictures of Evelyn and her husband, posing with what you can only assume are other businesspeople, with paragraphs of their background to go along with it. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so far, until a particular picture.Â
Itâs Evelyn and her husband. Posing with Satoru and his father.Â
Your heart stops for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the screen. The four of them are dressed impeccably, their expressions polished with smiles that feel carefully rehearsed. The caption beneath the photo reads:Â Â
âCelebrating five years of partnership between Carlisle & Harlow and the Gojo Group, fostering innovation and excellence in high-end luxury services.â
Your stomach churns. The idea of Satoru or his family being involved in this job offer. And it almost makes sense nowâEvelyn showing up at your workplace, the too-perfect job offer, the strange sense of everything being orchestrated. It wasnât a coincidence. It couldnât be. Unless it is?
Your fingers hover over the trackpad, trembling slightly as you click on the bio beneath Evelynâs photo. Her background is as pristine as expected: Ivy League education, years of experience in luxury branding, and a reputation for impeccable taste. But itâs the section about her connections that catches your eye:Â Â
"Evelyn Carlisle maintains close ties with prominent families, including the Gojo family, and has been instrumental in crafting tailored solutions for their elite clientele."
Your head spins. This isnât just a job opportunityâitâs a calculated move. But why? Why now? And why through Evelyn instead of directly from Satoru or his family? You glance back at the business card on your table, its gold lettering gleaming in the soft light. It feels heavier now, like itâs carrying the weight of unseen motives. Â
Kojiâs laughter breaks through your swirling thoughts, grounding you momentarily. You look over at him, playing so innocently, so unaware of the tangled web youâre beginning to unravel. Taking a deep breath, you close the laptop and sit back. Whatever this is, itâs not just about you anymore. If Evelynâs offer is part of some larger scheme, youâll need to figure out the truth before you make any decisions. Â
Maybe youâre overthinking this. The Gojo Group is huge and very obviously powerful, of course, they would have ties with Carlisle & Harlow. Itâs not that far-fetched, right? Itâs just a job opportunity, donât think too much into it.Â
Itâs around the next day at work now. Walking to the cafĂ©, phone in hand. Rereading Satoruâs first text to you since you last saw him, itâs not entirely underwhelming, you just hoped that he would have expressed his gratitude for your gift.Â
Satoru:
Koji left his jacket here from last time, Iâll bring it over today
Your lips purse, thumbs going haywire over the bright screen. Should you ask if he enjoyed the gift? If he even opened it in the first place? Or maybe youâre dragging this out far too much. With a deep breath, entering the cafe, you type back:
You:
I thought you had work todayÂ
Satoruâs response comes almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you to text back.
Satoru:
I do, but I can swing by during lunch. The place is a little far from me, can I come to your job and drop it off?
You hesitate, wanting to type back a ânoâ as soon as he asked. It would feel a little weird if he came. Satoru and your workplace just donât seem to mixâand you donât want them to. If he came, it would only further solidify the fact that heâs integrating himself into your life. Again, youâre probably overthinking things, heâs just dropping off your sonâs jacket. But the thought of seeing him right now feels oddly nerve-inducing.Â
You:
Sure, Iâm on lunch at 12
When you drop the pin of the cafĂ©âs address, you pocket your phone and set your stuff down, tying the apron around your waist. Hana, on her phone texting, barely looks up when you enter. Itâs becoming a bit more repetitive nowadays. Patting down the apron, you speak up. âStill talking to that Naoya guy?â
She hums and nods, giggling at something that was messaged before swiftly typing back a response. Your lips purse, brows knitting at her lack of acknowledgment for you. This guy must really be entrancing her. âHe said he was coming today.â
âOh, really?â You ask, offering a small smile. âIâll finally meet the lucky guy.â
Hanaâs eyes flick up at you briefly before returning to her phone, her cheeks slightly flushed. âHm? Oh, yeah. but donât embarrass me, okay?â Â
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you grab a few boxes to refill the supplies up front behind the counter, cutting them open. âIâll try not to. Just donât expect me to be on my best behavior if heâs rude.â Â
She scoffs, though her grin betrays her amusement. âHeâs not rude. Youâll like him, I think. Heâs⊠different.â Â
You arch a brow, intrigued by her tone. âDifferent, huh? Guess weâll see.â Â
Hana waves you off, clearly too engrossed in her conversation to elaborate further. Â
And so, the morning drags on, and you canât help but notice Hana glancing at the door every few minutes, a mix of anticipation and nerves written all over her face. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with the usual flow of customers, though your own nerves begin to creep in as the clock inches closer to noon. Â
When the bell above the cafĂ© door finally chimes, you glance up instinctively. A tall man with sharp features and an air of confidence steps in, scanning the room briefly before his gaze lands on Hana. His hair is slicked back neatly, and heâs dressed in a tailored coat that screams wealth and status. The tips of his hair dipped black, his eyes are so cat-like that it almost freaks you out at first. Â
Hanaâs face lights up as she quickly puts the cleaning supplies that were in her hands down and waves him over. âNaoya!â Â
He strides over, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leans in to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. âHana,â he says smoothly, his voice low and self-assured.Â
Your eyebrows raise at the blatant show of affection in front of not just youâbut the rest of the customers. Itâs slightly unlike Hana because you remember her telling you how much she despised PDA. Maybe Naoya is making her come out of her shell. Thatâs good, right? You watch the interaction from behind the counter, your initial impression of him forming almost immediately. Thereâs something about his demeanorâcharming, yes, but also a little too smug for your liking. Your senses are telling you to be subtly on guard around this man.Â
Hana glances over at you, her smile widening. âNaoya, this is my coworkerââ Â
âFriend,â you correct with a playful smile, giving her a tiny look. Itâs strange how she was just going to introduce you as a coworker when she always calls you her friend. Not thinking too much of it, you step out from behind the counter to extend a hand. âNice to meet you, Naoya. Iâm Y/N.â
He takes your hand, his grip firm but calculated. His eyes flicker over you briefly, as if sizing you up. If possible, his grin widens, eyes growing more crescent-like. âPleasureâs mine,â he says, though the smirk on his face doesnât quite reach his eyes. Â
âSo, youâre the one whoâs been keeping Hana so distracted lately,â you remark lightly, folding your arms. Â
Naoya chuckles, his gaze shifting back to Hana. âSheâs easy to talk to. Hard not to get distracted by her.â Â
Hana blushes, clearly pleased by the compliment, but you canât shake the nagging feeling that thereâs something a little⊠off about him. âWell,â you say, forcing a polite smile, âwelcome to our humble abode. Let me know if you need anything.â Â
Naoya nods, his smirk unwavering. âWill do.â Â
As you step back behind the counter, you catch Hana giving you a warning glance, silently begging you not to say anything more. You just shrug, grabbing the rag Hana previously discarded to wipe down the counter, though you canât help but keep an ear on their conversation. They convert over to a booth in the corner, seemingly for some privacy.Â
Something about Naoya sets your instincts on edge. Maybe itâs the way he carries himself, or the way his smile feels more like a performance than genuine warmth. Heâs reminding you of Satoru, just more insidious. Itâs probably a little rude of you to have such a critical judgment of the man whoâs making your friend swoon, but isnât that what friends, do? Making sure the men or women that come into their lives are worthy of it? Whatever it is, you make a mental note to keep an eye on himâif only for Hanaâs sake. Â
You stop eavesdropping. Hanaâs a grown woman, if anything, she knows whatâs more right for her than you do. Besides, youâre one of the only ones working right now, so itâs better to focus on delivering customer service than ensuring the man in the corner (who has been keenly drifting his eyes towards your figure) is good enough for Hana. Hana, oblivious to your discomfort, continues chatting with Naoya, her smile wide as she laughs at something he says. Her back is turned to you, and all you can do is concentrate on the rising sense of unease in your gut. Itâs the way Naoyaâs posture remains open and confident, but thereâs a hardness behind his eyes that doesnât sit right with you. He seems like someone who expects to get what he wants, and the thought of him using his charm to manipulate Hana makes you clench your fists beneath the counter. Youâre just trying to understand the strange energy he brings into the environment. Maybe itâs your overactive imagination, but you still canât shake the perception that thereâs more to this man than Hana is seeing.
As you refocus on your tasks, you can physically feel the weight of Naoyaâs gaze lingering on you. Itâs subtle, but unsettlingâlike heâs paying more attention to you than he is Hana. You shake it off, putting your mind into the register as a customer walks up to place an order. However, the uneasy feeling stays with you. You move through the motions of your shift. Every time you briefly glance over to the booth, his gaze is drawn to you. Not in the way youâd expect a person to look at someone theyâve just met, but with something more calculating. Itâs almost as if heâs analyzing you, but why?
You donât even know how long it has been, at least 15 orders later, when the two walk back up to the front. Hana grabs your attention. âY/N, Naoya brought up a really good idea. His friend owns that new bar I was telling you about a few weeks ago! Do you want to go out tomorrow after your other job?â
You glance up, a bit surprised by the invitation. Itâs not like you havenât been out with Hana before, but something about tonight feels odd. Maybe itâs Naoyaâs presence, or maybe itâs the weird sense of being observed earlier. Still, itâs a chance to unwind, and Hana seems genuinely excited.
You give a soft smile, though it feels a little strained. âI donât know, Hana. Iâve got a lot on my plate. Plus, Iâm not sure about the bar idea... not really in the mood for crowds.â
Her eyes widen, and she steps closer, lowering her voice. âCome on, you deserve a break. Youâve been working so hard lately. Itâll be fun, I promise.â
You meet her eyes, trying to gauge her sincerity. Sheâs always been good at getting you to loosen up when you're feeling overwhelmed. Maybe it wouldnât hurt to go for just a little while, but you still have reservations about Naoya. âAlright, Iâll think about it. Iâll see if I can get out earlier,â you say, trying to keep your tone light. âBut no promises.â
Hanaâs face lights up. âYay! I knew youâd come around.â She looks over her shoulder at Naoya, whoâs standing a few feet away, reading the two of you with an unreadable expression.Â
You suddenly feel like this moment might be the start of something unpredictable. As much as you want to just go with the flow for Hana, a part of you ponders if thereâs more to Naoyaâs invitation than just a night out. But, for now, you push the thought aside.
âWell, you donât want to miss out,â Naoya speaks up, chuckling to himself. âJust try. Itâs called No Manâs Land. Iâll be there around 10:30 tomorrow night, hopefully I'll see you both there.â
You nod slowly, still hesitant about the whole thing. Something about the way Naoya phrased itâso casual, so sure of himselfârubs you the wrong way. Thereâs an underlying expectation in his words like heâs already decided that youâll both show up. Youâre not sure if itâs just his personality or something more, but the thought of him controlling the situation leaves you with a strange feeling. Hana, though, looks delighted. âItâll be so much fun, Y/N. Just relax. A drink or two wonât hurt.â She flashes you a grin before turning back to Naoya, all smiles as she talks about what theyâll do at the bar.
Youâre like an outsider, watching as Hana becomes more entangled in Naoyaâs charm. You wonder if she sees it tooâthe little things about him that donât add up. The way he already seems like the type of man to be just one step ahead with a plan. But sheâs excited, so you donât want to rain on her parade. Besides, you can always back out later if it doesnât feel right.
Luckily, she sees him out right after.Â
And unluckily, youâre waiting outside on your break for Satoru sooner rather than later.Â
You glance at your phone once more, watching the minutes tick by. Your break feels longer than it should, and the anticipation of seeing Satoru again only adds to the anxiety thatâs been building ever since your last interaction. You tell yourself itâs just a quick exchangeâKojiâs jacket, nothing more. But every moment feels charged as if something is on the verge of shifting.
The cool air outside offers a bit of relief, though the tension in your chest doesnât quite let up. You stand near the corner of the cafĂ©, eyes scanning the street for any sign of him. The sound of footsteps approaches, and you turn, only to find Satoru strolling toward you with his usual carefree aura.
âHey,â he greets, his tone light, but thereâs something different about the way his eyes stay on youâsomething that feels almost too familiar. He holds out the jacket. âKojiâs jacket. Didnât want to leave him without it.â
You take the jacket from him, the weight of it making you more aware of the subtle intimacy of the moment. âThanks,â you say, trying to keep your voice steady. âI appreciate it.â
He doesnât say anything immediately, just watches you for a beat too long. You shift on your feet, suddenly feeling acutely aware of the silence hanging between you.
âIs that all?â you ask, hoping the question doesnât come off too abrupt.
Satoru tilts his head as if considering something. âWhat do you mean?â
God, you hate it when he plays stupid like this. It forces you to be outright with what you want to say. Standing up straighter, chin tilting high. âI meanâŠlikeâwell I guess what Iâm trying to say is thatâŠdid you openâŠthe gift I gave you?â
Satoruâs gaze shifts slightly, his usual simmering confidence faltering just enough to make you second-guess yourself. He pauses like heâs weighing your question more carefully than he typically would. For a moment, you wonder if youâve oversteppedâif youâve asked something too personal or too vulnerable. The silence stretches between you like a taut wire.
âYour gift?â he finally says, the corner of his mouth lifting just a bit. He sounds almost amused, but thereâs a hint of something else in his voice, something you canât quite pin down.
You feel a wave of heat rise in your cheeks, but you stand your ground. âYeah. The one I gave you on Christmas.â The words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you canât take them back now.
Satoruâs expression shifts, the air tensing slightly. âI did,â he says simply, as though itâs nothing. âIt was⊠nice.â
You want to push him further, to demand more of a response, but something about the way he says it makes you hesitate. Is that all? You want to ask again. Was it just âniceâ? Thatâs all? After everythingâthe thought you put into the gift, the small but meaningful gestureâyou wonder if maybe it didnât even register with him the way it did with you. Maybe you were right, he didnât even open it and is now coming up with a bullshit response because you put him on blast.Â
But you donât want to push too hard. You already feel like youâre treading on delicate ground. So you force yourself to smile, even though it feels a little stiff. âWell, Iâm glad you liked it,â you reply, not entirely sure if you believe your own words.
Thereâs another beat of silence, and then Satoru shifts his weight slightly, signalling that heâs about to leave. âI should get going. Got some things to take care of,â he says, but he doesnât immediately turn away.
Instead, his eyes flicker down to your hands, where youâre still holding Kojiâs jacket. âTake care of yourself,â he adds, his tone softening just a bit.
You nod, trying to hide the strange pang in your chest. âYou too,â you reply, though your voice is quieter now.
His lips thin into an awkward smile. Itâs one you give a stranger or someone you barely knowâbut thatâs how things feel between you now, isnât it? Itâs really not worth dwelling over the tiny things that further more prove the horrid line of connection between you two. But for some reason, it still hurts and picks at your heart.Â
That moment is quickly splashed away when a familiarâbut teeth-gritting voice squeals from behind Satoru. Your grip tightens on Kojiâs jacket. Satoruâs shoulders tense up.Â
âSatoru! Whyâd you leave me in that boutique? It took forever to find you!â
She appears next to Satoru, her presence immediate and unmistakable. Her eyes flicker between you and Satoru with a mix of scrutiny and something else that you canât quite place. Sheâs dressed in something designer, as usual, with that polished, effortless look that screams of wealth and status. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, a quiet challenge in her eyes.
You feel a knot twist in your stomach, an all-too-familiar sense of discomfort settling into your chest. Satoruâs gaze meets yours for just a moment before he shifts his attention to Himari. âSorry, didnât mean to leave you hanging,â he says, his tone light but lacking its usual warmth.
Himari, not seeming to notice or care about the tension in the air, flashes you a tight-lipped smile that screams fake. âOh, well look who it is. The leech.â
âHimari.â Satoru gruffs under his breath, giving his girlfriend a dirty side-eye.Â
âWhat? One minute we're spending the day together and the next youâre here withâŠher.â
Your jaw clenches, noticing the tug Satoru gives the other woman to the back of her dress, lowly whispering something into her ear. But her facial expression doesnât deter, and neither does her snaky persona.Â
âI thought you had work.â You utter, eyes flickering back to Satoru.Â
His brows tighten, huffing out an exasperated breath. Before he can respond, she does it for him. âIf you consider being by my side and treating all my needs work, then yeah, he is working.â She giggles at her own joke, making a show of turning his head towards her and plopping a kiss on his pink lips. It lasts only a few seconds before he pulls away.Â
But even those few seconds feel like a lifetime.
You feel the bite of Himariâs words, even if theyâre clearly meant to dig into you. The word âleechâ still stings, even though you know itâs not intended for anything other than a cruel jab. Satoruâs response, or lack thereof, makes the situation all the more uncomfortable. His eyes flick to you for a brief second before turning back to Himari, his expression more quiet and guarded
 One question sounds throughout your brain. Why are you even with her?
You stand there, the tension heavy in the air between the three of you, white-knuckling onto Kojiâs jacket, as if it could anchor you through this awkward, uncomfortable moment. Himariâs gaze holds yours for a moment longer like sheâs trying to read you, trying to see if you'll react. You want to say something, anything, but you can feel the weight of the situation hanging on your tongue, making it hard to even speak.
Satoru looks between the two of you, his jaw tightening slightly. "Let's go," he mutters, more to Himari than to you, though you can tell heâs trying to smooth things over. Himari, however, isnât having it. She steps forward, a small smirk on her face as she eyes you again.Â
âSo,â she starts, her voice dripping with sarcasm, âyou two still playing catch-up or is it âout of sight, out of mindâ now?âÂ
Her clipped tone is pointed, deliberately meant to prod, and the weight of them sinks inâher intent clear. Satoru doesnât reply, simply glancing at you with a silent apology in his eyesâif you can even call it that. You want to scoff at his lousiness. Itâs clear sheâs trying to assert her dominance in the situation, but youâre not sure whether itâs her trying to put you in your place or if itâs something else entirely.
You force a tight smile, the words you're looking for escaping you. âNo need to worry,â you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips as you turn to look at Satoru one last time. âIâm sure you both have things to do. Iâll get back to work.â
Satoru doesnât protest, and Himari just gives you another dismissive glance. "Whatever," she mutters under her breath, but you catch the taunt in her voice. She might be playing it off, but you sense otherwise.Â
As they walk away, the weight of the encounter lingers in the air around you. You stand frozen for a moment, the jacket still in your hands, and thenâalmost instinctivelyâyou turn on your heel and head back inside the cafĂ©. Your heart still pounds in your chest, the sting of Himariâs words lingering long after theyâve both left.
You donât even know what hurts moreâthe fact that Satoruâs dismissive attitude didnât change, Himariâs words somehow managed to rattle you more than you care to admit, or the fact that he barelyâŠstood up for you. It is selfish to at least hold him to a certain degreeâa degree where he has the decency to protect you from the cruel shit his now girlfriend so nonchalantly delivers towards you? Maybe how he acted during that first unexpected encounter was all for show.
And of course, the pain in your chest feels more like a slow burn now, another brutalâunwanted reminder that things between you and Satoru, whatever they wereâŠare long gone.
An Izakaya of this caliber is something Haruka would have only dreamed of sitting in. Warm lighting is stationed above them, inside their own private room while she drinks away and awayâsolely because the people before her are buying. There are dishes of food scattered around, some picked from and others havenât been touched yet. âYou know, I really appreciate you spoiling me for the past two days, itâs nicer than any man has ever treated me.âÂ
She laughs to herself, casually leaning back on her palms, holding her pitcher of beer back up to her lips and sipping like a madman. Emi and Kenji Nakamura regard the woman with equally disgusted faces. Beside them is their personal lawyer.Â
âSo,â Haruka starts, burping and leaning forward once more. âWhatâs this all about my precious daughter, huh?â Her lip quirks up in a sneer at the reminder of the child she had and practically threw to the wolves. âIs she acting up again? Sheâs always been a little troublemaker.â
âIâm sure youâve seen the articles, yes?â Kenjiâs firm voice replies. âInvolving your daughter, Satoru Gojo, and their son.â
She chokes on her spit. âWhat?! Son?! No, I havenât seen anything! Iâm a free spirit and I donât believe in social media, itâs the devilâs play!â
The couple show no further emotion to her outburst.Â
Harukaâs face contorts with an expression of disbelief as she wipes her mouth hastily with the back of her hand, trying to regain some composure. The news about Satoru Gojo and her daughter having a child seems to rattle her more than anything else. She leans back again, almost toppling over from the force of her sudden shift in posture, eyes wild. âIâwhat do you mean, son?â Her voice cracks, and she shoots a glance at Emi and Kenji, her eyes narrowing. âAre you telling me that boy⊠and my daughter? They have a child?!â
Kenjiâs lips curl into a slight frown, his eyes cold. âYes, it seems your daughter has kept things a secret for years. The media and everyone else have only just found out.â
Harukaâs eyes flash with something venomous, but she quickly masks it with a laugh, the sound forced and hollow. âAh, what a little dirty sneak. And, please. You know Iâm not interested in all that family nonsense. And that son? How could they even think of bringing a kid into their⊠situation?â Her head shakes as she scoffs at the thought of you bearing a child of your own. And especially withâŠhim.Â
âYou may not understand now,â Kenji mutters darkly, before leaning in slightly. âBut I think itâs time you start paying attention. Because this situation concerns you more than you realize.â
Harukaâs face twitches, the words hitting her harder than she wants to admit. The weight of the sudden revelation was heavy. She glances down at her beer, swirling it absentmindedly, her mind clearly racing with thoughts she doesnât want to process. âYouâre telling me my daughter has a son with him?â she scoffs, shaking her head. âThatâs rich. Really rich.â Her tone is bitter, but the realization of the reality around her seems to slowly sink in, and she takes another long sip from her pitcher to steady herself. âSheâs such a goddamn fool, I almost feel bad for her. I provided a lot for her, you know? Then she threw it all away.â
Kenji and Emi watch on in disinterest. The lawyer beside them brings out a formal sheet of paper. âWeâd like to offer you a deal, Ms. L/N,â Kenji states.Â
Haruka looks back up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Harukaâs eyes narrow, expression shifting from one of indifference to one of calculated curiosity. She shifts in place, wiping her mouth once more with the back of her palm. âA deal? What kind of deal?â she asks, her voice carrying a note of skepticism, but there's a flicker of interest behind her gaze. She leans in slightly, one hand still gripping the pitcher of beer as she lowers it to the table now.
âYou see,â Emi starts. âOur only childâour precious daughter is dating Satoru. She probably felt the most disgruntled in this situation out of everyone else. With the suddenness, we fear that everything we have worked for will be put to waste.â
âAnd with the news of your daughterâs involvement with Satoru Gojo, it has thrown things into disarray for us. What we need is to ensure that this situation doesnât jeopardize our familyâs legacyâboth our reputation and, more importantly, our fortune.â Kenji finishes.Â
Haruka snorts softly. âI see. So, youâre telling me this little bastard of hers is a problem for you too? What does that have to do with me?â Her words come out sharper than she intends, but she quickly masks it with another bitter laugh.
Emiâs cold gaze sharpens, a glint of something unspoken flickering behind her eyes. âEverything, Haruka. Your daughterâs ties to Satoru Gojo are a direct threat to the familyâs interests. And with a child in the picture now⊠it complicates things further. But weâve come to a solution, one that involves youâif youâre willing to cooperate.â
Haruka tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she watches the lawyer slide the formal paper across the table toward her. The ink on it is neat, but her eyes flick over it quickly, scanning the contents before she lets out a quiet scoff. âWhat is this? Some kind of bribe?â
The lawyer, keeping a neutral expression, nods. âItâs an agreement that ensures your cooperation in smoothing over this⊠situation. If you agree, your involvement will not only secure your own future, but it will also protect the financial interests of both families. In exchange, youâll receive a position of influence, a stake in the inheritance.â
Harukaâs laughter rings out again, more amused. âInfluence? A stake? Do you think Iâm some desperate fool whoâll fall for your little schemes? I donât need your money. I have enough desperate fools willing to give me that already.â She sneers at the paper but then pauses, looking at Kenji and Emi, the weight of their gaze pressing down on her.
She takes another sip from her pitcher, her mind whirling as she weighs her options. A part of her wants to lash out, to dismiss them and their offer completely. But thereâs something about the way theyâre looking at her, something cold and calculating that makes her pause. The truth is, sheâs always been a gambler, and she knows when to fold and when to play her hand. âYou really think this is gonna work out?â she says, her voice quieter now, but still filled with an edge of disbelief. âThis⊠deal?â She hesitates, eyes flicking over the paper again, the signature line staring her down. âWhat exactly are you asking of me?â
Emi leans forward slightly, her posture unyielding. âWe need you to leverage your relationship with your daughter. Influence her decisions, guide her actionsâanything you can to help steer her away from Satoru. We want to ensure that the child and his existence donât affect our plans. In return, we offer you protection, money, and a place at the table. Itâs a mutually beneficial arrangement.â
Kenji watches her closely, his expression hard, but thereâs a glimmer of expectation in his eyes.
Harukaâs mind races, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her beer glass as she processes the offer laid out before her. The temptation of power, of influence, is hard to ignore, even for someone who prides herself on being a free spirit. But sheâs also no fool. She knows this is a high-stakes gameâone where the risks outweigh the rewards if she misplays her cards. And the amount of 0âs sheâs staring down at is inexplicably thrilling. Sheâs already imagining what she can buy with it.Â
For a long moment, the room is silent, the tension thick. Emi and Kenji both stare at her intently, their eyes cold and calculating, watching her every move. The lawyer remains as neutral as ever, the formality of his expression only adding to the weight of the situation.
Haruka's lips curl into a smirk, the edges of her mouth twitching slightly as she leans back in her chair. âLeverage my relationship with my daughter, huh? You really think I can do that?â Her voice is laced with a mix of amusement and disdain. âYou must think Iâm a puppet master or something. But Iâm not interested in some petty manipulation games.â
Kenjiâs eyes flash for a brief second, a flicker of something darker crossing his features. "You know the consequences of doing nothing. Youâve been avoiding your daughter long enough, Haruka. But sheâs not the same girl anymore. She's tied to Satoru Gojo now, and that complicates things. We need you to make sure she doesnât forget her place. The familyâs future is on the line."
Harukaâs hand freezes in mid-air, her gaze locking with Kenji's. She can feel the weight of her daughterâs past mistakes bearing down on her, the consequences that could affect everything sheâs tried to distance herself from. Her jaw ticks, her eye twitching. What a stupid little girl, I tried warning you, didnât I? âI donât care about your legacy or your fortune,â Haruka mutters, her tone turning colder, sharper. âBut Iâm not stupid. I can see what youâre offering me.â Her fingers curl around the edges of the paper, her nails digging into the surface. âI have one question for you, though. What happens if I refuse?â
Emi doesnât blink, her gaze unflinching as she answers. âIf you refuse, Haruka, youâll be left in the same position youâve always beenâirrelevant. Your daughterâs problems will escalate, and your connections, your influence, will be stay meaningless. You will never succeed and youâll lose the tiniest amount of leverage you have. Youâll watch as everything youâve ever taken for granted crumbles.â She pauses, the words hanging in the air. âBut if you cooperate, we can guarantee your future. Your daughterâs involvement with Gojo doesnât need to ruin you.â
Harukaâs eyes flick over the paper again, the signature line now feeling like an anchor, pulling her down into a world of obligations and consequences. She takes a deep breath, feeling the familiar rush of excitement that always comes when sheâs faced with a gamble. Itâs the thrill of uncertainty, the pull of what could be hers if she plays her cards right. Her bottom lip is worried between her teeth.Â
âSo, what youâre saying is... Iâm supposed to ruin my own daughterâs happiness for the sake of your precious familyâs legacy,â Haruka says, her voice low, almost contemplative. She stares at the paper one more time before meeting Emiâs gaze. "Fine. Youâve made your offer. But just so you know, Iâm no one's pawn. Iâll make this work for me too. Youâre not the only ones with something to gain."
Emi gives a small, satisfied nod, and Kenjiâs lips tighten, but thereâs a small shift in his demeanorâone that signals the deal has been struck. "Good," Kenji replies, his voice firm. "Weâre glad we could come to an agreement. We will contact you if necessary and when your action is needed.â
Haruka, for the first time, sets the pitcher of beer down, her fingers now gently grasping the edge of the paper. She grins maniacally and signs it with a flourish. The ink is dark and permanent, sealing the agreement.
With the ink dry, she sits back, a smirk curling on her lips. âThis will be fun.â
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Imagine Daughter!Reader pulls a "I'm gonna fake a crush on my brother's best friend so I can make them ALL uncomfortable" but it backfires and the best friend actually likes her backđ? (obviously daughter!reader's age will depend on the batboys bestfriend so no weird stuff going on in this ask dw) Like for Dick, Wally West. Maybe she asks the question "What else can go fast?" or something odd. Then for Jason, Roy Harper she asks him to teach her archery. Jason probably trusting her(maybe) he let's it go on but then catches Roy looking at her differently. Then for the others the same thing, like Tim- Conner. Something like REALLLLLLLLY kid-ish for Jon Kent if you feel like adding Damian's best friend. (These are all separate so no harem thing going on thank god.) Thank you for reading!!!!!<3
Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist
YES OH MY GOD I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS!
So realistically because she is the youngest, her crush would be on either Jon because he would only be a year older than her, or Connor who may be a bit older (physically, cause he was a lab child) but still within that reasonable age. Then in actual canon she has a boyfriend, who may be a lot little crazy, but theyâre in love⊠right?
But anyway for this letâs say her age differs on each scenario in this okay
Okay Dick is just sitting there the like what the hell the moment he walks back in living room to see his little sister laughing and chatting with Wally, sitting way too close for comfort. Dick tries to show some self restraint, give the benefit of the doubt, but letâs be honest when Wally West falls in love it is head over heels and it is something that happens in an instant, basically love at first sight, she wouldnât have to say anything to him, she just has to walk into a room. Then cue Dick ending up as a third wheel for the rest of the day, it probably gets to the point where Dick comes up with some excuse of why Wally needs to leave early and then as Wally is leaving he might ask about Dickâs sister and Dick gives him the biggest side eye ever and he just drops the topic. Then Dick goes back inside and his sisterâs hair is all messed up, like a strong wind brew by and she is just holding her phone when she wasnât a second agoâŠ
âWhatâŠhappened?â
âI think Wally put his number in my phoneâŠâ
âSon of a-â
With Jason and Roy, they are going on a mission together and training beforehand. Sister!Darling just handing around because Bruce and the rest of their siblings are gone and Alfred is out running errands that day, so until they get back Jason has to watch her which Roy thinks is weird because she is a few years younger than them for the sake of this post, but okay. So she is just sitting in the cave, reading a book Jason gave her because she not allowed down there so sheâs not allowed to touch anything. Jason walks off to go find a different type of bullet and asks Roy to keep an eye on her because she is not allowed anywhere near the weapons or gear, and Roy just looks at her and waves her overâŠ
âCmonâ wanna try taking a shot?â
âUm⊠I donât know-â
âI can teach you.â
So he does, and I really donât know how to describe it besides this scene from Princess Diaries and just imagine when Jason comes back and found his best friend holding his little sister from the back, his cheek practically pressed against hers. He just loudly clears her throat and tells her that he needs to talk to her and he takes her out of the cave and sends her to her room, locking her in and sends a note to Bruce or whoever going to be home first what happened and where she is. Then he does back downstairs and Roy has the guts to ask if she is single and Jason just canâtâŠ
âFuck off Roy, sheâs off limits.â
Now Tim has a harder time shaking off his friend, and I mean going by Connor in the comics (cause we donât talk about Connor in Young Justice here) he is a bit of a headstrong personality and cocky, so if Connor and his sister are chatting and teasing each other he doesnât really think much of it literally until he finds them kissing, a hand on her thigh and on the back of her neck and Connor is slightly levitating. Tim waits until Connor leaves and then he questions his sister about it, and she fesses up to basically trying to get on Timâs nerves by flirting with his best friend but Connor ended up actually liking her, like a lot and one thing led to another and they were making out and have been texting for weeks and Tim didnât think of it twice because it was Connor.
So then Tim asks Bruce to try to intervene by asking Clark for help but Connor has already gushed about his situationship with her to literally everyone in the Kent Family, and Clark has already gave Connor advice to ask her out and ideas for dates and it even got to the point where Ma and Pa are asking about when they can meet her because she sounds like a sweet girl. She just dug herself in a hole with this one, platonic Yandere!Superfam anyone?
Then Damian, well this is just kiddy love with his sister and Jon, and Damian knows that but it doesnât mean he is okay with it. Whenever Jon is is over they are always talking, and Jon is just trying to impress her with his (half) kryptonian powers. Meanwhile Damian is giving Jon the side eye and really itâs nothing but that doesnât stop him from running to go tell Bruce about it, what if it evolves into something more when they get older. So Bruce goes to talk to Clark about it and Clark doesnât think itâs a big deal, theyâre just kids and this is how kids are and so Damian just has to watch while Jon pushes her on the swings and deal with the fact that she just wants to spend time with Jon Kent and not him. Ugh.
#yandere dc x reader#yandere dc#yandere justice league x reader#yandere justice league#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#yandere batman x reader#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere batfamily#platonic yandere dc#platonic yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere robin#yandere nightwing#yandere red hood#yandere red robin#yandere kate kane#yandere batwoman#yandere cassandra cain#yandere batgirl#yandere stephanie brown#yandere barbara gordon#yandere talia al ghul
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(iâm not sure if your requests are open so iâm sorry if they arenât and iâm sending this in đ)
Can I request Five with a reader thatâs always really energetic and yaps a lot but something happens between them and Reader gets distant?? đ«¶
ooo yeah sure!! ; and my requests are on dw! when they're closed I remove my inbox in general just to avoid it and to prevent ppl who don't look at the big bold words in my bio lol ; but yeah, thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy! ; also I made this in hc format cause I was NOT trying to write all that
FIVE HARGREEVES ; yapparappa
summary ; youre really energetic and talkative, but once a fight breaks, you become distant and quiet
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; don't ask ab the title, I was just thinking parappa the rapper and yeah idk
word count ; 278
masterlist
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/72102146a07951fbaf897baaa95ac014/cf626987c39c770c-73/s540x810/e3c4ced93e2507b38b89a9b5d11b5310f0d00b66.jpg)
he's a quiet guy
but he'll happily listen to your yapping
you surprisingly teach him a lot
and he finds it comforting
like classical music to Reginald, he wouldn't be able to survive without you
but after a fight (about Marcus / Sparrow Academy & him running off with Klaus and not being around for the Kugelblitz) you'd started to avoid him
he said some very rude things
those things being along the lines of how he wished he never met you, how annoying you are, how much he can't stand you, etc
so you obviously stormed off all angry at each other
but you'd become completely distant while he was trying to fix the world again
like you didn't come down for an early morning coffee with him like you usually did
nor did you rant about anything to him later that night or the ones following
if he was even around, you'd move away and not even look at him
like he hadn't heard you speak for DAYS
that's never happened before
like you're always rambling about something or asking him questions about shit, etc
he started to feel bad when Klaus started yelling at him about it
"this is childish! you're stuck in a child's body trying to prove you're a man and you're hurting your love!" he fake cries. "they could get kugelblitz'ed and their last memories of you would be you yelling at them, five"
he groans, deciding he'll go apologize to you
so he apologizes, expecting one from you as well
and you deliver
he's up front and honest that he doesn't find your rambling annoying
if anything its comforting for him
aweee happy ending lol
#lowkeyrobin#gn reader#gender neutral reader#they/them reader#five x reader#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves oneshot#aiden gallagher x reader
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