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aliyahwritings · 18 days ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (01)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.2k

Aliyah's Notes: this is my first series on here so go easy on me (#adele) pls + some things are not going to be obx canon ... at least some of yall are warned. anyw im so excited for this cause lord knows the amount of time ive wanted to make a fake dating fic!!!!!!! anyw i hope you all will enjoy this i had so much writing the first chapter

The clatter of high heels against the marble floor echoed in perfect sync with the ticking of your watch. Every step was deliberate, poised—just like your life had to be. Perfection, it seemed, was not a choice but a requirement for survival.

You adjusted your sunglasses, your gaze skimming over the glamorous expanse of the fashion agency's lobby. People buzzed around you like bees in a hive, their worlds spinning, fueled by the weight of names, status, and flawless images. You smiled politely at the receptionist, offering a nod, though your mind was miles away.

To the outside world, your life was golden. The covers of magazines, the invitations to high-society events, the million-dollar deals with luxury brands—it was a fantasy that others could only dream of. It was your dream some time ago, too.

But today, your reality felt like walking on the edge of a tightrope, the safety net fraying below you.

Your phone vibrated in your purse, interrupting your thoughts. You fished it out, your pulse quickening when you saw the text from your lawyer. Three words that sent a chill through your carefully constructed façade.

"We need to talk."

Your heart sank. The issue of your visa had been hanging over your head like a storm cloud for months now, growing darker by the day. You’d known this was coming, but knowing and confronting it were two different beasts.

Fame didn’t shield you from the cold bureaucracy of citizenship laws, and your time was running out. One misstep, one delay, and your golden empire could crumble. In a matter of months, you could be deported, left behind by the very country that had built you up.

With a deep breath, you silenced your phone and slid it back into your purse. This wasn’t something you could dwell on right now, not in public. Your expression remained serene, even though your mind was anything but. You had a shoot in an hour, a charity gala that evening, and at some point, you had to meet with the lawyer to discuss "options"—a word that had started to feel more like a trap than a solution.

As you exited the building, the cool breeze caught your hair, the city unfolding before you like a glittering stage. New York City. You looked out at the streets, the people, the life you fought so hard to build. The car pulled up to the curb, and you climbed inside. On your way to your lawyer.

You stepped into the law office, the familiar scent of polished wood and stale coffee wrapping around you like a tight band.

"Ms. Y/L/N, good afternoon," Nicolas Ramirez, your lawyer, greeted you, standing behind his desk. His expression was composed, but you knew him well enough by now to spot the unease in his eyes.

"Hi," you softly smiled at him. Your heels clicked softly on the floor as you sat down, crossing your legs tightly, as if holding yourself together. "Let’s just get straight to it, okay? How bad is it?"

Nico sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Your visa expires in less than three months."

You felt your stomach twist, your worst fear inching closer to reality. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "And what about the appeals? The extensions?"

"We’ve exhausted every possible option—work visas, artist visas, even humanitarian grounds. Immigration laws are tightening, and without a permanent solution like citizenship or residency, you’ll be forced to leave the country."

"Leave?" Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the full weight of the nightmare you’d been living with.

Leave? Go back there?

The country you had fought so hard to escape. The country where your childhood had been marked by suffocating poverty, where your parents had already planned your marriage before you even turned 15. Where your dreams had been a distant, impossible hope until that one person changed your life forever.

You felt your throat tighten. You couldn’t go back.

Nico’s gaze softened slightly, his voice gentle but firm. "I know what this means for you. I know how difficult—"

"You don’t know," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. "You… You don’t know—I can’t go back there, Nico. I just… I can’t."

He nodded, giving you a moment of silence to compose yourself, but the pressure in your chest only grew. You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay.

"So what now?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Is this it? Am I out of options?"

"Well… There’s one option we haven’t explored yet." his tone was cautious, like he knew what he was about to say would open a new can of worms.

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"Marriage."

The word hung in the air, thick and heavy. You blinked, unable to comprehend at first. "Marriage?" you repeated, as if saying it aloud would make the absurdity of it clear.

"It’s one of the few legal paths left," he explained, leaning forward slightly. "Marriage to a U.S. citizen could secure your green card and, eventually, permanent residency. It’s a legitimate route—many people in similar situations have done it."

You sat back in your chair, the tension in your body coiling tighter. The thought of marriage, of attaching yourself to someone you barely knew for the sake of staying in the country, made your skin crawl. You had already sacrificed so much for your freedom, for your career. And now this?

"You’re telling me the only way to stay here is to marry someone I don’t even love? Just to avoid being sent back to a country I don’t belong in anymore?"

"Not necessarily," Nicolas said, his tone measured. "It wouldn’t have to be a traditional marriage. Think of it as a business arrangement. It’s a legal partnership—nothing more. And it could save your career, your life here."

You crossed your arms tightly, your mind racing. Marriage. It was a word that had haunted you ever since your parents had tried to force you into it as a teenager. Back then, it was their way of controlling you, of keeping you bound to a life you didn’t want. Now, it felt like the universe was throwing the same chains back at you, just in a different form.

"I’ve compiled a list of potential candidates," Arjun continued, sliding a piece of paper across the desk toward you. "People who might be open to an arrangement like this. Athletes, businesspeople—individuals who might benefit from a similar deal."

You glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up. The names blurred in front of your eyes. This wasn’t how your life was supposed to go. You’d already lost your family, fought tooth and nail to get out of your country and build something for yourself in the U.S. And now you were at risk of losing everything—again.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Nico," you said quietly, shaking your head. "I’ve already sacrificed so much. My family… I gave up everything to be here. And now you’re telling me I have to give up even more?"

"I’m not telling you that you have to do anything," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "I’m saying this is an option. One that could keep you here, legally. But the decision is yours. I’m just laying out the possibilities."

You swallowed the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

"I can’t go back there," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "I’ve worked too hard to get here. I can’t lose everything."

He nodded slowly. "Then maybe it’s time to consider unconventional options."

You finally picked up the paper, scanning the names but not really seeing them. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Marriage. It felt like a trap, just like it had back then. But maybe—just maybe—it was the only way to keep your future intact.

"I’ll think about it," you said, standing up and smoothing the front of your dress. "But I’m not making any promises."

"Of course," he said, standing as well. "Just let me know. We’re running out of time, but I’ll support whatever decision you make."

You nodded curtly, turning toward the door. As you stepped out into the cool city air, your chest tightened with the weight of everything you stood to lose. The lights of New York City flickered ahead of you, just out of reach, as though the life you’d built here could vanish at any moment.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly afraid.

Your phone buzzed, dragging you out of your spiraling thoughts. You fished it out of your purse, heart skipping a beat when you saw the name: Nina. Your agent.

With a shaky exhale, you answered. “Nina, hi.”

“Hey, babe!” Nina’s voice was all cheer, a stark contrast to the storm inside you. “So, I have amazing news! Guess who just got major campaign offers coming in? You! Chanel, Loewe, and oh my God, don’t even get me started on Louis Vuitton. The year starts beautifully for you!”

You should’ve felt ecstatic, but instead, the words passed over you like an echo. All you could think of was the countdown Nico had set in motion: three months. Three months before everything you’d built here would be taken away from you.

“That’s… amazing, Nina,” you managed, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Really amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like your sunshine-self.” Nina’s voice softened, concern creeping in. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause. Nina had been there through all your ups and downs, from your rookie days as a model to your rise in the industry. But the immigration issues, the fear of being sent back to a life you couldn’t return to—that was something neither of you could control.

“Three months?” she repeated, her voice going higher. “Oh my God—what the fuck? I thought… I thought you had more time.”

“So did I.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Nina, I don’t know what to do. I’ve called Nico and he tried everything—extensions, appeals—but the laws are tightening, and he said there’s only one real option left.”

There was a brief silence before she asked, “What option?”

You bit your lip. “Marriage. Nico says I could marry someone for a green card.”

“Marriage?” Nina’s voice came out in a shocked squeak. “Like a fake marriage? Babe, are you serious?”

“I don’t know!” you burst out, frustration and fear colliding. “I don’t know what to do! I can’t go back there. I can’t. My parents… My parents already wrote me off as dead, and if I go back, I’m stuck in a place I spent my entire life trying to escape.”

Her voice softened. “I know, honey, I know… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—God, I can’t imagine how scary this is for you.”

You took a shaky breath, grateful for her understanding. Nina wasn’t just your manager—she was one of the few people who you actually close to. She was a 34 years old American-Filipina woman. You trusted her with your life.

“Okay,” Nina said, her voice more focused now. “Okay, now listen. We’ll figure this out. I know Nicolas wouldn’t suggest something like this unless it was a real option. Do you trust him?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I do. But the idea of marrying someone just to stay… it feels like another version of what my parents wanted for me. Like I’m back in that same time of my life.”

“I get it. But this isn’t like that. You’re in control this time,” Nina said. “If this is what you need to stay here, it’s not about love or being owned by someone.”

You nodded to yourself, trying to absorb her words. “Well, um, Nico gave me a list of potential candidates—people who might be willing to make an arrangement. You’ll never guess who’s on it, though.”

“Who? Shawn Mendes? Harry Styles? Tom Holland—”

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, cutting her off. “The basketball play—”

“Yeah, I know who that man is, Y/N. His reputation is a total mess right now. It’s not surprising for him to be on that list.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “It’s a perfect business arrangement for him, too. He needs a way to look respectable again, and I need to stay in the country.”

“So, you’re actually considering this?”

You leaned against a streetlamp, staring at the city around you. “I don’t know. Maybe? It just feels wrong. Like I’m giving up a part of myself.”

“As nicely as this can be said, you are being dramatic here, babe.” Nina sighed softly. “Look, I’m not going to push you either way, okay? But I do think you need to look at it from a different angle. You’re not giving up on yourself. You’re doing what you need to do to stay here, to keep fighting for your career and your future. And Rafe—or whoever you’ll end up marrying—is not your parents. He’s not going to control you or he’ll get slapped.”

You closed your eyes, trying to let her words sink in. She was right—you were in control now. This wasn’t the same as being forced into a marriage you didn’t want. This was about survival. About keeping your life in the U.S. intact.

"Yeah… I guess you’re right," you said softly, feeling some of the tension release from your shoulders. "I just need time to think."

TWO WEEKS LATER.

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm light across your living room. After two relentless weeks of back-to-back fashion shoots, campaign meetings, and gala appearances, you had finally found a moment of peace. You curled up on the plush sofa, sinking into its embrace as the hum of the city outside became a distant murmur. The oversized, loose pajamas you wore were a far cry from the designer gowns and couture you’d been draped in recently, but they were yours—soft, comforting, and familiar. Your hair was twisted into a lazy bun under a satin bonnet.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, finally feeling the weight of exhaustion slip from your shoulders as you closed your eyes.

Buzz. Buzz.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table pulled you from the calm. You groaned softly, reaching for it with one hand, expecting to see another notification about a meeting or event. Instead, it was a message from Nicolas.

“Any thoughts on who you're going to marry? We need to move quickly if we want to ensure everything goes through in time.”

The familiar weight of the situation you’d been trying to avoid crept back into your chest. Two weeks had passed since your lawyer had first laid out the reality of your visa situation. In those weeks, you'd thrown yourself into work, hoping the constant flurry of activity would drown out the anxiety. But now, in the quiet of your home, the decision loomed large again.

You typed back, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

"I haven’t decided yet."

A few seconds later, the reply came through.

"We need to discuss this in person. Can you come to my office today?"

You frowned, your eyes darting around the cozy room, not quite ready to leave your home.

"How about you come here instead?" you typed. "It’s been a long week, and I’d rather talk in private."

There was a pause before the three dots appeared, and then the message followed.

"Sure. I’ll be there in about an hour."

You put your phone down and leaned back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, but it was necessary. Time was running out, and you knew you had to face it—whether you wanted to or not.

An hour passed in a blur, and soon enough, you heard the knock at your door. You padded across the room in your socks, your oversized pajama pants swishing softly as you walked. Opening the door, you found Nicolas standing there, looking as composed as ever in his tailored suit.

“Come in,” you said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.

Nicolas entered, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. "You look... relaxed."

You gave a soft chuckle, gesturing to your pajamas. “Don’t mock the pj’s until you’ve tried them.”

He smiled slightly, but there was a hint of emergency in his expression as he took a seat in the armchair across from you. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, but we really need to make a decision.”

You nodded, sitting back down on the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. “I know… I’ve just been avoiding it.”

“And I noticed,” he said, pulling out a folder from his briefcase. “But with the visa expiration approaching, we don’t have much time. We need to find someone—someone who understands the situation and won’t make things harder.”

You bit your lip, holding a smile, glancing at the folder in his hands. “You bought the list?”

He nodded, and handed it over, and you flipped through the names, recognizing some immediately. Athletes, businessmen, even a couple of actors/singers. And then there was Rafe Cameron, his name standing out like a bold headline.

“I’ve looked at these,” you said quietly. “I just… I don’t know who to choose. None of ‘em feel right.”

Nico leaned forward. “It's not about right or wrong. It’s about who can offer the least amount of personal complications and help you secure your residency. Rafe Cameron, for instance—he’s someone who could benefit from this arrangement as much as you. His reputation needs mending, and this could be a mutually beneficial situation.”

You stared at Rafe’s name, the memories of seeing his name in the news about how much of a womanizer he was… Could you really tie yourself to someone like him in a fake marriage?

“Alright, but I need you to help me decide,” you admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, that’s why I’m here. Let’s break it down together and figure out who makes the most sense, not just legally but for your peace of mind.”

Nicolas opened his briefcase again, pulling out more detailed files on the potential candidates. He laid them out neatly on the coffee table, each name with a stack of information—financial records, personal histories, public perceptions. It was all very businesslike.

You leaned forward, looking at the pages in front of you. Each one represented a major decision, a shift in your life you weren’t entirely ready to accept, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Let’s start with the most practical options,” he said, sliding the file on Rafe Cameron toward you. “I know his name has come up before. He’s wealthy, influential, and… well, let’s be honest, he could use a boost to his public image right now. It’s a good match on paper.”

You stared at Rafe’s name again, tapping the edge of the file with your finger. “Yeah, but he’s also a bit of a mess, isn’t he? I mean, the media paints him as this… whore, and his personal life is always talked about. What if that blows back on me?”

Nicolas raised a brow. “That’s something to consider, but you also have to think of the benefits. His public image might not be very clean, but he’s powerful. Marrying him would put you in a stable position, and if it’s a business arrangement, his private affairs don’t have to concern you.”

You exhaled slowly, still feeling uneasy. Rafe Cameron was trouble, and you knew it. But at the same time, trouble might be exactly what could make this work—for both of you.

“What about the others?” you asked, flipping through the files. “There has to be someone who’s… less complicated.”

“Well,” he said, tapping another file. “there’s Owen Turner. He’s a succesful tech entrepeneur, keeps a low profile. No scandals, no messy reputation. He’s reliable, but you’ll have to approach this differently. He’s more private, less likely to want his personal life on display.”

“And boring—plus, he seems like the type of white guy to want a traditional wife. Like he would expect me to cook for him every night… and he has an ugly name.”

“Owen won’t be expecting home-cooked meals, Y/N. He’s a tech guy; he probably lives on energy drinks and instant ramen,” Nico pointed out, trying to steer you back to the serious topic. “But if we position it as a legal arrangement, he could see the value in it.”

You sighed, leaning back on the chair. “Okay, maybe Owen is the safer options. But can you imagine our wedding announcement? ‘Succesful Tech Entrepeneur Married Famous Model: They Share a Love for Cats and Instant Noodle.’”

Nico shook his head, trying not to smile. “Focus, please. This is a serious matter.”

“Right, right, sorry…” you said, wavering your hand dismissively. “But, what do you think about Rafe?”

“Rafe Cameron is the most straightforward option,” he said, his tone now more measured. “He’s already in the public eye, which means there won’t be as much of a shock if you’re suddenly married. Plus, his need for good press aligns with your need for stability.”

“And personally?”

He smiled softly, a rare gesture from him. “Personally, I think you should go with the person you think you can manage.”

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. Staring at the stack of papers in front of you, Rafe Cameron’s name glaring up at you from the top of the list. Every name on the list had its pros and cons, but something about Rafe’s file felt different. Maybe it was the intensity of his media coverage, the scandals, or the way he dominated the headlines for all the wrong reasons. But as much as you hesitated, his name kept pulling you back.

“I know his reputation isn't spotless,” Nico said, sensing your hesitation, “but in this situation, a clean reputation isn’t the priority. You need someone powerful, someone with enough influence to make this arrangement stick without getting tangled up in emotional complications.”

You nodded, again.”But I don’t know if I can handle all the baggage that comes with Rafe Cameron. His public image is a trainwreck. Wouldn’t that only complicate things more?”

Nico leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Possibly. But think of it this way: his personal life is already so chaotic that a stable, respectable marriage might be exactly what he needs to repair his image. And that’s where you come in. You’d be helping each other.”

Your eyes dropped back down to his file. "Do you think he'd even agree to something like this?"

Nico chuckled softly. “If there’s one thing I know about men like Rafe Cameron, it’s that they understand deals. His reputation is hanging by a thread, and a marriage to someone like you—someone with a pristine public image—could be the ticket to restoring his credibility. It’s a win-win, really.”

You considered Nico’s words. He was right. Rafe had everything to gain from a marriage of convenience, just like you. And while his scandals were messy, they didn’t define him entirely. He was still an elite athlete, one of the best in the game, and with the right PR strategy, you could both come out looking better.

But the thought of marrying someone like him—a notorious playboy with a history of messy breakups—made your stomach churn.

“You know,” Nico continued, “if this were just about your visa, we’d be having a different conversation. But this is about your entire future. Your career, your freedom to stay here, everything you’ve built. I’m not saying it’s an easy choice, but it’s one worth considering.”

You sighed, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "What happens if it falls apart? What if things with Rafe go wrong?"

"That’s why we’ll draft a contract," Nico reassured you. "This won’t be a traditional marriage, Y/N. You’ll both have clear boundaries, and legally, we’ll protect your interests. If things go south, you’ll be covered."

You stared at the file a little longer, then closed your eyes.Rafe Cameron. He was cocky, possessive, and reckless—everything you usually avoided. But maybe that was the key. You wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to control you or make this anything more than a business transaction.

It would be messy. It would be complicated. But it would also keep you here, in the country you’d fought so hard to call home. And maybe, just maybe, it would be the solution you both needed.

“Okay,” you said softly, your decision finally settling. “I’ll do it.”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up, a little surprised at how quickly you’d made up your mind. “You’re sure?”

“No,” you admitted with a weak smile. “But I think this is the best option. I’ll marry Rafe Cameron.”

Nico nodded, closing the folder with a satisfied smile. “Good. I’ll set up a meeting with him. We’ll get the ball rolling.”

Oh God, you were going to marry Rafe Cameron…

chapter two

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hermetiqa · 3 months ago

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When will you meet your future spouse?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

Hello, Pile 1! I feel like you'll meet your future spouse when you prefer to be alone and be away from all the people you already know. You might think of going to some camp alone and when you're getting together in the camp, you might have come up with the idea of using a different name when you introduce yourself because you intend not to share who you truly are. You might think of the names Ella, Lily, Alisha, Cindy, Helena. The spelling of the names doesn't matter, any alternative spellings or name variations could be in your mind too. You might even use an odd name, like a name known to be masculine such as Alex and George. There's a TikToker who keeps popping in my head right now, the one who has a Chloe Paddington bags and named her bags. You might have had this camp and name idea from her. I can see that your future spouse might be the one who would approach you first and start the conversation, and they really have a strong masculine energy here while you're the feminine one. I'm also getting an intuitive energy from you and you might have a feeling that you feel like you've known each other for a long time, even if it was really your first time meeting each other. You might be a fire sign and they could be a water sign, but you're quite compatible. It seems like you could have each other's sun in one's moon and/or ascendant.

Signs: dark/black hair, curly hair, brown eyes, dark/light academia fashion style, white loose button-down shirt, latino/a looks, speaks spanish and italian, campfire, marshmallows, trees, beach, seashore, lowtide, collecting seashells

Pile 2

Hello, Pile 2! As for you, I'm seeing a picnic that involves books and paintings. 01:01 on the clock right now. You might think of reading a book or doing a painting, specifically watercolor or oil painting, in the afternoon. You might do this alone in a park or somewhere that has a pond. To be more detailed, I'm getting that you might read a book in a park and would prefer to paint some place that has a pond with koi fish or water lilies so you can paint them. I'm getting the seasons spring and summer too. You could be an introvert and you often go to your comfort places to breathe and rewind. And your future spouse would notice you visiting the same place oftentimes. They could observe you for a while before approaching you as well. And I feel like they might ask you if they could join you to read a book or paint something. You might even exchange books and paintings. You might annotate each other's books and paint each other's paintings (you know the thing where you both paint something on your canvas and you exchange each other's unfinished paintings and add something, and so on).

Signs: dark/brunette hair, curly hair, blue eyes, strong jawline, downtown/retro fashion, long white skirts, baggy shirts, leather bag, doc martens, the secret history, if we were villains, ophelia, the lumineers, (curtain) bangs, wavy hair, booktok

Pile 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like you'll meet yours when you're doing some charity event or donating something. It could be related to dogs and/or cats, so you could be pet lovers. This might be an all-of-a-sudden decision because the charity/donation wasn't planned that much but I'm getting that you might meet there. You might organize the charity or help them organize and they'll help too, and you might do most of the work together. I'm also getting that this is when you're trying to become a better person and finally end your toxic habits. I feel like you have feminine energy but to other people, you show your masculine energy. You might think of getting something to eat together at lunch when you work together after a charity event, and this is when you'll start to know each other. You'll be interested in each other's interests and might think that you're compatible, and might suit each other. You'll be really fond of each other for a while which will lead you to some dates and hanging out a lot. I feel like you'll both reciprocate each other's wants and needs in this connection, especially with all the adjustments at first, but you'll be close friends even while you're dating, you might be comfortable to be around each other as if you're best friends.

Signs: blonde, blue/green eyes, wavy hair, daisies/flowers on hair, blue shorts, white and blue shirt, band shirts, casual fashion, flexible, gymnastics and ballet (during childhood), waffles, hotdogs, pizzas, medium hair length, straight hair, brown hair highlights, summer

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neptuneiris · 2 months ago

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Cruel Summer (01/10)

Sunset's Bay

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: There are two sides to the city of Sunset's Bay, the rich who live in 'Crown's' and the poor who live in 'Black Waves'. What happens when a rich guy and a poor girl meet and inevitably fall in love? In the city where they live and with their status, that can't be possible.

words: 5.8k

series masterlist • next part

I wasn't sure about posting this but if you like the story I will continue with it, it all depends on how you receive it😬

in case you like it, I want to advance that the story will be a kind of forbidden love by the fact of rich and poor hehe and I have a lot prepared, basically everything is already written, I just need to structure it in a better way

this has only been an introduction to the world of Sunset's Bay, so I hope you enjoy it and the warnings will be added as I post the chapters if you like it🤗

so enjoy!

Sunset's Bay.

The hidden but mostly inhabited beach on the California Coast, with golden and white sands that slide into crystal clear waters of such a deep blue that it seems infinite.

According to Google, it is one of the most beautiful beaches in Northern California and where teenagers living in surrounding cities yearn to come every time a new summer begins.

Sunset and sunrise on these waters are beautiful, as they transform the horizon into a palette of vibrant colors, from warm shades of gold and pink to soft purple and the deep blue of night.

Every summer, the beach comes alive with exciting surfing tournaments, as well as Sunset's Pier, the midpoint of the beach where everyone mingles, transforms into charity events with live music, fireworks and lamp shows that illuminate the night with a mesmerizing light show.

Boat and yacht rides add a touch of sophistication to the coastal scene. This allows tourists to explore the waters beyond the beach, visit small islands up close and enjoy the serenity of the open sea.

But on top of all that, everything is meticulously maintained, most of it, like the clean, spacious beaches, adorned by palm trees swaying gently in the sea breeze.

And your favorite section, the volcanic stone cliffs that are distributed in specific locations on the beach, offering rocky walls as you sit on the seashore behind you and all around, emerging as natural guardians of the beach.

And from their heights, you can take in panoramic views of all the beauty of the landscape, encompassing the vast endless ocean and coastline to the endless horizon.

You always looked forward to coming here as a child when a new term at school ended and your mother was always willing to come and spend the vacations with your relatives, the Blackwoods.

They always welcomed you and your mother and together with your cousin Alysanne, you had an amazing summer.

Ever since you were little, you have always been tattooed with the memory of the sand on your feet, the salt air in your nostrils, the water enveloping you completely and the sun in full sunset caressing your whole face as you watched it on the horizon starting to descend on the shore of the beach with the cliffs behind you.

And now, that's all you know, a life in Sunset's and your frequent days at the beach.

Living with your aunt and uncle and Alysanne in a house big enough to also make room for you on the beach shore, this has been your home for exactly a year now.

And now summer has begun.

"Sam has sent a message."

You raise your gaze to Alysanne as you finish cleaning one of the tables.

"He says to meet him at the beach with the others in the evening. Do you want to go?"

You place a small smile on your lips.

"Sure."

"Table nine!"

You both turn your heads toward your boss, who looks at both of you as if he wants to kill you at any moment, and you quickly rush to serve the food, briefly wiping the sweat from your brow to keep working.

"Hurry up, Blackwood," Mr. Frey tells you reluctantly as you begin to pick up the orders on the tray.

You let out a long breath and glance at the clock briefly before going to serve, realizing that you will have to put up with this for four more hours and for the rest of the summer as well.

Unfortunately you and Alysanne have to work, as it has been for some months now at a seafood restaurant where the 'rich' people from this side of the city come to enjoy the delicious food.

And because of the summer, the work has increased. But that doesn't stop them both from having fun now that summer has begun.

So as soon as you and Alysanne finish your shift, you head home as soon as possible and start getting ready to meet your friends at the beach.

Previously going out and having fun was a problem for Alysanne's parents, your aunt and uncle were not the liberal type, but as soon as you both started working and helping them with the household expenses with what you could, they started to be more permissive and understanding.

And this is your home, the less ostentatious side of the city, but still genuine.

Once you join Sam and all the boys on the beach, you head for the small boat floating near the shore.

It is not a luxurious boat, much less can it be compared to a boat or yacht of the latest model, but it is a modest boat that has seen many summer seasons.

And it has taken them all to many spots on the beach and you have shared many anecdotes on it.

And as the boat glides through the calm waters, you and Alysanne enjoy the laughter and stories shared by the boys from the neighborhood, Sam, Daniel and Chase.

The three of them have been childhood friends of Alysanne's and when you came to live with her officially, she introduced you to them and now you all have formed a group of friends where you enjoy afternoons like these with Sam's boat and where you also go swimming and surfing all together.

The sea breeze caresses your faces and the sun slowly begins to descend as it paints the sky in warm golden tones, until the afternoon turns into night.

And on the beach, with a campfire in the center, the starry sky above and all together in a circle, you start burning marshmallows and drinking beer.

"And tell us..." speaks Daniel, watching you both curiously, "How about the slave life for the rich people?"

You and your cousin let out a small laugh.

"Slaves?" you repeat amused.

"Well yeah, come on, you said your boss... what's his name? Grey? Payne?"

"Frey," Alysanne corrects him.

"Yeah, that," he points to her, "He's a jerk or not?"

"And no concept of patience and prudence," you add.

"I imagine the ones who eat there are worse, no?" asks Chase.

Daniel snaps his fingers at him.

"Lannister?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. Jason Lannister has that vibe."

"I put him in the top one of the most hated, along with the Baratheons. And I have a feeling the Arryns do too, I don't know why," Daniel again looks at you both, "Right?"

"You work for them," Alysanne tells him amused, "Don't you know that?"

"Well, it's not like they can tell me much for cleaning their boats and yachts but... no–they're extremely nice, though..." he holds up his finger with a thoughtful expression, "Though I think there must be something wrong with them."

Alysanne lets out a snort.

"They're rich and live at Crown's, practically owning all the establishments on the beach just like the Lannisters, Baratheons, Tyrells and others leaving nothing for us, the poor ones, because they despise us," she says with an ironic but true tone "Of course there must be something wrong with them."

"One time one of them didn't leave me a tip," you say, remembering, "The Tyrell's."

Sam looks at you amused.

"Tips are not obligatory."

"Oh come on," you retort, with a touch of irony, "They're rich, they can have yachts and mansions, but can't they at least give me a five percent tip?"

"Yet it's not obligatory."

Everyone lets out a laugh.

"Yeah, it's not the nicest place to work and the customers aren't necessarily nice but the pay is good, after all," Alysanne says as she shrugs.

And that's true.

Even though it's not a good work environment, the necessity is what makes you not quit and endure as much as you can. Even though your aunt and uncle are taking care of you and taking responsibility for you, you know you can't continue that way forever.

You want to be independent, pay for your own things, especially you want to pay for college, but to do that, you have to work and now this is the job.

Besides it's useless to find work elsewhere when the owners are still the same; rich and arrogant. And you can't find work on your side of the city because the pay won't be much or maybe they won't even hire because they can't afford it.

But right now, being here enjoying the summer with your friends and your cousin, you allow yourself not to think about it and just continue to criticize the rich people.

And after many cans of beer, Chase picks up his guitar and you all together start singing in the most off-key and horrible way possible, laughing amongst everyone with the jokes filling the air, just like the heat of the flames and the aroma of roasting marshmallows.

"You had a party and didn't invite me!?"

Almost everyone together turns their heads unexpectedly toward the approaching outside voice laden with amusement and mild reproach.

And then they all see Cregan Stark with a huge grin and a bottle of beer in hand.

The guys soon start showing off at the mere sight of him, making jokes and greeting him with great enthusiasm, as Cregan greets them.

And you just watch Alysanne with a sly smile, amused by Cregan's sudden appearance, but of course, she quickly hides all traces of whatever her reaction is to seeing him, adjusting her expression to one of neutrality as she tries to appear disinterested.

But you know.

And you're amused at how she acts as if you don't know her.

Cregan Stark is the spoiled son of one of the wealthiest families in Sunset's, living in one of the most exclusive areas on the Crown's side.

His appearance reflects his status; brand name clothes, really expensive accessories, late model car and an attitude that denotes familiarity with luxury. However, despite his wealth, Cregan has proven to be different from other boys in his social environment.

Although he has access to all the luxuries, he does not carry with him the air of superiority and arrogance that many would expect from someone like him and that those of his class usually display.

In fact, Cregan became friends with Chase, who works for his family in the ports.

And it was Chase who introduced him to the group and although at first no one felt confident with him, Cregan instead of imposing his status, imposed a genuine and friendly demeanor that won the friendship of everyone in the circle.

Later everyone understood that he doesn't really enjoy being with people from the same environment as himself. The wealthy teenagers he usually hung out with, for the most part, were overly judgmental and arrogant.

So thanks to Chase, he found company with all of you, the guys from across the city who don't have a mansion and all the money in the world, but who are genuine and free of pretense.

Despite the looks people give Cregan for not understanding his choice of company, he deliberately ignores them. His parents don't say anything to him either, although he says they clearly prefer that he stop interact with you.

"I am deeply, intensely and extremely offended," he says expressing mock indignation, holding a hand to his chest, watching you incredulously but amused.

"Come on, man, don't get dramatic," Chase tells him giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

"Yeah, we're just getting warmed up," Sam encourages him.

"Besides..." says Daniel, in an exaggerated tone, "We can't send messages across the beach, us poor people have to use carrier pigeons like the olden days to get anything to you, but guess what... we're so poor we can't even afford pigeons."

Everyone lets out a laugh, enjoying Daniel's humor in implying the differences between the poor and the rich on the beach.

"Stop, seriously, why didn't you guys tell me you were doing this?" Cregan asks, taking a seat on the logs.

"I heard there's a party on your side of the beach and I figured you'd be heading over there," Chase tells him, "Which you did, didn't you?" he points to the beer in his hand.

He lets out a long breath.

"Yeah but it was pretty fucking boring."

"Boring?" you repeat incredulously, "A party with a DJ, champagne and yachts I highly doubt is boring."

"Well, not that it wasn't fun," he says looking around and observing everyone, "But I wanted this, to be with you guys, the atmosphere."

"And how did you know we were here?" asks Alysanne curious.

"I didn't exactly know," he smiles at her, "So I just decided to come and try my luck."

"Oh man, stop it or you'll make me cry," Daniel jokes, holding a hand to his heart.

"He loves us, doesn't he?" asks Sam, with a smirk.

"Yeah, he definitely loves us."

Everyone laughs and you watch discreetly as he and Alysanne start throwing their little looks at each other.

"Party with DJ and yachts? Man, if I were you, I'd be enjoying that," Sam confesses, shaking his head in a gesture of incomprehension.

"It's not big deal and people are hateful, believe me."

No one argues with him about that but you too sometimes wish you could have fun like that, have the experience of going to a beach party like the rich kids in the movies, just once.

But the time will come, someday, there are still many summers left to enjoy.

The conversation flows as the boys settle around the campfire, the warmth of the fire contrasting with the cool night breeze blowing in from the sea.

The atmosphere is filled with laughter and banter, and the relaxed beach setting becomes the perfect backdrop for a night of genuine camaraderie.

Cregan, with his carefree and genuine attitude, seems to fit right in with all fo you and that he values sincere company over superficial luxury.

And you don't know exactly how much more time passes or how many beers that Daniel brings back the theme of the rich party on the other side of the beach.

"Hey, Cregan," he says, leaning forward with a mischievous expression, "Since you're here, why don't you take us to that party? I'm sure it's not as bad as you say."

Cregan raises an eyebrow, amused but surprised.

"What?"

Something about Daniel's words clicks in everyone's head, even yours, so you quickly exchange glances with Alysanne. And Cregan notices how everyone starts to truly consider it.

"Do you guys really want to go to that party?"

"And why not?" asks Alysanne, with an grin, "I'm sure we can have fun, even if we're not part of the rich circle."

"Yeah, and besides..." adds Sam, with a persuasive tone, "It would be interesting to see what the other side of the city is like from the inside. We've never been to a party like this."

Cregan seems to think about it for a moment, looking at the boys with a mixture of doubt and amusement.

"Seriously you guys are telling me this? The rich haters?"

You shrug.

"The rich hate us too."

"And that's precisely why we want to go," Sam says, gesturing animatedly, "We want to try something different. And who knows, maybe we'll give you a good reason to have a little more fun at that party. Right, Chase?"

Everyone looks at Chase, who shrugs.

"I guess that wouldn't be bad."

"But you haven't thought this through," Cregan insists, "As soon as they see you all, they'll know you're not like them."

Everyone looks at themselves and well... he's right.

The rich, especially those who are the same age as you, have a radar to recognize someone who is just like them... or not.

But you don't blame them, since you have them too, the difference is that you don't make disgusted faces or criticize in whispers as soon as you notice.

You notice your two-piece bikini top is wrinkled and is clearly second hand, besides your worn-out sandals. Alysanne is also in the same condition as you and the boys... well, they're worse.

Sam's shirt is torn, Chase's is torn, and the clothes are visibly secondhand.

"We have better clothes at home," you tell Alysanne and she nods.

"And we take our shirts off and stay in shorts," Daniel says, in solution, "Are we at the beach or not?"

"And if something goes wrong, we can always run out and come back here," Alysanne suggests.

Everyone nods and basically watches Cregan with puppy dog eyes, hopeful that he will take you to his kind of people.

"What do you think, Cregan?"

Cregan is silent for a few seconds, his gaze sweeping over the group around him, analyzing and thinking about all the things that could go wrong. And he doesn't pass up the abandoned cat look that Daniel and Sam throw at him.

And finally, he lets out a laugh and a resigned sigh.

"All right, all right. I'll take you. But if we have a bad time, don't say I didn't warn you."

"That's what I like to hear!" exclaims Sam, raising his arms in victory.

"We won't regret it."

"We may not but the rich will."

"Thanks, Cregan," says Alysanne, patting him on the back.

You frown as you watch her gesture and also notice Cregan's confused look for a moment, but go back to watching the boys.

"Well, then let's go before I change my mind."

You put out the campfire, pick up the trash and with laughter they all very animatedly walk away from your spot on the beach, heading first towards the trash cans and then towards Cregan's car.

"You do know Cregan likes you, don't you?" you say to Alysanne, walking a little further away from the guys.

She gives you an incredulous look.

"What?"

"Oh come on and you like him too, don't deny it."

"Of course I don't."

"Of course you do."

"You're crazy."

"And you won't stand a chance if you keep treating him like just a dude."

"Oh yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

You let out a laugh, understanding that it will be difficult for her to accept and share it with you, so you give her time. The guys behind you laugh too, with the echo fading into the salty air, leaving the sea breeze and the sound of the waves behind.

The difference in locations is completely noticeable.

You leave behind the small wooden houses, the unkempt streets, the establishments where you and your friends can shop, the bicycles and old cars, to move to large neighborhoods with green grass, trees and bushes on every corner with huge luxurious houses, almost mansions with modern cars and expensive decorations.

The guys are excited and so are you, as you have never explored these sections of the beach before, which are completely exclusive and with access for the rich people.

Obviously there are entrances with booths and security guards, so Cregan's appearance alone proves he's a Stark and he's allowed in without objection.

And soon enough, you arrive at the party.

"Oh my goodness, look at this," exclaims Alysanne, wide-eyed as she takes in the scene.

"That's a Prestige F4?" asks Sam in surprise, eyeing the luxurious yacht in the distance.

"Seriously, how much money do these people have?" mutters Daniel, in shock.

"More than you'll ever have," Alysanne tells him with a smirk as you all walk onto the beach illuminated by the party lights.

"You don't know that," Chase replies to her, pretending to be offended, "Maybe someday I'll get rich and buy one of those," he points to the yachts.

"I'm very offended that you didn't invite us to your parties sooner," Daniel says to Cregan, putting a hand to his chest as if he were badly wounded, "How could you hide all this from us?"

"Don't draw too much attention to yourselves, guys," Cregan asks with a mixture of concern and amusement in his voice.

"We won't," says Sam, "We'll just enjoy ourselves apart from the others but inside, you get it?"

The music starts to get louder and soon enough, we are inside the party.

Blue and purple neon lights illuminate the white sand, creating a dazzling contrast against the night sky. Waves break gently on the shore, almost muted by the music vibrating through the air.

There is indeed a DJ from a raised platform and most of the people here dance in the center to the music, some with cocktails in hand, bottles of champagne or recording the moment on their phones.

Near the dock, several luxurious yachts are docked, all decorated with lights flashing to the rhythm of the music. There are people inside them, enjoying the party from right there.

Some people get off the yachts to join the party on the beach, while others stay on board, enjoying the view and the exclusivity it offers.

If not beer, there is a bar offering a variety of exotic drinks and gourmet appetizers, such as sushi, caviar and canapés.

And throughout the party, groups of people are spread out, chatting animatedly, laughing, toasting and dancing. There are also party games, such as beer pong and spin the bottle.

While others gather around improvised campfires farther away near the sea, where the atmosphere is more relaxed, watching the spectacle around them.

The air is permeated with the smell of sea salt mixed with expensive perfumes and the sound of laughter and music all along the beach.

It is a party that clearly reflects the wealth and status of their hosts, as well as the people present; pure spoiled kids with rich parents.

"Are we going to have fun or what!?" exclaims Sam excitedly, fully entering the party and everyone follows.

Chase convinces Cregan to be worrying since most of the people here are in their own world and he doubts drunkenly checking to see if they have the latest model Iphone or what.

And honestly you relax too as everyone here is having fun and you along with Alysanne look more presentable in nice bikinis.

They are second hand still but they are more cared for than the others you have.

Sam quickly orders drinks, surprised and excited to have gotten a bottle of champagne, then Cregan and the others take him and you and Alysanne to a more secluded spot.

You make a space for yourselves on the sand, a bit secluded from everyone, having the view of the huge luxurious houses, the cliffs in the distance and also the illuminated yachts on the dock behind you.

Pretty soon you have your beer and start enjoying yourselves just like everyone else, not worrying too much and just pretending you are one of them all.

Mingling with the rich at Sunset's pier is one thing, since the pier is the center of the entire beach and there are no prejudices there, but now pretending to be one is completely different.

You find yourself watching everyone around you when Alysanne nudges you slightly and points her gaze to a specific spot.

"Look at that."

You follow her gaze and see a group of girls.

"That bracelet is from Pandora, I saw it on Instagram."

From here you can see how their gold and silver necklaces and bracelets sparkle. Also the bikinis they have on are beautiful, certainly brand name. There is also a girl with a Guess bag and they all have the latest Iphone model in their hand.

And you turn to Alysanne with a shrug.

"Why are we judging when it should be the other way around?"

"We're not judging, we're just noticing the differences between girls like them and girls like us."

You both let out a laugh.

"You definitely want that Pandora bracelet, don't you?" you look at her amused.

"And you don't?"

The two of you continue to observe or rather admire all those rich girls who have fancy accessories when suddenly you hear a specific boast behind you.

You turn your head and see the dock, noticing how some impeccably dressed people are boarding one of the larger yachts docked near the shore.

And there they are.

You think as you make out those distinctive black, red and silver hair.

Of course they couldn't miss a party like this, the sons of the most influential families in the city, the Lannister's, Baratheon's and Targaryen's, practically the elite of Sunset's.

You've seen Cerelle, Tyshara and Loreon Lannister before on the Sunset's Pier, their red hair gives away who they are instantly. They always brag about their luxurious yachts, cars, jewelry stores and everything else they own.

Their father, Jason Lannister, has built an empire based on shipbuilding and port development.

From what you understand, his company designs and manufactures some of the most advanced and exclusive ships for the world's elite.

In addition to this, Lannister also owns a network of ports and shipyards on several coasts, allowing him to maintain a steady flow of wealth through port fees and contracts with global corporations.

This influence has given him a prominent place among the city's powerful and his family has inherited not only his fortune, but also his imposing and domineering character.

So it is no surprise that the Lannister's are typical spoiled children with clearly very wealthy parents, as are the others, especially the Baratheon's, Cassandra, Maris and Floris.

Known as much for their tanned skin and peculiar dark hair as for their arrogant attitude, they always seek to be the center of attention at any such social event.

Cassandra, the eldest, has a dominant bearing and never misses an opportunity to show off her status. She is also the best known of the daughters to go out every now and then with a boy from an important family either from the city or abroad.

Next, there is Maris, the quietest of the three and the most reserved, but still, as you have heard, just as spoiled and boastful as her older sister.

And finally, Floris, Cerelle's best friend and supposedly the most arrogant, capricious, shallow and boastful of the three.

She is the one who seems the sweetest at first glance, but her spoiled nature soon becomes evident when something doesn't go her way.

You also know that there are two other children, a daughter and a son, Ellyn and Royce, but apparently Ellyn prefers to stay at home and Royce does not live here.

Her father, Borros Baratheon, is a most important and influential shipping magnate and merchant in the region, known for his connections with outside businessmen.

He owns one of the largest commercial fleets operating along the entire Pacific coast. You don't know exactly what it's about but the guys have talked about how his company specializes in logistics and shipping goods across the ocean or something like that.

And finally, the sons of the most powerful family in the entire city and the entire country, the Targaryen's.

Viserys Targaryen is known as the most powerful man in the entire country and by extension his entire family as well. He owns one of the largest and most influential corporations in the region.

Your uncle Ben always had a kind of admiration for him, though your aunt always expressed her dislike of him, as well as the other families, for simply being other greedy money-rotters who drive up the costs of the city for all that they invest to elevate their status and leave you poor people increasingly difficult to make a living.

You honestly couldn't agree with her more, but the Targaryen's have been forging their main empire here in Sunset's for a very long time now and there is nothing that can really be done about it.

The Targaryen business empire focuses on multiple sectors, but they are best known for owning a very prestigious bank, where they serve wealthy elites and large corporations, as well as financing large scale projects, such as real estate developments, technology or even public infrastructure.

You understand that he has built and manages shopping malls, corporate skyscrapers and exclusive developments in major cities across the country, as well as high profile tourist destinations like Sunset's.

So basically all of them and him especially have total control over the financial resources of the region, as well as infrastructure and development in the most luxurious sectors.

Although Viserys and his wife Alicent are no longer seen as much at events this side of Crown's and on the pier, their influence still shapes everything that happens here.

"Hey."

Sam snaps you out of your thoughts when you feel him tap you on the shoulder and you turn your head towards him, confused and attentive.

"Hm?"

"What are you looking at?" he asks you amused, sitting down next to you and offering you a new bottle of beer.

"Oh, no, nothing, just..." you shake your head, taking the beer and not paying attention to the son's and daughter's of rich parents.

But Sam had followed your gaze before.

"I know, they're beautiful, aren't they?"

You immediately watch him intently.

"Who?"

"The yachts," he tells you as if it's obvious, "Imagine spending a whole weekend on one, just doing this..." he points to the beer and all the partying, "In the middle of the ocean."

You let out a small laugh.

"That's your biggest dream, isn't it?"

"And for the yacht to be mine, obviously," he says excitedly, turning his gaze back to the dock where they all are, "If I used to see them from afar and feel envious, now it's torture to have them so close."

You look to where he sees and he has a very good point. They could live perfectly well on one of those yachts and there would be no problem, which is also one of your dreams.

"Oh, come on Sam," you give him a friendly smack, looking at him again and you notice the gleam of longing in his eyes, "Surely your charm can make a girl from Crown's fall in love with you and let you enjoy the amazing yachts."

He looks at you incredulously.

"A Crown's girl with someone like me? Are you kidding?"

"It's not impossible," you shrug.

"Oh yeah, here at Sunset's everything is impossible if you don't live on this side of town."

And that's another good point and very true.

Daniel joins you and Sam's little group and you stop paying attention the moment you turn your gaze back towards the yachts and them specifically.

This time you focus on the Targaryen's, Helaena, Aegon and Aemond.

Surprisingly, despite being in the top tier of the wealthiest and most powerful family in the entire city and country, compared to the Lannister's, Baratheon's, Tyrell's, Arryn's, Stark's and Greyjoy's, they are not so smug, superficial and arrogant.

Although, come to think of it, the only exception is Aegon.

The eldest of the brothers, he is characteristic of his carefree and arrogant attitude. His life is summed up in parties, girls and excesses. Everyone knows him, he is the soul of the party and drives all the girls crazy.

For him, life is a game where he always wins. Sometimes he seems like the typical privileged son who has never had to strive for anything, but his power lies precisely in that.

Then there is Helaena, the only sister among the Targaryens who has a pleasant and gentle presence.

Although she is rich, the richest of them all and extremely beautiful, she doesn't abuse it, she doesn't show it off, she's not shallow or arrogant, besides she's always looking out for her siblings.

She is the kind of person who doesn't need to shout to be noticed and with just a quiet smile, she earns the respect and admiration of those around her.

You know a little about her as Chase has a little now not so secret crush on her and honestly you don't blame him, she is absolutely beautiful and even kind, which is rare due to her provenance.

And finally there's Aemond, who of all them, he's always been... different.

Where Aegon is shameless and carefree, Aemond is calculating and serious. Always impeccably dressed, with an expression that doesn't say much and keeps him at a safe distance from most.

From what you've heard, he's extremely intelligent, he's also reserved and quiet, the complete opposite of Aegon.

There is also a rumor about him about his left eye, something about an accident as a child and where he apparently wears a prosthetic.

You don't really know much about it or him but he's always been intriguing and mysterious, in a way.

You focus on him specifically, watching him from a distance, curious, as he takes a seat on the deck with an expression you can't read as it doesn't tell you much.

You watch as his short silver hair moves slightly in the wind and breeze, as well as he watches everything around him intently, to again focus on his siblings and Floris.

Floris is his girlfriend, apparently they have been dating for a few months now and have given a lot to talk about since no one expected Aemond to even date anyone.

But there they are.

You watch as Floris approaches him and takes a seat on his lap, looking radiant in a tight dress and a huge smile on her face, but he, on the other hand, remains expressionless.

Floris murmurs something in his ear, to which he responds with a slight smile, but averts his gaze to the horizon. However, she gently takes him by the jaw and leaves a soft kiss on his lips.

They begin to kiss and you look away, trying to refocus on the party and enjoying yourself here with your friends.

However, being here with all these wealthy people, especially the Targaryen's, you can't help but feel that divide about the rich and the poor at Sunset's.

You feel like you live in two different worlds, where they, the rich, live a life completely oblivious to the concerns of the people on the other side of town, in Crown's.

While you and the others work in the restaurants, clean their yachts, boats, houses and make sure their lives are comfortable.

They float above it all, the Targaryen's, Lannister's, Stark's, Baratheon's and so on, attending parties and making decisions that only benefit their own.

But you, the poor, the ones who live in Black Waters have nothing, you don't have the money, the influence or the power. Even the name of your side of town is a mockery to them, the rich, in despising even more the poor who don't have what they have.

But that's the life in Sunset's Bay.

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern hotd #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #modern aemond #modern au #aemond one eye #aemond x oc

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lonelysgorg · 17 days ago

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　　　yuna opens the bag further, allowing charity to peek at the selection she had available. a soft chuckle escapes the woman, thoroughly amused by the threat thrown towards her. ❝ wouldn't dream of it, ❞ she retorts, fingers reaching down to blindly grab a handful and offer it to the younger woman. ❝ i hope you're a fan of . . . ❞ dark eyes glance down at the candy now being presented to charity. ❝ three musketeers and skittles ?? ❞

you're never too old for trick-or-treating. a statement that's constantly told to the masses, but it's only when she sees the other does charity finally believe it. "sure, i'll take somethin'," slipping into a space beside her, nosily glancing over to take a peak at what the variety was. the corners of her lips pull into a wider smile as she continues: "and don't even think 'bout givin' me all the ones you hate 'cause i might ban you from my place next year."

not that charity actually planned on being here by then, but an empty threat never hurt anyone.

#yes AHHH and bailey ... iconic duo happening rn #m4ntras #𝜗𝒞 ̇🎧 ̟ ❛ 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫. — YUNA & CHARITY 01. ❜#𝜗𝒞 ̇🎧 ̟ ❛ 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺. — YUNA MIN. ❜

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rongzhi · 3 days ago

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jenscx · 1 year ago

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CALL ME BACK — jang wonyoung smau

being the vice-president of the student council, your responsibility is to show new students around the school. who could predict your childhood friend to be the one showing up on the first day?

STATUS LOADING… in progress!

TAGS — heavy angst, toxic relationship, cursing, major red flags, jealousy, trust issues, mentions of alcohol, cheating, childhood friends, mentions of sexual acts, homophobia more to be added!

FEATURING — ive, lesserafim, enhypen, nmixx, aespa

UPDATES — CANCELLED

! IMPORTANT ! this fic is not an accurate portrayal of the kpop idols mentioned. everything stated is fiction.

CHARACTERS… future lawyers | ymcmb | newbies

00. prologue

01. new year new me

02. detective conan

03. charity case

04. bad idea, right?

05. nasty freak

06. round 2

07. wonyoung groupie

08. feminist icon sunghoon

09. girlfriend applications

10. soft launch

11. fetus unnie

12. nicknames and parties

13. omega in heat

14. ure joking

15. last friday night

16. broken promises

17. where are u

18. right here

19. oh shit

20. two is better than one

21. erm.. awkward!

22. twinkhoon

BONUS. sakura’s playlist

23. nuclear bomb explosion

BONUS. yn’s playlist

24. childhood friends to lovers

25. cause of death

END

TAGS ! @jiwoneiric @sserabey @yoontoonwhs @haerinsloverr @wallfl9wer @klvarchives @r4cjh @jisooftme @jeindall777 @chaersly @perfectsunlight @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback @thefckghost @pagedpick7 @sympathywon @haerinkisser @pinxeajin @pandafuriosa60 @lilsvx @limbforalimb @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @sewiouslyz @manooffline @geeminz @flolio @watamotee33 @winzzie @gayforalll @xszn (closed)

#ive #ive x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #call me back ft. jwy #lesserafim #lesserafim x Reader #sakura x reader #miyawaki Sakura x Reader

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oceanicxeyes · 2 months ago

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Concern about other people first and only then regarding his own came… natural to Walter. Being a teacher at a school where youngsters had abilities that varied from the most mundane ones to downright world-ending – he always placed the needs of others and their safety first. To ask if someone was alright after a training session, a bad day, a beating…. It came natural to him. He was once the one being asked if he was alright. He was once the one whose hand was held when he felt alone or confused. Why not do the same for others? Even Jason – the RED RANGER deserved to have someone inquiring about his safety. He fought by his side and in Walter’s eyes…. he was a friend. An ally. Someone whose goals were the same as his. A light, almost musical chuckle escaped past his parted open lips and Walter found himself wondering what the hell had just happened. He was supposed to return to school… not just quickly accept someone’s invitation to dinner, even more so when he barely knew the man. But in all honesty, he was feeling a tad hungry and he was… CURIOUS.Not just about the whole Power Rangers thing and how they actually dealt with creatures that looked straight out of comic books. He was also CURIOUS about Jason. About the man that took the mantle of the Red Ranger, the ipso facto leader of the group. What was Jason like? How did having that sort of powers changed his life? Walter couldn’t deny that he wanted to learn all he could, especially since most of the people he knew that had powers were mutants or possessed some sort of magic. Was the rangers powers considered mutant abilities? No. Magic? Technological advancement? So…. why not accept the dinner invitation? Why not learn more about who Jason was? It would also be quite good not to return to the school right away. His friends often commented on how poor of a social life he had.

“Very well. I have dinner at your place tonight and in the near future, assuming we don’t get dragged to another sudden conflict, I plan on taking you out to dinner as a way to say thank you for helping me.” He would have eventually dealt with the problem but Walter couldn’t deny that fighting alongside someone was better than fighting solo. And Jason had the skills and clearly the means to endure the fight, although despite him saying that his suit protected him from injury – it wouldn’t just erase the concern from Walter’s face. He really never liked to see someone else get hurt at his expense. That was not the sort of man that he was. And if inviting Jason out to dinner would make it better – so be it. It was a… DATE. Walter’s attention quickly shifted from Jason’s face to where their hands linked. Fingers intertwined, such a gentle and unexpected action that he really didn’t know what to say. He did like to hold hands but that was sudden – yet welcoming at the same time. Hell, he was going to have dinner at Jason’s, so what was some hand holding compared to that? “You have a faster way to get out of here?” Walter’s head tilted to the side, a curious look appearing on his features as he studied Jason’s face for a little longer, trying to ascertain what he really meant by that. And then… there were arms around him. Keeping him close, pressing their bodies to close together that Walter couldn’t help but to feel very, very conscious of his body in that particular moment. They were chest against chest and other areas against other areas and their faces where so close that he could have sworn that he could feel Jason’s breath dancing against his skin. “I trust you. There’s not even a doubt in my mind.”

Jason wasn't even sure where his newfound boldness came from, what young man immediately asks an older man, a fellow superhero no doubt, who he just met, to dinner? He often kept his composure during fights, but he'd be lying if his gaze hadn't strayed in between slashes of his sword, seeing the man wet and using his powers, it had taken his breath away. He was gorgeous, when was the last time Jason had seen someone so beautiful? And his new crush had only deepened the moment said man decided to compliment him with no ulterior motives . . . it felt nice. " Walter. " The name drips from his tongue like honey, testing it out, the grip on his helmet just under his arm tightening as he fights back the blush that was still rearing it's scarlet hued head across his cheeks and ears.

What's insane to Jason was that he hadn't expected Walter to take him up on his offer, he was hoping, but he was so used to most people dismissing him that he was a little floored that Walter not only agreed, but wanted a second dinner at another time. A warmth was bubbling in the ranger's tummy, and the soft smile curving on his lips couldn't be well hidden. " Let me cook for you, I can't promise it'll be anything fancy, but it'll be at least relaxing, and you can make it up to me another time. Take me out. " Another bold statement, and while he wanted to be suave and follow the words with some grin and glimmer in his eyes, Jason is once more flown through a loop from Walter's genuine concern.

Jason was the leader of his team, and furthermore, he was the one who was constantly worrying about others. It was very rare for anyone to ask how he was, everyone assumed he was fine, strong, a fighter, a leader. There was something . . . right about hearing Walter ask such a sweet question, and taking a short step forward, he reaches out, laying a hand on the other hero's shoulder. " I'm alright. You're very sweet to ask, Walter. My suit protects me from most injury, being sore just comes with the territory. "

The hand on Walter's shoulder drops, following his side until it falls enough so Jason could interlace their fingers, the softness in his tone returning as he tilts his head to the side, studying the older man's face. " If we're going to get out of here before the cops start cleaning up, I think it's best if you hold onto me. We Rangers have a mighty fast way of getting to where we need to go. " He pauses, this time making another first move, his arms wrapping around the other man lazily and stepping close so their chests bump together, heartbeat on heartbeat. " Trust me. "

#tyrannoranger #( walter x jason 01 )#( verse: path of charity )

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amazzwon · 11 months ago

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MY GO-TO SEVENTEEN FICS

────⟢.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)

╰ Rough

smut, 2k

╰ warm hearts

fluff, 0.5k

╰ his arms

smut, 0.4k

╰ sapiosexual

smut

╰ Good Luck, Fermata Tower

firewatch au, smut, angst, fluff, 13.9k

╰ always only you

14.2k, smut, childhood friends to lovers

╰ Shiver Me Timbers!

pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader, fantasy au, smut, 3.0k

╰ Dancing Queen

smut, fluff, slight angst, disco club owner!choi seungcheol, performer!reader

╰ passenger princess(es)

fluff, established relationship, 0.8k

────⟢.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan

╰ First Makeout Session

suggestive, minors do not interact

╰ my heart is beating for two

fluff, daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan, 1k

╰ Blueberries

smut, yoga instructor!Jeonghan, 2k

╰ Hate is a strong word

smut, angst, fluff, e2l, coworker au, 15k

╰ How many chances are too many chances?

angst, fluff, fwb, f2l, 14k

╰ Titty-Shirt!

pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader, theme park au, coworkers to lovers, e2l, smut, fluff, 13.2k

╰ every summertime

16.1k, 70s au, playing hard to get, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

╰ City lights Series

smut, rocksinger!joshua, neighbours with benefits, angst, fluff, 75.4k

╰ NBA player

smut, 0.8k

╰ cranberry concoctions

bartender!joshua, smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au, 4.6k

╰ leaning on the everlasting arms

childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader, angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au, 10.3k

╰ Curse The Stars

Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader, Smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, pwp, 8.4k

────⟢.ᐟ Moon Junhui (Jun)

╰ Christmas with his family

fluff, comfort, (slight) angst, 0.5k

╰ Do Re Mi

smut, fluff, 4k, wife!reader, husband!jun

────⟢.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)

╰ charity f*ck

smut, virgin!hoshi x experienced!reader, fluff, 12.2k

╰ Leather

smut, 1.5k

╰ driving lessons for dummies

fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au, stoner!hoshi, 16k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)

╰ Somewhere In The Middle

9.7k, romance, smut, best friends, fwb to lovers, hurt, comfort

────⟢.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo

╰ [12:01 AM]

fluff, 0.2k

╰ First Snow

fluff, angst, smut, ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, 33k

╰ no such thing as too perfect

office au, established relationship, fluff, 2k

╰ wonwoo falling in love for the first time

fluff, 0.8k

╰ April Shower

12.0k, romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

╰ Mine, all mine

4k, boyfriend’s dad au, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (DK)

╰ Backstage series

romance, smut, theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits, 43.6k

╰ Teach Me

smut, humor, college au, 2.3k

╰ I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL

college au, brother's best friend au, smut, crack, angst, 15.9k

╰ Patterns

smut, eventual fluff, angst, 10k

────⟢.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)

╰ (Not Titled)

fluff, humour

╰ i should’ve never let you go

exes!au, angst, comfort, 2.5k

╰ Flashing lights

model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu, smut, 30k

╰ the letter

slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l, 26k

────⟢.ᐟ Kim Mingyu

╰ titty obsessed! mingyu

smut

╰ i’ll marry you with paper rings

smut, fluff, angst, 28.3k

╰ kisses to his moles

fluff, 0.8k

╰ Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)

fluff, suggestive, 1k

╰ [10:23 PM]

fluff, 170

────⟢.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan

╰ honey

wedding planner!reader, fluff, smut mdni, theatre performer! seungkwan, childhood crush to lovers, 10.2k.

────⟢.ᐟ Chwe Hansol (Vernon)

╰ Friends with Benefits

fwb setting, suggestive

╰ DO YOU DREAM OF ME?

soulmate au. slight college au , f2l, fluff, some angst. pining, 9.6k

╰ [16:23 PM]

fluff, childhood friends to ?, 0.3k

╰ Birch Trees & Fear Street

smut, fluff, 1.7k

╰ sweet kiss

fluff, strangers ish to lovers

╰ BEAUTIFUL

fluff, strangers to lovers

╰ Music festival

drabble, fluff

╰ operation: hot girl summer

smut, fluff, humor, summer romance au, best friends to lovers, 4k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)

╰ As It Was

Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Romance, Angst, Smut, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, 9.1k

╰ Goodbye, Fourth of July

college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut

╰ Love Guard

Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader, 9.2k, Fluff, E2L (One sided)

╰ distraction, a fatal attraction

strangers to lovers, college au, fluff, 7k

╰ In Case You Didn’t Know

Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst, Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au, 28.8k

796 notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 10 months ago

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sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption.

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted!

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence.

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like.

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron.

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious.

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all.

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband.

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.”

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Are you close with Toji?”

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent.

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!”

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain.

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance.

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch.

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw.

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek.

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!”

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.”

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage.

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former.

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.”

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—”

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!”

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you?

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe.

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens.

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black.

See!

Open your eyes, and see!

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail.

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.

“He is not picking up!”

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now.

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.”

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you.

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji.

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth.

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name.

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked.

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon.

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come.

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond.

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.”

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away.

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

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