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aliyahwritings · 4 days ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

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: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on your phone kept reminding you, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say.

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying.

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken.

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be.

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow.

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?”

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe?

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

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slytherheign · 2 years ago

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YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever.

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark. “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!”

“Uhh… since last week?”

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you.

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again.

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter.

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone.

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered.

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking.

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?”

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels.

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. ��Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing.

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?”

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

4K notes · View notes

whyse7vn · 8 months ago

Text

CARDBOARD BOX -

[ ot7 x reader ]

BTW ☠️😂

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: thinking about when we all lived together and jimin would make jungkook tap dance for food

jk: good times :D

namjoon: but jungkook cant tap dance?

jimin: exactly

namjoon: so you starved jungkook?

jk: no i tapped??

jin: horribly

jk: :(

tae: i liked it

jk: honestly 🥺?

tae: honestly

jk: :D

hobi: why is joon acting like he wasn’t there to witness it???

namjoon: sorry

i just tend to block out the traumatic memories i have with you guys

which is most of them

jin: jungkook was the one dancing for food not you

namjoon: being a witness to that was traumatic

yoongi: it was funny

jk: thank u

yoongi: no

namjoon: moving on

y/n: remember when jungkook would like disappear for 4 hours everyday and come back to the dorms at like 5 am

hobi: OMG YES

jimin: the era where he hated us 😪

yoongi: bring it back

jk: i didn’t hate you guys ☹️

tae: he was just getting his dick wet don’t worry about it

namjoon: he was barley 16?

tae: pussy slayer since 05 😝

namjoon: 05??

yoongi: he was 7 in 05

jin: victim since 05

jimin: jin was like 27 in 05

jin: ??unprovoked

and not fucking true

jimin: as long as you’re alive i’m provoked

y/n: 27 in 05 is crazy

jimin: i’m saying like 😭

hurry up and die maybe?

hobi: bros 31 ☠️

namjoon: ok stop guys

jin: fucking hate all of you

jk: omg it’s raining outside i’m so sad :((

tae: my fault stepped outside and mother nature just couldn’t contain herself

she freaky like that

hobi: paying for ur assassination

jk: what does that even mean

tae: the sky squirting for me bro

jk: oh

that’s nice didn’t know that was possible !!

can you make her stop tho

tae: tell namjoon to step outside and she’ll stop

namjoon: ???

tae: it will be hot and dry as shit if joon steps out ong

jk: namjoon pls step outside

namjoon: kook you need to stop taking tae’s word for things

jk: what

i take no words

i have my own

namjoon: nvm

y/n: life would be so much fun if one of you was a crack addict

jin: ????

yoongi: freak

hobi: real

jimin: namjoon is right here like….

namjoon: leave me ALONE

jk: i’ll be a crack addict for you

tae: i’ll be a better addict

jk: NO YOU WONT

tae: YES I WILL

y/n: shut up

jk: sorry ☺️💕💖

tae: i could so break jungkook’s legs

jk: ☹️

how will i tap?

hobi: you don’t need to tap anymore kook

ur free from that life

y/n: tap by taeyong

jimin: he may be free from tapping in this life but is the tapping life free from him?

yoongi: what

jimin: mentally jungkook is still my little tapping slut

jk: aw man ://

namjoon: did you need to call him a slut??

can we just be nice

jimin: yes i needed to call him a slut

he’s a slut

tae: he was sixteen tapping for you

ur calling a sixteen year old a slut

guys i think jimin is really weird for that actually

jk: me 2

jimin: so?????

you literally said he was fucking at 16 you indirectly called him a slut too

jk: right !!!!

tae: UMM NO???

i called him a pussy slayer actually

and that could mean anything

jk: like what?

tae: shut up jungkook

jk: ok

i’m sorry

it’s still raining

i’m upset

jin: anyways i think yoongi could be nicer

yoongi: ?????

y/n: yoongi’s great

jin: TO YOU

yoongi is actually really really mean and we need to talk about it

jk: i also think yoongi’s great !!

when i was sad about getting old and sick he told me i probably won’t get cancer and most likely die from getting stabbed at 30 on the 12th of december 3pm

namjoon: oh

y/n: yoongi….

yoongi: no cancer !!

jk: NO CANCER ^0^ !!!!!!

tae: yoongi being cold and mysterious will only get you so far in life

jk: yoongi don’t be cold

🔥🔥🔥

here

y/n: jungkook ur so silly

where are you

i want to bite you

jk: 😳

OMW HOME I PROMISE

WON’T BE LONG I SWEAR

jimin: take me back to the days where you had to buy bitches 46 plots of land and a horse to get pussy

i can’t do this being dumb ass hell shit

hobi: maybe ur just ugly idk??

jimin: ????

yo wtf

hobi????????????

hobi: who said that not me whatttt?

jin: that’s why taemin has jimin blocked

jimin: HE DOES NOT HAVE ME BLOCKED

yoongi: woah ok?

jimin: just saying

anyways

jin: ur ugly 😂

jk: beauty is subjective

yoongi: do you even know what that means?

jk: yes ofc ??

maybe…

no 😔

tae: subjective sex

namjoon: stop

tae: SUBJECT SEX

i class i would love to participate in

y/n: is this you telling us you don’t know how to have sex???

tae: NO

this is me telling you i love sex and partake in it often

hobi: stds

jk: i’m confused

why do you want to take a class on it then ???

y/n: right

you wanting to take a sex class implies you know little on the subject of sex actually

tae: SHUT THE HELL UP

jimin: nothing about my beauty is subjective btw

it’s fact

jin: that ur ugly

yoongi: lol

jimin: namjoon tell them i’m not ugly

namjoon: guys he’s not ugly

jin: he’s really ugly

y/n: namjoon tell tae to stop shouting

namjoon: taehyung stop shouting

tae: NO

NAMJOON TELL KOOK AND Y/N I KNOW HOW TO FUCK

namjoon: kook y/n taehyung knows how to fuck

hobi: namjoon i wont lie to you but u lowkey a bitch

jin: right

namjoon: thank you for that hobi and jin i also love you very much

jk: ohmygod joon loosing his mind again

that is NOT what they said

joon come back to us

fight this namjoon fight it

hobi: fighting by bss

yoongi: who fighting?

jimin: joon and his crippling coke addiction

coke winning

namjoon: can we not

tae: i’ll laugh when you overdose

y/n: exo core

namjoon: i just helped you what is ur issue??

jin: do you notice how yoongi appeared again when the word fighting was said????

we NEED to have this man locked up i’m telling you

yoongi: i’ll have you sectioned

jin: WHAT THE FUCK?????

NAMJOON TELL HIM TO TAKE THAT BACK

namjoon: yoongi take that back

please

yoongi: i take it back

jin: good

yoongi: not

jk: yikes jin he got you

yoongi ur really cool

yoongi: shut up

jk: sorry 😆

y/n: stop being mean

yoongi: cant help it :3

tae: who wants to see me split a watermelon with one hand

jk: ME ME

OHMYGOD ME I DO I DO

I WANT TO SEE

PLEASE SHOW ME PLEASE BEOFRE I PASSED OUT PLEASE

PICK ME TAE I WANT TO SEE ME MEMEMEMEMEMEMMEMEME

hobi: tae how is ur financial situation these days

tae: kill yourself

hobi: ok wtf???

i was just asking

tae: jungkook im sorry but no broken watermelon today blame hoseok

jk: hobi what the hell man i was really looking forward to the broken watermelon

y/n: i heard tae filed for bankruptcy

tae: NOT TRUE

jimin: i heard he lives in a cardboard box

tae: SHUT UP I DONT

jk: tae omg……… 😧

is this true

tae: NO OBVIOUSLY NOT

YOU WERE AT MY HOUSE YESTERDAY

AND I ORDERED US FOOD

jk: pls dont shout at me

i’m trying to remember if your house was a cardboard box or not

jimin: (it was)

tae: NAMJOON

namjoon: guys

jimin: ur no fun

y/n: sorry 😔

tae: yeah

you guys better be sorry

stupid idiots

jimin: shut up broke boy

namjoon: jimin please

jimin: whatEVER

tae: namjoon i don’t say this a lot because normally it wouldn’t be true but man i love you

guys i think me and namjoon were married in our past lives

cuz like were so in tune with each other

like he just gets me

i get him

i believe in every life we find each other

like we get married in every single life except this one

namjoon: no offence but in every life i would find you and divorce you if that were true

tae: oh

y/n: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yoongi: lol

jimin: no i see it the crack addict and the broke bitch love story

tae: at least someone gets it

nvm

should of read the whole message first

u guys are just closed minded

im telling you me an namjoon are like super alike someone thought i was him yesterday and he was so real and right for that

jk: i thought you said that guy that called you rm in the park yesterday was a racist not real or right

tae: jungkook

jk: yeah ^0^

tae: stop talking rn

jk: okay😵

hobi: cocaine is like really expensive how would tae and joon work out

tae wont be able to help feed into joons addiction

y/n: why do you know that cocaine is expensive

hobi: i know a lot of things that just happenes to be one of them

jimin: if you think about it when have you ever seen a crackhead be like nah im not gonna have crack today

they make that shit happen no matter what

and i think thats what attracts tae and joon together

like joon will do anything and everything to get his fix and tae would do anything and everything to have a place to sleep so their hardworking nature is what leads them to love

yeah

jin: ok !!!!!!

jimin i think you need a hobby or something

that was…. a lot

yoongi: shut up

jin: WHAT DID I DO???? AM I WRONG OR DID YOU ACTUALLY ENJOY JIMINS MINI FANFIC LIKE?????????

yoongi: i’ll punch you

jin: and i believe that!

shutting up #now

hobi: i wish i was mark lee rn

he probably doing something really canadian as we speak

jk: like what?

hobi: idk being nice

jimin: you called me ugly five minutes ago

you could never be mark lee

hobi: that literally wasn’t me i have no idea what ur talking about sorry i’m actually mark lee rn so i fr don’t know what ur talking about dude sorry dude i have to go on stage and dance with nct 127 now and then i have vocal practice with nct dream right after so i’m sorry dude i like have zero idea what ur talking about like actually like a sticker 2 baddies beatbox

me as mark lee and scene

jk: 10/10 really believable idk mark lee but i really though you were him for a second

y/n: great performance thought mark was here fr almost kissed you passionately on the mouth

yoongi: what

hobi: thank u thank u

you can still kiss me tho haha lol as mark or not idm

y/n: ok omg come here!!!

hobi: FR?????

y/n: no !!!!!!

but i did imagine us kissing like last week for like five seconds

hobi: yesssss 🙌 😝

a win is a win

yoongi: its not a win

she threw up at the thought

y/n: no i didn’t

yoongi: yes you did

you told me

y/n: i DID’NT

stop trying to gaslight me

it wont work

tae: have you imagined me naked

jimin: liked it better when you weren’t talking

tae: i liked it when YOU weren’t talking

jimin: shut the fuck up

jin: how about you both shut the fuck up

jimin: now why are YOU talking again

yoongi beat the shit out of him

yoongi: nah dont want to

the thought of his face isn’t pissing me off anymore

jin: thank you <3

yoongi: i could punch hoseok tho

hobi: no thank you ???

y/n: yoongi has a framed picture of all of us on his bedside table that he hides whenever you all come over in case you find it

he also has each one of our debut photocards in a small little binder in his studio in a little safe

yoongi: not true bye

yoongi left “BTW☠️😂”

y/n added yoongi to “BTW☠️😂”

y/n: very true very real seen them with my very two eyes

yoongi: you wear glasses

that you don’t actually wear

so who knows what u be seeing

that is NOT true

y/n: i wear glasses to READ and you know that

so shut up

guys yoongi would punch none of you because he loves you very much ok? 😍💖💯

tae: yoongi do you kiss our picture goodnight be honest

yoongi: fuck off actually

namjoon: thats very sweet yoongi

we love you too

jin: i DON’T

i fear my life when i’m around yoongi picture by his bed or not

i’m shaking in my boots i’m scared

yoongi: pussy

jin: i’m telling you ever since he broke that poor woozi guys nose i have not looked at him the same

y/n: ok but that was a mistake right yoongi

yoongi: ?

y/n: it was

and besides has yoongi broken your nose?

jin: no but it’s coming

i know it

yoongi: true

jk: i feel safe around yoongi

yoongi: you shouldn’t

jk: because he hasn’t broken my nose

but jimin did punch me once

jimin: dont bring up my past

hobi: if we think about it jimin should be locked up

jungkook you can press charges you know?

jimin: CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT ME AND WHAT I’VE DONE

like we were talking about how yoongi actually love us

lets get back to that

yoongi: jimin should be put behind bars

jimin: yoongi loves us

yoongi: jimin is a bully

jimin: YOONGI LOVES US

tae: i love you back yoongi

yoongi: kill yourself

jimin is a literal bully like actually

jimin: and ur a fake one cuz u love us

jk: jimin you are bully

yoongi: ur right jungkook

you are so right

jimin: jungkook yoongi loves you

that’s why he’s agreeing with you

jk: i love you too yoongi ^0^

yoongi: jungkook jimin is bullying you

has been since you were 16

jk: ohmygod……..

jimin: jungkook yoongi has a photocard of you that he’s probably decorated and everything just cuz he cares so deeply about you

jk: he does????????

namjoon: ok both of you stop

jimin you ARE a bully

and yoongi its ok that you actually like us you should stop pretending you don’t

jimin: I AM NO BULLY

yoongi: i like not one of u 😒

namjoon: yeah ok

jk: GUYS OHMUGOD

tae DOES LIVE IN A CARDBOARD BOX I REMEMBER NOW 🤯🤯😨

tae left “BTW☠️😂”

—

think of this as a flash back/ forward idk of the good happy times ok? ok thank u >_<

sorry for the shit ending i just really like the first part and wanted to post

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

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bea-does-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? (𝐦𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 526

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘈𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰, 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘺, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘥𝘦𝘬𝘶

₊˚✩彡𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀

Aizawa isn’t the type of guy who teases, but at the same time, he’s not the type to get flustered of shy when someone teases him, that being said, whenever you use a pickup line on him or flirt, he thinks it’s extremely cute, he’ll probably chuckle and rolls his eyes, however, he does appreciate your attempts to fluster him

₊˚✩彡𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔

Like I said with Aizawa, he’s not much of a flirt, but if YOU tease him… Oh boy. You see, Bakugou’s a bit of a tsundere and he’ll most likely say something along the lines of “SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I KILL YOU”, but even still, you know damn well he likes it, you could tell by the bright pink on his face

₊˚✩彡𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈

Yea uh, good luck flirting with this guy, he can’t even understand sarcasm most of the time, let alone a pickup line, maybe if you keep it very vague, he’ll kinda understand, like if you go “you look nice today”, then he’ll probably say thanks, but then he’ll say something like “you always look nice”, and boom, that's the spiciest flirt sesh you 2 have ever had

₊˚✩彡 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒

Let’s get one thing clear, this man is a tease, a hundred percent, he’s always flirting, but if you try to tease him, well, get ready, cause ya’ll are gonna be flirting for hours, idk he’s real competitive when it comes to flirting. But even still, he hangs onto every word you say while you’re flirting, because it truly does make him happy (so give this man some love ;-;)

₊˚✩彡𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈

He may not show it often, but this guy is a tsun and you can’t change my mind, but not in the way you think, instead of getting angry when you tease him, he acts like he doesn’t care, but he will think about what you said for the rest of the day, trying DESPERATELY to hide his red face

₊˚✩彡 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈

Dabi is the definition of “tease but can’t take a tease”, well, it depends really, if you tease him he’ll most likely turn the tables around and flutter you, but if it’s a flirty compliment about his appearance then it’s a whole other story, at first he’ll be shocked and just stare at you, then he’ll start to stutter and stumble on his words, hiding his face with his arm so that you don’t see his pink nose, he gets like this because throughout his whole life people had told him he looks scary or ugly, so complimenting his face will not only fluster him, but also make him slightly emotional, if he had the ability to cry, he would probably start to tear up

₊˚✩彡 𝐃𝐄𝐊𝐔

Let’s be real for a minute, he’d probably faint if you teased him, he can barely function when he’s around you, let alone a flirty version of you. He does appreciate it though, he’ll probably say “UHM T-THANK YOU!”, seeing him get so embarrassed is really cute, it’s funny to see someone so strong like him be so shy, but hey, we love our shy broccoli boi

Alright I'm done, time to sleep TwT

#mha #mha x reader #mha hcs #bnha headcannons #todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #hawks x reader #fluff #aizawa x reader #sfw #bakugou x reader #gn reader #bnha #flirting #deku x reader

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sublimetragedychopshop · 2 years ago

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I’m a sucker for pretty yan x monster darling. Like this person is thought to be the PERSONIFICATION of beauty. Nations come to catch a glimpse of them. They most likely have a cult dedicated to them too which would explain why anyone that makes them unhappy is “punished” (humiliated, tortured and cast out). They probably know the power they hold too! Or maybe they don’t!

Beauty! Yan that could fall in love with LITERALLY any one in the WHOLE world. Only for them to skip the whole way home and write in their diary, about their big fat crush on MONSTER! Darling. Hearts and hearts and hearts. Combinations of mixed names that has both of yours together. (They probably had to lurk around a lot to find out your name, people like to call you mean names which took them a while) a full entire chapter of BABY NAMES! Detailed descriptions of their lewdest fantasies, enough to make even a nymph blush. They already seemed to have gone through 20 diaries since they met you. Its okay! They have enough money to buy more, and usually people offer to by their stuff for them.

Monster! Reader who is described, by others as a “big, mean, ugly thing”. Really you were quite good looking for your species (if you said so yourself, and asked the Yan) you are too big to fit inside a normal house, almost 5” feet bigger than the tallest man in the world. Your body is built like a fucking mountain, strength to the GODS. Though people may not like you, your strength does get you a lot of jobs so that you can earn money.

I don’t have enough brain juice to describe how you met this protected beauty, but you got them hooked! Really, it is kind of funny. Most likely monster reader doesn’t even want to associate themselves with them. It only brings trouble. And death. They’ve seen it and don’t wanna be near them. And we’ll as much as pretty! Yan wants to be around you, they know that if they do people might harm you (they already get sad and depressed if you get hurt on the job) so they have to stalk you from a yard away. Kinda hard when the whole town had their eyes on you. I can imagine the only way they would stalk you is if you live in a house in your own little isolated part of the woods. They know the trail by heart and even come inside when your away. They caress your trinkets and self made goods, admire every single one of your decorations, lay on your oversized bed that is the biggest and comfiest thing they’ve felt and seen. Your scent clouding their senses that they can’t help but masturbate on your bed. It tips them over the edge. And they don’t even try to hide it. Thinking that you don’t even notice it (you do, your senses higher than a humans) and just go on with their little role play in their head. Thinking to themselves as if they were your lovely little spouse that waits home for you everyday. They clean and wash all your clothes (they want to cook but the sizes of the ingredients are way too big for their small arms).

Really they are the perfect spouse for you! Being raised to perfection they would be the perfect spouse for anyone! Too bad they’ll get rid of anyone who gets in the way of their happily ever after…

(I might edit or add more later honestly I’ve just been wanting to post this for a while)

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere shitpost #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere ramblings #yandere scenarios #yande.re #monster reader x human yandere #monster reader #yandere teratophilia???#I just really like monsters

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azulsluver · 1 year ago

Note

I’m boutta hop on the anons submission on the bully AU, when the MC disappears for two weeks and come backs, they’re all like “yeah, I decide to leave for a bit and spend time with my boyfriend at Royal Sword academy. Sorry for the absence, I couldn’t deny his needs.’’ Just for funnies, just to mess with them for a bit. If they go low, MC goes lower.

Will this damage them for life? No, but will it leave a small burn at least? Yes, at least for a few. Who knows, maybe some will try to get back at you for doing that 🥰

I can definitely see Idia putting a tractor in your phone just in case you try to take off location (maybe he’ll put a few cameras in RSA) Ace, Ruggie, Deuce riddle, Sebek, Kalim calling you a whore for being with another man (They’re heartbroken and sobbing) Malleus, Jamil, Azul, Jack are now uptight abt where you are going, Vil body slamming you for uttering another man’s existence around his god-complex presence, Floyd threatening to break your legs, etc, the list is endless ^ - ^

Jade, Lilia, maybe Leona, maybe Rook, Trey, and cater will purposely hook up with other people right in front of you while simultaneously insulting you (this all fun and games)

escaping will not be so easy, especially with all the eyes watching your every step. Give a small indication that you are gonna try to leave again and they will pounce.

Also, this bring up the other topic abt bully AU, everyone at NRC is a jackass but what about Che’nya and Neige? I’d like to imagine there just as bad, maybe even worse but they deny those accusations bc they’re supposed to be the “handsome knights that save the princess from the ugly monsters.✨’’ what makes it worse tho compared to NRC is everyone believes them, even the Staff. I mean, why shouldn’t they trust the sweetest most beautiful model in the world and a friendly extroverted cat!

just gonna...ramble with you on this yummy take..

tw. bully!characters, yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, stalking, mild violence, slut shaming, isolation, stockholm syndrome(?).

The energy and guts you must have to pull a petty move by disappearing just to hang out with snotty white uniformed men. It hurts their ego so badly killing you may or may have been an accident.

Sometimes they would have to pull some extreme measures. Say if you left the campus with your phone you’ll be easily tracked down. Or maybe someone from the town saw you and ratted you out. What if you didn’t take your phone?; Idia had already placed a microchip inside your flesh. So there’s a possible chance he can hear every conversation you’re having with whoever you’re talking. Talk about controlling your life to a whole new level.

Sass talking is prohibited, but some love it because it gives them a reason to be violent with you. You have no self respect so why are you prancing and buttering up to these white knights? It’s not a fairy tail that five year old you would dream about, so prepared for any misdeeds. And misdeeds they were right.

You won’t be in a good headspace after fleeing to RSA. It’s all made up in your head that these people are good and can help you get away. But their kind smiles don’t reassure you. How tight their grips on your hands and shoulders are as they beg you to stay in RSA. Their behavior is all too similar to how they treated it, making you miss them. Miss that feeling of sadness being washed by their cruel love. Was it even love?

You’ll come crawling back to them in shame, because you couldn’t face Neige’s fake persona, reminding you too much of Vil. It lacked the genuine charm. Or how Goldy used you for things to get out of, Ace and Deuce were already a handful and it made your head explode. Everything will remind you of them, their hands and words were first to corrupt your own.

Think again about leaving, because you won’t anytime soon. After everyone has come to a conclusion that you need a babysitter 24/7….even during night hours. Until they see improvement will they let the freedom of “peace”. Rare but who are you to complain.

Now Malleus and Kalim are going to be clingier than ever, you’ve unlocked a sense of fear—they don’t wish to be abandoned by you, or the thought of you doing so in general. It’s humiliating and not their style, makes them lack control. Luckily they’re really good at deceiving people, but you’re not off the hook for Sebek. All types of names are thrown at you. Dirty, dirty, filthy you. His yelling is enough to make you cry because you’re convinced it’s true! You are dirty!

Jade and Trey are the first to blow a towel over your form, give you a sense of comfort until it’s ripped away. Can’t you how much they love this person? It can be you if you’ve behaved, but you want to wag your tail like a dog and catch a bone with those RSA students. They’ll bring it up every time you argue with them. They’ve been nothing but loyal and doing what’s best for you. So don’t come crying when another person skimpily leaves their room all satisfied.

Do this type of attic with them and it’s over. Complete isolation. No talking to anyone. Hell you’re gonna be trapped in a cell or room for months and months. Only ever seeing them. Just them entering to give you breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Leaving without a word. Until you fully understand that speaking with any other person can be the downfall of your social life.

More rambles about visiting RSA tho xP

Never ever mention Neige in front of Vil, that’s like a death wish and so so petty move. It hits all the spots including his insecurities and overthinking. He’s done everything to be perfect and you still went to see that twerp!! The audacity!! Swear you’ll be leaving his room all bruised and tired, his magic healing any open wounds but leaving the flesh to swell under your skin. You look awful, ugly even. Epel and Rook will gladly bring you back to Vil if they catch you with Neige or the dwarfs.

Going anywhere under their supervision is impossible, Rook placing his unique magic on you so he knows whether you were lying or not.

My gosh Floyd threatening to break your legs is so silly because he does it on a daily. Stop angering him and maybe it wouldn’t happen (eyeroll emoji..). Even Jamil will break your legs on command, usually he’ll do it when sees fit. Bad dogs get left outside to think about what they’ve done, and yes, they did leave you outside before when it was storming to teach you a lesson.

Thinking bout Azul spewing ink from his lips when angered or stressed out. You’re giving him even whiter hair than he has. Too many people at RSA are pure evil. He doesn’t care about you yet you’re the main problem on why any RSA student can just barge in and ruin everyone’s career. He may be over exaggerating but it’s for a good reason. Azul has made some uh, clients in RSA. He doesn’t wanna ruin it because you can’t seem to keep your emotions in checked, and your legs closed…(omg he didn’t say that stoppp)

Arf arf Leona in his cheating era. What am I saying you guys aren’t even official. No one is. But they still like the thought that you’re basically NRC property until graduation. Even after graduation you’ll be passed like a old toy, forced to be fixed and brought anew until it’s time to switch. Leona is one of the closest people you can go to for comfort, not the best option but not the worst. The reason it’s not the best is his addiction to getting you through jealously. Once Leona understands you have fallen victim to Stockholm syndrome does he bring randoms into his bed. He gives a show of softened you’ll never revive until he’s certain to claim you. But it’ll never happen. Not ever with you.

Lawd did this whole petty stuff start all of this? Yes it did now enjoyz more content.

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nmakii · 4 months ago

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ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY?

— watching your life falling into catastrophe before your eyes. all because of a boy, because of oikawa tooru.

— fem!reader, oikawa lowk just plot device, vent draft 🤨, its me im reader, nonfiction 🤣, reader highk whipped

a/n: dawg… just had liek the WORST day at school tfff my whole lunch table dropped me can’t believe i wasted ingredients on a bitch that cant even return my chinese textbook 😒

oikawa tooru has a lot of fans. even that might be an understatement. but, it’s true nonetheless. even you’ve fallen for that cheeky loser’s spell.

in your defense, there are many things to love about him; how funny he is, how much he cares, how devoted he is, not to even mention his looks.

so, yes, you may have fallen for him. a lot of girls have.

“but it’s different this time. we have the chemistry. if he wasn’t so busy with training, if i’d be able to run into him again and hang out with him, then i’m sure he’d feel the same way.” you tell your friends over lunch. one of them scoffs. “suuuure, keep telling yourself that. i watched that latest game he played in, there were at least 10 other girls who were thinking the same thing.”

“you don’t get it, you just don’t get it! we have so many mutual friends, it’s almost as if we were meant to meet, y’know?” you explain, sounding almost desperate as your heart stirs thinking about him.

and, among the many exploits you did to impress him, you started doing volleyball. “s/o-chann! what are you doing here?” oikawa walks over to you, new kneepads in hand. “oh— hey! just buying some things.” you explain to him, handing the cashier some money as they wrap up your new volleyball. “what about you?”

“ahh, just getting some new gear since mine is getting pretty old… i never knew you did volleyball!” he notices things quickly. “well, yeah… i just have a lot on my plate, so i don’t do it as often anymore.” you tell him. “really noww? well, we should play together, okay?” he offers, a competitive edge in his voice.

oh my god. this is your chance to hang out with him. sure, this was what you were hoping for, but not right now… what if you fail to serve so miserably that he ends up laughing at you? but, again, it’s hanging out with him!

“sure! i’m down to play!” you quickly recover from your anxious thoughts. “erm— while we’re both here, you wanna hang out for a while?” you ask, words falling out of your lips without your own accord. “aww, no can dooo… i’m here with iwa-chan, and he’s gonna get mad at me if i bring a girl back with meee…” he pouts. “next time though! i won’t go easy on you!” he laughs before waving you goodbye.

next time.

that meant he wanted to see you. right?

“ughhh, enough about oikawaaaaa… he’s not even that cute, you’re far too good for him.” your friend frowns. you do talk about him too much, but what’s there not to love? all that could spill from your mouth were words of love for him. she was probably sick of it, your whole class was probably sick of it. so many people knew of your crush on him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he knew and decided to just ignore it.

you couldn’t help it, you just loved him so much.

but, nothing ever came out of it.

he continued with his life, and you moved on with your’s.

soon enough, all the love in your heart for him was drained from his lack of reciprocation. you couldn’t blame him, he has so many fans, it wouldn’t be fair to pay attention to just one.

but still, even if he never got to be your boyfriend, you still got a best friend.

“agh!! s/o-chan, don’t, i look ugly right nowww!” oikawa whines as he runs away from your phone camera, nimbly maneuvering himself through the convenience store’s thin aisles. “come back ‘kawa!” you catch up to him, pulling on his arm so he couldn’t run away and snapping a blurry photo of his face.

“noo, s/o-chan, don’t post it!!” oikawa shakes his head in distress, trying to grab your phone. “too late!” you laugh, hitting post on your new story, oikawa tagged. oikawa falls on top of your body, trying to grab your phone. “delete!” he demands, trying to reach for the phone you held up in the air while keeping you stuck on the ground.

you laugh at his feeble attempts, politely waving hello to one of your classmates walking into the store. “get up!! you’re so embarrassing, ‘kawa!” you try to push him off.

it was a good day, a really good day.

even without that romantic chemistry, there was definitely something between you two. and, everyone could feel it; the way conversation just flowed so naturally between you two when you were simply being yourselves, it was like breathing after drowning for so long.

it was like laughing for the first time. you’ve never gasped for air so much as you did when you were with him.

just friends now, nothing more. and, that’s okay.

the next day, you’d walked into school, still happy from the fun you had after school yesterday. when you overheard someone’s conversation.

‘you know, s/o from class 3-3 is lowkey… so loud. all she talks about is boys. it’s like she thinks she’s someone special.’ you hear someone snicker.

‘her hair is so bad… it’s like… why would she go out looking like that?’ you hear from the long haired brunette in front of you, turning her head to look at you not so subtly.

‘she thinks she’s so funny… she needs to learn when to shut up…’

where did all this come from?

you frown as you try to get along with your day. it’s still alright though, even if most of the school population is against you, you still have your friends.

“s/o, we took a vote and most of us don’t want to eat lunch with you anymore.” your friend tells you, if you can still even call her your friend. the shock can barely even register before you nod. “oh. alright then.” you take your things to eat on one of the benches at school.

“ah! s/o-chan, what are you doing hereee?” oikawa sees you, staring daggers into the gardens. “huh? oh, i…it’s nothing…” you mumble. “don’t you have your own lunch table? why’re you here all aloneeee?” he asks.

and that’s when it finally sank in.

“i just wanted a change of scenery today, i’m okay.” you assure him, using all your willpower to hide the tears that threaten to fall out. oikawa frowns, feeling as if there’s something else, but decides not to pursue it. “hmm, okayyyy… well, if that’s all, i guess there’s no problem. i’m gonna go eat now then!” oikawa waves goodbye, on his way to iwaizumi’s table.

and when he’s finally gone, is when you finally let all the tears fall. this is such a stupid thing to cry about… being kicked out of a lunch table? there are so many other problems you could cry about…

you go to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, eyes all puffy from crying. when you get back to your classroom, you see two of your friends, or… ex-friends. it’s just for a split second, but they run out the other side of the classroom, trying to avoid you.

what was all this even for? because of being friends with a boy you liked? you never even dated, so what harm was done?

you’re so many things; smart, athletic, quite awfully pretty as well. you have your own interests, hobbies, and likes. why do you have to be reduced to liking oikawa? sure, you did talk about him an awful lot, but never recently.

“why did everything go wrong?

all because i liked a boy?”

#haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu angst #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa fluff #oikawa x y/n #oikawa torū #oikawa toru #toru oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa x reader

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lovifie · 10 months ago

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Her Royal Highness Pt.3

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

You should feel bad about your father's passing. Just a couple of days ago you stab yourself trying to save him, but now? Now you are drinking beer with Farah in the middle of the town surrounded by hundreds of people who are celebrating that your father is dead. So maybe it is not the better place to mourn him.

Ever since your mother passed he never really cared for you, relying on the maids and Laswell to raise you, the governess to train you to be a princess and Farah to teach you what a friend is.

But still, you should feel bad he got killed.

He got killed by unknown people he let inside his house by the pretext of marrying you to one of them. And he got poisoned because he trusted them to drink what they got him. And those people got there because your father offered your hand in marriage without asking you before.

But still, you should feel bad he got killed.

But the music makes you want to dance, so you dance.

You dance with Farah, the kind girl working behind the bar who gave you beer, his kind father, and everyone who seems kind enough.

The money you brought with you is still safely kept in your pocket because when you got here you realized they were not even charging for the drinks or the food or anything, the celebration being too big to care about the benefits.

So you take advantage of it and drink and eat and dance as much as you can without thinking. Being the first time you have ever had this much fun, being way too young to enjoy the last party you were ever invited to. Not that you are invited to this one, but still, nobody seems to mind.

But your inexperience in life ends up showing its ugly face when you realise that you have not seen Farah in who knows how long. And suddenly the music is too loud, the people are too close and you are not drunk enough to enjoy.

You try to scream Farah’s name in hopes she will hear you and come to your rescue, but of course, she can’t hear you.

People next to you start to look at you funny, surprised to hear somebody shrieking suddenly and that's when you remember that you are not supposed to be here. Let alone being on your own, without protection surrounded by people celebrating your dead father.

You try to move back to where you last saw Farah, feeling too exposed to everybody and trying not to panic. You see the girl you danced with first and your hopes go up thinking you may find Farah close to her, but those hopes get crushed when an arm snakes around your waist pulling you back.

You ignore the pain in your wound and fight to keep walking against the mysterious person’s arm, but it is futile and soon you are being moved and turn to face the person.

A familiar pair of blue eyes met you and you see the brown furrow when they noticed your distressed expression.

“Hey, what's wrong, lass?” Soap says looking at you without moving his arm around your middle. You sigh in relaxation and jump in his arms hugging in relief of feeling safe. “Easy, easy. What’re ye doin’ here? You alone?”

You quickly shake your head looking up at him. “I’m with Farah but I got away and I cannot find her!”

“Okay, okay. Let me find Gaz, then we look for yer friend, sounds good?” He asks holding your face with both his hands indulging your whole skull. You nod as much as you can and feel his shoulder shake as you hear a familiar voice over the sound.

“You found yourself a little something to play with, Soap?” Kyle asks laughing loudly but quickly changes expression to one of confusion and concern. Soap smirks looking at Kyle and lets go of your face and goes back to keeping a hand on your back. Kyle looks for a second at Soap and looks back at you before screaming. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I don't know! You scream back at Kyle feeling tears pricking at your eyes. “I wanted to see the party but got lost!” You say wailing at the end grabbing Soap's arm.

“Okey, okey. Calm yourself.” Says Soaps laughing while Kyle starts to run his hands through his hair. “Ye too, Gaz!”

“Calm down?!” Kyle asks and gets closer to Soap so he doesn't have to talk as loud. “The fucking princess is having a fucking mental breakdown in the middle of the town, Soap.”

“Yeah, and nobody gives a shit.” Soap answers pointing around to illustrate that the people around are not paying attention while he tries to comfort you by caressing your back. “And she is not having a mental breakdown, she is drunk, aren't ye, love?”

They both look at your face as you dry your tears with the back of your hand and shake your head. “I’m not drunk…” Soap raises an eyebrow at you. “Just a little.” You say hiccuping half for crying and half for the alcohol.

“Okay, that's okay. Everything is fine.” Kyle says, and you don't know if he is saying it to you or himself. “We are going to take you back to the castle.” He says and you quickly shake your head. “Why not?”

“I need to find Farah, I came with her.” You say looking around and Soap tenses his arm taking you closer to him to make sure you don't run away.

“Fine, let's look for her together, hm?” Soap says smiling. “But no more cryin’. How does Farah look?”

You give them a quick description of her and start to look around for her. Everyone around is still dancing, pushing each other (you remain untouched by Soap’s arm still around your middle), but still you hear a faint voice calling your name. You twist your head in the direction and find her across the river of people.

“Farah!” You scream back once you see her and make a run for it getting off Soap’s grab. You make your way through the people and once you are close enough you jump into Farah's arm.

“You idiot!” She says lovingly as she hugs you back. “I was worried sick, I was already thinking how I was going to have to tell everyone you have been kidnapped.”

Kyle and Soap make their way to the both of you eventually and you hear Soap's voice “Hey, don't run away like that, ye sneaky shit.” He says and tries to grab your arm but Farah pulls you quickly putting herself in between you and the knights. “Don't touch her! Who the fuck are you?!”

Soap puts his hands up looking at Farah with an amused expression on his face. “No, wait, Farah. They are my…” Your what? “They are the prince’s knights.” You correct yourself quickly looking at her

“...oh. OH.” She says looking from you to them. “Oh, that explains the…” She motions to her hands moving them up and down. “The being built like that.”

“Well, thank you.” Says Soap smirking at her, being interrupted by a slap to the shoulder by Kyle. “What was that for?”

“We need to take the drunk princess back to the castle, remember?” He ask looking a bit exasperated.

“But I don't want to go back!” You reply, feeling more at ease now that Farah is next to you. “I wanna keep dancing!”

“And I want to keep my head connected to my body.” Says Kyle bending down to be face to face with you with a mocking expression on his face.

“Yeah, but who's the monarch and who's the knight?” You reply, putting your fists on your waist and raising your chin.

A beat of silence goes between the four of you before Soap barks a laugh holding back Kyle as he mumbles. “Listen up, you little brat.”

“Easy, easy, Gaz.” Says Soap still laughing loudly. “How about… we keep on the party for a bit more and then we take ye back, ye go to yer room and we act as if this night never happened?” He said stretching his hand to you.

You shake his hand quickly and say: “Was already planning on it.” You smile widely at him and turn back to Farah pulling her hand. “Dance with me!”

—————————————————————

“Where is fucking Pumpkin?” You say slurring walking first, followed by Kyle.

“Focus, we are looking for your horse.” He says, just as hammered as you.

Farah and you got to the party by horse, and the stable was almost empty when you got there. Now, hours later and with many more horses, finding any of the two was quite harder.

“Pumpkin is the horse.” You say looking at him. “White horse, grey crine, brown eyes, tall.”

“Why is the white horse called pumpkin?” He asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“Because I was four when I named him and haven't seen a pumpkin before.” You answer chuckling drunkenly until you see the horse and run to it.

You called for Farah and Soap who were also looking for them and once you are all reunited you undo the knots keeping the horses still.

“How did you two get here? Didn't bring any horses?” Farah asks as the group begins to walk.

“We came down with the church workers, and we stayed here.” Soap answers walking along. “Gaz and I will walk up, you two get going.”

“Nonsense, get up on the horse.” You say standing next to the horse and trying to get your feet on stirrup but feeling unsure of your balance. You look up at Kyle and pull softly off his sleeve. “Can you help me please?”

He looks down at you smiling shaking his head and puts his hands on your waist hoisting you up the horse with ease.

Farah gets up her horse as well and helps Soap to sit behind her. You look at Kyle and motion him with your head to get up as well.

Once he is sitting behind you, he puts his hands again on your waist and pulls you against him pressing his chest with your back. His strong arms around your sides and his thighs pressed against yours make it hard to breathe for a second, obviously not being used to being close to men all your life.

You hold the reins of the horse trying to think with your brain and not your body, and look at Farah and Ghost to see if they are ready. You notice them exchanging a look with a tiny smile on their faces and you spur on the horse to start making your way up the castle.

“Why does Soap call you Gaz?” You ask after a while to Kyle who’s resting his chin on top of your head with his eyes closed.

“´s my surname. Garrick shorted.” He answers without opening his eyes.

“And why are you called Soap? What's your real name?” You ask pointing at him.

“Name’s Johnny. Soap’s the nickname, easier to show than to explain.” He says smiling. “Ye’ll see eventually.”

You nod your head as if that excuse of an explanation made any sense and look at Farah who is also looking at you.

“Wanna race?” You ask grinning mischievously and instead of answering she directly spurs on the horse starting to run.

You make your way to the castle on record time, making it just a couple of seconds before Farah and Soap. “You are crazy!” Kyle exclaims behind you still holding tight to you to prevent him from falling off the horse.

Farah and Soap jump off the horse laughing when she arrives. Farah goes to put the horse away on the stable and Soap walks to you to help you down. He puts his hands around your waist to hoist you down the horse while you put your hands on his shoulder.

Kyle gets done beside you and hands the horse’s reins to Farah. “Now, to bed.” He tells you. “Before anyone realizes you were gone.”

“Don't worry, Gazzy.” You say patting his shoulder. “No one will know.”

You wave goodbye to Farah and make your way inside the castle with both the knights behind you.

——————————————————————

“Princess.” A whisper next to you appears. “Princess.” And a hand on your shoulder wakes you up. “Princess, wake up. You already missed breakfast, Laswell said you need to eat nicely so the wound heals faster.”

Finally, you open your eyes and look around, coming face to face with Allisa, who looks at you worried.

“Are you okay, your majesty? I knocked this morning but you didn't answer, sorry for coming into your room like this but I got worried.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, don't worry.” You get up slowly, feeling your vision blur a bit because of the movement and you finally stand up.

Allisa helps you get dressed, tying the sage colour corset at the back over the pale green dress. It is made of a silk-like material, it has long sleeves that widen at your hands and it reaches almost the floor, just short enough so it doesn't drag.

You take your time to brush your hair, making sure there isn't any knot left and use a silver barrette decorated with flowers to tie some of your hair in the back to keep it out of your face.

Once satisfied, you make your way to the dining room. The Sun Room being used only for breakfast. By the time you enter, the four men that have seized the palace, are already seated.

“Good afternoon, Princess. It looks like you had trouble sleeping last night.” The King says smiling behind his cup once you make eye contact with him.

“Good afternoon, your majesty. First night as an orphan kept me awake.” You answer looking back with a fake smile. The resentment towards the king is still too latent to avoid confrontation.

“Well, I think you are already grown enough to not be called an orphan. You are getting married soon after all.” The king answers.

Cough

First bite in the day, and you are already choking. The breath intake you took as a surprise for the marriage news made the bite go down too soon.

“Married soon? How soon?” You managed to ask between coughs.

“As soon as all the preparatives are ready.” He answers.

Soap presents a glass of water in front of you, which you gladly take to try and finally get the food down.

“Do I not get a say in any of it?” You ask the king once you manage.

He keeps eating, without breaking eye contact with you. You almost ask again when he says: “You can choose your dress.”

…

“Excuse me?” You ask furrowing your eyebrows. “I did not mean about the preparatives. I mean about the whole… thing.” You say moving your hands around signaling your surroundings. “I have already accepted that there is no way I'm getting out of this, but I still held hope that maybe there would be room for discussion about some things.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” He says smirking and a snort scapes his nose.

This is just a joke for him, you just got your life ruined, and the cause of it is laughing at you.

“That's not fair!” You say standing up suddenly, causing some of the dishes to clink around startling both of the knights.

“No one said it was. Life is not fair.” The king answered going back to eat.

“Don't say that as if it was not you the one that is making it unfair. You are just actively choosing to make it worse!” You scream. The indifference with which he looks at you makes you feel like you are a little kid asking for dessert and not a woman asking for basic human rights.

“Calm down, kid. Sit down, eat, go to your room and calm down. You want me to talk to you like an adult, behave like one.” He says as he finishes his plate and stands up. He walks up to you, and when he is face to face with you (well, your face to his chest) he puts both hands on your shoulder and pushes you down to sit you down. He bends so he is levelled to your ear and says: “And stop acting like a brat.”

You remain seated, with your hands on the table and wait until you hear the door close; signalling that he left the room and you wipe your head to look at Soap.

“Am not a brat!” You say crossing your arms.

“You act like one.” Says Gaz sitting opposite to Soap. “Why are you always fighting? Why can't we have a nice lunch?”

“Well, I’m sorry for interrupting your eating with my will to live” You answer Gaz trying to lighten the mood when a deep voice interrupts you.

“Now you want to live?” The Prince, who is sitting next to Gaz speaks up for the first time since you entered. “You know, getting married to a stranger was not on my list either.”

He stands up as well and follows his father out of the room. Before you can manage to say anything back, he is gone.

You look back to the knights that stay seated looking at you with amused expressions on their faces.

“You find it hilarious don't you?” You ask them both crossing your arms again while huffing, exhausted with the conversation even though you barely exchanged a couple of words.

“It definitively is better than before, more entertained that's for sure.” Says Kyle chuckling while he leans back on his chair.

“I know I have been pulling at the king’s nerves, and I’m going to work on that. There is just something on me that makes me want to hit him whenever he opens his mouth.” You say grabbing the fork to make a show of your emotion, and then you put it back down. “But… I’ll work on it. Get him to like me, hell, the two of you are already enamoured of me.”

“Okay, okay. hold on.” Says Soap laughing. “First o’ all, trust me the King an’ the Prince will be a hundred times worse than us. An’ secon’, who says we are enamoured of ye?”

“Well, you are still sitting with me, aren't you?” You say trying to look secure on yourself, but you know they can see right through your fear of having them all as enemies. They exchange a look between them, Soap shakes his head smiling and you take it as a win. “But really, how can I do it? I want them to take me into account.”

“Hm… ye can start by being a bit nicer to them.” Soaps begins to say.

“Take some interest in the kingdom affairs, you want to be treated as the next queen you have to work as the next Queen.” Kyle continues.

“Show them, they can trust you. That you are more of an asset than a liability.” Soap concludes.

You nod your head taking in all the information and begin to form a plan in your head. As soon as you finish your lunch, you leave the room and go to the King bed chambers.

You knock on the door and enter when you hear a “C’min” from inside. When you enter, the King is sitting at his desk taking take of some documents and you walk up until you are right in front of him, only with the desk in the middle.

“I wanted to apologise.” You admit, swallowing every bit of pride in yourself. “I should have screamed at you or spoken to you the way I did, and I will make sure it doesn't happen again.”

He nods at your words, taking a puff of his pipe and says: “Very well, seems you are not as spoiled as I was fearing. Everything is alright, child, I accept your apologies, you can leave”

You still think for a second, maybe too short before you speak again. “I would still like to be taken more seriously. I know I have not been on my best behaviour, but as the soon-to-be Queen I know there are duties that I would be required to do and I want to prove that I will be able to do them perfectly fine.”

The king looks at you from his chair, with something close to amusement in his eyes and nods. “Fine, you want Queen duties? Get ready, then. We are leaving tomorrow, I was going to let you stay while we visited the villages close by to announce the wedding, but since you are so willing to work, you will come with us. I’ll make a lot more sense as well, so, everyone wins. Even Simon, I’m sure he will be delighted to hear he has to share the carriage with you.”

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maaikeatthefullmoon · 10 months ago

Text

Someone asked about places where they could find my creative works & how I make a living.

I’ve been a self-employed artist since 2017. The current economic climate is making that *very* difficult and I may well be giving up my beautiful business soon, but for now, I’m still clinging on by my fingernails. I’ve survived a lot longer than many of my colleagues and I’ve been VERY grateful and fortunate. (Yes, my profile photo is actually me, very cold, in my freezing workshop, in my ok-to-get-covered-in-paint-ugly-clothes 😂)

You can find me/support me here:

Etsy: I have *two* Etsy shops. I make (currently exclusively Good Omens) fan-based clothing, bags, and cushion covers at FullMoonFandom. and I make fan art and children's home decor, all hand painted on high quality medite wood at Lioncub Creations. This shop has been my main business for the past 8+ years and is my bread & butter. It's been hit HARD by the cost of living crisis.

Ko-fi: If you enjoy my writing, or just generally take pity on me, I'd think you were bloody amazing if you could please buy me a coffee (although I'll actually spend it on bills...sorry). No pressure, though, I know money's tight.

AO3: I write Good Omens fanfic under the username imposterssyndrome, I’ve been writing since November after my trauma therapist recommended it and it’s been the best thing I’ve ever done (especially after my mother told 8yo me that my writing was shit and I literally never wrote another piece of fiction until age 40). I skew angsty, love historical stuff and researching stuff. Did I mention Here Be Angst?

Wavelengths & Frequencies - I'm writing this wonderfully fun enemies-to-lovers human AU with the ineffable @shadesofecclescakes. This is a DJ AU and bloody hell does it ever help that she's a professional DJ herself, because I would have given up in the first chapter otherwise. This longfic will be funny, VERY piney, a teensy-tiny bit angsty (but not too much), smutty, and just generally a whole lot of fun. And it's got footnotes! And newspaper articles! And other stuff which I won't spoiler yet!. Rated E (and P for Piney-As-Fuck). WIP, published every Monday, due to be completed by Feb.

Free - a human AU, which begins with them meeting in an acute mental health ward, where they have both recently been admitted. Initially distrustful of one another, they slowly realise how much they have in common. It is VITAL to read the content warnings as there are many mental health themes. Rated E. Now complete.

Epistolary Series - Aziraphale's diaries, read by Crowley, a romp through history, the series includes an Aziraphale POV and more, rated E, currently made of 3 completed works.

Ineffable Inspirations Series - Individual oneshots, all based on songs. Currently 2 stories, based on Fiona Apple’s Shadowboxer (set in 1941) & Finger Eleven’s Paralyzer (set in 2021)

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phoenixisobsessed · 3 months ago

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sending another screamer your way because i think it's hilarious how many you've got..#98 as Shattered Glass Starscream

Heeurgh…. (Original post: PINNED)

So you think it’s funny? How many Starscreams I’ve accumulated over the course of this project? YOU THINK IT IS FUNNY TO RIDICULE ME LIKE THIS???? (Joking guys I’m not mad about this I think it is equally as funny as you do.)

Anyway, you may ask, Phoenix, why the hell is he so ugly? Why is he so uneven and messy? Simple answer. As payback of having done so many Starscreams, and the fact I kinda just wanna strangle him like a plushie sometimes, I wanted him to look like his spark has just been transported into the body of a cat after he has spent 3 million vorns on the battlefield (no breaks) and he now has to comprehend his new situation and live with the PTSD that he may never return to his fellow Decepticons and know if they are alive or died at his absence. :3 I want to punch him into a ditch. Love Starscream.

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homunculus-argument · 1 year ago

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Why do you constantly describe yourself like you’re the grossest, weirdest looking human being on the planet?

You’re always (very nonchalantly) talking about how ugly you are and… I’ve never seen your face ofc but I highly doubt you’re as weird looking as you think you are. I’m a bit concerned for you.

When my self-esteem was at its lowest I was CONVINCED that I looked absolutely awful. I felt that my features were weird and uneven. That I looked like someone who can’t draw tried to draw a person rather than an actual person. But now that I’ve gotten older and had therapy and my self-esteem isn’t so low anymore, I realize that I look normal. Perfectly normal. I may not be the most attractive person but I’m definitely not ugly and my face definitely isn’t mangled and gross. It’s just a regular face. But a few years ago, I absolutely swore that it wasn’t. It’s as if my mental state had been warping my vision.

So when you constantly talk about how ugly you are I can’t help but feel a little skeptical. You’re a human being, not a goblin. But you definitely describe yourself as if you look like a goblin. I’m willing to bet that you don’t.

I'm actually much happier now with how I look than I was when I was younger and tried so hard to be pretty. I remember being 21 and legit crying because I was so convinced that I'm too old to find anyone again and too ugly that anyone would settle for me. When I was in my Repression Phase, I could not stand wearing jeans because those are Men's Clothes and I was so convinced that I have to perform some sort of absolute over-the-top hyperfeminine presentation to be acceptable. I'm afab and looked up trans womens' passing advice because I was so sure that I'm not feminine enough.

I don't look anything like that these days, and I don't feel like that either. My life is completely different, I have friends who adore me and a partner who loves me, and I'm fine with the way I look. Over the past year I went from wearing understated grey sweaters and the plainest clothes possible into wearing skinny jeans, dyed hair and getting three facial piercings because I thought it would just be insanely funny to have a full-blown midlife crisis emo phase about turning 30. I look cringe on purpose for fun.

There's a world of difference between thinking "I am an ugly and wretched little creature and there's nothing I can do to make it stop", and "I am an ugly and wretched little creature and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

Text

sex therapy :: 19. open up

chapter tags/warnings: dad! toji. angsty! megumi. strong language. classism. infidelity. manipulative undertones. naoya sucks ass.

word count: 3.6k

notes: thank you for waiting for this update! i was taking exams for some work-related licenses and started my big girl recently. i've also added more chapters to this series because i underestimated when i first planned out the fic. likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. enjoy! 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.

“Can...we talk?”

At first, Toji blinked.

Naturally, he wasn’t sure how to react to such a situation: his client, who he had assumed avoided him for weeks, now standing at his apartment door? This was new.

He didn’t quite understand how or why you ended up here at this hour, but he forced a worried smile. “Yeah, of course, we can talk.”

When you first tried to speak, your voice only came out as a hoarse croak. So you had to clear your throat, and you forced words to come out again.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to eke out.

“Sorry?” Toji raised a brow in surprise. “For what?”

Hesitating, you bit gently at your inner cheek. “If I tell you, can you please promise me you won’t get mad? Or judge me? I’m just...looking for someone to talk to, and I really, really need you to promise me.”

In hindsight, that was a stupid question because you both knew that listening was his job, his profession, his field of expertise. Even with the minimal information Toji had gathered in these few seconds, he probably began piecing together your story on his own already. He was good like that—that was what made him your therapist, so there was no need to sugarcoat anything when he already read right through you.

Still, Toji eased you with a sturdy nod. “Sure. I promise.”

You didn’t even know where to start in this apology, frankly. You were sorry for doubting him, sorry for ignoring all the red flags he had pointed out about your husband Naoya Zenin. In the end, you were sorry for being so fucking stupid.

The first time Toji had warned you about Naoya, you should have listened. Toji was the expert here, so how blind could you have been? There was nothing like the crushing realization when you realized for yourself that winning your husband back was nothing more than a pipe dream.

Far before marrying you, Naoya had long loved someone else. Sure, ‘love’ may be a strong word, but why else would Naoya never want to be home? He could hardly find interest in you and became revolted when looking your way. He must have felt so wrong, so immoral, when cheating on his side-girlfriend for his wife.

The way Naoya had spoken to you tonight just rubbed salt into the wound. Just shut up. Know your boundaries. Because you were just, in his words, a fucking ornament.

His mistress sure wasn’t, though, and anyone could place the winning bet that he had gone off to spend the night with her.

Why were you not enough?

Was it because she was pretty and you were ugly? That she was smart and you were dumb? That she was funny and you were dull? Just...why? What was the reason?

And, through thick swallows and blinked-back tears, you told Toji all of that.

In one gusto, you have once again dumped all your troubles upon his shoulders. A horrible person, that was what you were—and knowing this, your gaze stayed low.

From your rambling onslaught, Toji must be processing a lot but gave away no emotional indication. From his years at work, he probably had heard it all.

You waited for Toji to retort with a pompous ‘I told you so!’ or burst into a disdainful laugh—that was how Naoya would have responded. But those reactions never came.

On the contrary, Toji tapped his chest. “Come here.”

You frowned over at him, brushing a stray tear from your chin. “What?”

“Just get over here.”

When you still wavered with reluctance, Toji pulled you tight against him—one hand firmly pressed against your lower back as the other guided your face to nestle by his shoulder.

Not expecting this, you were initially stiff and awkward in his arms. Toji’s chest was hard and muscled rather than comfortable, chiseled from his frequent strength training sessions at the gym. But when he began to rub slow circles at your waist with one hand, the other running up and down your back in gentle strokes, something about these little gestures let all your emotions go.

Slowly, you brought your arms up to wrap around him, hugging him in response. He was warm, his body like a furnace that heated your skin. You curled your hands into tight fists, grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt along with your hold. 

Then, like floodgates bursting, you melted into Toji with a sob.

“What have I done wrong?” you wailed. “Why can’t I do anything right? What do I even do from here?”

Toji listened silently as you continued to bawl, releasing all your anger and pain from the terrible weeks that you had endured. He squeezed you the tightest when you sobbed the loudest, comforting you with his ‘there there’ hums.

“Everything will be okay,” he affirmed eventually, but his words seemed so difficult to believe.

“No! Everything won’t be okay, Toji,” you cried and shook your head into his neck. “My husband doesn’t want me. Then, if Naoya doesn’t want me, the Zenins wouldn’t want me. Then, no one will want me!”

“Not true,” Toji was quick to say. He pulled you closer, his large hands patting your upper back too. “Forget Naoya, he’s an utter jerk. He might leave you, but you know who won’t? At the very least, your father won’t—he loves you.”

“But I would have disappointed him.”

“How?” he countered sharply. “If he had known how his son-in-law was treating his daughter, why would your father be disappointed in you?”

Between sniffles, you ruminated his points, half-convinced.

Toji, breathing out, then added, “Also...I won’t leave you, either. I care about you. There. You’ve already got two on your side. You will not be alone.”

“But then, what about,” you kept your lips pressed onto his collarbone, “What about the Zenins? Would they turn their backs on me too?”

Underneath your fingertips, you could feel Toji tensing at the name. “With a family so large, there are bound to be those supporting you as well. You make it sound like all his aunts, his uncles, his...,” he paused briefly, “...his cousins, all worship Naoya when a household like that is rife with drama beneath surface level. Family isn’t family for something like the Zenins. Politics comes first. Business comes first.”

His answer came out with such confidently that you silently questioned how he could be so sure.

But you suddenly remembered the kind embraces from Mai and your heart softened at the thought of Maki.

Maybe Toji was right.

A soundless sigh flew from your mouth before your arms tightened around Toji's torso, hugging him and resting your chin on his shoulder. After several moments longer, you finally released one long exhale, your tears having stopped and your breathing less erratic.

Your heart was like lead in your chest, but you pulled your face away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you rasped, throat raw. “My makeup got onto your shirt.”

Toji’s smile was soft.

“That’s fine.” He couldn’t give a damn about his white top. Reassuringly, he ran his hands along your waist before settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. “As long as you are feeling better, that’s all I need. Besides, that’s my job, yes?”

“Yes...” you mumbled shyly, wiping tears from your face with the heel of your hand.

At the sight, Toji reached toward a tissue box behind the door frame.

“Don’t cry anymore. Naoya isn’t worth the heartache, I’ll guarantee you that.” He dabbed at your pretty face with the napkin in his hands, wiping away not only the remaining tears but also the stream of snot. Lovely. “I am your friend, okay? Before the therapist stuff. We will fix this, together. That’s what friends are for.”

Friends.

When Toji first called him your friend, you did not think that he would somehow become your closest confidant.

You leaned into his touch briefly, sinking into the comfort of his palm.

“Feeling better, princess?”

Toji watched you with a chartreuse glimmer in his eyes before you finally pulled yourself from his grasp. His fingers flexed at the lost touch, almost like he was hesitant to let you go, but who was he to stop you? It wasn’t like Toji was your husband or anything.

"I am,” you replied. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He hummed in the ensuing silence before stepping to the side. “Since you’re already here, why don’t you come in? I wouldn’t want you going back like this. Naoya won’t be home, so at least you will have some company here.”

Tempting.

“I really shouldn’t stay...”

“What? Are you sure?”

No, you were not sure, and Toji sure as hell knew that.

He lolled his head toward the interior, a few of his black strands sliding across his forehead with the movement.

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he reassured before chuckling, “unless...you want me to.”

You shot the therapist a glare, but the resolve to stay upset faded when you saw him gleam with a wide smirk. Well? that mischievous spark in him seemed to say. What do you think?

Rolling your eyes, you initially snorted at the offer but could not help smiling at the stupid joke immediately afterward. Your body crumpled forward as you burst into giggles, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that you were...laughing?

“Fine,” you relented.

Toji seemed to beam in silent victory, which was cute coming from someone who looked so tough. He swept his arm in a gentle arc toward his apartment.

“Then, after you, m’lady.”

You gusYou gushed at the title.

"If you insist,” and you stepped in.

The warmth from his condo was the first to greet you as though a fireplace had been crackling in the distance. For someone who somehow had the means to afford such a luxurious space, Toji went simple in his furnishings. His cream-colored walls were cleared, save for some framed art pieces that dotted the corridors, and there were no ornate cabinets or dazzling décor. His taste in minimalism and timelessness contrasted with the grandeur in your palatial-like residence, but both styles had their appeal.

He had a gray and beige color scheme going on with the couches, the tabletops, and the lighting fixtures. The walnut wood flooring added a rustic touch to the apartment, and every corner effortlessly converged refined aesthetics with the sense of home. Even the smell inside was cozy because the apartment emanated of him—of Toji himself: spices with the redolence of bergamot and sage.

He guided you through a (very wide) hallway that opened into an equally expansive living room. Towards the side was a spiral staircase that led to an upper floor and, further ahead, floor-to-ceiling windows opened to an evening panorama.

The sky was completely dark, with the sun sunk below the horizon long ago, and the waxing moon hung like a silver sliver far away. Holding your breath, you stepped towards the glass, observing the bustle far below that twinkled like firecrackers against the concrete backdrop.

“You know, your place...is a lot nicer than I expected.”

The man tucked his large hands into his front pockets. “I’m offended.”

Instantly, you grew flustered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!” (Yes, you totally did.) “It’s just that Sukuna had made it sound like—” That you were dirt poor. “But then Geto said...” Okay, you shouldn’t be dragging more people into this. “Never mind.”

Quickly, you glanced back outside again, hoping to look like you were distracted by the vista.

“But then Sukuna and Geto said what?” Toji pried, not letting you live this down. He appeared uncharacteristically intrigued. He wanted to know what his coworkers had spilled, by how much you knew. “What have the other therapists said about me?”

“Ah, nothing much really,” you confessed, which was the truth to some extent.

“How much is ‘nothing much?’”

“Just, well,” you rolled your lips together in thought, “maybe that something, some event, or some person wronged you.” Geto’s words rang fresh in your head. “That ‘Toji just isn’t where he could possibly be.’”

Half-expectantly, you looked over at the said man from under your lashes, waiting for him to comment on the matter. Toji always appeared so hesitant to talk about his past, but you hoped that he would stop being so mysterious. It was as though he was an enigma for cautious reasons, assessing how much he could open up before he could entirely trust you.

Toji had pursed his lips as the silence in the living room became uncomfortable. But just when he appeared ready to speak, someone else filled the silence for him.

“Why the hell are you here?”

All heads turned to a frowning teenager who stood by the foot of the stairs.

He had dark eyes—dark eyes glared only at you, narrowed into a violent abyss as though he was mentally aiming daggers into your soul. For a fleeting moment, you were puzzled at who this boy was until Toji spoke first.

“That’s no way to greet a guest, Megumi.”

Oh, right. Toji had an eighteen-year-old son, and Megumi was his name. While you had spoken with the teenager on the phone before, it was different to see him in person for the first time.

For starters, the physical similarities between father and son became immediately apparent. Sure, Toji’s features had a rough edge around them—shaped from his additional years in life—but the two shared the same black stands, pointed noses, and taut lips. There was no denying the flawless genes that flowed between them.

Megumi, though, had a subtle softness to him. The teenager was smaller and shorter compared to his imposing and rugged father, but he tried to mask that youthful innocence instead with his brash style. He pulled off that ‘wild’ look better than most boys his age could, his hair longer and more tousled. The way he stood in a contrapposto, coupled with how stylish he appeared in his fuchsia tee and black cargo pants, made him look like a model from a streetwear magazine. He reached for an ear piercing with fingers adorned with flashy rings, toying with one particular stud as he examined you.

Goodness, Megumi Fushiguro was as good-looking as Sukuna had hyped him up to be.

“Well?” the boy’s irritated voice snapped you back to the present. “What are you doing at our apartment?”

“Oh, me?” You pointed to yourself. Well, no shit. Who else was he talking to? “I, um—”

“You’re another one of my dad’s women, aren’t you?” the teenager asked out of the blue, leaving you staring at him dumbly.

“One of your dad’s who?”

“Hey!” Toji warned, tone sharp. Frowning at the boy, he reprimanded him with one forceful thwack. Dad Toji was very different than Therapist Toji. “Watch what you—"

“You’re the one who called me down here!” Megumi shouted back, pushing his father’s arm away.

“Yes, I did. So what took you ten minutes to get here?”

“I was in the middle of Valorant. I left my team mid-game but for this?”

And suddenly, there was this thick and awkward tension that engulfed the room. If you had the magical ability to teleport at will, you would. Toji was obviously distraught at his son’s outburst and Megumi was similarly bristled by your presence.

About you? Well, there wasn’t anything you could do.

You took a few steps back. It was unsettling to be caught in a heated confrontation between father and son, and you silently wondered if you should just slip away to let those two sort out their miscommunications.

“So, this is your new strategy, huh?” Megumi seethed vehemently toward his father, capitalizing upon the silence. “Telling me that Nobara and Yuuji are here only for you to introduce me to, out of everyone in this world, her?!”

The attack felt personal when Megumi raised his arm and pointed squarely at you, even if the boy glowered at his dad instead. You had frozen, stopped by confusion, as Megumi continued in anger: “What is the meaning of this!”

Toji, who was returning his son’s glare, glanced at you briefly. He didn’t show this side to him very often: the one where he was just a single dad, handling a moody teenage son at home.

You wondered if Toji felt weird that you were watching him deal with Megumi’s tantrum. At least, he must be embarrassed that this was how your first encounter with Megumi was going, but he didn’t offer much into his internal dialogue because he clenched his teeth, his eyes sliding slowly to his son again.

“Megumi,” Toji started, “please...don’t point at people. That’s not nice.”

His voice was sterner than before, but the boy responded with a dramatic scoff.

“Nice?!” Megumi repeated. “You want me to be nice to her? Is this some sick joke?!” His face twisted with disbelief. “With all the horrible crap that had happened to us, what good thing has she ever done? Just because she’s pretty, and suddenly, you’ve forgiven her for everything?”

You blinked, stumped.

Forgive you?

Why would Toji need to forgive you?

Perplexed, you turned to Toji but he did not meet your gaze.

“There is nothing to forgive her for. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” the older man defended, but Megumi wanted to hear none of this.

He was out for blood.

“That’s because you’re too fucking infatuated to see the demon she is,” he huffed, voice laced with bitterness. “Dad, I wish you would put your goddamn brain to use and stop thinking with your dick first.”

“Language!” Toji snapped with a roar. “She’s our friend!”

“Friend, my ass! I don’t like your fucking friends!”

With eyes blown wide, Megumi clenched his fists so tightly that his hands began to shake.

“I just...I just can’t believe you,” and when his voice cracked, there was pain that bubbled from the frustration. “I already told you that I don’t want to meet whoever you are bringing home. Just stop trying so hard for my sake. This hurts me, and this also hurts you. Can’t you see that, Dad? Nothing’s going to bring Mom back! I’m over that, alright?” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped, though, before he finally added: “And I’m tired!”

At that, Megumi walked—correction, stormed—away.

“Fuck this shit,” he spat and marched up the stairs, grumbling more profanities upon his climb.

The footsteps’ volume started to fade, but not before a loud bang startled you when Megumi slammed his bedroom door shut, the entire apartment seemingly shuddering with the sound.

Beside you, the Toji that you had always known—the snarky man who always seemed so unruffled by even the wildest moments—crumbled a little when he sighed. He rubbed his face with a free hand, sinking his forehead into his palm as he muttered indiscernibly.

He collected himself he turned back around to you, but you saw that his shoulders sagged with an invisible weight, the emerald glimmer in his eyes now a dim flicker. Within ten minutes, Toji had grown to look stressed and incredibly tired.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice impossibly small for a man as large as him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry that you had to see that. He’s usually a good kid. I’ll talk to him again later.”

You bit your lip.

“Oh, um...Well...That’s okay,” you eventually replied, which was a total lie because that was not okay. Even as you offered a small smile for support, Megumi—his words, his tone, his ferocious glare—slashed at your heart. You rationalized his behavior aloud to ease your own pain. “Megumi’s eighteen, and you know what teenagers are like: hormonal with their mood swings all the time. You are a great father, Toji. This isn’t your fault.”

“No. This is my fault,” he replied very quickly.

Oh. So instead you said: “I get it.”

“Except you don’t get it.”

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that you truly did not understand where this father-son conflict stemmed from. Was it...was it because of you?

You never intended to burden anyone, yet your mere existence appeared to be doing just that.

It was painful to see Toji like this. During your lowest lows, he always offered considerable comfort and renewed confidence, but you weren’t sure what to say to provide him with the same. By some weird twisted fate, Toji now needed you more than you needed him. As a therapist, he had a special soothing effect, and never have you so badly wished for the same.

“Then,” this time you were more careful with your words, “Then, help me understand. Help me so that I can then help you.”

Tone resolute, you longed to learn about the unspoken difficulties that Toji had been facing by himself. While you had your troubles, he must have had many more for his son—not even Toji himself—to act this way.

Perhaps you also cared for him more than you thought because, as he noted himself, he’s your friend.

Toji held a long inhale, thinking and thinking and thinking, before breathing out in one audible go.

“Where do I even start?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I loved fleshing out our relationship with Toji from a channel to mutually release sexual frustrations to a friendship built upon shared vulnerabilities. Also, Megumi is very much in his emo and rebellious teenage era. Like most people his age, he has his reasons…

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