#chapter2

[sunsetthievescomic]

2-11

Sunset Thieves Chapter 2 - Head in the clouds

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[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

AESPA Winter x Male Reader (POV)

2. The Study Date

We talked about her grades, and agreed on a day to meet up and study. We decided on a Friday afternoon, in my little room. I was barely fitting in. But at least she is small. However, I had a feeling that something was off. My bully suddenly becomes a friendly face? No. I was sure that she has a plan to make me look ridiculous or guilty. I was going to find out tho. This was the sole reason I accepted to act in her little play.

On the other hand, It was killing me to think about what ifs. What if all of the bully thing was a cover up because she really liked me? Or this was the way she flirts? What if she expresses her feelings this way? It was hard to stop think about all of those. But after that day, she stopped abusing me verbally. She only smiled and wawed at me until the day of our meeting arrived. Thursday night, something unexpected happened. My routine, I brushed my teeth, get into my pyjamas and lat down to my bed then started scrolled through my Instagram. As I scroll down, Instagram has suggested me a familiar face. It was Minjeong’s account. Although she was hanging out with the richest girls in the school, her account was pretty modest with 17 followers. My finger wanted to push the follow button, my brain resisted. But in the end my heart was the one who stopped the argument by chooising my fingers side. I pushed the follow button. Her account was private. And I really wanted to look at her photos. Five or six minutes later, she followed me back. My hear was racing as I went to her account and started looking at her photos. I realized that I never looked at her as a girl. She was always my bully. Since I came here she always showed me her bully side. But you can feel that getting accepted into her account was a rare privilage.

Before looking at her photos, I wanted to check if she follows and boys. But she wasn’t. 17 girls, and there was me. The only boy she follows. What I was thinking? What I was expecting from her? Be my girlfriend? As I started to look at her photos, I realized that I probably in love with her. But I also despise her. Hate her. But I want her. I desperately need her attention. Her abuse. Out of the blue, I got a boner when I look at her photo. The urge for jerking off to minjeong was all over my head. But once I did that, there was no turning back. I was ashamed, angry and happy. I don’t know how to describe this feeling. Only thing I want was to kiss her. But I hold myself back. I needed to understand her true intention.

With all of that in my mind, I fell asleep. Then, I woke up to the doorbell. I looked at my phone to see the time. It was nine in the morning. It wasn’t be Minjeong. We agreed upon afternoon. But again, I was expecting nobody. So I thought it was just wrong, or my landlord. I ignored it. But then she messaged me on instagram. The message was saying “Are you sleeping? I’m at your door.” I rushed ot from the bed, and opened the door. There she was stading in from of me with her messy figure. No make up, her hair was all over the place. But she was wearing a skirt with no socks or something. Her pale white legs was very intimitading. Her legs were exposed but she was wearing a thick sweatshirt. “Aren’t you cold?” I asked. She laughed and answered. “My lower body never gets cold. Only the top. So I only keep my upper body warm. Because it makes my whole body warm.” I picked up her bag and invited her to my bed. Because it was to only place to sit. “I don’t have anything to eat, we have to order it if you’re hungry.” I said. “No, don’t worry I’m not hungry. But i will be.” She answered. Of course, I nodded. “Which books did you bring with you?” I asked. “I don’t have any books. I have my notebooks.” She answered. She gave me one of her notebooks. I took a brief look at her notebook. It was mostly empty. Some of the pages there were drawings and a couple of words related to the subject. It was totally weird because she was not verbally abusing me or anything. She was just looking at me in a way that could melt my heart . There was an awkward silence for a moment. I decided to break the silence by asking “So, what are we studying?” I sat on my bed while asking her the question. She came closer. And said “Nothing really. I lied to you about all the my father is going to remove me from the school thing.” “ I knew it!” i said loudly. “You knew what?” She answered curiously. “I knew that you’re hiding something from me.” I answered. She took the notebook off from my hands and threw it somewhere in the room. “And what is it that I’m hiding?” she asked me. She was so close and I was feeling so nervous. “I don’t know. You suddenly stop bullying me, and then this happened.” I answered. I was avoiding eye contact. And I knew that she was directly looking at me. I decided to look at her. I turn my head towards her. Then we made eye contact. And I have to admit it. She was looking like a dream. That eye contact made us get closer to each other. Our lips were about to touch. Then it happened. We were kissing. She put her hand on my belly while I hold her neck with my hand. Her hand were navigating through my body. I did the same. I put my other hand to her thighs. Then, with a sudden move, she grabbed my cock. I had a boner. Of course she realized that because I was still in my pyjamas. But we were still kissing. My tongue was inside her mouth, our tongues were dancing with each other. Suddenly she stopped kissing me and put her hand inside my pyjama. She started to jerk me off.  I couldn’t believe it. She was my bully and then, she was jerking me off in my dorm room. What a way to start a toxic relationship.

As she got faster, I couldn’t help but lean back. I was feeling amazing. Her little hands has such a good grip that I had a feeling that she will rip it off at some point. “Tell me when you’re about to cum.” She smiled as she talked. A moment later, I gave her the signal that I’m about to cum. She stopped. And seconds later she started again with a slower pace. I was about to cum, but I couldn’t. Because she was not letting me cum. “What are we even doing?” I asked her. She told me to shut my mouth and wait for her. I did not had any choice. “Are you about to cum?” she asked again. “Yes” I answered. She got faster. And I came. Her hands was covered with my cum. But she got faster and faster. It was painfull but I never had a better orgasm before. She licked some my cum off from her hands and got up to wash her hands. I was not expecting this to happen. “Are we going to talk about this?” I asked her. Because I was so curious about her intention. “It was so obvious that you don’t have a girl to satisfy you.” She sit beside me after saying it. “That obvious” I asked. She nodded with a little smile. “You’re pathetic.” She added. “I only gave you a little of me. Wait until you see a bigger part.” “You don’t have to pity me, Minjeong.” She pushed me back to the bed and sit on top of me. “You really think I pity you? Should I pity you” I said no. I was getting my strength back. So i hold her and get on top of her. “Tell me one reason not to fuck you right here.” I asked. She giggled and answered. “I can’t. But will you? Do you have the balls to fuck me?”  I was so furious. A part of me wanted to fuck her. But my logic got the best of me. I got up from the bed. “I knew you don’t have it.” She said. “Are you tired because I jerked your buddy to hard?” She was tempting me to fuck her. I realized that. “You hungry” I asked to change the subject. “Yes” she answered. “What do you want to eat?” She looked at me with her pretty eyes and answered my question. “Your heart.”

[ilovesexymenman]

——————————————————

|| HIS TEETH IN YOUR NECK ! ! ||

————————————————————————

REMMICK X READER

Stupidly slow burn || chapter 2/?

Summary: After gaining your memories he knew how horrible your husband was to you and wanted to kill him, and you joined along! (Therapy 2.0)

TW: Death, slight mentions of blood, cannibalism, basic vampire stuff

WC: ~2000

AUN: Hello guys we officially got chapter 2 and I’m so happy people actually noticed my first chapter!! Unfortunately tumblr did not like the pennywise fic I made so we’re just gonna focus on remmick :D

EDIT: CHAPTER THREE OFFICIALLY OUT GO CHECK IT OUTTTT!!!

CHP2: Sweet sweet revenge.

————♡————-

After remmick turned you all of your memories flashed through his mind. All the abuse and torture you spent years enduring with nobody coming to save you since you were “lucky” to date a man like your husband. Sure, he may have been richer than the typical black man but that didn’t make your marriage automatically better. Remmick felt angered at the fact you were treated terribly even though you were his wife, the one sacred thing in a man’s world that should be treated like a goddess. Not trash.

He lost his wife a long time ago and took everything about her for granted, he’d never allow another man to take his wife for granted. Not like he stupidly did.

He looked over at you and asked gently, his eyes softened seeing your face in a new light.

“Darling.. why don’t we pay that husband of yours a visit?”

You looked over at him confusingly then realize what he seen through your memories. Those god fucking awful memories of you and your husband. You look down at the ground for a moment thinking of all the times your husband came home black out drunk beating on you or forced you into having sex with him. You felt a wave of anger run through you. An anger that’s been building for years and finally is showing. You looked over at him and nod as tears started to swell in your eyes, you whisper.

“Yeah..”

Remmick goes to grab hold of you and jumps up into the air, flying back over to your home. You both land safely and your doors wide open from when you left and your husband still blissfully asleep.

You walk in your heart starting to race from the fear he may wake up but oddly enough the presence of remmick behind you watching you makes you feel somewhat at ease, you walk further into the bedroom going next to the bed post watching him sleep. The bastard who hurt you for such a long time looked weak for once.. you look back at remmick and he gives you a smile and a little nod to do as you please.

Then your heart had a sudden change in rhythm, more confident. More relaxed now that you realized YOU were in control. You walk over to your husband and your fangs start to grow out, before you could take a moment to think about what your about to do, you sink your fangs into his neck tearing him up feasting on his flesh.

Your husbands eyes go wide as he screams but it didn’t stop you, his blood tasted sweeter than the revenge. Eventually, he stopped screaming. Then you stopped feasting. You left him as nothing but a torn up body. You lick the blood off your hands things getting messier than expected. Remmick chuckles and says in a proud tone,

“Your one cold heart killer sweetheart.”

And you look back at him with a smile brighter than ever. Remmick looked over to see the sun starting to peek out and asked,

“You ready to leave him and join me?”

And you took a moment to think before saying,

“yes.”

And took off your wedding ring holding you down all these years and threw it on his corpse making remmick grin wider than before.

Remmick lead you outside and grabbed hold to you, he murmured,

“Keep tight doll,”

and flew off to a safe place for the both of you.

With your husband out of the picture and remmick in your life you felt.. happier. You were excited for once in your life to see what was going to happen next.

TO BE CONTINUED…

————

Hope you guys loved the new chapter!!! Chapter 3 coming soon at some point, if there’s any errors, misspelling, etc please reach out!! Just wanna say again thank you guys for hitting that like on the first chapter and im super happy people like it! Manlover out!! >3<

[taintedsoul-if]

What to Expect from Dangerous Games — A Throne Beneath the Grave, First Installment:

Experience two forms of death

Choose your past life’s profession: were you an Imperial Physician, Grand Diplomat, or Warlord?

See the world through the eyes of the body you’ll inhabit after death

Partially customize your MC (more options unlock in Chapter 1)

And most importantly… die twice

Changes Made / Things Added to Tainted Souls:

Added *if statements for when the MC chooses not to pull Cailyn off the cliff

Reworked hair customization—players can now choose their preferred hair color

Introduced a stats chart to track Revenge, Good Life, and Uncertain paths; these will help shape future consequences based on your choices

What to Expect from Tainted Souls: Second Installment

Attend your ex-betrothed’s Welcoming Ceremony

Activate a hidden stat—or not (still debating whether to include it in the main stats screen)

Lose control of your abilities due to emotional remnants from your new body—and attack the original host’s murderers

Meet and briefly interact with two or three out of five romance options

Dig your own grave with your selected punishment

Learn more about the upcoming Armistice Competition.

Have breakfast with the imperial family

Remind Ragriel that you are the only child of the $!{surname2} household

As always, if you notice any inconsistencies with pronouns or spot any coding errors, please send them my way! I’ve run both randomtest and quicktest on these demos, along with my own read-through, edits, and tweaks. And you all know my ask box is always open—even if I take a loooong time to respond.

Also, I miscalculated earlier—Tainted Souls is now sitting at 85k words, and Dangerous Games is at 8k. I know some of you are probably itching to code dive, but I kindly ask for your patience. I still need to set aside a day to properly clean up the stats and startup pages. Until then—no code diving, sorry 🙇‍♀️.

If you’re enjoying what I’ve shared so far and want to support this lazy, introverted potato, you can treat me to a virtual chocolate! Totally optional, but always appreciated. Ko-Fi

So please enjoy—I hope you have as much fun with this update as I had writing it!

You can find the demos here:

Dangerous Games — A Throne Beneath The Grave Demo

Tainted Souls: Fables & Myth — The Bonded Awakening Demo

Oh! Before I forget—your saves will definitely be in shambles thanks to the new variables I added to the startup file.

[sphaeramjourney]

The following post contains:

implications of suicide

tobacco usage

[cosmic-logem]

HAPPY RALSEIIII

Nevermind, chapter 4 broke me

Posted using PostyBirb

[alarwynnwhispers]

🌅ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ꜱᴇᴛꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ – ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2: ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀɪᴅ🌅

ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ + ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:

ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ / ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀʙᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ɢʀɪᴇꜰ

ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ & ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ & ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ

ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ʟᴏꜱꜱ

ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇꜱ

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ

ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ

ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀʏ ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

Singapore Grand Prix – Five Years Later

The sun hung heavy over the city, blinding in its brilliance, casting every steel edge of the Marina Bay Street Circuit into sharp, merciless contrast. It was qualifying day, and the paddock thrummed with the familiar rhythm of urgency—a symphony of hydraulic whirs, media chatter, and the low, persistent throb of engines spinning in the distance. The scent of burning rubber mingled with perfume and sweat, a strange concoction unique to Formula One weekends.

But amidst the chaos, one woman moved with unshakable calm.

Her name was (Y/n) Young. Not Norris. Not anymore.

She walked between the lines of hospitality tents and garages with the kind of presence that turned heads long before anyone recognized her face. The loose silk blouse she wore, ivory against her skin, billowed slightly with the breeze, tucked neatly into high-waisted tailored trousers of midnight black. Her heels made no sound, yet her footsteps echoed in the air. People whispered in hushed tones, unsure if they should look, or look away.

“That’s her, isn’t it?”

“Lando’s ex-wife.”

“Didn’t they—?”

“God, she still looks…”

Perfect. Unreachable. Like a woman carved out of memory.

The lanyard around her neck bore the symbol of one of the race weekend’s biggest sponsors, a direct nod to her presence here. She hadn’t come by choice. Not really. She had refused twice. The third time, her father had simply handed her the itinerary, kissed her on the forehead, and said, “Your grandmother would have gone.”

So, she went.

She was Young, the only daughter of one of Singapore’s most powerful dynasties. Sister to Alaric and Cassius, both titans of industry before the age of forty. Heiress to a legacy steeped in generational wealth, political diplomacy, and social obligation. Her presence at the Grand Prix was a symbol—not of nostalgia, but of stature.

Even if this city held ghosts.

The VIP box loomed above the grid, glassed in and lined with white linen chairs and gold-accented champagne coolers. From here, she could see it all: the glint of helmets, the blur of mechanics, the blurrier line between theatre and war beneath the sun. She sat, legs crossed, hands resting lightly on her lap, her gaze steady but distant—watching, but not really watching.

Her mind wandered.

Not to the track, nor the standings. But to a boy with sun-soft curls and a laugh that once filled the spaces between walls and hearts. A baby who should be five now. Should be here. Should be…

No.

Not here.

Nowhere near this world.

She closed her eyes for a second, inhaled slowly, then let it go.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Qualifying ended.

Engines died down. Screens flashed with sector times and pole positions. Verstappen first. Lando Norris, second. His name lingered onscreen for longer than necessary.

She stood without a word.

Instantly, like a tide rolling in without warning, the media descended. Their voices sharp, too eager, slicing through the space between her and silence.

“Miss Young! Miss Young! Is this your first time back at a Grand Prix since—”

“Are you here supporting Lando—?”

“Did McLaren invite you? Will you two be reconciling—?”

“Is it true you’ve taken over the Young family jewelry house? Was this an official appearance—?”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. Her posture never wavered. She moved through them like mist—untouchable, regal. Her silence wasn’t resistance. It was command. She owed them nothing.

Her heels clicked down the stairs of the VIP suite and onto the paddock walkway, each step purposeful. Around her, staff and media gave way, instinctively aware that though she was no longer a fixture in Formula One, she hadn’t lost her crown, she had simply traded it.

Then, a voice.

Soft. Familiar. Almost trembling with hope.

“(Y/n)...?”

She turned.

Cisca Norris stood a few paces away, partially in the shade of the McLaren motorhome. Her shirt was pressed, her hair pinned in its usual casual style, but her eyes—those warm, ocean-grey eyes—swam with emotion.

(Y/n)’s face melted. Just a little. She smiled.

They walked to each other and embraced with the quiet intensity of women who had once been family, still were in some parallel realm untouched by grief and law. There was no need for words at first. Just the ache of reunion, of time passed.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Cisca said softly once they pulled apart.

“I didn’t either,” (Y/n) murmured. “Not until I was already in the car.”

A low chuckle passed between them. And then another voice broke in.

“Darling,” Adam Norris said gently, stepping forward to wrap her in a hug of his own. “You look well.”

“As do you,” she replied, pulling back to look at him. “I heard about the new foundation. You’ve done good work.”

“Trying,” he said, eyes glancing toward the garage. “Some days are harder than others.”

She knew what he meant. She nodded.

And then the air changed.

It was like a shadow passed over them, though the sky remained bright.

Lando was standing by the garage entrance.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t smile.

His eyes were on her—unblinking, unwavering— as if seeing a dream made flesh again. Something in him stilled, like the world had narrowed into a single, slivered moment where nothing existed but her presence. He looked older. Not in the lines on his face, but in his stillness. As though the years had carved silence into his bones.

(Y/n) looked back. And for a fraction of a second, barely a breath, her composure cracked. Not visibly. Just in the eyes.

She looked away first.

“Come inside,” Cisca said gently, sensing the tension and offering relief. “Please. Just for a little while.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“You always say that.”

“I mean it this time.”

“I know,” Cisca said, taking her hand anyway. “But I’m asking you. Not as a guest. Just as someone who still loves you.”

(Y/n) hesitated.

Then nodded.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Inside the McLaren hospitality suite, it was cooler, quieter. The noise of the outside world faded behind closed glass doors and thick carpet. Familiar photos adorned the walls, but new ones too; unfamiliar faces, new sponsors, newer seasons. The orange and black decor remained, but the era had changed.

Still, something about the place pulled at her memory. That first year. Her standing by Lando’s side. Leo asleep in her arms during a debrief. The way the engineers used to tiptoe around them as if afraid to disturb that strange little pocket of joy.

She sat with Cisca and Adam in a corner booth, sipping chilled tea. The conversation, at first, was light such as pleasantries, business, names dropped and picked up like smooth stones.

“So,” Cisca asked, tilting her head with soft curiosity, “what have you been doing with yourself?”

(Y/n) folded her hands. “I inherited the jewelry house from Ah-Ma last year. She left everything to me. The atelier, the archive, the Paris apartment. It’s… it’s a legacy I never expected to hold.”

“I’ve seen your designs,” Cisca smiled. “The emerald set for Queen Mathilde? Breathtaking.”

(Y/n) nodded, a hint of pride peeking through. “We’ve just opened a boutique in Doha. And I’ve restructured the creative team in Singapore. My brothers are running the conglomerate—Alaric’s more numbers, Cassius is the strategist. But they let me design, lead, manage the cultural arms. It keeps me occupied.”

Cisca reached across the table and touched her hand. “You’re doing brilliantly.”

“I’m doing,” (Y/n) said simply.

Zak Brown passed by at that moment, pausing in mid-conversation when he spotted her. “Well, look who the winds brought back.”

“Hello, Zak,” she said, standing briefly to shake his hand.

“You look incredible,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” she replied, graceful but measured.

“Stay for dinner later. The view’s better here,” he joked, then gave a friendly nod before disappearing again.

And then, the quiet shifted again.

He was there.

Lando entered the room.

His steps were slow, unsure. He wasn’t smiling. His gaze flicked toward her, paused, then locked in. He hadn’t looked at her like that in years—not on purpose, not since before.

They stared.

She didn’t speak. Neither did he.

It was as if every breath in the room held still, suspended between their silence. Her shoulders straightened, but her fingers curled ever so slightly in her lap. He had that same nervous tension she remembered from his rookie days, when he didn’t know how to look confident but wanted to be brave anyway.

Their eyes said what their mouths wouldn’t.

You’re really here.

I never stopped wondering if you’d come.

But she blinked first.

The spell broke.

She turned toward Cisca, lifting her bag with practiced ease. “I should go. It’s been a long day.”

Cisca stood with her. “Will you come tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’ll be in the box again.”

“We’ll look for you before or after the race,” Adam said gently.

(Y/n) nodded, smiling once more. She didn’t glance back at Lando. Not this time.

As she walked out, the glass doors slid shut behind her, sealing her back into the heat, the noise, the city that once knew her as his.

Inside, Lando watched her go.

Still silent.

Still hoping.

And still, somehow, aching.

The air outside was warmer than before, the golden haze of the late Singapore sun beginning to melt into evening. (Y/n) walked slowly, heels ticking softly against the paddock concrete, her stride elegant but restrained, the way one moves after seeing too many ghosts in too little time. She passed rows of engineers packing down equipment, drivers giving post-quali interviews under blistering lights, cameras flashing with relentless urgency. None of it touched her. None of it reached the place her mind now lingered.

Lando hadn’t said a word.

Neither had she.

But what could they possibly say?

The years had built too many walls between them, walls made of silence, of grief, of unanswered questions that neither had dared to reopen. She had managed to keep herself composed. Mostly. Yet now, with each step drawing her further from the McLaren motorhome, she felt the ache grow stronger—not weaker.

Perhaps it was because she had seen his eyes again.

Or perhaps it was because she had caught a glimpse of the life she left behind.

Either way, it stirred something inside her that she didn’t want to name.

She neared the exit gates of the paddock, just as the last threads of sunlight laced through the marina skyline. The crowds had thinned here, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like peace.

Then, her phone buzzed.

She didn’t check it right away. She assumed it was her assistant reminding her about the dinner she was meant to attend with the sponsors. Or perhaps one of her brothers, likely Cassius, sending a sarcastic message about her surviving the circus of motorsport once more.

But then it vibrated again. And again.

A strange rhythm. Not frantic, not quite, but... weighted. A vibration that seemed to linger longer than it should, pulsing against her palm like a heartbeat made mechanical.

Frowning faintly, (Y/n) slid the phone from her slim clutch.

The screen blinked awake.

One unread message. No name. No contact photo. Just a string of numbers she didn’t recognise—long, foreign, untraceable.

Her breath caught.

A strange chill crawled beneath her skin.

She opened the message.

Just two words. Nothing more.

He’s alive. —Unknown

Her feet stopped moving.

Everything around her—the noise, the lights, the blurred laughter in the distance, dropped away as though someone had turned the world’s volume knob down to nothing.

She stared at the words.

Her fingers, once so poised and certain, began to tremble.

For a moment, she thought it must be a mistake. A sick prank. One of those awful messages people send to public figures for attention or drama. But something about the way it was written, how spare it was—no punctuation, no flourish, just five direct words—gripped her with a force she couldn’t explain.

She swallowed hard. Her heart, once slow and quiet, began to thrum against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Then, just below the text, the phone began to load an image.

The thumbnail appeared grainy at first, blurred and pixelated, the connection momentarily sluggish.

But then it sharpened.

She froze.

It was a child.

A boy.

Standing outside—on what looked like a garden path, or perhaps a park. The photo was taken from a slight distance, through glass maybe. The light obscured part of his face, but it didn’t matter.

She knew those eyes. Wide, dark, familiar in a way that no time could erode.

She knew that hair—soft brown curls, now slightly longer, messier.

And the scar—a faint line just above his right brow. He had it as a baby, from bumping into the corner of the sofa when he first learned to crawl.

Her lips parted, no sound escaping. Her eyes stung, not from the humidity, but from the swell of something unspoken. Her knees felt weak beneath her.

It was him.

Leo.

Alive.

Still breathing. Still growing. Still out there.

She gripped the phone tightly, afraid to blink, afraid the image would disappear like a mirage. Her chest heaved, but she didn’t cry. Not yet. There was no space for tears, not in this suspended moment where the axis of her entire world tilted, shifted, turned.

All this time...

And now this.

A single message. A single photo. And the life she thought was buried had just clawed its way to the surface again.

Everything went still.

Everything.

To be continued...

🌅ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ꜱᴇᴛꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ – ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3: ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴇ🌅

📝 Note from the Author: Everyone suffers, nobody heals, and then I drop a mysterious text message at the end MUAHAHAHAHAHA.

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪᴛ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ-ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇꜱ, ᴀʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ. ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ɪɴᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴄɪᴇꜱ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ 1, ᴍᴏɴᴀᴄᴏ, ꜱɪɴɢᴀᴘᴏʀᴇ, ʟᴇɢᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴅᴜʀᴇꜱ, ɪɴᴠᴇꜱᴛɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ɪɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟꜱ ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ.

[mindairy]

College Love

Chapter 2: Unraveling Threads

jeyuso/latina-reader

word count: 2315

Summary: Jordyn is dealing with the fallout of Adonis's ultimate betrayal and finds an unexpected (and totally confusing) connection with none other than Joshua Fatu, her reluctant math tutor. 👀

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Chapter 2: Unraveling Threads

Jordyn watched Joshua Fatu's figure recede, shrinking against the distant campus buildings, and a hot wave of mortification washed over her. His parting words, "You might not be looking for my advice, but I would say you should leave him. He isn't as great as he seems and you definitely deserve better," still echoed, sharp and cutting. How dare he? Joshua, the aloof "playboy" Fatu, offering such blunt, unsolicited counsel. Yet, beneath her indignation, a chilling flicker of recognition stirred. He had just witnessed her at her most exposed, unraveling in a public meltdown, and instead of judgment, he had simply… helped. The thought was as jarring as it was, in a strange, unsettling way, comforting.

Her walk back to the house felt like slogging through quicksand, each step heavy with chaotic thoughts. The humiliation of her outburst in the math lab, the raw, stinging betrayal of Adonis’s texts, and now Joshua’s unnervingly accurate dismissal of her relationship—it was a dizzying assault on her carefully constructed composure. Her mind kept replaying the image from the DM: Adonis, on his bed, with another girl. The betrayal was a fresh, burning wound, too raw to even fully grasp. Yet, the memory of Joshua's strong, steady hands on her arms, his calm voice cutting through the fog of her panic, was an equally powerful intrusion. "I know what it's like," he'd said. What in the world could he know?

She found Bianca and Trinity in their shared living room, their rom-com paused, a silent pact of concern passing between them as Jordyn walked in, her face still a little pale, her bandaged hand a stark white against her skin.

"How was... math?" Bianca asked cautiously, her eyes searching Jordyn's, skipping over the bandage.

Jordyn shrugged, collapsing onto the couch, the springs groaning in protest. "It was... eventful." She wasn't ready to unleash the full storm of Adonis's treachery, nor the bizarre encounter with Joshua. "He's... a surprisingly decent tutor, actually. Knows his stuff." The admission felt like pulling teeth.

Trinity, ever direct, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Forget the math for a second, Jordy. What's going on with you and Adonis? This," she gestured vaguely at Jordyn's disheveled appearance and bandaged hand, "isn't just a tough physics problem. You're practically fading away, on edge... what happened yesterday that actually pushed you over?"

Jordyn hesitated, gnawing on her lip. She wanted to confide, needed to, but the raw shame still choked her. "It's... complicated. He's just being an idiot, as usual. More so than usual, I guess." The lie tasted bitter, but she couldn't articulate the depth of the betrayal, not yet. She just needed a moment to breathe without feeling like her carefully constructed world was caving in.

Meanwhile, Joshua Fatu walked away from the math lab, a rare, thoughtful frown etched between his brows. He'd witnessed plenty of girls cry over Adonis, even a few dramatic confrontations. But Jordyn Martinez was different. Her meltdown wasn't the performative theatrics he was used to. It was raw, genuine panic, and the fury that preceded it was too palpable to ignore. He knew Adonis, knew his easy charm, his slippery way with words, and the casual, almost reflexive cruelty hidden beneath that flashy smile. He'd seen the other girls, the constant stream of DMs, the blatant disrespect. He'd always kept his distance, a silent observer in Adonis's superficial orbit. But he had also, quietly, appreciated Jordyn from afar – her sharp wit, her unapologetic outspokenness, her undeniable intelligence. She was a woman who didn't play games, and Adonis was nothing but a player.

A profound internal conflict churned within Joshua. He despised that she was with Adonis, hated the way the star quarterback treated women, especially someone with Jordyn's clear strength and intelligence. There was an unfamiliar pull, a nascent interest that surprised him, even as he refused to give it a name or acknowledge it as anything more than a passing curiosity. He felt a pang of genuine concern for Jordyn's distress, a stark contrast to the detached respect he usually held for Adonis. He had called it, hadn't he? Not with a sense of triumph, but with a quiet, almost grim understanding of the pain Jordyn was now experiencing. This undeniable breaking point felt like a window, an unexpected chance. Not a moment to swoop in and exploit her vulnerability, but an opportunity for her to finally see Adonis for what he was. He had offered her an out, a small push towards seeing the truth. It was a calculated risk, a delicate balance between his genuine concern, his animosity towards Adonis, and this burgeoning, unidentifiable interest he harbored. The look in her eyes as she pulled away, the raw vulnerability he'd witnessed, told him it might have been worth stepping out of his usual respectful distance.

Later that night, alone in her room, the silence amplified the echo of Adonis's texts. Jordyn pulled out her phone, rereading them, the images from the DM burning into her mind. The denial, the gaslighting, the blatant lies. "That's just some crazy fan, baby. You know how girls are around me. Don't let them get in your head." He was a master manipulator, and she had been utterly blind. The image of him with another girl, on his bed, was too stark, too painful to dismiss. This wasn't just a casual fight. This was an undeniable end.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her, heavier than any academic pressure she'd ever faced. The thought of confronting him, of facing his inevitable charm offensive and dismissals, felt unbearable. She didn't want to fight anymore. She just wanted it to be over. With trembling fingers, Jordyn drafted a short, concise text. "We're done." She hit send, the finality of the action a dull ache in her chest that was surprisingly accompanied by a strange lightness.

She still hated math. But now, she also truly hated Adonis. And, strangely, she felt a perplexing mix of apprehension and a sliver of curiosity about the next tutoring session. The last person she expected to see had become a reluctant confidant, and her most frustrating subject was now undeniably linked to a new, unsettling, and potentially liberating chapter.

The next morning, the lingering anxiety from yesterday's outburst still clung to Jordyn, a dull ache beneath her ribs. Her bandaged hand was a constant, itchy reminder of how close she’d come to truly losing control. Though she’d ended things with Adonis last night, the relief was muted by a hollow ache, overshadowed by the persistent dread of her looming math grade. She reviewed the problems from the previous day, only to find herself staring blankly at the equations, her mind a fog. It was clear she couldn't wait until next week's scheduled session.

Reluctantly, she picked up her phone, the sticky note Joshua had given her still resting on her desk. His number, stark and unexpectedly formal, stared back at her. Taking a deep breath, Jordyn typed out a message, the words feeling foreign, admitting a weakness she rarely showed. “Hi, this is Jordyn. I was wondering if you might have any availability to go over some of the physics problems today? I’m still really struggling.” She hit send, immediately regretting the urgency, the raw vulnerability in her plea. She hated needing help, hated asking, especially from him. The thought of facing Joshua, after her dramatic display yesterday, made embarrassment prickle at her ears. But the alternative – failing – was far worse.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with a reply. Joshua's response was curt, professional, but surprisingly quick: "Meet me at the library study room 3B at 3 PM. Don't be late." No pleasantries, no questions about her outburst. Just direct, to the point. A small, unexpected wave of relief washed over her. At least with Joshua, there was no pretense, no games. Only the stark reality of the numbers they needed to conquer.

Jordyn returned to the house later that afternoon, a fresh sense of purpose, if not exhaustion, clinging to her. She pushed open the door to find Bianca and Trinity curled up on the couch, immersed in a rom-com. They glanced up, their eyes immediately assessing her, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor.

"Well? How was the session?" Trinity asked, pausing the movie.

Jordyn dropped her bag onto her bed with a thud, then walked over to the mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. She took a long, slow sip, prolonging the reveal just a little. "It was... productive." She turned, leaning against the counter, and fixed her gaze on them. "And guess who my tutor is."

Bianca frowned, clearly trying to mentally cycle through the math department staff. "Some quiet grad student, right? The one with the glasses who always looks stressed?"

"Or the really intense one who practically lives in the lab?" Trinity chimed in, a grin playing on her lips. "Did they at least manage to explain what a derivative is?"

Jordyn took another sip, then let out a small, almost disbelieving laugh. "Try Joshua Fatu."

Silence. Absolute, stunned silence. Trinity's hand, mid-reach for the remote, froze. Bianca's jaw, which had been loosely open, dropped. Their eyes, wide with disbelief, stared back at her as if she'd just announced she was marrying a unicorn.

"Joshua Fatu?" Bianca finally managed, her voice a strangled whisper. "Adonis's teammate? The one everyone calls 'Crash Out Jey' behind his back?"

"The one who supposedly only cares about football and his family's money?" Trinity added, her voice rising in pitch. "Our Joshua Fatu? Your tutor?"

Jordyn nodded slowly, a wry smirk touching her lips at their stunned reactions. "The very same. And honestly? He's a wizard. Like, a real wizard with numbers. He actually made physics make sense."

Bianca recovered first, leaning forward, her eyes twinkling with a mix(ed) of gossip and genuine curiosity. "Okay, spill everything. What happened? How was he? Did he... did he say anything about Adonis?" The questions tumbled out, eager to fill the sudden, unexpected void Joshua Fatu had created in their assumptions. This was definitely not the kind of math tutor they had envisioned.

Jordyn held up her bandaged hand, then let it drop to her lap, a new resolve in her eyes. "He didn't need to," she stated, her voice firm, the last vestiges of doubt about her decision finally dissipating. Trinity was the first to break the stunned silence that followed Jordyn’s declaration, letting out a loud, high-pitched screech that startled even Jordyn. "You did WHAT?!" Trinity shrieked, jumping off the couch. Bianca, though more composed, covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dawning relief. "Are you serious, Jordy? You really did it?"

"I ended things with Adonis last night. I'm done." Trinity shrieked again, louder this time, pumping her fists in the air. "YES! Finally! Girl, we've been waiting for this day! Break out the liquor, B! We are celebrating! No more dead weight, no more stressing over that man-child! Tonight, we celebrate freedom!" Bianca, her initial shock giving way to a broad, beaming smile, was already heading to the mini-fridge, pulling out the alcoholic drinks they kept for "special occasions." This, it seemed, was one of them.

Jordyn felt a sudden wave of overwhelm. Her bed was drowning under dresses and pieces of clothing she didn't even remember owning, each one a silent judgment. Maybe this was a bad idea. She had just broken up with Adonis. It was still so fresh. What would people think if she showed up at a party without him? The familiar anxieties began to creep back in. "I'm not going!" Jordyn yelled, the words laced with frustration.

Trinity, always one step ahead, burst through the doorway of Jordyn's room, a knowing smirk on her face. "I knew she was gonna do this, B! Bring in the options!"

Bianca re-emerged with three hangers draped with clothes. "Alright, Jordy, we have three options, and you better choose one," Bianca declared, a playful but firm glint in her eyes. As if they were on a reality TV show, Trinity began narrating while Bianca held up the outfits. "Option one," Trinity announced, "is a short blue bodycon dress with black strappy heels that accentuates and lifts all the right curves that attract the right attention and might have you leaving the night with a special friend."

Jordyn loved the color blue and the dress itself, but the heels were a hard no. Que parties were known for getting a little rowdy; she needed to be comfortable, yet still undeniably sexy.

"Okay," Trinity continued, unfazed, "Option number two is a pair of baggy cargo jeans, with a white bodysuit and Panda Dunks. Not as striking as one, but still guaranteed to have you leaving the night not alone."

Jordyn couldn't help but laugh. "Are you getting the theme here, Jordy?" Trinity asked, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Yes, you want me to go home with someone... But Trinity, that won't be happening. Tonight is about having fun and just being with my girls."

"Well then, bitch... here is option number three," Trinity declared, and without needing the description, Jordyn knew this was it. The black tennis skirt would provide her with the comfort to move, but still accentuate her caramel legs. The ripped Aaliyah shirt, with metal chains around the cleavage area, dipped low enough to provide some cleavage but was baggy enough to hide her most insecure spots. The Air Jordan Retro 1s provided a more ladylike feel while also being perfectly comfortable. "I will take that one," Jordyn said, reaching out to grab the outfit from Bianca.

"Told you she would pick three," Bianca said, handing Trinity option two and taking option one with her. "Okay, perfect, it is now 9:30. I'm giving you all an hour to get ready, and then we are heading out."

"Ayayay, Captain," Jordyn and Bianca chorused, already moving with renewed purpose to get ready for the night.

The thumping bass vibrated through the ground, growing louder with every step the three girls took towards the Omega house. Neon lights pulsed rhythmically through the windows, painting the night air with electric hues. The scent of sweat, cheap cologne, and something sweet and illicit hung heavy in the warm Florida air. Trinity and Bianca practically bounced with anticipation, their laughter echoing the general revelry that spilled from the front door.

Jordyn, however, couldn't shake a knot of nervousness in her stomach. Despite her friends' infectious excitement, a wave of apprehension washed over her. She adjusted the strap of her small bag, her eyes scanning the growing crowd. It felt like walking onto a stage where she was suddenly missing her co-star. She had been "Adonis's girlfriend" for so long; what would people think of her showing up alone? The thought was a sharp pang, cutting through the excitement. This was supposed to be about celebrating her freedom, but the weight of perceived judgment, the fresh wound of her breakup, still clung to her. She took a deep breath, trying to push the feelings down. Tonight, she vowed, would be different. Tonight, she was just Jordyn.

Once the liquor started to flow, all of Jordyn's concerns dissolved into the vibrant energy of the party. She embraced the moment with her girls, laughing louder, dancing in the middle of the floor with reckless abandon and no shame. She even found herself genuinely socializing with other classmates, something she hadn't truly done in ages. The laughter came easier now, a genuine, unrestrained sound that filled her. It made her wonder what she truly missed out on by being so faithful to someone who couldn't have cared less for her. Dancing bodies and booming music helped her lose all track of time, completely immersed in the joy of the night, until her throat was a little too dry, and she felt the overwhelming need to get away from the immediate crush of the crowd, to breathe.

She found Bianca and Trinity standing to the side of the dance floor, surrounded by more of their friends, laughing and vibing. "Hey, I'm going outside for a moment," she told them, raising her voice slightly over the music, trying to convey that she was okay, just needed some fresh air. Reluctantly, the girls let her go, making sure she knew they were there for her if she needed to go home. She was grateful for her girls, but right now she just needed a moment to be alone. She followed the path to the sliding door that led outside. Trying to find solace in the night, she used the string of Christmas lights that lined the path to lead her to a little sitting area a couple of feet away from the house. She took in a huge breath and looked up at the sky, releasing everything as she counted backward.

"Putting your hand on your chest helps ground you a bit." A voice, smooth as dark chocolate, broke the silence surrounding her. "Oh fuck," Jordyn yelled, startled, as she came face to face with the owner of the voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the voice said as it came into the light, first revealing strong arms adorned with intricate tribal tattoos. "No, it's ok, just thought I was alone," she replied, anticipating the face of the stranger she was standing in front of. She was taken by surprise when familiar, deep brown puppy eyes stared back at her, followed by a smile revealing a bottom row of fanged golds and a brown mullet haircut. Joshua.

Jordyn felt a wave of familiar mortification wash over her. Again. She had another panic attack, another moment of raw vulnerability, and again, it, was in front of Joshua Fatu. He, the brusque, unexpectedly insightful tutor, had now seen her at her most unhinged twice. Yet, as his smile faded slightly, replaced by an almost imperceptible concern in his deep brown eyes, she realized something profound. He wasn't judging her. He wasn't laughing or dismissing her. He was simply there, offering a quiet, steady presence. The thought was both unsettling and strangely comforting.

She took another shaky breath, the residual adrenaline trembling through her. "No, really, it's okay," she repeated, this time with more conviction, looking directly at him. Her gaze hardened slightly as a different thought occurred to her, a rare moment of empathy cutting through her own turmoil, tinged with a familiar resentment. "You know, about Adonis..." she began, her voice a little softer, seeing a subtle shift in Joshua's posture. "I know... you probably already knew." She wasn't asking for his sympathy, but offering a quiet understanding, a bridge built on the shared truth of Adonis's character. She saw the flash of surprise in his eyes, quickly masked, as if he hadn't expected her to bring it up, much less to him. It was an unspoken acknowledgment, a shared secret about the 'campus celebrity' that suddenly, subtly, drew them closer.

Joshua's expression flickered, a momentary struggle playing across his features. His brow furrowed, the light from the Christmas lights catching the glint of his fanged golds as he considered her words. "Knew... what exactly?" he asked, his voice low, almost guarded, a hint of his usual guardedness returning.

Jordyn met his gaze directly, a challenging glint in her eye. "Knew he was... seeing other people. Or, at least, that he wasn't who he pretended to be. It's not like he was subtle, was he? I'm sure you, of all people, would have seen it. Everyone on campus knew. But, you know, we've never really talked about anything other than physics, have we?" She watched him, waiting, a part of her still daring him to deny it, to be as fake as Adonis.

He let out a short, humorless breath that was almost a snort. "It's not exactly a secret, Jordyn. Adonis has a habit of... collecting. And discarding." The disdain in his voice was clear, unfiltered, and for a moment, they were on the same page, sharing a mutual dislike. He crossed his arms, leaning against the railing beside them, his eyes briefly sweeping the lively house. "It was only a matter of time before it caught up to him. Or, rather, to you. I just figured you were... comfortable with the arrangement. You seemed to have it all figured out, always by his side. Not much for a guy like me to say, was there? We don't exactly chat." The last jab was subtle, but it landed, reminding her of his initial, harsh assessment of her, and highlighting their lack of prior genuine interaction.

"Comfortable?" Jordyn scoffed, bristling, the resentment flaring. "You really think I'd be 'comfortable' with being played? What does that even mean?" Her voice rose slightly, defensive. "And what exactly were you doing, just watching the whole spectacle play out? If you 'knew,' why didn't you say anything? Or were you just enjoying the show?"

Joshua turned back to her, his gaze unwavering, a raw intensity in his deep brown eyes that cut through her anger. He pushed off the railing and sat down on the edge of the low stone wall that bordered the sitting area. "What was I supposed to do? Blow up his spot while you were still riding his coattails, pretending everything was perfect? You wouldn't have believed me anyway. You were too deep in it." His words were blunt, uncomfortably honest, and they struck a nerve. He motioned subtly for her to sit opposite him on the small bench. "But... seeing you like that... it was different. You don't deserve that kind of disrespect. You're... better than that."

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Jordyn stated, her voice still carrying a sharp edge despite the underlying exhaustion. "I broke up with Adonis. Not that it would matter to you." She finished the statement, a defiant tilt to her chin, just as the sliding door to the kitchen burst open behind them.

Adonis stood framed in the doorway, his eyes, dark and furious, immediately locking onto Jordyn and then, with a flash of possessive rage, on Joshua. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the balmy night. "What the hell are you doing out here with him?!" His voice cut through the faint party hum, thick with accusation. Joshua remained still, his expression unreadable, but the subtle clench of his jaw told Jordyn he was far from oblivious.

"I came outside to breathe and he just happened to be here," she said, pointing at Joshua, her voice regaining its earlier fire. "Not that I have to explain anything to you... let me repeat it, YOU AND I ARE OVER!" She started to walk back towards the house, determined to put distance between them.

"You think you can get back at me by sleeping with the failed Fatu?" Adonis's mocking call reached her, dripping with venom.

A sharp, defiant chuckle filled the space, and to Adonis's astonishment, it was Jordyn's. "That would be an upgrade, Adonis."

Joshua looked up at the night sky, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips, hiding a laugh behind his hands.

Jordyn took another step, attempting to walk away again, when Adonis lunged forward, grabbing her wrist with a harsh grip. "Don't walk away from me!" Adonis yelled, pulling Jordyn roughly back towards him, his face contorted with fury.

"Let me go, Adonis!" she yelled back, twisting against his grasp.

Adonis's grunt broke her concentration; his wrist felt light, suddenly free, as she noticed Adonis on the floor. Joshua stood over him, hands balled into fists, jaw tight, his broad shoulders almost vibrating with controlled fury. "Don't put your hands on her," he enunciated, each word dripping with an icy menace that sent a shiver down Jordyn's spine. A fire consumed his usually innocent-looking eyes, burning with a ferocity she hadn't seen before.

"Fatu, you better count your days," Adonis yelled, wiping the side of his mouth as he slowly pushed himself up.

"Or what, Adonis?" a deep voice boomed from over their shoulder. Jordyn felt his presence before she could even see him. Joseph, the captain of the team, and Joshua's older cousin, strode over to the group, a natural authority radiating from him. He clapped Joshua firmly on the shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of his restraint, then slowly walked over to Jordyn. "You good?" he asked her, his concern genuine in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she responded, a little shaken but holding herself together.

Joseph then turned his full attention to Adonis, towering over him. "Adonis, we all know you never truly respected Jordyn," he stated, his voice calm but lethal. "You have used her like a toy for years, we have all been witnesses to it and have even told you to back off." Adonis's anger radiated from his body, shooting out of his eyes, but Joseph simply laughed, a low, dismissive sound. "You know you don't scare me, bro. Plus, remember, I am the captain, not you."

"Hey sis....you want to head home?" Bianca asked Jordyn, breaking the small moment between Jordyn and Joshua.

"Yeah..." she responded, still processing the scene that had just unfolded in front of her and the look in Joshua's eyes as his twin brother walked him out.

"Jordy!!!" Adonis yelled, finally managing to get past Montez and Dawkins, who had been trying to hold him back. "If you walk away from me now, I promise you will regret it," he threatened, his voice hoarse with a mix of fury and wounded pride.

She had reached her boiling point. After everything she'd put up with, the countless times she'd diminished herself so that he could shine, he had the nerve to not show one ounce of respect. The anger, months of pent-up frustration and swollen emotions because she had given him grace, finally erupted.

"Adonis, I broke up with you yesterday, and after today, I want to make it unequivocally clear to you," she stated, taking a resolute breath and stepping away from the comforting arms of Bianca. The crowd around them had grown, drawn by the escalating tension, and Jordyn embraced their presence, letting it fuel her. "You and I will never get back together. You will never get to parade me around like some trophy while you continue to treat me like shit behind closed doors." Raw emotion laced her voice as she waved her hands dismissively. "I am done pretending that I was even satisfied. I am done, Adonis. So go, be with the whores you so desperately need to be. I no longer exist to you, so please leave me the FUCK alone!"

With a final, cathartic surge of vindication, she punctuated her message with a sharp, resounding slap across Adonis's face. The sound cracked in the night air, echoing in the stunned silence that followed. Finally feeling truly free, she turned and walked towards the car, Trinity and Bianca following closely behind, their faces a mixture of shock and proud admiration.

Not far from the scene, stood Joshua, Johnathan, Joseph, and Solo, watching the scene unfold. For some strange reason, Joshua felt a sense of pride watching how Jordyn finally stood up for herself and dropped the douche. He caught Johnathan's eye, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them before Joshua looked away, pretending to be nonchalant.

"You think he'll get back in her good graces?" Joseph laughed, a low rumble at the sound of the slap, clearly enjoying Adonis's humiliation.

"Nah, I think she pushed her to the brink, she is done and there is no turning back," Solo says, nodding in agreement.

Johnathan looked over at his brother, Joshua, watching for a reaction to the conversation taking place. Joshua's jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on Jordyn's retreating figure. "Plus, it's official now, dudes are about to come out of the woodwork just to get one chance with her," Johnathan added, almost teasingly, watching as his twin's jaw visibly tensed at the words leaving his mouth. Now that it was public, was Jordyn about to be flooded with suitors who probably still did not suit her? Joshua only grunted in response, but his eyes, usually so easygoing, held a sudden, sharp glint as he watched her disappear from view. It wasn't just satisfaction; there was a possessiveness there, an unacknowledged spark of something new and inconveniently intriguing, a feeling he was still very much hiding from himself and everyone else. Everyone else was clueless to it, but Johnathan knew his brother well enough to recognize the subtle shift. He just watched Joshua, a knowing smirk playing on his own lips, a silent message that he saw past the casual front. Joshua, though, would never admit it, not even to himself.

The ride home was a whirlwind of triumphant cheers from Trinity and Bianca, replaying Jordyn's epic mic drop moment and the satisfying smack that followed. Jordyn listened, a strange mix of exhilaration and lingering exhaustion washing over her. The adrenaline slowly receded, leaving her feeling both utterly drained and remarkably light. By the time they pulled into their driveway, the cool night air was a welcome balm. They tumbled out of the car, tired but unified.

Jordyn unlocked the front door of their house, the silence inside a stark contrast to the thumping bass they'd just left behind. She kicked off her Jordans, letting them fall with a soft thud, and padded straight to her room. The dim light filtering in from the streetlights outside was enough to guide her. She shed her clothes, letting them pool on the floor, and pulled on an oversized t-shirt. With a sigh that was half exhaustion and half quiet relief, she sank into the soft comfort of her bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, the faint scent of stale party air and something else, something subtly masculine she couldn't quite place, clinging to her. Sleep wasn't immediate; her mind still buzzed with the echoes of the night – Adonis's rage, her own defiant words, and the surprising, intense glint in Joshua's eyes. But as she drifted closer to slumber, a sense of something new, something possible, settled over her, a quiet anticipation for whatever tomorrow might bring.

S/O to the inspiring writers on this platform who have encouraged me to write just for me @spiicii, @whatdoeseverybodywant, @oddinary4bts @kithtaehyung @here2bbtstrash @charmed-dreamssss @zillasvilla @msbigredmachine @trippiexlove @wrestlingprincess80 and the many others