#also i'm not saying it's okay i'm saying i get it and also she didn't cheat stop saying she cheated

[xhda1449x]

okay so I have Opinions TM about this because. well. am asexual. know asexual people. Been Like That before.

I had a friend. She's not my friend anymore. One of the reasons why is that she was a very sex negative asexual. Not repulsed, negative. Sex negative means Against It As A Concept. Repulsed means "ew, I really don't want to hear about any of it and I'm kinda disgusted by the way sexual attraction seems to run the world but yknow, that's me, y'all do you", right. It's a different thing. Some aces don't understand that.

I've known aces who think it's the identity for sex negativity. Aces who are attracted to people in an allo way (!!!) but think sex is gross. The friend I had was like that. Afaik she just... hated men so much she decided that wanting sex with women As A Guy is disgusting behavior so all sex is like that. Because she'd only use the "sex repulsed" card when interacting with guys. Because she was a lesbian and identified as such. Now yeah there are ace lesbians. I've also known a few of those. But that's not the point, the point is that so many people who don't want to have conventional PiV sex find the ace label and think it's for them.

Now uhhh my personal experience with the sex negativity excused as being sex repulsed mindset. So I have ocd. something most people around me know about. Over the years of Me Having It (so like... since I was 8 ig) it manifested in different ways. One of the most annoying intrusive thoughts I'd dealt with was just... my friends, my family members, in sexual situations. Not with me, just kinda... abstract, I guess, but one time I had a wholeass flashback because my friend told me he did indeed sleep with his girlfriend regularly so that's something. It's not really fun, imagining your two platonic-and-nothing-else friends Having Sex In Your Head and not being able to stop it. Also yeahhh the trauma def played a role too. Like, that's most likely what triggered me to Have OCD in the first place, and it took me a long time to get over that (mostly because I couldn't really tell anyone about it. I'm not gonna get into details but let's just say people don't really like to think that a young girl could hurt someone like that).

So now I'm in a relationship. First I've ever had. And I had to deal with Everything by being thrown head first into it. The first year was Hard, with another aspect of the ocd (it's always the ocd) being that I'd question my identity a lot. Sure I was dating someone but I was still ace because I didn't want to have sex with them right? Sure I don't mind the thought but I'm still ace because I wouldn't do it irl? SURE I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF DOING IT IRL BUT I'M STILL ACE, RIGHT, ACES CAN HAVE SEX?????? on top of dealing with Gender Questioning, too. Fun times!!!

But uh. yeah. turns out that I needed some help processing the trauma and now I'm like... the kink-cyclopedia for my friends or something. Like the person in the tags said, it's mostly theoretical. And funny thing is I've Been Like This even when I was a teenager!!! But I both pushed it down because That's Not How Aces Are and overplayed it because I wanted my friends to like me and at the time it seemed as if their only interest was Talking About Sex (idk, teenagers can be like that sometimes, or it can feel that way if you don't relate).

Anyway, yeah. For anyone who's like this (thinking ace is the label for sexual trauma survivors; thinking you're ace because you don't want sex; thinking being ace means being above sexual desires and that somehow making you better than everyone else), I've been there. And it was miserable. I'm still ace, because guess what, I'm still not sexually attracted to anyone besides maybe my partner and even then I'm not sure. But like... the reason why puritans are miserable isn't just because they're all horny and repressed. Building your whole identity on top of Hating Something will always make you miserable. Try to avoid that if you can.

I am both.

[bloggerspam]

Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"

[mocchii-writes]

do you write for dae ho (squid game)? if so can you do one of him getting jealous but instead of being angry he just does dumb stuff to get the readers attention on him (like a little kid trying to show his mum a cool trick)

Paring: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Warnings: none! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A/n: This is so Daisuke coded- anyways, I hope hcs work, this has been sitting in my req, and I didn't want to make u wait anymore ♡♡

~🍡🍡

Dae-ho seems like the type to get jealous for sure

Whether it's a friend you're talking to, or literally some stranger

But I don't think he'd get excessive with it, nor mad at you obviously

He tends to just feel small and insecure

So, he'd do things to grab your attention

'cuz he lovessss your attention!!

He would start with simple things, maybe surprising you with a task he did for you, or he'd bring you a treat, like candy or maybe chips you like

But usually, you don't get the memo :<

So, he resorts to doing things

Pretty stupid things, if I might say

You could be out at a park, talking to someone else and you suddenly hear your name

You look over n he's just like

"Watch me do this backflip!!"

"What? Dae-ho get down from there! You can't even do a backflip???"

He'll end up getting injured regardless

But when you help patch him up, he doesn't regret a thing

"Why did you do that? That was stupid, and you know it."

"I dunno..."

"Dae-ho."

Then he would totally spill and ramble about how you weren't talking to him, and he thought you didn't like him, and he thought he would look cool, and you're like oh...

Just please please give him attention and reassurance because he needs it

my poor baby :'<

He probably wouldn't stop doing it, though

I mean, it worked the first time, didn't it

And you both know it'll keep working, no matter how much you complain to him as you wipe the scrapes on his elbow

He would also say stupid things, tryna impress the guy talking to you

"Yeah, I'm a marine. No big deal or whatever."

"Uh okay"

"And I've wrested 3 bears with no weapons. And won." >:)

"..?"

Sometimes, when you do pick up on it, it's pretty funny to mess with Dae-ho

Just like, agree with him

"Mhmm I was there."

"Uh YEAH. She was there!"

"Why was she there...?"

"I was the bear."

The look he gives you is astronomically funny

The guy walks away, and he's upset like why would you embarrass him like that

You're like "bro."

But you're sure to give him extra cuddles as an apology

He's just a little puppy :<

[redeemingvillains]

of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ I have the tiniest little epilogue that I'll post soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part One

Part Two

Part Three:

After the confrontation at your house a night prior, JJ had only been able to see red, quickly pacing past your mum before making his way to the Chateau, kicking over some bins and verbally abusing some kids on his way.

He couldn't believe that you liked him. That you wanted to be with him. The thought stressed him out and made him regret doing whatever he'd done to get you to fall for him.

It wasn't that he didn't like you back. In fact it was quite the opposite - he'd been entirely obsessed with you ever since you'd arrived in the Outer Banks. His issue was that he'd seen up close just how damaged you were, just how sweet and kind you could be, just how much you deserved the world and everything in it - but not him. He wasn't good enough; not cool enough, not smart enough, not clean enough.

"Why him?" He thought. "Of everyone on this island, why him?"

You could've gone for Pope or John B or even one of the Kooks, at least they would treat you right. It might've killed him inside to see, but it would've been better than the pain he was feeling now, knowing that he'd been unintentionally hurting you this whole time, knowing that he was the one who bore the responsibility of your heart.

He stormed into John B's without stopping, going straight for the blunt in the ashtray and then storming back outside. From his behaviour, the Pogues feared for the worst and Kie's eyes were quickly tearing up, panic settling into her chest.

"She's okay, isn't she?" She followed JJ outside in a pleading tone, shortly followed by Pope and John B. "Please say she's okay."

JJ didn't answer, angrily sucking on the blunt and staring out at the sea, his mind racing.

"Answer me JJ! What's happened?" Kie demanded.

"Is she alright? Was she at home?" Pope questioned.

"JJ- fucking answer us man! Is she at the hospital? Is she- is she okay?" John B shouted.

JJ took another sharp drag on the blunt before solemnly answering.

"She's fine. I mean, she's not, but she's alive."

Kie shoved him with some frustration, her tears quickly drying up but her teeth gritting.

"Why the hell would you scare us like that? What happened?"

"We had an argument... I- You were right Kie. It is my fault."

She blinked incredulously, double taking as she tried to suss out what was wrong with the boy.

"What are you talking about?" She questioned angrily.

He took another sharp drag, even sharper this time, ran his hand through his hair and then turned to the Pogues with exasperation.

"Y/N likes me! And I've been a fucking idiot to not see it. I shouldn't have rubbed all those girls in her face. I didn't think she cared, but.. I guess she did."

"So you're saying that like it's a bad thing. I thought you liked her too." John B proclaimed in a confused tone, shooting a look to Pope who had also been aware of JJ's crush.

Kie was kicking herself for not picking up on that, wishing she’d known and she could’ve told you weeks ago - before you even had the chance to get depressed and pick up a pill again. But she didn’t focus on that thought for too long, more focused on your current wellbeing.

"I do, I just- We all know I'm a piece of shit, okay? I don't deserve someone like her. Hopefully she sees that now." JJ tutted, his eyes darting between each of the Pogues.

The uncertainty of his statement made them all nervous. 'Hopefully she sees that now' - what the hell did that mean?

"What do you mean? What did you do?" Kie hissed, her heart in her throat.

"Nothing! I was just rude. I guess I rejected her. Called her a junkie-"

Kie hit him again, seething with the boy at that point.

"What is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you do that?" She snapped, grabbing the blunt from his hand and throwing it onto the floor. "Go back there now and tell her you love her! She's probably crying her heart out right now."

JJ shook his head, thinking about picking up the blunt from the ground but not bothering. Weed wasn't strong enough to make him feel better anyway. He wanted to follow Kie's instruction, he wanted to hold you and tell you his truth, but he could think of too many reasons why not to - too many reasons why you were better off without him. The rejection may hurt now but you would get over it. You had plenty of other options. You would get sober again and you would be fine. His issue was that whether he was sober or not, he was never fine.

"Being with me would only fuck up her life more and you all know that! You should just convince her to like someone else, someone whose good for her. I can't do this." JJ protested.

"You're not a bad guy, man. Come on." John B said but JJ just shook his head again, walking towards his motorbike.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Pope scoffed as JJ got onto the bike.

"I told her to turn on her phone. Try calling her again." He said numbly before kick starting the bike and speeding off.

Kie groaned, unsurprised that when she called your phone moments later it didn't go through. She sat melancholically next to Pope, leaning on his shoulder whilst John B stressfully kicked a stick around.

"Well that's not what I was expecting." Pope sighed and then turned to Kie. "How long has Y/N been crushing on JJ exactly?"

She shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know. Forever. But that doesn't matter anyway. I'm worried. It must've taken a lot for her to admit that she likes him, so she's either really manic or.."

"Really high." John B finished her sentence, not looking up from the ground.

"How much do you want to bet it's the second one?" Pope groaned.

"I just don't get why she didn't talk to me if JJ was upsetting her this much. She promised us she'd never use again. She's never broken a promise before." Kie sighed and then stood up. "I'm gonna go to hers. I'm annoyed but.. I'm more worried than anything. I wonder if her mum has clocked on yet… I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

"Love that woman but she's clueless so I doubt it." John B scoffed dryly. "See you tomorrow Kie."

Kie picked up her bike and rode it to your house, her mind racing with all the possibilities of what you could be doing.

"Most likely passed out or crying." She thought, her chest aching as she thought of your pain. You'd been through a lot together, and though she was beyond frustrated with your relapse, she wouldn't stop being your friend because of it.

When Kie eventually knocked on your door, your mum was surprised to open it to her.

"Isn't Y/N at yours? That's where she said she was going. JJ upset her quite a bit earlier." Your mum questioned and Kie was quick to catch on to the lie.

"Oh yeah- yeah she is. She's just so upset right now. She forgot some stuff and I said I would come and get it for her."

"You're so lovely Kie. What would she do without you?" Your mum smiled, letting her in.

When Kie went up to your bedroom and picked up a bag to strengthen her lie, she was concerned to see that your phone was still on your bed. Wherever you'd gone, you hadn't brought it. She turned on the phone in hope that it would give some clue as to where you could be, but all that came through were the missed calls and messages from the Pogues.

Kie couldn't let herself panic though. You were grown enough to look after yourself.

"Maybe she just went on a walk. Or a bike ride even. That's most likely. She probably just went to clear her head. I'll try again tomorrow." Kie thought to herself, but she took the phone anyway, hoping that when you came back you would have to come get it off her. She scrawled a note onto your mirror with an eyeliner from the side; "Got ur phone. P4L. - K"

The next day, Kie waited until the afternoon to leave her house, waiting for your knock on the door that never came. She decided that she would go back to your house and confront you there, but when she arrived there was no one inside. Your mum would be at work - that made sense - but after pounding on your door loud enough to wake you up from whatever slumber you might be in and getting no answer, she started to panic.

All of the worst possibilities sprung into her head - a horrific vision of you overdosed and alone, bent over the toilet and throwing up uncontrollably or even passed out and foaming at the mouth - so she quickly rushed to find the spare key under one of the many plant pots and slammed it into the door. She ran up the stairs, loudly repeating your name as she did, and paced into your room.

"Y/N, please be okay." She said before opening the door, her heart dropping when you weren't in the bed.

Nothing in the room had moved, not the crumpled up bedding, the pile of clothes in the corner nor the note on the mirror. You hadn't come back.

"Shit. Where the fuck is she?" She muttered to herself before pacing around the house, desperately searching for you but finding nothing. "Need to find her."

Now her mind raced to even darker corners. Perhaps you'd fallen into one of the many bodies of water on the island, high and uncoordinated, and drowned. Or maybe you'd crashed your bike into an oncoming vehicle. Maybe you'd passed out somewhere and someone had called an ambulance, or maybe you’d put yourself in danger without even realising it. She had no idea how spot on she was with the last prediction.

Kie had told Pope of her plan to force you to come to hers by keeping your phone, and all of the boys had assumed that the confrontation had been over and done with by that point, so they were confused when she turned up at the Chateau without you.

"Did you speak to YN?" JJ asked, springing up from his seat as soon as he spotted Kie.

He'd hardly slept, tossing around in his bed all night as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to you but couldn't. "It was better this way." He tried to convince himself "She's better off thinking I don't want her. Maybe she didn't even mean what she said. Maybe she was just high." He couldn't push the image of him holding you and loving you from his head though.

"No. She never came to mine." Kie huffed, wheeling her bike over with furrowed brows. "And before you ask - yes I went to hers, she's not there. Doesn't look like she's been home at all since I went there last night."

"So where is she?" John B questioned, his posture tightening.

"Do I look like I know?" Kie snapped. "I'm seriously worried."

"Shit." JJ hissed, instantly jumping into a panic. He was quick and erratic. "Okay. We should all split up and look for her. I'll check the marsh and the forest, Kie you should check figure eight, Pope you check town, and John B you take the boat and check the waters. Report back here in two hours."

He rushed towards his motorbike before anyone could even answer, but stopped in his tracks when Pope suggested a disheartening idea. It was an idea that had occurred to both John B and Kie as soon as JJ had announced his plan, though it didn’t surprise them that he didn’t think of it. He was someone who always lived in a somewhat state of denial.

"Don't you think one of us should check the hospital too? You know, just in case."

JJ swallowed, catching the lump in his throat before it could properly form, and nodded.

"Y-Yeah. You do that." He said without turning around. He wanted to argue - to say that the idea was ridiculous and a waste of time - but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Pope might be right, and if he was... JJ had to cut his thoughts off before they got too hard to bare. He jumped onto his bike and sped off, heading straight to the marshes.

His search was obviously fruitless. He waded through knee high mud and lifted up heavy logs. He dug through thick bushes and climbed up trees. He shouted your name at the top of his lungs and prayed to God that you would appear.

But none of it worked.

By time the two hour mark had hit, he'd searched miles of forestry and worked up quite a sweat. Still, he wouldn't stop until he knew you were safe.

"Maybe one of the others have found her." He thought desperately to himself, jumping on his bike and heading back to the Chateau. They'd all tried to convince themselves with the same hopeful thought and been sorely disappointed when they eventually returned to their friends. JJ was the last to arrive.

"Any luck?" He shouted from his bike before he'd even got off it, springing across the lawn.

The rest of the Pogues were stood in a circle, also damp with sweat and breathing heavily. They looked upset which was understandable given the situation, but JJ felt his heart jump into his throat as he worried that the unimaginable had happened.

"Pope! She wasn't in the hospital, was she?" He asked with urgency, pacing over to the boy.

Pope was breathing heavily, still catching his breath from the run back to the Chateau.

"Pope!" JJ repeated in an almost shout, shaking his friends shoulders.

"No- No." Pope panted out.

"Chill, JJ. None of us had any luck." John B patted him on the back with a sympathetic look.

It didn't calm him down though. Instead he started to anxiously pace, running his hands through his hair and repeating to himself "Think, JJ. Think!"

"She might just be at someone's house. Who knows, she could be having a great time right now while we're thinking the worst." John B suggested which Kie rolled her eyes at.

"The only people she’d ever hang out with other than us are druggie degenerates, so it's not exactly great if she's with them either. Those people wouldn't care if she was on the floor foaming at the mouth."

"Well I don't know what you want me to suggest, Kie! We've looked everywhere else. Should we start banging on the doors of every junkie we know? Because that could take a while!"

As John B and Kie bickered, JJ continued his pacing, racking his mind for ideas until one shot into his head like a bullet.

"Wait-Wait. What did you just say?" He turned to his arguing friends.

"That she's probably with some drugged up degenerate?" John B answered in a sarcastic tone.

"That's it! She's probably at her dealers house. And I know only one scum bag who sells that prescription shit."

JJ ran back to his bike without saying another word, ignoring the questions from the Pogues as he kick started it and sped off - some hope finally in his mind though it was still mostly clouded by worry.

"Should we follow him?" Pope asked.

"Probably." Kie answered, heading towards the Twinkie with a sigh.

It was ten minutes later that JJ pulled up by Barry's house, carefully parking his bike around the corner so that the dealer wouldn't see him. They'd had their fair share of arguments already about JJ's dad and due to this JJ knew that he had a gun. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught on his property.

The blonde paced through the overgrown front lawn and almost jumped for joy when he saw your bike strewn lazily into one of the bushes - the signature ugly green paint instantly catching his eye. You would just be sat on the sofa smoking a joint or something. He could knock on the door, distract Barry without getting shot somehow and get you out of there in no time.

Then the sound of a large vehicle coming towards the house reached his ears, and he quickly ducked around the corner and crouched under one of the windows, anxious to not be caught by one of Barry's customers either. They typically weren't the most reasonable people after all. He was relieved with his decision when Rafe Cameron jumped out of the truck, music blaring and obnoxiously announcing himself as he knocked loudly on the front door.

JJ's ear pricked as he heard Barry's voice from inside, not having realised that the window on the wall above his head was open.

"Shit." The dealer tutted, followed by the sound of a zip. "Why now?"

Barry's breathing was heavy, like he'd been doing exercise, and it peaked JJ's curiosity. Was he working out whilst you watched from the sofa? That would be fucking weird. There was no way you would be lifting weights with him.

JJ listened carefully, waiting for the sound of the front door to open and the start of a passive aggressive conversation between the two men before he stood up and looked in the window. If either of them caught him, that would be a lot of trouble.

He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw through the glass though.

The sound of the zip suddenly made sense, and the heavy breathing. You were there, lying in an unmade bed, stripped naked and seemingly asleep. Even unconscious your face looked so sad and your body looked tired; thin, with random bruises scattered about your limbs and dirty looking hickies on your chest.

Had you let Barry do this? Surely not. Surely you had more self respect than that.

The thought of any other man touching you was enough to make JJ feel upset, let alone a scumbag dealer that he knew you would never have any real feelings for. But then it dawned onto him - that if you hadn't wanted Barry to have sex with you, that didn't make it any better. In fact, it made it a whole lot worse.

It meant that... you'd been tricked or forced or coerced in some way. It meant that you'd been raped. And maybe you didn't even know it. Maybe you were so knocked out that you would have no idea what Barry had done. Maybe he had drugged you on purpose so that he could do it.

JJ's blood boiled, so much so that he felt himself getting physically hotter, his teeth grinding and his fists clenching. He tapped on the window, hoping to get a response from you, but you stayed stiff and still, your eyes closed and your breathing shallow.

How much had you taken? Had he given you something too strong? Did the dealer even know if you were on the boundary of never waking up? Did he care? Either way, there was no way you could've rightfully consented to doing anything sexual with anyone. Not when you were clearly out cold.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." JJ hissed to himself, trying to quickly brainstorm a way to get you out of there without getting killed by Rafe or Barry.

He pulled out his phone and went to text John B before remembering that he'd ran out of data, cursing himself for not paying his bill once again. Then he decided to creep around the back and listen in through another window, hoping that he'd overhear something to help with his plan. All that he heard didn't serve to help though, in fact it made his rage all the more fiery and his brain even less able to come up with a good idea. The desperation was becoming torturous.

"Where's Y/L/N then? I can see her ugly ass bike out the front." Rafe asked in a mocking tone.

"She's in bed, sleeping. What's it to you country club?" Barry answered.

Rafe scoffed. "I caught you mid fuck didn't I? Sorry for being a cock block bro. Can't say I'm not jealous. Bet she's a total freak in the sheets."

JJ could practically hear the smug smirk on Barry's face.

"Yeah, tits like you've never seen. And pussy like a vice grip. You wanna come take a look? She's out cold."

"You already know my answer to that, bro." Rafe chuckled.

JJ's eyes widened, a deep panic settling into his chest. You would be mortified to know that Rafe Cameron had been ogling your exposed form, let alone the potential that Barry might actually let him sleep with you. He ran back around to the other window and banged on it one more time in hopes of waking you up before quickly ducking down again just as the two men entered the room. He couldn't stay down and listen to their crass remarks this time, he couldn't bare it. He had to cause a distraction.

With a rush of inspiration, he picked up a rock and lobbed it at Rafe's truck, creating a loud thud as it dented the exterior. The two degenerates stormed outside at that and JJ heard the sound of a gun clicking.

"What the fuck was that?" Barry muttered whilst Rafe angrily proclaimed "Something dented my ride!"

"If there's anybody out there, you better come out now!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the vacant lot of overgrown swampland.

Then right on cue, the Twinkie pulled around the corner, a very confused looking John B in the drivers seat with Kie and Pope sat behind him. Rafe scoffed something bigoted about the Pogues before stamping over to the van, knocking so hard on the window that he was almost punching it. JJ would've been glad for his friends arrival if not for the pistol in Barry's hand.

"You dented my fucking car. Get the fuck out here!" Rafe demanded as Kie slid open the door, pacing at him with a scowl.

"We didn't do shit to your car. Now where the fuck is Y/N?"

"Didn't do shit? Look at the dent! You're paying for this Kie - since I know you're the only one with any money."

"I'm not paying for something I didn't do. Now tell me where my friend is. I can see her bike there and I swear to god if either of you have hurt her-"

"What are you gonna do? Huh?" Rafe cut her off with an intimidating smirk, stepping so that he was inches from her face. "You can't do shit."

Pope jumped out of the van and quickly got in between them, his nostrils flaring as he eyed the sociopath. John B quickly jumped out too, though before he could open his mouth to say anything Barry had cocked the gun and pointed it at the trio.

"Y/N ain't here. She bought her pills and wondered off into the marsh. Left her bike behind. Now if you want to find her before the gators do, you lot best be on your way."

No one moved an inch, horrified by the revelation of Barry's statement.

"And you just let her go? What is wrong with you? She could be dead!" Pope hissed, an unexpected volume to his voice.

JJ could no longer sit and silently listen knowing that his friends were about to embark on another wild goose chase. You were there, mere feet away. This was their best opportunity to do something before anything else could happen to you.

Feeling that the dealer was sufficiently distracted, JJ decided to fully open the window and climb inside, struggling slightly with the old frame as he pushed it up. Once he was in, he instantly rushed to your side, gently shaking your shoulder in an attempt to wake you up again.

"Y/N it's me. We've got to go." He whispered, only getting a groan back from you.

Your hair was splayed messily around your face like the petals of a flower, making him think to the mornings he'd spent with you in the past. How he'd woken up beside you after a night of drinking and wanted to kiss you, but held himself back in fear that you would find it weird. That you would remind him that you were only friends with the occasional benefit. That you'd laugh in his face. If only he'd known how wrong he was.

Perhaps he didn't deserve you, but if being by yourself meant that you were going to do this to yourself... he would have to fight until the end of the earth to be with you.

In that moment, he regretted so many of his past actions. From the random girls he'd kissed in front of you to his recent rejection of you, he knew that once you were safe and awake he would do anything and everything to take it all back.

You would be his. No one else's... This could never happen again. No one other than him would touch you. He wouldn't allow it.

He looked around the room in a panic, picking up your shirt from the floor and lifting your head so that he could pull it over your body. Your body weight was resisting his actions, dead and heavy, but when he found your underwear and started to pull them up your legs, you finally flinched awake - even if it was only slightly.

"No Barry. Not again." You mumbled, lifting your leg to kick him away.

"It's me - JJ. We're gonna get you out of here." He said quietly, pulling your panties up so that you were covered and then slipping his arms underneath you to hoist you up bridal style.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, your heart jumping into your throat.

"JJ?" You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"It's me baby. It's me." He repeated in a hushed tone. "You're safe now."

Then he heard the sound of the van starting outside and knew that he had to be faster. He looked around the room for a weapon and was pleased when he spotted a shotgun leant against the wardrobe, an idea springing into his head. He quickly put you back down on the bed.

"No. No. Don't leave me." You choked out, your breathing becoming rapid with panic. It broke JJ's heart to hear.

"I'll be two seconds. I promise you'll be okay." He mustered the softest tone that he could, stroking your face and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead before picking up the gun and charging out of the room.

As soon as you were out of his sight, his bubbling anger returned. No longer would he be able to put on a calm front, that time had ran out. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his skin went hot again, thinking of the vile words he'd overheard.

He pumped the gun one time, making sure it was loaded, and then slammed open the front door, quickly drawing the attention of the bickering degenerates outside. John B also quickly noticed his friend too, instantly stopping the Twinkie from reversing and jumping out again as he watched JJ in disbelief. The scene moved so quickly that none of the Pogue's were able to immediately process it.

With a cry of anger, JJ lifted the gun above his shoulder and then slammed the butt of it as hard as he could into Barry's head, knocking him out instantly. The dealer fell to the ground and dropped his own gun, and before Rafe could reach for it, JJ pressed the barrel to his chest. Rafe held his hands up in nervous surrender, though it didn't mean much.

"I should fucking kill you both!" JJ shouted. "You fucking piece of shit. You like girls when they're passed out? Huh? You like girls that can't say no?"

"Woah man. Chill. I didn't touch her." Rafe tried to calm him down, his eyes wide with fright. "It was all Barry. I just got here!"

At the realisation of what JJ had alluded to, the three other Pogues ran to join in the confrontation again. They felt sick at the idea that you might've been hurt - especially by two such unsavoury characters.

"Where is she?" Kie shouted, throwing punches into Rafe's side whilst Pope picked up Barry's pistol from the floor and kicked his body a few times.

"Inside." JJ answered through gritted teeth, staring Rafe down and struggling to not pull the trigger. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

Rafe stumbled for a moment, swallowing before he collected himself and answered confidently "I didn't even touch her. Kill me and you’re going away for life! There’s not gonna be any of my DNA on Y/N, I can promise that! I’m not into passed out chicks. That’s all Barry.”

JJ didn’t move for a second, thinking on the boys words before lowering the gun slightly. He would make him suffer another time. In that moment, Barry deserved his attention much more.

"Get the fuck out of here." JJ eventually hissed.

Rafe did exactly that, backing away quickly to his truck and speeding off. The blonde turned his attention to Barry now, who was groaning as he slowly arose from the ground. Without hesitation, JJ bent down to his level and started to throw punches, blinded by fury and bloodlust. His nose cracked first, then his cheekbone, then his eye socket. JJ didn't know how long he'd been attacking him for when he felt John B's touch on his shoulder and heard his voice in his ear. The brunette had found you in the house and lifted you into the Twinkie during JJ’s raging, stood and watched for a moment and then decided to stop his friend, worried for your welfare despite enjoying the show very much.

"Come on JJ, that's enough."

Barry's face was an unrecognisable bloody mess, but he couldn't stop.

"J, you're gonna kill him."

That didn't matter.

"We need to get Y/N out of here. Let's go!"

The sound of your name did halt him. His knuckles were bruised and his chest was panting.

"He raped her, John B. She was passed out in there and naked when I found her!" He turned to his friend with a desperate expression. "We need to kill him."

"I know, I know. But he's not worth the prison sentence, J." John B struggled to bite back his own rage but managed to do so, speaking in a soft tone as he tried to calm his friend. "We'll make him suffer, don't you worry. But right now we need to go."

The blonde boy finally nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat dizzy from the adrenaline as he stood up and made his way to the Twinkie. Once he saw you inside, your half dressed body curled up on Kie's lap as you cried, the guilt came back to him in an agonising gut punch.

"This entire thing had been practically all his fault." Was all he could think. "From the relapse to this. He'd fucked you up without even trying."

He ignored his friends shouts as he paced back to his bike and said nothing as he rode off, deciding that he would go to a bar and drink his thoughts away for the night. As John B had said; it wasn't worth getting a prison sentence for murder, but that didn't mean he couldn't find some other random people to fight.

Hiiii I hope y’all enjoyed. I might make a part 4 depending on feedback. Stay safe!!

[webslingingslasher]

j! its been so long but omg hi

i was super obsessed with ur frat!peter hows he doing?

i just saw a tiktok that was about a frat boy yelling at a party “if youre not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!” has this been brought up in the frat!peter circle?

i have so many scenarios in my mind like at the different stages! when they first started and trouble isnt super stable in the relationship and she goes to head out but peter (or ethan omg) grabs her arm and hes like ur part of that demographic trouble. im melting 🫠

or when theyre like broken up/taking a break and she goes to leave and peter goes all sad puppy dog eyes :((

omg yes queen::

*a little something ya'll can wake up to. <3

---

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

you hold in a sigh, the party's over. ally won't make it home with you tonight, she ditched you thirty minutes ago to 'go with matty,' aka, you won't see her again until tomorrow.

you glance down at your drink and debate chugging it, if you do you know you'll leave with a woozy stomach. you take two sips and dump the cup in the kitchen trash, it sends two empty beer cans falling, you shrug at the mess and keep walking.

a girl stumbles into your shoulder and profusely apologizes with tears in her eyes, you keep telling her it's okay but she doesn't let it go until her boyfriend nudges her out of the house.

the house music cuts, any stragglers were just seriously kicked out. you follow the crowd and prepare for the cold walk home, a hand loops around your upper arm before you can get through the threshold.

'where do you think you're going?' you turn around and grin at your friend. 'home? where are you going?'

'also home. i'm just waiting for everyone to clear out first.' ethan pulls you away from the dwindling party. 'you know, brother duties.' he sends a wink your way, you nod along like you understand.

'yeah, but i'm not a brother so i don't think i should help with that.'

ethan stops you again. 'parker is a brother, yes?' he is. he's also not there tonight. something about going to queens being more important than the typical friday night party. 'he is.'

'and you're fucking him, right?' you love when ethan has a little liquor in him. 'i am.'

'okay, so then you fit the requirements. hang back with me and we can go to my place together.' it's not a hard sell but you'll act like it is. 'are you sure? peter's not even here, do those rules still apply?'

'i'm a god damn chapter officer, i get to make the rules and it's everyone else's job to follow them. how about that?' you pat ethan's shoulder, you're not arguing one bit.

'can't fight you on that, can i? you twisted my arm good enough, lorax. i'm yours until peter gets home.' ethan holds out his hand, you shake it like it's a business deal.

'good. he told me to make sure you stayed.' he says it with a wink, a gentle suggestion he wasn't supposed to tell you that but you're glad he did. it makes you warm thinking peter didn't want you to feel excluded, especially because he was missing in action tonight.

'well... i am fucking a brother, right?'

'you are. and you know what that means? you have to stay here after every party.' he says it like it's a bad thing but you can get used to being on an exclusive guest list.

it feels nice. so, ‘hell yeah.’

-- vs. after the breakup--

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

hearing it makes you sad. no one's going to make you stay or tell you that those exceptions still apply to you. ally gets to stay here and you have to tuck your tail between your legs and scoot out the door.

'i can leave with you.' your best friend is kind for offering, you're an even better friend for saying no. 'that's okay, stay with matt.'

'are you sure? you shouldn't have to walk out of here alone, that kinda blows.' it does and you don't like the reminder. you'd prefer if ally stays, actually. you don't want her pity.

'it's fine. beats the alternative, right?' she looks at you to say what the alternative is, you do it with a sigh. 'fucking peter. that's my other option.'

'who said it had to be peter? there's like forty guys in the frat and you're buddies with at least five, take your pick.' you've thought about it but frat boys, especially the ones from sig nu, make you queasy.

'it's fine, ally-cat. i'll walk back with one of the other girls in our dorm.' the same faces you see in the hallway at your dorm are gathering their stuff to leave, they'll have no issue with you tagging along. 'boo. i miss when we would have frat house sleepovers.'

'good. blame peter.'

'and i do. he hates to see me coming his way, he really does.'

another brother screams out the same line, you frown and decide to leave while you still have friends in eye-distance. when you reach the door you look behind one last time to send a wave to your best friend. ally sends one back and blows a kiss with it. you catch it and slam it to your cheek, she giggles, you grin. your eyes flit up to the stairs, someone's already watching you.

peter sends you a sorry smile, he hates that you don't get to stick around anymore either. you match his melancholy and give him a shrug, more like a 'whatcha gonna do?' vibe. rules are rules and you're no longer a fitting member for the requirements they need.

'you can stay.' peter mouths it, you pretend not to know what he just said. 'wait.' you're still pretending, you turn around and walk a little faster down the steps- peter catches you on the bottom step.

'i said you can stay.' you have no reason to stay behind. you're not a brother and you're no longer involved with one. you point to an imaginary watch on your wrist, 'i'm about to turn into a pumpkin.'

'yeah, you almost left a shoe running out of here so fast, cinderella.'

you grin, 'i'm just following the rules.'

peter wavers his stance, he doesn't care who said what- he wants you to hang around a little bit more. he likes seeing you around. 'you're still included. i mean, we're involved, aren't we?'

you look at him like he's crazy, you swear you see him blush before he starts fumbling over his words. 'i just meant that i'm not moving on and you're not moving on and i'm trying to get things back to how they were- no, wait, i'm trying to get things better than they were before. not that they were bad! well, i mean they were bad but not... trouble, help me out here, you know what i mean.'

you do. you just like ignoring it. 'you're cute when you grovel for me.'

'i'll get on my knees right fucking now.' he's not even drunk and he's willing to beg for you in front of his party goers. you have to hold in a smirk of pride. 'to ask me to stay or to convince me with your mouth?'

peter's eyebrows raise, 'if you're asking me to go down on you the answer is yes. it's very much a yes, my place or yours? fuck it, let's go to the bathroom.' you're halfway back inside before you realize what you started.

you rip your hand away from peter, you refuse to go back to what it was. you need more than a few apologies to make you crawl back into his bed, you need a real confession. 'nuh uh, not happening. not in a damn bathroom.'

'okay, that's fine, my place is closer.'

you have to stop yourself from following him a second time. 'no, wait! i meant no, it's not happening. period.'

'i don't care if you're on your period, i'll still do it. that's how committed i am to you.' you manage to keep from gagging at the visual, instead you shove peter's shoulder. 'ew! you're so gross! i'm not on my period, you dolt. i'm just not having sex with you.'

'cool, don't have sex with me, let me just show you i can still make you come in under five minutes.' he has no idea how tempting it is. you're being braver saying no than he is for asking, post-breakup included.

'go find another girl, i'm sure there's a whole line-up waiting to get picked on.' peter's nose wrinkles, he doesn't even think of it as a cheap shot. 'gross, other girls are icky.'

you shut it down. 'peter, i'm not a brother and i haven't touched you in two months. there's no reason for me to still be here, goodnight.' you try to leave, a whine follows behind you.

'but you're still-'

but you're not, no matter how much he says it.

'if you changed the rule to 'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or used to fuck a brother, then get the fuck out!' how many girls would stand around and wait on you?' peter looks at you, he doesn't say anything and silence always screams that you're right.

'mhm. rules are rules, goodnight.'

there's a sense of succeeding when all you get is a wistful goodbye behind you. it lasts until the next week when the routine friday night party comes to an end with the normal call.

'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or go by trouble, then get the fuck out!'

ally squeals and tells you 'that's you!' but you're too busy glaring at peter's smug face to celebrate. it's his turn to shrug, his mouth forms four words that fuck you over.

'rules are rules, trouble.' 

[rafesheaven]

ive been thinking about doctor!rafe a little too much but it’s okayy bc I lovee him!!

I see this w sugar (bc she’s so me) and ive been thinking about that time you said that rafe is a multitasker and he would be rubbing your clit without even realizing it while watching tv…😵‍💫

mayb sugar had been needy all day and she’s sitting in between Rafe’s legs and she’s being really whiny and needy asking him for attention while he’s on the phone w one of his coworkers and it gets to a point were he has enough of hearing her whine that he reaches his hand in her pants and starts rubbing her clit until she cums over and over and he’s talking on the phone like nothing is happening.

also hiii my Shania babbby!! how are youu??!! it’s snowing where I am and I loveee you

hi my dolly baby !! i'm okay, just freezing cause it was also snowing where i am >_< i love you moreeeeee <333

poor sugar would be trying to get his attention the entire night cause it was supposed to be their night, but instead, rafe is busy on the phone with a co-worker, talking about god knows what.

"rafe..." you whined for what seemed like the millionth time, "not now, babydoll, 'm on the phone," he gave you a stern look. "you've been on the phone for a while...maybe i should just go home," you frowned, starting to pull yourself away from him. his hand slid around your waist, pressing on your tummy to pull you back into his chest, "i didn't say you could go anywhere."

"maybe if you paid attention to me, then i wouldn't wanna leave," you whined. rafe rolled his eyes at your antics, his hand slipping down to dip into your shorts, pulling your pretty panties to the side. a soft moan spilled from your lips when his fingers reached your sensitive bud to rub soft circles. rafe carried on his conversation over the phone, snickering to himself; all it took was him rubbing your puffy clit, and you were already melting into his touch.

your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your moans getting louder, and you grasped onto his forearm as his fingers circled your clit faster. "what was that?" his co-worker asked on the other side of the phone, "s'nothing, just a scene playing from a movie," rafe chuckled, tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder, reaching around to shove his fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.

[itsnesss]

heyy, could you write a jun-ho smut with a jealous reader (I didn't think of any specific situation), I'm sorry, english is not my first language 😭😭

I love your writing so much!!!

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you feel insecure and jealous during a dinner with jun-ho, especially when another woman approaches him. after an intense emotional moment, jun-ho reassures you in the restaurant bathroom. the scene ends with jun-ho asserting his dominance and claiming you publicly, leaving no doubt about your relationship

warnings | jealousy and possession, insecurity, smut, explicit content, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, semi public

word count | 2.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The restaurant was filled with laughter and conversations. You could hear the clinking of wine glasses and plates being served in the distance, but everything seemed distant to you. Sitting at the table next to Jun-ho, you felt that, no matter how hard you tried to enjoy it, something didn’t fit. The atmosphere seemed lively, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. His coworkers were talking about topics you didn’t fully understand, and although you tried to follow the flow of the conversation, your thoughts always returned to one thing: her.

It was impossible not to notice. The girl, with her dark hair and melodic laughter, stayed close to Jun-ho the entire time. Every time he made a joke, she laughed louder than the others, casually touching his arm, as if they shared a complicity you couldn’t reach. Every time their eyes met, you felt as if the air around you thickened, as if the world suddenly shrank, leaving you alone in the middle of that crowd.

The focus of attention seemed to always be Jun-ho, but there was something in the way she got close to him that made you twist inside. It wasn’t just that they were talking; it was the way they looked at each other, as if they shared a secret history that you didn’t know.

You felt increasingly uncomfortable, like an intruder, and when she leaned toward him to say something, touching his arm again, you couldn’t stop an intense feeling of jealousy from taking over you. You felt stupid, but you couldn’t help it. Why did it bother you so much to see how they laughed together, how they got close, as if they were the only ones in the room?

Jun-ho, unaware of your thoughts, continued enjoying the conversation. His coworkers also seemed charmed by his presence. He was the center of attention, and you, even though you were sitting next to him, felt invisible. Was it always like this with everyone? So close, so natural? You couldn’t stop wondering what they had that you didn’t.

With your heart racing, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm down, but when you looked at the girl again, you saw her smiling, moving even closer to him. Something inside you exploded. You didn’t want to be there, you didn’t want to keep seeing that scene. No matter how many times you told yourself you shouldn’t feel that way, the anxiety kept growing, taking over your mind and body.

You decided to stand up abruptly. You couldn’t stay there, feeling like the air was suffocating you. Jun-ho looked at you instantly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice full of concern as he saw you get up from the table.

You felt tense, your breathing irregular, but you tried to keep calm. You looked toward the hallway, feeling the need to get away.

"Just... need some air," you replied, your tone not very convincing, but enough for him not to insist.

Jun-ho stared at you for a moment, then stood up as well. Without a word, he followed you down the restaurant hallway. You didn’t want him to come, but you couldn’t stop him from taking your hand with a firmness that, although gentle, was impossible to ignore.

"Are you sure everything’s okay?" he asked as they walked. There was a hint of concern in his voice, but also something else. Was it jealousy that sparkled in his eyes? You didn’t know, but what you could feel was the tension in his posture, the way his steps became quicker as he noticed you pulling away.

"I just need to be alone for a moment," you replied, but you couldn’t stop your tone from sounding more curt than you had planned. Frustration was starting to surface, and the last thing you wanted was to show Jun-ho how insecure you felt at that moment.

Finally, the two of you reached a small secluded corner, where he stopped you gently, looking at you with an intensity that made you swallow. The distance you had tried to put between you both didn’t exist, and Jun-ho's closeness made you feel more vulnerable than ever.

"What’s going on?" he said, this time without the previous concern, as if he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from you.

You couldn’t keep hiding it. The poison of jealousy coursed through you, and although you knew it wasn’t rational, you couldn’t keep it in anymore.

"It’s just... her... I can’t stop looking at her," you said, gritting your teeth, your gaze fixed on the floor. It was hard to look into his eyes, even though you knew he wouldn’t understand unless you said it. How could you explain that every time she got close to him, you felt like something in your chest was breaking?

Jun-ho remained silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, but there was a hardness you had never heard before.

"Are you getting jealous?" he asked, his tone so serious it almost made you regret speaking.

The blush appeared on your face instantly. You tried to find an exit, a way to take back the words you had just said, but the truth was, you couldn’t. That’s what you felt. No matter how silly it seemed, you couldn’t stop comparing yourself to her, to the way she seemed to have all of Jun-ho’s attention.

Before you could say anything else, Jun-ho took your hand and, without a word, led you to a nearby door. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let this conversation hang in the air. He wanted you to clarify it, he wanted both of you to clarify it.

He led you to the bathroom, the door closing behind you with a soft click, and the sound of the others’ voices faded away. All that was left was the echo of your breathing, his and yours.

Jun-ho looked at you with unusual intensity. There was a different energy in the air, something palpable, and you could feel it in every fiber of your body. Something had changed in him too, as if the situation had brought out a more passionate, more possessive version of himself.

"I’m going to show you that I’m only yours," he said in a low voice, like a promise, as his fingers traced your face. Every word was a heartbeat, and his eyes wouldn’t let you escape.

Your chest sped up, and when his lips met yours, you couldn’t stop a wave of desire from flooding your body. The kiss was deep, urgently warm, and at first, all you could feel was his closeness, his body pressing against yours with force, as if he wanted to erase everything else from the world.

But it wasn’t just that. You could feel his hands on your body, touching you with a palpable need, as if he were finally claiming you, as if the jealousy had pushed him to prove that only you mattered. And in that moment, all you thought, all the insecurities you had felt, faded completely.

"Jun-ho..." you murmured between kisses, but you didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t necessary.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, his hands found your waist, pressing you against him as his body moved with the same urgency you felt. His kisses were gentle at first, but they became more intense, more demanding. You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want anything to separate you from him in that moment.

Without thinking, his fingers found your dress, sliding underneath to caress your legs. You arched towards him, knowing there was no turning back. You wanted to feel his touch, his tongue in your throat, his teeth caressing your nipples. All you wanted was him.

Both of their breaths were heavy, they were both panting, but they couldn't stop. He gently spread your legs, and when his fingers found your wet panties, he couldn't help but let out a deep sound of pleasure. It was as if you had driven him crazy, but you didn't feel guilty. You wanted it that way. You wanted him to realize that only you could make him feel that way.

"You are so beautiful" he said between kisses, moving his tongue along your neck. His fingers found your pussy, pressing it gently.

"Jun-ho... Please" you murmured, but you didn't need to say more. He knew exactly what you needed.

With a softness that surprised you, Jun-ho slipped two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them slowly. You could feel your inner walls caressed by his fingers, the warm touch, the movement so firm and confident, and before you could realize what was happening, your vagina began to contract. You clung to his shoulders, trembling with pleasure, and couldn't help but let out a moan.

Jun-ho continued moving his fingers, looking at you as your walls closed around them. The vision was so erotic, so exciting, that you felt like you were about to explode again.

"That's it, my love," he murmured, moving his thumb towards your clit. Come for me... Come to me, my love.

Your eyes closed and the orgasm took you on a journey of pleasure. You felt like you were flying, as if Jun-ho were the center of the world and you were surrounded by his energy. It was his touch that had brought you there, his finger pressing on your clitoris with softness but firmness, and you could do nothing but surrender to him.

It wasn't until several seconds later, when your breathing began to calm down, that you realized your panties were stained. But you didn't care. You couldn't be happier that Jun-ho had given you an orgasm in the restaurant bathroom, simply because you had made him feel jealous.

The idea was as erotic as it was sexy, and you didn't want it to end. You wanted to keep feeling his touch, feeling him inside you, as if it were possible to merge your bodies into one.

"I want to feel you inside me," you said softly, looking into his eyes. Jun-ho also seemed calm, but his pupils were dilated. You could see in them the need, the desire to fuck you.

Without a word, he lifted you off the ground and set you on the countertop. They were lucky that there was no one around at that moment, or the situation would have been even more embarrassing.

He pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion, revealing his hard cock. It was so beautiful, so big, so perfect. You desired her inside you, you wanted to feel her thickness, her warmth.

You didn't wait any longer. You lowered your panties and sat back on the countertop, spreading your legs so he could come closer to you. And that's exactly what he did.

He got between your legs, looking into your eyes as he placed the head of his cock at your entrance. You felt so wet that you knew he could slide in easily. And that's exactly what he did. He slid his cock into you with a smooth but firm motion, and you couldn't help but let out a scream.

"That's it," Jun-ho murmured between kisses, sliding his cock inside you. "You're so wet... You're going to like my cock, aren't you?"

You didn't respond. It wasn't necessary. You let his cock fuck you, let his touch take you to a wave of pleasure, while his fingers played with your nipples. And it didn't matter that you were in the bathroom of a crowded restaurant. The only thing that mattered was him, his body on top of you, his cock fucking you with such need.

"How does it feel?" you said in a whisper, arching towards him with each thrust—. How does it feel when you fuck me? What does it make you feel when you have me inside?

Jun-ho seemed lost in his own sensations, but upon hearing you, he opened his eyes again. He looked into your eyes with a burning intensity.

"It makes me feel powerful," he said in a very low voice, moving his hips so that his cock sank even deeper into you. It makes me feel like only I can do it, like only my cock can do it.

You felt yourself blush, but you didn't stop. You couldn't, you didn't want to. You wanted to listen more.

"And what does it make me feel?" you asked, tightening your walls around his cock. He let out a sound of pleasure, but continued speaking.

"It makes you feel like I'm yours," he replied in a firm voice. It makes you feel like you own my cock. As if only you deserved it.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to tell him that he was also your master. But you didn't. You couldn't speak, because at that moment, Jun-ho moved faster, thrusting his cock so deeply that you couldn't help but orgasm.

Yes, an orgasm, right there, in the bathroom of the most public place, with Jun-ho fucking you. And you couldn't complain. The sensation was so intense, so sexy, that you didn't want it to end. But Jun-ho seemed to know you were coming, because he moved harder, squeezing his fingers on your hips.

Your vagina contracted, and Jun-ho began to come. His muscles tensed, his breath stopped, and his cock emptied inside you.

Both were still, panting. You knew you should be ashamed, but you couldn't feel anything but pride. Pride in knowing that Jun-ho belonged only to you, and that he had shown it in the sexiest way you could imagine.

Finally, he pulled out of you and helped you down from the countertop. The semen began to spill onto your panties, but you didn't want to clean yourself. You wanted to take it home, feel its touch on your panties all day.

Jun-ho smiled upon seeing the expression on your face.

"Don't worry," he murmured, kissing you softly. I think you already understood. "You're jealous, and I'm going to give you something so you always feel secure. Okay?".

You didn't respond. You didn't need to do it. You knew that Jun-ho would always be there for you, but only for you. And that was more than enough.

After what happened in the bathroom, everything seemed different. The air between you and Jun-ho was charged with a new tension, something you had never experienced with him before. The words he had whispered to you in the middle of the kiss kept resonating in your mind: "I'm going to show you that I'm only yours." You felt yourself going crazy, every fiber of your being burning with the intensity of his caresses, but now there was something even stronger, a need you couldn't ignore.

When Jun-ho opened the bathroom door, the noise of the restaurant hit you full force, but it was no longer the same. Even though the others continued chatting and laughing, the world felt more distant than ever. You walked beside him, as if you were floating, and the only thing you could think about was what had happened between the two of you, what he had shown.

The curious thing was that, instead of trying to smooth over the situation or hide what had just happened, Jun-ho seemed even more confident about what had occurred. And as soon as they returned to the table, he made no attempt to separate from you.

As they moved forward, you felt more uncomfortable. Everything seemed to be happening at a different speed, as if everything around you were slowed down, while your body continued to vibrate with the electricity that Jun-ho had left in you. Your eyes searched for hers, but this time, you felt no fear, no jealousy, no insecurity. Jun-ho's dominance over you was so clear that, for the first time, you felt completely secure.

The place was lively, but when they reached the table, something in the atmosphere changed. Everyone seemed so busy with their conversations that they didn't notice the immediate change in the interaction between you and Jun-ho. However, what happened next made it clear that he no longer intended to hide what was between the two of them.

Jun-ho sat down again, but this time, he didn't let you sit next to him like before. No, this time he took your hand, guiding you onto his lap without hesitation. The murmurs at the table faded as he, with a fixed and dominant gaze, drew you closer, as if ensuring that no one could question who you were to him.

Everyone's eyes turned towards you, and in that moment, you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. Jun-ho smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile. It was a smile that spoke of possession, of control. Suddenly, you felt his hand slide down your back with a firmness that made you shiver.

"This is so you have no doubt," he murmured, before his lips met yours in a passionate, direct kiss, in front of everyone.

The clash of sensations was immediate. The world around you disappeared, only he and you existed, and the intertwined mouths. The kiss was neither shy nor brief; it was long, intense, full of a promise that didn't need to be verbalized. Jun-ho held you tightly, making your body press closer to his, as if you wanted to disappear into him.

At first, the room fell silent. No one dared to interrupt, surprised by Jun-ho's audacity. But then, someone laughed nervously, and another murmured something softly, as if trying to downplay what had just happened. However, Jun-ho showed no signs of concern. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy every glance, every whisper at the table, as if he fed off the attention they gave him.

When they finally parted, the air around them was charged, but not with tension, rather with an unbreakable confidence. Jun-ho looked at you with a smile that knew exactly what it was causing. He knew there was no way anyone could doubt what was between them.

"Is that clear to you?" he asked in a low voice, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Your breath was ragged, but it wasn't just because of the kiss. There was something in his attitude, something in the way he had behaved that had completely shattered you. And now, looking at him, you understood that there were no doubts. There was no room for insecurities. You were with him, and that was all that mattered.

You nodded, without the need to say a word. You knew you didn't need to speak. Jun-ho had done everything he needed to do to make sure there was no room for doubt. And when everyone's attention slowly returned to their own conversations, you felt different. It wasn't that you had been "possessed" in some way, but there was something in that kiss, in that public display of affection and control, that had erased any insecurity you might have had.

The others returned to their conversations, some of them even trying to discreetly glance towards where you and Jun-ho were sitting. But he didn't let you go for a second. The way he held you, the way he looked at you, made you feel like you were his, without the need for words.

[luluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu]

˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗𝓗𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮 ˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟 Synopsis: You're not in love, that's what you keep telling yourself. But if you keep denying it, it'll only hurt you more

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟Extra Details: F!Reader, Unrequited love. Angst, only cussed once or twice I think

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟 Lovely Notes: This took me a week to write so hopefully you guys like it! Requests are open and I will be posting Se-mi fake dating tomorrow since it needs MAJOR editing. Also Requests are open!

────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────

It's easy to live in denial, but accepting the truth is one of the hardest things to do. Acceptance and denial. Two words so closely related yet so different. It was so easy to convince yourself Se-mi was just a friend whilst you ignore the way your heart races when she looks in your direction. It’s so easy saying you don’t like her despite the tingling jealousy that builds up whenever she talks or even mentions another girl. Convincing everyone that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for her was almost as easy as breathing, but the more you deny it, the more painful the truth and acceptance will be.

The more the words repeat in your head, the more you are forced to remember how long you've been putting these feelings aside all in denial. Se-mi is going on a date with a girl she met at one of Thanos's parties. “I’m just looking out for her” was the same excuse you had always told yourself. Just a protective friend definitely not because the mere idea of her even looking at another girl in that way hurts. We're just friends and I'm just a friend to her.

Just a friend

Just…a…friend….

The more the words repeat in your head, the more it feels true yet the impending hope of what things could overshadow the denial. I mean if it's so easy to convince them…why can't you convince yourself? Why is it so hard to just be okay with her going on a date with another girl…a girl that isn't you. Why is it so hard to just accept that you are nothing more than her friend?

Saturday afternoon rolled around, and a harsh knock at your bedroom window had woken you up. It was Se-mi, it was only ever her. You slowly get up from the warmth of your comfortable bed, a strangely unfamiliar place. This was wrong, you knew it was wrong but why are you still giving in? Despite your better judgement, you open the window and let her in. Se-mi does her signature smirk “Woke you up?” she asks, sitting on your bed. “No..Kind of?” you say standing up and looking at her. “Uhmm? What's up?” You say, your voice sounded quieter and slightly nervous but why were YOU nervous? It was just Se-mi. “Okay so I'm supposed to meet Ji-Yeong- later at the amusement park” Se-mi says excitedly. You stare at her, your eyes looking hollow as you try to hold in the jealousy. No, it wasn't jealousy, you thought to yourself, it was just that you didn't like how Ji-Yeong treated her. That's all. “Uh-huh” you gave her a half response as she talks about her excitement “She's pretty and nice, it think we'd be more than a casual fling” Se-mi jokes. Se-Mi had always been a bit of a player ever since you had met her. It was never the same girl.

“Cool, have fun with her” you say, your tone was harsher, colder. A tone you've never used with Se-mi. Your response catches her off guard “Woah, something wrong?” she asks. Se-mi had always been good at reading your feelings and being able to tell when something was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong, I just woke up so I'm just sleepy! yep very sleepy still and probably tired..like REALLY tired” you say starting to ramble and hoping that your response was convincing enough.

“Staying up late editing again, huh?” She teased.You roll your eyes “shouldn’t you be getting reader for your date with Ji-yeong” You say as your voice became snarky the instant you said her name. “Woah don't get all sassy, I just know you too well” She says with a big grin. But if she really knew you so well, then how come she didn't notice? How did she not see how you were so obviously in love with her. Maybe she did and just chose to ignore it or maybe she didn't know you at all. You're suddenly taken back to reality when Se-mi places her hand on your shoulders “Hey, you're not upset about me waking you up right?” Her voice was gentle and sweet. Your face flushes “Yeah” you say as Se-Mi smiles and hugs you gently

It was a tough day that day, after se-mi had left for her date you couldn't stop wondering. Wondering if the date was okay, wondering if Se-mi talked to Ji-yeong the same way she did with you. Se-mi’s date should be over by now, she hadn't even texted you. You were hoping, begging even that Se-mi would come over to say it didn't go well. For her to go to your apartment and realize she wanted you. No, you just want her to be okay, you don't like her, you're not in love. But if you're not, why does it hurt so Goddamn bad that she's on a date with Kim Ji-Yeong and not YOU. It's almost like your prayers had been answered the moment you heard your door knocked, you rushed towards your door, wiping your face from any kind of imperfection you thought you had. Slowly, you open the door and smile warmly seeing Se-mi. “Hey!” you said, your voice seemed all too happy. “Hi” she smiled warmly as she walked in and sat on your couch. “How'd it go?” you say quietly, wishing in every bone in your body that she'd say it went horrible, it was bad and she'd never go to Ji-yeong ever again.

“We’re dating now!” Se-mi says with such excitement in her voice. Your smile immediately drops and before you know it you’re staring at her, dumbstruck.”What?” what, the only words you could muster out. “The date went perfect, we were going to take it slow but she’s just too good to lose” Se-mi says with a bright grin. You stare at her in silence “You need to go” you whisper quietly. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Se-mi says in an upset tone “I just need you to leave, like right now” You say your voice cracks as you feel tears threatening to fall. “I’m not fucking leaving you until you tell me what’s wrong?” she says as she stands up. Her face was stern as she stared at you. And before you know it, you’re crying screaming out every single thing you’ve felt for the past 5 years. ��I’m in love with you Se-mi! I can’t keep doing this! It hurts knowing you’re not MINE. I can’t even stand the mere idea that you’re hanging around other people. You can’t even see that, I’ve tried so hard to not be in love with you but I can’t. I can’t… I can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep acting like I don’t love you and that we’re just best friends” You say, stumbling on your words as you rant. Se-mi stared at you with a blank expression. “Look, You’re a great person and the best friend” she starts but you don’t even let her finish “Please… Just leave” you choked out through your tears and she glances at you one last time before leaving.

WIth a heavy heart, you knew you should’ve stayed quiet. Emotions aren’t easy. Maybe if you had just accepted instead of denying, maybe the weights in your hearts wouldn’t drag you down like an anchor. Maybe then, Se-mi would still have been your best friend.

[adieutristana]

Can you write something where you comfort Jinx and calm her in season 2 where she gets hallucinations and looks really scared when sevika tells her about Isha?

of course! thank you for the request <3

guys somebody go back in time and slap past lottie for deciding that taking 16 credit hours this semester would be a good idea 😒

summary; comforting jinx after isha is taken.

characters included; jinx (romantic), sevika (platonic) isha (platonic/familial)

tags/warnings; hallucinations, mentions of poor mental health, hurt/comfort, isha is barely there but she’s there, same with sevika, mother/mother/daughter dynamic

men dni.

jinx kicks open the door to her hideout, buzzing with excitement. you’d just been out in the lanes together, looking for materials for one of jinx’s new inventions. another type of bomb, unsurprisingly, but one that would be better for ranged attacks. you also picked up some metal and paint so that jinx could make isha some new toys. maybe some new insects to make fight.

you smile at the thought.

"i'm back!"

your girlfriend calls out, approaching her workbench. she glances over, her eyes carefully scanning the area for any signs of isha.

"time to find out who's the new pebble weight."

she continues, glancing around. you also try to look for the little girl, searching for any signs of her. she's quiet, but she usually would've made her presence known by now. any other time isha would've jumped out with her helmet on, giggling and running circles around yourself and jinx. as if asking when you can play again, what's the next game.

"isha?"

jinx asks, her tone a bit more unsure- but she turns around, towards the tent on another platform of the hideout.

"oh, okay. i get it. playing that game, are we?"

she comments, as you follow along. long, blue braids swaying behind jinx with each of her movements. her tone is light and chipper, hopeful even. isha likes to hide. she likes to surprise the both of you, running up behind you and wrapping herself around your legs. you hope this is one of those times.

hopefully this is just a game, isha simply hiding and waiting to jump out at any moment. or maybe she didn't hear yourself and jinx calling out for her. maybe she's sound asleep inside the tent, having tuckered herself out. you hope to whatever is out there that it's something simple.

jinx glances inside the tent, peering her head in different directions while you look inside of various crates and bins. you can see the concern etched into the girl's features, glancing over as you continue to look for isha. but there's no sign of her. almost as if she vanished.

"god damn, she's good at hiding."

you grumble. you search any surface you can find, any little passage that she could hide in, any sheets or structures she could be hiding behind. but still, nothing. jinx turns to you, opening her mouth to say something.

"they got her."

sevika's distinct voice cuts through. you see her making her way toward the structure you're standing on, limping on one leg as liquid pours from where her prosthetic arm should be. falling onto her knees, trying desperately to keep herself upright. she looks like she's been through hell just now, and you can feel your heart drop to your stomach. they got her? who got her? what does that even mean?

"what?"

"she came to the rally. topside raided the place. took everyone."

sevika continues. oh, fuck. the rally. the rally zaun had planned to retaliate against the brutality of piltover's enforcers, which jinx was less than happy about. the woman had told her that she was a symbol, a beacon of hope for the people of the undercity. somebody who demonstrated power and resilience. she never once backed down from a fight, never showed fear in the face of injustice, and always stood up for what she believed in. even if it wasn't a conscious decision, she was taking a stand for her city.

but still, jinx didn't want to come. no matter how much sevika urged her to and no matter how much of a difference she was told it would make. and now, you're finding out that isha had showed up to the rally and had been taken. taken to gods know where and there's nothing either of you could've done. panic begins setting in, yet you haven't even seen jinx's face yet.

the thought of anything happening to the girl you and your girlfriend had taken in made your stomach twist. a playful, sweet girl who you'd both grown to care for. one who made you laugh, who kept you on your toes, who added the bit of adventure and unpredictability both you and jinx needed. only a child, and she's been taken. taken.

you look over to your girlfriend, and immediately rush to her. she's distraught. torn. rosy eyes are frantic, not quite focusing in on anything, her gaze downcast. the second you see her gasping, shaking her head, hands coming to cover her ears, you know something is seriously wrong. you're torn.

you've seen jinx in a similar state before. although her episodes had gotten more spaced out in your presence, the intensity dimming over time, they'd never fully gone away. you knew they never would, either. but you'd always been there to help. but this?

"jinx. jinx."

should you reach out to comfort her? would she be okay being touched right now? you don't know. but it's killing you to see her like that, so distraught. you know it's a horrible idea, she'll probably flinch away and retreat further into herself, but you have to.

you slowly reach out to grasp the girl's shoulders, a motion you hope will ground her at least somewhat. she lets out a sharp gasp at the touch, her eyes meeting yours for a split second. she doesn't respond, but she doesn't move away. this is good.

"shut up, shut up..."

she mutters under her breath, and you squeeze down on her shoulders. your thumb brushing against the cold, bare skin. you're trying to look into her eyes, get her to redirect her focus, but you can't seem to get through to her. you look back, and sevika is still on the floor, heaving. fuck.

"shut up!"

you hear a gunshot, and a sharp gasp leaves you. your ears begin to ring from the sound, but you throw your arms around your girlfriend's shoulders. you can't bear to see her like this. nothing short of scared, distraught.

"jinx!"

you move to swiftly smack the gun from jinx's hand, the metal making a clink sound against the steel of the floor. jinx tenses against you. her breathing is erratic and she still can't quite look at you, or sevika, or anything.

"jinx, baby, please, look at me. i know you're scared, i know this is a lot, but you have to calm down."

you tighten your grasp around the girl's shoulders, searching for absolutely anything in her expression. but all you're able to find is utter despair. blank eyes and parted lips. jinx's chest is heaving and she's grasping at her head, frantically looking around as if she doesn't fully believe that isha has been taken. like she's waiting for the little girl to jump out and tell her that she's okay.

her breath is coming out in pants, and you feel so damn lost.

"jinx. jinx, please. we'll find her, i promise we will, but we can't until you calm down."

you plead, one of your hands coming to her cheek while your thumb brushes across the skin. jinx is inconsolable to a point that you've never seen before, but you have to try everything in your power. for her.

finally, pink eyes meet your own, although hesitant. your heart all but clenches in your chest as you see her finally looking at you. acknowledging you and your words, even if non-verbally.

"baby. we're gonna find her. trust me, we will tear up this damn city and piltover if we have to, but we will find isha."

jinx's eyes are shaky, her gaze flitting between you and sevika as she pants. you can't hear it, but you're sure her heart is beating like a war drum. you're sure the battle in her mind is one not even she can comprehend. she lets out a shaky breath, slowly nodding.

"will we?"

"we will."

you affirm, your thumb continuing its motions on her cheek. your other arm comes from her shoulder to wrap around her waist, a desperate attempt to bring her back to reality. her breaths are still shallow at best, but you can see them relaxing the slightest bit. slow progress, but it's something.

"she's okay, jinx. i'm sure of it."

jinx shakes her head frantically, the tremble in her voice evident.

"she's out there somewhere. scared, and probably alone."

you sigh, looking down for a second. you know that jinx is probably right. if someone really did take her, isha is absolutely scared, and more than likely alone. it hurts your heart just to think about it. but you have your girlfriend in front of you, in desperate need of comfort and help. you can't dwell on that.

"probably. but i doubt she's hurt. we'll find her, and she's gonna be okay."

jinx lets out another shaky breath, and purses her lips. she pauses, before looking back at you again. she isn't quite reciprocating your touch, and she isn't giving you much to work with. regardless, she's calming down.

"we need to look for her."

she states plainly, to which you nod in agreement.

"we will-" you pause, looking out of the doorway, then back at jinx. "let's go. right now."

"right now?"

"right now."

jinx gasps softly, and mutters a little, 'shit, okay.' you press a quick kiss to her temple before rushing towards the exit of your girlfriend's hideout. quick on your feet and determined to find isha.

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 2

Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Part two baby let's goooooooooo

Okay first up, I wanna thank every single person who has liked, reblogged, commented on and read part one (if you didn't catch it, you can read it here :)) . I love and appreciate every single one of you. Your support, comments and tags are literally food for my soul. So thank you ^^

Second, this fic makes reference to @beckyninja 's Titus x reader fic series. Specifically, it references Titus' relationship with the reader character "little healer." I really wanted to reference them bc they were such a big inspiration for me and @beckyninja is such an awesome writer and creator. If you wanna know more, go check out their fics. They're superbly written, and as mentioned above, they are among the inspo for this series. So go read them! :D

Third, standard warnings and notes: this part is sfw, but has violence, angst and general 40kness. Also unedited so apologies for any spelling and grammar errors (I'm sure there are some lol)

As always, thank you for reading and please enjoy :)

Between the towering grid of criss-crossing spires, the night sky twinkled at Ellicent. It was only a sliver- if she held out her hand, she could cover it entirely with her palm. But for a girl whose life until how had been spent at the very bottom of the Underhive's deepest fissures, it was like looking through a planetary telescope.

Stars of every colour shone against the deep blue back drop. It might just be her imagination, but Ellicent could've sworn it they were winking at her. Like they knew how pretty they were, and were only too happy to show off of her.

A smile touched Ellicent's lips. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly content.

"I thought I might find you up here."

She turned in her seat. On her left, not far from where the chimney sat, a warm, round face framed with silver hair appeared over the edge of the roof. Ellicent's smile broadened a little more. "You know me well," she said.

Climbing off the ladder and onto the roof, Gadriel carefully made his way over to her Although they were about the same age, were she was lithe like a cat, he built like an ox. Meant with every step he took, the iron sheet that made up the roof shook and rattled. He lowered himself down beside her, then followed her gaze upward.

"Pretty, right?" Ellicent said.

"Uh huh. If only there weren't so many hive spires in the way."

Smirking, Ellicent leaned into his shoulder. Gadriel lifted his arm to make room for her, then draped it around her. Ellicent had to resist the urge to sigh- after sitting outside in the cold for so long, the warmth of his body against hers was heavenly.

"If you join the Angels, you'll get to see all of it," she said.

"You mean when."

"Sorry. When."

Both of their tones are humourous, but underneath is an edge. An unspoken tension wedged between them, despite how close they are now.

"I thought you'd be too old now, anyway," Ellicent said. "Don't they only take young boys?"

"18 cycles is the official cut off," Gadriel said. "I've still got one more left to make it."

Eliicent nodded, but said nothing. Her silence, however, spoke for her.

Gadriel's arm around her tightened. Gently, he guided her head into the crook of his neck. "Ellie. I-"

"I know. It's the best way to get out of here. To get us out of here." She shook her head slightly. "But it's not the only way. And it's definitely the most dangerous."

"It's only dangerous for me," Gadriel said. "For you and Mum, it's the safest."

Ellicent swallowed the lump that was forming in the back of her throat. An old familiar grief rose up within her heart. With it, it brought pictures of her father.

"Ellie?" Gadriel asked. She felt the warm kiss of his forehead touching her crown. "Will you say something?"

Gazing up at him, Ellicent gave him a brief peck on the lips. "We've still got one cycle," she said. "We'll figure something else out by then."

"And if we don't?"

"We will," Ellicent said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It wasn't him.

Over and over, her head tells her the same thing. With every turn of her screwdriver. With every jolt of pain that shoots through her shoulder from her damaged cybernetic arm.

It wasn't him.

It wasn't him.

It wasn't him.

"But it was," Ellicent says aloud. "It was. He said my name. I heard his voice. It was him."

Why did he never come back, then?

Why did he leave you?

The screwdriver slips from her hand and clatters to the floor. Cursing, she stoops down to pick it up. "I... I don't know," she hisses at herself. "Maybe he- maybe he was too busy. Or thought I was already dead."

Or maybe he forgot about you.

Tears sting Ellicent's eyes. It's all she can do to keep herself from crying out loud.

"It wasn't him," she mutters. "It can't have been."

The snap of an opening door makes her look up.

"Ellicent! What the hell was that?"

Ellicent winces away from the voice. It grates her like a razor across her ear, spawns a knot of anxiety deep within her gut. "I'm sorry, sir," she says. "I-"

He punches her in the face. Hard enough to break the skin of her brow. Ellicent tumbles out of her chair, breaking her fall with her still-damaged cybernetic. The arm's metal hisses like a snake who's been stood on.

"How many Space Marines have you killed for me already, huh?"

Ellicent touches her finger to her brow. She stifles another wince.

"How many?!" Severus bellows.

Ellicent swallows bile and blood. "Ten," she murmurs.

"That's right. Ten." Grasping her by the pony tail, Severus hails her to her feet. His own bionic arm whines with the effort. "So tell me, " he spits. "Why the fuck was some trio of damned blue boy-scouts able to best you?"

Ellicent avoids his eye. He hates it when she looks at him. Doing so now would only earn her another punch. "I'm sorry," she says again, even meeker than before.

She can feel Severus' glare boring through her skull. Her scalp is screaming, but she bites her lip against the pain. Show no resistance. Only subservience. Even if you hate it, it is the only way to survive.

With a wordless snarl, Severus throws her to the ground. "Worthless wretch. I invest everything in building you, and you give me nothing in return."

Ellicent sneaks a glance up at him. Running his hand through his long, greasy hair, he wears an exhausted, frustrated scowl. "The Drukhari won't forgive us for this," he says, more to himself than to her. "They'll want to cut ties. Won't wanna risk having the Sons of Guilliman looking their way."

He carries on like this for several minutes. Completely ignoring Ellicent, as if she'd never been in the room in the first place. Ellicent pushes herself up to her knees, but doesn't risk trying to rise. Even without the threat of Severus' wrath, however, she doubts she could stand anyway. Her face aches from the punch, and her head is spinning.

It wasn't him, her mind tells her. Over and over again.

Her heart, however, is not so easily silenced.

But what if it was?

* * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"A Valkyrie is on it's way for Chairon," Titus reports. "Despite appearances, the Apothecary believes he will likely survive."

Gadriel looks up from his hands. For the last hour, he's done nothing but stare at them in silence. He looks past Titus to where their brother lies prone. When the gas charge had detonated, Chairon had caught a piece of debris to the side of the head. It had struck with enough force to sever his helm, break his skin and crack his skull. A sickening mixture of emotions broil within Gadriel at the sight of his brother like this. At the knowledge of who had done it to him.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

"Sergeant?"

Gadriel starts. "Forgive me," he says. "That is- that is a relief. Thank the Emperor, indeed."

Titus' expressionless helm stares at Gadriel for several long moments. Gadriel has to stifle the urge to squirm. The lieutenant briefly looks around; after the attack, the fireteam had retreated into a nearby complex, smashing down the windows and taking cover within its walls. Since then, the area has been silent. The only evidence of there ever being a fireifght are the odd tangle of black smoke still spiralling in the air. Satisfied that they are still secure, Titus looks back at Gadriel.

Then, he removes his helm.

The seals around his throat hiss as Titus breaks them, lifting off the helmet before tucking it under his arm. His face is squarer than Gadriel's, with a firmer jaw and a blunt nose. His hair is cropped close to his skull and the pair of silver studs above his right brow indicating his century-long career as an Ultramarine- gleam in the low, polluted light. His is a fierce visage to look upon, there's not doubt about that. But despite that, when he looks at Gadriel now, the only thing fierce about him is the intensity of his worry.

"Forgive me for saying this, brother. But you appear to be distracted. Unsettled, even."

Gadriel's instinct is to lower his gaze. To try and brush the lieutenant off with a snide remark or flat out refusal. Indeed, if they had been having this conversation back on Kadaku, that might have been exactly what he would have done. But much has happened since then. Many things, both good and bad, have passed between him and Titus. As such, the lieutenant has become one of his closest friends.

If anyone might understand, it will be him.

Taking a breath, Gadriel sighs it out through his nose. Removing his own helmet, he sits upon a nearby ledge and sets it on his lap. "That woman," he starts. "I... I know her."

"You've encountered her before?"

Gadriel covers his blush with one hand, feigning the need to rub his nose. "That's one way of putting it."

Titus eyes him carefully. Despite his best efforts, Gadriel can feel himself wilting under the scrutinisation. Titus clasps his helmet to his hip, then walks up to Gadriel to sit beside him. He's leaning forwards elbows braced on his knees. Something about the posture gives Gadriel a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Is she a former ally?" Titus asks quietly.

Gadriel chews his cheek. Shakes his head.

"An enemy, then?"

"No," Gadriel says sharply. "No, she- she was the first one."

"An ally?"

"How much more?"

The word makes him wince. "Yes. But she was..." Throne, how do I even describe it? "She was more than that. A lot of more."

Gadriel bites his cheek. His tongue feels like ash in his mouth. "We were... together. Before I joined the Ultramarines."

Titus nods thoughtfully. "I see."

A beat of silence passed between them. Titus is the one to break it. "Tell me, how long have you served for?"

"As of this cycle? Fifty three years."

Tirus nods again. "That's a long time. Particularly in the eyes of a baseline."

The comment is innocent enough, and in no way untrue. Even so, Gadriel feels his hackles rise. "What are you saying? "

"She tried to kill us, Gadriel. She raised a weapon against the Emperor's Angels. And even if she hadn't, I know you saw the same as I: the particle beams, the necronian cybernetics. That alone is-"

"It's not as simple as that," Gadriel says. He looks down at his hands. "It can't be."

His hands become fists. For the first time this entire interaction, Gadriel looks Titus right in the eye. "I need to talk to her."

"Sergeant-"

"No, listen to me. Ellie would never do this. Never. Severus must be coercing her or have her enslaved."

"Gadriel-"

"She could've killed me back there, at the warehouse. She had her blade at my throat. But she didn't. When she heard me speak, she stopped. She recognised me, Titus. She said my damn name!"

"Gadriel, enough!"

Titus' voice snaps like a whip, cutting Gadriel off mid-breath. The corners of his eyes have hardened slightly, and though he still appear sympathetic, Gadriel can feel exasperation bubbling beneath it. "I understand your frustration, brother. If she were truly falsely accused, you know I would take your side. But we both saw her wielding alien technology. We both saw her bomb wound Chairon and her blade almost kill you." His voice softens. "Whoever she was to you does not change that. It can't."

Gadriel bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. The taste of his own blood is sharp on his tongue. Sharper still is the invisible blade scything away at his heart.

But what if it's all my fault? He wants to say. What if I was reason for whatever terrible thing that brought her here, and if I didn't remedy it, I could not bear to live with myself.

Gadriel says no such thing, however. If he did, all he would get from Titus is more stern sympathy.

That isn't to say that Gadriel remains silent, however. In fact, he's already got his next argument prepared, has for a while. He doesn't know if it will work, and the only thing he does knkw is that, initially at least, it will do nothing but outrage Titus. But Gadriel has no other ideas. He's desperate. And he running out of the time.

"What if it had been your little healer?"

Titus' entire body goes rigid. "What?"

Gadriel clenches his jaw. Both of his hearts pound as if he'd just stepped into a firefight. But he keeps talking. "She was accused of heresy, wasn't she? Her own people tried to kill her. But you saved her."

Titus' nostrils flare as he exhales sharply through his nose. "What relevance does that have here?"

"What relevance?" Gadriel demands. "It is the same thing!"

"My healer was falsely accused."

"You didn't know that when you saved her, though, did you?"

With a crash of ceramite on concrete, Titus is on his feet. "Speak your mind, Sergeant," he growls. "But I warn you; you are on thin ice."

Gadriel steadies his pulses with a slow, deep breath. Then, joining Titus on his feet, he meets the lieutenant's gaze. "If this was your healer," he says. "You would not hesitate in seeking her out. Even if she had attacked us- even if she'd succeeded in killing Chairon and I- you would go to her. You'd want to help her. Or, at the very least, try and talk to her. I know you would, and I know that you know it too, even if you won't admit it. So why won't you allow me to do the same?"

Titus' jaw feathers with tension. Gadriel can practically hear the storm raging behind his eyes. He imagines Titus can see something similar happening behind his own eyes, too. "You know the Codex would absolutely abhor such an action," the lieutenant says quietly.

"I do," Gadriel says. "But the codex is not always right. You taught me that."

For a long time, Titus says nothing. He just stares at Gadriel. Either searching for something within the sergeant's expression or mulling over his own thoughts. Gadriel's hearts roar in his ears. The cut he'd chewed into the side of his cheek has now become an open wound. But he doesn't dare interrupt the Titus' thoughts. Right now, the lieutenant is Gadriel's only hope. By extension, that makes him Ellie's only hope.

Finally, after what feels like a century, Titus opens his mouth. "You're right," he says. "Absolutely, you are right. And as your friend, I wish I could stand by you. But I am not merely your friend, Gadriel. I am also a servant of the Emperor, and I am also your commanding officer." He trails off, but Gadriel can hear what goes unspoken. It makes his throat close over, fills his stomach with rocks. "Titus," he whispers. "Please-"

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. But there is nothing I can do."

Gadriel opens his mouth to argue, but as the first curse word leaves his mouth, the bang of a firearm makes both Astartes turn. Gadriel scoops up his helmet and makes his way over to the window. Above the city skyline, piercing the dying daylight like a sword through armoured plating, a single, scarlet light rises into the sky.

"Is that a flare?" Titus says from Gadriel's side.

Gadriel swallows thickly. There's no way... No way she still has it.

"Yes," he replies.

"But there are no other Imperial forces here."

"It's not Imperial," Gadriel mutters.

Titus looks at the sergeant, confused. It doesn't take long, though, for the pieces to fall into place. "Gadriel-"

But Gadriel is already gone. Slamming his helmet back over his head, locking its objective marker onto the location of the flare, no other thought, feeling or concern in his mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Feel like I'm finally cooking now XD part 3 is about to be the scene that I dreamed up that made me wanna write this story in the first place so I am SO HYPED to write it :D

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi

[iamquiantrelle]

VIRGIN TERRITORY (chapter 5) ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairing: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# tags: @whoevenisthiz @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @rougereds @f1-football-fiend @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbrii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes

# summary: she's been his pa for almost a year and every day is a struggle to function around him, but he'll never see her more than that...will he? and what will happen if he finds out she's also a virgin? masterlist.

The Atlanta airport is different after months of European terminals. Everything's louder, more familiar, more home. Leila's dragging her designer luggage (a gift from Josette on her birthday) past Popeyes and Chick-fil-A, the smell making her realize how much she's missed proper Southern food.

Her mama nearly drops her church hat when she walks through the door unannounced, clutching her chest like Leila's appearance might send her straight to Jesus.

"Lord have mercy! What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Did that boy—" Jeanna Mae's already reaching for her phone, probably to alert the whole prayer circle about her prodigal daughter's return.

"Mama, breathe." Leila drops her bags by the door, taking in the familiar scent of sweet potato pie and those vanilla plugins. The house looks exactly the same – family photos covering every surface, that ancient TV guide that hasn't been opened since streaming existed, her daddy's old recliner still in its spot of honor.

"Don't tell me to breathe when you show up looking like somebody broke your heart." Her mama's fingers are flying across her phone screen. "And I bet it's about that captain of yours. The one who won't admit his feelings."

"Mama—"

"Don't 'mama' me. You flew across an ocean to run from that boy. I raised you better than that."

Before Leila can defend her life choices, her phone explodes with notifications:

Yolanda: BITCH YOU'RE HOME??? Kenzi: Emergency drinks at Slim & Husky's in 30. This is not a request Tasha: Don't even think about saying no. We saw your IG stories Yolanda: Already ordered the wine. GET HERE

Her mama's already pushing her toward the stairs, that knowing look in her eyes. "Go change. Your girls are waiting. But don't think this conversation is over. I want to know everything about this William boy too."

"How do you even—"

"Baby girl, I might be old but I know how to use Instagram. Now go. But we're having a proper talk when you get back."

An hour later, she's squeezed into a booth at Slim & Husky's, surrounded by her best friends since middle school and enough pizza and wine to fuel a proper intervention. The restaurant's busy for a weeknight, filled with that specific Atlanta energy she didn't realize she'd missed.

"So let me get this straight," Yolanda leans forward, wine glass dangling dangerously while her bamboo earrings catch the light. "You got TWO fine African men fighting over you? In EUROPE?"

"They're not fighting—"

"Girl, please." Kenzi rolls her eyes so hard they might get stuck. "One's bringing you Lebanese food while the other's having whole breakdowns in tunnels? That's fighting. That's fighting in multiple languages."

"And you're here because…?" Tasha raises an eyebrow, already reaching for another slice. "Because from where I'm sitting, you running from good dick. Multiple good dicks."

"I needed space," Leila adjusts her glasses, a nervous habit that makes her friends exchange looks. "From both of them. From all of it."

"Space?" All three look at her like she's lost her European mind.

"From the situation," she clarifies. "It's complicated."

"What's complicated about your captain being clearly in love with you but too scared to say it?" Yolanda's got that look that means she's about to start speaking truths nobody asked for.

"Or about you dating his teammate to make him jealous?" Kenzi adds, signaling for more wine. "Because baby, that's what you're doing."

"I am NOT—"

"You are." Tasha cuts her off, voice gentle but firm. "And baby? That never ends well. Trust someone who knows."

"Plus," Kenzi adds, "that William seems sweet. He doesn't deserve to be your rebound."

"He's not—"

"He is." All three say it in unison, years of friendship making them a well-oiled truth-telling machine.

"Look," Yolanda sets down her wine glass like she's about to deliver a sermon. "You got these two fine men – both rich, both fine as hell, both clearly interested. One's bringing you food and treating you right, while the other's having whole emotional breakdowns over you but won't say why. And instead of dealing with it, you flew home to eat pizza with us."

"The pizza is good though," Leila mutters.

"Not better than French dick," Tasha coughs into her wine.

The truth of it all hits different over pizza and pinot noir in her hometown, surrounded by friends who've known her since she was wearing Limited Too and dreaming about her first kiss. Maybe she did run. Maybe she's still running.

But maybe she needed to come home to figure out where she's actually trying to go.

"So what are you gonna do?" Kenzi asks softly.

Leila looks down at her phone – no messages from Aurélien, but three from William checking if she landed safely.

"I don't know."

But that's a lie.

She does know.

She's just not ready to admit it yet.

"Well if it isn't the finest women in Atlanta."

The voice makes Leila's entire body cringe before she even looks up. Torrance Johnson – high school quarterback turned local gym trainer – is standing at their table with that same smile that definitely worked better ten years ago.

"Torrance," Yolanda's voice could freeze hell. "Don't you have some protein shakes to blend?"

But he's already focused on Leila, eyes doing that slow scan that makes her wish she'd worn a turtleneck. "Damn girl, Europe's been good to you. When'd you get back?"

"She's not staying," Tasha cuts in. "And she's taken."

"By two men," Kenzi adds helpfully, earning herself a kick under the table.

"Two?" Torrance's eyebrows shoot up. "Nah, can't be. Our Leila? Miss Voted Most Likely to Marry Her Books?"

Something about the way he says it – that hint of dismissal, that suggestion that she couldn't possibly have multiple men interested – reminds her exactly why she left Atlanta in the first place.

Her eyes catch on his deliberately distressed jeans, probably bought that way from some boutique in Buckhead, and suddenly all she can think about is Aurélien. How he dresses like every Atlanta rapper's Pinterest board come to life, all designer streetwear and chains that probably cost more than Torrance's trainer fees.

"You should go," she says finally, not even looking up from her wine. "Your protein shakes are calling."

"Come on now—"

"She said go." Yolanda's voice carries enough attitude to make several nearby tables look over.

He leaves, but not before dropping his card on the table with a wink that probably works better on girls who haven't seen him throw up at prom.

"The audacity," Tasha mutters, reaching for more wine. "Acting like you ain't out here with whole European footballers fighting over you."

"They're not—"

"Girl, if you say they're not fighting one more time," Kenzi cuts in. "We've seen the videos. Your captain looked ready to commit murder in that tunnel."

"And William?" Yolanda adds. "That's not just trying to get some, that's husband behavior."

Leila's phone buzzes – another text from William asking how her first night home is going. Nothing from Aurélien, but Cama has sent her a video of him absolutely destroying the training ground equipment.

"You know what's funny?" she says finally, still staring at her phone. "Aurélien dresses exactly like these Atlanta boys trying to look hard. All ripped jeans and chains and-"

"Baby," Tasha interrupts gently, "the fact that you're thinking about how he dresses tells us everything we need to know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yolanda starts, "that you flew across an ocean to get away from your feelings but you're still noticing his clothes."

"His very expensive clothes," Kenzi adds. "Not whatever Fashion Nova collection Torrance was trying to rock."

"Can we not—"

"Compare them?" Tasha grins. "Too late. We've all seen your Instagram stories. We know exactly what kind of men you're working with now."

"And neither of them," Yolanda adds, "is anything like these local boys trying to act like they're something. Your captain might dress Atlanta, but baby? That man's got that real money energy. And William?"

"Pure class," Kenzi nods. "The way he looks at you in those photos? Like you hung the moon or something."

"Meanwhile Aurélien looks at you like he's trying to figure out how to possess your soul," Tasha observes. "In a hot way."

"Y'all are doing too much," Leila mutters, but her cheeks are warm.

"Are we though?" Yolanda challenges. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've got two whole meals fighting over you in Europe while Torrance 'Peak in High School' Johnson is trying to get your attention with some jeans he probably bought at ASOS."

"The difference," Kenzi adds, "is that Aurélien's probably wearing jeans that cost more than Torrance's car."

"And William's probably never worn distressed anything in his life," Tasha laughs.

"Can we talk about something else?" Leila pleads. "Anything else?"

"Sure," Yolanda grins. "Let's talk about how you're going to handle going back to work. That's coming whether you're ready or not."

The reminder sits heavy in her stomach. One week left of pretending she's not running from her feelings. One week of Georgia comfort before facing reality.

Her phone buzzes again – a text from her mama this time:

That boy called me again. The captain. Asked how you were.

She turns her phone face down.

The chatter at the table felt like a lifeline, a reminder that even with the chaos of her love life — or whatever this was — her friends never changed.

"Alright, y’all," Leila starts, her tone light but her fingers nervously taps her glass. "If we’re gonna dissect my life like this, at least give me something useful. Any advice for handling… all of this?"

"You mean William?" Yolanda grin like she’s been waiting for this moment. "Or both of them?"

"Both," Leila admits, earning a chorus of gasps and exaggerated cheers from around the table.

"You kissed him, though?" Kenzi presses. "William? Wilo? What was it like?"

Leila took a sip of wine, letting the anticipation build. "It was… nice," she says, feigning nonchalance.

"Nice? Girl, come on!" Kenzi groans.

"Fine," Leila relents, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "It made my kitty purr."

The table erupts, laughter bubbling up loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

"Big purr!" Yolanda cackles, fanning herself dramatically.

"And yet, you’re still hung up on Aurélien," Tasha says knowingly, swirling her wine like she had the upper hand in this conversation. "You can’t hide that."

"Because he’s got her heart," Yolanda teases. "William might’ve gotten a kiss, but Aurélien’s the one she wants to risk it all for."

"Okay, okay, but," Kenzi cuts in, her tone shifting into unsolicited-advice territory. "If you’re really gonna give Wilo a shot, you need to bring your A-game. Like, head game on ten."

Leila groans, her head falling into her hands. "Why do I feel like I’m about to regret asking this?"

"Because you probably are," Yolanda teases, ignoring her protest. "But listen up. The trick with a guy like William? You gotta be confident. Show him you know what you’re doing. And eye contact. Always."

"Exactly," Kenzi agrees, raising her glass. "And if he gets all quiet or grabs your hair—"

"I’m leaving," Leila interrupts, though she stayed firmly in her seat, face buried in her hands.

"You’re not going anywhere," Tasha says with a smirk. "This is gold, and you know it."

"I can’t believe I’m having this conversation," Leila mutters, peeking up from her hands.

"Believe it, baby," Yolanda says, taking a sip of her drink. "And take notes, because we all know William’s got that 'nice boy' energy, but Aurélien?"

"He’s giving 'break-the-headboard' energy," Tasha finishes matter-of-factly, earning another round of laughter.

Leila tries to glare at Tasha, but the heat rushing to her cheeks betrays her. "Y’all really have no chill, do you?"

"Not when we’re right," Yolanda says, sliding her phone across the table. "Speaking of Aurélien, have you seen this picture of him on the pitch? Look at his tongue."

Leila glances down reluctantly, only to be met with an image of Aurélien mid-game: shirt clinging to his torso, a sheen of sweat glistening under the stadium lights, his tongue peeking out in what was either concentration or defiance. His face was as expressive as ever, eyes lit with determination.

"You’re telling me this man isn’t whispering filthy things in French while making you see God?" Yolanda asks, her tone almost academic.

"I’m saying nothing," Leila says, snatching the phone and flipping it over. "Y’all are too much."

"But we’re not wrong," Kenzi shot back. "Aurélien looks like he’d talk you into doing things you didn’t even know you wanted to do. Just with that voice."

"And that tongue," Yolanda adds, grinning devilishly. "Girl, do you know how expressive his face is? Like, come on. He’s not just scoring goals on the pitch."

"Alright, that’s enough!" Leila protests, trying to keep her composure despite the riotous laughter around her.

"Enough?" Tasha raises a brow. "Girl, we’ve barely started. You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. About him and that—"

"I haven’t!" Leila lies, her voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing.

"Uh-huh." Yolanda wasn’t buying it. "Listen, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. That’s not just casual interest. That’s 'call out my name when you’re about to come' energy."

Kenzi nearly spat her drink. "I mean, facts, but damn, Yolanda, say it with your chest."

"She already did," Tasha quipps. "And she’s not wrong. Leila, you’ve got two literal snacks fighting over you. One’s sweet, one’s spicy. You’ve gotta at least taste one."

Leila groans, her face in her hands again. "Y’all are insufferable."

"But you love us," Kenzi says, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "And we love you. We just want you to live your best life. With both of them, if that’s what it takes."

"Big facts," Yolanda says, raising her glass. "To Leila living her best life, with Aurélien, William, and whoever else makes her kitty purr."

Leila couldn’t help but laugh, raising her own glass in surrender. "Y’all are ridiculous."

"Ridiculously right," Tasha says with a wink. "Now, tell us more about that kiss. Did he grab your waist? Your face? Both?"

And just like that, the teasing continued, leaving Leila both mortified and comforted. If nothing else, her girls always had her back, even if it meant roasting her into oblivion in the process.

*********************************************

Leila was halfway through her third slice of pizza at Slim & Husky’s when her phone buzzed on the table. The low hum of conversation and the warm scent of garlic and cheese filled the space, but the message on her screen stole her focus.

Wilo: Can you come to London next weekend? I miss you.

She stared at the words, her stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with the food. Her friends were busy splitting a cinnamon roll flight, oblivious to the sudden weight in her chest.

"You good?" Kenzi asks, nudging her shoulder.

Leila blinks, quickly locking her phone. "Yeah. Just Wilo being… Wilo."

"Oh, what’s he saying now?" Yolanda leans in, her curiosity obvious.

"Nothing important," Leila mutters, waving them off.

Her friends gave her knowing looks but didn’t press further. Leila took another bite of pizza, forcing herself to focus on the moment, the laughter, the easy camaraderie. But her phone felt heavier in her pocket now, like it was daring her to check it again.

Later that night, back at home, the scent of fried chicken and collard greens still lingered in the air from dinner. Leila leans against the counter, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long gone lukewarm. The hum of the dishwasher filled the kitchen as her mama wiped down the table, and her daddy sat at the head, finishing the last of his sweet tea with a satisfied sigh.

"That hit the spot, baby," he says, patting his belly. His trucker hat was tipped back on his head, a little smudge of grease still on his hands from unloading earlier.

Her mama smiles, but the look she gave him was clear: We need some girl time.

He caught the silent signal and grins, pushing back his chair. "Alright, I know when I’m not needed. Leila, you make sure your mama doesn’t go pulling out another project this late. I’m gonna grab a shower."

"Yes, sir," Leila says with a small smile, watching him leave the room.

Her mama waited until the sound of the shower started before she finally spoke.

"You got something on your mind, girl?" her mama asks, setting down the dishcloth.

Leila hesitates. "No. Just tired."

Her mama raised a brow but didn’t push. Instead, she grabbed a glass of water and leaned on the counter across from Leila.

"You get my text about Aurélien calling me today?" she asks, her tone deceptively casual.

"Yeah."

"Wanted to check on you. Asked how you’ve been," her mama says, sipping her water.

Leila frowns. "What did you tell him?"

"Told him you’re grown, handling your business," her mama replies easily. "But he sounded worried. Said he missed you.”

Leila’s chest tightens, but she kept her expression cool. "He didn’t say that to me."

"Maybe he’s scared to," her mama says, fixing her with that all-knowing look. "Men don’t always say what they mean, but they show it in other ways."

Leila snorts, shaking her head. "He’s all talk, Mama. If he cared, he’d show up. William’s the one actually trying."

Her mama’s lips quirks up in a small smile. "Maybe. Or maybe you’re just scared of what it would mean if Aurélien came through. Scared to let him in."

Leila looks away, her throat tight. "I’m not scared."

"Sure you’re not," her mama says lightly, pushing off the counter. She paused to kiss the top of Leila’s head. "Just don’t be so busy keeping your options open that you miss out on what you really want."

As her mama walked out of the kitchen, Leila’s phone buzz again.

Wilo: Please, Leila. I just want to see you.

Her thumb hovers over the screen, but her mind isn’t on Wilo. It was on Aurélien and the way his name had sounded coming from her mama’s lips. The way her heart had skipped just a little at the thought of him calling to check on her.

***************************************

Leila only has a few more days at home, and it’s messing with her head. She thought coming back to Atlanta would give her clarity, but instead, it feels like everything is weighing on her even more. The whole thing with Aurélien and Wilo — it’s making everything harder.

Should she quit being Aurélien’s PA to be with Wilo? Or just quit being a PA altogether and finally figure herself out? But if she does quit, she’s not going back to corporate. Hell no. That life nearly drained her dry the first time around, and she’s not making that mistake again.

Still, the idea of starting fresh sounds good — better than being stuck in the middle of whatever this is. But then Wilo texts her again, and curiosity gets the better of her. What could this thing with him really be? Would it work if she gave it a real shot?

It’s late, but she picks up her phone and finally replies.

Leila: I’ll come see you this week.

His response comes almost immediately.

Wilo: This week? You sure?

Leila: Yeah. I’ll let you know when I land.

She doesn’t give herself time to overthink it. By morning, her ticket to London is booked, and by the afternoon, she’s already on her way to the airport. Her mama gives her one of those tight hugs that says, I know you’re up to something, but I’ll let you figure it out. Her daddy tells her to be safe, his attention mostly on the game playing on the living room TV.

The flight is smooth, and she spends most of it bouncing between nervous excitement and second-guessing herself. By the time she lands, her resolve is still intact, but she’s made one decision for sure— she’s not staying at Wilo’s house. That’s too much temptation, and she needs to be as clear-headed as possible.

Her hotel is chic but understated, the kind of place that feels luxurious without screaming it. She texts Wilo her room number once she’s checked in, her pulse kicking up as she sends it.

Not even twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.

When she opens it, Wilo is standing there, dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, but somehow still looking like he just stepped out of a GQ spread. He’s holding a bouquet of white roses and grinning like he’s relieved she actually showed up.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice low and warm.

"Hey," she replies, stepping aside to let him in.

The air between them feels heavy but not uncomfortable. He hands her the flowers, his fingers brushing hers in a way that sends a jolt straight through her.

"I wasn’t sure if you were serious," he admits, watching her as she sets the flowers on the desk near the window.

"I was," she says, turning to face him. "I just… needed to make sure I was doing this for the right reasons."

"And?"

"And I’m here," she says simply, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Wilo steps closer, his gaze steady and unflinching. "I’m glad you are."

Leila feels her heart skip, but she keeps her cool, determined to stay clear-headed and focused. She’s not here to get swept away — at least, that’s what she tells herself.

"So," she says, breaking the moment before it gets too intense. "What’s the plan?"

He grins, his dimples making an appearance. "I thought we’d just wing it. Unless you’ve got something in mind?"

"Wing it works," she says, grabbing her jacket.

As they head out, she can’t help but wonder if she’s walking into something that will make everything even more complicated — or if, for once, it might actually lead to something real.

Leila and Wilo keep it low-key, staying under the radar as much as possible. No fancy dinners or crowded hotspots — just little moments that feel easy. They grab coffee at a quiet café tucked into a side street, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and a barista who doesn’t even blink at Wilo’s recognizable face.

Later, they wander through a park, laughing about something stupid Wilo said. It’s simple, and it feels good — so good that Leila starts to think this could actually work.

At one point, they find themselves in a small record store. Wilo flips through vinyls, holding one up every now and then with a smug grin. "You’d love this," he says, handing her a Prince album.

Leila rolls her eyes but takes it anyway, her fingers brushing against his for a second too long. It’s moments like this that make her question everything she thought she wanted or didn’t want.

As they sit down for a late lunch at a quiet bistro, she sneaks a photo of Wilo, mid-laugh, the light catching just right on his face. She uploads it to her Close Friends story, tagging it with a coy little caption: London’s treating me well.

Her Close Friends list is carefully curated. Aurélien isn’t on it — he never has been — but Jules and Cama are. And if she knows anything about them, they’re definitely going to report back.

And she doesn’t care.

Part of her wants them to. She wants Aurélien to see the photo, to know she’s here, to feel something. Everyone keeps saying he has feelings for her, but he’s never done anything to prove it. No grand gesture, no confession, not even a drunken text. If he has feelings, he hides them well, and Leila’s tired of guessing.

As the day goes on, though, her phone stays silent. No text, no DM, nothing. She tries to push it out of her mind, focusing on Wilo instead. He’s attentive, sweet, and clearly into her, and she knows she should be grateful for that.

But as much as she tries to stay present, Aurélien lingers in the back of her mind.

When she gets back to her hotel that evening, Wilo walks her to her door, his hand lingering at her lower back. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him with a soft smile.

"Not tonight," she says, her voice gentle but firm.

Wilo steps back, nodding. "I get it," he says, his tone understanding. "Goodnight, Leila."

"Goodnight," she replies, watching him walk away before stepping into her room.

As she sits on the edge of the bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, she starts to wonder if it’s time to cut her losses entirely. Maybe Aurélien’s silence is her answer. Maybe it’s time to stop waiting for something that’s never going to happen.

She exhales sharply, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. Whatever happens next, she knows one thing for sure: she’s done chasing after a man who won’t meet her halfway.

Leila wakes up to the soft hum of her phone vibrating against the nightstand. She groggily grabs it, squinting at the screen. A text from Wilo.

Wilo: Training’s at nine. Match starts at six. Rest up so you don’t fall asleep in the stands.

She rolls her eyes but smiles, setting the phone down. Today is her last full day in London, and as much as she’s enjoyed the ease of her time with Wilo, the reality of going back to Madrid looms like a cloud over her.

By the time she’s up and moving, Wilo’s already at the training ground, leaving her with a slow morning to herself. She takes her time getting ready, picking out a sleek but casual outfit for the game: a fitted cream sweater tucked into high-waisted jeans and ankle boots. Makeup just this side of "I woke up like this" but definitely intentional and finally using her contact lenses (bout goddamn time).

As the day creeps toward evening, she grabs an Uber to the stadium. She’s buzzed into the VIP entrance, her name already on the list, and escorted to her seat in the family section. The energy inside the stadium is electric, fans chanting and waving scarves as the teams warm up. She watches Wilo out on the pitch, his warmup jacket zipped up to his chin as he jogs and stretches. He looks calm, focused, and seeing him like this — so in his element — makes her chest tighten in a way she wasn’t expecting.

The match kicks off, and it’s tense from the start. Liverpool presses hard, their attacks relentless, but Arsenal holds their own. Wilo is sharp on the ball, threading passes with precision and orchestrating plays like he was born to do it. Leila watches, captivated, her hands gripping the edge of her seat every time he makes a dangerous run or intercepts a pass.

At halftime, the score is still 0-0, and the tension in the stadium is palpable. Leila scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself, but her notifications are quiet. She had half-expected a message from Jules or Cama, but apparently, they’ve decided to keep their mouths shut or maybe Aurélien just doesn’t care.

The second half is even more intense. Liverpool finally scores, and the stadium goes silent except for the away fans celebrating. But Arsenal fights back, and in the 50th minute, Wilo delivers a stunning assist that leads to an equalizer. The crowd erupts, and Leila finds herself on her feet, cheering and clapping like she’s been an Arsenal fan her whole life.

When the final whistle blows, the game ends in a 2-2 draw. It’s not a win, but it’s a hard-fought point, and the energy in the stadium reflects that.

After the match, she’s escorted to the family area. She spots Bukayo Saka almost immediately, his bright smile unmistakable as he chats with a group of people. He notices her standing off to the side and makes his way over.

"Hey, you’re Wilo’s friend, right?" Bukayo asks, extending a hand.

Leila shakes it, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Yeah, Leila. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. He’s been talking about you all week."

Her cheeks warm at that, but she keeps her composure. "Hopefully, only good things."

Bukayo laughs. "Yeah, don’t worry. All good things."

They chat for a bit, Bukayo’s easygoing nature making the conversation flow effortlessly. He’s mid-sentence when someone else calls out to him, and he waves before excusing himself. Leila glances around the room, her eyes landing on a familiar figure — Ibou Konaté.

Ibou catches her gaze and raises an eyebrow. "So. You and Wilo, it's serious, huh?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't start."

He chuckles, those famous dimples appearing. "Brussels was interesting. Aurélien wasn't exactly subtle about his mood."

Leila freezes. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on," Ibou says, leaning in. "You think Les Bleus don't talk? After those Israel and Belgium matches? Aure looked like he was one bad pass away from committing murder every time Wilo was mentioned." His tone is knowing, just this side of teasing. "He's not gonna like this. Not one bit."

"Ibou—" she starts, a warning in her voice.

He holds up his hands. "Just saying. Some captains get… particular about things." The way he says it makes it clear he's talking about Aurélien specifically. "Wilo's a good guy. But Aure? Man's complicated."

Leila can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Tell me about it."

She chats with Ibou for a few more minutes then he gave her a hug before he left. Her phone then buzzes. A text from Wilo.

Wilo: Where you at?

She types a quick response: Family area. Waiting on you.

A few minutes later, he appears, freshly showered and dressed in casual streetwear. His eyes find hers instantly, and he makes his way over, his lips curving into a soft smile.

"Tired?" he asks, sitting down beside her.

"Not really," she lies. In truth, the emotional weight of the day — of the entire trip — is starting to catch up with her.

"Good," he says. "I want to take you out for one last drink before you leave."

She hesitates, but only for a second. "Okay," she says, her voice steady.

They leave the stadium together, slipping out a side exit to avoid the lingering fans and media. The bar he takes her to is quiet and intimate, tucked away in a corner of the city she doesn’t recognize. They sit in a cozy booth, nursing their drinks and talking about everything and nothing.

For a moment, it feels easy — like they’re just two people enjoying each other’s company without the weight of the world pressing down on them.

But as the night winds down, the reality of her impending departure settles heavily between them.

"Thanks for today," she says as they stand outside the bar, the cool night air nipping at her skin.

"Anytime," he says, his eyes searching hers.

She knows she should say more — explain how much she’s appreciated his kindness, his patience, his effort — but the words catch in her throat.

Wilo steps closer, his hands finding her waist in a way that feels both casual and deliberate. "Can I take you back?" he asks, his voice low and warm.

She nods, and just like that, they’re walking back to her hotel. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down around them. Leila keeps her hands in her pockets, but Wilo’s presence beside her feels grounding, a steady reminder that for tonight, she doesn’t have to figure everything out.

At the hotel entrance, she pauses, not quite ready to say goodbye. "You don’t have to walk me all the way up," she says softly.

"Didn’t plan to," he teases, though his smile is gentle.

Still, he lingers. He tilts her chin up with a finger, his touch light, testing. When she doesn’t pull away, he leans down and kisses her. It’s soft at first, a question she answers without hesitation, leaning into him like she’s been waiting for this all night.

His hands slide to her hips, pulling her closer, and for a moment, she forgets everything — Aurélien, the uncertainty, the nagging voice in her head telling her this is a bad idea. All she knows is the warmth of Wilo’s lips against hers, the way he tastes like the pint he ordered earlier, the way he makes her feel wanted.

When they break apart, she’s breathless, her heart pounding. "I should…" she starts, but the rest of the sentence never comes.

"You should," he agrees, though there’s a glint in his eye that says he knows she won’t.

Panic creep into her thoughts, uninvited but impossible to ignore. Wilo is right here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. Why is she still holding back?

"Do you want to come up?" The question slips out before she can stop it, her voice quieter than she intended.

Wilo studies her for a beat, searching her face for something —hesitation, regret, a reason to say no. Whatever he finds seems to satisfy him, because he nods. "Yeah," he says simply.

The elevator ride to her floor is silent, the air between them charged. By the time they reach her room, her nerves are buzzing, though she doesn’t quite know if it’s anticipation or anxiety.

Inside, she tosses her bag onto the chair and turns to face him. He’s already close, closing the distance between them in two strides. This time, his kiss isn’t soft or questioning - it’s confident, urgent, like he’s been waiting for her permission all night.

Her hands find their way to his shoulders, then his chest, sliding under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is warm, his muscles taut under her touch. He groans softly against her lips, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

"Leila," he murmurs, his voice rough. It’s not a question, but it feels like one, like he’s giving her a chance to stop this before it goes too far.

But she doesn’t want to stop. Not tonight. Not when everything feels this good, this right.

"Don’t think," she whispers, her words muffled against his lips, feeling a pull to give in even though her mind is screaming at her to stop.

It feels too good — his mouth on hers, his hands now sliding under the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing her skin in a way that sends a bolt of heat straight through to her kitty. For a second, she can forget everything. Forget the uncertainty, the guilt. Forget Aurélien and the pressure of what she’s supposed to want, what she’s supposed to feel.

Her heart beats faster, and the only thing that matters is the way Wilo’s kiss deepens, pulling her closer as if they’re both drowning in each other, but even as she gets lost in the sensation, the thought of what this means for later creeps up, a whisper in her mind.

Stop before you do something you’ll regret, her inner voice warns, and it’s almost a shout against the moment. She should pull away, tell him this is a mistake, that she’s not ready to complicate things more than they already are.

Yet then, the conversation with her girls back in Atlanta echoes in her mind. Because why should she keep hanging on to something that wasn’t even clear? Wilo is here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. He’s showing her attention — something she craves, something that’s been missing for too long.

She breathes in, pulling away just enough to look at him, her hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palms. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it carries a weight. "I’m not... I’m not gonna go all the way," she says, almost like a promise, though part of her wishes she could just let go.

Wilo doesn’t pull away, his eyes searching hers, gauging her intentions. "Just a taste, then?" he murmurs, the question laced with a little teasing but also an understanding. He isn’t pushing her. He’s letting her make the call.

A part of her wants to shake her head, to step back and stop this before it goes too far. She knows better, knows she shouldn’t be using him to fill a gap that Aurélien has left wide open. However, Wilo’s not asking for anything more than what she’s willing to give him right now — and, hell, maybe she needs it. Plus, he got her panties wetter than a Slip N' Slide.

She smiles a little, though it’s hesitant, her mind still conflicted. "Yeah," she says softly, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "Just a taste."

And in that moment, it feels like a decision.

His lips are back on hers instantly, and the kiss deepens with an urgency that’s different now, like they both know the boundaries but are still curious enough to see how far they can go. His hands are sliding back to her waist, tugging her closer until she can feel the heat of him through their clothes.

Wilo’s hands are warm, exploring, but careful. He’s taking his time, sensing her hesitation, allowing her the space to pull back if she needs it. But she doesn’t. Instead, she lets herself go, leaning into the moment as his lips travel to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Every kiss feels like a promise she isn’t sure she’s ready to make, but she’s here, and she’s going to live in the now. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep pretending she doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him.

Leila can feel her pulse quicken as Wilo’s hands slide down her arms, gently tugging at the fabric of her sweater. The air between them crackles with the same electricity that had been building ever since her first day in London.

With a soft tug, he pulls the sweater over her head, leaving her in just a bra. She can feel the cool air of the hotel room against her skin and Wilo’s eyes don’t leave hers as he strips off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. She feels her breath hitch, the sight of him sending a wave of heat through her.

He notices her reaction, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and teasing.

Ho-ly shit. Leila nods, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just… wasn’t expecting all of that."

He chuckles softly and gets closer, his hands resting gently on her hips before his lips find hers. Leila kisses him back, feeling the pull of desire stir within her.

They stumble backward onto the bed, their lips still tangled in a kiss, the heat between them intensifying. She can’t help but enjoy the feel of his hands on her body, the way his fingers move with intention, his touch confident yet tender. When his hands wander, brushing along her sides and up her back before copping a feel on her titties, his dick pressing against her thigh; she arches into him instinctively. His touch makes her feel seen, cherished, in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

Leila wonders what would happen if she let go entirely. What if she just let herself be free of all the things that tie her down?

Even in the heat of it all, a small part of her pulls back. She remembers the life she’s built — the career she’s worked for — and wonders if she’s willing to risk it all for something that might be temporary.

Her phone starts vibrating. Once. Twice.

One of Wilo's hands is tracing lazy circles along her lower back. "Ignore it," he murmurs, his lips still brushing the shell of her ear.

She does — until the phone goes nuclear. Ping. Ping. Ping-ping-ping. A digital storm that practically rattles the walls.

Wilo raises an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to glance at her phone. "Damn," he mutters under his breath.

Her screen is chaos. Four missed calls. Multiple texts. And, of course, a voice note from Aurélien.

The timing? Almost comical. Almost.

Leila swipes open the messages. They’re an avalanche — each one more urgent than the last. Her thumb hovers over the voice note, hesitant but not enough to stop her. A ticking time bomb of potential drama.

She looks at Wilo, a flicker of guilt passing through her, before her eyes drift back to the phone. Wilo doesn’t move, just watches her, unreadable.

"Give me a sec," she mutters, pulling away from him and sliding off the bed. The space between them feels too wide now, too obvious, but she ignores it, heading for the bathroom.

Door closed. Her back pressed against it, she lifts the phone to her ear.

Aurélien's voice hits her like a slap. Broken. Fragmented. Each word jagged, like he's stumbling through a maze of his own making.

"Leila, I—" His breath hitches. "I can't—" The silence is thick, filled with the things he's too scared to say. "Je suis—"

Her heart, traitorous as ever, speeds up. She presses the phone tighter to her ear, her own breath shaky in response to his.

Another ping. A text. She opens it without thinking.

First, a video. Aurélien's hands. His long fingers dancing over the piano keys in that way she knows too well. The melody — raw, unfinished. Like he’s trying to patch a hole in the air between them.

Then, a screenshot. A letter. A confession. Handwritten, messy, vulnerable. It’s almost too much to take.

Her breath catches.

The world outside the bathroom door feels distant. Almost unreal. Her mind pulls her back, urging her to breathe, to think. But the words on the screen? They’re the kind that push all logic aside.

Her finger hovers over the phone, but she can’t bring herself to delete the message. She opens it again.

The letter fills the screen, and it makes her chest tighten as she reads.

"I don’t know how to say it — words always fail me when it matters most. I’ve tried so many times, but each time, the words slip away like sand between my fingers. So this time, I’m writing it down. Maybe that’s all I can do. Maybe it’s enough to be honest.

You’ve become the quiet in my chaos. The calm in my storm. You’re the one I think about when I’m too tired to think about anything else. The one I reach for when I feel like I’m losing myself. But I never said it. And I should have. I should have said it, Leila. I should have been better at telling you that you matter, that you're my rock, more than just okay.

Maybe it’s too late now. But please know, it’s never been anyone else but you.

I’m sorry for not being brave enough before. But I’m here now. I’m ready to fight for this, if you are.

Aurelien."

She gasps as she finishes reading. His words, they hit different than before. She’s used to his confidence, his charm, his ability to make everything feel effortless. But this? This is him. Vulnerable. Honest. The rawness of it leaves her heart aching in places she didn't even know were sore.

It’s a love letter in its truest sense — one that doesn’t gloss over the mistakes, but lays them bare. The kind that you don’t often hear. And for the first time, she feels it. He’s finally saying the things he should have said long ago.

But is it too late?

The question sits heavy on her chest, and she hates that she even has to ask. She wants to be angry. She wants to throw his words back at him and walk away. But she can’t. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s been holding on to him, or because she’s scared of what this newfound honesty means. All she knows is that his words have shattered the wall she’s been building around her heart.

Aurelien’s been her whole world for so long. Maybe she’s been waiting for him to catch up, to finally see her the way she’s always seen him. But she’s not sure she has the strength to wait any longer.

She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to clear her mind. The cool air in the bathroom doesn’t help. Neither does the soft knock on the door.

"Everything alright?" Wilo’s voice is low, gentle, and when she doesn’t answer immediately, he pushes it open just a fraction.

Her heart skips at the sight of him. He’s standing there. He doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. He can see it in her face, in the way her hands are trembling slightly as she holds the phone.

"I’ll be fine," she says, her voice a little too sharp. It’s not his fault. None of this is his fault.

Wilo doesn’t press. He just steps into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze steady, like he’s giving her the space to breathe and figure it out for herself.

She stares at the phone again, knowing she can’t keep going back to the message. But it’s impossible to look away from it now. His words are etched in her mind, replaying over and over again. She thought she was over him. That she could move on, that the pieces would fall into place. Yet now?

She’s not sure.

Finally, she slides the phone back into her pocket, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"I don’t know what to do," she whispers, more to herself than to Wilo, but he hears her. He always does.

"You don’t have to decide right now," he says softly, but there’s a certain weight to his words. "You’re allowed to take your time, Leila."

Her chest tightens at the gentleness in his voice. He’s not pushing her. Not demanding answers. This isn’t about picking between him and Aurelien. It’s about what she wants, what she’s willing to fight for.

And the truth is, she’s tired. Tired of waiting, tired of not being seen, tired of trying to make things fit where they don’t.

But the letter… the letter is the first time he’s shown up for her, even if it’s a little too late. She doesn’t know if it’s enough to make up for everything, but it’s a start.

Leila takes a deep breath meeting Wilo’s gaze for the first time, really looking at him. He’s patient, understanding. And in his eyes, she doesn’t see the same questions that have been haunting her.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "For being here."

Wilo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he pulls her gently back into his arms, and for a moment, she lets herself feel the warmth of his presence, the steadiness of him.

But in the back of her mind, Aurelien’s words linger.

It’s never been anyone else but you.

Is it too late to believe him?

.............tbd

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

So we're doing this, lol. Okay.

He is a double agent.

Literally just headcanon. As I said. Like, I think it's a GOOD headcanon — as I also said — but even you admit that it requires heavy inference and conjecture to claim that he did anything to help Animals; and slipping in "I don't think of her as a Wicked Witch" and wanting to push back against the more insane rumors is not being a double agent (which would require actual action), it's being a known contrarian and former friend of hers. As I explained to begin with: his quest to find her is not evidence of some kind of revolutionary activity behind the scenes — it's evidence that he wanted to personally reunite with her, which is exactly what his actions led to.

Fiyero knows this, by placing himself here he is in the best position both to protect Elphaba but also protect the Animals in the regime.

He didn't do either of those things though. Like, I fully believe that he wanted Elphaba unharmed (obviously) and that he had some qualms with rounding up the Animals... but he literally volunteered for the Harm Elphaba and Round Up the Animals Brigade, and there is zero evidence he did anything to undermine them until she finally showed up in the Wizard's palace unexpectedly.

Given he used the first opportunity, when they wouldn’t get in trouble, to help the Lion Cub it seems a pretty good inference that he was trying to send out warnings to Animals when he could (especially now the movieverse has made him the only character aside from Elphaba who is friends with an Animal – he probably even has a network he can tap into!).

I would like to see that fleshed out in the second movie, yes — because I agree it would be in character, but on stage, we're left to just hope that he did that (albeit his hypothetical offscreen attempts to help Animals still seem objectively outweighed by his actions that harmed them, so — again, as I said — his having sympathy for them doesn't seem to have stopped him from knowingly doing a lot more harm than good).

IDK about you, but I think if I were to search for someone wanted and was given the opportunity to both have the best resources and information to find her and hamper people who might find her and hurt her, I would totally do it this way too.

Saying you'd totally join the Gestapo instead of the Resistance if given the chance — because of "resources and information" — is not the winning argument you think it is, I'm sorry, lol. Like, if he'd already been a soldier before he realized it was fashy, that might make a bit more sense. If that were the case, then yeah he should've become a double agent! But as it is, it kinda just seems like you're making a lot of excuses for why volunteering to do fascism is justified as long as you feel bad about it and (speculatively) tried to sabotage it (with no evident success whatsoever). I would truly love to believe in Double Agent Fiyero, and I hope that's the direction the second movie goes with him: but I also really liked the Amoral Nihilist Fiyero we got on stage. You keep acting like I'm denigrating him as a character, but I can only express so many times that I'm not. He's a great character: just not a great guy imho.

I know we don’t see him helping the Animals, but nor do we really see Elphaba doing so?

No, we don't see Elphaba doing stuff to help Animals onstage (albeit, as I've said, there don't really seem to be any free Animals left by the time we get to Act II), but there are at least direct statements that she's been involved with the Animal resistance. There isn't even an implication that Fiyero tried to do that, let alone did. You're basing your interpretation of his character on speculation — because it is somewhat difficult, in some ways, to reconcile the compassionate boy we saw in the woods with the fascist commander he's become by Act II — but I'm basing my reading on sheer text; on the actions and statements on the page. Regardless of whether you choose to think he was secretly doing a ton of anti-regime work behind the scenes, I just don't think (as I've said) that the preponderance of his behavior really justifies that. Because at the very least he was still choosing to swallow his compassion and do fascist stuff at the same time, and in the end those were the actions that objectively shaped the future of Oz, not the imagined attempts at sabotage he may or may not have done. Either way, he's interesting, but his actions are hard to defend.

Does this mean he didn’t commit atrocities? No probably not. But bear in mind if he hadn’t been doing it, someone else would have.

Yikes...

He literally succeeded in the exact goal he was planning by joining the Gale Force: to protect Elphaba.

But he didn't protect Elphaba. He couldn't even fuckin find her, lol. She protected herself. While he was actively participating in the violent repression that she hated more than anything in the world.

If he hadn’t been Captain of the Guard in the throne room when the Wizard called his guards she would have been captured and killed, instead she escaped which eventually allowed the Wizard to be overthrown and Elphaba’s values to be acted on in the form of Glinda ruling.

None of which was REMOTELY planned, or even likely. Granting for the sake of argument that she would definitely have been captured and/or killed had he not been in that exact place at that exact time — I'm not convinced of that — if we're really gonna try these long-term domino effect arguments, then Glinda's questionable choice not to get on the broom was actually a heroic act that ultimately led to the liberation of Oz! Come on.

There is a difference between keeping quiet, not protesting a regime and actively endorsing it. Glinda was doing the latter and she was not forced into that. (She also was not helping undermine it the same way Fiyero was).

Yes, she was literally forced into that, lol. Claiming she wasn't forced into her position when she was literally captured and molded into an asset of the regime — and then moralizing about her trying to make the best out of her literal enslavement — whilst somehow insisting that Fiyero going out of his way to enlist as an armed servant of the regime wasn't "endorsing the regime", is actually absurd. Like, it's all well and good to believe his ulterior motives for joining make it okay, but to argue that the guy who volunteers to do the hands-on violent repression side of the regime is somehow "protesting it" because he said a couple things mildly out-of-step (so mild that he doesn't seem to have faced any official criticism for it whatsoever), while the girl we saw two seconds away from getting imprisoned or worse right before the intermission is "not forced into endorsing it"?? In what universe??

Madame Morrible made abundantly clear that the only thing keeping Glinda from being thrown to the wolves like Elphaba was serving as a pretty mouthpiece for the Wizard, and nothing more. I've got a whole list of decisions she actually, with little to no coercion, that I think are legitimately questionable. But you aren't even citing those: you're just victim-blaming because she didn't... suffer enough? Or signal against her abusers enough? Like YES, I will say there's a point where a victim can cross lines and become complicit to varying degrees in their own situation — she herself all but admits this — but unless we're going to talk specifically about those instances of dubiousness, it seems as if you're just blaming her for trying to make space for herself to breathe and not be miserable every waking moment of her... *checks notes*... forced servitude in the regime with absolute power over her life????? A victim trying to make the best of their terrible predicament is not a crime. And Glinda makes very clear that having to spread lies about Elphie is an abuse against her; it's a pain to her very soul. Saying it's her fault and that she wasn't forced into it is just... gross tbh.

But do not pretend for one moment that she is not actively complicit in this regime, with no real desire to stop it until it starts actively hurting her.

Yes, she got a lot of things that she wanted out of her arrangement. She is a complex character, after all. She's flawed. Certainly not the "perfect" victim. She also understands that Elphaba would want her to be safe and happy, and that silly (and outright wrong) rumors will not actually bring any more harm to Elphaba than what she already faces. It's a challenging situation, but Glinda chose to pursue a net positive approach: do her part to maintain her situation, make the best of it, and trust that one day Elphie would manage to set things right. She was incorrect — in the end, she had to be the one to do what Elphaba couldn't — but to claim that she was at fault for her own situation and could/should have done more to push back but just didn't want to enough (and moreover, that Fiyero somehow is NOT accountable for his much more violent, much more voluntary situation), is just perverse. The regime was actively hurting her the entire time; Fiyero certainly understands suffering and living one's best life at the same time, so don't act like it doesn't count for her.

He gave up his wealth, privilege and safety to ensure Elphaba escaped from the throne room and continued her cause (this isn’t about running away with Elphaba btw, he lost everything from the moment he pointed the gun at the Wizard). He was ready to die for her in the Corn Field scene. I don’t know what more you want him to do to prove that he was not shallow and he wouldn’t die for his cause in the exact same way Elphaba was prepared to?

He acted on spontaneous desire, as he always does, and is a nihilist who never gave a shit about any of the things (or people) he cast to the wind to begin with. "He lost everything" — and you expect me to find that brave and romantic, I take it? I don't. Throwing caution and care aside to run off and have a passionate night with the object of his affects isn't WRONG — and I've never said that it is — it's foolish and selfish and impulsive. And as I explained many times: I think it's cool that he's like that. But please do not expect me to accept your premise that these actions were deep and selfless. The actions of a depressive with nothing left to lose, recklessly pursuing the one and only object of obsession that keeps him going — irrespective of all other considerations, even hers — is actually shallow and selfish. It isn't a crime to act on passion or desperation or whatever, and as I've said, I think it's really interesting on multiple levels. Just because he's shallow doesn't mean he doesn't have layers; just not many. We can acknowledge his motives as essentially selfish and still respect that he defended her. I think we should be a little more critical and ALSO account for the consequences of his actions in ways that he did not. Why is that such a controversial suggestion?

Fiyero is the only character of the trio to put thoughts into his actions. He is the only one who doesn’t immediately act on his impulses.

Hard disagree. Like yeah, Elphaba and Glinda have their own brands and moment of impulsivity too — I wrote about it in my original post — but no, Fiyero does not think through shit. He doesn't think about the potential consequences of denouncing the rumors about Elphie; Glinda has to temper his impulse to do so. He doesn't think about the potential consequences of abandoning Glinda; for never cared about either his own safety or hers, only Elphie's. If you assume he joined in the army to be a double agent, then he clearly didn't think through or care about all the violence he was going to have to commit.

I'm not saying he isn't clever — his thoughtlessness is not a function of lacking intelligence, but of lacking concern — and I'm not saying he's reactive to denigrate him. Things happen around him, and if it's something that ignites his passion he acts boldly and fearlessly, with zero concern for anyone or anything outside of that moment. When he makes "plans", they're all very ad hoc and making resourceful use of situations that he absolutely did not (and could not) have planned for. Which is neat! Some find that bold, spontaneous, "she's all that I care for in this world" intense personality type romantic. I'm not one of them, but I can see the appeal; as I've acknowledged. I think it's a bit sad that he behaves that way tbh: because it speaks to his pretty hollow existence, as Elphaba herself identified.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

"Yeah, I'm just a little nervous about you being behind the wheel, Eddie," Robin said.

"Oh, I'm not going to drive her. I'm just starting this baby up," Eddie grinned. "Harrington's got her, don't ya, big boy?"

Eddie was already so close to him, his lips near his cheek. Steve frowned. God. Was Eddie flirting with him? This didn't seem very fair. Eddie gets accused of murder, gets thrown into all of this, and now Steve has to reject him because he didn't like boys. Although, he appreciated the attention and the way he had slammed him up against the wall. . .It also wasn't hard to notice the way Eddie looked at him when he took his shirt off. Poor guy. Steve turned his head and was about to open his mouth when Robin moved. She tripped, falling onto Steve’s back. In the process, it caused Steve to fall into Eddie, their lips bumping against each other's.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" Robin gasped.

"I guess I can cross that off my bucket list," Eddie said with a grin and winked at Steve.

Before anyone could say anything else, the owners of the RV tried to get in. Steve did it without thinking. They needed to switch spots and quickly, too. Steve patted him on his backside to get him out and rushed to replace him. He took off. The entire way to the War Zone, all Steve could think about was kissing Eddie. . .his hand brushing up against his backside just then. . .the hand pressed against the small of his back when they were walking in the Upside Down. . .the way he liked it when Eddie leaned in. He still tried to process it all when they got to the War Zone and even after in the clearing when he was making molotov cocktails with Robin.

"Hey. . .Robin, do you think maybe you can push me into Eddie again later?" Steve asked.

"What? Why?" Robin asked in disbelief.

"I need to test a theory," Steve said, his chest growing warm at the sight of Eddie with Dustin.

"What's the theory?" She asked.

"I like a boy," Steve said as he continued to gaze at Eddie.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed as she nearly dropped the molotov. "You like Eddie!"

Robin slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Steve grinned. He couldn't help it. . .her expression was so comical. He couldn't be mad at her. Judging by the way everyone's head had snapped in their direction, they heard Robin.

"I told you! I knew you would like him!" Dustin shrieked. "Didn't I say that Steve would like him, Lucas?"

"Yeah, man," Lucas said in amusement. "You called it."

Steve smiled and shook his head. Once again, Dustin was missing an important part of what had just happened.

"I just don't know why Robin was so surprised," Dustin said.

"I like you, too, big boy!" Eddie yelled, winking at him again, and Steve blushed.

Robin leaned closer to Steve, smirking as she lowered her voice.

"Theory proven. Steve Harrington likes a boy," Robin said.

"It seems like the worst possible time to realize this," Steve said.

"If not now, then when?" She asked, and then she squealed as she leaned against him. "Neither one of us is straight! This is great! Ooh, I rhymed."

"Settle down, Buckley," Steve said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You should do something about it," Robin whispered.

"I don't know," Steve said, glancing at Nancy. "There's still something there, too."

"We live on a gate to hell, Steve," Robin said. "I think it's okay to like both of them. Anything is possible."

"I think I'm going inside for a bit," Steve said.

"Okay, well, I'm here if you want to talk some more or freak out about it," Robin said.

Steve smiled at her, grateful to her before heading into the RV. He closed the door and sighed. It was all such a great distraction, but it was only momentarily. The pain was very much there. Steve shrugged out of his new jacket and camouflage shirt. He didn't have any time to change his bandages at the War Zone. He had to figure out how to change the bandages, but how could he possibly get the ones on his back and arms? Steve grabbed the first aid kid and started peeling Nancy's piece of torn shirt off of his stomach. Steve cried out in pain and wept harder at the wounds in his stomach. His flesh had been torn away and devoured. . .He could feel the road rash on his back and arms. It felt as though he had been kissed by fire. He tried to keep it all together, tried not to let anyone know how much pain he was in. . .the mission was too important. Steve collapsed on the floor and fell onto his knees. He tried to focus on what he was feeling emotionally. . .Eddie or Nancy? The door to the RV opened, and he jerked at the sound of their voices. . .Jesus, did they hear what he was thinking?

"Steve!" Eddie and Nancy yelled.

The door closed behind them as they rushed to his side.

"I was just trying to change my bandages," Steve groaned.

They quickly helped sit him up, and Nancy immediately started unraveling the bandages.

"Shit, these need to be cleaned," Eddie cursed.

"Oh, Steve, why didn't you tell us you were in this much pain?" Nancy asked.

"I didn't want to be a distraction," Steve said.

"You had no problem being a distraction when you ripped off your sweater, flashing Nancy and I your tits," Eddie grinned, and Nancy giggled.

"You know what I mean, asshole," Steve laughed. "I just - ,"

"You're not a burden. We know about this. You're important, and not just to the mission," Nancy said softly. "To all of us."

Steve smiled at her. Nancy and Eddie went to work cleaning his wounds.

"I'm just wondering how you expected to get the ones on your back? You would have had to twist yourself like a pretzel," Eddie said. "Mm, pretzels."

"Hey, I've got moves," Steve protested.

"He's a ninja," Nancy teased.

"Sounds like an inside joke," Eddie said.

"The first time he snuck into my room, he landed awkwardly, got up, and proudly declared himself a ninja," Nancy said.

"Sounds adorable," Eddie grinned, flashing his dimples as he looked softly at Steve.

"It really was," Nancy said fondly.

"So, letting me in on this, and letting me feel you up - ," Eddie said.

"You're bandaging my wounds," Steve said.

"Do I or do I not have my hands all over you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, then I guess that means Nancy's feeling me up," Steve said.

"I'm not going to lie, Steve," Nancy said seriously, and Eddie laughed.

"I guess that means we're friends now," Eddie said.

"No," Steve said quickly, and Eddie frowned. "I mean, yes. . .I like you, Eddie."

"I like you, too. What's the problem?" He asked.

"No, I like you," Steve said.

"Okay. . .you said like differently that time. What are you trying to imply here?" Eddie asked.

"I like-like you, Eddie," he said.

"Okay, so you really like me," he said. "So, why can't we be friends?"

"I'm romantically and sexually attracted to you," Steve replied with a loud sigh.

"What! But Nancy - ," Eddie said with wide eyes. "I thought - ,"

"Oh, no, I'm still very much in love with her," Steve said. "So, yeah, all very confusing. . .although, I guess not, really. I definitely have a type. . .nerds with big hair and big eyes that make you fall for them."

Nancy laughed.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I definitely think you were crushing on Tom Cruise just as much as I was," Nancy said.

"Shit, I think you're right. I've never been straight," Steve said, laughing.

"What? Did you think I turned you queer?" Eddie asked.

"Like magic," Steve said with a goofy grin.

Eddie and Nancy laughed as they finished wrapping up Steve. They helped him up off the floor before helping him back into his shirt and jacket.

"You're good to go, bug boy," Eddie said, his hand caressing Steve’s collar. "I mean, big boy - fuck, I meant, well, you know what I meant."

"I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything about this or feel like you have to. . .I just thought I should be honest. I was just completely honest with myself, and I wanted to do the same with you guys," Steve said. "You both have inspired me to be myself and realize what's important. Eddie, more recently, and Nancy, well, back then, she gave me the bump on the head that I needed to see what it truly means to be a friend. I mean, I know that I'm slow, but I learn. . .according to my mother, I used to crawl backwards, I went so far backward that I ended up falling down the stairs. Eventually, I do move forward. So, I'll be okay."

Eddie smiled sweetly at him, playing with the collar of Steve’s jacket. Nancy placed a hand on Steve’s arm, also smiling at him.

"So, in that dream of yours. . .," Nancy said.

"With his six little chicken nuggets," Eddie said in amusement.

"Were you serious about that?" Nancy asked.

"I meant every word," Steve said to Nancy. "Left out an important part, though. . .the most important part. . .you were there. . .you've always been there."

Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, leaning in close to him.

"I know that we've just started getting to know each other. . .," Eddie trailed off.

"There's room in the RV. . .hm, I could use some convincing, though," Steve smirked.

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him. Steve smiled against his lips as he returned the kiss, placing his hand against the small of Eddie's back. Eddie ran his tongue over the bottom of Steve’s lip, and Steve opened his mouth with a gasp, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. Suddenly, Eddie pulled back.

"That's what you meant by convincing you. . .right?" Eddie asked and Steve laughed.

"Yeah, Eddie, that's what I meant," Steve said.

"I think I'm definitely going to need some convincing," Nancy said, her cheeks red.

"You are?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Steve wanted me in the RV first," Nancy smirked.

"Trying to make this into a competition, Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

"What if I am, Munson?" Nancy asked as she stared directly into his eyes.

Eddie grinned and pulled her flush against him. They each kept a hand on Steve while they held onto each other. Eddie pressed his lips to Nancy's, smirking into the kiss. Steve felt the warmth inside his stomach grow stronger at the sight of them. He should have been jealous, but there was no jealousy here, only longing for the both of them. Their hands clutched each of his shoulders tightly as Nancy deepened the kiss. Nancy and Eddie's hands slid into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve moaned softly as he felt them gently tug at it. Eddie pulled away with a gasp.

"Is that enough to convince you, or do you need more?" Eddie asked.

"I think we've both been convinced," Nancy laughed as she looked at Steve's face. "Haven't we?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve said.

Nancy touched Steve’s face gently and kissed him. It was sweet and soft until Nancy pressed her lips further against his, eager to taste him again. God, how he missed her lips and the way she gently touched his face. He wanted to keep kissing her, but his head was starting to spin. He broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked.

"I feel a little dizzy," Steve said. "I think I need to sit down."

Nancy and Eddie guided him to the couch. Steve couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, so Eddie quickly found a can of Spaghetti-os and a bottle of water. It wasn't the best, but it made Steve feel better. Yeah, it wasn't a good idea to forget to eat after losing all that blood, Steve thought as he scooped food into his mouth.

"You feeling better?" Nancy asked after he finished and set the empty can aside.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"I should have gotten you some food. . .I didn't think about the blood loss," Nancy frowned.

"Hey, I didn't think about it either," Steve said. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Honestly, I thought you were getting dizzy because of us, and I felt cocky for a moment," Eddie smirked.

"Hm, well, maybe a little," Steve grinned.

Nancy ran her fingers through Steve’s hair, looking at him fondly.

"I almost lost you," Nancy said.

"Eddie said that you didn't hesitate at all to jump in after me," Steve said. "Said it was. . .an unambiguous sign of true love."

"Well, he was right about that," Nancy said with a smile as she continued to stroke his hair. "I couldn't lose you. I spent a lot of time letting other people get in my head. . .as much as I try to tell myself that I don't care what others think, I do. I spent a lot of time letting those voices convince me that I was going to end up in a nuclear loveless family. I was so afraid of that happening. . .that I let it happen. Our relationship was wonderful, and I loved every minute of it. . .the one thing that got in my way was myself and the fact that those assholes got away with killing Barb. When you got yanked underneath the water, when the bats came after, I just couldn't you go. . .I realized that it was always you, Steve. So, yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too," Steve said.

Nancy leaned forward and kissed him, tucking a hair behind his ear. She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against Steve’s.

"I am not quite there yet," Eddie said, grinning. "But I feel a great deal of affection for the both of you."

"There's no pressure, Eddie," Steve laughed.

"You know, I kind of like that you both are further along in this relationship than I am. It's almost like you two are the dungeon masters and I'm the player. . .," Eddie frowned. "I think I just turned myself on."

"I wouldn't even know how to be a dungeon master," Steve said.

"I'll show you," Nancy grinned. "It's not that different from leading a basketball team."

"You take that back, Wheeler," Eddie gasped.

"No!" Nancy laughed.

Eddie leaned back and crossed his arms, fake pouting. Steve and Nancy stared at him, watching the sun begin to sink down. . .a reminder for all of them that their mission to take down Vecna would soon begin. Eddie's face turned serious.

"You might be onto something. . .I kind of wish that I had gone to the game. Wish I had been more accommodating to Lucas, let him know that he wasn't turning to the dark side. . .it was a shitty thing to do. I think I was so afraid of forced conformity that I ended up feeling like Lucas had to choose one or the other when he didn't have to. As the leader of Hellfire, I was responsible for giving those kids a safe place for them to share their interests even if they didn't align with mine," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I think we were both afraid of forced conformity," Nancy said as she twirled a lock of Steve’s hair between her fingers.

"Hey, man, Lucas knows you didn't intend to be an asshole about it," Steve said. "He knows how protective you are of the game. As much as I tried to talk about it with him, Lucas just wanted the bullying to stop, and he still wanted to hang on to the game. You just don't know how much harder it is for him."

"Yeah," Eddie winced. "Jeff pointed that out as a possibility when I was complaining about it."

"He sees what kind of person Jason is now, though," Steve said. "And he also knows that he was wrong, too. . .which I think is something that you two really need to talk about."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed.

Steve could feel Nancy's eyes on both of them.

"Boys," she sighed happily.

"Aren't you glad Robin pushed me into Eddie's lips?" Steve asked.

"What?" She laughed.

"You didn't see that earlier? Eddie was getting the RV started up, and Robin tripped, causing my lips to meet with Eddie's," Steve said.

"Is that what made you realize you liked me?" Eddie asked, laughing.

"Yeah, I totally wanted to kiss you again," Steve said. "What made you realize that you liked me?"

"When you ripped off your shirt like a fucking stripper," Eddie said rolling his eyes. "You know you look good, asshole. It was the wrong fucking time to have a sexuality crisis and you gave it to me. Between you and Nancy. . .watching her swing that oar around like a sword. . .yeah, I definitely still liked women. So, thank you, you guys gave me a lot to panic about."

"You're welcome," Nancy and Steve said in amusement.

"The moment I realized I liked both of you, actually isn't that much different," Nancy said in amusement. "I both caught you with romance novels. . .of course, it was a long time ago with Steve and earlier this year with Eddie."

"Really?!" They asked, and they looked at each other. "You?!"

"I don't know why you're so surprised," Steve scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. "You heard about my dream. . .of course, I'm a romantic. I don't know why I'm surprised about you. . .cynical, my ass, of course you're a romantic. . .unambiguous sign of true love."

"I am never going to live that down," Eddie groaned and threw up his hands. "Okay! Jesus H Christ, I love love!"

"I think it's sweet," Nancy smiled. "Now, more than ever, we need to believe in love. Whether it's familial, romantic, or strictly platonic."

"Like me and Robin," Steve said with a goofy grin. "Platonic with a - "

" - capital p!" Nancy and Eddie exclaimed.

"Yes, we know," Nancy said. "It's strictly platonic with me and Robin, too. I definitely love her."

"Oh me, too!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, she's great," Steve grinned and then frowned. "But there's no one like me and Robin. . .I found her first."

"Of course," Nancy giggled.

Steve leaned back against the couch, smiling at the both of them. Eddie and Nancy were talking over him now, their hands over his knees. They were discussing the things to come, Vecna, and what had already happened. Steve listened to them both as Eddie talked about his guilt over Chrissy's death, his feelings, while Nancy did the same about her own guilt over Barb's death and how she had felt about Barb. Steve placed a hand over Nancy's and Eddie's back. They leaned into his touch, letting him know that they appreciated his silent reassurance. Whatever happened, they were going to get through it together.

[daenerys-apolog1st]

My Thoughts on the Driftmark Situation

So, first of all, I feel like it's important to note in this situation that everyone involved in the initial fight was a CHILD---Luce was 4-5, Jace was 6-7, we can assume that Baela and Rhaena were of similar ages to them, and Aemond was 11-12. It's ridiculous to expect children, especially grieving children who just lost their mother, to act logically and with the same maturity/emotional intelligence as grown ass adults---children are children and they're going to react to things as such, which often means they're going to go with their gut reactions, which means they're going to make mistakes and stupid decisions.

Aemond, when claiming Vhagar, wasn't thinking at all about- "hey, Baela and Rhaena's mom just died and this was her dragon, it'd probably be a dick move to claim it on the NIGHT OF HER FUNERAL" -he was just thinking that he didn't have a dragon, here was a dragon, and he wanted it. His thoughts didn't extend to anyone else, anything else, or the fact that it was incredibly dangerous for him to be doing that.

Baela and Rhaena, when waking up Jace and Luce to go confront Aemond, were not thinking- "hey, it'd probably be unfair to go confront and/or fight Aemond for claiming Vhagar, and this is probably a situation we should talk to our parents/grandparents about" -they were thinking that their mother just died and someone just stole her dragon, one of the few things they have of her, which they wanted to try and let Rhaena claim since she didn't have one. Their thoughts didn't extend to whether or not confronting Aemond was a bad idea, just that they were angry and upset.

Jace and Luce, when woken up, weren't thinking- "hey, we should go get a trusted adult to help us figure this out" -they were thinking that Baela and Rhaena were angry and upset, that they needed help, so they went to help them. Furthermore, in the fight, Luce wasn't thinking- "ah yes, I want to cut out Aemond's eye as punishment and because I'm an asshole" -he was thinking that Aemond was threatening his brother's life, he was scared, and he needed to protect him---he didn't aim for his eye on purpose, it was a gut move done to try and protect his brother and it just so happened to hit his eye.

Again, these were CHILDREN, they weren't thinking with the same level-headedness or maturity that we should expect from adults---everything that happened was an accident, and I place the blame firmly on the ADULTS in the situation.

Firstly, WHERE WERE THE KNIGHTS?

We know that Criston Cole was supposed to be on the night's watch, but clearly he wasn't doing his job if one of the king's sons can sneak out into the middle of nowhere and claim a dragon, the king's grandsons and his nieces can sneak out of the castle as well, and all five of them can get in a brawl.

Even excluding him, though, where were the other knights on watch? Seriously, where were they? None of it would've happened if they were doing their damn jobs, if I were Viserys I would've sent everyone who was supposed to be on watch to the Wall and found different knights to protect me and my blood because CLEARLY the guys I've got don't give a damn.

From there, though, I think that the other adults---mainly Alicent, but also Rhaenyra---handled things completely wrong.

Firstly, to everyone that says- "oh Viserys didn't care about Aemond getting hurt, he didn't do anything about it" -did y'all forget the part where he was livid and RAILING against the guards for allowing the fight to happen? For allowing "his blood" to get hurt? Him literally shouting at them at the top of his lungs asking what the fuck happened? That seems pretty angry to me.

Viserys, surprisingly, was like the only adult aside from Corlys and Rhaenys- (who were focused on making sure Baela and Rhaena were okay) -that actually handled the situation the way it should've been handled---which is definitely a shocker, considering how he usually handles things. Viserys blamed the ADULTS in the situation who allowed it to happen---what Team Green calls him "not caring/doing nothing" is him not being willing to carve out his 4-5 year old grandson's eye for an accident.

Which then brings me to everything else that happened.

Alicent was 100% in the wrong here.

Was it wrong for her to be angry and upset that her child was hurt? Absolutely not, I'd expect nothing less from a mother.

Was it wrong for her to go after a 4-5 year old with a knife? Yes, I don't even know why this is a discussion.

Alicent spent every day of her children's lives sewing hatred in them, insulting and mistreating Rhaenyra and her children, and spreading rumors that could get Rhaenyra and her children killed---yet somehow she's surprised when her children repeat what she's taught them and that gets them in trouble. Viserys told her to shut the fuck up about bastardy and backed up Rhaenyra's kids as legit- (which they were in every way that mattered, as detailed in my post here) -which should've been the end of it, but Alicent didn't shut up and she's shocked that Viserys is pissed that now she has their kids repeating her bullshit?

Viserys didn't yell at Aemond, like TG said he did, he asked him a question about who was spreading the bastard rumors. Furthermore, Rhaenyra didn't say Aemond should be tortured, she said "questioned sharply" in a defensive response to Alicent saying that they should take Luce's eye out---it wasn't a genuine want to harm Aemond, it was an attempt to get the attention off of Luce.

Even Aemond, who is literally the one injured here, tells Alicent to stop and that he doesn't care about his eye because he got a dragon out of it anyway---could he be lying? Sure, but even if he was it shows that he wanted Alicent to stop what she was doing, since we can assume that IF he was lying he was doing it to calm her down/end the situation.

Alicent is the one making things worse and escalating things here and, again, while I don't blame her for being angry and upset and protective, I DO blame her for trying to maim a toddler for something he didn't do on purpose and ONLY did because he thought his brother's life was in danger.

If she wanted to be pissed at someone she should've been pissed at Criston and the other knights who, again, were supposed to be watching those kids---the only reason any of this happened was because they weren't doing their damn jobs. Hell, she could've theoretically even directed her anger at Rhaenyra or Viserys or Corlys or ANY of the other adults in the room, but instead she directed her anger at a CHILD and wanted said child harmed to soothe her anger. That isn't excusable and I'm not going to pretend it is.

And two other things that not a lot of people mention before I move on:

1. Alicent was cruel towards the Velaryon family in this situation as well. Corlys and Rhaenys had just buried their DAUGHTER, Laenor had just buried his SISTER, and yet the first thing she does when someone asks where Laenor is is imply that he's not only having sex---of all things---but with LITTLE BOYS. She is a guest in the Velaryon household, yet she disrespects their son who is very obviously torn apart and grieving his sister, on THE NIGHT OF SAID SISTER'S FUNERAL. Like it's clear that she doesn't give a shit about decorum or kindness or whatever else her stans claim, she'll just take any chance to take a shot at Rhaenyra's loved ones.

And 2. people go on and on about how terrible a father Viserys was because he "yelled at Aemond" (aka asked him a question), but Alicent literally slapped, yelled at, and blamed Aegon for the situation when he was literally also a kid who shouldn't have been held responsible for something he didn't even know was going on! I don't think Viserys was a good father either, but at least hold Alicent to the same parenting standards if you're gonna use Driftmark as an example.

Moving on-

My main gripe with Rhaenyra in this situation is that she should've kept her mouth shut.

After Viserys handled the situation and, mostly, calmed everything down, making that- "thank you, father" -comment was a potshot and I personally think she did it because, after Alicent tormenting her for 10+ years, she wanted to throw it in her face that Viserys wouldn't just let her do ANYTHING she wanted---even if he did give her a lot of leeway. Still, whatever the reasons, Rhae should've just let it be and left with her kids instead of making that comment and intentionally antagonizing Alicent.

We don't know if Alicent would've tried to maim Luce if Rhaenyra didn't make the comment, I personally could see it go either way, but Rhaenyra making that comment ENSURED that Alicent went for the knife. Maybe Rhaenyra didn't know exactly what Alicent would do, but I find it hard to believe that Rhaenyra didn't think she'd do SOMETHING in retaliation. Again, Rhaenyra should've just kept quiet.

Afterwards, though, when Alicent goes for Luce and starts making her speech, I am again on Rhaenyra's side.

Alicent says that she has done nothing but uphold the realm and the family, and that she has sacrificed everything to do so---which, frankly, isn't true. While I 100% sympathize with her situation when she was younger, especially given that she was essentially pimped out to an old man by her father, Alicent is a grown woman by this time and her actions as an ADULT have only been petty, cruel, and led them down a path to war and suffering.

Alicent has done nothing but split their family apart---from tormenting Rhaenyra and her family for 10+ years, to spreading the bastard rumors, spitting in the face of Rhaenyra's every attempt to make peace, publically humiliating Rhaenyra several times, filling Aegon and Aemond's heads with hate for their family, plotting to usurp Rhaenyra's throne, insulting her family behind their backs, and on and on. THAT'S NOT UPHOLDING THE FAMILY!

And upholding the Realm? Alicent has been plotting with Otto for years at that point to usurp Rhaenyra and put Aegon on the throne, and she's known about Otto's plans for even longer than that, KNOWING that usurping the throne will likely lead to war---something that will make the realm suffer in far more ways than one, and something that never really ends well. Again, that's not upholding the Realm, that's fucking it over.

And Alicent asking- "where is duty? where is sacrifice?" -is about her essentially being angry and hateful that Rhaenyra didn't lay down and suffer beside her, that Rhaenyra managed to find happiness in a patriarchal society and didn't bow to the whims of men, she fought and refused to accept the unfairness---she believed that she deserved more than to just be a wife or a broodmare, and she reached for it.

Alicent didn't find happiness in her situation and didn't reach for any sort of freedom for herself, and so she was essentially left with nothing. That is what she's mad about, that she did "everything right" and is still unhappy but Rhaenyra did what was expected of her, albeit in unconventional manners and---to Alicent---the "wrong way," and found happiness. Alicent wanted Rhaenyra to suffer WITH her, not to find happiness and some level of freedom within her confines.

Alicent is jealous of her and wants to tear her down, and because of that she doesn't see all the sacrifices that Rhaenyra DID make and also doesn't see that she could make the system work for her as well if only she'd TRY.

Rhaenyra was forcefully married to a man she didn't want, Rhaenyra lost her best friend as well as her lover in the same night and had to find her footing when there was no one she could trust, Rhaenyra overcame her debilitating fear of childbirth to provide the Realm with heirs, she and Laenor---who both did not like each other in that way, and Laenor was GAY---did try to have kids but it's implied that he's infertile so she also slept with a man she didn't want to try and do her duty, she put up with Alicent's rumors and torment and public humiliation, she even tried to make peace with Alicent despite EVERYTHING and bring the family together.

Rhaenyra did make sacrifices and did try to uphold the family and do her duty to the realm, but Alicent couldn't see that.

Alicent herself was queen, she didn't have to bow to the whims of the society she was in---she could've bent the rules a little, she could've accepted Rhaenyra's attempts at peace and tried to rebuild their relationship, she could've shut her father's conspiracies down and not allowed him to control her, she could've done the same to Larys, she could've tried to find love or---at the very least---a little peace in her life, she could've let Rhaenyra ascend the throne and BE the good queen she believed she would've been, she could've let Aegon and Aemond and Helaena live their lives in peace instead of war.

She didn't have to bow to society's expectations, she had power, she could've done that and it would've been fine! Good, even! But she couldn't see that either.

Alicent's prison was one that, after a certain point, she built herself---and she had the key to get out but wouldn't use it. Instead, she threw it out the window and blamed Rhaenyra for not doing the same. That's what that whole speech was about, not anything that Rhaenyra had actually done, not the fight, not even Aemond's eye. It was about her jealousy.

Rhaenyra's response is a culmination of all the abuse that she's suffered at Alicent's hands over the past decade coming to light- "now they see you as you are" -now everyone sees what you really think, what you've been trying to hide, now I and everyone else know that the things you've done to me have been intentionally cruel and petty and you can't hide that behind excuses anymore. You don't care about "the family" or the realm or honor or bastardy or duty or sacrifice or right or wrong, all you care about is having me suffer alongside you for the crime of fighting for more.

And, after all of that, Alicent injures the HEIR TO THE THRONE---queen or not, that's grounds for execution, especially given that Alicent is only apart of the ruling family by marriage. But we can assume that Viserys let it go because he loved Alicent and because he wanted the whole situation over and done with, he didn't want to deal with it because---again---it's that lack of backbone that keeps popping up with him.

Overall, I just think this whole situation could've been avoided if people had just done their fucking jobs and I think Team Green purposefully misrepresent what happens on Driftmark because 1. they want to be able to justify Aemond murdering Luce, even though it's not justifiable, 2. it actually shows Viserys caring about ALL of his family, including the Greens, and 3. it makes Alicent look bad.

But just as a general rule, how about we all stop blaming the kids, yeah?

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

a.n — double update cause it's a short one + apology for the contents of this chapter word count — 1.4 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

seven wednesday, january 29th

"no, i'm telling you, it's real! i read about it." devon pulls on hazel's arms as the four of you walk toward your school building. "someone talking about it in a tiktok video is not reading about it, devon." ivy laughs and devon shoves her to the side. "you believe me, right, y/n?" she turns to you and you're in this weird inbetween place where you can hear them, sort of but your mind is also in a million other places so you don't immediately answer.

"hey?" hazel rests an arm on your shoulder which halts you, "hm?" you ask and look at your three very concerned best friends. "you know we don't have to go, right? we can just..go to my house, get all the strawberry ice cream from the freezer and have a long discussion about ..cryptozoology. devon can tell us about that time she saw the loch ness monster again." she says and you smile when devon mutters something about her experience being 100% real.

"you have a perfect attendance, hazel. we are not going to tarnish that for..a boy. i'm okay." you try to sound convincing, try to convince yourself even because really, it shouldn't suck as much as it does. you knew that rafe somehow reciprocating your crush was wishful thinking. it was stupid to ever even entertain or let the idea play in your mind.

you'd had crushes before, even kissed two guys. once when you were fourteen and once when you were fifteen but looking at them never felt the same way as looking at rafe and you had never even come close to kissing him.

"but—"

"no. let's go." you force the three girls forward. you were first in your class, first in your entire grade, you singlehandedly organise almost every major and minor event at this school, you process all the complaints and changes students want almost weekly, you help your parents at home, you work at a bakery on saturdays, you volunteer on sundays. you are resilient and capable and rafe cameron is not going to bat his eyelashes and break you in one month of knowing him. it just wasn't going to happen. it couldn't.

you could avoid him, you think as you walk into the school building. right? this school was fairly big and truth be told, before you started tutoring, rafe didn't really stand out to you. things could go back to that time. they had too.

the first four hours went perfectly. you passed by the office and helped sandy with some paperwork until class started, then you went to class and were able to avoid him during the break as well.

you got nervous when lunchtime came around. you and your friends usually stayed in school during lunch which meant rafe could just walk up to you in the cafeteria but there were other places you could go. you could go to the green spaces or the common area. maybe even the bleachers in the basketball court though you never really liked the smell in there.

you eventually chose the green space. it was quiet and calm, just what you needed. you and your friends sat down and when you open your bag you realise you left your lunch in your locker. "i left my lunch in my locker, i'll be right back." you tell them and fish your key out of your bag before making your way out of the green space and down the stairs.

when you made it to the second floor, you walked to your locker, keys jiggling in your hands. "y/n?" your heart stopped at the sound of his voice, and the natural course of action when someone called your name was to stop or at least turn but you just kept walking. "uh huh?" you answered.

"hey, hold on!" he called and you heard him start to jog. you start to walk faster. "i..uhh am kinda in a hurry!"

"just wait." he grabs your wrist and whips you around. he looks unjustifiable good again. you force yourself to not make eye contact. "yes, rafe?" you find yourself saying in the most passive tone and his gaze lingers, filled with worry. "what happened yesterday? i texted you like ten times." he's visibly upset—crease between his brows, soft searching eyes boring it yours and it makes you upset and now you want to pinch yourself for being upset because you've created some kind of fucked up parasocial relationship with a guy who has no real interest in you.

"i..just wanted to go home. so, i went home." is the only thing you can come up with. it's technically the truth too. you pull your wrist away from his hand and he watches the action with a pained expression. "did something happen while i was gone? why didn't you come to me? i was going to take you home."

you shake your head nonchalantly dismissing him, "it's fine. i like walking, i barely exercise so i need it. it's absolutely fine." you're already turning around to find your locker but he's grabbing your wrist again, "why are you acting like this?" he's frustrated with you. you understand. you're acting different but you're frustrated with him too. even if you don't necessarily have the right to be. "you know i'm not that smart so stop playing fucking mind games with me."

you frown at his tone but also his choice of words. "you are smart, rafe. you're very smart." you correct, not liking it when he belittled himself. him not believing he was capable or smart was the whole reason he needed tutoring in the first place.

"yet i can't piece together why you're mad at me." he says, his tone displeased and you shake your head, finding his eyes. you find yourself wanting to appease him, wanting to make him feel better. you hate that he's upset, it coils something deep inside of you. "i am not mad. i'm not upset, i just..i didn't want to—" it was baffling how much you struggled to come up with a lie. you weren't a liar, okay? "i-i saw you, i saw..that you were, you were.. and i j-just—" you stammered and threw your head back in frustration.

he stared at you, eyes wide and expecting. "you just..what? how am i meant to fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"you haven't done anything wrong; if anything it's me. i—"

"you what? you didn't have fun? did someone hurt you?"

"no one did anything." you murmur and it seems to be what pushes him over the edge, "then what's wrong?" he snaps, his apparent annoyance bursting at the seams.

"nothing is wrong. there is nothing to fix, i just wanted to go home so i went home!" you yelled suddenly and rafe along with the couple of people still in the hallway stared at you in what could only be describe as utter surprise. "sorry..i'm sorry." you tried to collect whatever pride you still had and turned on your heel abandoning your food completely.

it started slowly. just slow breaths as you walked up the stairs, then that pit in your throat when you were on the third floor, followed by tears in your eyes that you were frantically trying to blink away on the fourth floor, and when you finally made it to green space, the tears were streaming down your cheeks and hazel was already standing up before you'd even made it to the table. "oh, no, sweetheart," she's pulling you in your arms and the dam just breaks and you're letting out everything you'd been holding in since that stupid bonfire. "it's okay, i'm so sorry, you're okay." her comforting whispers and gentle kisses are muffled and overshadowed by the way you're crying in her arms.

you feel ivy and devon's hands on your back, rubbing slow circles, "we got you," you feel a warm hug from behind and one on the side. you're completely cooped up, unable to even see anymore light, just little cracks. either way your vision is blurry with tears. "i w-wanna go h-home.." you hiccup in hazel's neck and you can feel her nodding. "we'll go home. we're going home."

hazel's parents are surprised to see the four of you home but when they see which state you're in, they barely question it. her mom orders take out, the junkiest junk food they can find, she calls your mom to tell her where you are, you pile onto the couch and they don't mention rafe once. you have a six-hour-long discussion about cryptozoology and the science behind mythical creatures.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3