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#and i only did that because they decided to play a game and divide the teams into boys vs girls

taintandviolent · 7 hours

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Lime Green Jell-O; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Reader is in a situationship with Peter Maximoff. It's been casual on both ends, or so you thought. You think he's jealous and you decide to tease a little hard. Peter can't take the heat, though.

word count: 2K!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of jealousy, possible jealousy kink.

a/n: anonymous request! you guys keep asking me to write Peter, and I'm nervous every single time, istg. I hope it delivered, and you enjoyed reading it! ps: dividers are by firefly-graphics!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

Peter sat bolt upright, as if you’d just announced the most horrible thing in the world. Which to him, you had.

"So, you've been seeing other guys?" Peter asked painfully casually, working overtime to control the pitch of his voice. Any hint of his true feelings and he'd be done for.

You scoffed, feigning offense. "Of course I have." You gulped down the last bit of soda, and crawled over on the bed to throw it in the bin. Most of your free days were spent in his room, fooling around, playing video games with him, and watching whatever cheesy movie he’d put on. He seemed to think you had extra free-time that you’d spent with other guys.

Though it was only a nano-second, Peter's brows furrowed, and his lips frowned. You narrowed your eyes, and he immediately shifted in his jacket, returning to his previous state. No way she saw that. No way -- it was too fast. He darted to the bed, standing in front of you.

Getting to your knees, you squared up. Inhaled and closed your mouth, crossing your arms firmly across your chest, underneath your breasts. Your shirt was low-cut enough that he saw the shift in your cleavage. He clenched his jaw, averting his dark eyes elsewhere. This wasn’t the time to start getting a stiffie.

"Peter," you started, a reprimanding tone in your voice. If he was going to pull the loyalty card now… you smirked. "The first time we hooked up you said, and..." You brought your fingers up to make quotes in the air, in front of his face. "I quote: 'Nothin' serious, babe'. So....."

Damn. Peter pushed his lips forward, nodding. "Right, yeah, I did say that. And I so totally meant it."

"Good, so… you shouldn't care if things are getting pretty serious with one of them. Like... really serious. Serious enough that we might have to stop hanging out as much." Bam. Mic drop.

That was a lie; a blatant one. Little did he know, you had been dating casually, but doing so completely uninterested. No one had matched your silver speedster; not in sex, not in personality, not in anything. He had zipped his way into your heart and wasn’t leaving. You weren’t about to let him know that though, and decided to dig a little deeper with the teasing. He was cute when he was jealous… which he was. You knew it.

Instead of confessing everything right then and there, Peter stiffened and mirrored your position; arms crossed over his muscled chest. He shook his head and shrugged. Cool as cucumber. No way were you winning this one.

You smirked again, this time, raising a single brow. "Are you... jealous, Maximoff?"

"Pffffbfbbtbt." Peter blew air through his lips, slicing his hand through the air like he was swatting a fly away. "Totally not jealous."

"Good, because if you were, you'd hate to hear that Tommy and I went on the most adorable date the other night, and he was --"

His hands flew up, waving slightly. "Woah, don't need to hear the deetz, babe. No thanks."

"Oh no? I think you are jealous... I absolutely think you are, because..."

Peter's fingers shushed you, smushing into the fullness of your pout. He didn't want to hear the (probably one-hundred percent correct) explanation that followed the 'because'. Your eyebrows flew up on your forehead, expectantly. You tried to speak through his finger, but he pressed harder. Peter screwed up his expression before rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. He huffed a breath, and looked back at you.

You yanked your face away, narrowing your eyes into knowing slits. You barked out a laugh, unable to control it. He had always been a terrible liar, but this took the cake. “Oh, you totally are. You are lime-green Jell-o, Peter.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.” You jabbed your index finger into his pec. “You so are.”

He huffed and dropped his arms. You weren’t budging, and if he kept up, you’d win. He knew it, you knew it. It was a good old-fashioned standoff. You cocked your hip out to the side.

"Okay, so maybe I am jealous. Fine. Sure. Whatever. Now, c'mere."

Exhaling heavy over his bottom lip, Peter took hold of your face and pulled you into a warm kiss. The tips of his fingers stroked your hairline, urging you closer to him - as close as he could get you without melting into you. Surprised, your eyes widened into the kiss, but after a few seconds, you couldn’t help but melt into him.

"Peter, Peter," you murmured into his lips, pushing away slightly to look over his face with a weighted gaze. "You're really jealous?"

Saying nothing, he nodded heavily and went back to kissing you, his tongue slipping along your bottom lip before breaching. You whimpered into his lips, the vibration tickling slightly. Peter pressed his chin into yours, gently forcing you to scoot backwards on the bed. The kiss deepened for a moment before Peter broke it, his dark orbs scanning your face.

“Yeah,” he whispered over your lips before urging your back against the mattress. “I am super jell-o…” He mocked.

“Want you for myself. All for myself. Okay? Just… lemme’...”

Peter nuzzled your neck, soft lips ghosting the skin and peppering kisses from your ear lobe down to your collarbone. Just above there, he began suckling the skin, pulling it into his mouth. He sucked harder and harder until you finally yelped, jerking your head away slightly. The skin left his mouth with a wet pop.

"Ow! Peter, what are you doing?"

"Markin' my territory.... err.... something." He pulled back to look at his handiwork. The skin where he'd been sucking was scarlet, heading to purple, and by that evening, it would be a wicked bruise. A little gift for whoever you saw next, if it wasn't him.

He grinned as you rubbed at the skin, feeling the tenderness of it. “Did you just give me a hickey?”

“Maaaybe.”

“You dork,” you murmured. Peter crushed his lips against yours again, inhaling your scent. His hands trailed up your waist, gripping it hungrily. This is exactly what you’d thought about earlier; every time he touched you, it felt electric, and nobody had even come close to that sensation. You bucked your hips up into his, grinding against the tent in his sweatpants. Peter pressed back against you, hissing through his teeth at the sudden welcome friction. Beneath the fabric, you felt the heat and pressure of his hardening cock and whined.

“What the heck d’ya want, babe? What am I doin’ wrong here? You want a romantic? You want a casanova?”

“No,” you started, raking your nail along his t-shirt, the fabric catching underneath your nail and exposing his luscious neck just a little bit. “I just want you, Peter. Only you. No other guys matter, and I only… I only said that because you said it was casual, I didn’t want to seem desperate.”

“I dunno, I think I’m actin’ pretty desperate right now.” He rutted his hips against you, his cock bumping into your cloth-covered cunt again. You bit your lip, rolling your eyes back. Every whimper, moan and mewl you made coursed through his veins, straight to his dick. They made it ache, and burn, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, dry-humping you urgently.

“Fuck me, Peter.”

Just what he wanted to hear. He nodded in response and brought his fingers to the waistband of your pajama pants, slipping inside. He drug his middle finger up along your folds, smearing your precum over the warm flesh. You were already so wet, Peter grit his teeth, slipping a single digit inside. You vocalized at the sensation, and he slipped another finger in, pumping them in and out slowly. You loved when he did that; just felt you, played with you like a little sex toy.

His nimble fingers slipped out, and began toying with your cunt, making tiny, quick circles on your swollen clit. The muscles of your thighs quivered hard and deep with every pass of the pad of his finger. He always knew how to make you writhe around, practically shivering with pleasure. You felt the wetness pooling underneath your ass and whimpered, shyly. You always got so wet around him, almost to the point of embarrassment. Peter never made fun, though; if anything, he was always delighted by it, and loved to feel it soaking through the fabric of your cute, little patterned panties.

As he flicked at your sensitive spots, your lids drooped shut, thinking about how good he was going to feel. It pressed against your hip, hard and demanding, like it was searching for somewhere to go. You couldn’t wait anymore.

“Gimmie that cock,” you whispered against his ear before nipping at his lobe. Higher than he wanted to, he whined and withdrew his fingers, planting them on your hip bone.

“Mm’yeah…. gonna’ give it to you,” he nodded, breathless. “‘Cause you want it bad, right?”

“Yeah, I do. The only one I want.”

Wasting no time, Peter freed his throbbing dick from his sweatpants. It bounced heavily in front of you, the searing hot tip pressing against your tummy. Biting your lip, you took it in your hand, giving it a few generous pumps. You then pushed his cock between your legs, lining it up with your slit and forcing the tip in for him. The action sent a shockwave through his body; he jerked up and groaned. “Fuuuuck…”

Peter threw your legs over his shoulders, angling your body up.

“C’mon, give it to me…”

He clenched his teeth and bottomed out, slamming the lower half of his toned body into yours. It filled you, stretching your walls and pressing against them in the most erotic, tantalizing way. He found a rhythm quickly, and made sure to keep it, his balls slapping against your ass as he thrust into you. You threw your head back and let out a breathy moan, pressing your head into the pillow. You swallowed, wetting your throat and looked back up at him.

Above you, Peter was extra-whiny today. Sweat collected on his forehead, beading up before ribboning down his temples. His silver hair stuck together in clumps, and when he looked from your pussy to your eyes, he smiled weakly. He was fucking you hard, harder than he usually did and you could only assume it was because he was taking out his aggression, his jealousy.

“Oooh, yeah, just like that, baby… Just like that. You’re so… you’re so jealous.” Your words were punctured by lewd moans and breaths, but you finally got out the teasing statement. Then, Peter did something he didn’t usually do. He gripped your shoulders and pulled you onto his cock over and over again, relentlessly, bucking his hips up to meet yours with every thrust. The tip of his cock hammered your cervix, hitting your deepest parts. Your jaw dropped, brows peaking together as he fucked you.

“....oh….oh my fuckin’....”

“....shit-shit-shit, Peter…”

Your pussy clenched around his cock, and you couldn’t control it. She fluttered, coating his dick in warmth. Peter groaned, closer than ever.

“You should… you should be –” You moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders. “...be jealous more often.”

That did it. Peter lost it, spurting his white heat inside of you, pumping it deep. A melody of groans between the both of you filled the room, as the thrusts slowed and the sweat dripped. He collapsed on top of you, kissing every inch of bare skin that he could find.

After a few moments, he snapped up, hands on either side of your head. He looked down at you with a quirked brow, and a mischievous smile. You grinned back at him, lust-blown and giddy. You loved these afternoons, where you just fucked each other like teenagers.

“Wanna’ play some video games? Or did you have another lame-o date planned?”

You sniggered. “The only lame-o I’m dating is you.”

#Peter Maximoff #Quicksilver #Peter Maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x you #x men movies #Quicksilver x you #Quicksilver x reader #myfics #evan peters #Peter Maximoff smut

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cowboybabeop · 1 month

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Vault-Tec Vaults; Game Origin & Location

Hi I'm going to back to my "Fallout Blog" roots. Here is a summary of all of the vaults and experiments (starting with a timeline) because I'm insane ^_^ I had to add a weird break bc I literally hit the tumblr character limit, but I used it to section off the major spoilers for the TV series :)

Timeline

The Great War: October 23rd, 2077

Fallout Bible: Compendium of added lore by the creators.

Fallout 76: 2102

Fallout 1: 2161

Fallout Tactics: 2197

Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel: 2208

Fallout 2: 2241

Fallout 3: 2277

Fallout: New Vegas: 2281

Fallout 4: 2287

Fallout TV Series: 2296

Corporate Vault - Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel - Texas

A control group vault meant for Vault-Tec employees to continue research, primarily on FEV (Forced Evolutionary Virus) during the war.

Vault 0 - Fallout Tactics - Colorado

A control group vault with geniuses kept in cryogenic stasis, with their minds interlinked into an entity called The Calculator.

Vault 3 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada

A control vault. Residents ended up opening the vault doors when the lower levels flooded. Eventually the vault was overrun by Fiends.

Vault 4 - Fallout TV series - California

A test vault that was filled with residents prior to the bombs dropping. Experimentation on human subjects led to most of the original residents being killed in a revolt. In 2296 the vault is still thriving, while kidnapping surface survivors and continuing to experiment on them. The vault offered refuge for many inhabitants of Shady Sands.

Vault 8 (Vault City) - Fallout 2 - Nevada

A control group vault that remained closed until 2241. Instead of receiving two G.E.C.K. (Garden of Eden Creation Kit) devices, Vault 8 received just one and a replacement water chip that was supposed to go to Vault 13.

Vault 11 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada

Every year the residents were told to sacrifice a fellow resident, with the threat of everyone's death if they did not. In reality, the system would praise them for NOT sacrificing an individual and the vault door would be unlocked. This message finally played after only five residents remained.

Vault 12 - Fallout 1 - California

A seemingly normal, safe vault with an ulterior motive to study the effects of radiation on the inhabitants. The door never fully sealed, and in 2083 the ghoul residents left to found Necropolis.

Vault 13 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2- California

Your home vault as the Vault Dweller. A rather normal vault, however due to a shipping mishap Vault 13 received an additional G.E.C.K. device (that was supposed to go to Vault 8) instead of a replacement water chip. Thus, leaving the Vault Dweller to leave the vault in search for a replacement when their only water chip breaks.

Vault 15 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2 - California

A vault that experimented with incredibly diverse ideologies and backgrounds. The vault became severely overpopulated in 2097 and the dwellers decided to open the door. Shady Sands was created using Vault 15's G.E.C.K. and the local raider gangs all have origins from this vault.

Vault 17 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only

Inhabitants were kidnapped and transformed into Super Mutants. Lily originates from this vault.

Vault 19 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT

Paranoia was induced by noises, lights, and segregation. The vault was divided into two sections, Red and Blue, with a separate overseer for each sector.

Vault 21 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada

An almost normal vault, with the exception of a culture and society built around gambling. All major decisions were made through gambling, with the decision to open the doors and become part of New Vegas being "won" in a game of Blackjack.

Vault 22 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT

A vault dedicated to studying agriculture. A fungus designed to kill pests on plants became capable of infected human hosts. Vault 22 is curiously green on the outside by the time The Courier arrives at the location.

Vault 24 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only

Remnants of a Vault 24 jumpsuit are found in the FNV game files.

Vault 27 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

A vault designed to be deliberately overcrowded with not enough means to sustain the inhabitants.

Vault 29 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only

Only children younger than 15 were allowed in this vault, with their parents being sent to other vaults. Harold is believed to originate from this vault.

//TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 31 - Fallout TV Series - California

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as cryogenic home for the managers and higher ups of Vault-Tec.

Vault 32 - Fallout TV Series - California

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 33. Somewhere around 2294, Vault 32 failed and the residents resorted to murder, cannibalism, or suicide.

Vault 33 - Fallout TV Series - California

Lucy MacLean's home vault. Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 32.

//END OF TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 36 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

The only food in this vault consisted of thin, watery gruel.

Vault 34 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT

The vault was purposefully overstocked with guns with the overseer being able to give/deny access to residents. This inevitably led to it's downfall, and those who revolted and raided the armory relocated above as The Boomers in 2231.

Vault 42 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

No lightbulbs over 40W were provided.

Vault 43 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

A vault containing 20 men, 10 women, and one panther.

Vault 51 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

A vault with a supercomputer as the overseer. Interference from the computer led to most of the residents being murdered by other residents.

Vault 53 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

Most equipment was designed to break down every few months in order to stress out inhabitants.

Vault 55 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

No entertainment tapes were provided.

Vault 56 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

The only entertainment tapes provided were of one terrible comedian.

Vault 63 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

The inside of the vault remains sealed, with the outside door being all that is accessible to the player character. Other parts of the vault are revealed through cut content.

Vault 65 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only

Remnants of the vault remain in Fallout 76 cut content.

Vault 68 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

The vault contained 999 men and 1 woman.

Vault 69 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only

The vault contained 999 women and 1 man.

Vault 75 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

A secret experimenting in refining human genetics through selective breeding, genetic modification, and hormonal treatments. The vault's concept was made by Stanislaus Braun.

Vault 76 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

The home vault of the player character in 76. It was a control vault, set to open after 25 years. This is when the player character leaves the vault.

Vault 77 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only

Mentioned by slavers in Paradise Falls, this vault was rumored to only contain one man and a box of puppets.

Vault 79 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

A vault dedicated to hoarding the country's gold reserves.

Vault 81 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

Designed to develop a cure for every possible sickness or ailment. Residents were unknowingly sprayed with diseases by nozzles hidden in their rooms. The first vault overseer had thought this to be cruel, cut off the scientists from the rest of the vault and cut the nozzles from spraying residents before the experiments could begin.

Vault 87 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

The original vault experiment for 87 was scrapped, and it became a research center for FEV, leaving the vault wildly radioactive and inhabited only by super mutants by the time you access it as the Lone Wanderer.

Vault 88 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

An unfinished vault inhabited by ghouls.

Vault 92 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

The best musicians were sent to this vault to "preserve musical talent", but truthfully residents were subjected to subliminal messages mixed into white noise. Eventually some of the musicians went into random, murderous, psychotic rages that led to the end of the experiment.

Vault 94 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

A vault with non-violent faith-centric inhabitants. The vault opened one year later to search for survivors. The vault became overrun by wastelanders and raiders that destroyed their G.E.C.K. and their nuclear reactor. The vault was swarmed with radiation and is now overrun by mirelurks.

Vault 95 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

A vault designed to get people clean and sober. After a successful 5 years, a Vault-Tec agent brought out a hidden stash of drugs for other residents to find.

Vault 96 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia

A vault with a focus on agriculture, animals, genetics, and mutations. The original residents were killed in a failed escape attempt, and the vault was then used by West-Tek scientist Edgar Blackburn to continue research on FEV.

Vault 100 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only

Remnants of Vault 100 can be found in game files and cut content.

Vault 101 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

The home vault for the Lone Wanderer. This vault was meant to never open and Vault 101 did not receive a G.E.C.K. However, the overseer of the vault pretty quickly broke this rule and occasional survey teams were sent to the surface. Several residents of Megaton are the result of these survey teams. Daddy James found the vault after the birth of the Lone Wanderer and negotiated his doctoral services in exchange for shelter.

Vault 106 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

Psychoactive drugs slowly released into the air of Vault 106, causing the vault to be filled with psychotic survivors by the time the Lone Wanderer visits.

Vault 108 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

A slew of experiments occurred in this vault. The elected overseer was dying of cancer, the primary power supply of the vault was scheduled to fail after 20 years, the backup power supply would not be enough to power ALL of the vault, the vault was given three times the normal amount of weapons, and the vault was not given entertainment. With a majority of scientists, one of the inner experiments involved repeatedly cloning the same man... Gary.

Vault 111 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

Your home vault as the Sole Survivor. All residents were meant to unknowingly stay in cryostasis, with scientists overlooking them. However, conflicts arose among those unfrozen, leading to the vault door eventually being opened.

Vault 112 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD

Residents lived in a virtual reality simulation to create their "perfect life" with their overseer, Stanislaus Braun, a scientist who proceeded to use the residents as playthings. Braun continuously murdered residents, then wiped their memories and reset the simulation.

Vault 114 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

An unfinished vault meant for only the wealthy. Vault-Tec exaggerated the luxury of the vault, gave residents very small rooms, communal bathing and dining areas, and a homeless drug-addicted overseer named Soup Can Harry.

Vault 118 - Fallout 4 - Maine

An Unfinished Vault meant to house both a handful of ultra-rich and hundreds of working class individuals to observe how they would interact within the same space.

Vault 120 - Fallout 4 & Fallout 76 - Mention Only

The vault itself was meant to mimic the underwater atmosphere of Bioshock. The game was cut from Fallout 4, but remnants can be found in Fallout 76 game files.

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slyratex · 3 months

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DUMB

I had always been a smart guy. IQ 180, an all As student, summa cum laude graduate, one of the youngest scientists in my faculty.

That is, until I was challenged by one of the jocks from my old school to listen to his favourite song. I had always looked down onto him for his simple taste in music and now he dared me to listen to it without giving in to the beat. ‚You cant judge what you don‘t know, right? That‘d be so stupid!‘, he mocked me when I hesitated, not knowing what I could gain from listening to something else than Mozart or Vivaldi.

I couldn‘t leave this challenge without reply, so I took the bet and listened to that tune of some guy called ‚Timmy Trumpet‘. https://youtu.be/D4m737SW2yc?si=upG5zB5Y_HKoKA9y After just one second I knew I hated this style of music. But I had to keep going to not lose the bet, so I decided to just endure this test.

‚I play my games, you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Yes, that‘s me.

‚But I don’t wanna know it, rather focus on the fun!‘

Yes, that‘s him.

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

I‘d definitely do that.

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

Did they have to repeat it so often? I just counted 26 times! Well, I think that‘s because the typical audience of that supposed ‚artist‘ can‘t memorise more lyrics than that. But just as I was thinking that, an image of said artist flashed before my eyes, looking at me as if he was swearing revenge for insulting him.

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

34! I caught my feet going with the beat and instantly stopped it. No chance he was winning this bet!

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

55! I suddenly felt like I had forgotten something. But I couldn‘t figure out what it was.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

76! I recognised that strange feeling was connected to a drop. A drop? A drop of what? A drop of temperature? No, it was actually getting rather hot and I felt the urge to pull of my shirt.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

97! Was it the beat dropping? Hell, yeah! Timmy Trumpet always dropped the beat like a pro! I didn‘t even know what dropping the beat meant, being new to all this, but who cared?

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

118! I suddenly realised what was dropping, but it was too late. With every ‚dumb‘, my IQ was dropping down! Something told me it had to be… like… half a point per repetition? Damn, that sounded like math… how many ‚dumb’s had there been? Divided by two… damn, this is hard… and subtracted from… and… 121!?! That‘s barely scratching the mark for being highly intelligent! Come on, this has to be a bad joke!

‚I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

123. A jerk. One, two, three. Just a jerk. Yeah, these are numbers I can work with. A jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. I couldn‘t stop going along with the lyrics while my old class mate smiled at me like a silly jerk.

‚I’ve got a worth in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

128 ‚dumb’s and my IQ dropped down to 114, only one standard deviance over average. No, I can‘t let him do that to me! I’m special! I have a worth in the world of the smart and educated! I‘ve got inventions to create and discoveries to make!

‚I won’t be the one you want!‘

Right!

‚If you can’t be one with dumb!‘

Oh, damn! I have to be one with dumb! Wait, that doesn‘t even make sense grammatically!‘

‚Cause I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

134! Ha! One, three, four! Haha! Did I forget one number? Hahaha! Who cares? I‘m just a jerk!

Suddenly I found myself singing out loud along with the song:

‚I play my games you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Stupid nerds wasting their time with work and learning when there are weights to be lifted, parties to be held, holes to be filled!

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun!‘

They‘re the stupid ones. I‘m the genius, because I don‘t waste time trying to be one!

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!

And my jerk bro joined in, both of us jumping and partying like idiots:

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb! But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

169! Hahaha! 69! So good! I laughed. I didn’t even know why. I just had fun. I didn’t even count anymore. And the beat dropped, and my IQ dropped, all down to 95, and we dropped our shirts and showed off our jock bodies. And while all of it dropped down, Timmy Trumpet bowed down, as an artist having finished another masterpiece.

And I bowed down in front of him, thanking him, laying my drained out IQ points to the ground before him, giving my life to him to never have any goals again than getting swole and partying half naked to his great songs.

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

And as the song faded, my favourite song from my favourite artist, my thoughts faded into simplicity, my IQ settling at a comfy 85, one standard deviance below average, right before the beginning of a light learning disability. Not that I was interested in complex stuff like that anymore. Or even able to comprehend it. All I knew was that I had reached the jerk spot, that sweet spot right between your everyday stupidity and concerning imbecility, where I was still able to manage my daily routine and training plans, but was assured to get a headache from hard stuff like… doing equations and reading science stuff. So I think I‘ll make sure to stay far away from that shit from now on!

I put the song on repeat to make my IQ click into place and lock it where it was to make sure I‘d never lose that silly happiness and fun a jerk like me enjoyed. And I proudly sang along:

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

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mvybanks · 3 months

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SAFETY NET — ch. 2

a/n: do i like this? not really, but the interesting stuff is coming in the next parts👀 NOT PROOFREAD (i’m tired and i want to go to sleep. i’ll proofread it tomorrow morning, sorry🧍🏼‍♀️)

warning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, smut (oral, unprotected shower sex oops🫣) absolute filth, this part has basically no plot

word count: 2.5k

pairing: ice hockey player!jj x college student!reader

nav safety net masterlist

safety net playlist

add yourself to my taglist <3

The crowd applauded and whistled as Nicholas Young shot the winning goal — the second for the team this season. You joined everyone else’s enthusiasm, yelling and hugging your friend next to you.

“I can’t believe we won!” Elle exclaimed, clapping in excitement while you did the same.

Finally, your eyes landed on the team captain as he skated towards his teammates to celebrate, taking his helmet off and showing off his smile and glimmering eyes. When he was close enough to the glass wall that divided the rink from the benches, he nodded at you and sent you a wink, a clear smirk on his lips that you mirrored. It was hard to keep your laughters in when the girls around you giggled and whispered about how hot JJ Maybank was, as they attempted at understanding who he was sending signals to.

It was exciting — you had began to understand that everything with JJ was exciting — exhilarating. Oh, how much you had missed having fun. Real fun, not having-sex-with-strangers fun, but going out with a guy whose hands were too greedy not to be permanently on your body, meeting new people and getting to know them, even attending sports games that you knew little to nothing about was entertaining, and, of course, the biggest bonus was the mind-blowing sex.

It had been roughly a week since you and JJ had decided to have casual sex and become friends and you were loving every second of it. He wasn’t a shy guy and he sure as hell knew how to make someone blush with just a few words. You weren’t sure how he had managed to lead you underneath his sheets everyday for the past week, but you weren’t complaining about it at all. Hell, you were highly encouraging it. JJ was a passionate guy, to say the least, and it had taken him little to no time to get to know every inch of your body like the back of his hand. That made you think about how much of a good idea being friends with benefits with him was — it was just nasty, hot sex.

—

Everyone was celebrating the victory; the bar was packed full, between friends and girls that were attending only to flirt with the whole team, other than the team themselves, one could barely walk through that amount of people. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for you in that moment, because you were locked inside a random closet (perhaps a storage?) as you let JJ eat you out as if it had been his last meal.

He was kneeling in front of you, one strong arm holding your thigh on his shoulder, while his other hand played with your entrance, making your legs shake from the pleasure. Your teeth sinked into your bottom lip, silencing the loud sounds that were threatening to come out as your fingers gripped his long locks, attempting at grounding yourself.

As soon as you had reached JJ after the game, he had whispered into your ear about how much he was aching to taste you, to have you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the way this man ate pussy. Grunting and groaning against you, he never let up, allowing his tongue to enter the tight hole while his nose bumped oh-so deliciously your clit.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he moaned before his lips wrapped around your small bundle of nerves and two of his fingers entered you, causing you to almost lose your balance as incomprehensible sounds escaped from your mouth. “Careful, you don’t want everyone to know how good I’m treating you right now, do ya?” He smirked, his fingers never halting their movement while his mouth pressed against your naked skin, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Or maybe you want that, mh? Want everyone to know how many times I can make you come on my tongue, baby? How I can make you scream just with my mouth?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the unbearable pleasure that was cursing through your whole body. “JJ, please!” Was all you managed to moan out, loud and filthy, which went straight to his hard cock. Once you finally, and almost unexpectedly, released in his mouth, he kept lapping up at your juices, absolutely drunk on the way your body shook in his hands. Finally, he got up and kissed your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue, at which you moaned once again.

“I think everyone is probably looking for you,” you whispered, still breathing heavily as a lazy smile adorned your features.

Licking his lips and looking down at your still half naked body, he clicked his tongue. “Is Elle home?” He ignored your words completely.

You lifted an eyebrow at him, “Uhm, no. I think she’s staying here at the party. Why?”

“Because we’re going to your apartment and I intend to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore,” he squeezed your thigh that he was holding against his hip, “Does that sound good to you?”

You chuckled a little, nodding, “What about the party?”

“Oh baby, what I want to do with you is much more fun.”

—

Although studying had always been your priority, spending time with JJ was too tempting to not think about it every second of every day. You had called each other even late at night, when you couldn’t sleep and all you could think about was his hands on your body. You felt like a teenager who had just found out what sex was, always wanting to get undressed as soon as his eyes landed on you.

One day, you were scrolling on your phone, bored out of your mind, as an idea popped inside your head. Grabbing your stuff, you ran to your car and began driving towards his shared apartment. You were aware that he wasn’t home just yet, for most of his time was spent practicing, but he was supposed to come back soon, which gave you enough time to plan your surprise.

Rushing inside the guys’ apartment, you giggled to yourself thinking about JJ’s reaction. “Hi, boys!” You quickly greeted the three men as your feet took you up the stairs.

“He’s not here yet!” Adam warned you, although his words were muffled by the cereal that he was eating right outside the carton box.

“I know. It’s a surprise.”

“When am I going to get one of those from you?” Nicholas interrupted, a playful grin on his lips.

“Keep dreaming, hun!” You laughed as you closed JJ’s bedroom door behind you.

Shimming out of your clothes, you laid them outside the door of his bathroom, lacy panties and bra hanging on the handle of it just to make sure that he got the point. Finally, you turned on the hot water of the shower and decided to get under it for you knew it would’ve been a matter of seconds before he would’ve come bursting through the door.

In the meantime, JJ had had the worst day. His training had been hell and Coach Benson had been breathing down his neck, all of the responsibilities and fate of his team downing on JJ’s shoulders. Barely acknowledging the existence of his roommates and teammates, he made a beeline for his room as soon as he had walked through the door.

“Woah! Tough day?” Marcus asked when he saw the team’s captain stomping up the stairs.

“Don’t really wanna talk ‘bout it.” He grumbled, but he didn’t miss the shared smirks between his friends. “What you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” Adam snickered, “Just think your day could still…pick up.”

With a confused expression, JJ only cursed under his breath and decided to ignore them, not really in the mood of listening to the idiocies of those three. The sound of running water caught his attention as he entered his room, his eyebrows knitting together. However, as his eyes caught the sight of your clothes on the floor and your underwear on the door handle, a funny feeling in his chest took over the anxiety and stress. He walked inside the bathroom and all but groaned in pleasure at the sight of your naked body only covered by the glass screen of the shower.

“Hey,” you grinned as you peeked your head to look at him, “Wanna join me?”

Plastering a cheesy smile, “God, I love this friends with benefits thing,” he sighed, already ripping his clothes off of himself. His sweat-glistening muscles made your mouth water and you were close to moaning when you saw him getting nearer and stepping inside the shower in all of his nakedness. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself pressed to the shower wall, JJ towering over you as his arms caged you in. His hungry lips didn’t waste a second before they caught yours in a breathtaking kiss. You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips at his eagerness, at which he responded by leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. Your fingers ran through his hair, another hand holding his bare waist, while you enjoyed the feeling of his own hands holding your body. The sound of your breathy moans made him move his hands down your body, groping you in the most delicious way.

“Fuck, JJ,” you moaned as you threw your head back. His skilled hands made your head spin every time and you were getting so used to the feeling.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout you all day.” He grunted against your naked skin, before grabbing your thighs in his hands and forcing you to jump until your legs were wrapped around his middle. “Want me to fuck you, baby?” JJ whispered, although the head of his cock was already lightly teasing your clit.

You looked at each other, giddy smiles on both your faces as you let out a breathless, “Yeah.”

Finally, he gave you what you were both craving for, satisfied moans vibrating through the thin walls of the room. He didn’t waste any time, moving his hips hard into yours, and getting rewarded by the loud sounds of pleasure that escaped from your swollen lips. When your own hand flew to your mouth in order to muffle your sounds, JJ was quick to remove it, swiftly grabbing both of your hands in one of his above your head, now holding your whole body with just one arm.

Chuckling in ecstasy, you looked at him with lustful eyes. “JJ, they’re all downstairs! They’re gonna hear me.”

Oh, but he didn’t care at all. His lips went back to biting and nipping at your sweet spot. “Mh,” he hummed, “Just wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

“This would be the wrong idea!” You giggled.

He trapped your earlobe between his teeth, the precise movements of his hips never faltering as he made your legs feel like jelly. “No, baby. The wrong idea would be them thinking that they could get their hands on you,” he rasped in your ear before giving you a hard thrust, “You’re mine.”

The brutal and yet perfect thrusts that followed his words caused you to moan loudly, “Yes, captain.” And that was when he lost all of his inhibitions. He let go of your hands and began fucking into you as if it had been a life or death situation, giving you all he had while grunting and moaning in your neck. You didn’t know how much of the sounds was comprehensible from downstairs but you were sure of one thing: it was impossible not to hear what JJ was doing to you, and if you had to be honest, it made your insides warmer and your body tingle knowing that they were all aware of your unholy activities. But what you loved about sex with JJ the most was how fun it was. You had almost forgotten that sex was supposed to be that, fun and satisfying, not just something you do to make your boyfriend shut up. The bathroom was filled with laughters and chuckles, along with sounds of pleasure, and you had missed feeling so free and yet intimate with a man.

As you both lied on his bed later, you rested on your side and looked down at him. With one hand you lifted the weight of your head and with the other you played with his hair, comforting him, and you slowly brought it down to his naked chest from time to time, loving the feeling of his bare skin beneath your touch.

“You’re stressed,” you whispered, brushing his hair out of his face and earning a hum from him. “What’s going on?”

He grabbed your wrist and placed a gentle kiss on it. “Nothing worth worrying about, pretty girl.”

You could tell every muscle in his body relaxed with the smallest touch from you, which was why you caressed his chest, scratching down his stomach and then up again. He all but moaned at the feeling, turning into putty in your hands. “Tell me what it is. It might help you talking about it.”

With a sigh, he reopened his eyes and gazed up at you, almost unsure that the sight before him was real. How could you have been real, anyway? “Just thinking about the new season. Coach Benson has been giving me hell and…recruitment season is starting.”

Your hand never stopped its movements, bringing comfort to the man underneath you. “Recruitment for an actual team? I mean, outside college?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “I’ve been thinking about it if I have to be honest. I don’t want to be too far from home, though.”

You nodded, acknowledging his words. “You’re amazing, Jay. I’m not an expert or anything, but I do know that you’re the best captain that the team has had in years. Anyone can see that. Even if the recruitment season doesn’t end up the way you want, which I highly doubt, I know you would still do great.”

“Jay?” He smirked, echoing the nickname that you had just used for him.

“Huh?”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?”

Your body heated up in embarrassment and you tried to hide it by rolling your eyes at him and avoiding eye contact. “Shut up.”

JJ smiled genuinely and placed your hand on his chest, keeping it there as he stared up at you, nothing but appreciation swimming in his eyes. Putting his palm against your neck, he brought your head down and connected your lips together. The kiss was soft and sweet, gentle even, completely in contrast to the way you usually found yourselves in, but you didn’t mind. In one swift motion, he rolled the two of you over, hovering above you as he never left your mouth. “You’re something else, Y/n Y/l/n.”

You softly smiled up at him, JJ’s heart missing a beat at the sight. That’s weird, he thought.

And as his stomach flipped at the sensation of your fingers lightly scratching his head, he believed that had been even worse than weird.

taglist:

@jjmaybankisbae @notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @harleyharlot @taintedxkisses @uhcallmemommy @babypoguelife @screan @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @kliness @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @lovelornanonymity @rafetopia @maybankslover @jjgaybanklover @lyndys @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @moremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @instabull @fishingirl12 @outerbankszn @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @savagemickey03 @idli-dosa @madelynie @hotchsstuff @forevermoreharrington + in the comments!

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anjellaufeyson · 3 months

Text

The truth lays within jealousy- Bellamy Blake

Warnings: basically just cursing and knife play

Summary: Bellamy's your enemy but things begin to take a turn once you start fighting to push through emotions you feel towards each other.

Bellamy Blake made my blood boil, and I prayed I made him feel the same way. I was best friends with his sister, Octavia. Meaning, I had no choice but to be in the same tent or room as him. The rivalry between Bellamy and I formed when the 100 first came to Earth. We were on dividing sides, he had everyone in his control and made them feel free but that ended dangerously. I was with the group that wanted to help and make sure we survived.

“Do you always have to disagree with me, Blake?”

He turned to look my way, his hand resting on the map below our waists laying on a table. “Do you always have to have disagreeable ideas–Kane?” He spit my last name out as if it left a bitter taste.

I’m just thankful he didn’t call me that other name, the one he knew I so deeply despised. My eyes rolled on instinct, “You’re such a dick, you are aware of that flaw right?”

He glared my way, “You always keep me aware don’t you, princess?”

I fucking hated him, “Don’t call me that, Blake.”

“What will you do if I say it again?”

My father made me train with guards on the Ark since I was a child, I could easily take Bellamy, and him forgetting that made me always want to remind him. I stabbed my knife into the wood table and as soon as I did Octavia walked in.

She moved the tent opening away, “What is going on?”

Bellamy folded his arms making his muscles fight with his shirt. I tried my best to not stare but as much as I loathed this man and wished him nothing but the absolute worst–he was the formation of my desires. And that left lingering resentment. “Your friend is threatening me, O.”

I unstuck the knife and pointed it at him from the other side of the table as I talked, “He was testing me, Tavia. It’s his favorite pastime,” I said staring harshly at Bellamy.

“How about you both go train, maybe away from each other? You can work with Murphy and I’m sure you can find someone, Bell.”

I gave a half smile, “I’m sure every–what’s the number now?” I made it look like I was deep in thought, “Like 50 girls now? Are willing to train with you, you know your way around the 100, Blake.”

Bellamy gave me dead eyes as his jaw clenched. I struck a nerve. “O, get out.”

Octavia usually hates when Bellamy orders her around just cause he's older than her but she listened without a fight this time. She knew I crossed some form of a line. She mouthed sorry to me and walked out.

I moved over to him, my knife laying close to his throat. He didn't care, he didn't even bat an eye. He almost smirked at the notion.

“Tell me, princess, was I supposed to pent up everything I was feeling like you do? Tell me, how's that going for you?”

My eyes widened a bit, “I’m sorry do you want me to just go sleeping around with every dude on this earth because what? I can’t deal with my emotions correctly?”

He bit his tongue.

“I guess maybe I should take your advice because I see how greatly it’s been going for you. The known asshole you only go to for a hit and quit it.”

Bellamy eyed me, “Is this you trying to offer up, princess?”

My breath was shaky, I scoffed, “Go float yourself.” I stormed out of the tent and went to the only place inside Arkadia where you could blow off steam. The training spot. Bellamy usually overwatches, sometimes with Lincoln so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made his way over here.

Murphy made his way over to me, “Need a partner?”

I nodded my head and decided to not take my anger out on him–at least not with words. “Yes, but I can’t promise I’ll go easy on you, Murphy.”

He smiled as he got into his stance, “I didn’t expect you to. I remember seeing you training from time to time with soldiers. I’m going to have to bring my A-game now.”

I laughed and it made me feel a bit better, say what you want about Murphy–but his sarcasm and wit will always make you laugh. I got into position and Murphy punched towards me and I moved my hand fast enough to push it away and block it. We kept going back and forth, not taking it seriously.

Soon, as expected Bellamy appeared. He crossed his arms as he analyzed our performances. Suddenly both of us began to take it a bit seriously, but I chose to ignore Bellamy. He knew I was holding back, it showed in Bellamy's face.

“Let me try.”

I ignored him but Murphy stopped fighting, I tried to regain my breath. Murphy was like Bellamy’s sidekick since the beginning, that faded and nobody tried to make an enemy of Bellamy. Like it or not he did run a lot of things we live by. Especially with Clarke gone.

He got into position and I immediately went to attack. I moved close and elbowed his face causing him to move forward. I went straight for a kick to his bent knee and easily got him down. When getting up his hand stayed on my thigh as he rised up, it was like he was purposefully trying to mess me up. That could be the only reason.

“Damn Bell, maybe she should replace you as a trainer,” Octavia said while spectating. Monty and Jasper laughed.

Bellamy stood up and hit me immediately in the gut. From the force, I took a couple of steps back, and I cursed under my breath. He shrugged with a grin forming on his lips. When he went to pull another move I grabbed his arm pointed it up, and used my left arm to push down on his arm. I twisted his shoulder and I knew I was causing pain. I had this move done to me and I was in pain for a couple of days.

For a split second, I heard a groan from him, it almost put a smile on my face. “C’mon Blake, are you even trying? If you lose this–I can only assume where you’re going to go to…or who.” Maybe it was a low blow but he pissed me off before.

My fist came towards him and he grabbed my arm tightly, almost hard enough to leave a bruise, and flipped me onto the ground. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was hanging onto this fight by a thread. I kicked his stomach and he caught my leg and tried to make me fall but I did the one trick that took me years to master–I kicked with enough force off the ground for a second to gain a stance to be able to kick him back.

Bellamy went to hit me in the face but I got to him first and elbowed him. He spit out blood and turned his head up with a grin as he wiped the blood. He tricked me and by making it seem like he was going for a low attack, I didn’t move up in time to block him and he punched me. My lip began to bleed.

“Guys, I think you should stop now. You proved you both can fight–now stop,” Octavia warned.

We ignored her warning and kept going. I was determined to beat him, and I didn’t have a real reason why. Part of me wondered if this was my only source of letting my emotions go, maybe I wasn’t that different from that man that I hated. We are both stubborn, witted, determined, quick-tempered, reckless, and aggressive.

“One hit and we’re done,” he said. “Better make yours count, princess,” he whispered. The way he made it seem, that nickname was for our ears only. He never said it loud enough for others to hear and I almost preferred it that way. And when he did, he was only focused on me. As if nobody else was on the earth with us.

My thoughts were distracted and he immediately brought me down. My back hit the ground and I winced in pain, my back arched a bit hoping that would help the pain. Before anyone could help, Bellamy quickly moved to my side. “Are you okay,” he asked almost frantically in a low voice. He sounded genuine.

The gaze I had on him changed, it softened even though I was in pain. I was utterly confused. “What are we doing,” I whispered, his back covering everyone’s view of my lips. At best, they’d hear mumbles.

“Your solution to letting your emotions out, remember?” He lightly laughed, “Fuck, we’re idiots.” Bellamy brushed his thumb on my bottom lip, “Truce?”

My brow almost furrowed, “Truce? Does that mean we suddenly don’t hate each other?”

He laughed and began to help me up, “No, definitely not. You’re still the bane of my being.”

I stood up and got my words out fast enough before everyone crowded me to see if I needed Abby, “And you’re still the only person I hate in this world.”

Bellamy slowly backed away as we kept our eyes on each other, everyone kept asking if I was okay but I didn’t reply. I was too fixated on the man I detested. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said while brushing past them. The one person who got horrendously hurt was Bellamy, yet he didn’t complain or stop them from helping me.

“I’ll help you to, Abby,” I said putting his arm around my shoulder which felt oddly–right. When I looked back to show Octavia I was going to help him, I just saw a group of disbelieving faces. I’d be shocked too, never would I have ever felt pity or thought of helping Bellamy. “I kicked your ass.”

He laughed as if he didn’t have drops of blood on his shirt, “I’d call it a fair fight.”

“I’d call it my win.”

He glanced at my lips then my eyes, we came to a halt. “You want to finish this?”

I could feel his hand brushing along my neck, “I think we’re probably banned from training together for a bit. Though I think that wasn’t a training session–that was fighting.”

Bellamy’s gaze dropped, he stared at me, almost desperate as if he was yearning for something he never even got to get ahold of for years. His touch became more apparent, he stared at my lips as he talked. “I’m not talking about in the training spot.”

My lips parted and suddenly every feeling I had for him disappeared. Only one stayed- the desire I clung to. Instead of going to Abby, Bellamy and I went into his tent.

It was as if both our strengths had been regain, like we were both pushing our limits to be ignoring our pain to mix it with pleasure. Bellamy took his shirt off with such poise and it made me roll my eyes. I started undressing myself also. My eyes lingered on his chest, God, he was so defined. Like a Greek god or a statue made out of generosity.

"My eyes are up here, princess," he said as he pushes me down onto his bed.

I didn't like how much I secretly enjoyed him calling me princess. "You're so full of it, Blake."

He kissed me roughly, as if we didn't have time to spare to be kind to one another. Our hate lingered and I loved it. I winced in pain because of my lip and that caused him to groan into my mouth. He was making it harder and harder for me to not rush this.

I switched spots with Bellamy, God forbid he lets me control one thing. I kissed down his neck being anything but gentle to the parts I knew he was going to have a bruise at tomorrow.

"Fuck," he whispered.

My hands traveled down his chest and before I could do anything he traded spots with me. "Watch yourself princess, if you keep going- I don't think I can stop myself."

"I don't want you to."

Bellamy used his knee to spread apart my legs. He put his hand around my neck and slowly pushed down so I’d be lying flat on my back. I felt my stomach growing butterflies. “I will be anything but gentle with you–” He paused and stared at my lips. “But I think you can take it.”

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake #octavia blake #oneshot #enemies to lovers #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #john murphy #bob morley #jealousy #abby griffin #clarke griffin #knife kink #Spotify

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wosoluver · 1 month

Text

Don't get sad, get even.

Part 2/? - previous - next

Patri x reader, Claudia x reader.

And then monday came. You were all getting ready to go out for training, when Patri came into the locker room. You had never seen her so pissed. You and Clau only shared a look and moved outside.

It was weird. For everyone. This had never happened before. The team divided into two groups to play against each other, after doing gym work and solo drills.

You and Piña were in one team and Patri on another.

Everyone was so confused, but no one dared to ask about it.

Mainly because you and Clau seemed totally fine. But Patri was a different story. She looked like a bull ready to charge at her target.

And she did.

She was competitive, the whole team knew. But that wasn't what she was going in for today.

She didn't care about winning.

She cared about letting out her anger.

The first 10 minutes were fine. Until Patri got a chance to foul Claudia. Pushing her to the ground.

"What the hell, Guijarro" - Said Alexia, who was captain of your group. - "You're a midfielder not a defender. There was no need for that! Chill out."

You looked over at Pina to make sure she was okay, as she nodded at you.

But you couldn't make past another 20 minutes before she did it again. But this time she went in hard. She didn't even aim for the ball, she went straight for Clau's legs.

And she let out a hiss in pain.

You were boiling at this point.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" - you screamed running to check on your friend.

"Oh look who it is!" - You could feel the venom in her words. But before you could say anything Claudia was quick on her feet.

"Shut up!" - She yelled as she pushed Patri's chest - "You've been acting like a baby throwing a tantrum all day!"

"Hey! Hey, cut it out both of you!" - Paredes said raising her voice to try and separate them.

By then coach was already coming in to intervene.

"You two, my office. Now." - Patri followed Piña in with an incredulous face.

"What's going on with the three of you? And don't lie!"

"Ale can we please talk about this later? Please?"

"Fine. But your not running from me."

But you kind of did. Once the game was over, you ran straight to Giráldez's office.

They weren't there so you guessed the scolding was over.

But when you walked in the locker room, there was the two of them, being scolded by Ale, Irene and Mario.

Since they were too busy to notice you, you went straight to shower.

When you came out, they were all doing their own thing.

"Y/N!"

You slowly turned on your heels. Like a child who was caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Can I at least put on my clothes?" - wearing nothing but the towel.

"Not this time."

"We just had a fight. Just best friends' things."

"I don't believe you. I've never seen them go at each other like that!"

"Ale, we just had a disagreement and Patri was angry Piña sided with me."

"I still don't believe you. But you three better sort this out quick." - Leaving to go to shower.

You changed quickly and went to talk to Clau.

"So?"

"We're suspended for the next game."

"Unbelievable."

You guys definitely needed to have a talk.

I know most of you want a Pina happy ending. But what would that look like for you guys? I'd love to know. I'm still deciding where to go with this one.

#woso #woso x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader #patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #fc barcelona femeni

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mysacredmuse · 3 months

Note

ive been thinking for awhile.. imagine playing UNO with aventurine and sunday as if taking a break with all the chaos shit happening in penacony LMAO

like imagine if you three are on opposite sides (terms of like storyline stuff) but one day, aventurine decides to be like ‘hey yall wanna be friends and play uno’

is it possible to write a fic about this please? no pressure, ofc

hello dear !! I can't write a full fic about that, but rather a tiny scenario, I hope that's okay :)

playing uno with sunday and aventurine, written with gender neutral reader in mind ! :)

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

The three of you absolutely despised each other given the differences in interests. However, one day you find yourself sitting in the hall of the hotel as two men sit on two chairs across of yours. Your rooms have been messed up and Sunday had to take care of it, unfortunately some other things got into the way, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence with the two of them. You scroll on your phone as Sunday sits awfully still, that guy always gave you creeps with his statue-like behavior.

Aventurine on the other hand, is completely bored out of his mind, twirling the golden coin between his fingers. You sigh in annoyance as you gaze over the reception, noticing that there is still quite the commotion.

"How about we play the game of poker?" Aventurine finally speaks up, leaning back into his chair.

"Gambling is strictly prohibited in the hotel's lobby. Please refrain from your lowly ways in here." Sunday says firmly, crossing his arms in the process.

"I am also not interested in playing poker with you, I just want my room back." you point your finger at him, slightly readjusting yourself in the chair.

"Ah friends, why so serious?"

Aventurine chuckles as he swiftly takes a pack of cards out of his inner pocket, placing it on the table.

"Is uno prohibited as well?" he asks in a playful tone, earning a grunt from Sunday. You give him a dirty look, leaning back into your chair.

"Come on! We will wait for this mess to clean up for at least an hour, might as well have some fun." he proclaims in a happier tone as he begins shuffling the cards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, slightly leaning forward as you accept your fate.

"I mean as long as we don't place bets, it wouldn't be considered a gamble, correct?" you ask in a bored tone, eyes gazing at Sunday.

"That is correct." he confirms, expression still dissatisfied.

"It's settled then! Let's be friends for a while and enjoy the game!" Aventurine says happily as he deals the cards.

Truth to be told, you never expected to see a man like Sunday hold up uno cards and race with Aventurine as to who will jump in first when a common card is on the table. Just seeing a man like Sunday hold uno cards was enough to make you chuckle. You find yourself actually enjoying this little game with the two of them.

Especially seeing Sunday's elegant demenaor crumbling as he screams at Aventurine for cheating. Then, witnessing Aventurine sneaking his hand into Sunday's pocket, stealing a golden coin once he wins. Sunday naturally scolds him about it and you find yourself having fun even more. Your laugh echoes through the lobby as the crowd slowly settles down.

At the end, you win the most rounds simply because their bickering allowed you to put more cards than you were supposed to while they weren't watching. They did find a secret stash beneath your chair, giving you quite a scolding about it.

Aventurine wasn't that serious, making a remark that you would make a good poker player only if you can cause a commotion. Not that he recommends it, but your cheating skills are admirable in his eyes. In Sunday's however, your cheating skills are absolutely despicable. So, he orders you to play a rematch with them, but no cheating and dirty tricks this time.

The room wasn't important anymore and perhaps this could become a new routine of yours in the near future.

#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #muse's writings

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bvidzsoo · 10 months

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Black Ocean

Black Ocean is a series of 8 connected oneshots happening in the same universe. Are you ready to dive in the lives of eight notorious Pirates known as Ateez?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Ateez members x female readers

Status: finished

A/N: I will start a taglist, so if you're interested, please comment on this post! Because this is a multi-chaptered series of oneshots, the female readers will be given names which will be used only if they get mentioned in a different members oneshot. You can read them as stand-alones, however, some happenings from previous oneshots will be mentioned here and there, so everything will be connected still. (divider)

1.Park Seonghwa

◆Compass of our hearts

Summary: Park Seonghwa was an orphan. The day Captain Kim found him on the shore the only thing he had with himself in the little basket was a golden compass, his mother's name craved inside it. Seonghwa cherished it dearly and worked hard to find out where he belonged to. However, as a pirate, you make a lot of enemies and you decided to make Seonghwa yours the day you stole his compass. It was your first mistake, you messed with a feared pirate. Your second mistake was not realizing that Seonghwa would find you, and take his compass back as well. (Reader is called Kim Bora in the following oneshots.)

2.Choi Jongho

◆Lullaby of the seas

Summary: Choi Jongho could be described as a dreamer; he loved folklore and fairytales. His father was a sailor and often brought his son out on the sea with himself, thus they lived off of selling fish and pearls. Jongho was well raised and always kind, a very hard-working son, therefore it came as no surprise that he accepted the job offer of a mysterious pirate when his father's house got destroyed by a storm. Jongho was quiet and didn’t bother others, did his job very well and secretly fantasized about meeting a mermaid one day. There was one tiny problem though, the seas they sailed had no mermaids in them, only vicious sirens out for the blood of unassuming pirates and sailors. (Reader is called Sunmi in the following oneshots.)

3.Choi San

◆An Imprisoned Nightingale

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

4.Kim Hongjoong

◆The Nightfury

Summary: When Captain Kim died Hongjoong was only fifteen years old. He couldn't let his father's name go in vain, he took over the ship and became the next Captain Kim, better known as The Slayer. Everyone feared Hongjoong and his crew, Ateez. Everyone except you. You met in an Inn when you both were younger and tricked him into threatening an innocent man, and then you robbed him. You thought it was funny how such a powerful and feared man was so easy to play with, so you started your little game of sabotaging Hongjoong's affairs, unknowing that you were playing with fire. Would The Nightfury or The Slayer win once their swords clashed against each other? (Reader is called Lee Yuri in the following oneshots.)

5.Jeong Yunho

◆Irrevocable Love

Summary: Jeong Yunho was always protective of what was his. After his mother's death he stopped living a happy life, his father an alcoholic, his best friend was his only hope. The two of you had grown up together and you couldn't imagine living your life without Yunho, so when he tried to sneak onto the Pirate ship and leave without you, you were beyond hurt. Yunho only wanted to protect you, but he wasn't going anywhere without you. And so, the two of you joined Ateez on their adventures, starting your own love story at the same time. (Reader is called Bae Taeri in the following oneshots.)

6.Kang Yeosang

◆Salty tears, agog whispers

Summary: Kang Yeosang was forced to flee from his once very familiar life as he killed his father. He didn't mean to do it, but he harmed his mother and Yeosang just couldn't sit and watch anymore. You have never had an easy life. You were sold off at a young age, then bought, then sold, then bought again and sold again. It was a neverending cycle. You were just a toy for men to use and then disregard of; you wanted to disappear. And one man almost granted your wish, he killed you, or so he thought...and so did you. But an angel, a kind-hearted man, saved you from your terrible fate. You found a family, just like he did so many years ago. Yeosang was your angel. (Reader is called Jung Hana in the following oneshots.)

7.Jung Wooyoung

◆Heavy is the head that wears the crown

Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)

8.Song Mingi

◆Fine Line Of Our Worlds

Summary: Song Mingi didn't choose to become a Pirate, but after getting saved by the crew, he decided to stay. Nobody at home would miss him, they didn't like him much. However, he would miss his riches dearly, teeth always aching for gold and money. He was a little kleptomaniac, it's mostly why he was punished so often back at home. But here, with Ateez, he was free to do whatever and he loved the idea. You were also rich, very rich. You had ties to the royal family, but never said much about it since it was due to your mother's bloodline, who died giving birth to you. You were daddy's little girl, always getting whatever you wanted, never reprimanded for anything. But your life was boring, you were closed inside your mansion's walls all day long and the only people you could torment to have fun were your maids, who grew tired of your antics. Let's not forget the fact that you also loved stealing. It started out as a little talent of yours when you were just a child, but growing up you realized it became a very unconscious habit. And one night, Mingi seemed to come into your life just at the right moment, sweeping your off your feet, quite literally, and taking you onto a Pirate ship, your fates interlacing forever. (Reader is called Yoon Areum in the following oneshots.)

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peakyswritings · 5 months

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VI

Summary: After the events of the previous day, Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with a truth they have refused to acknowledge for far too long.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: like in the last chapter, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, which I chose to write in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). In this case, it is the second dialogue between Nina and her mother. I’m sorry for the long wait, and thank you for bearing with me!

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

The first light of the morning filtered through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the room in a warm glow. Holding a cup of coffee in her hands, Nina stared into space, the events of the night before repeatedly playing in her mind. Tommy’s touch still lingered against her cheek, hesitant and tender as he touched her with a gentleness she had never known before. A gentleness that made her lean even closer, eager to feel more of the bare brushing of their lips, that made her wonder what it would feel like if she allowed herself to melt into him. His strong body seemed like a safe space, like something steady and reliable. But that warm, unfamiliar feeling was soon replaced by the blast of cold that suddenly hit her when he moved away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and humiliated herself for nothing. It wasn’t him that she wanted. What she wanted was to get rid of the skin-crawling feeling that Stefano’s hands had left on her, so she had clung to the first person who had offered her a hint of safety and comfort. What a fool she had been, for forgetting that the only person who could ever bring her safety and comfort was herself. For letting Stefano mess her up once again. It was all a game of power to him, he had played her like a pawn, and she had fell for it. Because Stefano did what he did to let her know that he could do everything he wanted to her, if he just decided to. With the blood boiling in her veins, she promised to herself she wouldn’t let him hold that much power over her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cave. She’d go on as if nothing happened, but without forgetting what he did. And when the right time came, she’d make him regret ever daring to lay his filthy hands on her. He had tormented her for years, tried to force her into a marriage, scared and threatened her in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. He would pay for that.

“Sei già sveglia?” (You’re up already?)

Her mother’s voice pulled Nina out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise how tight her hold around the cup’s handle had become. She loosened her grip, a sigh escaping her lips as the pain of her own nails digging in her palm eased. Sinking lower in her seat, she fixed her gaze upon a crack in the wooden table, well aware that she couldn’t escape Maria Ferrante’s ever-observant eye. “Sono andata a letto presto, ieri.” (I went to bed early, yesterday.)

The older woman walked further into the kitchen, squinting her eyes as if she had spotted something. Still carefully avoiding her gaze, Nina watched her get closer from under her lashes, until she stopped right in front of her. She let out a groan as her mother took ahold of her chin to get a better look at her face. “Che hai in faccia?” (What’s that?)

Nina gulped, her mind trying to find an excuse for the scratch that Stefano had left when he had dug his fingernails in her cheek. “È stato Winston,” she professed, turning her head to free herself from her mother’s grip. (It was Winston.)

The woman mumbled some curses towards the poor animal that, for once, was actually innocent.

“È stata colpa mia,” Nina quickly added. “L’ho fatto arrabbiare.” (It was my fault, I made him angry.)

Maria Ferrante pursed her lips in disapproval, and a frown appeared on those once beautiful features, which had started to wither way too soon under the weight of the years and of a life devoted to caring for others and never herself.

Nina had to restrain herself from breathing a sigh of relief when her mother walked over to the cupboard, letting the matter drop. But as she watched her bustling about to make breakfast for everyone, she was overwhelmed by a mounting sense of unease. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been accompanying her for as long as she could remember, yet she had never been able to figure it out. It usually rose without warning, making her head spin, sending her into a state of distress that made her feel physically sick, and she got the impression there was something deeply wrong with her life. After years of dealing with it, she had found a pattern, and she had realised that most of the times - although not always - it was connected to her mother.

All her life, Nina had feared to become like her. Always silent, always compliant as she let her husband and sons treat her like a slave, pretending not to notice the way they unconsciously looked down on her - because she was not clever, she was ignorant, she wasn’t even able to read or write. She was a wife and a mother before being a person. They loved her, but they loved her like something that belonged to them. And deep down, Nina knew she was loved the same way.

She knew the opinion they had of her was not that distant from the one they had of her mother. It didn’t matter that she had finished school, it didn’t matter how much she kept on studying and learning on her own, it didn’t matter how much she tried to prove that she was capable. She was always a woman. That limitation was the wall the stood between her and the world, and the more she tried to climb over it or walk around it, the taller and wider it grew.

To some extent, in her family, Nina was already her mother.

Standing in front of the mirror in the room that had become his in the last couple of weeks, Tommy straightened his tie, his gaze scanning his whole figure to make sure nothing was out of place. His face was freshly shaved, his suit neatly pressed, his shoes polished. The only jarring note were the purple shadows under his eyes, proof of a sleepless night. Ever since he had left Nina’s room, he had been tormented by a strange feeling of restlessness. He had hardly closed his eyes, his mind relentlessly circling around everything that had been happening in the last month, and everything that was to come. But in that endless vortex, one thought emerged above all others. How was she?

The question nagged at him, making it impossible for him to shift his attention on any other subject. From the moment he had met her, Nina had seemed to him an unbreakable force. She was fierce, and untamable, with a fire in her eyes mighty enough to burn whole cities to the ground. That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.

Almost a month had passed since his arrival in Sicily, and during time, she had slowly made her way into his head, clouding his judgment. Because he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, not when he was courting her cousin. Not when the decision had been made. But the events of that day had put him in front of a truth he had refused to acknowledge, a truth that made him feel something too close to fear.

Last last night more than ever, he couldn’t take his mind off her, off her scent, off the feeling of her soft hair brushing against his skin. Did she have any idea how hard it had been for him to pull away? That he had only left her room because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself any longer? That, had she been in a less vulnerable position, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do what every cell in his body was begging him to do?

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. There was no need to make things more difficult than they already were. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, revealing the velvety box that had been closed there for far too long. He reached for it and opened it to take a look at the ring he had bought along the necklace he had gifted Agnese a few weeks earlier, when he had declared his intention to marry her. The big diamond ring seemed to stare back at him, and his stomach clenched at the thought that it was time to do what he was expected to do. He snapped the box shut and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, telling himself there was no point in dwelling on things that had no chance to exist.

As he headed downstairs, the sound of Nina’s voice came to his ears, and his nerves started tingling with anticipation. How would she act, now? How was he supposed to act? Should he ask her how she was, or should he pretend nothing had happened, just like she told him?

He could tell there was a whole story behind what had happened with Stefano the previous day, one that he wasn’t aware of, and part of him wanted to ask her. The other part, however, feared that she might close off again, and that all the steps forward that they had taken would be erased, taking them back where they started.

Before Tommy could cross the living room, Nina came out of the kitchen, too lost in thought to notice him, at first. But once she did, she stopped in her tracks, and an unreadable expression spread over her features. For the next few seconds, they just looked at each other in complete silence, waiting for the other to say something. The small scratch on her face caught his eye, suddenly taking him back to last night, when he had ran his knuckle over it with a softness he didn’t know he possessed, when he had got the impression that her cheek had been made just to fit perfectly in the palm of his rough hand. How close she had been…

“Good morning.” Nina’s voice harshly brought him back to reality, and it was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

Tommy cleared his voice, struck by an odd feeling of guilt for indulging further in those thoughts. “Morning,” he murmured, recollecting himself. He had to remember where he was, and where his priorities stood. But it was so hard when the warmth of her body so close to his was imprinted on him, and when he could still feel the way her lips had barely brushed against his.

“I’m having lunch at Agnese’s house today,” he blurted out before he could think about what he was saying. And maybe his words had some kind of effect on her, but she was so quick to hide it that he figured he had probably imagined it.

Nina nodded, hoping that whatever she was feeling in that moment wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she was feeling, she just knew that she didn’t like it. And that it wasn’t right.

Tommy was going to propose.

That awareness knocked the air out of her lungs, and she cursed herself for feeling like that. It was wrong. And she had no right. She had to get a grip and take control of those emotions, before they irreversibly took control of her. Tommy’s icy stare seemed to be piercing right through her, making it impossible for her to focus and formulate some coherent sentence. Fucking blue eyes.

“Good,” it was all she could manage to utter.

Another heavy silence fell down upon them, and the words they really wanted to say - the words they didn’t even have the courage to tell themselves - were left hanging in the air, where they would vanish, sooner or later. Because the things left unsaid would never be real.

In the late afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table, Nina tried to keep herself busy by reading a book, but the words seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes one by one. She was too agitated to read. According to what her brothers had told her before leaving the house earlier that day, the men of the family were currently holding a meeting Tommy Shelby at Agnese’s house. They had mentioned something about Sabini and the next moves, but she had only half-listened to them, her mind occupied by something else entirely. Looking out the window, she glanced at the house on the opposite side of the shared garden, the urge to know what was happening inside it growing with each moment that passed.

“He hasn’t proposed.” Maria Ferrante stormed into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of freshly-picked figs.

Nina blinked, her train of thoughts interrupted by her mother for the second time that day. “What?”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t proposed to Agnese,” she clarified, placing the basket on the table with a thud. Under her daughter’s disconcerted stare, she took some of the figs and walked over to the sink to wash them with hasty, agitated movements. “The poor girl’s desperate, she thinks she has done something wrong.”

It took Nina more than a moment to process her mother’s words, but once she did, it took her way less to realise what that might mean. For her, for Agnese, for the future of her family. As her mind began to race in an all too familiar way, her eyes quickly scanned the room in search for something to focus on in order not to slip into the whirlpool of scattered thoughts, but the clatter caused by the older woman’s fumbling with the cutlery only added to the frenzied state of her brain. Her heart pounded in her chest, drumming in her ears, and she found herself jiggling her leg up and down to ease the tension. Finally, her attention was grabbed by the clock hanging on the wall, and in the second hand her restless gaze found something to hold on to. With each second that passed, her heart decreased its speed and the noise in her mind quietened, bringing her some relief. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a breath, glad to be back in control of herself. “This whole thing was a mistake,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Even though she was facing away from her mother, Nina could tell she had halted, because the fuss suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked, but before her daughter had the chance to answer, she placed a plate with some figs cut in half in front of her. “Eat.”

At first, Nina scrunched her nose, sure that the mere sight of food would be enough make her stomach turn. Ever since the events of the previous day, it had been too knotted up for her to feel hungry. However, as soon as the delicious smell of the fruits filled her nostrils her appetite awoke, and she was quick to take a bite. The sweet pulp melted on her tongue, and the sensation almost made her forget what she was about to say. “I mean,” she spoke again after eating the first piece. “That it isn’t the Shelbys we should’ve tried to form an alliance with.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot upwards, and a disapproving expression made its way on her face. “These things are not our concern,” she reproachfully pointed a finger at her daughter, sitting on a chair in front of her. “Your father and your uncles are doing-”

“They’re doing all the wrong things.” Nina interrupted her, slightly raising her voice. “And it is our concern. It’s our life, we should have a say in it.”

“Your father knows what’s best for this family.”

“Does he?”

Maria Ferrante crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from her daughter’s, and the silence that followed gave Nina the chance to go on. “This was a mistake, you know it too,” she added, lowering her voice again. “You might fool dad by pretending you know nothing about this business, but you can’t fool me.”

A strange glimpse crossed her mother’s eyes at her words, but it didn’t last more than an instant. Her features hardened again, and it was like that subtle, ephemeral emotion had never been there. “What I think is not important.”

This time, it was Nina who chose not to reply. It was useless, after all. Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated.

“You’re a lucky girl, Nina. You shouldn’t forget that.” Maria leaned over the table, looking her daughter right in the eyes. “Take a look around you. You have a big, nice house with a big, nice garden, and a room you can call your own. You have never known misery, nor hunger,” she paused, her gaze becoming absent, as if getting lost in some old memory. She then leaned back in her chair, staring at a point in front of her. “It feels like bites. Hunger, I mean.”

Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, letting those words sink in. Although her mother’s stark expression gave nothing away, she sensed that some old, unforgotten pain was begging to be acknowledged, and she could almost feel that pain as if it were her own.

Coming back to her senses, Maria fixed her eyes on her daughter again, her gaze displaying a fierceness that appeared almost odd on her face. “You don’t know it. You haven’t even known it during the war. That’s all thanks to your father, and what he does.”

Nina watched quietly as mother got up from her chair, starting to busy herself with what needed tidying up. “He does what he does for us. Be grateful, and don’t question his decisions.” Her voice took on a stern tone, one that brooked no arguments, indicating that the discussion was over. “And eat,” she ordered, nodding toward the plate.

Pouring the tea she had just made in a cup, Nina glanced at the clock. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but once again her brain was keeping her up, preventing her from getting some much needed sleep. She’d had lots of time to think, though, and the long, relaxing bath she had taken had helped her free her mind for a while. She could see things more clearly, now.

Her first fear had been that Tommy might decide to go on with the war, but after pondering the subject, she had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t an option. He had proposed an alliance because he knew he had no chance of winning that war, the attacks to his pubs and his men were the proof. Not to mention that if he were to decide to call everything off he would be killed on the spot. The Peaky Blinder Devil was surrounded by potential enemies, with not a single man by his side, and he had willingly put himself in that position.

Because he was not afraid to die.

That was the answer to all of her questions, the missing piece that had prevented her from fully understanding why her family feared him so much, to the point of not even considering to form an alliance with Sabini instead. Tommy Shelby was not afraid to die, therefore, he had no limitations.

But the more she seemed to be close to figuring him out, the more questions rose, and Nina couldn’t explain why - despite all her efforts not to think about him - her mind was so adamant on trying to unravel the mystery that was Tommy Shelby. She had started because she didn’t trust him, because she wanted to know what his true intentions were, because she wanted to try and anticipate his moves - something that the men of her family seemed to fail at. Now she just couldn’t stop, for what she had found was so far from what she had expected.

She couldn’t explain the deep connection she felt to him, a connection that perhaps had always been there, since the very beginning, when all she seemed to feel for him was spite. Even then, there was something drawing them towards one another, forcing them to keep on bickering and bantering, to look for those apparently insignificant quarrels and challenges. Then there were their secret meetings, those nights where time seemed to stand still, where he wasn’t Tommy Shelby, and she wasn’t Nina Ferrante, and they were almost normal people, and they were allowed to let their masks fall. She remembered every laugh he had drawn from of her with the stories of his childhood, every smile she had managed to coax out of him with her witty retorts. And she had learned he was not a Devil, like everybody called him. Behind his steely glare and the layers of ice that protected him like an armour, he was very much human.

There must’ve been a reason why every night since the first casual encounter they had left their rooms in the hope of just enjoying each other’s company. There must’ve been a reason why their eyes begged to meet every time they were in the same room, and their hands longed for the slightest touch. There must’ve been a reason why she was standing there, hoping he would walk through that door.

But that reason didn’t matter. Because in the light of the day, he was Tommy Shelby, she was Nina Ferrante, and he would marry her cousin. Soon he would go back to Birmingham, and she would stay there, going back to the life she had grown to despise. The seas between them would erase the invisible string that seemed to bind them together, and she would forget how he had made her laugh, how she had made him smile. And it would be as if her soul had never met his.

Nina’s heart increased its speed when she heard the footsteps that had become now familiar to her, and she had to remind herself that night wouldn’t be like the others. She had to push him away, restore the distance between them before it was too late. If they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

Silently, Tommy entered the kitchen. All the spontaneity their relationship had acquired over the weeks was gone, and he was unsure how to behave. He didn’t even know what had brought him there again, after he had told himself he had to stop thinking about her. Maybe the same thing that had kept him from proposing to Agnese.

Nina was standing near the table, pouring her usual awful amount of honey in her steaming cup of tea. Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy allowed himself a moment to admire the way the white cotton of her nightgown brought out her tan skin and dark hair. She seemed off guard, but he knew she was aware of his presence. Once she was done, she gazed at him, and her fiery eyes shone in the dim light, pinning him right where he stood.

“I was thirsty,” he explained after a moment of hesitation, walking further into the room.

Without saying a word, Nina took a glass from one of the cabinets and poured water in it. When she handed it to him, her fingers brushed against his, and shivers of electricity raced across his skin. With the proximity, he was engulfed by the scent of lavender and honey that had been plaguing him in his sleep, making him long for something he could never have.

He would never feel anything like that with Agnese.

Nina took a few steps back, breaking the bubble that formed every time they were close to each other. Tommy tightened his grip around the glass for a second, then placed it on the table. He didn’t need to pretend it hadn’t been just an excuse to see her. He searched for something to say, but Nina beat him to it, and what she said next felt like a stab through his chest.

“You should propose to Agnese.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was cold, distant, almost like the day they had met. Taken aback by her sudden statement, Tommy blinked, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“You’ve been courting her long enough,” she said bitterly.

Nina’s words aroused a certain anger in Tommy, the same anger he felt every time he sensed that his hand was being forced. But it wasn’t just anger, there was something else with that. “It’s not your place to decide-”

“It is my fucking place,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. “This is my family. And the more we wait, the more we give Sabini the time to act against us.”

Tommy’s expression changed, and all the annoyance she had read moments before on his face gave way to something else. He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way, taking a look around before shifting his gaze on her again. “So you’ve finally admitted it,” he he said, and the shadow of a smug smirk appeared on his face.

“Admitted what?” She seethed.

“That your family needs my family.”

Nina snorted, fighting the urge to slap the smugness out of his face. Even in a serious situation, he couldn’t resist looking for a way to get under her skin.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, averting her eyes from his. “The point is - it’s time to get this over with.” The more she spoke, the harder it became to keep her voice steady, but she did it nonetheless, attempting to sound as convincing as she could. Maybe she’d end up convincing herself as well. “And this…thing that we’re doing,” she paused, the words burning in her throat as she uttered them. “It has to stop.”

Something flashed across Tommy’s features, and Nina instantly regretted addressing the topic. A strange tension fell into the room as his face became serious again.

“This thing,” he emphasised, as if pondering her words. The way his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room awakened something inside her, and heat crept up cheeks. “Tell me,” he squinted his eyes, starting to walk in her direction with slow, measured steps. “What is it that we’re doing?”

The breath hitched in her throat, but Nina stood still in her place, forcing herself to bear his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, nodding to himself. He took another step forward, looking down at her with a hint of challenge in his eyes, almost daring her to deny what was right in front of them one more time. She was now trapped between his body and the table, and the closeness alone was enough to make his nerves tingle.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered.

God, had she ever called him by his name before? The way it rolled off her lips, along with her intoxicating scent and the feeling of her warm body - too close to ignore it but still too far away to feel it completely - threatened to destroy the last shred of his self-control. It was hanging by a thread, a thread that was about to snap at any given moment.

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.

But it didn’t take Tommy more than a few seconds to regain control of his instincts. He pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath as he was hit by the realisation of what he had just done. His jaw twitched when his gaze met Nina’s wide eyes, and an overwhelming sense of guilt - way more powerful than the one he had felt that morning - started to weigh on his conscience. Then, as if the contact of their skin had burned him, he let his hand fall and took a step back. He tried to utter an apology, but no sound came out of his mouth. For an amount of time that seemed to stretch into eternity, neither of them did anything, and the possibility of having scared her only added to Tommy’s feeling of guilt. But a second glance was enough to realise it wasn’t fear that was painted on Nina’s face. Before he had the chance to say something, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. After the initial surprise, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her closer, eager to feel every inch of her body pressing against him. Her soft mouth moved against his tenderly, with a bit of hesitation that made his head spin. Their tongues danced together as he took control of the kiss, and he felt like he could melt right there in her arms. And as much as he wanted to restrain himself, to handle her more delicately, he couldn’t. He had waited far too long.

Tommy’s scent invaded Nina’s nostrils, clouding her senses, and she feared her knees might give out as he kissed her like a man starved. It was passionate, sensual, and lit a fire inside her she had never felt before. And despite everything, it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right like the feeling of his strong frame against her.

But it wasn’t right. In a moment of clarity, Nina reluctantly broke their kiss, her lips still brushing against Tommy’s. Catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quieten the turmoil inside for her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

With great gentleness, Tommy grabbed her chin, raising her face so that she would look at him. “I’m not.”

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

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kelly-bands · 9 months

Text

summer: beach tennis & ice cream. ( CHLOE KELLY × READER )

one shot!

summary: You and Chloe Kelly are playing beach tennis, but you accidentally almost hit her.

note: i will probably do another summer fic after this one

"Fuck." You swore as you slid your digits on the sweat dripping from your forehead. It was hot as hell, but the natural wind managed to camouflage the heat hitting your body.

You and Chloe were on holiday, where you unanimously chose to spend the rest week in Bournemouth. The blonde decided to stay there on the beach, as it was one of her favorite places. It was late after lunch and the two of you were out on the sands of Bournemouth, having fun together.

The only difference was that Kelly wasn't on your side, but on the other side of the sand court.

Even if you were more worried about the sweat almost running into your eye, the sound of the ball being popped into the air drew your attention. The beach tennis ball barely arrived in your area and you dominated it with the racket, throwing it to the other side.

You were a few points behind the player, you weren't very used to playing beach games and you only started because of Chloe. The ball came back again, and this time you cut it, scoring a point.

" You've learned, finally." You could hear Kelly mocking from afar, but at the same time proud of your effort to learn to play beach tennis with her.

" Oh, don't fucking start. " You snapped. To be honest, the heat and losing were getting on your nerves; and Chloe needling you, was too.

On the other side, the only thing you heard coming out of those gorgeous lips was a stupid but cute laugh. You had no reason to be angry at losing, but at being scattered.

Playing beach tennis against Chloe Kelly boiled down to missing all the domains for spending more time enjoying that amazing fucking body worried about getting dirty with the sand.

Forget about it.

Focus. At. The. Fucking. Game.

The british returned the ball to you, it was your turn to serve. You served, the ball was stronger than the other serves you had done, but Kelly still managed to receive the ball. It quickly returned to your area, you took a few steps and threw her, pulling the racket up hard, going high the other way.

Shit. It will come with everything.

"Wait—!" You shout, surrendering and just watching Chloe jump and slash. The ball came with such force that you barely saw it. Ah, one more point for your girlfriend.

You hate to lose, you are a very competitive person. And that goes for Kelly, too. Both are competitive, you live challenging each other in any situation where there is this possibility (who drives better, who eats more or who scores more goals in the season). However, it was almost impossible to compete at Chloe's level, especially in a game you just learned.

" I thought you said you were going to take it easy on me. " You complained, at the same time reaching for the ball on the floor. Meanwhile, Kelly glared at you, not saying a word about it; just that stupid smirk on her face said it all.

" I thought you said earlier today that you were going to beat me, or rather, in your words, break me. " She returned seconds later, in the most egocentric and dry tone possible. Ah, that was one hell of a stab.

You just watched how stupid she could be when she wanted to be. This time, Chloe won. And anyone would have guessed that within seconds of you picking up that goddamn ball, getting close enough through the net divider, and throwing it with all your might at Kelly.

She managed to piss you off, and she loved seeing that in you.

But what you just did was off the charts.

Chloe defended herself by putting her racket in a shield position from the moment you crossed the court division, hitting the ball at your target. The ball was correctly aimed at the racket and dropped, and a heavy mood arrived on the court.

" Y/N… What the fuck? " The blonde asked, even knowing what answer you would give her. Kelly's brows furrowed, this was not what she was expecting.

" You're pissing me off, damn it." Correcting, you were already completely pissed off about everything. You threw the racket on the floor and sat down right there, stretching your legs and supporting your body with your hands.

Chloe abandoned the racket on the other side, crossed the court dodging the net, ducking. She slowly approached you, a little apprehensive after the whole situation. Kelly sat beside your legs stretched out, specifically facing you, crossing her legs in a butterfly position.

" I'm sorry. " Were the only words that it was possible to hear from the whisper of the blondie.

Chloe loves to piss you off, but she always stopped once you started ignoring her. " I'm going to stop being competitive with you, Y/N. " You could see Kelly's regretful expression in the middle of the words.

Oh, now you've won. You managed to make Chloe Kelly uncomfortable with your irritation.

And when Chloe is bothered, she always gives you the best excuses.

" You don't have to stop your competitive side, I love it. But, please don't be upsetting as a spoiled child. " You stated, accompanied by a playful tone. Kelly just opened a smile in response, going to caress one of your thighs.

Damn. Now you couldn't tell if it was the sand on your body or the player's hand that was tingling your skin. Your eyes moved to the woman's face, watching how this moron could fake such an action in the middle of the crowd. But that gesture ended when you stopped it by forcing your hand in over her fingers.

" I suppose that's not how you're going to earn my forgiveness, Chloe. " Actually, it was, if the two of you were in private. You whispered in grunts, as you were more concentrated preventing a heavy sigh from coming out as a result of her action.

"No? Then there is no other option! " She joked, you could tell by the giggle accompanied by the sentence. Kelly's eyes rolled, she removed her hand from your thighs.

It just clarified how you no longer knew how to differentiate which was the hotness of the moment, summer or Chloe Kelly.

Having lost the game, you wanted to make the british give a nice apology (like a kiss). You stood up, patted the sand stuck to the sweat on your body — which at this point, a few grains fell on Kelly, all this to pretend to leave. Both hands leaned on your waists, looking down at the woman before saying something.

"Good luck trying to get me to dispel that irritation. " It was almost a defiant tone. But deep down all that irritation was gone, to be honest, you didn't even want to be angry from the moment she walked up to you.

Chloe was silent for seconds, as if you were thinking of your best move to counter the challenge, and it made you, honestly, anxious.

Blue eyes lifted upward, trying to reach yours. What the fuck is Chloe Kelly planning?!

" Ice cream? " She asked genuinely.

What? Was that all?

You nodded in agreement, with a bit of indignation. Your head tilted to the side, after all, you expected a different attitude, like, what the fuck was that.

Where the fuck is the apology kiss?

You were positioned a few meters from the court, so you remained there under the umbrella, waiting for your girlfriend to return with the ice creams. Your eyes fell on the marked sand, where you two were sitting earlier. To be honest, you expected a kiss of apologies, like she always does when she pisses you off. In the end, you just were at ease.

" Did you really take it seriously...? " You asked muttering to yourself, while drawing randomly in the sand. A drop of guilt rose in your head after consciously thinking about your previous actions.

" No. " A sweet and gentle voice appeared behind you. It was impossible not to recognize your girlfriend's british accent.

You cracked a little smile after looking up and seeing her figure, Kelly was holding two ice creams, one strawberry and cherry and the other mint and chocolate. She passed by your side and sat there, propped up into you and passing you the mint ice cream. All of a sudden, you weren't even mad at her or whatever had gotten into you.

" They didn't have pineapple flavor, but you like mint too, so I took it. " Chloe spoke with such precision and certainty about the flavors. It was those little details that you loved most about Kelly, how she paid so much attention to the little details about you.

" Thank you. " You said it and left to taste the ice cream, which, by some chance, was the best thing in the world.

" You remembered. " Murmured beside Kelly.

" Hm? What? " She turned to face you, raising one of her eyebrows as she wiped her lips with her napkin.

" Of my two favorite flavors of ice cream. " You rested your head on the player's collarbone, taking more licks of the mint ice cream you held with your left hand, as with your right hand you slowly rested it on Chloe's thigh.

" Oh, that. " She whispered through the teeth of rabbits she had, returning to face the sandy floor.

" Whenever we went out to the ice cream parlors, you would ask for one of these two. " Kelly reminisced about all the times the two of you went out to the ice cream parlors on your days off.

" I'm sorry about before. It wasn't my intention…" You apologized, breaking the very challenge you'd committed yourself to. Your voice was as honest and sweet as an angel's. You lifted your head and turned enough to face your girlfriend. " I'll try to learn without accidentally trying to hit you. "

" You worry too much about this, Y/N. It's not like you're strong enough to hurt me, you know. " Chloe teased the difference in muscle and strength, which was pretty clear. "Forget about it. Finish the ice cream and then we'll start from scratch. " She took another taste of strawberry ice cream, which by some chance seemed to taste really good.

"Okay. Let me try some then." You pointed your eyes at Kelly's ice cream, but also at her lips. She immediately left her hand next to your mouth, waiting for you to satisfy your will.

" Not like that! " You stated, leaving Kelly confused.

sometimes don't forget that, deep down, the blondie is a bit of a slow person.

"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow. You pushed Chloe's hand, which was holding the ice cream, to the side. With free digits, you pulled her face close to yours, holding her cheek.

You glued your lips together with hers.

With the contact, the first thing you felt was the strawberry flavor passing into your mouth, creating a mix of flavors when you find the mint refreshment. You fit the kiss so well that Chloe was carried away by your domain, the lip meat had so many flavors that it was already impossible to describe. You could feel Kelly's bunny teeth nibble on your bottom lip, allowing you to let out a moan between your lips.

Kissing Chloe Kelly was always a new experience, your girlfriend always takes you to new imaginations, as if every time their lips touched, they were a portal to another dimension. And this time, the dimension was unique.

The only things you could feel were the mint and strawberry combo melting on your lips, Kelly's long fingers cupping your chin from the side and the unique sound of the waves crashing against each other. Thus, you were able to experience the strawberry flavor that you craved so much.

All of this was like having moths fluttering in your stomach. Kissing Chloe Kelly is therapy, is synonymous to ravaging bad feelings; and that's what happened.

The kiss was lasting, to the point that when they broke apart, your breathing was as heavy as that of an athlete who ran a hundred meters only once, unlike Chloe, who seemed to be used to it. To be honest, the breath wasn't the only reason to break the kiss; but the ice cream melting between your fingers.

"Oh, shit." You mumbled, running your tongue over your fingers after the mess the ice cream made on your hand. After cleaning up, your eyes landed on Kelly's face as she finished eating her ice cream.

What the fuck Chloe.

That really surprised you. You guys just had a great kiss and all she cared about was the ice cream? She hasn't even said anything yet.

Chloe pulled the napkin that was left over from her own portion and took it to the corners of your lips, wiping them; minty mints. You left, freely, as you stared at her, waiting for some response.

"Did you like it?" Kelly asked after a silence of minutes, still wiping your lips.

" Of what, exactly?" It was an extremely empty question, because after all, you loved everything.

" The strawberry, you asked to try it. " Ah, sure, the genuine Chloe Kelly way. You nodded in agreement as you felt the napkin being finished. " Great, next time we try different flavors. " The british woman crumpled her napkin, and soon got up.

It was all happening so fast that you didn't even understand what Kelly wanted to do. Suddenly, she held her hand out in front of you.

" What...?" You looked up, while with a confused expression, you still managed to admire Chloe's beautiful face.

Internally, Kelly was so looking forward to the kiss that she didn't know exactly what her next actions would be; like a child lost inside a toy store.

The only difference between the two of you was that Chloe Kelly was very good at faking those emotions.

" Let's go. You have to learn to play beach tennis today. " She murmured, opening a sweet smile. "If you beat me, I'll let you taste other flavors in my mouth."

Fuck.

Your heart raced so fast, the unwillingness to play with Chloe was suddenly gone. Her sentence doesn't match the woman Kelly was hours ago, as if now, she was free to say anything. You rested your fingers on your girlfriend's hand to get up.

Now you had reason to compete with Chloe Kelly.

#chloe kelly imagine #chloe kelly x reader #chloe kelly #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso soccer

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hypostatic-oath · 7 months

Text

OVERSEER BRAINROT

(This is like. Me rambling. This is poorly explained and my grasp on the canon lore is iffy but this is just how I imagine/will write the Overseer - aka the player - in SAGAU. This perspective will likely change as I understand more of the lore, but for now, here's some crumbs.)

Overseer whose role is, more than simply observing, to keep the canon going.

Experiencing the story, and that includes collecting characters and learning of their lore, exploring the world, building our teapot, etc is our reward for playing our role - and our role is to push the story forward. It doesn't progress without us. We're not Teyvat's creator, but we are the one making each of our worlds move (we're the mover we're the shaker we're the headline maker). If we did not take action, the twins never would've been separated - they would've stayed forever in that choosing screen, held permanently in that moment. If we had not chosen to walk forward and touch the statue, the Traveler would never have gotten the Anemo elemental powers. Would've never helped Dvalin. Signora would've never taken Venti's gnosis. Rex Lapis would never have "died". Every single other major event wouldn't happen.

The player is the being that makes the Canon Events happen - not directly, but through making sure that the story progresses. (Miguel O'Hara theme plays in the background.) And this can happen at whichever speed we decide.

Now, while the fact that we are the ones making the story go by could be used to argue that the Overseer would be the one to make the passage of time, that is not quite true. The days in Teyvat do not depend on the story progression. Months can pass before those two Fatui in Mondstadt (I love them) have any new gossip to share about current events, or they can pass through five new topics in a span of days, depending on how fast the player runs through the quests. Time is not the deciding factor in these characters' fates. It doesn't matter how long it's been since Signora died - Viktor (the Fatui guy at the Cathedral) will not be stationed at his new post unless the player finishes his comission. Teppei's condition won't worsen with time, either. If we don't continue the quest, we can stand next to him for weeks in game before he passes. Thus, I propose that the Overseer is more of a god of Fate (not to mention, the god of time position is taken). To add to this, the things we use to pull for characters are called Fates. Intertwined Fates, Acquaint Fates, both circle back to the same idea. Hangouts can be seen as a sort of exploration of this power - with the ability to choose one of five or six fates for that character (if only Character Quests had that too). It is, however, one of the few times we have control over which version of the story is told. Otherwise, we are mostly the energy that moves it along.

It's not just that it's a canon event and we cannot interfere - it's that it is literally our purpose to make sure it happens, even if we don't like it. We're here to witness and progress the story - and bad things can happen in stories, regardless of what the characters in it want. So right now I am having some Villain Overseer brainrot, not because they want to be evil on purpose, but because some character decides to pull a Miles Morales and say "I'mma do my own thing" and mess up the story's flow. For someone trying to change the course of the story, the force that pushes events forward is obviously Not Good. I can see Fontaine characters seeing the Traveler's arrival as an ill omen, a sign that the prophecy will come true. They're divided, because on one hand, the Traveler has a good reputation, someone helpful, kind, a hero. But the Overseer's attention signifies that events will inevitably unfold. So Lyney invites them to be part of a show. Furina threatens to arrest the Traveler. Navia asks them out for tea. As long as they can keep the Overseer's attention on other matters, the event they dread won't happen. (I won't talk much abt Neuvillette rn becayse spoilers)

Enter eventual Arlechinno boss fight (it hasn't happened yet, but I do hope we get one) - she's the one who tries to fight the Traveler head on, to personally put a stop to it once and for all. Perhaps the Overseer has no ill will, but that doesn't matter. Not when their presence means that the clock is ticking faster and faster every day.

Now for a more lighthearted thought, Isekai'd Overseer who doesn't really have a concept of urgency. No important event will occur without them present, so they have no qualms in arriving on the day after the scheduled date, confident that as long as it is between 18:00 - 23:00 the reservation will still be placed and people will be at their seats as if it was always meant to be that way.

So the Overseer walks into a bar, with a face too fresh for someone who hasn't slept in what the people of Teyvat percieve to have been months, just coming in from the Spiral Abyss, and asks the bartender where their friends are.

"I don't know? Master Kaeya usually shows up at this hour, but the rest of your usual group is probably tending to their affairs."

"Odd. They were supposed to be here by now. We had a big dinner planned." The person in front of him, who Charles is more and more sure definitely looks somewhat off in a way he can't quite pinpoint, seems confused. "There was a reservation and everything. In Kaeya's name, I believe."

"Well, I'm sorry, but the last reservation Master Kaeya placed here was a month ago."

"Again, weird. He said he was going to place one. Oh, well. When the others get here, just let them know I'll be on one of the big tables upstairs, alright? And you can put everything on my tab."

#i would very much like to know whether the traveler/paimon/player has ties to celestia #but judging by the fact that neuvillette is chill with us I'd say that if we do then the dragon sovereigns dont know #Speaking of the sovereigns I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THEM #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #genshin impact sagau #cube.rambles #this is all over the place but I wanted to get my overseer brainrot going

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anika-ann · 4 months

Text

Back and Forth - part 3.2

Part 3 - Bounce Back - 2/2

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 14000

Chapter summary: In which you have to survive the charity auction and it's not easy... for several reasons.

Series masterlist

Warnings: overthinking, self-doubt and issues with self-image, A+ parenting and its consequences, mentions of (in)human experimentation, alcohol (briefly as a coping mechanism), SPOILER armed assault, language and charming Steve, because he is most definitely a warning

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: Second 'half' of the 3rd chapter. As you might have noticed, this is a long one. But with hints of fluff. So…yay? 💕 If you wish/need to split the reading, I recommend to end a reading session at the second in-text divider 😊

Daisy Johnson, despite being the legendary Quake, did in fact have a moment – which was enough of a shock to stop your headache from getting worse, even if your hands seemed to get a little clammy as your phone lit up with her response.

You would have done just fine without anyone’s input, you considered yourself competent enough to choose an evening gown, thank you very much. But after the day you had had so far – you could hardly believe it wasn’t even noon yet – there was a small traitorous voice of hope in the back of your head. Despite the heavy feeling in your stomach weighing you down, a dull reminder of being alone in this world, it urged you to reach out to the one group of people that once made you believe that you could share more with someone than workload or more than lust that turned into ashes and smoke once the fire had been lit up too strong. Daisy had been in the centre of it – she and maybe Coulson.

It was a dangerous game you played, indulging in the one thing you knew would come back to slap you in the face; entertaining the idea that there was someone who genuinely cared for you regardless of your abilities was setting you up for disappointment. But there was something about Daisy, so honest and sincere, that had wormed its way through the walls you had sworn to keep up for support, several inches thick and vibranium-strong. And that didn’t change, even as you had been given, not for the first time, the evidence of how volatile a faith in friendship can turn just short of two hours ago.

Knowing that Daisy didn’t turn her back to people, not even to her father after all he had done wrong, knowing she chose to see the good in people and to put her heart into nurturing it in them despite the risk of getting hurt in more ways than one, left you defenceless against her powers that had nothing to do with her genetic code. She was, even if distantly, the closest thing to a sister to you, older, due to her experience with Inhuman powers and in Coulson’s team, and younger, due to her pure heart and excitement about new things; once she had managed her powers which she had got about a half a year before you did, she became your guide and confidant; though you hadn’t dared to taint her with the knowledge of your pain.

While you had started search for the dress without her, she texted you barely a half an hour in; fresh out of a meeting, apologizing she’d only have twenty minutes before they’d be in the drop-zone for their current mission. Twenty minutes. And yet, she had made the time for you. Somewhere, thousands of feet in the air, in between preparing her mission gear, she had decided to sneak in a few minutes for you.

The knowledge alone eased the pressure in your stomach and gave way to a wholly different feeling, equally dizzying. She cared. Yes, you could argue that since she had been tasked to lead the division of Inhuman agents of SHIELD, it was her duty to respond – and at times, you reminded yourself of that, that you really weren’t special – but the fact was that she was. And she truly did care. You hadn’t been wrong to call her a friend yesterday; and Daisy-the-teenager couldn’t have had picked a better role-model in life. For most part anyway.

It didn’t matter in the slightest that Daisy Johnson had barely squeezed you into her schedule; it still carried meaning. And it would be enough, because she could be very efficient, sorting through the dresses you had considered so far as easily as if she had been slicing through the security system of the Pentagon – for a person with her hacking experience anyway.

A set of easy questions you yourself had been asking was her effective tactics.

Mission or fun? she had asked first, no doubt already knowing the answer as she went through the early picks. There was a reason why no dress had bare back, while all of them had necklines designed high enough to hide at least a strapless bra.

Me: They call it a mission to have fun, but I’ll be damned if I go without being ready other kind of mission.

DJ: Fair

DJ: Charming or sexy?

Your lips twitched in a small smile, your mind conjuring the image of Daisy’s face when she was typing the question. She was one of very few people – probably the only one – who could make you feel the teenage-like excitement about challenging authority. There was always a reason to the madness of doing so, but there was something about her attitude that always whispered of poking the bear for the sake of fun only.

Charming, you replied, almost regretfully. As much fun as it would be to see brains of some of those pretentious jerks you were about to meet short-circuit just because they were seeing an extra silver of flesh on a young woman – a thing that would make for as much of an icky feeling as hilarity – your mission was to represent, not cause havoc or seduce.

Blah. Colour-coordinating with anyone? she asked then and you chuckled at her poorly hidden attempt to fish for gossip – and at the idea of actually trying to do what she was suggesting. No. You were not going to go and ask Rogers what colour he was about to wear. Less so since chances were high that he was about opt for a traditional black tuxedo suit with a white shirt.

Me: Nope.

DJ: Come on! At least tell me who you’re going with?!!

DJ: You know this is a much of a secure channel as it gets

DJ: And you said it wasn’t really a mission, so it can’t be classified

DJ: …and I can’t find it within the system.

I’ll tell you if we survive it, you replied simply, even as laughter already bubbled in your chest, cheeks beginning to hurt from disuse and the sudden exercise as to stop you from grinning.

You should have known that she’d hack the system and go straight for the mission database unless you told her the details. Tony, bless him, threw a tantrum whenever she did that – which wasn’t too often, but it had happened before. On days when you allowed yourself to ponder, you wondered why he never told anyone – as far as you knew, that was, because no one came down on you, raining holy fire of wrath, despite it being obvious you were the cause of Daisy’s hacks – and why he tolerated it. Some days, you thought he was amused by it and felt bad for you, seeing you missed your former team, granting you connection with Daisy even if the way she went about it drove him absolutely nuts. Other days, you were sure he simply enjoyed a challenge and this was as good one of those as any – and he’d be caught dead before he’d admit in front of anyone that someone was able to crack into his system. Most days, you were content not to look given horse in the mouth.

Like clockwork, FRIDAY’s mechanical voice interrupted your thoughts:

“Agent Spectre, Mr. Stark would like to know if, I quote, you know anything about some punk kid sneaking into the mission logs again, maybe Little Miss Richter Scale, end of quote,” she stated, causing a snort of laughter actually escape you at Tony’s new and dead-on nickname. You’d have to tell Daisy that later – she’d have a good laugh at that

Me: You’re getting better and better.

Me: He’s onto you now though.

DJ: He should, he’s slacking, took him forever to notice

Sometimes, you wondered what would happen if Tony Stark and Daisy Johnson found themselves in one room and she’d tell him that to his face; but that was a thought to entertain another day.

“Thanks, FRIDAY. Tell Mr. Stark to relax. We’re safe, it is just Daisy.”

“Very well. Apologies for interrupting your free time, Agent Spectre. However, I was also tasked to inform you that Sergeant Wilson prepared enough lunch for an army and extended the invitation to join him to everyone on the team. Even to those who are currently on a mission out of state, which I find odd and, frankly, despicable.”

Even though the corner of your lips twitched at FRIDAY’s comment, your heart skipped a startled beat, a fist of cold feeling squeezing your stomach. The invitation was a nice gesture, even if not meant for you. You could read between the lines: the family the Avengers team had built themselves into, even if the second strangest you had ever seen, did not involve you. You were barely a part of the team, a temporary loan, so to speak, even as you had signed a contract. Extending the invitation to the team meant extending it to friends, to that very family. As kind and welcoming as Sam seemed, you certainly did not belong to that category.

The vibration of your phone startled you; the message as amusing as bittersweet.

DJ: Fine, keep your secrets, Ms Avenger

Right. Ms. Avenger. Case on point. You might be one, technically, on paper, but in spirit… hardly. At best, you were determined to try and prove that the way you controlled your abilities could be at least Avengers-adjacent. The harsh truth however, was that if anyone from your old team would have had it in them to become a true Avenger, it was Daisy herself. Alas, she was too busy running and flying the world with another team, protecting, teaching, and recruiting Inhumans... and saving the world in the process.

DJ: Crap gotta run

DJ: Number four is the one I think

Whoever you’re going with is gonna lose their shit when they see you, she added, once again making you snort, this time without humour.

Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. If chances of becoming a friend to an Avenger were astronomical, chances that Steve Rogers would be impressed by you dressing up to the nines were outside of all the realms known to Thor himself. But it was a nice sentiment, you supposed; the flicker of affection towards the optimist in Daisy was a testimony to that.

Me: Thank you for the help. Stay safe out there.

DJ: You too

DJ: But from what I saw about yesterday, you got it

DJ: …Ms Avenger

Shaking your head, this time unable to stop the smile taking over your lips, you set the phone down and ordered the dress to be delivered express, and moved onto shoes and a handbag; you ignored the growling of your hungry stomach and distantly couldn’t but wonder if maybe there’d be some leftovers of Sam’s pasta to have for lunch later.

Tony was not exaggerating when he was talking about the charity auction being a mission. A mission required preparation; having documents land in your inbox along with an alert of high-priority intel relevant to your mission lightning up your StarkWatch yesterday evening, you had never been more grateful for being obliged to read up on something.

As you were putting the last touches to your make-up in the quinjet bathroom, you sent another mental thank you to Tony, because the extensive files on all expected guests, besides having potential to be useful to you during the event, gave you the perfect excuse as to why leave last preparations to the flight.

Naturally, the intel itself was a message with a bitter aftertaste, because it highlighted your role and tasks. Represent. Make small-talk. Show interest. Compliment a healthy amount; meaning bootlick a bit, if necessary. You knew the dance and it had always made your head spin in the worst way. To show enough admiration and knowledge about the world’s finest to look professional and a bit of a fan, but not as a stalker, even as there were people among the attendees tonight who would have probably appreciated a stalker-level interest and considered it a compliment.

But despite the slight nausea hitting you when leafing through the files, you had appreciated the out Tony had given you, whether it was intentional or not; because with an excuse of mountains of intel to try to learn by heart, you didn’t have to sit opposite to Steve in the quinjet in awkward silence. Or worse, trying to make small talk with him, just as awkward. Or, in the worst-case scenario – which would be in the direct conflict with one of the mission’s laughable objectives, specifically trying not to kill each other – fight with him.

And you probably would have done exactly that because there was no way Captain America himself had been wrestled into this the same way you had. They might have had to twist his arm to make him go with you, but not to go. He had been given a choice and chose to attend, despite the concerns you had voiced. And you probably hadn’t been the only one, which meant Steve had to be hyperaware of the potential security issue and he deliberately ignored it. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He was Mr. Captain America and nothing could ever happen to him; be it because he thought there was no danger and you were allegedly making it bigger deal than necessary or – which drove you all high up the wall and made you want to punch him into his damn perfect teeth or at least punch his stupidly firm pec – the threat was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Goddamn him.

You crumbled the fabric of your dress between your fingers in a firm grip as you breathed through the rush of pure indignation with him being a brave stubborn dismissive dumbass and breathed in slowly; you held your breath for a few seconds, and only then released it along with the grip on your dress. You blinked at yourself in the mirror and repeated the action, arranging your face into a neutral expression at least.

Tony might have as well come up with the idea to send the intel solely to prevent you from attempting to strangle Steven Grant Rogers before you even landed, so it would be polite to honour his efforts.

When you finally exited the bathroom and entered the main space, you found Steve in one of the seats with a tablet in his hand, the screen dimly illuminating his face. He looked up as you approached, rising to his feet almost as if on instinct, his lips slightly parted for a brief moment. His gaze glided over the dress from where it brushed your ankles, over the line of the skirt, the slit reaching mid-thigh opening and closing as you walked, revealing a silver of your leg tastefully and covering you again, then over the waist, V-shaped neckline ending mid-sternum, short sleeves with delicate frills. For a moment, the intensity of his gaze surprised you; but then you realized that he was committing the dress to memory to find you easily in the crowd in case any Avengers-related business came up.

Then, an obtrusively gentle thought nudged at your mind; he was an amateur artist. You had got a glimpse of him several times, a sketchbook and a pencil in his fingers, look distant or extremely focused on the paper in front of him. He could appreciate beauty – and the dress you chose was without doubt an embodiment of it. The glimmer of it was subtle and the sparkles sparce; in the rich dark blue blending into a purple just as dark, it resembled the sky just after dusk, with the first stars coming out. Whether he had a sense for fashion or not wouldn’t matter – the dress was, at least in your eyes, gorgeous. Not flashy, not too shiny to attract too much attention, but with an idea making up for the otherwise simple design.

When Steve met your eyes, the light of the quinjet made it appear as if there was a tinge of pink in his cheeks. And there actually might be, since his eyes lingered on the dress for a moment too long; which wouldn’t be a crime if you weren’t already wearing them, making it seem like he was staring.

“You look beautiful,” he said, the soft tone making it sound almost as if it escaped him unwittingly.

It was the most ordinary of compliments and yet, it surprised you that he had even paid it. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, as he was a product of his time – a time in which if men didn’t compliment a woman’s appearance, they were probably called louts. And yet. Even with that knowledge, something akin to warmth fluttered in your chest, a brief smile passing over your lips, the silent ‘thank you’ the least courtesy you could give in return.

If he had tried to commit your dress to memory, you’d allow yourself the same luxury. A quality black tuxedo with a faint navy-blue glint, pristine white shirt, a black bow-tie. His outfit would be but a drop in the sea, nothing that would stand out among those of other men; but you had the advantage of him being easily found in the crowd thanks to his physique alone. The broadness and strength he radiated could carry the weight of the world – and it felt like it did – narrowing beautifully into the trim waist in a ratio not even a loose jacket could hope to hide, let alone such well-fitting one which seemed to accentuate it a little more than was strictly necessary. With him towering over about ninety-five percent of people and having shoulders wider than about ninety-nine percent of the usual present company, he was truly hard to miss.

Unfortunately, it also made him an easy target who was truly hard to miss indeed.

And now you were staring and he was no doubt aware – it was impossible not to, less so with how much attention he paid to things. So you stood there in silence, awkward one, precisely the one you had wanted to avoid and yet managed to reach it in thirty seconds flat – but at least neither of you were yelling. Yet.

As glad as you were to see that Steve Rogers had clearly decided to leave whatever disagreements you had ever had back at the Tower for the sake of this mission, trying his best to be the exact opposite of antagonistic, you were not going to tell him he looked extremely good to make things even more awkward. You wouldn’t even think it, as right as the assessment was. It would be inappropriate, even as he had complimented you first. You needed to be professional. There was a task at hand.

Right. The mission.

Steve was still watching you, something akin to curiosity in his gaze.

You cleared your throat, nodding towards the tablet in his hand.

“You were going through the files on the guests?”

Steve blinked, seemingly snapped from his thoughts.

“Yes. Have you?” he asked as he laid the tablet on the seat, straightening to his full height again; it was ridiculous how tall he seemed in the low-ceiling cabin of this type of quinjets. There was a faint smile on his lips, no tension in his jaw as he watched you; he already knew the answer and he wasn’t trying to provoke you.

Small talk it was.

“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. You would swear a little twinkle of humour appeared in his eye – but it was probably just the lights reflecting in his cerulean blues. “Yesterday and today. Should be more than enough to represent properly.”

Alright, it must have been humour, because the corner of his lips twitched now at the lightest trace of defiance in your voice. Then he smiled fully, the spark burning brighter, your stomach somersaulting a bit.

Who were you kidding you had no idea; he looked more than just extremely good and handsome. In a different kind of suit than you were used to, bright eyes with their blue accentuated by the colour of his tuxedo, with uncharacteristically relaxed features and even a smile aimed at you, the beauty of him seemed so surreal you might have as well entered another dimension. Which, given your experience with Coulson’s team, was not unplausible. And yet, your heart fluttering had nothing to with fear as he went to sidestep you.

What was wrong with you today?

“Well… good. I’m sure you’ll have the two remaining objectives handled as well,” he said kindly.

You blinked, neurons firing in all directions, heart leaping to your throat. Surely, he didn’t just—the two remaining objectives. That wasn’t--- that didn’t mean anything. He probably didn’t receive the same documents, his mission package different from yours as he was one of the original Avengers, the strategist.

And yet, a worm of curiosity had already chewed its way through to your brain, an itch you needed to scratch otherwise you’d go crazy. Certainly, he couldn’t have implied-

He stepped out towards the bathroom, only to be stopped in his tracks by your impulsive words.

“Can I borrow your tablet for one more moment?” you blurted out, clearly taking him by surprise; but not unpleasantly. “I just… I just want to check on some of the guests again.”

“Sure.”

With the same faint smile adorning his absurdly handsome face, he took a few steps back to reach for the tablet, unlocking it for you and opening the file with individual documents for you to browse before taking his leave.

You weren’t sure why you needed to check – if you were a sucker for pain, needing to know your assumption he had only received three objectives was correct – but you opened the mission overview anyway.

A lump grew in your throat as you skimmed through the document, your stomach suddenly unbearably warm.

He didn’t mean it. He forgot there were four not three objectives, a sharp voice in your head argued, instantly opposed by another, even if less insistent, reminding you that Captain Rogers was believed to have eidetic memory and you had seen his impressive memory indeed in action before.

It didn’t matter. You were making a big deal out of nothing; and ocne you came back from this excuse of a mission, you needed to have your heart checked, because the irregularities in rhythm and the palpitations upon simply reading had to signal an underlying health issue.

But it was right there, in his device, in one of the documents he had just been reading through. The overview.

Location.

Time.

Two names.

Four objectives.

Four objectives which were no doubt written down by Tony, given the choice of words and their existence to begin with, because no one else would have treated an official document this way.

Make Avengers look good; Look good; Have fun (includes using Stark/Avengers card in the auction); Try not to kill each other.

You felt your cheeks heat up even though there was not a single reason to feel that way. You were a grown woman. You had been complimented countless times before, in much more flattering ways, though less playful ones. Steve was just being… polite. And a little teasing, trying to put you at ease, probably thinking you couldn’t handle yourself, having been informed about your… reluctance to attend the auction. His niceness was in overdrive since he had been literally given orders not to treat you as if he wanted to kill you. He didn’t mean it and even if he did, you had no business reacting this way.

But still. It seemed that Steve Rogers decided that for the sake of the mission, he would more than just leave your differences of opinions behind for the night; he decided to truly work hard on the one single objective that did not come easily to him. There was no other reason for that, but despite your better judgement, it brought a ghost of a smile to your face, one that felt a little stupid.

As you heard him open the door, you were quick to close the document and tap on a random one concerning the guests, just in case Steve would want to check. You pretended that you were too immersed in reading to address him as he walked to you, but there was no need.

The gentle swing of the quinjet slowing down made you forget about whatever he had been trying to imply alarmingly fast.

You were almost there; in the lion’s den. It was time to pull yourself together, be the picture perfect this mission required even if you were not. Just because your idea of a useful mission was different, you wouldn’t treat this one with any less focus or professionalism; even if you’d rather find yourself tied-up and gagged an abandoned warehouse in a middle of nowhere, with no back-up in sight, than kept a fake smile plastered to your face for hours.

Avenger or not, your task was to represent. And so you would, conveniently with the man who represented the goals and values of the team better than anyone else ever could. You’d do your best to support him in that, and you’d do so while fulfilling all the objectives of the mission indeed, even if you doubted that you’d be any better than an accessory the size of Steve’s cufflink. You doubted that Steve Rogers would need the slightest support in charming rich people and the staff alike.

Just for that, you mentally added a fifth objective, an objective anyone drawing up the document should have added themselves. For Steve, it would be not to be a dumbass and not to get himself hurt, hit by anti-serum, kidnapped or killed. For you, not to let any of these things happen to him.

It wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place if it was anyone else with you, but since Steve goddamn Rogers had decided to--- no. Not today. He truly was trying to be bearable. You’d meet him halfway; but you’d be damned if you didn’t keep your eyes open.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” you murmured as the quinjet touched down on one of the rooftops on a nearby hotel, courtesy of Tony’s negotiating skills – his irresistible charm, as he would say – earning you Steve’s startled look. “You clean up well too.”

His shoulders sagged, eyebrow arching subtly, but his surprise melted into a slight smile again. “Thank you. Shall we?”

Like the gentleman he had been raised to be, he offered you an elbow as the ramp of the quinjet opened for you to step out. There was no need – you had walked on far worse surfaces than this in heels before, you had been forced to run and kick in them too – and you had to physically swallow the remark that would inform Steve about that. But you’d be an idiot to not see that he didn’t offer you an arm to be condescending; he did so to be nice. You could work with nice.

“Thanks.”

And with that, you stepped out, counting steps until you’d walk into the lion’s den indeed.

To say that functions, balls and auctions were not your scene would be a serious understatement. Not in the sense of you being unable to tackle them, no – you had plenty of experience – but in the sense of you absolutely despising them. Specifically, you couldn’t stand what people pretended to be when in that environment; and that included you.

It hadn’t always been like that; visiting events like this started off pleasant. People in luxury robes with wide smiles and subtle laughs echoing in glimmering halls were a thrilling environment before. Before you could fully understand what was happening, before you could read the room. It was only much later when you’d identify these events as necessary evil when working for SHIELD and the time between the two points was a long journey.

Your father would have sneaked into these, either in his own ways or through your mother’s alleged renown status; and you, naturally, went with them. She’d often leave you and your father to your own devices, charming guests into adoring her, speaking of her dedication to both her work and her family, particularly to her daughter, her tone speaking louder than her words in the case of the latter; contempt.

Meanwhile, your father was the complete opposite. He had you joined at his hip, a crutch for when his own tactics of pretending to be someone truly indispensable to SHIELD failed. If people roaming higher circles of society didn’t recognize him as the god’s gift to humanity he hoped to come across as, you’d come in; a charming young lady ready to take the world by storm, his beloved daughter, his pride and joy. Errors made that day, that week or past months didn’t matter – they didn’t exist at the moment, your performance always painted as perfect for the sake of the bragging.

It was a divine experience to receive so much praise, him sounding so earnest in front of all those people; it got sicker and more twisted the older you got, seeing the mask slipping on and off as it suited him, knowing that in the discomfort of home, you were none of what he described you as that to him. And yet. To be finally loved and seen as exceptional by your own father, the one person who had always believed in you and told you so; who wouldn’t want that? Just a taste; like melting hot chocolate on your tongue, thoroughly warming your very being, the softest of blankets that turned scratchy the moment you left the room, snatched away to leave you out in the cold reality of being born a hope and growing up a failure. But those moments, those moments you craved as much as you hated them. Because you knew they would never last.

It was one of the many contradictions of your childhood and adolescence, one of many topics of your therapy sessions that seemed to have no end. It reminded you of what Lincoln always said – that every Inhuman had a purpose and that every Inhuman’s power reflected, to a point, who they were. The way you felt you were often being pulled in two directions, loved and despised, dotted on and ignored, obedient and rebellious, to be exactly who your father had always intended for you to be and find your own path – or pretend you could, for a bit at least, to give him a glimpse of a real disappointment; all goals in direct opposition to each other. You were surprised your ability wasn’t the same as Alisha’s who could literally split herself into several images of herself. But you were hardly an overachiever, were you? You had learned long time ago that perfection was out of your reach, no matter how much you’d cry and bleed and clawed your way through to it, only to see the top of the mountain move when your fingers had almost touched it at last. And on top of that mountain; people like Steve Rogers. The man who could shove it into anyone’s face that it wasn’t that the summit was too high; it was just that they were too small of a person. That you weren’t enough.

It wasn’t fair to despise him for it. But it wasn’t fair that some of these people could insult you to your face and imply you were a lesser Avenger – while representing them nevertheless – and you had no chance to truly fight back without somewhat proving them right.

About a hundred and then some boring conversations later, encounters in which you felt your skin crawl because you hated rubbing elbows, facing fake smiles and carefully crafted politeness with veiled insults weaved between the words of those who could afford it, you were ready to take a break and you were afraid it was beginning to show too.

Captain Steve Rogers, of course, did not seem tired of pleasantries in the slightest; the golden boy still roamed among the crowds, more than willing to engage in any conversation, shaking hands and rubbing elbows indeed as if he had been born to do exactly that. Crowds loved him and that was a fact, whether what Tony had insinuated was correct or not and Steve couldn’t stand this kind environment either indeed.

You had to give it to Steve, however – and truly, you should have expected it, because this was Steve Rogers, originally a little man who could not stand people looking down at others, less so diminish someone’s worth, and he was the protector, the ultimate good guy, the perfection personified – the encounters you had handled side by side with him did not see you neglected. Quite the opposite. If someone didn’t recognize you, which applied to the majority, he was happy to introduce you, or, as it had been in most cases, he had you introduce yourself and only then he highlighted your importance to the team if anyone seemed less that impressed.

Contrary to what you would believe, his words and demeanour, however, pushed the icky sensation of the scene away rather than intensified it. Unlike your father, Steve didn’t have you trail after him. He didn’t belittle you to lift himself up. He didn’t boast about his brilliant decision to reassign you to the team since you were so useful When he spoke of you as the new addition to the team, he didn’t highlight your most recent accomplishment either, not with a condescending or patronizing tone or words that would make it sound as if he as saying oh she saved a few people just two days ago, including Natasha Romanoff, someone give her a candy.

Steve didn’t speak of you as if you were hisachievement, didn’t speak of letting you join the team, of the cooperation being his or their choice.

“We are honoured to have her join the team,” he’d say instead.

“With every mission she takes on, she proves how fortunate we are that she is one of us.”

“Her contributions to our common goal are invaluable.”

“She is an essential part of our team and we are thankful she continues to make this world a safer place with the rest of us.”

On one hand, it was almost sweet; on the other, it was irritating. You didn’t need him to earn you their respect and it should make you livid he was trying to do that, to play the hero who’d rush to your rescue. To a point, it did, because you could fight your own battles; but this battlefield tended to make you slip into a mindset you hated – made you slip into a skin you hated wearing. Still, Steve’s tendency to make it his personal mission that you were not overshadowed by him – a futile effort truly – should make your blood boil, because there he was, the world’s mightiest saviour in action again.

But the way his body language changed when someone eyed you as if you were an unwanted addition to the conversation seemed to whisper of other things than self-proclaimed white knight needing to sweep in; it expressed itself as a personal insult to him that your supposed brilliance was not acknowledged. It seemed almost as if he was gesturing to you wildly with his large palms, his voice as if demanding from the people he spoke to: do you really not see how amazing she is? Are you an idiot? Naturally, he was doing so in much distinguished manner, but that was how it felt.

You were certain someone must have got to you before Tony did back in the park, landing a hit to your head or two, causing a microtrauma that only now manifested in your entirely skewed perception and hallucinations. They must have, there was no other plausible explanation. Or maybe you had actually died; laying your life for Natasha’s would have certainly been a worthy cause. Or perhaps it wasn’t so dramatic and you had simply slipped into a coma and this was some weird manifestation of your brain recovering.

And yet, you had a feeling that if you pinched yourself, you would still feel as grounded in this strange reality as you did now, the intense surge of affection for the man still overwhelming, the satisfaction of seeing the swellheads meek and slightly embarrassed at Steve’s tone upon them dismissing you curling hot in your core. You needed to stop revel in it so much.

But be as it might, despite trying to carefully shield yourself from the effect of Steve’s very public words of appreciation due to knowing it wouldn’t last, you felt yourself grow taller than you ever had been in an event like this. You didn’t feel as obliged to smile politely just for the sake of pleasing others, even as you did smile. Despite the presence of Captain America, larger than life, you felt confident and powerful, even if this kind of feeling normally only came when you were on a mission with the target already in your pocket.

And yet, this surge of courage – and all the wondering about what an alternate reality you had entered – didn’t make the game of social chess less exhausting or brought it closer to your ideas of fun. After almost another hour of wandering on your own, tending to every conversation necessary and even those less necessary, you did find yourself in a need of a break and you liked to think you deserved one.

Naturally, fate – if there was such thing – did not grant you such courtesy.

When you finally did find yourself at the bar, it was one godawful encounter later – a single polite conversation that had sucked all life out of you, all of the little glow you felt you had gathered swept away with a single snap of fingers. It was unfair. It was unfair that your mother still had such hold on you after a lifetime of you being nothing but a bug on her windshield as she tried to drive into the sunset of her own glory, even months and months after her final abandonment.

The matter was only worse since it wasn’t even her. Just a distant colleague – her superior, no less. A few minutes, every second dragging since the moment Doctor Franklin had mentioned your mother, and you were ready to hit the bar for something far stronger than champagne.

“Ah, I knew I saw a resemblance. You must be so proud to wear your mother’s features and name. A strong woman, a survivor, truly dedicated to science, exploring the wonders of the nature of Inhuman transformation. Examining her own genetic code to be able to share fascinating facts of the uniqueness of her case. Even the draft of her study was most intriguing… pardon me, what was it that your abilities are after you, unlike her, simply acquired powers like everyone else?”

It shouldn’t have affected you; but it did. With what felt like chunks of metal in your stomach, the tickle of nausea in the back of your throat, you were almost proud you managed to hold somewhat of a smile, actually uncertain if the woman was clueless in the matter of politeness and tact or whether she was making a calculated insult.

“I’m afraid the exact nature of my abilities is classified, ma’am,” you replied. The words, even if they should feel full of vindication, tasted bitter on your tongue.

Trust your mother to finally find her exceptionality and built the pinnacle of her career on a flaw in her genetic code. Of fucking course. Making herself the centre of attention while being the primary source of that attention at the same time; what a brilliant move. Someone should give her a damn Nobel. You really were doing something wrong in your life.

So truly, you felt like were entitled to a breather as you walked away with a polite nod, trying not to throw up in your mouth as the world got slightly blurry at the edges for a moment, your heart pounding, knees feeling a little weak. You felt the sticky remnants of Doctor Franklin’s words linger on your skin, resisting the urge to rub it off.

You deserved a shot of something stronger. You weren’t sure anything weaker than absinth would do the trick and help you snap from the strange haze your body slipped into; but facing the man behind the improvised bar, you couldn’t make yourself ask for that however.

Well-aware that you needed to keep at least some face since the mission of the evening was to represent, you opted for vodka, small shot only. And despite the weary conversations, you didn’t forget: in addition to representing, you wanted to be ready to fight whoever could possibly go after Rogers. As much as you’d like to get wasted to feel actual nausea instead, something tangible and real like the burn of the strongest alcohol known to mankind, you couldn’t. Vodka it was.

You turned the shot bottoms-up, focusing fully on the hot trickle down your throat, the fire dampening all your other senses; and for a few second, it was bliss.

Until your nostrils were hit by an unfairly familiar cologne and aftershave, a deep timbre soaking into your bones whenever spoken despite how much you tried not to let it do exactly that.

“Having fun as we were ordered?”

You froze, shame, indignation and the alcohol lightning you up like a wildfire.

Great, Mr. Morality is here, you thought darkly, setting the glass down, turning to Steve with poorly masked annoyance. Annoyance which was quickly wiped out, the flames licking at your gut put out.

You expected his face to be full of judgement, anger and disappointment; but much like his voice had been, you realized, it was free of any bite or sting, simply showing light amusement and compassion, a slightly worried crinkle between his brows.

His voice had been quiet, purposely so, as not to attract lookers-on. It was a little naïve – to think he could walk in anywhere without at least ten pairs of eyes following him – but it was nice of him that he was trying not to embarrass you by publicly calling you an alcoholic.

But the gentle mix of emotion adorning his expression only made your stomach twist. It was a great paradox really; it would be so much easier to deal with tonight if he was being insufferable and judged you. But that bastard, the irritatingly handsome bastard, was being simply amazing. A much greater person you could ever be. And he didn’t mean to, probably – but he was just screaming exactly that to your face with every little action he had opted for tonight.

Not his fault, not his fault, you tried to remind yourself as he continued to watch you, curiosity sneaking into his gaze now.

Make Avengers look good.

Look good.

Have fun.

Do not kill each other.

Do not kill each other. Got it.

“Guilty as charged,” you said finally, the light tone you had hoped for not coming out quite right; but he didn’t hold it against you.

“Nothing to be guilty about,” he said, shrugging subtly. “I… might have gone for one of those myself had it had any effect on me.”

Right, you realized. Supersoldier. Accelerated healing, fast metabolism. You did happen to know he burned off most things even faster than other men built like mountains. Shorter and less broad mountains, that was.

You felt you head instinctively tilt to side a bit, contemplating what he said without spelling it out. He didn’t seemlike he needed a strong drink. In fact, he seemed perfectly like a fish in water among the sea of piranhas of people – and yes, you were aware that was a harsh judgement on some of them who were indeed rather pleasant to talk to – but Tony’s words echoed in your head.

He’s good at rubbing elbows, even if he hates it, he had said. Steve was exactly that; but apparently, he was also pretty great at hiding his distaste.

Of course that he was, you thought bitterly, even as a hint of compassion nudged at your mind; just because he was good at disguising it, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel just as sick filling the role of the most excellent companion.

“You could do it just to feel the heat,” you suggested half-heartedly, regretting the words as soon as they left your mind.

You had to phrase it just like that, didn’t you.

Steve watched you with unnerving intensity for a moment, before he seemed to shake off whatever dark thought had occurred to him, a small smile appearing on his face.

“That is true, but somehow it’s even more disappointing if that’s the only consequence, you know?”

“…right.”

He cleared his throat, your gaze falling to his bowtie as he released you from the trap of his gaze.

“Either way. Would you like to dance?”

Your head snapped back up, shock no doubt painting your face, rendering you mute. He wasn’t--- oh he was.

Despite your expression – one painfully resembling of a deer in the headlights of an off-road SUV coming at it at hundred miles an hour – he seemed unfazed, a slight twinkle of amusement in his eye barely noticeable in the otherwise genuine demeanour. You frowned, suspicion dying out as fast as it had arisen.

Whatever motive he had to ask, it couldn’t hurt the mission, you supposed. And it would be impolite to decline. You had promised yourself to meet him halfway in his attempts to be civil; and he had gone far beyond that. For the past two weeks, not having confronted you about either the flash-drive situation nor the went-full-spectre-in-a-public-park incident, that had been him being civil. Tonight, he was courteous even. Pleasant. Kind. You had no idea why he hadn’t sought you out to get answers or scold you, nor why he went this far out of his way to treat you like this tonight, but you had enough common sense not to poke even as it had been eating away at the back of your mind.

You just needed to accept it and be thankful, and needed to aid the common goal; and maybe, just maybe, revel in it and store the memory for later, even if such luxuries only burned with emptiness once they were gone.

But how could you do any different?

“Sure,” you said simply. “Why not.”

How could you feel any different when his lips smiled half-heartedly, but his eyes showed true warmth? A startling warmth almost; but it was nothing in comparison to the heat of his body when he offered you his elbow and led you to the small dancefloor in the adjacent room with only a few high tables lining the walls; it was nothing in comparison to the soft jolt of electricity that ran through your nerves all the way down your spine when his hand took yours carefully, eyes fixed on your face, checking for any sign of discomfort when he pulled you close at the first notes of a waltz.

Up close, without either of you screaming into each other’s faces, he was painfully beautiful; you knew that. You knew that already, because you had played the forbidden game of imagining what it would be like to see his face from this distance; but the reality of it was startling, a tingle of a thrill and pain at once. Inches close and miles away from reach. To be at the receiving end of the look in his eyes, painted partly by delusion and the aforementioned hits in the head you had probably suffered, was the sweetest torture.

It was impossible to ignore his firm but gentle grip, his confident lead; a wall of perfectly controlled muscle, hard planes of his body and yet its surprising softness and warmth, leaving your head spinning and sending your thoughts to an indecent dangerous direction; what would it be to feel him even closer? What would it be like to—

You’d never know. For a large part, of your own doing; for another part, of his own, because you had never met a more irritating person in your life and you had met a quite a few. He was impossible in his very unique different way – even as you knew that was tainted by your own perception – he was impossible in a way you couldn’t but want anyway.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear, snapping you from your useless musings back to reality.

Yeah, thanks, I was signed up for ballet class about as soon as I could walk, because it should have helped my posture and body coordination in preparation for working for SHIELD before I could attend martial class lessons. Because a kid younger of six years getting punched would have been a bad image for my parents. Not that I knew any of that at that time. Anyway, I had to rediscover my love for dancing much later on-

You cut off your train of thought, swallowing the unnecessarily hostile and dark truth. Instead, you reciprocated his easy subtle smile, something inside your quivering at the casualness and sincerity of the compliment.

“Depends on the lead, right?” you murmured.

Mentally, you sighed, cursing yourself for your loose mouth.

You could have said something along the lines of you too, and it would be an understatement; Steve’s lead indeed was firm but not forceful, elegant ease without a shred of indecency, his sense of rhythm impeccable, which was much more than you could say about some of your companions on the dancefloor. But no; you chose to mention his leading skills, instantly circling back to what was bothering you – you having standing up to his lead as a Captain before and him not mentioning it. He had kept blissfully quiet and here you were, dangling the topic you should have been glad had been put to rest in front of him as if you wanted him to take the bait no matter the cost.

You really must have been hit in the head; or perhaps you were finally returning to normal yourself.

But Steve Rogers was a man of many faces and surprises up his sleeves, apparently. His smile only widened briefly at your note, eyes flashing with amusement, before a little frown creased his brow.

“Don’t sell yourself so short.”

You gulped. Again. He complimented you with such ease, as if it was the most natural thing in the world; and it seemed like he meant every bit. The way your heart fluttered at that ached pleasantly. Hadn’t it been for the sober voice in the back of your head, telling you were on a borrowed time of this kind of treatment, it wouldn’t ache at all. It almost, almost didn’t.

Because the one word you had left out when thinking about his lead on the dancefloor, having avoided it on purpose, was safe. You entered an uncharted territory tonight; you knew Captain America’s lead from your numerous missions you had been chosen for under his command. And even as you had challenged his leadership before, you trusted him on that front. But tonight was a very different thing; and still, he somehow emitted the same aura, in a considerably more intimate way.

It was terrifying.

But as much as you were taken aback, with no clue how to even respond to that, your instincts – probably all over the place, because had you been in sound mind, you would have run for the hills before accepting his offer in the first place – whispered you were safe indeed.

And if you’d turn it into a joke, you’d be even safer.

“If that was a reference to my height, I’d like to point out everyone is short compared to you. And that is with all the extra inches--- that my heels have.”

Oh for god’s-

Your fingers flexed reflexively on his arm; your hand in his would have twitched if he hadn’t held it so firmly. You did not just say that, did you? Closing your eyes briefly, you felt your face burn hot, the furnace of Steve’s body suddenly feeling like ice in comparison. Why on Earth did you talk about inches? First feeling the heat, then this, damn Freudian slips, damn his well-fitting suit and handsome face-

Bless him, his chuckle was good-natured and not in the slightest dirty – then again, you should have expected nothing less from the golden boy, shouldn’t you? He wouldn’t hold it against you and had it been anyone else, you would have been grateful, much like in any other situation. But this was him and tonight your mission was literally to avoid this kind of embarrassing phrasing.

“You know what I meant,” he said, not unkindly – much to your relief and irritation.

You hummed noncommittally, still processing this was somehow a reality you had found yourself in. A reality in which Steve Rogers was a pleasant company, kept you close and safe enough that you had spent several moments with your eyes closed while dancing without fearing you’d end up with a broken ankle, a reality where-

“I wanted to apologize.”

-he just said he was sorry.

Your eyes snapped open, your step, a second nature you barely needed to think about, faltering just a fraction. You found your footing with the very next step and perhaps not even Steve had noticed; but he for sure must have noticed the undiluted shock that overtook your features.

Yet, he held calm in the face of your awe and bewilderment, gaze fixed on yours whispering of nothing but sincerity and regret indeed.

He was apologizing.The sudden lump in your throat was the only thing in physical reality that felt real at all; the rest truly must have been but a fever dream. That and the frantic beats of your heart.

“For what?” you asked quietly.

You weren’t trying to be petty, if he truly was apologizing. You meant it.

Naturally, you had a good idea what he was referring to, but that was part of the reason why it was so puzzling; more so since he now knew what the intel was about, since he was aware who exactly you put in danger by failing. Then again, the fact you were both here despite it told you all over again that he didn’t let that bother him too much.

But even with him deliberately ignoring the threat…

Yes, he had not acted very thoughtfully, but whether you liked it or not, he wasyour superior, he had put together that mission and so you understood the frustration he had felt at the moment. Hell, you had felt it yourself – you would have yelled at yourself too. And looking back, you knew that some of your momentary view of his behaviour and attitude, of his actions, stemmed from the fact you had been disappointed in yourself too; and that most time, he did in fact realize he could do wrong and that he in fact did care for every single member of the team. He probably did give a damn about the fact that you – your spectre anyway – got shot. He probably cared about the fact that two days ago, you left a big damn opening when you projected in public without making sure you had someone in your corner.

You weren’t sure that there was any need to apologize, even with him yelling at you in front of everyone to the point where you hadn’t been able to stand it and a few tears had escaped you – because damn, did he touch a nerve – even if he had been a bit of an asshole.

Most people apologized because they felt the need to ease their conscience, to keep up appearances; but seeing Steve now, the soft and strict lines of his face, told you that he was apologizing for your benefit mainly. It would be sweet if it was so irritating.

Golden boy. Shoved straight to your face. You could never be as good as him, because he simply wasn’t human – and you were the Inhuman from the pair. God, he had his hands on you and he didn’t even try to cop a feel or anything for crying out loud. He was being kind and respectful and so damn beautiful and tall.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he said slowly, gaze intent as if he wanted to make sure you absorbed every word. “I shouldn’t have done that to begin with, but the witnesses made it even worse. And all you did was making a quick decision in a difficult situation, according to your best conscience no doubt. I might not have agreed with it, but you still didn’t deserve such treatment.”

“And you’d do the same,” you added.

You almost slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as the words were out.

This was what happened when you felt safe. You talked back. Dammit.

You could see – and feel, because his chest was practically brushing yours, something you were hyperaware of even as you tried your best not to be– him breathe in to retort.

You really needed to have your head checked out. You should have just taken the apology and cherish it, like any normal person, even if it irked you that Steve Rogers was capable of self-reflection and had enough strength to admit his shortcomings. He was simply better than everyone else. It was easy to see that with no emergency in sight, but that didn’t make it easier to accept that and act accordingly every second of the day.

Yet, you tried at least now.

“Sorry! Sorry. Don’t push it, Spectre. Got it,” you blurted out, fixing a quick smile and you would have sworn you had seen a sparkle on mischief in his blue irises under the indignation. You cleared your throat. “Apology accepted, Captain.”

His relaxed his tense jaw, gaze softening further; painfully so.

“Thank you. And I thought you knew you could call me Steve.”

Golden boy – case on point. You swallowed, unable to keep the swirl of warmth in your chest from creeping into your voice even as you knew you were diving into dangerous waters with reckless abandon by following his request.

“Apology accepted, Steve.”

If your voice was warm, his smile was half the power of the sun, heating your very bones, your heart stumbling in your chest. You should run; you should run because you were never going to receive a gift like that again and the longer you basked in it, the worse it would be when it was gone. But you had already established that sometimes, you couldn’t help but throw caution out of the window despite knowing how much it would hurt later when you’d have to go and scramble to gather it again, hadn’t you?

And so when the song blended into another, the smallest squeeze to your fingers a wordless question, you nodded against your better judgement.

Steve’s smile grew a fraction, feet quick to adjust to the new rhythm, the air around you warmer another few degrees. It was hard to let his apology and kindness linger in the air and not react to it; even as you needed to breathe in and out a few times, eyes examining his face carefully as to predict whether what you were about to say would come back stabbing you in the back.

“I’m sorry for my outburst too. I… acted emotional.” As you recalled the traitorous tears that had escaped you, you thought that to say that was an understatement, but Steve didn’t seem to hold it against you. Instead, he listened with unnerving intent to all you had to say. “Which isn’t an excuse, but I’m still sorry. I… didn’t exactly watched my tongue. I mean, I didn’t-“

-I didn’t mean what I said, you wanted to say, your voice dying in your throat at the startingly gentle blue of Steve’s eyes, your breath hitching at the sudden vice squeezing your chest. This moment, whatever it was, was becoming overwhelming fast; and you found yourself unable to force the words out.

Because they weren’t true; you had definitely meant a few things, your anger with Steve snapping you back when you had been this close to gathering intel on something that threatened, without exaggeration, his life, just because he had been outraged at… whatever, that was very real. Much like him, you had had a reason for your outburst; and for that itself, you couldn’t apologize. Not when you wouldn’t mean it. Not when he was looking at you like he’d trust anything you said. You couldn’t but reciprocate his honesty even if it should earn you an official demerit from Captain America himself.

“…I didn’t mean at least half of the things I said.”

Steve’s welcoming expression shifted in an instant, your heart already startling in reaction to the change, muscles tensing in an instinctual fight-or-flight response.

And then your brain caught up.

Steve was grinning. He was grinning with mischief lightning up his face bright, humour dancing in his eyes – good-natured humour without a single trace of offense, but maybe with a little speckle of surprise; and if you looked close enough and entertained the thought, pride.

And by god he was breath-taking, leaving you feel like you had flown too close to the sun for a moment unaware that the inevitable fall would kill you.

“Well, as long as it was only a half,” he hummed, his amusement audible in his voice too. There was a strange but not unpleasant tilt to it; almost as if he knew that if he simply accepted your apology right away, the situation would have had you run for the hills indeed. “Apology accepted, Spectre.”

You gulped, taking a wavering breath, flying just a little higher. “You know you can call me by my first name too, right?”

That was only fair, no? That was what you told yourself until Steve smiled softly and repeated himself slowly, this time with your name indeed. That was when you realized you really had caught yourself in a foolish indulgence, because the feeling washing over you was… nice. Very, very nice. His tone, his words were both indescribably nice, and so was the way he held you to lead your through the room without an ounce of indecency, and so was his proximity and his warmth. It was dangerously nice and you felt your chest, having briefly be filled with that tender fragile feeling, tighten instead.

And then Steve spoke up again.

“…and you’re probably right.”

Your eyebrows shot up, gasping; and had you any different company than a room full of important or at least self-important people dressed in black-tie attire, you wouldn’t have stopped your jaw from falling.

Did he just-

Stop the presses! you wanted to shout.

Did he just admit he himself was a hothead?

What peculiar kind of an alternate reality had you entered indeed to see Steve Rogers admit he had been a hypocrite?

This was simply too satisfying to be true.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m the best example,” he added.

You found yourself chuckling through your shock, earning a glare that might have no anger in it, but certainly emitted indignation and gravity. Except the corners of Steve’s lips were twitching.

Damn him. Damn him and his charming side. Since when did he have a charming side and engaged in self-reflection so deep?

Since always, an annoying voice whispered in your head, reminding you that at certain times, you were, in fact, very well aware that Steve Rogers was just as golden as people claimed – even if in way they couldn’t hope to fathom and neither could, not fully.

“Nah, I think it’s one of the very rare traits of yours that should definitely be copied,” you retorted cheekily, never having time to wonder if you went too far since Steve simply kept him mouth shut.

It was a good thing he did, because if he didn’t, you might get tangled in your lie; and might have to admit that you believed that while there were a few of those that shouldn’t be copied in order for the world to maintain some shreds of sanity, there were many more of those which, should they be replicated, would make the world a better place. He probably knew that anyway; he strived to be the example to all. He didn’t need to hear it from you, didn’t need to know that despite your disagreements, you felt everything but contempt for him, with respect on top of the list. And then there was the fact that you were not blind to him being literally meant to be built like the peak of man and looked precisely like it.

And still, his silence surprised you. Despite what you thought of him on better days, it was still a wonder he didn’t try to disprove you; he was full of surprises tonight.

Then again, that was probably the point.

“You know, Tony and Pepper would probably have had no problem coming here tonight,” you spoke lowly into to the silence that settled between you. “They just pushed us together to do something like this.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped a bit, a brief smirk passing his lips.

“Well-aware. Does that bother you?” he asked, head tilted to side slightly.

You pondered his question for a bit, not sure why. You could have easily said anything, the first or the second or third lie popping up in your mind. But his genuinely curious gaze observing you as he waited for your response, his demeanour the whole evening, and his surprisingly open expression made you want to tell the truth again.

“Not that much. You’re not a bad dancer yourself,” you teased him lightly, feeling your lips permanently stuck in a smile now.

His own smirk melted into a smile again as well, soft crinkle in the corner of his eye.

“Thank you. I know I said it before, but you do look beautiful.”

You blinked.

There he went again, driving his point across; he wanted you to think, to believe perhaps, that his compliments were genuine, not a turn of speech. Why? And what could you even say to that when he kept looking at you like he meant it, the world around you blurring a bit, falling into but a background noise, years of training and his confident hold on you leading you through the dancefloor with ease still, even as the song must have changed again. Had it?

You wished conversation would come just as easy, even when emotions swirled in your chest wilder than your skirts around your calves.

“…thanks. Uhm, Tony said to buy something nice-“

“Mission accomplished, it suits you-“

“-I think he was probably sick of us clashing a lot lately,” you added quickly, almost speaking over him.

He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for – after all, he had brought up the topic of your fight in an environment where it would have been rude of you to flee just in case you wanted to and he wasn’t called a master strategist for nothing – so he caught your attempt to deflect. And he graced it with brief silence, not pushing, letting your words hang in the air for a moment. Golden boy. Perfect. Too good.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he hummed, one corner of his lips rising higher, his smile almost boyish now. “Did I mention I was sorry?”

“Yeah... did I?”

“You did.”

“Good,” you muttered, blissfully lost in his gentle gaze, even as you had to crane you neck a bit.

The moment was sweet. Slightly electric. Surprisingly comfortable. Peaceful.

Peace.

That was a specific word. With a pang in your chest, it occurred to you that was precisely what it was that Tony intended to achieve when he assigned you to this. To begin to renew the peace that had been within the Avengers family before your presence disrupted it. And Steve had accepted the invitation with you attached to it because he saw the importance of the team holding together from the strategic point of view.

Tonight was a mission. Necessary networking, even as Steve had tried to make it feel like anything but, and necessary attempt at smoothening the relationships within the team. Yes, it was beautiful, but Tony himself had called you a Cinderella. This was but a fairy-tale. An illusion. A projection.

The very spectre of you and Steve, of you being a full Avenger.

Once tonight was over, you’d have to snap back, like you always did. And like always, the pain of what you had lost as a spectre, be it blood or a warm embrace, would linger too. Back in your cold aching reality.

But not in Steve’s; Steve would remain who he was, to the world, to his team, to his friends. To you. It had been a sweet sentiment, a good-natured attempt; and for the night, it lasted. Once again, you felt played by your own naivety, already feeling your waxed wings melting and slowly prepared yourself for the brutal landing.

You kept up your smile, even as you felt the pleasant hum in your ribcage fall silent, your eyes not burning, because there was no reason for it, was there?

“You have good friends, Steve,” you whispered, the blue of his gaze warming up with fondness as he no doubt agreed. “They might be nosy, but they mean well.”

“And they are your friends too,” he replied softly, the pang in your ribcage stronger this time. He believed that, he genuinely did. Maybe that was why it hurt so much; he had seen the worst of the world and believed in the best still; you could read it in his actions, in his expression right now.

But you couldn’t bear it anymore, your gaze falling to the smooth fabric of his bowtie, contrasting with the pristinely white shirt indeed, just as you had known from the start he would wear. Pure. The symbol of all goodness in your culture. Just like him.

You heard what he was saying and yes, it was a tempting thought you had fallen for before. That you could be friends with the team, that the others cared – but you could count the number of people who cared for you on one hand and still had fingers left. People cared for your abilities, admired them maybe, sure. But you were a realist. Even before the Natasha incident – which truly was just her doing her job – you knew and you kept repeating it to yourself, because entertaining any other possibility was dangerous: your abilities, your results or the lack of them, those were what truly mattered. To everyone. To your father, eventually your mother too, to your SHIELD team, to your fellow Avengers. To Steve too. Had those powers come in a different meatsuit than yours, it wouldn’t change a thing. You were just a casing for what they needed.

It wasn’t okay, but it was alright.

The thing was, you couldn’t make Steve admit that – not him. He was a good man – infuriating one, yes, not without fault, yes, but incredibly undeniably good in his core. All the Avengers cared for people too, you would be an idiot not to see it, but if there was one person who would try to look the furthest beyond the abilities you carried, it would be him. Perhaps that was the scariest part of tonight – of him being not only civil, but perfectly pleasant and meaning it. Because he was just that perfect.

And perfect was never in your reach.

“Sure,” you replied absently as you looked up again.

You could tell his own gaze never left your face; and he no doubt noticed the change. His eyes were roaming your features, searching, wondering and seeing; you found yourself slipping into a neutral mask, your way too relaxed stance straightening, muscles tensing.

You only tensed further when you recognized softness and understanding creeping into his gaze, his voice quiet.

“You know-“

You thanked your lucky stars when the song ended and you were allowed to step back from him with an awkward smile.

“I’m going to find the restroom, excuse me.”

You swallowed heavily upon seeing something akin to disappointment and exasperation on his face; but when you pulled away, he didn’t stop you, didn’t use his strength to keep you in place, leaving the choice – as much as he clearly not approved of it – to you. You tried to force your smile further, grateful for that if not for nothing else.

“Thank you for the dance, stranger.”

And with that, you disappeared to the crowd, well-aware that if he wanted, he could have followed, because even in the sea of robes, his eidetic memory told him exactly what yours looked like.

Getting a fifteen-minute break from people, one in particular, was more than generous and yet you granted it to yourself; because putting yourself back together took time. Not for the first time, you sent a silent thank you to Agent May for having taught you her ways of accepting your emotions as they were, locking them away for later and channel them in the right direction when needed.

If you counted your dances with Steve – even as you tried very hard not to think about them – it added up for almost half an hour of the breather you had planned when getting the drink. You needed to go back to work, back to networking, because it was getting late; you had no doubt there were still people to talk to, no matter how efficient your colleague had been.

As you walked the halls with a smile arranged on your face, nodding politely at people admiring the various pieces of art of all forms, from drawings and paintings to sculptures and installations, your gaze fell on one of auctioned objects.

You smile slipped, your steps faltering along with the steady beat of your heart; and then you forced the corners of your lips back up, nails digging into the back of your hand as you folded them in front of your abdomen, to stop yourself from running to the glass stand where what seemed like a very old artifact was laid proudly on display.

And by old, you meant thousands of years old. And you really, really prayed that you were wrong, that your mind was simply playing tricks on you to avoid the emotional turmoil of today, to-

“Son of a-”

Three more steps closer and the curse was on your lips before you could swallow it completely, heart thundering in your chest against the sudden tightness. You didn’t like to be wrong; but in this particular case, you really wished you had been.

But apparently not.

See, this is why we can’t have nice things, you thought to yourself as you released a wavering breath and took off in the search of Steve, as if you hadn’t run from what seemed to be particularly nice things yourself only a little over ten minutes ago.

You swallowed the panic rising in your throat as you caught a glimpse of him talking to an elderly couple, telling yourself that your discovery was the only reason for that. Because that would be plausible and completely valid; an appearance of what SHIELD called an 0-8-4, an object of unknown origin, was never good news.

Except you were rather certain of its origin and that only made it worse.

Steve spotted you now, a small smile lighting up his face as if you hadn’t just taken an escape from when he tried to convince you were a part of the team in the friendliest sense of the word, gesturing to you lightly so the couple turned to you as well.

You smiled wider, squeezed your hand stronger. Too bad – the Lewises – had seemed nice enough when you had read up on them, were one of the rare attendees who were here for their genuine interest in art.

“Good evening, I am so sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Lewis,” you said sincerely, introducing yourself as the lady already extended her hand to you, followed by her husband’s. “It is a pleasure to meet you and I would be very happy to talk to you if you’d be willing, but I need to borrow Captain Rogers for a little bit-“

“By all means, Agent, don’t let a couple of old folks keep you two,” Mrs. Lewis chuckled, gently touching Steve’s forearm as she smiled at him almost motherly. “Thank you, young man, it’s nice to see bright young minds interested in conversations about thought-provoking art. Do find us if you can spare another minute later.”

“I would personally use the words lovely couple, Mrs. Lewis,” you said warmly before turning to Mr. Lewis. “I promise to bring him back as soon as possible.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Steve added as he covered her feebly hand on his, squeezing gently. “Agent?”

“Just a small issue, I’m sure it can be dealt with quickly,” you assured him in front of them, your face growing more serious the second you turned away, your voice falling so low only his enhanced hearing could hopefully catch it. “Thought-provoking art indeed. There’s an 0-8-4 on the items list.”

The way Steve’s back straightened, a sign of him turning mission-alert in an instant, would have been a treat to watch in any other circumstance, you supposed. But not in yours. And not in this case.

As you walked away, he followed your unhurried tempo, stopping by the displays briefly when you did, as if you were simply admiring the art. His face gave away nothing unusual happening beyond a minor inconvenience; you weren’t sure if he believed you were making a big deal out of nothing or if he was that good of an actor.

“Anything you encountered before? Potentially how dangerous are we talking?”

His voice had dropped too, but barely enough for you to hear. To an untrained eye, it probably looked like a normal hushed conversation, a couple – of friends – sharing opinions on the auction items indeed. Good. You didn’t need to spread panic on top of barely containing your own.

“Yes and no, I only recognize the symbols. And I can’t tell, but I wouldn’t underestimate it,” you uttered as you gradually moved closer, the artifact now in sight.

Steve stood diagonally beside you, barely a step behind your shoulder; he could keep his voice very low that way, practically whispering to your ear, while you could keep talking almost soundlessly.

“Should I recognize this? I’m not familiar.”

You bit back a bitter smile, stepping in front of the display together at last. The item itself looked unassuming; a stabile built of plates of metal, interwoven and reaching out of the tangle like tentacles. Except the surface of the plates wasn’t smooth; an intricate pattern of lines and circles rose slightly above it, a geometrical masterpiece only a few people on Earth knew the meaning of. Outside of Earth, well; you wouldn’t dare to guess.

The good news, hopefully, was that the sculpture meant to be in one piece was broken into two; that meant that if the effect was, like with many others you had encountered, tied to breaking the casing of whatever weapon it could be hiding, it had been out for a while and thus might not pose danger anymore. But you weren’t willing to take that chance.

“I’m not sure,” you whispered, almost choking out the words, wary of one word in particular as not to alarm anyone in vicinity just in case. “It is mostly Coulson’s team that handles all the… Kree mess.”

Short silence followed, only for Steve to draw in a shaky breath.

“…are you positive?”

It probably wasn’t meant to be a challenge, but you took it as one anyway, a flare of anger rushing through your veins, because was he serious? That was genuinely insulting. You spent practically your whole post-academy service to SHIELD with Coulson’s team following the trail of artifacts left behind by the lovely alien race Kree were – in fact, artifacts uncomfortably resembling this one. So yes, you were pretty bloody positiveyou were right.

You turned to Steve and took a step back to throw to his face – in as calm manner as was socially acceptable despite wanting to just spit it out – that you were pretty damn certain, because one did simply not forget a single thing about the literally blue aliens that indirectly gave them powers. Except you never got to make a single sound, because Steve’s eyes widened all of sudden, gaze still fixed on the display you had just turned your back to and his fingers closed around your wrist and tugged you closer to him again with surprising force given how gentle he had held you when you-- so not the time.

“Alright, point proven,” he whispered hastily, stepping back and releasing you before you could question him just turning from a gentleman of the year to a lout who just… grabbed a woman and manhandled her.

Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder just in time to see a faint light of the symbols dying out, your panic skyrocketing and making you forget all about your exasperation.

Oh. Oh, that was not good at all.

It recognized you. It sensed the Inhuman in you as you had unwittingly moved closer to it. It was reacting even sooner than the Diviner had, the first Kree artifact your team had encountered, whose symbols only lit up upon being touched by an Inhuman, or a person carrying Inhuman markers in their DNA yet to be turned into one.

“Sorry for-“

“It’s fine,” you interrupted his apology, appreciating it nevertheless. Yet, your smile probably turned out to be more of a grimace, bitter sarcasm bleeding into your tone. “Well, Tony said we should bid on something anyway, right? I’ve got my pick”.

Steve’s eyebrow twitched without a hint of amusement, but he didn’t disprove you, moving to scan the room for any vendor to start bidding indeed; you automatically reached for your black-tie-attire-friendly StarkWatch, to alert the HQ.

You never got to finish the message.

Steve never got to even step out.

A tell-tale metallic sound, a clink of a grenade hitting the tiled floor had both of you snap your head to the source, losing two precious seconds by looking for where exactly it landed, startled intakes of breath taken before a scream could gather in your lungs to warn people to get down.

There was no time to react. The screams aligned with the eardrum-rupturing noise of an explosion, a blur of a movement to your right and a force to be reckon with slamming into you.

Even without his signature weapon, Steve automatically threw himself between you and the grenade, pushing you down and shielding you with his body at least. The heat licked at your skin just as the pressure wave slammed into you both, sending you flying and crashing hard into the glass cabinet, Steve’s arm taking large portion of the brunt of impact.

A jolt of electricity rushed through your nerves along with the pain, a dull crack in your head, the edges of your vision blurring. You barely registered the stream of agents in black gear cutting through the clouds of smoke and vapour tear gas. Smell of copper and iron hit your nostrils, strong enough to make you nauseous; blood and fire. Steve’s cologne; then more blood. Lights and shadows bleeding into one, the former too bright for your smoke-filled teary eyes. The noise was deafening too – shouts and shrieks of terror you knew you should respond to, because it was your duty as an agent and as a half-baked Avenger.

But you didn’t seem to control your body for long enough to as much as lift your hand to check if the sharp pain in the back of your head was an open wound or not, let alone to climb to your feet as Steve’s voice echoed in your ears, warm hands firm on your waist, prickling sensations like thousand needles piercing through your skin all over.

The pain tore through every single cell of your body without warning, but you didn’t have time to find the cause or wallow in it; darkness enveloped you completely and you sank into its thick waters without a chance to fight it, until it swallowed you whole.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Hope you don’t mind a little cliffhanger, hehe... as a treat for reading! I wanna say I was really excited about this chapter, sneaking in something soft and fluffy in between the angst, but I’m excited to share everything so... yeah.

I would like to take a moment or two to thank you, again, for your comments. They give me a rush of joy and I read every single one of them more than once; they give me strength to continue even when sudden feeling of ‘this is meh’ attacks me and the thoughts you share ground me back in the story when I feel like I’m slipping away from where I wanted to take it. I cherish your feedback, no matter the form, so much. Thank you 💕

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #agents of shield #inhuman reader #agent reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanficton #back and forth #anika ann

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kyleoreillylover · 2 months

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Monster- Part II

Summary: Roman thought you would get over what he did to you, and stand by his side like you always did, but he was sorely mistaken. He learned he needed to face his demons in the form of you when you threatened to wreck everything the two of you have built, and he realizes you're just as much of a monster as he is, and doesn't understand why you are hurting him, why you want to take away the empire he built. But he wouldn't be Roman if he didn't use your demons against you, in the form of Jey

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, cursing, wrestling related violence, allusions to smut but no actual smut written, Roman Reigns being toxic but you’re just as toxic, etc.

word count: 19K

tagged: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01 @empressdede @judgementdaysunshine

a/n: not my best work, but I decided to try and get rid of my writers block, and a lot of people liked this one-shot, so I decided to turn it into a series!! hope ya'll enjoy!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“You know you can’t keep avoiding him, right?”

“Yes, I can.”

You sighed at feeling Jey’s stare burning a whole through you, waiting for you to look up at him. You avoided his gaze, focusing on putting on your outfit for tonight’s Smackdown. You were wearing Jey's merch with one of his jackets to cover up the bruises that were blooming on your skin.

Jey approached you slowly, his footsteps echoing in the quiet locker room. His hand reached out, gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met. "Baby, you can't keep running forever." he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "He's not going to leave you alone until you confront him."

You swallowed hard, knowing Jey was right but not wanting to admit it.

Ever since your loss in the HIAC match last week against Roman, you had been avoiding your former best friend. He thought you would run to him with open arms and get over the loss, but instead you were playing mind games by avoiding him, knowing it would hurt him, and tried to distance yourself from the pain and the memories that haunted you.

"I can't face him, Jey," you finally confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could handle it, but every time I see him, all I can think about is that match. How I let him embarrass me in front of you, how I let you down..."

"Hey, you didn't let me down." Jey's hand moved from your chin to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "You had all the odds stacked against you, and you still scared the hell out of Roman. You fought with everything you had, and that's all I could ever ask for."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Jey, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. "But I lost, Jey. I lost for us, for our family, for everything we stand for. I can't face him because I let him hurt you, I let him hurt the man I ove." You choked on the last words, the weight of your emotions heavy in the air.

Jey's expression softened, his thumb wiping away a stray tear from your cheek. He felt the same embarrassment, knowing he couldn't stop Roman from humiliating you in the match. humiliating you in the match. But his love for you overshadowed any feelings of resentment towards Roman.

Having to watch you take blow after blow from the outside of the cell, watching the two people he loved the most beat each other to hell, seeing you push yourself to your limits despite the odds stacked against you, it tore him apart inside. But he also knew that holding onto that pain wouldn't solve anything.

"Babe," Jey whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, "Roman didn't hurt me. He didn't hurt us. He just... he pushed us. The only thing he hurt was your pride, but you didn't let him break you. You stood tall in that ring, faced him head-on, and pushed him to his limits, and you think I could ever be ashamed of that?" He gently wiped away another tear, his eyes filled with love and admiration as he looked down at you, making you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. He wanted you to feel the love from him and know that he loves you no matter what. "Please...baby, I know this is hard for you, and I understand," Jey murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of your racing heartbeat. "But he's family, and-"

"I dont care if he's family!" you interrupted, your voice rising with frustration and hurt. "Family is supposed to have your back, not tear you down in front of the whole world! He's not family to me anymore, Jey. He's just... just someone I used to know."

Jey sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he processed your words. He knew deep down that you were right, that Roman's actions had fractured the bond that once held you all together. But he couldn't shake the feeling of loyalty, the sense of duty he felt towards his cousin, even in the midst of the chaos he had caused.

"I hear you, baby," Jey said finally, his voice tinged with sadness. "But for me, please try to at least talk to him. For the sake of our family, for the sake of us. Yell at him, scream at him, do whatever you need to do to get closure, but don't let this eat you up inside. We'll get through this together, okay?"

What you didnt know was that Roman was forcing Jey to choose sides, and Jey felt torn between his loyalty to his cousin and his love for you. So to stop the escalating tension between you and Roman, Jey felt compelled to intervene, hoping to find a resolution that would appease both parties without causing further rifts in their family.

You took a deep breath, steel your resolve, knowing that Jey was right. You couldn't keep avoiding Roman forever, and as much as you resented him for what he had done, you also knew that letting this fester would only cause more pain in the long run. With a nod, you squeezed Jey's hand, silently promising to face Roman head-on, for the sake of your relationship and your sanity.

"Okay, Jey," you whispered, your voice wavering slightly but filled with determination. "I'll talk to him. But only because you asked me to." Oh, talk to him you would. You never said you would forgive him or forget what he did, but you knew it was time to confront the demons that had been haunting you since that fateful match.

Jey's eyes softened with relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace. He was surprised that you agreed to talk to Roman, knowing you hated him right now with every fiber of your being. But he also knew that you were doing it for him, for your relationship, and for your own peace of mind.

He held you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you, silently promising to be there for you every step of the way. You felt anger course through your veins at the mere thought of facing Roman again, and you knew it would go in a way Jey wouldn't like. But you didn't care. You were done running, done hiding. It was time to confront the man who had shattered your pride and nearly torn apart everything you held dear.

Roman was angry as he made his way to the ring, Paul Heyman flanking him with a concerned look etched on his face. He thought you would understand why he did what he did during the match.

He thought you would see it as tough love, as a way to push you to your limits and make you stronger. He thought you out of all people would know that he did it for your own good.

But instead, he was met with silence, with avoidance, with betrayal. He couldn't understand why you were shutting him out, why you were pushing him away when all he wanted was to help you become the best version of yourself.

He thought you'd get over the loss , of him using Jey against you, but you were proving him wrong with every passing day. As he stepped into the ring, the crowd erupted into a chorus of boos, but Roman barely registered their disapproval. His thoughts were consumed by you, by the way you had been avoiding him, by the hurt and anger simmering just beneath the surface.

The moment he picked up a microphone, the arena fell into a tense silence, every pair of eyes fixated on him, waiting for his next move. "Y/N," he began, his voice low and controlled, "I know you're out there somewhere, hiding in the shadows like a wounded animal. But you can't hide from me forever."

He paused, letting his words sink in, letting the weight of his presence hang heavy in the air. "I did what I did because I care about you, because I wanted to push you to your limits and make you stronger. But instead of seeing it for what it was, you've chosen to see me as the enemy, as the one who tore you down instead of building you up."

He took a breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his emotions. "But I'm not your enemy, Y/N. I'm your family. I'm your best friend. And no matter how much you try to push me away, I'll always be here for you. You can't ignore your feelings forever, Y/N. Sooner or later, you're going to have to face them, and when you do, I'll be waiting. Because no matter what happens, no matter how much you hate me right now, I'll always love you."

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, unsure of how to react to Roman's unexpected vulnerability. But Roman paid them no mind, his focus solely on you, on getting through to you, on making you understand his perspective. He lowered the microphone, his gaze scanning the crowd as if searching for a sign, a clue as to your whereabouts.

"So come out, Y/N." Roman continued, his voice softening slightly. "Or are you too scared to face me?" Roman's voice echoed through the arena, cutting through the tension like a knife. He could feel the eyes of the audience on him, the weight of their anticipation heavy in the air.

But his eyes were focused on the ramp, knowing your music would begin playing now, knowing you couldn't resist protecting your ego.

Sure enough, the familiar strains of your entrance music filled the arena, eliciting cheers from the crowd. You paid them no mind as you stepped out of the back, your expression guarded but determined.

Jey was standing beside you, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder as you made your way to the ring. He was your rock, your anchor, the one who gave you the strength to face Roman head-on, even when every fiber of your being screamed at you to run.

Roman smirked to himself at the sight. He knew threatening the person you love most was a low blow, but he didn't care. He was tired of playing nice, tired of pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn't. He wanted answers, and he wasn't going to stop until he got them.

You climbed into the ring, your gaze locked with Roman's, neither of you backing down from the intense stare. You could feel the tension crackling between you, the weight of unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the air. But you refused to let Roman see how much he had affected you, how deeply his actions had cut you.

Jey lightly tugged on your arm, silently urging you to speak up, to get this over with. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"Roman," you began, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you, "You are standing there, all smug and self-righteous, as if I wasn't this close to becoming champion and taking everything you worked so hard to get. I was 3 seconds away from winning, so don't act like you are some untouchable god."

Roman cackled at your words, the sound echoing through the arena like a gunshot. "Oh, Y/N," he chuckled, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Don't act so surprised. You knew what you were getting into when you stepped into that ring with me. You knew the stakes, you knew the consequences. And yet, you still couldn't handle the pressure."

He took a step closer to you, his gaze unwavering. "You talk about being three seconds away from victory, but you forget that those three seconds were the most crucial of your career. Those three seconds were the difference between success and failure, between glory and defeat. And that's the difference between you and me. I don't crack under pressure, Y/N. I thrive on it. I thrive on the challenge, on the competition, on pushing myself to be better, to be stronger, to be the best.

But you? You crumbled. You let the pressure get to you, and you lost. And now you're standing here, trying to shift the blame onto me, trying to make excuses for your failure. But the truth is, Y/N, you have no one to blame but yourself."

Your jaw clenched at Roman's words, the anger bubbling up inside you threatening to spill over. How dare he stand there and lecture you about failure when he was the one who orchestrated your downfall? How dare he act like he was above reproach, like he was untouchable, like was not at fault when he was the one who manipulated the situation to his advantage?

Jey stood next to you, sharing a worried look with Paul and cautiously watching the tense exchange between you and Roman unfold. He could see the fire burning in your eyes, the rage simmering just beneath the surface, and he knew that if he didn't intervene soon, things would escalate beyond repair.

But before he could step in, you took a step forward, your fists clenched at your sides as you met Roman's gaze head-on.

"You want to talk about pressure, Roman?" you spat, your voice dripping with venom. "You want to talk about what it means to thrive on competition? Fine. Let's talk about pressure. I used our friendship in that match to gain an advantage, and like the idiot you are, you took the bait. It only took you some tears to distract you, to make you lose focus, to show the world that you're not as untouchable as you think you are."

You were now the one cackling at Roman's angry expression, relishing in the satisfaction of finally getting the upper hand. "'Oh Roman, I give up! Please, don't hurt me anymore!'

You mocked your words during the match, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really thought you could manipulate me into submission, didn't you? You thought you could use our history against me, use Jey against me, and I would just roll over and take it like a good little puppy. Well, guess what, Roman? I'm not your pawn. I'm not your puppet. And I sure as hell am not your friend."

Roman's expression darkened at your words, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure. He hadn't expected you to turn the tables on him, to use his own tactics against him. But as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't deny the truth in your words. He had let his emotions cloud his judgment, had let his anger towards Jey blind him to the consequences of his actions. And now, he was paying the price for his arrogance.

"Guys, maybe we should just calm down and talk this out," Jey interjected, stepping between you and Roman, his hands raised in a placating gesture. He could feel the tension in the air, the anger radiating off both you and Roman like a palpable force, and he knew that if they didn't find a way to resolve this peacefully, things would only escalate further.

But neither you nor Roman seemed inclined to listen to reason, both of you still seething with anger and resentment towards each other. You glared at Roman, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to control your rising temper.

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down, Jey," you snapped, your voice laced with venom. "He's the one who started this, who used you against me. He doesn't get to play the peacemaker now."

Roman scoffed at your words, his eyes narrowing in disdain. "You lost, you tapped out, you humiliated yourself in front of your family, and now you want to play the victim?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You made your bed, Y/N. Now lie in it."

Your blood boiled at Roman's words, the anger and hurt coursing through your veins like wildfire.

"How dare you!" You shouted, your voice echoing through the arena, your chest heaving with anger and frustration. You pushed Roman away from you, taking a step back to compose yourself.

"How dare I?!" Roman pushed back, his voice rising with fury. "How dare you come out here and try to blame me for your own failures? How dare you try to make me the villain in this story when all I've ever done is try to help you? You're the one who tapped out, who gave up, who let your pride get in the way of victory. And now you have the audacity to stand there and act like I'm the one who's wrong? You're delusional, Y/N. You're a disgrace to this family, to our legacy."

A resounding slap echoed through the arena as your hand connected with Roman's cheek, the sound reverberating like thunder in the tense silence that followed. Roman staggered back, his hand instinctively rising to his stinging cheek as he stared at you in shock, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Jey quickly stepped between you and Roman, his hands outstretched to keep you both apart. "That's enough!" he exclaimed, his voice firm and commanding. "Both of you, calm down!" He tried to push the both of you away from each other, Paul rushing in to assist Jey in diffusing the escalating tension.

But the damage had been done. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, and neither you nor Roman seemed inclined to back down. You glared at Roman, your chest heaving with anger and frustration, while Roman's expression was a mask of rage and indignation.

"You said you were gonna settle this, baby!" Jey grabbed your waist, pulling you away from Roman, his grip firm but gentle as he tried to calm you down. "You need to calm down, please, We can't go on like this. You're both tearing each other apart, and for what? A match? A championship? Is it really worth sacrificing your relationship over?" Jey's words cut through the tension like a knife, his voice pleading for reason, for peace, for a resolution that didn't involve further bloodshed.

Roman gripped the ropes of the ring, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. He glared at you, his eyes burning with anger and hurt, but underneath it all, there was a glimmer of something else. Something softer, more vulnerable, hidden beneath the layers of resentment and pride.

"You're still part of the Boodline, Y/N," Roman growled, his voice low and threatening. "You may not want to admit it, but you're still one of us. And no matter how much you try to push me away, I'll always be here for you. I may not agree with your decisions, with your actions, but I'll always love you. And I'll always be willing to fight for you, even when you won't fight for yourself."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm of emotions raging inside you. "I'm leaving the Bloodline, Roman." You declared, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart.

It was like a pin dropped in the arena, the crowd falling silent as they processed your words. Jey let go of your waist, his eyes widening in shock at your declaration. Roman's expression turned icy, his features hardening with anger, hurt, and betrayal.

"You're what?" Roman's voice was barely above a whisper, but the intensity behind it sent shivers down your spine.

"Yeah, you're what?" Jey's voice was sad, and filled with disbelief, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, any indication that you were joking.

"You pushed me too far this time, Roman." Your eyes were filled with tears as you took a step back, your voice trembling with emotion. "I don't care if you hurt me, but you hurt the man I love in front of me, and you made me watch the life slip from his eyes. I can't forgive you for that. I won't forgive you for that."

You bit your lip, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. "I'm done, Roman. I'm done being your pawn, your punching bag. I'm done sacrificing my happiness for your ego. I'm done pretending like everything is okay when it clearly isn't. I'm leaving the Bloodline, and I'm never coming back."

Roman's expression darkened, his eyes blazing with fury as he took a step towards you. You were his best friend, his family, his everything, and the thought of you leaving was like a knife twisting n his heart. "You... you can't leave, Y/N," he growled, his voice laced with desperation. "You're a part of this family, a part of this legacy. You can't just walk away from that."

But you stood your ground, your resolve unwavering despite the fear and uncertainty swirling inside you. "Watch me," you shot back, your voice firm and resolute.

You turned around, but you were stopped by Jey standing in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. His hand automatically went to your shoulder, and his eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he looked at you, his grip tightening slightly as if trying to anchor you to him, to the life you had built together.

"Y/N, please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Jey..." You started, but Jey nterrupted you, his voice filled with desperation. "Don't do this, baby. Please. We can work through this together. We can find a way to make things right, to rebuild what's been broken... we can start over, start fresh. You don't have to leave the Bloodline, leave me. We can make it work, I know we can."

"Yeah, we can make it work. Not me and Roman." You said softly, tears glistening in your eyes.

"You leaving is leaving us." Jey 's voice cracked as he spoke, his own tears threatening to spill over. "I can't lose you, Y/N. I can't lose what we have. Please, don't do this. Please, don't leave me."

It was like deja vu, watching him cry was bringing you back to when you forced Roman to sign the contract and thought you left Jey for good, and you knew you couldn't live without him in your life. So this time, you were gonna make the right choice.

"Then come with me," you whispered, reaching out to cup Jey's cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear. "Come with me, Jey. Leave the Bloodline behind, leave Roman behind. We can start over, start fresh. Just you and me, against the world."

Jey's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. The thought of leaving the Bloodline, leaving his family, wasn't something he could do easily.

Roman's laughter interrupted the tense moment, his voice dripping with scorn and amusement.

"Oh, this is rich," he sneered, his gaze flickering between you and Jey. "This happy couple thing the both of you have going on disgusts me. You two think you can just walk away from the Bloodline, from everything we've built together? You think you can just turn your backs on your family, on your legacy, and expect to live happily ever after? You're delusional, both of you. You'll always be part of the Bloodline, whether you like it or not. And if you think you can just walk away without consequences, you're sorely mistaken."

Roman's gaze went to Jey, and the angry expression on his face made Jey's heart grow with fear, scared of what Roman might do to him, to you, to their relationship. "Jey, I know I might be hard on you, but I love you. I did what I did to protect her, and I'm sorry for any pain I may have caused you."

You gaped as Roman was... outwardly apologizing to Jey. Roman NEVER apologized to anyone, let alone someone he considered family.

Jey's expression softened at Roman's unexpected apology, his gaze flickering between you and Roman as he processed the words. He could see the sincerity in Roman's eyes, the genuine remorse behind his tough exterior, and it gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to move forward from this mess.

"But you have to understand, she's making a mistake. She's letting her emotions cloud her judgment, and if you go with her, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. You'll regret leaving the Bloodline, leaving me. You'll regret choosing her over your own family."

"Roman..." Jey's voice was barely a whisper, his throat tight with emotion.

"Don't you dare make him choose between us, Roman." You glared at Roman, stepping in front of Jey to shield him from Roman's manipulative words.

"You're the one that said something about making a choice, Y/N," Roman shot back, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're the one that's forcing him to choose between his loyalty to his family and his love for you. So don't act like I'm the bad guy here."

"Miss Y/N, he's right, y'know?" Paul interjected, his voice calm but firm as he stepped forward, his gaze flickering between you, Jey, and Roman. "You're putting Jey in an impossible position, asking him to choose between his loyalty to his family and his love for you. And as much as you hate to admit it, Roman has a point. You are making Jey get hurt either way, and if you truly love him you would sacrifice your own desires for the sake of his well-being."

You clenched your fists, your jaw tightening with frustration at Paul's words. He was right, of course, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. You couldn't bear the thought of losing Jey, of watching him choose between you and his family, between his loyalty and his love.

But you also couldn't bear the thought of staying in the Bloodline, of subjecting yourself to Roman's manipulation and control any longer.

"You're the one that's choosing to walk away, to abandon your family, your legacy, your bloodline. And for what? For a relationship that's built on lies and deception? You think Jey is going to choose you over his own flesh and blood? You think he's going to turn his back on everything he's ever known, everything he's ever fought for, everything he's ever believed in, just to be with you?"

You turned to Roman, tears filling your eyes as you struggled to find the words to express the turmoil raging inside you. “Just shut up.”

“No, I’m not going to. And you know why?” Roman 's voice rose with anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he took a step towards you.

"Because I'm not going to stand here and watch you destroy everything we've built, everything we've fought for, everything we've sacrificed for, just because you can't handle a little pressure. You're selfish, Y/N. You're selfish for putting Jey in this position, for forcing him to choose between you and his family. And you're selfish for thinking that you can just walk away from the Bloodline without facing any consequences. I wont let you leave me, I wont let your stuborness destroy what we have, and I wont let you take Jey away from me."

Roman's voice was low and menacing, his eyes flashing with anger and determination. “You will thank me for stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life. You will thank me for saving you from yourself.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you took a step back, the weight of Roman's words bearing down on you like a ton of bricks. “I... you can’t force me to stay, Roman," you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion.

"Like hell I can't," Roman growled, his voice laced with venom as he took another step towards you. "You're not leaving, Y/N. Not now, not ever. You're practically my family, and I'll be damned if I let you walk out that door and never look back. You're staying, whether you like it or not."

You scoffed at the utter insanity coming out of Roman's mouth, unable to comprehend how someone could be so controlling, so manipulative. "Are you actually this insane Roman?! You can't control my life!"

"I can do whatever I want, Y/N," Roman snapped, his voice filled with rage and frustration. "I'm the head of the Bloodline, the Tribal Chief, and I make the rules around here. And the rule is, you're not leaving. Not without my permission."

Jey gently grabbed your hand, softly squeezing it in a silent gesture of support. "Baby, Roman doesn't mean any of that," he murmured, his voice filled with reassurance. "He's just... he's just scared of losing you, of losing his family."

You pulled away from Jey at his words. "What?" You stared at him in disbelief. You knew Roman had him in a chokehold, but you didn't think it was this bad. You were so gonna beat some sense into Roman.

"Jey, please tell me you realize how crazy that sounds. He literally tricked you last week and put you in a chokehold to make me tap out. You think family acts like this? That they hurt and manipulate each other like this?" Your voice cracked with emotion, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding around you.

Jey's expression softened, his eyes filled with regret as he reached out to cup your cheek. "I know, baby, I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.

"But he's family, and... and I can't just turn my back on him, on everything we've built together. I can't just walk away from the Bloodline, from our legacy. I can't... I can't choose between you and him, Y/N. I can't lose you, but I can't lose him either."

In Jey's mind, he stood up to Roman by not letting him take you from him and by being with you, so the two of you just needed to work your shit out and get on the same page.

You sighed, hurt, but knowing where he was coming from. You knew that Jey was torn between his loyalty to Roman and his love for you, and you couldn't fault him for it. But at the same time, you couldn't stand by and watch as Roman continued to manipulate and control both of you. You had to make a choice, and you had to make it now.

"I told you that he would never choose you over me." Roman's voice turned somber, and a sense of triumph rang in his words as he looked at you, his gaze piercing through the veil of uncertainty that shrouded your heart.

"So please... stop this insanity. Stop trying to tear apart the only family you've ever known, the only family you've ever had. You belong with us, Y/N. You belong with me. So please... come home."

You stood there, caught between the two men you loved most in the world, their words swirling around you like a whirlwind of emotions. Roman actually looked remorseful, regretful, and... lonely. For the first time, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain hidden behind the facade of anger and control.

And for a moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, a flicker of understanding for the struggles he had faced, the burdens he had carried.

"Okay...I'll stay. Under one condition," you said finally, your voice firm and resolute. "I get another shot at your title. If I lose, I stay in the Bloodline for good, no strings attached. But if I win... you let me walk away, no questions asked... and I bring Jey with me."

You could feel Jey's gaze burning through you from across the ring, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief at your ultimatum. Roman's laugh echoed through the arena, but you could hear the hurt and resentment beneath the surface.

"You think I'm going to let you get another shot at my title, Y/N? You think I'm just going to hand it over to you on a silver platter, like some kind of consolation prize?" Roman sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

"You had your chance, Y/N. You had your shot at glory, and you blew it. You tapped out, you gave up, you proved that you're not worthy of holding this title. And now you have the audacity to stand there and demand another shot? You're delusional, Y/N. You're living in a fantasy world if you think I'm going to give you another chance to humiliate yourself, to embarrass yourself, to hurt you, because believe it or not, I actually care about you, Y/N. I care about you more than you'll ever know, and I don't want to see you get hurt again."

You bristled at Roman's words, the anger rising inside you like a tidal wave threatening to consume everything in its path. "You care about me?" you scoffed, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"If you cared about me, you wouldn't have manipulated me, you wouldn't have used me, you wouldn't have hurt me. You say you care about me, Roman, but your actions speak louder than words. And right now, your actions are telling me that you don't give a damn about me, about my feelings, about my well-being. You only care about yourself, about your precious title, about your precious legacy. Well, guess what, Roman? I don't give a damn about your title, about your legacy, about your precious Bloodline.

All I care about is getting justice for what you did to me, to Jey, to us. So you can either give me another shot at your title, or you can watch as I tear down everything you've ever worked for, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but ash and dust. The choice is yours, Roman. But know this... I won't stop until I get what I want. And if that means destroying everything you hold dear, then so be it."

"No, you not gonna do this." Jey interrupted, his voice filled with desperation as he stepped forward, his hand outstretched towards you.

"You think those bruises on your body magically appeared? No, they were caused by Roman. He manipulated you into signing the contract, he hurt you, he humiliated you, he made you feel like you were worthless. And now you want to give him another chance to do it all over again? You want to risk getting hurt again, just for the chance to prove that you're better than him? You want to get hurt by him just to prove a point? Just to hurt him?! Are you fucking crazy, Y/N?! Do you want to end up like me, forced to watch as you get hurt over and over again, unable to do anything to stop it? Is that really what you want?"

You flinched at Jey's words, the pain in his voice cutting through you like a knife. He was right, of course. You had seen the bruises on your body, felt the pain in your bones, and you knew deep down that Roman was capable of inflicting even more damage if given the chance. But you also couldn't bear the thought of letting him win, of letting him continue to manipulate and control you, to dictate your life and your choices.

Damn your stubbornness that led you to this point. "Jey... I''m doing this, for you." Your admission hung heavy in the air, the weight of your words settling over the ring like a shroud of uncertainty.

"You never got to choose how things went down with Roman last time. You never got to stand up for yourself, to fight back against the injustice he inflicted upon us. And I can't just stand by and let him get away with it. I have to do something, Jey. I have to fight back, for both of us. Even if it means risking everything, even if it means putting myself in harm's way. I have to try, Jey. I have to try."

"I'm not letting myself hurt you again." Roman interrupted, his voice softening as he stepped forward, his gaze locked on yours with a mixture of regret and determination. "Listen to your boyfriend, Y/N. You really want to be battered and bruised again? You really want to do that? You can't beat me.

And even if you did somehow manage to win, it wouldn't change anything. I'd. never let you leave this faction, you'd still be part of the Bloodline, you'd still be my family, you'd still be trapped in this never-ending cycle of violence and betrayal. Is that really what you want, Y/N? Is that really worth risking everything for?"

You hesitated, the weight of Roman's words bearing down on you like a ton of bricks. He was right, of course. Even if you did somehow manage to defeat him, it wouldn't change the fact that he would never let you leave the Bloodline. You would still be trapped in a toxic environment, forced to endure his manipulation and control for the rest of your life. And as much as you hated to admit it, you knew that Roman was right. You couldn't beat him, not without sacrificing everything you held dear.

But as you turned to Jey, all that anger and hurt came back in a rush, the memories of everything you had endured together flooding your mind like a tidal wave. You remembered the nights spent comforting each other, the whispered promises of love and loyalty, the moments of pure bliss amidst the chaos of the world around you. And in that moment, you knew what you had to do.

"Yes." You whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked into Jey's eyes, your heart heavy with regret and determination. "I have to do this, Jey. I have to try. For us." You turned back to Roman, a defiant look in your eye that he loved and hated at the same time. "Please, Ro." At your nickname for him, he paused, his expression softening slightly at the familiar term of endearment.

"Please, Roman," you continued, your voice pleading now, "let me do this. Let me have one more chance to prove myself, to prove that I'm not just some pawn in your game. Let me show you that I'm stronger than you think, that I'm capable of standing on my own two feet, that I'm not afraid to fight for what I believe in. Just... let me try."

Roman stared at you for a long moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt, any indication that you weren't serious about this. But all he saw was unwavering determination, a fierce determination that mirrored his own, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest.

"If you can beat Auksa, and get back your Smackdown Women's Championship, then I accept your request," Roman finally conceded, his voice low and measured. "But know this, Y/N... if you fail, if you lose to Auksa again, then that's it. No more chances, no more second opportunities. You'll stay in the Bloodline, and you'll never leave again. Do you understand?"

You nodded, the weight of Roman's words settling over you like a heavy burden. "I understand," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd. "I'll do whatever it takes to win, Roman. I promise."

Roman's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of something akin to pride flashing in his eyes. "Good," he said simply, his voice firm but not unkind. "You'll need that title for when you lose to me for the 2nd time."

The tension in the arena was palpable as Roman's words hung in the air, a challenge issued and accepted. You knew that defeating Auksa and reclaiming your championship would be no easy task, especially with Roman looming over you like a shadow, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness. But you knew you could do it.

With a nod of determination, you turned away from Roman, but when you turned back to Jey and saw the look in his eyes, you knew he was anything but okay with your decision. His expression was one of heartbreak and disappointment, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he realized that you were going to go through with this risky plan. You reached out to him, your heart aching at the thought of hurting him even more, but he pulled away, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to compose himself.

But if you could finally beat Roman, then he would see that this was the right choice. You would prove to him that you were strong enough to stand on your own, that you were capable of making your own decisions, and that you were willing to fight for your freedom, for your happiness, for your love.

And that's all you ever wanted to do.

"Baby." You were now the one trying to talk to Jey, but he ignored you in favor of taking out your luggagge in your rental car. You felt a pang of sadness as you watched him, knowing that you had hurt him deeply with your decision to go through with Roman's challenge. But you also knew that you couldn't let his pain stop you from doing what you believed was right.

"Jey, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm, but he flinched away from your touch, his expression closed off and unreadable. "I know you're upset, and I understand why. But please, try to see things from my perspective. I have to do this, Jey. I have to try to beat Roman, to prove to him that I'm not just some pawn in his game. I have to try to reclaim my title, to show him that I'm stronger than he thinks. And if I don't... if I fail... then at least I'll know that I tried. At least I'll know that I didn't give up without a fight."

Jey sighed, his shoulders sagging with resignation as he turned to face you, his gaze softening with regret and understanding. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not saying that I don't understand why you're doing this. I do. I understand completely. But... but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, the weight of his disappointment settling over you like a heavy blanket. "I'm sorry, Jey," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you reached out to cup his cheek, but he pulled away from your touch, his expression guarded and closed off. "I'm sorry for hurting you, for putting you in this position. I never wanted to hurt you, Jey. You have to believe me."

Jey sighed, his gaze softening slightly as he reached out to take your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I know you didn't, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with sadness and regret. "And I believe you. I do. But..I know you ain't gonna stop till you get what you want, and I respect that about you. I just... wish you weren't so stubborn, that it wouldn't kill you to listen to me. Do you not see that I'm just trying to protect you, to keep you safe from Roman's manipulation and control? I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world, and I would do anything to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt.

But I also know that I can't stop you from doing what you believe is right, from fighting for what you believe in. And as much as it hurts me to see you put yourself in harm's way, I also know that I can't stand in your way, that I have to let you fight your own battles, make your own choices, and live with the consequences.

So... so please, just promise me one thing, Y/N. Promise me that you'll be careful, that you won't do anything reckless, that you'll come back to me in one piece. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you promise me that? That if you lose to Auska, then that's it. You'll stop trying to fight Roman and accept that you'll have to stay in the Bloodline, for better or for worse?"

You looked into Jey's eyes, seeing the love and concern shining through despite the pain and uncertainty clouding his gaze. You knew that he was asking you to make a difficult decision, to choose between your desire for revenge and your love for him.

And as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew that he was right. You couldn't keep putting yourself in harm's way, risking your safety and well-being for the sake of a vendetta against Roman. You had to put your love for Jey above all else, even if it meant sacrificing your own desires and ambitions.

With a heavy heart, you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you reached out to cup Jey's cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear.

"I promise, Jey," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I promise that if I lose to Auska, then that's that. I won't keep trying to fight Roman, to prove myself, to reclaim my title. I'll accept that I'll have to stay in the Bloodline, for better or for worse. I promise that I'll be careful, that I won't do anything reckless, that I'll come back to you in one piece. I promise, Jey. I promise."

Jey's eyes softened at your words, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt, any indication that you weren't being sincere. But all he saw was unwavering determination, a fierce determination that mirrored his own, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest.

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, cupping your face and kissing you on the lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth in a desperate attempt to convey all the love and longing he felt for you in that moment.

You melted into his embrace, the weight of his love and support enveloping you like a warm blanket, soothing the ache in your heart and easing the doubts swirling in your mind.

When you pulled away reluctantly, you clung to his comforting cologne and the feel of his arms around you, cherishing the warmth and security he provided.

"I love you, Jey," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his in a silent exchange of love and affection.

"I love you too, baby," Jey murmured, his voice filled with emotion as he pressed his lips against yours once more, savoring the taste and feel of you against him. "More than anything in this world. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to keep you happy, to keep you by my side. I promise."

You smiled through your tears, feeling a sense of peace settle over you as you clung to Jey, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a team, as partners, as lovers. "You really promise?"

Jey smiled at you, guilt and regret lingering in his eyes as he nodded. "I promise, baby. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to keep you happy, to keep you by my side. I won't let anything or anyone come between us, not even Roman."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. "Thank you, Jey," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jey smiled, his arms tightening around you. "You ain't gotta know. I'll always protect you." Even from yourself.

He felt that same guilt when he was pacing in the locker room right before your match. He was so deep in his anxious thoughts he didn’t notice the door open until his twin's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Uce. You alright?"

Jey looked up, meeting Jimmy's concerned gaze with a forced smile. He was glad his twin was finally cleared for in-ring action after his injury, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for dragging him into this mess with Roman and you. "Yeah, I'm fine, Uce," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to push aside his doubts and fears. "Just... nervous, I guess."

Jimmy frowned, his expression filled with concern as he stepped forward, his hand resting on Jey's shoulder in a silent gesture of support. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, Uce," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring.

"No, it ain't. You ain't been here, you don't know what been going on. Roman and Y/N been going at it, and I'm stuck in the middle. I just... I don't know what to do, Uce," Jey confessed, his voice filled with frustration and uncertainty.

"Did you talk to big uce?" Jimmy loved you and viewed you as a little sister, and he wanted nothing but the best for you and Jey. He knew that you both were going through a tough time, torn between loyalty to Roman and your love for each other. But he also knew that Jey needed to make a decision for himself, to choose what was best for him and his future.

Jey glared at the wall at the reminder of his conversation with Roman. It went about as well as you'd expected. Roman wasn't willing to let him go, to let either of you go, without a fight. And Jey didn't know if he had the strength to stand up to his cousin, to defy him and choose his own path.

"Yeah, everything's good. He said he'd let her fight Auska on her own, but you know him. He gon' do something to interfere. He always does," Jey muttered, his voice filled with frustration and resignation. "I just... I don't know what to do, Uce. I want to be there for her, to support her, but I also don't want to go against Roman. He's family, Uce. And I can't just turn my back on him, on everything we've built together."

Jimmy sighed, his gaze softening with understanding as he squeezed Jey's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I know, Uce. But just let them work their shit out. If Roman wants to do some shit, then you let him. And if he tells you to stay out of it, then you stay out of it. You gotta do what's best for you, Uce. And if that means staying loyal to Roman, then so be it. But if it means standing by Y/N's side and supporting her, then you do that too. You gotta figure out what you want, Uce. What's gonna make you happy in the long run."

But Jey didn't know what would make him happy anymore. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see you get hurt again, to watch as you put yourself in harm's way for the sake of revenge against Roman. He couldn't stand by and do nothing while you risked your safety and well-being for the chance to reclaim your title. But he also couldn't bring himself to betray Roman, to go against his family and everything they had built together.

A knock on the door made both men look up, and they saw you standing there, dressed in your wrestling gear and looking determined as ever, Naomi in tow.

Jey's heart clenched at the sight of you, knowing that you were about to step into the ring and face off against Auska, the current Smackdown Women's Champion, in a high-stakes match that could determine the course of your future.

"Can we come in?" You softly asked, your voice wavering slightly with nerves as you glanced between Jey and Jimmy. You could see the worry etched on their faces, and it only served to heighten your own anxiety about the upcoming match.

"Of course, baby," Jey replied, his voice soft and reassuring as he stepped forward to open the door wider, allowing you to enter the locker room. He could see the determination shining in your eyes, the fire burning bright despite the uncertainty swirling around you, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride swell in his chest.

"You ready for this?" Jimmy asked after giving Naomi a kiss, his voice filled with concern as he studied you closely, taking in your appearance and demeanor with a critical eye. He knew that you were facing a tough opponent in Auska, and he wanted to make sure that you were mentally and physically prepared.

"As ready as she'll ever be." Naomi chimed in, her voice filled with confidence as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, offering you a reassuring squeeze.

She narrowed her eyes at the worried looks on Jey and Jimmy's faces, knowing that you needed their support now more than ever. "You gonna show them what you're made of, right, sis?"

You nodded, a determined glint in your eye as you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. "Yeah, I'm ready," you replied, your voice steady and resolute despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

"We just wanted to say goodbye, before the match. Just in case." You forced a smile, trying to reassure Jey and Jimmy that you would be okay, even though deep down, you were terrified of what lay ahead.

Jey stepped forward, enveloping you in a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, protecting you from the doubts and fears swirling in your mind. "You got this, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with confidence and reassurance. "You're the strongest person I know, and I know you can beat Auska. Just stay focused, stay determined, and remember that I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."

You nodded, burying your face in Jey's chest as you allowed yourself to soak in his warmth and strength, drawing comfort from his his presence as you clung to him for support.

"Thank you, Jey," you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt as you breathed in his familiar scent, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. You pulled away and let him give you a good luck kiss, melting into him.

"Okay, okay, that's enough! I don't need to see that!" Jimmy exclaimed, pretending to shield his eyes from the affectionate display. You giggled at antics, kissing Jey exxageratingly, making him yell louder and Jey blush and chuckle in response. "Sorry, Uce," you teased, playfully ruffling his hair as you stepped back, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you at the sight of his smile. "We'll see you guys after the match, okay?"

Jimmy nodded, his expression softening with pride as he dapped you up. "Good luck out there, sis," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and encouragement. "I know you're gonna kill it."

You smiled at his words, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you did your handshake with him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "Thanks, Jimmy," you replied, your voice filled with determination and resolve. "I won't let you down."

With one last glance at Jey, you turned and followed Naomi out of the locker room, steeling yourself for the challenge that lay ahead.

"You see, she's fine." Jimmy concluded, his voice filled with pride as he watched you leave the locker room, knowing that you were about to face one of the toughest challenges of your career. He turned to Jey, his expression softening with concern as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "You gonna be okay, Uce?"

Jey nodded, a determined glint in his eye as he straightened his posture, steeling himself for the emotional rollercoaster that was about to unfold. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

He just wished those words would become true.

"You motherfucker!" Roman screamed at you as you made your way out of your new private locker room, courtesy of the new championship that rested on your shoulder, fury blazing in his eyes. "You tricked me!"

Let's go back to a hour prior, where you were beating the hell out of Auska. The match was violent, fast paced, and brutal, and for good reason: a title was on the line, and a rule was in place. If the ref caught anyone interfering, the other wrestle would automatically win. No one else knew this stipulation but you and Auska.

As you threw punch after punch, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you could feel the crowd's energy pulsating around you. Every strike, every kick, every move was fueled by a burning desire to prove yourself, to show Roman that you were not to be underestimated, that you were a force to be reckoned with.

But just as victory seemed within your grasp, just as you were about to deliver the finishing blow to Auska, everything came crashing down in an instant. Roman's music hit, interrupting the flow of the match. You scoffed, knowing the mind games he plays, and turned back to ignore the distraction.

Naomi was standing at ringside, her expression filled with concern as she watched the chaos unfold, but you couldn't focus on her right now. Your attention was solely on Auska, on the task at hand, on proving to yourself and to everyone watching that you were the rightful champion and that you were not going to let anyone or anything stand in your way.

It turned out to be a false alarm, and the distraction only lasted a few seconds. But those few seconds were all Auska needed to try and capitalize on your momentary lapse in concentration and mist you, just as she did before to take the title from you.

But Naomi yelled at you to watch out, and you managed to dodge just in time, narrowly avoiding the green mist, but it ended up hitting the ref instead, making him collapse to the mat in agony, clutching at his eyes. Auska stopped what she was doing as she realized the chaos that had ensued.

With the referee incapacitated, the match was thrown into disarray, leaving you and Auska in a standstill as you slowly looked back to her, and the hairs on her arms stood up as she saw the look on your face. It was a mix of fury, frustration, and determination.

Anger surged through you as you realized what Auska had tried to do, and you knew that you couldn't let her get away with it. Not again.

"Are you kidding me?!" You shouted at Auska, your voice echoing with fury as you advanced towards her, your fists clenched at your sides. "I'll fucking kill you!" You lunged at Auska, your rage propelling you forward as you unleashed a flurry of punches, each one fueled by the burning desire for revenge.

Your brain was on autopilot, your body moving on instinct as you unleashed all of your pent-up frustration and anger on Auska, each strike landing with precision and force. But even as you rained down blows on your opponent, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered a warning, reminding you of the consequences of your actions, of the potential repercussions of losing control.

But you couldn't stop. Not now. Not when victory was within your grasp, when all you could see was red, when all you could feel was the burning need for retribution. Naomi was hyping you up, encouraging you to keep fighting, her voice a constant stream of support and encouragement as you unleashed your fury on Auska.

But even as you fought, a sense of guilt gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of the promises you had made to Jey, of the risks you were taking by giving in to your anger and letting it consume you.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos came to an abrupt halt as your leg was pulled from underneath you, causing you to stumble and fall to the mat with a resounding thud. You blinked in surprise, momentarily disoriented as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

And then you saw Kairi smirking at you, then that smirk getting wiped off as Naomi launched herself at her, taking her down with a fierce tackle, the force of the impact sending both women crashing to the ground in a tangled heap.

Auska joined in the fight, and you quickly scrambled to your feet, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you launched yourself at Auska, the four of you engaging in a chaotic brawl as the arena erupted into a frenzy of cheers and boos.

The match had devolved into utter pandemonium, with bodies flying and fists swinging in every direction. The ref was still down, so there was no one to call for order or to declare a winner. It was just chaos, pure and simple.

You all eventually ended up backstage, still beating the hell out of each other, the chaos continuing unabated as the brawl spilled into the backstage area.

"You thought you could beat me, Auska?!" You growled as you slammed her against the nearest wall, your fists raining down on her with relentless fury. "You thought you could take my title from me?!" You punctuated each word with a punishing blow, the sound of your knuckles connecting with her flesh echoing through the hallway as you unleashed all of your pent-up anger and frustration.

Naomi grabbed Kairi by the hair, pulling her away from the fray and slamming her against a nearby equipment crate. "Y/N, finish her off!" Naomi yelled, her voice filled with urgency as she grappled with Kairi, trying to subdue her long enough for you to finish the job. She knew that you were on the brink of victory, that you had Auska right where you wanted her, and she wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

You nodded at Naomi's words, your heart pounding with adrenaline as you focused all of your energy on defeating Auska once and for all. You grabbed her by the head, and started dragging her to the ring, your hands gripping her hair tightly as you pulled her along, determination burning bright in your eyes, going faster as you could taste the victory and feel it on your fingertips.

But just as you reached the entrance ramp, ready to deliver the finishing blow and claim victory, a push from behind sent you tumbling down the ramp, Auska's limp body collapsing on top of you as you both crashed to the ground in a tangled heap.

You groaned in pain, the impact knocking the wind out of you as you struggled to catch your breath, your head spinning from the sudden fall.

As you lay on the ground, trying to shake off the dizziness and regain your bearings, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you at the cowardly attack. You glanced up, expecting to see Auska standing over you, a smug grin on her face, but instead, you were met with the sight of Roman, his expression twisted with rage as he glared down at you, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I told you, I won't let anyone come between us." Roman's voice was low, filled with barely-contained fury as he stared down at you, his gaze burning with intensity. "Not even you, Y/N."

Instead of reacting angrily like he expected you to, too, you surprised Roman by laughing, a smile on your lips despite the pain coursing through your body.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, taken aback by your unexpected reaction. "What's so funny?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation as he glared down at you. The ref was down after being misted, and he was about to cost you the match.

You grinned up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you shook your head. "That you only have yourself to blame for me winning." You replied, your voice laced with amusement as you pointed to the ref, who saw everything that happened and was signaling for the bell to ring.

"And due to disqualification, the winner and the new Smackdown Women's Champion, is Y/N!" The announcer boomed over the arena speakers, and you smiled even wider as Roman's eyes widened in shock, his expression morphing into one of disbelief as he realized the implications of your words.

You could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface, the frustration at having been outsmarted, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you at the sight of his defeat.

You got up with a smirk and made you way to the ring, grabbing YOUR title belt and holding it high above your head, your smirk turning into a smile as you saw Jey making his wy down to the ring, turning the other way and propping yourself up on the turnbuckle.

What you didn't see was Roman and Jey staring each other down, the tension between them palpable as they stood across from each other on the ramp, their eyes speaking more than words ever could.

Romans told Jey to go fix this or else, and Jey's eyes were telling Roman that he might choose his own path, to finally break free from Roman's control and to stand up for what he believed in.

But as much as Jey wanted to defy his cousin, to choose his own destiny and to fight for his own happiness, he couldn't bring himself to abandon his family, to turn his back on everything they had built together.

But then he thought of you, of the promise he had made to protect you, to keep you safe and happy, and he knew the only way to do that was to keep you in the Bloodline and make you and Roman patch things up. He could live with you being mad at him, but not with you being hurt because of Roman.

You dropped down from the turnbuckle to jump into Jey's arms, arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he caught you, spinning you around in a joyous embrace as the crowd erupted into cheers, the sound echoing throughout the arena. You couldn't stop smiling as you clung to Jey, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at the sight of his familiar face, knowing that he was there to support you, to celebrate your victory, to stand by your side no matter what.

"I did it, Jey," you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement as you looked into his eyes, seeing the pride and adoration shining in his gaze. "I actually did it!"

Jey grinned at you, his heart swelling with pride as he hugged you tightly, his arms wrapped around you like a protective shield. "I knew you could do it, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine warmth and affection.

"I'm so proud of you." The guilt lingered in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of the difficult choices he had to make, of the sacrifices he had to endure for the sake of his family.

But when you kissed him passionately, all thoughts of guilt and regret melted away, replaced by a sense of overwhelming love and happiness as you basked in the glow of your victory.

"Huh, answer me?! Roman's outburst brought you back into the present time, and you looked up at him, a defiant glint in your eye as you slowly rose to your feet, clutching the title belt tightly in your hands.

"It's not my fault you decided to interfere." You snarked at him, a defiant glint in your eye as you moved towards him, clutching the title belt tightly in your hands. "I played the game fair and square, Roman. And I won. So deal with it."

You noticed the mist marks on his face and started laughing. "Oh, I guess Auska wasn't too happy that you ruined her plan, huh?" You taunted, a smirk playing on your lips as you took a step forward, closing the distance between you and Roman. "Looks like karma's a bitch."

You tried to move past Roman, but he stepped into your path, blocking your way with his imposing presence. His eyes burned with fury as he glared down at you, his jaw clenched tight with anger.

"Why are you acting like this?!" Roman growled at you, his voice laced with frustration and disbelief. "After everything I've done for you, after all the opportunities I've given you, you choose to betray me like this?!"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief at Roman's words. "Betray you? Are you serious right now?" You shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stared him down, unflinching in the face of his anger.

"Yes, I'm serious." Roman replied, iconically sounding exasperated and defiant at the same time. "I've done everything for you, Y/N. I've given you opportunities, I've supported you, I've protected you. How many years have we been family, Y/N? How many times have I had your back, had your best interests at heart? And this is how you repay me? By going behind my back, by defying me, by siding with them?!"

"Siding with them? Are you hearing yourself right now? You sound insane!" You retorted, incredulous at Roman's accusations. "You're the one who started this whole mess, Roman. I'm the one trying to get my best friend back, to fix what you ruined!"

You took a step forward, your voice rising with each word as you stared Roman down, refusing to back down in the face of his anger. "I'm tired of being your puppet, Roman. I'm tired of living in your shadow, of doing your bidding without question. I have sacrificed too much for you to make you happy, let you push and push , but this time you pushed too far. And weren't you the one that said sometimes you need to show the ones you love the truth so they can understand the pain they cause?"

You paused, your chest heaving with emotion as you locked eyes with Roman, daring him to deny the truth of your words. "Well, consider this me showing you the truth, Roman. If I have to take the very title you hold dear to make you see that, then so be it."

Roman's expression was a mixture of shock and anger as he listened to your words, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to process the magnitude of what you were saying. He had never expected you to turn against him like this, to defy him so openly and without remorse.

But deep down, he knew that he had brought this upon himself, that his actions had driven you to this point, and he couldn't help but feel hurt at the thought of losing the person that meant more to him than anything else in the world. He thought of what he was doing wrong, of what he needed to do to make you loyal to him.

The only other time he had this issue was with Jey, and he made sure to make sure Jey knew his place in the Bloodline. But with you, it was different. You were family, but you were also his equal, his partner, his confidant.

Wait… Jey. Jey was the key in bringing you back into the fold, Roman realized. He pushed Jey to make put him in his place when he was acting out, and he knew he could do the same with you. He had to make Jey see reason, to make him understand that you both belonged with him, in the Bloodline, where you could thrive and succeed together. And he knew just the way to do it.

"Then I guess that applies to you too." Roman paused, his voice low and dangerous as he took a step closer to you, his eyes narrowing with determination. "If you want to show me the truth, Y/N, then let me show you mine." With that, he left the hallway, leaving you to contemplate the weight of his words and the implications of his actions.

You stood there in the hallway, feeling a sense of unease settle over you as you pondered Roman's warning. Part of you wanted to dismiss his words, to brush off his threats as nothing more than empty promises meant to intimidate you into submission.

But another part of you couldn't shake the feeling that there was truth to what he said, that he had the power and influence to make your life a living hell if you dared to defy him.

But you had Jey, Jimmy, and Naomi by your side. They would be by your side… right? Roman couldn't possibly turn them against you, could he?

"Baby?" At your voice, Jey perked up from where he laid in bed, turning to face you with concern etched in his features. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with worry as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"I feel like I should be asking you that." You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you snuggled closer to Jey, seeking comfort and solace in his embrace. "You've been quiet for the past few days. I know I leave you breathless with my beauty, but you have been unusually silent even for you," you teased, trying to lighten the mood with a playful jab.

Jey chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "I've just been thinking," he admitted, his voice low and reflective as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"That's not a good sign." You finished his sentence with a playful smile, reaching up to caress his cheek gently. "What's been on your mind, Jey? You know you can talk to me about anything."

Jey sighed, his expression turning serious as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with uncertainty and doubt. "I just feel like… I promised to protect you, to keep you safe and happy, but I don't know if I'm doing a good job of that." He confessed, his voice tinged with guilt as he struggled to put his feelings into words.

"I'm supposed to be the man and take care of you, but I'm failing at that." His voice was sad and filled with self-doubt, and you felt your heart ache at the sight of his pain. You reached out and gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze as you searched his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

"Jey, look at me," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing as you tried to convey your love and support through your voice, but he pulled away, avoiding your gaze as he shook his head.

"No, Y/N, I know what you're gonna say, that I'm doing my best and that's all that matters, but I'm not, and that's the fucking truth." His voice cracked under the weight of his emotions, his words filled with self-doubt and frustration. You could see the turmoil swirling in his eyes, the pain etched into his features, and it broke your heart to see him struggling like this.

"Jey, just because you feel like you're not doing enough doesn't mean you're failing," you interrupted gently, your voice firm but filled with compassion as you reached out to gently cup his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I'm doing this for you, I'm choosing to do this-"

"That's the problem, you're choosing to do this," Jey interjected, his voice tinged with bitterness as he pulled away from your touch, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and frustration. "You shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself for me, Y/N. You shouldn't have to put yourself in harm's way just to prove a point or to protect me. I should be the one protecting you, not the other way around."

"You are doing everything you can to protect me, Jey," you insisted, your voice filled with conviction as you reached out to gently touch his arm, hoping to reassure him of your love and support.

"How? By watching you put yourself in danger? By standing by while you risk your life for me?" Jey retorted, his voice laced with frustration as he turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer. "That should be me taking the hits, taking the risks, not you. I can't stand seeing you hurt, Y/N."

"And you think I should just sit back and watch you get hurt instead?" You shot back, your voice tinged with frustration as you struggled to make him see reason.

"Yeah, I do." Jey snarked at you, his tone defiant as he turned back to face you, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Because that's what I signed up for, Y/N. I signed up to be the one to take the hits, to take the risks, to protect you at all costs. That's my job, my duty, and I won't let anyone else take that away from me. Not even you."

You blinked at Jey's words, stunned into silence by the raw intensity of his emotions. "What's that supposed to mean, Jey?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you searched his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

"It means that I love you, baby." Jey replied, his voice soft and filled with emotion as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "It means that I would do anything to protect you, to keep you safe and happy, and I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me. I can't."

"But don't you get that I'm doing this because he hurt you! " You exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to make Jey understand the depth of your feelings.

"I forgave him, Y/N." Jey's voice was quiet, but filled with conviction as he looked into your eyes, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. "And I think you should too."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of their meaning sinking in as you processed his confession. "What did you say?" Your voice was barely a whisper, disbelief and shock coloring your words as you stared at Jey, unable to comprehend what you had just heard.

"I said I forgave him." " Jey repeated, his eyes firm and resolved as he met your gaze, his expression serious and determined. "Roman may not have always made the right choices, but he's still family, Y/N. And family sticks together, no matter what."

You shook your head in disbelief, unable to comprehend Jey's words. "What did he say to you?" You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you searched Jey's eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

"What?" Jey tried to act nonchalant, but you could see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the hesitation in his voice as he struggled to find the right words.

"Last week you were telling me that you have to let me fight my own battles, that you can't keep protecting me from everything. And now you're telling me that you forgave Roman? What. Did. He. Say. To. You?"

Jey's eyes were filled with fear and uncertainty as he met your gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled to find the right words to say. "Nothing. Let it go, Y/N," he replied evasively, his voice tinged with guilt as he averted his gaze, unable to meet your eyes.

"Jey, please." You pleaded, your voice soft and filled with emotion as you reached out to gently touch his arm, hoping to reassure him of your love and support, and he flinched away from your touch, his eyes filled with sadness and regret as he turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer.

"I can't, Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to contain his emotions. "I can't let you keep sacrificing yourself for me. I can't keep watching you put yourself in harm's way just to prove a point or to protect me. I have to do this, for both of us."

You felt a lump form in your throat at Jey's words, a sense of sadness washing over you as you realized the depth of his sacrifice, the lengths he was willing to go to in order to protect you and keep you safe. "Jey, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion as you reached out to him, desperate to make him understand. "I can't lose you too."

Jey's eyes turned glassy, but he refused to shed a tear, his expression a mix of pain and determination as he met your gaze, and the longer your heart writhed in pain. "How do you think I feel, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice filled with anguish as he took a step back, his eyes clouded with tears as he struggled to contain his emotions. "How do you think it feels to watch you put yourself in danger, to see you risk your life for me? I can't bear the thought of losing you, Y/N. I can't."

You felt your heart break at Jey's words, the weight of his pain and guilt crashing down on you like a tidal wave. "Jey… I'm sorry that I put you in this position," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you reached out to gently touch his arm, hoping to offer him some small measure of comfort. "I never meant to hurt you, or put you in the middle, Jey. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Then stop, Y/N. Stop putting yourself in danger for me. Stop sacrificing yourself for my sake. I can't bear to see you hurt, Y/N. I can't." Jey's voice was soft, filled with pain and confusion as he pleaded with you, his eyes pleading for you to understand, to see reason, to stop endangering yourself for his sake.

"You already got a championship, do you really need to risk your life anymore? Can't you just let it go? "

'I can't let you get hurt, otherwise Roman will do to you what he did to me' Jey thought, his heart aching with the weight of his guilt and regret. "Please, Y/N. Please."

You blinked back tears at Jey's words, the depth of his pain and anguish cutting through you like a knife.

" I'm sorry, Jey," you whispered, your voice filled with remorse as you reached out to gently touch his cheek, hoping to convey the depth of your love and regret through your touch. "But I can't stop when I'm so close to getting justice for what Roman did to you. I can't just let it go, Jey. Not when he's still out there, still causing harm to people I care about. I have to do this, Jey. For you, for me, for everyone he's hurt."

Jey's eyes softened at your words, a flicker of understanding crossing his features, and he looked like he wanted to get something off his chest that had been locked in his heart for far too long, but instead he remained silent, his emotions roiling beneath the surface.

"I need my best friend back, Jey." You pleaded, your voice filled with longing and sadness as you gazed into Jey's eyes, hoping to convey the depth of your emotions through your words. "This Tribal Chief bullshit is getting to Romans head, and he's not the same person he used to be. He's lost sight of who he is, of what's really important, and I can't stand by and watch him self-destruct like this. I have to make him see reason, Jey. I have to make him understand the consequences of his actions, of the pain and suffering he's causing to everyone around him. I can't just let him get away with it, Jey. I can't."

Jey's eyes turned icy, his expression unreadable as he listened to your words, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. "You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and filled with resignation as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with sadness and regret. "Roman's made his choices, and he's not gonna change just because you ask him to. You can't save him, Y/N. You can't fix him. And you can't sacrifice yourself trying to."

You felt a pang of guilt at Jey's words, the weight of his pain and sadness pressing down on you like a heavy burden. At the sight of your teary eyes, Jey sighed and inched closer to you, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. "Shh, I know baby. Please don't cry."

You wrapped your arms tightly around Jey, clinging to him for support as you buried your face in his chest, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you let out a choked sob. "I just want things to go back to the way they used to be, Jey," you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt as you allowed yourself to release all of the pent-up emotions that had been weighing on your heart. "I want my best friend back. I want Roman to see reason. I want us to be happy again."

Jey held you close, his arms wrapped around you like a protective shield as he gently stroked your hair, murmuring soothing words of comfort and reassurance as he tried to calm your racing heart. "I know, baby. I know," he whispered, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I got you. Always."

He maneuvered you to sit on top of him as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, cradling you in his arms as he held you close, his heart aching with the weight of your pain and longing. He whispered sweet nothings to you as your tears slowly subsided and your eyes turned heavy with the need for sleep.

Jey's arms tightened around you, his touch a comforting presence as you drifted off into a troubled sleep, your dreams filled with visions of the past, of happier times, of a future filled with uncertainty and hope.

As you slept, Jey stayed by your side, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched over you with a mixture of love and concern. His mind went back to his meeting with Roman, and the weight of their conversation weighed heavily on his mind.

"Jey, we both know she won't stop until she tears us apart." Roman had told Jey during their meeting, his face filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "She's stubborn, Jey. She's determined. And she's not going to give up until she gets what she wants.So I need to stop her from beating Auska, and you're not gonna stop me making sure that happens."

"Hold up." Jey interrupted, his expression filled with confusion and disbelief as he turned to Roman. "You want me to know you boutta sabotage her match? You want me to go against my own girlfriend, my own family, just to keep her from getting another shot at your title? Are you out of your damn mind, Roman?"

Roman's expression hardened at Jey's defiance, his gaze narrowing as he took a step towards him. "I'm not asking you to go against her, Jey," he replied, his voice low and measured. "I'm asking you to do what's best for both of you, for the Bloodline. And if that means stopping her from getting another shot at my title, then so be it. You know she can't beat me, Jey. She's not ready, she's not prepared, and she's not strong enough to take me on. So why would you want to put her in harm's way, to risk her safety and well-being for the sake of a foolish vendetta against me?"

Jey clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with frustration at Roman's manipulative words. He knew that Roman was trying to play on his fears and insecurities, to make him doubt his own judgment and loyalties. But deep down, Jey knew that he couldn't betray you, not after everything you had been through together. You were his rock, his anchor, his everything, and he couldn't bear the thought of turning his back on you, of betraying your trust and love.

"This is between the two of you." Jey finally spoke, his voice firm and resolute as he met Roman's gaze head-on. "I can't choose sides, Roman. I won't. Y/N is my girlfriend, my partner, my family. And I'll do whatever it takes to support her, to stand by her, to protect her. Even if it means going against you."

Roman's face hardened, and he took a step closer to Jey, the tension in the air palpable as the two cousins faced off against each other. "I heard Jimmy's coming back tonight." At the mention of his twin, Roman took a step closer to Jey, the tension in the air palpable as the two cousins faced off against each other.

"Yeah, he is." Jey replied, his voice tinged with caution, excitement and anticipation.

"Would be a shame if Jimmy got caught up in all of this, wouldn't it?" Roman's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a silent threat lurking beneath the surface.

Jey's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing as he stared back at Roman. "You wouldn't dare," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Roman's lips curled into a cold smile. "Try me," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "We both know that if I hurt poor Jimmy, that would only add fuel to the fire. Naomi would be distraught , Y/N would blame herself, and their relationship would be irreparably damaged. Are you willing to risk all that, Jey? Think about what's truly important to you. Is it your loyalty to your family, or is it protecting the ones you love?"

Jey's heart clenched as he gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. If he continued to defy Roman, he risked not only his own safety but also the safety and well-being of his loved ones. But if he betrayed you, he would lose the trust and respect of the person who meant everything to him.

"That's what I thought." Roman's voice was smug as he turned away from Jey, confident that he had gotten his message across. "You know what you have to do, Jey. Make the right choice."

His phone dinging brought Jey out of his thoughts, and he gently reached over to check the notification, his heart sinking at the sight of the message from Roman. "Did you convince her to drop the title match?"

That was their ultamatium. Make Y/N drop the match, or else Jimmy would pay the price. Jey's heart raced with fear and uncertainty as he read Roman's message, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Either you get hurt or Jimmy gets hurt. It was an impossible choice, a decision that tore at Jey's heart as he struggled to find a way to protect both you and his family. but he would rather hurt you emotionally then see his brother pay the price for his defiance.

"She's on the fence about dropping the match," Jey replied, his fingers trembling as he typed out the words, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. "But I'll try to talk her out of it."

A sense of unease settled over Jey as he hit send, knowing that he was betraying your trust and love in order to protect his family. But deep down, he knew that he couldn't risk Jimmy's safety, couldn't bear the thought of his brother getting caught in the crossfire of his feud with Roman.

A ding interrupted his thoughts, and Jey's heart sank as he read Roman's response. "If that doesn't convince her, then you know who pays the price." Jey's hands shook as he stared at the message, the weight of Roman's threat pressing down on him like a heavy burden. He knew that he had to do something, had to find a way to protect both you and Jimmy from Roman's wrath.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his heart breaking at the thought of what he had to do next. "I can't let anything happen to you, to Jimmy. I have to find a way to protect you both, no matter what it takes."

Jey knew that he couldn't let Roman's threats become a reality, and even if he had to betray your trust and love to make sure they don't come true, he was willing to do whatever it took to keep you safe.

FRIDAY NIGHT SMACKDOWN

incoming text from Naomi<3: girl, somethings up with our men.

outgoing text to Naomi<3: what do you mean?

incoming text from Naomi<3: Jimmy just left the house without saying anything, and Jey's been acting all weird and distant lately. I'm worried, Y/N. Something's not right.

outgoing text to Naomi<3: was jimmy acting normal before he left?

incoming text from Naomi<3: No, he seemed tense and on edge. And when I asked him where he was going, he just brushed me off and said he had some business to take care of.

outgoing text to Naomi<3: That's strange. Jey's been acting the same way lately. I think Roman is involved somehow. I think I know what's up. Talk to you after my interview. Love you.

incoming text from Naomi<3: kay boo, love you too <3

You turned off your phone as you shifted in your chair nervously, a tech telling you your interview segment with Roman would start in a few minutes. Your mind raced with thoughts of what could be happening. Jey had been acting strangely, and now Jimmy was mysteriously leaving the house without explanation. It all seemed too coincidental to ignore, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, and you seemed to know what it was.

"I'm Michael Cole, and welcome back to Friday Night Smackdown! I'm here with the Tribal Chief himself, Roman Reigns, and the Smackdown Women's Champion, Y/N, for an exclusive interview. Roman, Y/N, thank you for joining us tonight."

"Thank you for having us, Michael," Roman replied, his expression cool and composed as he settled into his seat, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You're welcome, Michael," you echoed, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you as you met Roman's gaze head-on, determined not to show any signs of weakness or fear.

"Now, let's get straight to the point. The 2 of you used to be best friends, the unstoppable duo of the WWE, now it seems like all of that is just a distant memory. Fights, clashes, and tension have been brewing between you two for weeks now. Roman, can you shed some light on what caused this rift between you and Y/N?"

Roman's gaze remained steady as he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. "This 'rift' was caused when I reminded Y/N of her place, and I did that at Hell in a Cell when I tapped her out. She just can't accept that while I see her as an equal, she is not on my level. She can't handle that I have the power that she has always yelieded, and she can't handle that I have the power now. You lost your title, and I had to punish you for your disobedience, and that's when you started to turn against me."

You clenched your jaw at Roman's words, fighting to keep your emotions in check as you listened to his manipulative rhetoric. "You know what Roman? You are right. I was foolish in thinking that I was exempt from your tyranny. I was foolish in thinking that you were still the same person I used to call my friend. But you're not, Roman. You've changed. You've let the power go to your head, and now you're just a shadow of the person you used to be.

You leaned forward in your seat, your eyes blazing with determination as you faced off against Roman, refusing to back down in the face of his intimidation tactics "But don't you dare forget that I was the person that helped create the Roman Reigns that everyone fears today. I was the one who stood by your side, who fought alongside you, who believed in you when no one else did. I was the one that built this monster that you've become, and now it's time for me to tear it down."

Roman tried to remain impassive, but you could see the hurt that your words inflicted, the flicker of doubt and insecurity that crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a facade of arrogance and superiority. "And don't you dare forget that you, Y/N, are the monster that helped me become the Tribal Chief," he retorted, his voice dripping with venom as he leaned forward, his eyes flashing with anger.

"You were the one who egged me on, who pushed me to embrace my destiny, who encouraged me to seize power at any cost. So don't try to play the victim now, Y/N. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you chose to align yourself with me, when you chose to stand by my side as my equal. You are a manipulative, calculating, and selfish person who will do anything to get what she wants, even if it means sacrificing the ones she claims to care about."

"That's rich coming from the person who's willing to manipulate and threaten his own family just to maintain control," you shot back, your voice dripping with contempt as you stared down Roman, refusing to be intimidated by his attempts to gaslight you.

"Oh really?" Roman leaned back in his chair, his expression filled with smug satisfaction as he met your gaze head-on. "And how many women in that locker room have you thrown under the bus to get to the top? How many friendships have you betrayed, how many promises have you broken, how many lives have you ruined just to satisfy your own selfish desires? Why do you think no one trusts you, Y/N? Why do you think you're all alone in this world, with no one to stand by your side? It's because you've burned every bridge, alienated every ally, and betrayed every friend you've ever had."

Your eyes turned steely as Roman continued his tirade, his words cutting through you like a knife as he struck at the heart of your insecurities and fears. The worst part was that he was right. You had made mistakes, you had hurt people, you had let your ambition and thirst for power cloud your judgment and lead you down a dark path. You were a monster that had created your own downfall, and now you were paying the price for your sins.

"And now here you are, acting like you haven't done anything wrong, like you're the victim in all of this," Roman continued, his voice filled with disdain as he stared you down, his gaze piercing through your defenses with a brutal honesty that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Well, let me tell you something, Y/N. You're not the victim here. You're the villain. You're the one who's been pulling the strings, manipulating everyone around you to get what you want. And now you're paying the price for your actions, for your betrayal, for your selfishness.

And you know what? You deserve it. You deserve to suffer, to feel the pain and anguish that you've inflicted on others. You deserve to be alone, to be abandoned, to be hated by everyone you've ever cared about. Because that's what happens when you cross the Tribal Chief. That's what happens when you dare to defy me. But you can end this cycle of pain and destruction, Y/N. You can stop fighting against me and embrace your destiny as my right hand women, and come back to your best friend!"

Roman concluded, his voice softening slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and pity. "All you have to do is drop the title match, and everything will go back to the way it used to be. You'll be safe, you'll be protected, and you'll have everything you've ever wanted. So what do you say, Y/N? Are you ready to stop fighting against me and start fighting alongside me? Are you ready to accept your rightful place by my side as my equal, my partner, my family?"

As you listened to Roman's words, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. His accusations stung, hitting painfully close to home, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder if there was a grain of truth to them. Had you really become the villain in this story?

Had your thirst for revenge blinded you to the consequences of your actions? And was it worth sacrificing everything, including your relationships with those you loved, just to satisfy your own desires for justice?

"Y/N," Michael Cole's voice interrupted your thoughts, bringing you back to reality as he turned to you expectantly, his gaze filled with curiosity and anticipation. "What's your response to Roman's offer? Will you drop the title match and reconcile with him and bring your title to the Bloodline, or will you continue to fight against him and risk losing everything?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come as you met Roman's gaze head-on, your eyes blazing with determination. "You call me a monster, but I'm not the one threatening Jimmy to get Jey to betray me."

At your words, Roman's facade of confidence faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he quickly regained his composure, his expression turning cold and impassive once again.

"Jey, you can come to me right now, I know you're watching, I won't be mad, I just want you to come to me." You looked straight into the camera, your voice breaking slightly with emotion as you addressed your boyfriend, hoping that he would hear your plea and make the right choice.

Roman's face turned from uncertain to smug as he realized he still held the upper hand. "I almost forgot how smart you are, Y/N. That's why you are my best friend and my partner, and I know you'll make the right choice." He said, his voice dripping with confidence as he leaned back in his chair.

"Jey, you can come out now." Roman instructed, and you scoffed as the camera panned on Roman's face, his smirk widening as Jey made his way from the corner of the room, stepping into view with a conflicted expression on his face.

Your heart sank as you watched Jey approach, his eyes filled with guilt and shame as he avoided your gaze, unable to meet your eyes. "Why are you putting him in the middle of this, Roman?" you demanded, your voice trembling with anger and betrayal as you turned to face Roman, your eyes flashing with fury. "He has nothing to do with our feud, nothing to do with our rivalry!"

Roman's smirk only widened at your outburst, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together in front of him. "Because, Y/N, Jey is family," he replied, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "And you said if you beat me, you would take Jey away from the bloodline, and you are not going to do that. So I had to remind him of where his loyalties lie, of what's truly important. And it seems like he's made the right choice, hasn't he, Jey?"

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Roman's words, the weight of his manipulation and coercion pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. You had hoped that Jey would stand by your side, that he would refuse to be swayed by Roman's threats and intimidation tactics. But now, as you watched him approach with a heavy heart, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal and disappointment wash over you.

Jey's jaw clenched as he stood before you, torn between his loyalty to you and his fear of Roman's retribution. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely audible as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with guilt and shame. "I can't let anything happen to Jimmy. I have to protect him, no matter what it takes."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched Jey turn away from you, his shoulders slumped with defeat as he joined Roman's side, his betrayal cutting you to the core. "Jey, don't do this." you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality of his choice.

"If you hurt Jimmy, I'll never forgive you," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away Jey, and your eyes were pleading with him to see reason, to stand up against Roman and protect his brother.

"No, Naomi will never forgive you if you continue to defy the Tribal Chief," Roman interjected, his voice cold and menacing as he fixed you with a steely gaze. "And I'll make sure she knows exactly who to blame if anything happens to poor Jimmy."

You clenched your title belt tightly, your knuckles turning white as you fought to hold back tears of frustration and despair. You had never felt so powerless, so alone, so utterly defeated in your entire life.

"You just proved my point. You are the most manipulative and selfish person I have ever known, Roman," you spat, your voice filled with contempt as you glared at him, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. "And if you think that using the person I love against me will make me give in to your demands, then you don't know me at all."

Roman leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as he watched you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Is that so, Y/N?" he replied, his voice calm and composed despite the tension crackling in the air between you. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see how long you can hold out against me, won't we? Because I'm not going to stop until you drop that title match and come back to the Bloodline where you belong."

He turned to Jey, who was standing by his side, his expression conflicted as he avoided your gaze. "Jey, what do you think? Do you think Y/N will come to her senses and do what's best for the Bloodline, or is she too stubborn and selfish to see reason?"

Jey hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between you and Roman as he wrestled with his conflicting loyalties. "I don't know, Roman," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I hope she does. For her own sake."

'Please don't make the same mistake I made, I'm begging you.' Jey thought.

Roman's lips curled into a cold smile as he turned back to you, his gaze filled with a predatory gleam. "Well, Y/N, the choice is yours," he said, his voice dripping with malice as he leaned forward, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You can either drop the title match and come back to the Bloodline, or you can continue to defy me and suffer the consequences. The clock is ticking, Y/N. Next week there will be a Tribal Meeting, and you make your decision there. Choose wisely."

With those ominous words hanging in the air, Roman stood up from his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he turned away from you, confident in his control over the situation. You watched helplessly as he left the interview area, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

You thought Jey would be by your side, that he would stand up against Roman's manipulation and coercion. But as you watched him walk away with Roman, a sense of betrayal and abandonment washed over you, leaving you feeling more alone and vulnerable than ever before.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said there wasn't a part of you that knew that eventually Roman's manipulation would wear down Jey's resistance, but you had hoped that he would have the strength to resist Roman's influence, to stand by your side no matter what. Now, as you watched him walk away with Roman, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal and heartbreak wash over you.

But amidst the pain and despair, a spark of defiance ignited within you, a stubborn refusal to bow down to Roman's tyranny, to sacrifice your principles and integrity for the sake of power and control. You knew that dropping the title match would only be the beginning, that Roman would continue to manipulate and coerce you into submission, until you were nothing more than the shell of the person you used to be. And you refused to let that happen.

Jimmy… you had to find jimmy.

You wiped the tears coming from your face as you stood up and walked through the hallway, your steps heavy with determination as you made your way to find Jimmy. You had to find what made Roman tick, and you had to make sure Jimmy was safe, to protect him from whatever danger Roman had threatened him with.

Finally, you found Jimmy about to leave the building, his expression tense and worried as he glanced around nervously. "Jimmy!" you called out, relief flooding through you as you rushed towards him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Where are you going? What's going on?"

Jimmy turned to face you, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in your disheveled appearance, your eyes red and puffy from crying. "Y/N, I can't be seen with you right now," he replied, his voice hushed and urgent as he glanced around nervously. "It's not safe for either of us."

"What do you mean it's not safe?" you demanded, your voice rising with concern as you reached out to grab Jimmy's arm, stopping him from leaving. "What did Roman do? What did he threaten you with?"

Jimmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he struggled to find the right words. "It's… it's complicated, Y/N," he finally replied, his voice tinged with regret as he met your gaze. "But you need to trust me when I say that you're in danger. Roman's not playing around, and if you don't do what he wants, then…"

His words trailed off, but you didn't need him to finish the sentence. The threat was clear, hanging in the air between you like a dark cloud. Roman would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, to maintain his control over the Bloodline, even if it meant resorting to violence and coercion.

"Naomi's worried sick about me," Jimmy continued, his voice heavy with guilt as he avoided your gaze, unable to meet your eyes. "She's afraid that something's happened to me, that I've gotten caught up in all of this mess between you and Roman. And I can't bear to see her hurting like this, Y/N. I can't bear to see her worrying about me, wondering if I'm safe, if I'm okay."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Jimmy's words, the weight of his love and concern for Naomi pressing down on you like a heavy burden. You knew that you couldn't let Roman's threats tear apart the people you cared about, couldn't let his manipulation and coercion destroy everything you had fought so hard to build.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you reached out to hug him tightly, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. ""I'm sorry that you got caught up in all of this, that you have to suffer because of my feud with Roman. But I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you or Naomi, or to Jey. I'll do whatever it takes to protect everyone, no matter the cost."

At the mention of his twin, Jimmy pulled back from the embrace, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "Y/N, I'm sorry bout Jey," he said, his voice tinged with regret as he met your gaze. "He doesn't mean anything that he's doing, he's just trying to protect us, to keep us safe from whatever Roman has planned. But I know that deep down, he still loves you, still cares about you, still wants what's best for you. Roman said…" Jimmy trailed off, his words catching in his throat as he hesitated, unsure of whether he should reveal Roman's ultimatum to you. But seeing the determination and resolve in your eyes, he knew that he couldn't keep it a secret any longer.

"Roman said that if Jey didn't convince you to drop the title match, then he would hurt me," Jimmy admitted, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with guilt and shame. "He said that if you didn't comply with his demands, then he would make me pay the price, that he would hurt me to punish Jey for his defiance. That Naomi would get hurt in the process, that I would be the one to blame for everything that happened. And I couldn't let that happen, Y/N. I couldn't let Roman hurt you or Naomi or anyone else because of me."

Your heart clenched at Jimmy's words, the weight of Roman's threats pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. You couldn't believe that Roman would stoop so low, would resort to using violence and coercion to get what he wanted. But deep down, you knew that there was nothing he wouldn't do to maintain his control over the Bloodline, to keep you under his thumb.

"Jimmy, listen to me." your voice firm and resolute as you met his gaze, your eyes blazing with determination. "This isn't your fault. I won't let any of you get hurt because of me. Go home to Naomi, and tell her that everything will be okay, because everything will be okay. I'll find a way to handle Roman, to protect you both from whatever he has planned. But for now, I need you to trust me, to believe that I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Can you do that for me?"

Jimmys face was conflicted as he listened to your words, torn between his love and concern for you and his fear of Roman's retribution. "I trust you, Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he reached out to squeeze your hand tightly, his eyes filled with gratitude and relief. "I trust that you'll find a way to handle Roman, to protect us from whatever he has planned. But please, be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

You nodded, a sense of determination settling over you as you met Jimmy's gaze, your eyes filled with resolve. "I'll be careful, Jimmy," you promised, your voice steady despite the fear and uncertainty swirling inside you.

A loud clank interrupted your conversation, making Jimmy nervously glance around and realize that at any moment , someone might discover the two of you talking. "I gotta go, Y/N," he said hurriedly, his expression tense with worry as he pulled away from you, his eyes scanning the hallway for any signs of danger. "But please understand that Jey cares about you, that' shy he's doing this, to protect you. He just doesn't know how to handle the situation right now. But I know he'll come around eventually, he just needs time to figure things out."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached out to squeeze Jimmy's hand one last time. "Thank you, Jimmy," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude and affection. "You're a good man, Jimmy Uso, and don't you ever forget that."

With those final words, you watched as Jimmy disappeared into the crowd, his figure fading into the distance as he made his way towards the exit. And as you stood there alone in the hallway, a sense of determination settled over you, a stubborn refusal to let Roman's threats and manipulation tear apart the people you cared about.

You just wished that Jey could see through Roman's lies and manipulation, that he could find the strength to stand up against him and protect you and his family. But for now, all you could do was wait and hope that he would come to his senses, that he would realize the true cost of betraying you for the sake of Roman's control.

And you knew just what move you needed to play.

"Yo uce, you need to chill out." At Jimmy's words, Jey whipped his head to him and glared at his brother, his frustration and anger bubbling to the surface.

"Chill out? You expect me to chill out when Roman is threatening to hurt you if I don't do what he wants?" Jey exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief and desperation. "When my girl hates me because she thinks I'm betraying her for the sake of Roman's control?"

Loud music thumped in the background at the party both twins were attending, the bass vibrating through the air as people danced and laughed around them, oblivious to the turmoil brewing between the two brothers. Roman had organized a party that served as a facade, a way to keep up appearances and distract everyone from the tension and conflict within the Bloodline.

Lavish decorations adorned the room, extravagant drinks flowed freely, and the atmosphere was filled with laughter and revelry. Wrestlers and celebrities that the Tribal Chief had invited mingled with the guests, creating a facade of camaraderie and unity that belied the underlying tensions simmering beneath the surface.

"She doesn't hate you, Jey," Jimmy replied, his voice calm and steady as he placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "She's just confused and hurt right now. She doesn't understand why you're doing this, why you're letting Roman manipulate you like this. But deep down, she knows that you love her, that you would never intentionally betray her trust."

Jey shook his head, his jaw clenched with frustration as he turned away from his brother, unable to meet his gaze. "It doesn't matter what she knows or doesn't know," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness.

He snatched a drink from the nearby table and took a long swig, the alcohol burning his throat as he tried to drown out his feelings of guilt and shame. "What matters is that I'm a fucking pussy that can't stand up to Roman, and she probably thinks I'm spineless for going along with his bullshit."

Jimmy sighed, his expression filled with sympathy as he watched his brother struggle with his inner turmoil. "You're not a pussy, Jey," he said firmly, his voice tinged with frustration. "You're just caught in a difficult situation, one that none of us saw coming. Roman has a way of twisting things, of manipulating people into doing what he wants, and you're just trying to protect us from whatever he has planned."

Jey scoffed, his bitterness and self-loathing bubbling to the surface as he slammed his drink down on the table. "Yeah, well, look how well that's working out for me," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I talked to her, and she doesn't hate you," Jimmy continued, ignoring Jey's bitter remark as he pressed on, his voice firm and determined. He watched as Jey downed another drink, his expression clouded with anger and frustration, and he knew that he had to find a way to break through his brother's defenses, to make him see reason before it was too late.

"She's just scared and confused right now, Jey. She doesn't understand why you're letting Roman manipulate you, why you're putting yourself and your relationship with her at risk for the sake of his control. But she still loves you."

Jey's eyes widened at Jimmy's words, a flicker of hope stirring within him as he processed what his brother was saying. "You think she still loves me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to face Jimmy, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation.

Jimmy nodded, his expression filled with reassurance as he met Jey's gaze head-on. "Of course she still loves you, Jey," he replied, his voice soft and gentle as he placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "You know, she was crying when she thought you were betraying her. That's not the reaction of someone who doesn't care. And you need to try to secretly talk to her, explain everything, and make things right before it's too late."

Jey's heart clenched at Jimmy's words, the weight of his brother's advice pressing down on him like a heavy burden. He knew that he had to find a way to reach out to you, to explain everything and make things right before Roman's manipulation tore you both apart.

"But how am I supposed to do that, Jimmy?" Jey asked, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "Roman's watching us like a hawk, and if he finds out that I'm trying to secretly talk to Y/N, he'll make good on his threats to hurt you and Naomi."

Something in the corner caught Jimmy's eye, and he gestured subtly to something behind Jey, taking the cup out of his hand. "Looks like we've got company," he said casually, his voice low as he glanced over Jey's shoulder.

Jey turned around to see Roman approaching them, his expression unreadable as he made his way through the crowd towards them.

"Jey, Jimmy," Roman greeted them, his voice cool and composed as he came to a stop in front of them, his eyes flickering with a dangerous gleam. "Having a good time at the party?"

Jey clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing with frustration as he met Roman's gaze head-on. "What do you want, Roman?" he demanded, his voice laced with hostility. He didn't have the patience for Roman's games, not when his relationship with you hung in the balance.

Roman's lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in closer to Jey, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "I just wanted to make sure that you're still on board with our little arrangement, Jey," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "Because if you're having second thoughts, then I'm sure Jimmy here wouldn't mind taking your place."

Jey's blood ran cold at Roman's words, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the true extent of Roman's manipulation and coercion. He glanced at Jimmy, who was watching them with a mixture of apprehension and fear, and he knew that he couldn't let his brother suffer because of his own weakness.

"I'm still in, Roman," Jey replied, his voice firm and resolute despite the fear and uncertainty rippling through him. He couldn't let Roman hurt Jimmy, Naomi, or you, couldn't let his own selfish desires put his family at risk,

Roman's smile widened at Jey's response, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he clapped a hand on Jey's shoulder, his grip firm and commanding. "Good," he said, his voice low and menacing. "I knew I could count on you, Jey. I need you to stick to the plan tonight."

"Tonight?" Jimmy echoed, his brow furrowing with confusion as he glanced between Roman and Jey. "What plan?"

Roman's smirk only widened at Jimmy's question, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he turned to face him, his expression cold and calculating. "Oh, I just invited-"

"Y/N?" Your name fell from Jey's lips like a prayer, his heart sinking as he watched you enter the house, and god did you look beautiful. If you thought Roman was lavish, you were the epitome of elegance and grace, your presence commanding attention as you made your way through the crowd with confidence and poise.

Makeup on point, your dress clinging to your curves in all the right places, your hair styled to perfection. You were a vision, a sight to behold, and Jey couldn't help but feel a surge of longing and desire wash over him as he watched you approach, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation.

"Y/N," Roman greeted you, his voice smooth and suave as he stepped forward to greet you, his eyes flickering with a dangerous gleam. "So glad you could make it to the party. You look stunning as always."

You nodded politely in response, your gaze flickering over Roman's shoulder to meet Jey's eyes, and the tension crackling in the air between you was palpable.

There was so much left unsaid between you, so many unresolved feelings and emotions swirling beneath the surface, and Jey couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret as he met your gaze, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was the reason for the pain on your face.

"I'm glad you invited me. I almost thought you had forgotten about me," you replied, your voice cool and composed despite the turmoil swirling inside you. You forced a smile onto your lips, refusing to let Roman see how much his presence affected you, how much his manipulation and coercion had torn you apart. "But it seems like I'm just in time for the party."

Roman smiled at you, his teeth glinting in the dim light as he gestured towards the crowd of guests milling around them. "Of course not, Y/N," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with charm and charisma. "I figured tonight I could show you what true family looks like, how we celebrate our victories together, as one cohesive unit. And what better way to do that than with a party, right?"

You raised an eyebrow at Roman's words, the sarcasm evident in your tone as you glanced around the room, taking in the extravagant decorations and lavish spread of food and drinks. "Ah yes, because nothing says 'family' like a room full of people you've threatened and manipulated into doing your bidding," you remarked dryly, your voice laced with contempt.

Roman's smile faltered slightly at your words, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a facade of indifference. "Come on, Y/N," he said, his tone light and casual as he tried to lead you to a quieter corner of the room, away from prying eyes and listening ears. "Let's not ruin the party with talk of business and politics. Tonight is about celebration, about unity, about family."

But you didn't let him pull you away from the main gathering, keeping your feet planted firmly in place as you met Roman's gaze head-on, your eyes blazing with defiance.

"You're right, let's not ruin this party. I brought a plus one, by the way," you interrupted, your voice firm and resolute as you gestured towards Jey, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of apprehension and concern, the tension between the two of you thick enough to cut with a knife. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought it would be nice for him to see what true family looks like, to experience the unity and celebration that you speak of."

You turned back to Roman with a look in your eye that meant you were planning something he couldn't anticipate, a sense of determination burning brightly within you as you stood your ground against him.

Roman's smile faltered at your words. "Of course not, Y/N," he replied smoothly, his voice tinged with annoyance as he turned back to face you, his expression carefully neutral. "Everyone is welcome at the party, especially family."

"Good." You nodded in response, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you watched Roman struggle to maintain his composure in the face of your defiance. You turned towards the door, and when you saw him, a smile lit up on your face. "Cause he's here right now."

"He?!" Jey whispered under his breath at the mention of another guy, his curiosity piqued as he glanced around the room, trying to spot the person you were referring to. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was, his eyes widening in surprise and disbelief as he took in their presence, standing at the entrance of the room with a confident smirk on their face.

"Seth!" You exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement and surprise as you rushed over to greet him, your steps quickening with anticipation. Jey's heart sank at the sight of Seth Rollins, his worst nightmare come to life as he watched you approach the man with a smile on your face, completely unaware of the turmoil raging inside him.

"Seth!" you called out again, your voice echoing through the room as you reached his side, your eyes bright with excitement as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. "I can't believe you made it to the party! It's been too long since we last saw each other."

Roman's expression turned angry at the sight of one of his biggest enemies, the man who stabbed him in the back and betrayed him numerous times in the past. "What is he doing here?" he growled, his voice low and menacing as he watched you and Seth interact with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "I thought I made it clear that he's not welcome in our family."

But you ignored Roman's question, too caught up in the excitement of seeing Seth after so long. "I missed you, Seth," you said, your voice filled with genuine affection as you pulled back from the embrace, a wide smile on your lips. "I'm glad you could make it to the party. You have no idea how much I needed a familiar face tonight."

Seth returned your smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced around the room, taking in the extravagant decorations and lively atmosphere. "Well, I couldn't pass up the chance to see my favorite person," he replied, his voice smooth and charming as he flashed you a playful grin. "Plus, I heard there was going to be free drinks and good company, so how could I resist?"

"You could resist because you weren't invited." Roman's voice cut through the conversation like a knife, his tone cold and menacing as he stepped forward to confront Seth, his eyes flashing with anger and hostility. "So you could leave right now and take your ugly outfit with you"

Seth's smirk widened at Roman's words, his expression unbothered as he met Roman's gaze head-on. "Ah, but where's the fun in that, Roman?" he replied casually, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I thought we were past all the animosity and hostility, that we could bury the hatchet and move on from our past grievances. After all, isn't that what brothers do, right? They forgive and forget, right?"

Roman's jaw clenched with anger at Seth's words, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of Seth's provocation, but before he could advance, you stepped forward, placing yourself between Roman and Seth, your eyes blazing with determination as you met Roman's gaze head-on.

"Let's not ruin the party with talk of business and politics. Tonight is about celebration, about unity, about family." You threw Roman's words back in his face, your voice firm and resolute as you stared him down, a manipulative smirk on your lips.

"Everyone is looking at you, Roman. Everyone is watching to see how you handle this situation, how you react to Seth's presence. And if you make a scene, if you let your anger and hostility get the best of you, then what does that say about you as a leader, as a Tribal Chief? What does that say about your control over the Bloodline, your ability to keep your family in line?"

Roman's expression hardened at your words, his gaze narrowing as he took a step closer to you, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Fine. Make yourself at home, traitor."

Seth's smirk only widened at Roman's threat, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he met Roman's gaze head-on, unafraid of the Tribal Chief's anger and hostility. "You know, Roman, for someone who claims to be all about family and unity, you sure do have a funny way of showing it," he replied casually, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But hey, who am I to judge? After all, I'm just a guest at your little party."

With that, Seth turned away from Roman, his attention shifting back to you as he flashed you a charming grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "So, Y/N, how about we grab a drink and catch up? I'm sure there's a lot we have to talk about."

You returned Seth's grin with a smile of your own, your heart pounding in your chest with excitement and anticipation. "I'd love that, Seth," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection as you linked your arm with his, allowing him to lead you away from the tense confrontation with Roman. "Let's go find a quiet corner and chat."

You passed by Jey, your eyes locking with his for a moment, and you could see the turmoil and conflict raging inside him, and wished that he was the one you were walking away with, that he was the one you were sharing this moment of reunion and companionship with.

But you knew that right now, he was still caught up in Roman's web of manipulation and coercion, unable to break free from the hold that his cousin had over him. And until he found the strength to stand up against Roman and choose you over his loyalty to the Bloodline, you had to focus on your plan and bringing him to you yourself instead of allowing Roman to continue controlling him.

"You're a really good actress." Seth commented as he led you away from the tense confrontation with Roman, his voice low and conspiratorial as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Roman wasn't following you. "I almost believed that you were glad to see me."

You chuckled softly at Seth's words, the tension slowly melting away as you allowed yourself to relax in his presence, grateful for the distraction from the chaos and conflict swirling around you. How did you and Seth get aquatinted, you might ask? Becky Lynch is the answer to that.

When Roman said you had no allies, something inside of you snapped, and you realized that instead of being a bitch and pushing away any allies in the women's locker room in favor of opportunities, you could actually start forming connections and alliances that could help you in the long run so you could forge your own path to success.

"I know you don't like me." You bluntly told her as you walked into the locker room, your tone firm and resolute as you met Becky's gaze head-on. "And honestly, I don't blame you. I've been a real bitch in the past, but if you want to get a head start in the line for my title, I would start listening to me right now."

Becky raised an eyebrow at your boldness, her expression unreadable as she studied you for a moment before responding. "You're right, I don't like you," she admitted bluntly, her voice tinged with skepticism. "But I can respect someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to go after it. So, what's the catch? Why are you suddenly willing to play nice?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a coy smile playing on your lips as you leaned against the locker next to hers, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'll give you a title shot."

Becky's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your offer, her skepticism giving way to curiosity as she considered your proposition. "A title shot, huh?" she echoed, her voice laced with intrigue. "And what's in it for you? Why would you be willing to give me a title shot out of the blue?"

You smirked at Becky's question, your mind already spinning with possibilities as you considered the potential benefits of forming an alliance with her.

"Because I need to get into Roman's head, and considering Seth is your husband, I figured you could help me with that." You replied casually, your voice filled with confidence as you met Becky's gaze head-on. "I need him to hang out with me when my plan starts, and I want your permission since he's your man, and I know how I'd feel if a random women started spending time with my husband without my knowledge or consent."

Becky regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and amusement, her lips curling into a wry smile as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not as dumb as you look," she remarked, her tone teasing as she gave you a once-over. "But why should I trust you? What's to stop you from double-crossing me and using Seth against me?"

You held Becky's gaze steadily, your expression serious as you made your intentions clear. "Because I'm not interested in playing games, Becky," you replied firmly, your voice tinged with sincerity. "I need your help, and I'm willing to offer you something in return. If you agree to work with me, to help me get inside Roman's head and figure out his plans, then I'll give you a fair shot at my title. No strings attached, no hidden agendas. Just a mutually beneficial arrangement between two women who have a common enemy."

Becky studied you for a moment, her gaze searching yours for any sign of deception or ulterior motives. Finally, she nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on her lips as she extended her hand towards you. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal," she said, her voice filled with determination.

And that is what brought you to where you were now, Seth's arm around your shoulder (platonically, but Jey didn't know that) as e led you away from the tense confrontation with Roman, his voice low and conspiratorial as you chuckled softly at his comment.

"Thanks, Seth," you replied, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you leaned into his side, allowing yourself to relax in his presence. "You aren't too bad yourself."

Seth chuckled softly at your response, his arm tightening around your shoulder as he led you to get drinks, the lights of the party casting a soft glow over the room as the music thumped in the background.

"Well, I aim to please," he replied, his tone playful as he glanced down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Becky told me that she made a deal with you to get a title shot in exchange for helping you with Roman. That's some pretty impressive maneuvering, Y/N. Looks like you're not as helpless as Roman thinks you are."

You smirked at Seth's words, a sense of satisfaction swelling within you as you realized just how far you had come since you first entered the wrestling world. "Your wife is pretty smart herself," you replied, your voice tinged with amusement. "And she knows a good opportunity when she sees one. You picked a good one, Seth. You're lucky to have her."

Seth chuckled softly at your words, his gaze warm and affectionate as he met your eyes. "Yeah, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with pride. "I'm a lucky guy. But enough about us. Let's focus on you and Roman. What's your plan?"

You glanced around the room, making sure that no one was eavesdropping on your conversation before leaning in closer to Seth, your voice low and conspiratorial as you filled him in on your plan to take down Roman. When you finished outlining your strategy, Seth nodded in approval, a confident smile on his lips as he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

"That's a solid plan, Y/N," Seth remarked, his voice filled with admiration. "You've really thought this through. I'm impressed."

"I know." You quipped, grabbing a fruity drink from a passing waiter's tray and taking a sip, the sweet taste of the cocktail washing away the lingering tension from your confrontation with Roman. Seth giggled at your confident response, his laughter mingling with the music as he took a drink of his own. "Well, I'm glad I could be of assistance," he said, his tone light and playful as he gestured towards the dance floor. "But enough about business. Let's have some fun and enjoy the party. What do you say?"

You grinned at Seth's suggestion, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you allowed yourself to let go of the stress and tension of the evening. "I say let's dance," you replied, your voice filled with excitement as you linked arms with Seth, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor.

You wrapped your arms around Seth's neck, moving in sync with the music as you danced together, the rhythm of the music pulsing through your veins as you lost yourself in the moment. The tension and conflict of the evening faded into the background as you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the company of your friend, the music drowning out the noise of the party as you moved together in perfect harmony.

3, 2, 1- You counted down, knowing what would happen when Seth's hands wrapped around your waist.

"I'll be gone, remember the plan." You whispered to Seth right as a hand grabbed your arm and started pulling you away from Seth, interrupting your dance mid-motion. You turned to see Jey struggling to maintain his composure, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration as he pulled you away from Seth, his grip tight on your arm, dragging you upstairs.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Jey growled out as he brought you upstairs and slammed open a door, dragging you inside before slamming it shut behind him, his chest heaving with anger and frustration.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were given permission to talk to me." You retorted sarcastically, pulling your arm out of Jey's grasp and trying to get to the door, but Jey blocking your path with his body, his eyes blazing with intensity as he glared at you. Damn, he looked good in his fitted suit, his muscles tense with pent-up aggression as he loomed over you, his presence dominating the small room.

"Don't play games with me, Y/N," Jey snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he took a step closer to you, his eyes flashing with anger. "I saw you out there with Seth, flirting and laughing like you didn't have a care in the world. Do you have any idea how that made me feel, seeing you with another guy?"

You rolled your eyes at Jey's accusation, your frustration boiling over as you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his anger. "I was not flirting with him. And now you know how I felt when you betrayed me for Roman," you shot back, your voice laced with bitterness as you pushed past Jey, making another attempt to leave the room.

But Jey was quicker this time, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist and pull you back towards him, his grip tight and unyielding as he glared down at you with intensity.

"Don't you dare try to turn this around on me, Y/N," Jey growled, his voice low and menacing as he forced you to look up at him, his eyes burning with anger and frustration. "I did what I had to do to protect you and Naomi, to keep us safe from Roman's threats. I didn't have a choice."

You scoffed at Jey's words, your frustration boiling over. "I know, and that's what makes it worse."

Jey stopped in his tracks, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly as he stared at you in disbelief, his expression softening with confusion and uncertainty. "What?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your face for any sign of deception or manipulation.

You sighed, your anger and frustration giving way to a sense of sadness and resignation as you met Jey's gaze head-on, your eyes filled with vulnerability. "I mean that I understand why you did what you did, Jey," you replied softly, your voice tinged with sadness. "I understand that you were trying to protect your family, that you were put in an impossible situation with Roman's threats hanging over your head. But that doesn't change the fact that you chose to betray me, to side with Roman over our relationship. And seeing you with Roman, seeing you go along with his manipulation and coercion, it hurt. It hurt more than you'll ever know."

You willed yourself not to cry, biting your lip to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over as you laid bare your heartache and disappointment, your words hanging heavy in the air between you as you waited for Jey's response. "And maybe I used Seth to make you jealous cause I knew there was no way you would talk to me without some kind of push."

Jey stared at you in stunned silence, his heart sinking at the pain and sadness evident in your eyes, his own guilt and regret weighing heavily on his shoulders. He had known that his decision to side with Roman would hurt you, but he hadn't realized just how deeply his actions had affected you, how much he had damaged your trust and faith in him.

"Baby, I…" Jey paused, his voice choked with emotion as he struggled to find the right words to express his remorse and regret.

"Do you know how I feel seeing you with another guy?" he finally continued, his voice raw with emotion as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. "It tears me apart, Y/N. It makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world, knowing that I'm the reason you're hurting, that I'm the reason you're crying. I never wanted to hurt you, baby. I never wanted any of this to happen."

Against your better judgement, you leaned into Jey's touch, the warmth of his hands comforting as you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him, to let him see the pain and sadness that had been weighing on your heart. "I know you didn't, Jey," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes. "But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. It doesn't change the fact you hurt me, Jey. And I don't know if I can just forget about it and move on like nothing happened."

Jey's heart clenched at your words, his own tears threatening to spill over as he realized the extent of the damage he had caused, the irreparable rift he had created between you. "I ain't have a choice, Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion as he searched your eyes for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. "I had to protect my family, had to keep you safe from Roman's threats. I couldn't risk losing you, losing Naomi. I know I fucked up, baby, but please… please don't give up on us. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust. Just give me a chance."

You sighed, torn between the love you still felt for Jey and the pain of his betrayal, the conflict raging inside you as you struggled to make sense of your feelings. He leaned his forehead against yours, his cologne deliciously scenting the air around you as the tension between you turned into sexual tension. Your heart raced as you felt the heat of his body so close to yours, his breath mingling with yours as you gazed into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and desperation reflected in their depths.

"Jey…" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart as you reached up to brush your fingers against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath your touch. "You hurt me."

"Then let me make it up to you." He pleaded, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours, the tension between you crackling with electricity. "Let me show you how much I love you, how much I regret hurting you. Give me a chance to prove myself to you, to earn back your trust and your love."

You hesitated for a moment, the conflicting emotions swirling inside you as you struggled to make sense of your feelings. But in the end, your love for Jey won out, the bond between you too strong to ignore. With a soft sigh, you closed the gap between you, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of the love and longing you still felt for him.

Jey's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate intensity that left you breathless. It felt like coming home, like all the pain and heartache of the past few weeks melted away, and in that moment, there was only you and Jey, lost in each other's embrace, trying to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship.

You slip your tongue into his mouth and brought your hand to his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate, the heat between you igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment.

Jey responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as he grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the nearby bed, the kiss deepening as he hovered over you, his body pressed against yours in a heated embrace. The air crackled with electricity as your hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring every inch with a desperate hunger born from weeks of longing and pent-up desire.

"Take off your suit." You whispered, your voice husky with desire as you reached up to unbutton Jey's shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

Jey complied eagerly, his hands fumbling with the buttons as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the sculpted muscles beneath, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. You ran your hands over his bare skin, feeling the heat of his body beneath your touch as you trailed kisses along his jawline, savoring the taste of him on your lips.

"I missed you," you murmured against his skin, your voice soft and filled with longing as you pressed your body closer to his, reveling in the sensation of his warmth enveloping you. "I missed this."

Jey's hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you as he trailed kisses along your neck, his lips moving with a fervent intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he trailed kisses down your chest, his hands deftly unzipping the back of your dress and sliding it off your shoulders, revealing the lingerie underneath.

You watched him with hungry eyes, the desire burning brightly within you as he worshipped your body with his hands and lips, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You tried to focus on his body, on his soft lips against yours, on how good his hands felt as they explored every inch of your skin, but a thump in the background grew louder and more persistent, but you tried to ignore it until you heard a loud crash outside the room, followed by raised voices and the sound of scuffling. You and Jey froze, the passion of the moment shattered as you exchanged worried glances.

"What the hell was that?" Jey muttered, his voice tense with apprehension as he pulled away from you, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger.

"It was Seth." You looked up at Jey, your eyes widening with concern. The plan was going well, but you knew Jey wouldn't like the idea of Seth being involved in your scheme against Roman. "He got into a fight with Roman downstairs. It was my plan." You quickly zipped up your dress as Jey helped you with your dress before you helped him with his suit.

"Go the fuck to hell!" You heard Roman's booming voice from downstairs, followed by the sound of a scuffle and a loud crash. Jey's eyes widened in shock and concern as he processed your words, his mind racing with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

"Let's go." Jey said urgently, his voice tense with apprehension as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door, his muscles tense with pent-up aggression as he prepared to confront whatever chaos awaited them downstairs.

You nodded in agreement, your heart pounding in your chest as you followed Jey out of the room and down the stairs, the sounds of the commotion growing louder with each step. When you reached the main hall, you saw Roman and Seth locked in a fierce struggle, their fists flying as they traded blows with ferocious intensity. The room was in chaos, guests scattering in all directions as they tried to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

"You're the weakest link in your own group, and that's why Y/N is smart enough to bring me here." Seth taunted Roman as he dodged a punch and delivered one of his own, his voice filled with confidence and defiance as he faced off against the Tribal Chief. "You think you can control everyone around you, but you're just a puppet master pulling the strings of your own downfall."

Roman growled in frustration, lunging at Seth and punching him square in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. "I'm the Tribal Chief!" Roman roared, and Jey and Jimmy grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back before he could do any more damage to Seth. "And I'll be damned if I let some backstabbing snake like you undermine my authority."

"You wanna talk about backstabbing?" Seth cackled at Roman's words, wiping the blood from his split lip as he regained his footing, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You are nothing but a traitor, Roman. You turned your back on your own family, on your own blood, all for the sake of power and control. You think you're untouchable, that you can manipulate and coerce everyone around you into doing your bidding. But you're wrong. You're not as powerful as you think you are, Roman. And sooner or later, your reign of terror will come to an end."

Roman's eyes blazed with anger and hurt at Seth's words, but security intervened before the situation could escalate any further, separating Roman and Seth and ushering Seth out of the house.

"You." Roman turned to you, his eyes narrowing with fury as he advanced towards you, his fists clenched at his sides. "You set me up, didn't you? You brought Seth here to provoke me, to try and undermine my authority. You know what he did to me, and you still brought him here to hurt me."

"Just like you hurt me by using Jey against me?" You shot back, your voice cold and composed despite the turmoil swirling inside you. "How does that sinking feeling you get in your stomach feel, Roman? How does it feel to know that the people you thought you could control are starting to see you for the manipulative, power-hungry tyrant that you really are?"

"Jey hates your guts, Roman. He's only here because he wants to protect me from you." You continued, your voice dripping with contempt as you stood your ground against Roman, refusing to let him intimidate you.

"Oh please, what are you talking about…" Roman trailed off when he noticed that your hair was tangled, your dress was wrinkled, and when he turned to Jey, his hair disheveled and that guilty look in his eyes, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place as he realized what had transpired while he was preoccupied with Seth.

"You two…" Roman's voice trailed off, the anger and hurt evident in his eyes as he looked between you and Jey, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "You distracted Jey so that Seth could provoke me and make me look like a fool." Roman's voice was low and dangerous, his gaze flickering with anger and betrayal as he turned his attention back to you, his expression cold and unforgiving.

"I did no such thing," you replied calmly, meeting Roman's gaze with steely resolve. "But if you want to believe that, go ahead. It doesn't change the fact that your grip on the Bloodline is slipping, Roman. You can't control everything and everyone around you forever. Sooner or later, your reign will come to an end."

You felt everyones eyes on you as the party came to an abrupt end, guests murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out, leaving you, Jey, and Jimmy alone in the empty hall. "You should clean yourself up, Roman," you continued, your voice dripping with disdain as you turned on your heel and started to walk away, Jey following closely behind you. "You have a lot of work to do if you want to salvage what's left of your reputation."

You wanted to hurt Roman like he hurt you, and you knew that the best way to do that was to hit him where it hurt the most - his pride and his reputation. You had planted the seeds of doubt in his mind, sowing discord and chaos within the Bloodline, and now it was only a matter of time before those seeds grew into something much bigger and more destructive.

"Oh, and you don't have to wait till next week to know my decision about our match, I'm not dropping out. And if you hurt Jimmy, you'll face Seth instead of me, and we both know you don't want to face him." With that final warning, you turned to Jey and blew him a kiss before heading out of the door, leaving Roman seething with anger and frustration in your wake.

Your plan worked out perfectly.

1- You made Roman look like a fool in front of his guests, undermining his authority and sowing discord within the Bloodline.

2- You showed Jey that he couldn't ignore his feelings for you any longer, pushing him to confront the truth about his loyalty to Roman and his own desires.

3- Roman couldn't use Jimmy against Jey anymore, knowing you are willing to bring Seth into the mix if he tries to hurt his cousin, and now Roman couldn't guilt you into staying with him by threatening Jimmy.

Maybe you were a monster. But you didn't care, because sometimes you had to become a deamon to stop the monsters around you.

Cause Jey was worth losing yourself for.

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princesssmars · 4 months

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plsssss do something for michael munroe im so starved

i could change your mind

some college football player mike headcanons.

contains: fluff. some nsfw. american football gross. mike is cocky whats new. fem!reader. hair nor skin color described.

a/n: anon i lowkey miss him too so i'll do a few headcanons for you anon. sorry that my until dawn rewrite is like on hiatus I just feel like it's gonna be such a flop so my brain says it cant be bad if I don't write it ??? idk. ty for making me do this. set in college but i've decided to start a year late so if i get shit wrong sorry scholars. (heart fingers emoji I'm on desktop fml.)

idk why but the first thing that popped into my head was him loving a sport...like he gives smart but also dumbass jock to me we let's go with he did football in high school and he's at college on a scholarship.

if you're like me you don't give two shits about the sport you probably would not like twice in a football player's way, which he definitely sees as a challenge. he'll come up to you in the dining hall and try to hit on you in front of his jock friends, spouting a "whatever you say, sweetheart" when you reject him with a grimace.

to your surprise and horror he's in one of your advanced classes in your second semester, sitting with his feet up next to your seat with a smile when you walk in. you do call him troglodyte for having his shoes on the table but he says with an easy smile that he's in with the teacher who said it was alright.

great.

for the first three weeks, you try to ignore his questions and poking at all costs, but when you get paired up on an important assignment you decide to hold your disdain on pause. he invites you to "study in his dorm" which nearly gives you a migraine, until he chuckles and tells you he's joking, telling you you can meet at common ground and study in the library.

you hold your tongue instead of giving a quip about how he probably won't be able to keep his mouth shut, but once you actually get there you realize the worst thing ever: mike munroe isn't a moron. he's actually pretty smart, maybe nearly as smart as you, and shows pretty good leadership with how he takes in both your academic strengths and divides the workload based on them. its not hard to see why he's the quarterback.

after you get an a+ on your project, you start to warm up to mike. his stupid quips in class start to actually become funny, leading to numerous moments where he makes you snort in class and the professor rolls his eyes.

your friendship soon grows enough that mike has the confidence to invite you to one of his games while you're walking around campus, and if you start to say no he informs you that he will not hesitate to get on his knees and beg in front of everyone. that makes you feel a little weird so you groan and tell him fine.

the whole time you don't really know what's going on, even though ten minutes before he had to get ready he tried to cram all of the rules into your head. even though you don't know everything you can tell when something good happens, like when he makes the touchdown that wins your school the game. he celebrates with his team members and his crowd of fangirls before coming over to you, clearly waiting for you to say football is fun or something,

you don't. but the after-party definitely was. you don't know what that frat guy put in the punch but it was good, and had you nearly drunk in only two hours. nearly being a keyword, because someone who was past the point decided to do a childish game of seven minutes, and you decided to play along for fun.

but it wasn't so funny when they spun the bottle and it landed on you, then the next turn between two people to point towards the couch where mike was watching with his friends. they both burst out laughing at the horrified look on your face as you reluctantly follow him inside the closet.

for the first minute it's quiet, soft noises from the two of you adjusting your bodies in the quiet space and "sorry"'s when you bump into the other.

he takes your silence for uncomfortableness, telling you he's alright with just sitting with you. "one of my favorite things to do actually"

you don't really know why but you kiss him after that. when you pull away you can faintly see his blank face. great. you ruined everything. you're about to give some half-assed excuse before his hand is on the back of your neck and he's pulling you back into him and pressing your body into his.

things get weird after that night.

you're still friends after that night, of course. except now its...different.

you still have your movie nights laughing at people making dumb decisions in horror movies, except now you'll sometimes wind up on mike's lap with your tongue down his throat.

you still text each other stupid pictures you found on snapchat (he insists on using it, fuckboy he is. or used to be, weirdly). except now before you go to sleep he'll send you a picture of his bulge with a smiley face at the bottom. if you send a picture back he'll send a long voice message that you don't open for your own sanity.

but you aren't like. dating. and you don't know why in passing you hear his teammate nick call you "mike's girl". because you aren't. at all.

and plus its not like you've slept together or even gone on an actual date. you're just...closer than normal friends are.

and then he leaves the next december to spend a week with his old friends, and you kind of mope around campus while he's gone. he makes sure to text you constant updates until the night where he arrives at the cabin, where he leaves you delivered for two days. he did say his ex was going to be there, so that nagging voice in the back of your head is telling you the worse.

until you finally get the call from some random number in alberta. when you pick up after some initial confusion you hear mike on the other side.

"mike? what the actual hell? its been two days, thought you somehow managed to get lost in the snow."

he laughed on the other line, able to tell you're insult at his intelligence meant you cared. his voice sounds hoarse.

"yeah, yeah i know. i'm sorry. something came up and i...i've been stuck in this damn police station-"

"police station? jesus, how hard did you guys party."

he calls your name and it's serious. he only sounds like that when something important or bad has happened.

"mike? is everything ok?"

"no, no its not. josh is...he's gone. the cabins gone. we're all pretty messed up."

you don't give a response, waiting for him to elaborate if he wants to.

"i don't know what to say..i'm so sorry."

"it's alright. i'll explain more when i get back. i just wanted to hear your voice."

"now you're really scaring me."

he laughs again, the scratch of his voice returning.

"thank you."

"for what? constantly insulting you and bringing you back to reality?"

"for making me laugh. haven't done it in a while."

"yeah, well...i'll make sure your roommate hasn't completely trashed your dorm. and we can get some takeout. on me, because i'm polite."

"screw that, we're going on a date."

your heart skips.

"did you actually get a concussion because that's not funny."

"im serious. no more being a pussy. time to start getting serious. plus we're basically already dating, so."

"god, why does everyone keep saying that?"

"i'll see you soon."

the phone hangs up and you toss the phone to the side with a slight smile.

#until dawn #until dawn x reader #mike #mike munroe #mike munroe x reader #mike munroe smut #minke munroe fluff #football player!mike #college!mike

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