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daryltwdixon · 13 days ago

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Could you do bicep choking 🌚🙈

Daryl Dixon x Reader Grip

Summary: You let something slip—just a thought, just a passing comment—but Daryl hasn’t been able to shake it since. A week later, the tension between you reaches a breaking point. tags: smut MDNI 18+, awkward pining, pinv, breast play, praise kink. awkward daryl & fmc, bicep choking obvi a/n: hello my love! thank you so much for this request and for your patience. in a second ask, anon did specify that they meant Daryl bicep choking. fair warning, I did not reread this a ton / proofread much. please lmk of any mistakes/errors!

The sun hangs low over the trees, heat pressing in heavy as you weave through the abandoned gas station, boots crunching softly over broken glass. Daryl moves a few steps ahead, bow slung across his back, knife in hand, moving with that effortless quiet of his. Always aware. Always in control.

And his arms.

You tell yourself you’re just paying attention—watching his movements like he watches everything else around him, staying alert. But your gaze keeps catching on the shift of muscle beneath his skin, the way his forearms flex when he grips his knife, the lazy tension in his biceps every time he lifts his arm to wipe sweat off his brow.

You shouldn’t be looking.

But it’s hard not to.

Especially when he plants a boot on a fallen shelf, using his weight to pry open a rusted metal door. The strain makes his muscles coil tight, veins standing out just enough to make you swallow hard.

"Well?" His voice snaps you out of it.

You blink. "What?"

Daryl jerks his chin toward the darkened storage room behind the door. "You goin’ in first or what?"

Shit. You’ve been staring.

"Yeah. Right. On it."

You step past him, ears burning. The space inside smells like old rot and motor oil, a few overturned boxes scattered around. You crouch, rifling through some supplies, heart still kicking too fast. It’s stupid. You’ve been on runs with him before. But something about today—the heat, the silence between you, the way he’s been rolling his shoulders like his muscles are wound too tight—has you hyper-aware of every damn thing he does.

A tin of peaches clatters loose from a shelf, and you reach for it at the same time he does. Your fingers barely brush his, but the contact is enough to send a jolt up your arm, like static crackling under your skin. He pauses. Just for a second. And when he draws back, you swear you catch the flicker of his gaze sweeping over you before he looks away.

You can feel your pulse in your throat.

You should let it go. Should get back to work. But the words are out before you can stop them.

"You ever—" You hesitate, pulse hammering, but you push through. "You ever, I don’t know, choke somebody with your arms before?"

Daryl stops. Slowly, he turns his head toward you, eyes narrowing just slightly. His bicep shifts as he adjusts his grip on the tin in his hand. "The hell kinda question is that?"

Shiiiit. You fucked up.

But instead of retreating, you force yourself to keep looking at him, tilting your chin up just a little. "I just mean, you’re strong." A shrug, like it’s no big deal. "Bet you could hold somebody down real easy."

Silence.

Then, Daryl exhales through his nose, shaking his head. But there’s something in his expression—something flickering behind his eyes, sharp and considering.

He tosses the tin into your hands and mutters, "You’re weird." and walks away.

═════════════════════════

Back at the prison, dinner is quiet, the usual hum of conversation mixed with the occasional scrape of utensils against tin plates. Most people are too tired to talk much, a day of tending to the gardens, cleaning out cell blocks and keeping walkers at bay making everyone look forward to the slower evenings. The air in the hall feels thick with the kind of exhaustion that settles deep, making everything feel slow, heavy.

You should be eating, but your stomach isn’t interested.

Because Daryl’s staring at you.

You haven’t looked at him, not really since you got back, but you can feel it. That steady weight from across the room, the burning of your ears, it makes it almost impossible to keep your stomach from doing somersaults.

You should’ve kept your mouth shut on the run. Should’ve swallowed the words down, let them die in your throat. But no—you had to go and say it. Maybe it was your stupid hormones, the way he seemed to speak to some primal part of you that evolution put in your dna, maybe it was just some stupid impulse you couldn’t control. Either way, it’s too late now.

Not like it meant anything.

Except, if it didn’t, why was he still looking at you?

Your fingers tighten around your fork, but you don’t move to take another bite. Instead, you stare at the food on your plate, willing yourself to focus on anything other than the way your face feels too warm, the way your pulse is pressing a little harder than it should.

Maggie shifts in her seat, nudging Beth’s arm. “You good?”

You blink, glance up. Beth tilts her head, studying you, while Maggie smirks like she already knows something you don’t.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost today or somethin’,” Maggie says, “The run go that bad?”

“N-no,” you stammer, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, “It went fine. Got a lotta good stuff, actually.”

Maggie hums, unconvinced, and you watch as her eyes flicker behind you when she says, looking back at her plate, “Looks like someone’s got a little crush.”

The fork slips from your fingers, clattering against the plate, “I do not!”

But your reaction is what does it– it’s too sharp, too defensive. Beth startles a little, but Maggie just stares, slow realization spreading across her face as you lock eyes with her.

“I was only kiddin’." she says incredulously, "I meant the grouchy archer sittin' across the room, he keeps starin’ atcha.” she shakes her head, eyes lighting up. “But I see I’ve been mistaken.” She leans in. “You like Daryl?”

Your stomach drops.

Beth gasps, slapping Maggie’s arm. “Oh my god.”

Your face is on fire. “I don’t—”

Maggie grins. “Holy shit, you totally do.”

Beth’s trying to stifle a giggle. You shake your head fast, like that’ll help, like it’ll undo the last five seconds, but it only makes Maggie look even more certain. You can feel the walls closing in, feel their eyes on you, but worse—you can still feel his.

It’s too much. You push your plate away and mutter a quiet, “Not hungry anymore,” before standing and heading for the stairs, their laughter echoing behind you.

You don’t look back, because if you were to turn around and find those ocean blue eyes still on you, it would be your undoing.

═════════════════════════

The book in your hands is old, pages yellowed and brittle at the edges, the spine cracked so deep you have to be careful when you turn the pages. You’re not even sure what it’s about. Something about a man lost at sea. Maybe.

You’ve been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes.

It’s not that it’s boring. It’s just that your mind refuses to focus.

You shift on your cot, tugging the blanket over your lap, trying again, but it’s useless. Your brain keeps circling back, over and over, to dinner. To Maggie’s knowing grin, Beth’s giggles, and—worst of all—Daryl.

You squeeze your eyes shut, exhaling sharply. You should’ve never said anything. Should’ve kept that stupid thought locked away where it belonged.

A quiet scuff of boots outside your cell makes your stomach jolt. There’s a pause, then a hesitant knock against the frame of your open door. Not loud or rushed, more like a question.

You look up.

Daryl stands in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets, head slightly ducked. His shoulders are hunched, like he’s already thinking about leaving before he’s even fully stepped inside.

For a moment, neither of you say anything.

Then, he clears his throat. “Didn’t know ya read.”

You blink. It’s such a small thing to say, but something about the way he says it, like he’s searching for an easy way in, trying to settle into the conversation, makes your stomach tighten.

You glance at the book in your lap. “Yeah. Helps pass the time.”

Daryl nods, his eyes flicking around the small space of your cell, like he’s looking for something else to comment on, something to delay whatever it is he actually came here for. Between your haphazardly taped posters and handmade streamers, he doesn’t find anything, so instead, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, exhales through his nose, then finally says:

“That thing you asked me.”

Your stomach drops. Of course. You should’ve known that was why he was here.

Your fingers tighten around the book, but you shake your head quickly. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry if I made you–”

“You think I can?” he asks, huffing.

You frown. “Think you can what?”

His jaw tenses, and when he speaks again, it’s lower. Almost cautious. “Forget it.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He shrugs, but it’s not casual. It’s forced. “Ain’t exactly somethin’ you just let go of.”

Your chest feels too tight all of a sudden. You can’t quite place the look on his face—something careful, something guarded, like he’s trying not to let on that it’s been sitting in the back of his head since you said it. What went through his mind when you asked him?

You shift on your cot, swallowing. “Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

His gaze flickers, just barely. “Yeah?”

You nod, but something in the way he’s looking at you makes your throat dry out. He still doesn’t seem convinced.

“You think that’s what I am?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge there, frustration starting to rise in his voice. “Some kinda animal? The kind of man who would kill someone with–” he shakes his head slightly, jaw clenching. “You think I’m like that?”

The realization hits you hard. Your stomach twists. “Daryl, no,” you say quickly, sitting up straighter. “That’s not—”

He shakes his head again, looking at the floor. “Wouldn’t blame ya.”

Your heart kicks against your ribs. “That’s not what I meant.”

Daryl exhales, folding his arms over his chest, still avoiding your eyes. “Then what did you mean?”

You hesitate. Because now he’s looking at you. Not guarded, not distant—just waiting.

Your fingers press into the book in your lap. This is your chance to brush it off. Laugh it away. But you can already feel the heat creeping up your face, and Daryl is still standing there, still waiting, and if you don’t say it now, he’s just going to keep thinking the worst.

You shift slightly. “I meant…” Your throat feels tight. “I meant in bed.”

Daryl blinks.

His whole body stiffens, like his brain short-circuited, like the words hit him sideways and he can’t quite recover. His face is already turning red, slow at first, then creeping all the way up to his ears.

Your own face burns, and you clear your throat, pushing through the embarrassment. “I meant—if you’d ever choked someone in bed. With your arms.”

A silence falls over the room. A long, unbearable silence.

Daryl shifts, dragging a hand over his mouth. He scratches the back of his head, looks anywhere but at you.

Finally, he exhales, mutters, “Jesus,” under his breath, then huffs out a quiet, almost nervous laugh.

Your stomach clenches. “I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s—uh. That’s what ya meant?”

You nod quickly, still burning. “Yeah.”

Daryl looks at you for a second. His fingers flex slightly at his sides, like he’s thinking too hard about where to put them.

Then, after a long pause—his voice comes out quieter.

“You’d want me to?”

Your stomach drops.

Your eyes snap to his. “What?”

Daryl shrugs, but it’s forced, like he’s trying to play off how red his face still is. “I dunno. Just—” His mouth twitches slightly, like he can’t believe he’s even saying this. “Sounded like somethin’ you were real curious about.”

Your breath catches.

He’s not teasing, not quite—but there’s something in the way he says it, something light, something almost amused. Like he’s surprised at himself, surprised at you, but now that he’s said it, he’s not taking it back.

Your mouth opens, then closes again. Your hands are way too warm.

“I wouldn’t—” you swallow. “I wouldn’t not want you to.”

Daryl huffs out another soft laugh, shaking his head, glancing toward the hall like he’s wondering how the hell this conversation ended up here.

Then he looks back at you, eyes a little sharper now, lips twitching.

The heat in your face flares as he just chuckles under his breath, rubbing at his jaw before he steps back toward the door.

“Get some sleep,” he says, still smirking.

He turns, but not before you catch it—just the slightest flicker of something in his expression.

Something knowing. Something interested.

And when he finally walks away, you can’t do anything except stare at the empty doorway and try to remember how to breathe.

═════════════════════════

The past week has been unbearable.

It’s not like anything has happened, not really. No one has said anything, no lines have been crossed, but the air between you and Daryl hasn’t been the same since that night in your cell.

It’s in the way his eyes catch on you more often now. The way he lingers a little too long before walking away. The way your skin prickles when he’s nearby, too aware of the space he takes up, too aware of how small you feel in comparison.

And now, you’re on another run together.

“Last one went well,” Rick had said, shoving packs toward both of you. “Might as well stick with what works.”

The drive into town is quiet. Neither of you talk much, just like last time, but it’s not the same. There’s a different kind of weight, and you’re grateful that the open road on the motorcycle leaves little conversation to be said over its echoing roar.

When you finally reach an old pharmacy on the outskirts, the sun is starting to climb higher in the sky, heat burning your neck and the pavement glimmering.

Inside, dust clings to everything, thick in the air. It smells stale, like old paper and time left to rot. Shelves are overturned, bottles and boxes scattered across the floor.

You do your job, scanning for anything useful, but your focus keeps slipping.

Because every time you glance up, Daryl is there.

He’s not doing anything different. Not saying anything. Just moving through the space like he always does—quiet, efficient. But somehow, it feels like every single movement is deliberate. Like every shift of muscle under his skin is something you shouldn’t be watching, but you are.

The dust-covered counter at the back of the building gives you something to focus on, something to do besides thinking about the weight of Daryl’s gaze. You hop over the counter and crouch down, scanning the lowest shelf, rifling through half-empty boxes of medication, checking for anything still worth taking back.

A prickle of awareness crawls up the back of your neck.

It’s not the usual kind of awareness you get on a run, not the instinct that tells you someone—or something— dangerous is lurking nearby. It’s different. Warmer. Closer.

When you stand, a bottle of pills in your hand, you nearly jump out of your skin.

Daryl is right there, barely a foot away, standing between you and the only way out.

Your breath stutters. He doesn’t usually get this close without reason.

He’s blocking the exit, but it doesn’t feel like he’s trapping you—it feels like he’s stopping himself from walking away. His weight shifts between his feet, his arms twitch like they want to cross, but he doesn’t move, just watches you with something unreadable in his eyes.

Your fingers tighten around the bottle in your hand. “Wha—what’s up?”

Daryl doesn’t answer at first. He just looks at you, quiet and considering, something simmering beneath the surface. His teeth catch against the corner of his lip for a second, his fingers flex at his sides, but it’s like he still hasn’t worked out how to say whatever it is that’s sitting heavy on his chest.

Then he exhales through his nose and mutters, “Can’t stop thinkin’.”

His voice is rough, like the words have been stuck in his throat all day.

Your pulse jumps. “Thinking... about what?”

He shifts again on uneven footing, glancing toward the counter before dragging his gaze back to you. The moment stretches, thick enough to smother, before he finally speaks again.

“Since last time,” he mutters, voice quieter now. Your stomach flips. He shakes his head, almost to himself. “You got me all fucked up, girl.”

It’s not frustration, not really—it’s more like exhaustion, like he’s tired of pretending that something between you hasn’t changed. And when he steps forward, closing the last bit of space between you, your body reacts before your brain catches up.

Your back hits the wall behind you.

The old metal shelving is cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off him. He’s so close now, close enough that you catch the faint scent of pine and sweat clinging to him, close enough that every nerve in your body locks up, unsure whether to tense or melt.

His arms come up, hands bracing against the metal on either side of you, and suddenly you can’t look anywhere but at him.

Your breath feels too shallow.

Daryl dips his head slightly, breath warm against your cheek, and you hear the way he inhales, slow and deep, smelling the remnants of the apple shampoo you used days ago.

“S’not like I haven’t thought of ya before.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and your lips part, but you don’t know what to say. You can barely think straight with him this close, his voice this low. He smells of musk and leather and summer sunshine, something distinctly masculine and Daryl all at once. His words sink in, heavy and real, and before you can even process them, he huffs a quiet breath, shaking his head against the side of yours.

“Thought of ya a lot, actually.”

Your stomach twists, heat flaring under your skin.

Daryl pulls back just enough to look at you, and that’s when you see it—the way his pupils are blown, the way his breath comes slow and measured like he’s still holding something back. His jaw is tight, his fingers flex slightly against the metal, and you don’t know whether he’s waiting for permission or for you to push him away.

“Say somethin’,” he murmurs, voice rough like gravel in your ears. “Please.”

You reach up then, your hand trembling slightly as your fingers brush along his jaw, skimming over the uneven scruff growing in patches on his face. He exhales, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you trace up along his cheekbone, down the side of his neck, feeling the tension there, the way his pulse beats strong beneath your fingertips.

“I think of you a lot too,” you finally manage to say, and it’s barely louder than a whisper.

His eyes open, still blown wide as they flicker between yours, then drop to your lips. His breath is slow, measured, like he’s forcing himself to hold back.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe. It’s more than just a response—it’s permission, it’s consent, letting him know that whatever he’s thinking, whatever’s been running through his mind, you want it too.

And like you’ve just cut the cord that’s been wound too tight between you, he pushes forward, his lips crashing into yours with urgency.

You’re surprised just how soft his lips are, how gentle he tries to be, but the way he moves is anything but hesitant. There’s no testing, no waiting—he’s done holding back, done second-guessing. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it, like it’s something he’s wanted for too damn long, and you can’t help but act in equal fervor.

Your fingers tighten against his jaw, then slide up into his hair, gripping, pulling. He groans into your mouth, the sound low, wrecked, sending a sharp pulse of heat straight through you. His hands move without restraint now, gripping at your waist, fingers pressing into your hips, pulling you closer like the space between you is unbearable.

You barely register the sharp clatter of bottles knocked from the shelves as your back presses harder against the metal. Daryl doesn’t seem to care. If anything, the mess spurs him on, makes him more reckless, more desperate.

He kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your legs weak, makes your stomach tighten. He’s breathing hard, fingers digging into your sides, body pressing fully into you now, until there’s nothing between you but heat and friction.

His lips drag from your mouth down to your jaw, then lower, his breath hot as he murmurs against your skin. “Been losin’ my mind over you all damn week.” His teeth catch on the pulse in your neck, not biting, just grazing, making you shudder. “Longer than that, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your nails bite into his shoulders as he kisses lower, pressing into the spot just beneath your jaw, the one that makes your breath hitch. His hands are everywhere—roaming, gripping, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips brush against bare skin, warm and rough, and you arch into his touch without thinking.

“Daryl…”

He groans at the way you say his name, a quiet, broken sound that sends a deep shudder through his body. He presses his forehead against yours for a second, breath ragged, like he’s trying to steady himself but failing. Then his hands tighten on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter of the pharmacy.

You gasp softly, but he’s already between your legs, already pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies unbearable. His lips are on yours again, claiming, devouring, his hands moving up your thighs, squeezing, gripping like he can’t get enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you kiss him harder, the urgency between you growing into something more frantic, more consuming. His hands slide beneath your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, and you shiver as his palms drag over your ribs, rough and warm.

His mouth leaves yours just long enough to mutter against your skin, voice thick with something wild, something unraveling. “You sure about this?”

Your only answer is to pull him back in, crashing your lips to his, fingers fisting in his shirt as you tug him closer, needing him, needing more.

That’s all he needs. His shirt is gone in the next instant with yours following suit, and the moment the fabric is over your head, his lips are on you again, everywhere. You arch into his touch, heat rolling through you as his mouth works down your neck, trailing over your collarbone, then lower. Each kiss leaves behind something electric, something you feel everywhere, and when he drags lower still, down onto your bare chest, his lips and teeth and tongue worship everywhere but where you want him most.

Your breath hitches, your hands restless, gripping at his arms, his shoulders, his hair—anywhere you can reach, anywhere you can pull him closer. He’s between your legs now, his body solid, burning against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, fingers flexing like he’s holding himself back.

You look down at him, ready to beg, but the sight of him wrecks you.

Daryl between your legs, his lips on your skin, mouth open, breath warm as he stares at you like he’s never seen anything like you before.

Any coherent thought vanishes the moment his lips close around your nipple.

A breathless moan leaves your lips as his tongue flicks over it, hot and slow, sending a deep ache curling low in your stomach. His rough fingers knead your other breast, rolling and pinching your sensitive skin in just the right way, his touch deliberate, like he’s learning you, like he’s memorizing every reaction.

You arch into him, pressing closer, needing more, but he keeps the pace slow, like he’s savoring every second, like he wants to soak in every feel of your body against his.

His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, lips tugging gently before he soothes it with another slow flick, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His other hand stays firm on your breast, rolling, kneading, fingers rough with callouses as he works you over with slow, steady intent. It’s almost too much, yet not enough, and you feel yourself tilting between the two sensations, every nerve in your body locked onto the way he’s touching you, kissing you, like he never wants to stop.

You’re barely aware of your own sounds, the quiet gasps, the soft moans, the way your hands dig into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, needing him closer. His mouth moves lower, lips dragging down your stomach, his hands sliding along your sides, gripping your waist like he’s grounding himself.

Then, just when you think he’s going to keep going, he stops.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, chest rising and falling, lips slick and parted. His hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs brushing slow over your skin, and he swallows, throat bobbing as he exhales through his nose.

“Turn around,” he murmurs, voice wrecked, thick with something dark, something unfiltered.

Your breath catches.

You do as he says, shifting, dropping your feet to the floor and gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself as you twist in his hold. The air feels even thicker now, hotter, your pulse hammering as his hands slide over your hips, guiding you exactly where he wants you.

His palms press firm against your lower back, tracing down to your waist before his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants. There’s no rush in the way he tugs them down, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every new inch of skin he reveals. The scrape of fabric against your thighs sends a shiver rolling through you, and when they finally pool at your ankles, his hands smooth back up, gripping, kneading, pulling you back into him.

A sharp inhale leaves your lips when you feel him press against you, his breath warm at the curve of your neck. His fingers flex at your hips, gripping tight, like he’s still trying to hold himself back, like he’s at war with the need running through him.

“Goddamn,” he mutters under his breath.

You don’t have time to respond before his lips are on your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin, hands gripping you tighter, pulling you flush against him. The heat of him seeps through you, burning into your skin, your body molding against his like you were always meant to fit there.

Then, slowly, his hand slides up.

You barely register the shift before the weight of his arm is curling around your neck, firm but careful, forearm bracing across your throat, holding you in place. The solid strength of his muscles—it’s everything you imagined, everything you tried so hard to ignore when the thought first crossed your mind.

A low, rough chuckle rumbles against your ear.

“This what you wanted, ain’t it?” His voice is gravel, wrecked, thick with something primal as his breath ghosts along your jaw. His hold tightens just slightly, just enough to make you shudder. “My arm around this pretty neck?”

His words send a shudder through you, pooling heat low in your stomach as your hands grip the counter harder. His arm is thick around your neck, a steady weight that makes you dizzy with want, and when he tightens it just slightly, enough to make you feel it, a whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Yes,” you breathe, voice barely there.

Daryl stills for half a second like he wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily. Then he makes a noise low in his throat, something rough, something wrecked, and his grip on you tightens.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice thick, warm, almost tender in contrast to how strong he feels behind you. His nose brushes against your jaw, his lips grazing over your pulse as his other hand trails lower, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your hip. “What a sweet thing you are”

The praise sends a jolt through you, your breath catching, fingers twitching against the counter as he shifts behind you. Then you hear it, a belt coming loose and buckle clattering to the floor with the jeans he was wearing and suddenly you feel him– heavy and thick as he nudges against you, the heat of it pressing right against your slick entrance.

Your whole body tenses, then melts, nails digging into his arm where it rests against your throat.

Daryl lets out a slow, shuddering breath, nipping lightly at the edge of your ear before murmuring, “Christ, barely touched you and you’re all wet. This all for me?” His hips press forward again, slow, teasing, and you let out a quiet whimper, pushing back into him without thinking. His cock notches into you then, and you both let out a sudden gasp.

“That’s it,” he praises, lips pressing against the shell of your ear, his voice low and soothing and coaxing as his cock sinks deeper into you. “You’re so damn good. Feels good, don’t it?”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk like this before, soft and filthy all at once, like he’s pouring everything he has into the way he touches you, the way he holds you. You nod, swallowing hard. “So good, Daryl.”

His breath turns heavier, warmer against your skin as he pulls you back onto him, slow and steady, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself inside you. His grip tightens at your hip, steadying you, holding you exactly where he wants you, but the real weight—the one that sends a full-body shudder through you—is his arm, still firm around your neck. You back arches against him, leaning into the muscles of his forearm as he holds you into the crook of his elbow.

“There you go,” he rasps, his voice strained, wrecked. His hips rock forward again, sinking deeper, stretching you, and a ragged moan slips from your lips. His grip flexes, and he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, lips warm, tongue flicking against your pulse before he nips at it, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Knew you’d take me so good.”

Your nails dig harder into his arm, fingers curling around his wrist where he holds you, your breath hitching as he starts to move. Slow at first, testing, drawing himself out before pushing back in, each roll of his hips deliberate, each thrust pressing deeper, setting a rhythm that already has you unraveling.

His arm around your neck tightens, just slightly, just enough to make your next breath stutter, to make the heat between your legs coil tighter. His breath is hot against your ear, rough and ragged, the tension in his body coiled so tight you can feel it thrumming through his chest, through the arm braced around your throat.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, his voice raw, nearly pained as he rocks into you. "You don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me."

His hips move with slow precision at first, teasing, working you open, dragging out every sensation like he wants you to feel him, to know that he’s the one making you come apart like this. His fingers dig into your hip, pulling you back onto him, the blunt head of his cock pressing deep with every thrust.

"Been thinkin’ about this," he murmurs, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "Bout how tight you’d feel, how fuckin’ perfect you’d take me. You feel that, baby?" He drives into you harder then, pushing you flush against the counter, stealing your breath with the sheer force of it. "Feels better than I ever imagined."

Your nails claw at his arm, breath ragged as his grip tightens just slightly around your neck, just enough to hold you there, to keep you at his mercy. His hips snap into you then, harder and faster now that you’ve adjusted to the sheer stretch of his cock.

"Shit," he groans, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw, sucking at the delicate skin before biting down, his voice going strained. "You like this, don’t ya? Bein’ held like this? Wrapped up in me, nowhere to go."

You whimper, pushing back into him, chasing the heat, the pressure, the way he’s unraveling you piece by piece.

His free hand slides down, dipping between your legs, his fingers finding you slick and swollen, rubbing slow, purposeful circles that make your knees shake.

"Fuck, look at you," he mutters, pressing his forehead to the side of your head, his breath coming harder now. "Gettin’ all worked up, takin’ it so damn well." His fingers flick over your clit, pressing just right, and you let out a broken moan. "That’s it, baby. Let me hear you. Been dreamin’ ‘bout these sounds."

His thrusts grow rougher, deeper, and the tension in your belly coils tight, too tight, everything building.

Daryl feels it.

"Yeah," he breathes, his voice shaking now, wrecked with how good you feel around him. "I know, sweetheart. Feels like your body’s beggin’ for it, huh?" His lips drag over your jaw, his hips pounding into you now, chasing that high. "Wanna cum all over me, don’t ya?"

The coil snaps at his words, white-hot and blinding as his arm tightens, stealing the breath from you completely. Your entire body goes taut as pleasure crashes over you, so sharp and overwhelming as your lungs scream for air. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing tight, and Daryl groans deep in his chest, his rhythm going sloppy, erratic.

"Shit, you’re milkin’ me, baby," he groans, his fingers moving to grip your hips, "Goddamn, you feel like fuckin’ heaven."

He holds you, hips pinning you against the counter as he buries himself deep, shuddering against you as he spills inside you.

His hold around your neck finally eases, his hand smoothing over your collarbone, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses against the side of your neck as both of you come down together.

"You alright?" His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges, but there’s something tender in it, something real.

You exhale shakily, your body still humming from the aftershocks, a slow, blissed-out smile creeping across your lips. "Yeah. That was… that was so hot."

Daryl huffs out a small, breathless laugh, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your neck. His hands keep roaming, slow and absentminded, smoothing over your waist, tracing lazy circles along your hips, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

"Yeah?" He nuzzles into your shoulder, his lips grazing your damp skin. "Ain’t never tried it before." His voice is warm, a little smug, but softer than before, like he’s still coming down from it too.

You hum, stretching slightly against him, still pressed chest to back. "Me neither. Somethin’ about you, Dixon."

Daryl makes a sound deep in his throat, something pleased, something almost knowing. His fingers tighten just slightly at your hip, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw before he murmurs, "Ain’t gonna be the last time, neither."

“Promise?” you chuckle, turning in his arms to snake your hands around his neck.

Daryl smirks, slow and lazy, his breath warm against your skin as he tilts his head, letting your fingers slip into his hair. His hands slide lower, resting at the curve of your back, holding you against him like he has no intention of letting go.

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice rough but sure. "Promise."

His lips find yours again, softer this time, slower, like he’s savoring it, like he’s already thinking about the next time, about how he’ll take his time with you, about all the things he wants to do.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl one shot #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #daryl x reader smut

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ipushhimback · 18 hours ago

Text

Hugs?

pairing: lando norris x reader words: ig around 500? warinings: periods?

summary: you wake up with cramps and your boyfriend comforts you <3

You woke up in the morning feeling like crap. Your whole body was aching and even just the thought about moving just a little made it hurt even more.

Lando was still softly snoring next to you with his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your neck. You gently moved his arm from your waist as the pain was just intensifying with the pressure. Your boyfriend scrunched his face but didn’t wake up. Luckily.

You didn’t need him to wake up to you being on your period the first time he stayed over at yours. You knew how unbearable you could become when you were in pain and your hormones were all over the place.

But only a few minutes later you could feel Lando stir next to you as he stretched himself and rubbed his eyes before opening them and looking at you with so much love in them you thought you would melt in a puddle right now.

“Hey, darling. How long have you been awake?”, he asked with a sleepy smile on his face.

“Not long. Maybe ten minutes or so. You slept well?”, you asked as you pressed a kiss to Lando’s lips.

“Yeah. Your bed is comfy. Or maybe I just like having you next to me. You ok? You look a little pale”, Lando said while he furrowed his brow in worry.

“All good, Lan. Just tired”, you tried to reassure him though you could see that your boyfriend didn’t believe you.

The next moment you couldn’t pretend to be fine anymore as a sharp wave of pain rolled through you, making you swear under your breath. “Fuck.”

“You are absolutely not ok. Is it your period?”, Lando asked and you just stared at him perplexed. “I have sisters. No pretending here. I did it all. Doing hot water bottles. Going to the store to get chocolate or whatever cravings they had. Buying pads in the middle of the night. Seriously, just be honest. Is it bad?”

You couldn’t help but nod as you felt your eyes well up with tears by how sweet your boyfriend was.

“You want a heating pad? Hot chocolate? Painkillers? Hugs?”, Lando asked again and you nodded while the tears started falling.

“Oh, baby. No crying, ok?”, Lando said as he wiped the tears from his your cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute”, he continued as he got up.

As promised, he returned only a little later, having a heating pad, painkillers, water, and a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. He placed it all in front of you and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you again. You leaned your head on his chest and let yourself just be held.

Lando leaned forward a little and grabbed the painkillers that he then held out to you.

“Here. They’ll help.” He grabbed that water bottle as well and opened the lid.

You took a sip and placed the bottle back on the table to swap it with the hot chocolate.

“I hate seeing you in pain”, Lando said as he kissed the top of your head.

“Well, I hate being in pain”, you said chuckling a little. “But thanks for being here. For taking care of me. I was scared you might be grossed out”, you admitted.

“Grossed out? Never. You are amazing and I won’t leave over something so small. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Lan.”

a/n: something short bc i am planning to write something else but don’t have any inspiration… also, i think all of us deserve a lando in our life who makes us hot chocolate

tags: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n

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helaintoloki · 6 months ago

Note

hi can you do a ben hargreeves angst where klaus is still able to see him in season 3 and he sees how close y/n has gotten to ben sparrow you can do whatever you want with it

warnings: language, lots of angst

notes: okay i actually loved writing this you are a genius for coming up with this scenario

summary: Ben is forced to watch you fall for a completely different version of him

Ben once thought having to watch the woman you love live her life without knowing you looked on as a spirit incapable of communicating with her was the worst fate imaginable.

But he was wrong.

Watching the woman you love grow close to another version of you while you can do absolutely nothing to interfere was more torturous than any other possible outcome.

Ben absolutely loathed the Sparrow with his entire being. He couldn’t understand why you would even consider trying to get to know the man- he was a complete jerk, absolutely hostile, and not at all understanding or compassionate to the dilemma your team found yourselves in. Ben also thought his haircut was stupid, and the Sparrow’s demeanor gave the ghost a sense of second-hand embarrassment every time he talked.

And yet you were drawn to the man like a magnet, and how could you not be? He looked and sounded exactly like what you imagined your Ben would have if he had survived the accident and been able to grown into an adult alongside you. Despite his callousness and his blatant lack of trust in you, you were eager to learn more. Did he like the same things your Ben did? Did they share the same interests? Were their mannerisms the same? You desperately needed to know, and the Sparrow did not deny you this. Though he held a certain sense of disdain for your team, he wasn’t prideful enough to turn down the company of a pretty girl who seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy. He took advantage of your kindness and your vulnerability, and your Ben hated that he could do absolutely nothing to stop this.

You sit on a lone bench and watch as the Sparrow completes his workout for the day. He’s allowed you to tag along so long as you don’t get in the way, and you agreed. You’re completely mesmerized by his toned arms and grunts of effort that escape his lips as he lifts weights, and Ben can only roll his eyes.

“Seriously? This guy?” He asks you in exasperation, but of course, you don’t hear him at all. This doesn’t deter him from continuing his attempt to persuade you to stay away from the Sparrow. “You are way too good for an asshole like him. He’s just using you to feed his ego!”

“Do you like to read?” You ask the man as he sets down his weights and reaches for his towel to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

“Read?” He retorts haughtily, almost offended by the notion. “What am I, a nerd?”

Ben knows neither of you can see him, and yet he flips the man off anyway in response to his answer. Your shoulders visibly deflate at his words, and the ghost can only frown and attempt to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. It goes right through you, the coldness prompting you to shiver involuntarily, but it makes him feel better to know you can at least sense him in some way.

“My Ben liked reading, so I just thought maybe you would too,” you offer meekly, prompting the Sparrow to roll his eyes.

“Alright, new rule. You wanna hangout with me? Then don’t bring up ‘your’ Ben. Got it?”

“Right, sorry,” you murmur quietly while awkwardly fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. You hover over the one on your index, the purple gem gleaming in the light. Ben knows that ring because he gave you that ring, and that’s why it nearly kills him all over again when he watches you hurriedly remove it and hide it away in the pocket of your sweater.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for being you,” he gently reprimands you with a sigh before focusing his harsh gaze on his lookalike. “And you should stop being a dick to quite possibly the nicest girl you’ll ever meet. You don’t deserve her, and I’ll never understand why the universe decided you should get to have her.”

Of course, his lecture is unheard and has no impact on the scene that unfolds before him. He watches in gut wrenching agony as the Sparrow seats himself beside you on the bench, his rough hand coming to rest gently upon your thigh and squeezing to get your attention. Your eyes almost seem to sparkle as you look up at him in search of validation for your efforts to get to know him. There’s a shift in the air that fills Ben with dread, and despite all his efforts to stop it he can do nothing to prevent your lips from meeting the man’s in a purposeful kiss.

Your heart flutters in your chest as the Sparrow pulls away and carefully tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice coming out in a soft whisper as he says, “You’re with me now. Forget about him.”

And to Ben’s absolute horror, you obediently offer a silent nod in agreement to his command.

#request #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #sparrow!ben #sparrow!ben x reader #sparrow!ben imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine

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theorphicangel · 1 year ago

Text

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: miguel being whipped for his s/o after sex :)

tags: suggestive, 18+, aftercare, soft Miguel, fluffy

panting, you lay your head back on the pillow, thighs still shaking as you come down from your high.

a whimper leaves your throat once you feel Miguel pull out, leaving behind a sore feeling of emptiness within you.

He’s quick to clean you up. tissues on the bedside table as well as two bottles of water. The way you like them, fresh and cold. his chest rises and falls heavily as sweat forms at his brow. strays of his coffee-brown locks sticking to his forehead.

He gently wipes at your inner thigh. your hand is still positioned on his shoulder, feeling his muscles flex with every move he makes.

Miguel leaves a tender kiss on your arm. “you did so good for me, mi amor.”He hands you a bottle, removing the cap before giving it to you.

you take a few small sips before gesturing the bottle back to him. He stares, unimpressed.

“a little more.”

you obey, reluctantly, sipping until the bottle is less than half full. Miguel takes your bottle and fastens the cap. And before you know it, he’s laying on your chest underneath the covers with you.

“ugh, you’re so heavy.” your hand immediately reaches for his hair, an automatic habit.

“mhm, you tired me out tonight.”

you fake a gasp, fingers running softly through his hair. “I tired out the miguel o’hara?”

you feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles softly. “don’t tell anyone, it could ruin my reputation.”

“cross my heart and swear to die.” you say as you mark an x on your chest.

the two of you bask in a comfortable silence, a natural hum heard in the room. you continue to play with his hair, fingertips lost in his locks before you notice a pair of eyes staring.

“what?” you whisper.

Miguel continues to stare at you, unresponsive. letting silence become his answer for a few moments before speaking.

“you’re glowing, nena.”

“Am I?” you chuckle softly, slightly shy at his eyes glued onto your face. you always caught him looking at you like that, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. it didn’t matter if you had just woken up or returned from work after a busy and stressful day, or if you had walked out in a simple tee and jeans.

he alwayed seemed to look at you with a starstruck look in his eyes.

And that is the very look he had now.

A smile slips onto his lips, his voice low. “Carajo, eres tan guapa.” [fuck, you’re so beautiful]

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious, nena.” and his tone exemplifies that too. his eyes search all over your face. “¿Cómo tuve tanta suerte?” [how was I so lucky?]

“dunno’,” your hand trails down to his cheek, caressing his skin. he’s glowing too, you think. “How did I get lucky with you?”

“maybe it was fate.” he whispers, his eyes falling to your lips.

“maybe it was.” Miguel murmurs, inching closer to you. Simultaneously, you pull him towards you, your hand still on his cheek.

The moment your lips meet, a spark is lighted within you again. you can tell he’s being gentle, making sure not to place his body weight entirely on you.

when you finally part, a rush of adrenaline runs through your body once more. a heat emerging between your thighs for an nth time.

“you think you still got enough energy for one more round, o’hara?”

“always for you, my love.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

#angel writes #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #atsv headcanons #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

Text

Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is.

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away The blues walked in and met me Oh, yeah if he stays away Old rocking chair’s gonna get me All I do is pray...’

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you.

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones.

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent.

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue.

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight.

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line.

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized.

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides.

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive.

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang.

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness.

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here.

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward.

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?”

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily.

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top.

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America.

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses.

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly.

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm.

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.”

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place.

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right?

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs.

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?”

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.”

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow.

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?”

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.”

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint.

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?”

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek.

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl.

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.”

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?”

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction.

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.”

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him.

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.”

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers.

“Sure, it’s three.”

“Number?”

“310.”

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign.

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him.

“It’s unlocked,” you say.

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table.

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly.

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through.

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.”

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.”

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you.

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath.

“You okay?” He turns the question on you.

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile.

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance.

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...”

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.”

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.”

“Right,” you work more diligently.

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity.

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?”

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are.

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial.

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?”

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach.

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut.

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.”

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand.

“You must be pretty far along,” he says.

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.”

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?”

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.”

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack.

“So, you want some?” You ask.

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.”

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.”

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--”

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say.

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.”

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.”

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...”

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods.

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #roads untraveled #silverfox au #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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wherethefireliliesgrow · 6 months ago

Text

Birds of a Feather

Pham Hanni x F reader

GENRE: fluff, slight angst

TAGS: college love, friends to lovers

TYPE: One Shot

Inspired by: Birds of a Feather - Billie Eilish

A jump and rustle in your bed woke you up with a start. Your heart raced at the shock and possibility of an intruder. But before you could turn on the lights, the familiar smell of citrus and raspberries filled the air. It was your best friend and flatmate, Hanni.

She had flopped face-first onto your pillow next to you, her annoyed groan slightly muffled. Your heart thumped loudly at the close proximity of her skin next to yours, but you quickly rubbed your eyes, trying to wipe away the drowsiness and the tingling feeling in your chest.

“What the hell, Pham?” you muttered, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. “Why are you in my room at 3 in the morning?”

She merely pushed her face deeper into your pillow and inhaled, sighing in defeat.

Hanni was many things—she may be a tiny little thing, but she was insanely loud, vibrant, and expressive. So her silence meant something was seriously wrong. That was when you remembered she had left last night for a date with another boy from her major. She had been so excited, but it seemed the date did not go well. You secretly cheered at the thought of her not falling for another guy, but guilt quickly followed. Your friend was here, wallowing in misery, and all you could think about was your own feelings.

“I take it the date with Jun didn’t go well?” you softly asked, reaching over to stroke her raven-black hair.

Finally deciding to answer, she turned around and buried her face in your neck, her small body curling toward your warmth. You wrapped your arm around her and pulled her close, soothing her like you had since you met in freshman year. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle, or birds of a feather.

“It was… okay,” she muttered defeatedly.

“Then what’s wrong? I thought you liked him.”

Hanni let out another sigh, her cool breath brushing against your neck and sending shivers through your body.

“I thought he was cute. But it just doesn’t feel right. There’s no connection, no spark.”

“Don’t force it if it doesn’t feel right,” you said, rubbing her arm soothingly.

“But when will it ever feel right?” Her voice raised slightly, a hint of tears in her eyes.

“I’ve been on at least twenty dates in the past few months, and none of them ever feel right. I’m so tired of this. Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe no one would ever like me.”

Your heart twinged at hearing Hanni say this. It pained you to see such a wonderful and sweet girl doubt herself so much, beaten down by all the failed dates and rejections.

“Don’t say that, Hanni. From my time with you as your best friend and roommate, I can assure you that you are very lovable and one of the best people in the world. You deserve all the love you can find. Don’t ever let anyone else make you think otherwise.”

Hanni paused in silence at your words, and you started to sweat, worried that she had caught on to your feelings. The room was too dark for you to see her expression, but finally, she softly leaned her head toward you and pressed her lips on your cheek gently before drawing back.

“Thank you, Y/N, for being here, for being my best friend,” she whispered, before cuddling back into you.

Her breathing slowed, indicating that she had fallen asleep.

Your face burned where her lips had touched. You knew this was the closest thing to love you could get from her, but you were content with just being her friend.

The blow of the whistle echoed in the gymnasium, along with the roar from the crowd in the stands. Your volleyball team had managed to catch up to the competing team, head-to-head in the final round of the quarter-finals. Hanni knew her friends were talking about something, but her eyes stayed glued to you, watching you furrow your brows in concentration as you listened to your coach discuss the next game plan.

“If you stare any harder, your eyes are going to fall out,” Minji, one of her close friends and the class president, teased the shorter girl, nudging her gently out of her trance.

“Huh?” Hanni finally drew her eyes away from you and looked back to see her group of friends all looking at her with stupid, knowing grins on their faces.

“Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

“We were talking about when you were going to ask Y/N out,” Haerin drawled, her cat-like eyes glinting with mischief.

“What?” Hanni quickly shook her head, her heart pounding at the thought. “I don’t like Y/N.”

“If you say so,” Haerin snickered, enjoying watching her friend panic.

“Seriously, I’m not gay,” Hanni’s voice raised slightly, tinged with both anger and fear that they had caught on to her feelings.

“We know, Haerin was just joking,” Danielle quickly cut in. Ever so sweet and a ball of sunshine, she smoothly changed the subject to soothe Hanni’s nerves. “What do you guys want for dinner after?”

As the girls chattered around her, all Hanni could hear was her blood rushing in her ears. She wasn’t gay; she couldn’t be. She only dated boys, even if the dates were always disappointing. She just cared for you as a friend—a best friend. Yes, that must be it. She liked paying attention to you because that’s what a good friend should do. She tried to push the thoughts of how much she enjoyed your attention, how nice it felt to be in your arms, out of her head.

You leaped up high and struck the volleyball, the ball moving so fast that Hanni couldn’t see anything but a blur of white, followed by the sound of a slam and the referee’s whistle. The crowd roared in glee as your teammates all piled on top of you. You had made the final point and secured your school’s ticket to the finals.

Hanni jumped to her feet and screamed your name, waving a towel with your last name on it in celebration.

“Whipped,” Minji muttered to Haerin, and Hyein snickered. Danielle quickly turned around to shush the older girl, but was also grinning as they watched Hanni run from the stands and onto the court to congratulate you.

You caught her mid-jump and twirled her around, the number on your jersey catching the court light as it mirrored the one on Hanni’s body.

Ever since the girls mentioned the idea of Hanni having feelings for you, she tried her hardest to avoid having these allegations whenever you guys hung out in public. Hanni, who was always around, who always filled the room with her bright energy, began to drift away. She started to avoid you. It wasn’t immediate, but you noticed. It started with her not sitting next to you in classes, then she stopped responding to your texts as quickly as she used to. Eventually, she stopped joining in on Friday movie nights in the living room. She used to look forward to these so much.

You couldn't understand what had changed. Everything was fine until the game. The closeness you two shared, the comfort in each other's presence, was suddenly replaced by a wall that the shorter girl seemed determined to build. When you asked her if everything was okay, she’d shrug it off, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ve just been busy,” she’d say, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her honey-brown hues eyes. “Lots of assignments, you know?”

But you knew it wasn’t just assignments. The warmth that used to be in her voice when she talked to you had been replaced by something cold, something distant. She no longer confided you in her problems, no longer snuggled up towards you, and no longer wanted to spend time with you.

Your friends noticed too. Minji, Haerin, and Danielle would exchange glances when they saw the two of you together, the awkward tension between you crushing the room. They didn’t say anything directly, but their concern was evident in the way they tried to lighten the mood, filling the silence with jokes and stories. But it wasn’t the same.

One evening, after another failed attempt to talk to Hanni, you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong. Your chest felt heavy, like you were carrying around a weight that you couldn’t shake off. All you wanted was to understand, to know why she was pulling away. But Hanni kept her distance, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the growing ache in your heart. Did she somehow, figure out your feelings for her? Did the thought of you liking her make her withdraw in disgust?

The dreams of her haunted you once again.

A few week passed with little change. You decided to get some fresh air, clear your mind from the confusion that had been clouding it. Your shared flat was too quiet, and Hanni’s door was always shut, as if she wanted to keep you away from her as much as she could.

You went off campus, deciding to visit your cousin Jimin. She always knew how to help you make sense of things. As you sat in a small, cozy coffee shop, you poured your heart out to her, explaining how Hanni had changed, how you didn’t understand what had gone wrong.

Jimin listened patiently, her eyes full of empathy. “Maybe she’s going through something she doesn’t know how to talk about,” she suggested, placing her hand on yours in a comforting gesture.

Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had walked past the coffee shop at that very moment. She had heard you leave the dorm and decided to go for a walk herself.

Though she seemed nonchalant, the time away from you had taken a toll on her. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and she couldn't eat. All she wanted was to crawl back into your arms and apologize for pulling away. You must be so confused about the sudden distance. She was confused herself. She had finally come to terms with the fact that the reason all her relationships and dates had failed was that she had feelings for you all along. A part of her wanted to confess, but a bigger part had convinced herself that she could get through this silly crush on you if she just avoided you, that it was just a phase.

But maybe, just maybe, you liked her too. This thought lingered in her mind, fueled by her friends who kept insisting that you had feelings for her.

She promised herself she would talk to you soon.

As she walked through the town, the autumn chill made her pull her jacket tighter. She couldn’t help but think of the times you would take off your scarf and wrap it around her because she was too cold, or the way you’d laugh at her pink nose and buy her a cup of hot coffee.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, her heart sank as she saw you in a random coffee shop with another girl. The way the girl’s hand rested on yours twisted something painfully in her chest. She felt a sudden surge of jealousy, something she didn’t want to acknowledge. In her mind, she began to piece together a story that wasn’t true—that you had moved on, that you had found someone else, or that you never liked her in the first place.

After all, she was a girl who could never find love.

The rest of the day, Hanni couldn’t focus on anything. All she could think of was the pretty girl paying attention to everything you said, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked, and the sight of her hand in yours.

That night, Hanni took a pair of scissors and chopped her hair short, the long locks that you used to run your hands through falling to the floor. Snip after snip, she chopped off her hair the way you had broken her heart, piece by piece. She stared at herself in the mirror, her heart racing as she tried to convince herself that this was a fresh start, a way to move on from the confusing feelings she had for you.

The next day, when you saw Hanni with her new haircut, you were shocked. She looked different—fierce, determined, but there was something else behind her eyes, something that didn’t quite fit the image she was trying to project. You couldn’t help but wonder what had driven her to such a drastic change. She had always adored her long hair. Though you thought she looked just as good with short hair and choppy bangs, you thought she looked good in anything, to be honest.

“You cut your hair,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the surprise in your voice was evident.

“Yeah, felt like a change,” she replied curtly, not meeting your gaze.

“Why?”

“It’s really none of your business.” She snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw the hurt look on your face.

Hanni quickly grabbed her bag and left for her morning class, the one she had with you.

The tension between you both only grew thicker. The silence that used to be comfortable now felt suffocating. Days passed without much exchange until one evening, something snapped. Hanni had had a terrible day and overheard NingNing, her classmate, talking about considering asking you out since you seemed to be open to dating now.

You were in the kitchen, preparing a late dinner, when Hanni walked in, her expression hard to read.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Why would anything be wrong?” Hanni shot back, her tone sharper than you expected.

“I don’t know, Hanni. You’ve been acting strange, avoiding me. If I did something, can’t you just tell me?”

She clenched her fists, her breath quickening. “Maybe you should go ask the girl you were with at the coffee shop.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. “The coffee shop? What coffee shop? What girl?”

“The one by the train station.” Hanni rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to calm herself down. “Aren’t you dating her or something?”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth formed an O. You looked so stupid and adorable, and all Hanni wanted to do was punch you (or kiss you).

“Hanni, that was my cousin Jimin.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face as the realization dawned on her.

“Your cousin? I never knew you had a cousin.”

“Yeah, she was here on a business tri—”

Before either of you could say anything more, a loud thump echoed from the window. Hanni let out a scream, her scream scaring you more than the thump itself. The room fell silent, both of you turning toward the sound.

“What was that?” Hanni whispered, her voice shaky.

You moved toward the window, your heart pounding.

“Y/N!” Hanni hissed, reaching to pull you back. “Don’t go too close. It might be a serial killer.”

At that comment, you snorted and decided to walk forward.

Pulling the curtain aside, you saw a pigeon lying on the ground, its wing awkwardly bent.

“It’s just a pigeon,” you said, opening the window carefully.

“Get it out of here,” Hanni said, her voice rising with panic. She backed away, her fear of birds evident in the way she trembled.

“Y/N, I’m serious. Pigeons are covered in germs.”

Ignoring her protests, you gently brought the pigeon inside, placing it on the table.

“It’s hurt, Hanni. I’m calling Dani. She’ll know what to do.”

A few minutes later, Danielle arrived, her vet kit in hand. She worked quickly, soothing the frightened bird and bandaging its wing. Hanni watched from the doorway, her fear momentarily forgotten as she observed the tenderness with which you handled the situation. You looked at the pigeon so softly and caringly, while Hanni just thought it was the ugliest bird ever. It was balding, and just a flurry of gray and white spots.

“Thank you, Dani,” you said as she finished up, giving you a reassuring smile before she left.

“It’s never a problem, Y/N. Bring it to the clinical room tomorrow, and our professors can check it out.” Dani said cheerfully, her grin brightening the whole room.

“I’m glad you guys are talking again,” she giggled, before shutting the door behind her.

As the door closed, the room was quiet again, but the tension between you and Hanni remained. She looked at you, her eyes filled with regret, and for a moment, you thought she might say something. But she simply averted her gaze and focused her attention on the bird.

“That bird is not staying in my room,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

You shrugged, at least she was talking to you again. “I’ll keep it in mine then.”

“It’s one of the ugliest birds I’ve ever seen.” She walked a bit closer to the pigeon, which gave a weird squawk and turned its bald head to look at her.

“Yeah, it’s kinda ugly.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly, looking anywhere except at each other.

“I’m going to name it Pablo,” Hanni said suddenly before walking back to her room.

You laughed at her randomness, feeling a bit better than you had in weeks.

The door to Hanni’s room was left half-open.

Neither of you addressed the weird distance that had grown between you over the past few weeks. But Hanni seemed to be in a better mood, and you noticed that she was slowly warming up to you again. She even visited Pablo with you, despite her initial disgust toward birds. Sometimes, she would bring bird seeds for the pigeon to snack on or sing to him with her beautiful, sweet voice when she thought you couldn’t hear her.

You weren’t back to normal, but you were getting there.

Hanni, on the other hand, had a plan. After all the heartbreak and misunderstandings she had accidentally caused, she was determined to set things right. She couldn’t imagine herself dating anyone else but you, and the thought of you holding someone else made her heart ache.

So she was thinking of a way to confess to you. She wanted nothing more than to be in your arms again, but as the days blurred into weeks and winter’s snow melted away into spring, she still hadn’t mustered the courage.

That was until the day you were to release Pablo back into the wild.

It was spring, and Dani had said that Pablo’s wing was fully healed and that it was the perfect time for him to rejoin nature.

As you and Hanni said your goodbyes to Pablo (you teared up a bit, while Hanni, still wary of the bird, merely poked its now fluffy head with her forefinger tenderly), she insisted on tying a small pink ribbon on one of Pablo’s feet.

“Just in case he ever flies by, I’ll recognize him,” she explained with a shy smile.

You drove to a nearby park with Hanni, talking and laughing along the way, similar to what you used to do, but with a sense of shyness hanging in the air.

Hanni opened the cage to let him go.

The two of you watched as he took flight, joining a flock of pigeons in the trees.

Finally, deciding to brave yourself again, you asked, “Hanni, what did I do before to make you hate me?”

Hanni’s face fell, sadness washing over her as she realized how you’d been feeling.

“I never hated you. I hated myself.” She whispered.

“Why?”

Hanni took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “I was confused about how I felt about you. I like you, Y/N, and I was so scared of that. I was scared that you didn’t like me back or that maybe I wasn’t really... you know, into girls.”

You sighed, relief and understanding flooding your heart.

You reached down to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ve always liked you, Hanni. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hanni’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and happiness. Her sweet face broke into a smile, the smile that she reserved only for you, and stood on her tiptoes. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer, so close that you could feel her breath on your lips. The smell of citrus on her skin was dizzying, in the best way.

The flock of pigeons took flight behind the two of you, their wings flapping in the background as if in celebration.

Hanni looked up at you, her voice soft and full of meaning. “I kept thinking... that’s us.”

You frowned, confused. “The pigeons?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her smile growing. “We’re birds of a feather. We belong together.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Hanni, you’re scared of birds.”

Hanni playfully rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

As Hanni’s words hung in the air, a playful smirk danced on her lips, but her eyes shone with a deep, genuine vulnerability. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the world around you fading into the background as the moment between you grew more intense. The light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the soft scent of blooming flowers, but all you could focus on was her.

When your lips finally met, it was gentle at first—soft, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then, as if something clicked, the kiss deepened, full of the emotions you’d both been holding back.

Her hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because you both needed to breathe. Hanni’s forehead rested against yours, her eyes half- closed, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You could feel her breath on your face, still quick and uneven, and you realized yours was the same.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your thumb gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

Hanni chuckled softly, her laugh full of relief and happiness.

“Me too,” she said, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes again. “Me too.”

The start of the new semester filled you with a sense of excitement. It had been just a year since you and Hanni had gotten together, and everything seemed brighter.

One morning, as Hanni was drying her hair with a towel, a loud thump against the window startled her. She let out a small scream, her hands flailing in surprise and nearly poking her eye.

“Are you okay, babe?” you called out from your shared room, the term still feeling endearing and intimate.

Hurrying out of the room, you found Hanni standing by the window, her eyes wide with fear as she pointed at something outside.

You sighed and walked over to her, gently pulling the curtains aside. The scene outside was familiar yet baffling—an ugly pigeon with a pink ribbon tied around its leg was perched on the windowsill. But this time, there was something different: the pigeon had made a nest and was now sitting on a batch of eggs.

Hanni blinked in disbelief and turned to you, her confusion in her voice.

“Pablo is a girl???”

A bit rushed 🥶 Getting kind of rusty after not writing for a while

#kpop fanfic #gxg #kpop imagines #wlw #kpop fic #newjeans #newjeans imagines #fluff #angst fic #kpop #hanni pham #wherethefireliliesgrow #pham hanni #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader

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heartepub · 2 months ago

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from the vantage point of death (teaser)

summary. when the lord of the dead meets the goddess of spring, all his plans are derailed. pairing. hades!choi seungcheol x f!persephone!reader genre/tags. reverse hades and persephone au, bastardizing mythologies to form my version of it, unhinged mc (a little, but we love her), NO STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, suggestive in the full version, more tags to come by then preview wc. ~600 ; full wc. ~10k (likely more) target posting. March 20, i.e. spring equinox

notes. blaming @ylangelegy cos the hozier brainrot got 10000x worse and made me bump this fic up in word count more than my actual feb fics. title co-opted from uklg. my characters have taken over the page while I tag along for the ride. as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined! stream hozier

For the first time in millennia, Seungcheol walks above ground.

As expected, the Goddess of Spring’s domain is a lush garden, nothing but Life as far as the eye can see. He enters much more easily than expected; the wards have weakened concerningly so, even as the lingering magic in the air hint at their former strength.

As he ventures in, the leaves sway to some invisible wind, a smidgen more alive-seeming than they would be in the mortal realm. Still, there is yellowing on some trees. Dead petals litter the floor. Leaves crunch under his shoe as he walks.

Though present, the Goddess’ magic is weakening.

“Goddess, are you here?” He calls.

In the distance, he hears someone coughing.

Seungcheol breaks into a jog, concern rising. He plucks through the threads of death that he senses, filtering them out until a single golden string remains, though its luster seems to dull with every minute that passes. He follows it forward.

“Goddess, please speak if you hear me.”

“Here,” he finally hears a weak voice croak.

He turns, finding you sprawled a few feet shy of what is evidently your chambers.

Seungcheol does not hesitate to lift you in his arms, walking up the steps you were collapsed on. Your breath escapes your mouth in reedy pants, eyes hazy and unseeing as you gaze at him without recognition. He nudges the gossamer curtains open, slipping through the gap while cradling you to his chest.

Seungcheol lowers you onto your bed, fluffing and adjusting the pillows the best he could. He finds a jug of water and a cup resting on a nearby table. Filling the cup, he tilts it up your lips. “Here. Drink.” You take small sips, holding not the cup, but his hands as he feeds the water to you. He feels your fingers trembling. Once a small noise of protest leaves you at the water still falling past your lips, Seungcheol quickly sets the cup aside, easing you into a lying position.

You close your eyes, breathing finally steady. Sorrow tugs at his heart as he wipes the sweat off your brow.

“Oh Goddess, how did this happen to you?”

It has been many centuries since the last time an immortal crossed the River. He wonders if the Underworld would be to your taste, absent of Life as it is. Only the lands of the blessed are lush with any kind of greenery, as it is near enough to Life, housing souls getting ready for reincarnation.

Lost in his thoughts, he does not notice the string of death that guided him to you suddenly wink into brilliant gold and disappear.

The Goddess’ eyes snap open, and Seungcheol startles. All too quickly, he feels strong hands grasp at his forearms and push. He stumbles back, almost tripping over his robes, but before he is able to resist, he lands in the middle of what he realizes is a ritual circle. The runes around his feet burst into brilliant gold light, washing the world in their glow. Vines rapidly begin to sprout, curling, tangling, and twisting above and around him. From beyond the light, he hears a faint voice chanting.

It is magic, but one entirely foreign to his eyes.

Finally, the glow fades. That same force he sensed earlier seems to be binding him in place, making his limbs ten times heavier than normal. Seungcheol fights to stand, grasping at the structure in front of him to help himself up. A great tangle of vines surrounds him; despite their flimsy appearance, they refuse to break or wilt with any amount of magic he forces into them.

In fact, they only seem to grow stronger.

Confusion gives way to realization, and then dawning fury. He zeroes in on the woman on the other side of the cage. The haze in your eyes has disappeared, replaced with a sharp gaze and a triumphant smirk. Around you, the air crackles with power.

“Caught you.”

#choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seungcheol x you #svt fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #.dive site

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dblk-archives · 6 months ago

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Castle of glass.

Summary: diaboys reacting to you fainting on them. Headcanons.

Characters: Kou Mukami, Subaru Sakamaki, Azusa Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: fainting, blood sucking, mentions of blood and knifes, a usual day in dialovers.

Something with my three fav boys... I might write more if you guys like it ♡

❀ Kou Mukami.

- At first he’d tease you, say something like “eeh my M-neko-chan has finally fallen for me I see!”

- That is until he notices how the vitality seems to drain from your expression. Your eyes seem glazed over, your body is limp, not in the way it is when you and him share sweet dreams in the comfort of his room.

- No reaction follows his usual teasing either, not your cute pouts or bashful glances when he managed to fluster you.

- There is clearly something wrong with you.

- And for an instant, he doesn’t know what to do.

- He stays there, kneeling besides your still body, his smile wiped from his face for once.

- He is very worried and low key panics for a second. There is so much he wanted to still show you, so many gifts he wants to still get for you, what if…

- No, he cannot let thoughts such as this to cloud his better judgement.

- Probably tries to ask his siblings for help (thankfully he doesn't take Azusa’s suggestion to stab you to see if you’ll react).

- With all the ruckus around you, your eyes begin to stir. Your sight is still unfocused, and yet those eyes of his his, like the bluest sky, somehow give you the strength to fight the dizziness away.

- “Kou-kun…” he hears the weak call of his name, and within seconds he is pulling you close to his chest, his forehead against yours to make sure you are here with him.

- “Stay with me…” a barely there utterance of your name leaves his perfect lips, not the nickname he often used, but your name, reserved often only for the intimacy shared in the privacy of his or your bed.

- Afterwards, he is totally giving you the princess treatment.

- You are always there for him when nightmares shatter his sleep in fragments of a painful past. He has to give back all the kindness and love you showered him in every time.

- Kou will bring you your favorite snack, even try to make it himself, despite the result maybe not being perfect (please accept it, he put so much effort into it!).

- If you’d rather cuddle, he’ll hold you all night, in the same way you did when the phantom of his scars still ached; he’ll sing to you, lyrics only you get to hear, the affection in his voice rivaling his tender touches.

- He just wants to be there for you as much as you have always been for him, he is such a sweet baby who loves you unconditionally.

❀ Subaru Sakamaki.

- “Tsk, oi! oi!” The anger in his voice is mixed with the shadows of worry and underlying dark hues of panic as he calls for you.

- To no avail, for you slump unresponsive against his chest.

- His arms wrap protectively around your form.

- “You idiot!” He grits his teeth, fear and anger rising in his heart, almost choking him like wilted rose thorns.

- Why are you not answering him? Why is a crease forming in between your brows?

- Is it his fault after all? Does he really always ruin everything?

- “Subaru…” You call, half unconscious. In your daze and shallow breathing, you cling to him.

- Clenching his jaw, Subaru picks you up in his arms.

- “You really are an idiot…” He softly utters, voice devoid of any malice.

- “Don’t go…” You mumble, skin coated in a sheen of sweat.

- Well, at least you seem to be conscious enough to still know he is by your side. He just hopes this is indeed not too bad.

- Brings you to your bed and when you fully wake up he is most likely losing it because why did you agree to him having your blood if you were feeling weak?

- You know he can go without it for a little longer, it’s not like he cares about you of course (his words not mine) it’s more that it’s a hassle to have to care for you afterwards and besides what if something had really happened to you or what if you hadn’t been with him-

- His speech is interrupted by your hands gently cupping his face and your lips on top of his.

- For an instant, ruby eyes widen, his cheeks matching their hue, but then he is quick to return the kiss.

- There is desperation written all over it, filling the sensation with subtle layers of fear, white wilted petals on moonless nights.

- “I love you…” You think you hear, barely above a whisper, when you part ways.

- “What did you say, Subaru?” You ask, half teasing.

- His face’s hue deepens, as he pouts, looking away.

- “I told you! You have to tell me when you are too exhausted to give me blood! Don’t you dare do that again!” He sputters, stomping away.

- Well, you’d rather he be his tsundere self that have him worried about you (as cute as he is).

❀ Azusa Mukami.

- Not a good idea to fall unconscious by his side, just saying /hj.

- See, Azusa is a sweet boy. It’s just that he might use… rather… eh… unconventional methods to try and wake you up.

- I mean, yes, he sure is scared that you just have fainted on him, but also the pained expression on your face… That means you are enjoying this, no?

- Then, is this really bad? Maybe if he gives you some new “friends” you might come to.

- He really is trying his best, poor baby :(

- But this isn’t right… you usually flinch or try to resist when he tries to cut you.

- Why are you completely unresponsive now?

- “Hey… Eve…” Azusa calls, his voice slightly quivering, the usual aloofness in it threatening to crack.

- This is definitely not good, you always answered him, after all.

- Now he is beginning to become frightened. What if he ends up losing you too? He doesn't want you to be just a permanently etched wound on his skin. He needs you, your here and now.

- “Azusa, what are you doing?” Ruki’s voice cuts through his disarrayed thoughts.

- “Eve… they… they fainted.”

- “It’s not severe, I told you not to cut her too much, figure it out by yourself.” Is Ruki’s statement as he walks away.

- After a few minutes, you finally regain consciousness.

- You are met by dull amethyst eyes, a silver lining illuminating them beautifully the moment you react.

- “You’re awake… Eve…”

- He wraps his arms around you before you’ve had time to fully sit up from the daze.

- “Azusa!” You yelp, not expecting the sudden embrace.

- Despite him always having a cold body temperature, his hug feels… comforting, a welcome warmth fending off the chills that raked your skin up until moments ago.

- A smile tugs at your lips, as you return the embrace. Perhaps Azusa is learning about this gentler kid of affection now.

- In that case, you’ll give him plenty of it. You stay like that for a while, neither of you wanting to pull away.

- “Eve… is safe…” He whispers, pulling away enough to lock eyes with you with a tender smile.

- And his gentleness does certainly make you feel that way right now.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers x reader #diabolik lovers headcanons #kou mukami #subaru sakamaki #azusa mukami #subaru x reader #kou x yui #azusa x yui #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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kyleoreillylover · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐖𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 ♡

𝙅𝙚𝙮 𝙐𝙨𝙤 𝙭 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Everyone swears something is going on between you and Jey, but you guys are just best friends. Here are a few moments to disprove that.

Warnings: SMUT!!! Unwanted advances, wrestling related violence, two idiots pining after each other.

A/N: This is one of my longest and best works and I am proud of it! I got inspired listening to Shameless by Camilla Cabello, so I’d reccomend listening to it while reading. This took so freaking long, so I hope you enjoy! Tagged: @southerngirl41 @pinkwithhearts @xbutterflius-effectusx

Word Count: 28,105

Moment One

You took off your headphones, taking a sip of your water and putting your weights away, your muscles aching from your intense workout. The gym was nearly empty, the dim lights casting long shadows across the mats.

You liked it like this, quiet and calming, unlike the rest of your schedule. You loved your career, but it nothing if not demanding and mind consuming. Long days as you were on the road while you interacted with media, fans, and even longer meeting with creative. The gym was the one place you felt like you didn't have to play a character, where you could be 100% yourself, where you could finally feel calm. It was one of your few safe spaces.

And you glanced at your other safe space, Jey- who was across the gym sparring with a training dummy. He was drenched in sweat, his muscles glistening in the low light as he hit the dummy over and over again.

You watched him for a moment as you made your way over, a grin on your face as he super kicked the dummy. "Y'know, a lot of people would pay good money for you to do that to them?"

Jey turned towards you, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. Oh, are you one of 'em?" he teased, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You chuckled, walking closer, the scent of his sweat and the gym's metallic tang filling your senses. "Maybe," you replied with a grin. "If you'll let me."

Jey's eyebrows raised, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You gotta pay the price for that privilege, then, sweetheart." He smirked, beckoning you to the mat.

You listened to him and made your way into the ring, tilting your head, feigning innocence. "And what's the price, huh?"

Jey grinned at you, lips curled into a challenging smile as he wiped more sweat off his brow. "How 'bout a little match? Winner chooses punishment for the loser."

You smirked at him, rolling up your sleeve and circling him. "Can I get punished too if I win?" You pouted, making Jey laugh, a deep, hearty sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sure thing. But you ain't gonna win." He teased, stepping closer and mirroring your stance.

"Whatever makes you feel better, babe." You shot back, and the two of you closed in, locking up in a grapple. The both of you knew each other inside and out, so it was like a game of chess, jey's strength against your agility. You both tried to stay serious, but Jey kept on using terrible trash talk each time he had the upper hand, making you giggle, then making him laugh, then making him lose the upper hand, and that process relating itself over and over again.

You finally got Jey in a headlock, and couldn't help but laugh as he pretended to struggle to free himself. "Come on, big man, what you got?" you taunted.

Jey chuckled as you tightened your grip. "You really tryna see what I got?" he said, still grinning. "You gonna regret it, sweetheart."

But as he tried to break free, his foot hit the edge of the ring, and he stumbled, pulling you down with him.

You both tumbled to the mat, and in that moment, everything felt like slow motion as Jey quickly turned around and moved you, trying to soften the blow for you as the two of you fell on the mat. You ended up on top of him, your breath hitching as you looked down into his dark, intense eyes.

The gym was silent except for the sounds of your heavy breathing, and you could feel the warmth of his body beneath you, his arms around your waist. Jey's eyes never left yours, and his grip on your waist didn't loosen, his chest rising up and down with each heavy breath.

What is happening? You wondered, face inches away from Jey. This is your best friend, the person you've been friends with for years and who knew you in and out. You shouldn't be feeling like this, right?

Jey's voice broke you out of your thoughts, his gaze still locked onto yours. "You good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You swallowed hard, finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from his. "Yeah, I'm good." You managed to stammer out, your voice slightly breathless.

Jey nodded, but his grip on your waist didn't loosen. Just as he was about to say something more, the gym door creaked open, and Jimmy's voice echoed through the room. "Yo, where you guys at? Roman's been looking for ya'll, he wants everyone at the hotel so we don't miss our flights!"

You quickly pushed yourself off Jey, your cheeks flushing as you scrambled to your feet.

"Uh, yeah, we're coming," you called out, your voice slightly higher pitched than usual. You avoided looking directly at Jey, still feeling the lingering warmth of his touch.

"Ya'll good?" Jimmy asked, eyeing the two of you in the ring, and you hopped he didn't sense the tension between you.

"Yeah, just lost track of time," Jey replied smoothly, standing up and giving you a quick, knowing glance before turning to his brother.

Jimmy looked like he wanted to ask more, but he gave his brother one more look before shrugging it off, heading back out of the gym. "Alright, just don't be slow. I'm not saving ya'll if Roman decides to go full tribal chief on ya," he chuckled, disappearing through the door.

You bit your lip, glancing at Jey who was already looking back at you. There was a mix of emotions in his eyes, but you couldn't quite place them.

"Thanks for… you know," you started, gesturing vaguely to the mat, but Jey understood what you meant. He always understood.

Jey's lips curled into a soft smile. "You know I always got your back, Uce," he said, his tone warm and reassuring. "We good?" He asked, holding out his hand to you for a handshake.

You took a breath before giving smiling back, dabbing him up. "Yeah, we're good." you replied, his skin feeling smooth on yours.

"I told ya'll to hurry up!" Jimmy yelled out again impatiently from outside the gym. You and Jey shared a look before breaking out laughing, the tension from a moment ago fading into comfortable laughter. That's what you liked about him, how no matter what, he always made you feel comfortable.

"Alright, alright," Jey chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulders once you got your stuff. "Let's go before Roman goes all crazy on us."

And as you both headed out of the gym, your heart was still racing, but you chalked it up to the adreadine. You knew there was nothing going on, just your stupid heart mistaking fear for something else. Nothing else.

And if he brought you just a bit closer to him than needed that you were practically tucked into his side, it was probably just his way of making sure you were alright. Right? You tried to convince yourself of that, even as you felt the steady beat of his heart against your shoulder.

It was nothing else. It couldn't be anything else, and you would always make sure of that.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Moment Two

Jey was grumbling under his breath as he watched you flirt with Finn Balor like there was no tomorrow, his arms crossed tightly over his chest

"Jimmy, Solo, you seeing this?" Jey muttered, his gaze never leaving the scene unfolding in front of him. Jimmy chuckled, leaning in closer to his brother. Solo remained silent, but raised an eyebrow at Jey's demeanor.

"Relax, Uce. It's all part of Roman's plan, remember? She's just doing her job." Jey shot Jimmy a frustrated look, still unable to tear his eyes away from you and Finn.

"Yeah, but does she have to be so... convincing?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "You not getting jealous, are you, Uce?"

Jey's eyes narrowed, and he huffed in annoyance. "Of course not. It's just... I don't want him trying anything with her. I don't want him playing with her."

Jimmy nodded knowingly, glancing back at you and Finn. "Trust me, she knows what she's doing. And we ain't gonna let nobody hurt her. Roman's got this all planned out. Right Solo?" Solo nodded silently in agreement.

Jey clenched his jaw before nodding as well, but his gaze never left you and Finn. A tech walked up to the three of them, informing them their match started in 10. Jey immediately bolted to you and Finn, not looking back to his smirking brothers.

"Aye, time out on all the lovey lovey crap, we gots to go." You jumped in surprise when Jey came out of nowhere, stepping between you and Finn.

"We were just having a friendly chat, nothing to worry your arse about, man." Finn smirked at him, moving to get closer to you but Jey stepped in front of you, blocking Finn's path.

"Well too bad, friendly chat's over!" Jey grabbed your arm and pulled you away, and you waved to Finn, blowing a kiss at him. "Talk to you later, Finn!"

"You ain't talking to nobody later." Jey grumbled, continuing to pull you away, guiding you to the ramp where his brothers were waiting.

"You never let me have any fun!" You pouted, trying to keep up with him.

"You look like you had plenty of fun." Jey muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance.

You couldn't help but laugh at the frustrated look on Jey's face. "Don't be jealous. You know you're still my number one boy."

Jey couldn't help but roll his eyes at your teasing "I ain't jealous," he said, though the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips told a different story.

You gave him a mocking pout, playfully batting your eyelashes. "Mhm, whatever you say babe." He looked ready to argue with you, but you approached the ramp, Solo and Jimmy waiting for you.

"Everything set with Finn? You guys were real close earlier." Jimmy asked, a knowing grin on his face. Jey clenched his jaw again while you smiled, oblivious to Jey's anger.

"Everything's set, trust me. Finn and Damien aren't taking your tag titles tonight, or any other night." You confidently promised, earning a nod from Solo, a wide smile from Jimmy and a more restrained nod from Jey,

"That's what I'm talking about, girl!" Jimmy hollered, clapping you on the back and dapping you up. You giggled at his enthusiasm, leaning into him and glancing at Jey, who thankfully had a small smile onto his face and slowly began to ease back into his usual self.

"You ready to put these emo freaks in their place?" You joked, moving from Jimmy and nudging Jey. Jey let out a laugh at your words, looking at his title before meeting your eyes again.

"Let's go show em why we run this place!" Jimmy hollered again, dabbing Jey up, holding their titles up and clanking them together, waving out the ramp.

You held out your hand to Solo for a fist bump, smiling up at him. "You ready?" Solo nodded and gave you a firm fist bump.

"Let's do this."

You strutted to the ring with him by your tail, your own women's championship shining around your waist as you walked to the ring, Jey and Jimmy by your side, the Judgment Day all already waiting, Rhea standing at ringside. You waved at her mockingly, taunting her as you stepped into the ring, giggling at her glare. You blew a kiss at Finn as you sat on the apron, making him smile at you before Damien elbowed him harshly, making his smile turn into a glare.

The bell soon rang, and you hopped out of the ring to ringside, Solo by your side as the match went underway. Jimmy and Jey were bringing it to Damien and Finn, but they were honestly all evenly matched, which worried you. But whenever it looked like the Twins would lose, you made sure to jump on the ramp, distracting Finn with your flirty words and pretty looks, making him lose the upper hand.

"Finn, did you look this good just for me tonight?" You purred, fluttering your eyelashes for added effect. Finn stumbled back from his attacks on Jey, not being able to take his eyes off of you, too distracted by you.

Damien noticed the distraction too. "Finn! Snap out of it!" he yelled, snapping him out of his stupor. But it was too late, Jey had gotten back up and slammed Finn back down onto the mat, and you smirked across the ropes as Jey took control over the match.

"You little minx!" Rhea yelled at you, seething with anger, moving from her corner get to you. You got off the ropes and ran to Solo, hiding behind him.

"Come get me if you want me!" You peeked out from Solo, a grin on your face. She scoffed and tried to push past Solo, but he blocked her path, not letting her get to you. They had a stare down, neither of them backing down.

You took advantage of the distraction and slipped back into the ring, just in time to see Finn hit coup de grace on Jimmy as he went for the pin. The referee counted: "One, two..."

But before the referee's hand could come down for the three-count, you grabbed Finn's leg and yanked him out of the ring, breaking the pin. Finn stumbled, anger flashing in his eyes before realizing it was you.

You gave him an innocent smile, winking playfully as you retreated a few steps. "What's the matter, Finnie?" You teased, your voice dripping with faux innocence. Your mouth opened to make another teasing remark, but a fist connecting with your face sent you reeling back.

It was Rhea, her eyes blazing with fury as she tried to land another punch on you. But this time you were prepared, ducking it and jumping on top of her, raining down punches on her. The two of you brawled all over ringside, the crowd's cheers echoing in your ear as fists flew and hair was pulled, Solo struggling to pull the two of you off of each other.

You ended up on top of the ramp, standing and leaning on the ropes to catch your breath. You stood up, breathing heavily, seeing Rhea on the ground, also out of breath. But what you didn't see was Damien hurling towards you, thinking you were one of the twins. You turned around, and Damien realized you weren't one of the twins until it was too late, crashing into you.

You shrieked as you tumbled, bracing yourself to hit the floor. But instead of landing on the floor, you landed in muscled arms that quickly caught you, the impact jolting through you.

You looked up, wide-eyed, and found yourself staring into Jey's concerned eyes.

His arms were securely around you, holding you close to his chest while yours were wrapped around his neck, almost on instinct. Everything else faded away as you looked into Jey's brown eyes, his face inches from yours. Neither of you said a word, time seeming to slow down as you were locked in an intense stare, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you okay?" This time it was you that broke the silence, whispering the words as your breaths mingled. The worry in Jey's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly, his grip on you relaxing just a bit. "Yeah, I got you," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Are you?"

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. "Yeah, thank you." Jey's grip tightened just a fraction, his thumb brushing gently against your side, reminding you you were still in his arms.

"No need to thank me, sweetheart." he said, his voice gentle. "Just doin' what I always do." You managed a small smile, but before you could respond, you saw Rhea hurling towards you.

Jey moved before you could do anything, sidestepping with you in his arms, making her miss and craah into the barricade instead. You quickly got out of Jey's arms, missing the way his arms lingered as he watched you go, his expression unreadable.

You brushed off what happened, focusing on Rhea and beating the hell out of her.

Jimmy and Jey ended up winning the match and retaining their titles, you and Solo going into the ring and celebrating with them.

You stood next to Jey, his eyes never leaving yours as you raised his arm, pretending like you didn't feel his gaze burning through you. He was probably just proud of the victory and you helping him, right? You let go of his arm, running right into a hug from Jey.

"Couldn't have won without you!" Jey exclaimed, pulling you close and lifting you off the ground, his title cold against your skin. You smiled back at him as he set you down, but your smile faltered a bit when you noticed the intensity in his gaze.

The four of you eventually left the ring, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you went through the curtains, the roar of the crowd still ringing in your ears. Jimmy noticed the smile leave your face, and as soon as you dragged Solo to the locker room, he approached Jey with a knowing look. "You guys alright, Uce? She seemed a little off."

Jey shifted his gaze from you, who had just left the area with Solo, to Jimmy. He had an look Jimmy couldn't read before Jey gave him a smile, "Of course, Uce. We're all good," Jey replied, though his smile seemed just a tad forced. Jimmy studied his brother for a moment, sensing there was more to the story, but he decided not to press further. If Jey wanted to talk about it, he would.

He just hopes Jey's words are true.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Moment Three

You clenched your phone, the cold air biting into your skin as you looked around panicking, seeing that same man from outside still following you, making you quicken your pace.

You fumbled with your phone, your glossy eyes making it hard for you to dial the number you know by heart. You managed to press the call button, the phone ringing on the other end. Your heart pounded in your chest as you prayed for him to answer. The call rang once, twice, and then, a familiar voice answered.

"Hey sweetheart. Wassup? If you wanted to see me you coulda just went to my room" He teased.

Tears welled up in your eyes, both from fear and relief. "Jey, I need you," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

Jey's tone immediately shifted, concern washing over him as he sat up in alarm. "What's goin' on, baby girl? Where are you?"

You took a deep, shaky breath before speaking, still keeping an eye on the man following you. "I'm... I'm outside, and there's this guy. He's been following me for a while now, and I'm scared."

Jey was already starting his car, running to the parking lot and putting his keys in. "Stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming to you. Can you tell me where you are?"

You quickly glanced around, trying to spot anything familiar that you could tell him. "I'm near that little park we passed by earlier, the one with the fountain," you managed to say, your voice trembling.

"Alright, I know where you at. Just stay on the line, okay? I'm on my way," Jey reassured you, trying to keep himself calm as he rushed to get to you.

"Okay, Jey. Please hurry," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to keep your composure. You looked around you when you heard a noise, and saw the same man coming closer to you, a disgusting smirk on his face.

"Get the hell away from me!" You yelled, taking a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. You were scared, but you knew you couldn't just stand there.

"What's the matter, baby? I just want to please you." You gave the man a disgusted look as he licked his lips, trying to advance on you.

"Well I don't want your musty ass, so stay away from me!" The man's eyes darkened with anger at your words, and he grabbed your wrist, making you shriek and try to push him away,

"What!? What happened, baby?" Jey yelled through the phone at your scream, hearing your yelling and panic.

You didn't respond, the phone dropping to the ground as you were pushing the man away from you and making him fall to the ground and try to grab your leg, but you managed to kick him off and scramble away, your heart pounding in your chest.

The man tried to crawl towards you, but before he could a car pulled up beside you, and the door swung open, revealing Jey, his eyes red with anger as he saw you on the floor, trembling with fear because of this disgusting man trying to get to you.

Jey lunged towards him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the car, punching the man hard in the face over and over again until he was bleeding, his knuckles raw with how hard he was punching him. The man was crying, begging for forgiveness, making Jey scoff at his audacity.

"Why you crying now, big boy? You were all tough a minute ago," Jey taunted the man, punching him once more before shoving him into the car, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the car window. The man's gasps for breath echoed in the chilly night air.

"You mess with my girl, but you don't have the balls to handle it, huh?" Jey tightened his grip on his throat, enjoying the scared noises coming from him. The man gurgled and struggled to speak, his eyes pleading for mercy. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he managed to croak out.

Jey's grip on the man's throat only tightened as he growled in a low, menacing tone, "Oh trust me, you gon' be real sorry." Jey slammed the man's head against the car window, causing it to crack and the man to scream in pain.

You watched with tears streaming down your face as Jey beat him unconscious, slamming his head against the car over and over again.

Jey wasn't letting up, making his head crack against the car until you feared the man not be alive anymore if you let this continue and rushed over to Jey, tugging at his arm desperately.

"Jey, please stop! He's not worth it!" Jey stopped and turned to you, breathing heavily with anger. His eyes softened as he looked at your trembling form, your tear-streaked face and the fear in your eyes. He released the man's throat, letting him slump to the ground, unconscious.

"Are you okay, babygirl?" Jey asked, hands hovering over you, not sure you wanted to be touched right now.

You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. "If you didn't come..I don't know what would have happened," you managed to say between sobs, your voice muffled against Jey's chest.

"Shh, don't think 'bout that. I'ma always come for you." Jey whispered to you, tightening his hold around you, his heartbeat soothing your racing one. He looked down at the man he had just beaten, a sneer on his face as he looked at the piece of trash.

"This piece of shit ain't gonna bother you again," Jey said, his voice still laced with anger as he gently led you to his car. You nodded, your throat tight with fear and relief. Jey opened the car door for you, helping you get in before hopping in the drivers seat, his hand on your thigh rubbing circles into your skin helping you calm down as he drove through the streets to your shared hotel.

"Did he touch you?" You shook your head, still clinging to Jey's hand on your thigh as he drove. "No, he didn't. I managed to keep him away, but I was so scared, Jey."

Jey squeezed your thigh gently, his eyes glancing at you a couple times before going back to the road. "You did good, baby girl. Real good. You're safe now, okay? I got you," Jey's voice was soothing, a stark contrast to your racing mind.

You leaned your head against the window, letting out a shaky breath. "I know you do. I don't know what I'd do without you." Jey's grip on your thigh tightened, his thumb still tracing soothing circles.

"You ain't ever gotta find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be here for you. Always."

You finally arrived back at the hotel, your heart still pounding in your chest, but Jey's arm wrapped around you as he escorted you inside made you feel better. He lead you up to your room.

As you both entered your room, Jey locked the door behind you. He gently guided you to the bed, making you sit down, and then crouched in front of you, his hands cupping your face to ensure you looked into his eyes.

"I'm right here, baby girl. You're safe now," he said, his voice filled with tenderness. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

You nodded, leaning in the warmth of his touch. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Jey. I didn't want you to..." Jey's fingers gently pressed against your lips, silencing you.

"Shh, none of that. You did what you had to do, and I'm glad you called me. You're safe now, that's all that matters." "

But if I didn't leave to get some air in the first place, none of this would have happened," you whispered, guilt gnawing at you.

Jey's eyebrows furrowed at your words, his fingers moving from your lips to your chin, making you meet his gaze. "Don't go blaming yourself for this sweetheart. This is on that man, not on you, okay?"

You blinked back tears at his words, his soothing touch grounding you. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Okay, Jey."

Jey smiled softly, hugging you closer to him. "Good." He hugged you a moment longer before pulling away, his eyebrows furrowed again.

"I ain't mean to pry, especially right now, but is everything good? Why you needed some air in the middle of the night?"

You looked away from his gaze, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wanted to keep everything to yourself, to not burden him further, knowing Jey's strained relationship with his cousin, but another part of you longed to confide in him.

"It's just... everything's been so overwhelming lately, Jey. The traveling, the constant pressure, especially from Roman..."

Jey's face fell at the mention of Roman, his jaw clenching at the thought of Roman making you feel this way. He reached out and gently tilted your chin up, making you meet his eyes again.

"What did he do?" You hesitated, not sure how well Jey would take it. But he wanted to know, wanted to protect you. You finally decided to open up.

"He's just been... demanding, controlling. Sometimes it feels like he's suffocating me," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes again.

"After the show today, he called me in his hotel room to discuss my loss." Jey's eyes darkened, it must've been serious if you were talking to him about this, you hated talking about your losses.

"He was furious, yelling about how it reflects on the bloodline and how I need to step up. But it's not like I lost my title! And when I told him that he got mad and I tried to apologize.... but he started throwing stuff, and said it wasn't good enough," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I needed to get out of there."

Jey's eyes were red with anger and something else you couldn't decipher as he listened to you. His arms rubbed your back soothingly, the comfort just as much for him as it was for you. “I ain’t gonna let him treat you like that.” Your head perked up at the anger lacing in his words, not liking the rage consuming him.

“No, you’re not gonna do anything.” You pulled back slightly to look at Jey, concern in your eyes. "Jey, please dont do anything stupid, you know how Roman is!”

“Yeah, and I don’t care! He's crossed a line, baby girl, and now he gonna pay the consequences.” You brought your hand to his cheek, gently caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. “Jey, think is why I didn’t wanna tell you! Cause you get so mad you can’t think straight. I don’t know want Roman doing anything to do, so just drop it.”

“Drop it?” Jey scowled at your words and how easy you were brushing all this off. There must’ve been something else you weren’t telling him. “What the hell he say to you, cause I ain’t ever seen you like this.” It was true, you were one of the most independent and strong-willed people Jey knew, and seeing you like this had him on edge.

You sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting Jey's gaze again. "He... he said some things about you. Said he knew how you are and how I blab everything to you… and that if I told you he would hurt you. That he’d destroy you, and It’d all be my fault.”

You bit your lower lip, tears welling up again. “He sounded so...so serious, Jey, and it scared me. He can hurt me all he wants, but I’m not gonna let him do anything to you.”

Jey’s heart sank at your words and how serious yet sad you sounded. How dare Roman use you as his fucking pawn to keep you all in line?! He pushed away his anger as best as he could and brought you closer to him, making your head rest on his chest. His hand gently stroked your back, comforting you while his thoughts raced.

He knew how fucked up Roman could be, and all this brought him back to 2020; all that hurt, all that anger, all that pain his own family member caused him. But it was worth it to protect you, and hed do it agaun to shield you from Roman’s wrath. But now it felt like all his efforts meant nothing, like he was trapped in a cycle he couldn't escape.

"Listen to me, sweetheart." He was sitting on the bed with you, grabbing you and bringing you onto his lap, holding you in his arms. He had never been this touchy with you before, but you welcomed it, needing his touch to ground you in that moment.

"I promise you, baby girl, I ain't gonna let him touch me. I ain't gonna let him touch you either, no matter what.” Jey’s voice was scarily calm as he spoke. He held you tighter against his chest the more he spoke, but you could feel his heartbeat racing. You knew he was seething with anger, but he was doing his best to keep it in check for your sake.

You held onto Jey tightly, your fingers clutching his shirt as if he were your lifeline. And in that moment he was, he was the only thing keeping you sane. "Please, Jey," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don't do anything. I don't want anything to happen to you. I can't have a repeat of 2020... I can't see you get hurt. Please promise me you'll let this go.

Jey's grip on you tightened at your words, his chin resting on the top of your head. "I can't just let this go, baby girl," Jey murmured, his voice conflicted. "You're my best friend, my girl, the one person other than Jimmy I trust with my life. And the thought of him hurtin' you or threatenin' you like this..." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, You were holding onto him like he was your anchor, your grip never wavering, listening to every word he was saying.

"It makes me so fucking mad, tears me up inside knowing he fucking did this." Jey scowled at the thought of Roman making you feel like this, making you feel like the way he's felt for the past 3 years.

You lifted your head, looking into Jey's eyes with a pleading expression. "I understand, Jey, I do. How do you think I feel every time he treats you like that, every time he goes after you? It breaks my heart too, but I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me." Your voice broke at the end, all your pent up emotions and the night’s effects on you coming to a head.

Jey's heart broke at the sadness coming from your voice, his heart aching at the pain he saw in your eyes. He brought a hand to cup your cheek gently, his thumb tracing small circles not your soft skin.

"I hate seein' you like this, baby girl. I hate that he's got you feelin' this way, and I hate that I can't just... fix it." Jey opened up his own emotions getting the better of him. He wasn't the type of man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but with you, it was different. You brought out a side of him he hand't known existed.

You sighed, leaning into Jey's touch, the warmth and care in his eyes soothing you. "I know, Jey. I wish I could fix it too. But it's not that simple, trust me. Promise me that you'll let this go. For me, please. You're all that matters to me right now."

Jey hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked onto yours and you could see the internal struggle in his gaze. He was torn between his fear of Roman, his instinct to protect you, and to respect your wishes. He sighed, looking away from you deep in thought. You wrapped your arms around his neck,

scratching the hairs on the back of his head gently until he was ready and finally met your eyes again. His eyes were still filled with anger, but they softened the more they looked at your begging gaze. "I can't promise anything, but for you, I'll let it go... for now. But if he ever tries anything like this again, he's gonna have to deal with me, okay?"

You nodded, relieved that Jey didn't go fists pounding and swinging to Roman's hotel room in a fit of rage. You knew Jey could be a hothead, but you also knew that he cared about you deeply, and you didn't want to see him get hurt or make things worse.

"Thank you, Jey," you whispered, hugging him tightly. You wrapped your arms around Jey, holding him close, and for a while, the two of you just sat there in silence, finding comfort in each other's presence. Jey's heart still raced with anger, but he was doing his best to control it for your sake. He continued to caress your back, trying to provide you with as much comfort as possible. "Anytime, baby girl," Jey whispered back, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close.

After a while, your eyes began to grow heavy, from the day's work and the emotional turmoil of the night. Jey noticed you drifting off to sleep and shifted you in his arms, pulling your head from his chest. "You should get some rest, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone gentle. You snapped awake and grabbed his arm in a panic. "Can you stay with me please? I don't think I can stay alone, not after tonight."

Jey smiled softly, holding your hand that was clinging onto him. "Of course, baby girl. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here with you all night if that's what you need." You sighed with relief, your exhaustion finally starting to take its toll. Jey saw and gently helped you sit up, letting you lean on him. "You gotta change first, sweetheart. Want me to help you to the bathroom?"

You nodded, still feeling a bit shaky from the night's events. Jey helped you to your feet and guided you to the bathroom. He stood outside, giving you some privacy while you changed into more comfortable clothes. When you came out he let out a teasing whistle.

"You clean up pretty good, baby girl." Despite the events of the night, he was trying to bring a smile to your face. You managed a small chuckle, which was a good sign. You settled into the bed, and Jey joined you, peeling off his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

Your eyes went straight to his defined and very hot abs, taking your eyes away when he brought his gaze back to you after he finished changing. He slid inside the bed and brought you close to him, holding you in his arms as you both settled in. You felt safe and warm, your head resting on his chest as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Jey's fingers lightly traced patterns on your back, lulling you into a sense of security.

Jey pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath against your skin. "Sleep now, baby girl. I've got you." He murmured in a soothing tone, massaging your back gently. You closed your eyes, finally feeling at peace in his arms.

Jey continued to massage you, alternating between gentle strokes and soothing words until your breathing slowed, and you drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

He watched as you slept soundly in his arms, his mind racing with anxiety and anger that he had grown accustomed to. But he had not grown accustomed to seeing you hurt like this, seeing that sad look on your face and feeling your trembling form clinging onto him. It shattered and tore at his heart, knowing he couldn't completely shield you from the pain caused by Roman. It reminded him of the helplessness he felt in the past, reminded him of the part of him that was broken because of Roman. He couldn't let Roman do that to you. He looked at you, his heart aching for you, but not just at your pain, but something else he stuffed deep down inside of him for a long, long time. He sighed softly, bringing his lips down to your head one more time.

"I love you, you're..." Jey hesitated for a moment, barely able to hear his voice from how low he was speaking. He had never said these words out loud, never allowed himself to admit it even to himself. He gazed at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your back. "my best friend."

He still couldn't bring himself to admit what he knew out loud, partially in fear you might be secretly awake and hear him and partially because saying it out loud felt like crossing a line he wasn't sure he was ready to cross. Jey wasn't good with feelings and opening himself up, and was terrified of the vulnerability that came with admitting his feelings.

"You're my best friend. You're my girl, and it don't matter who comes at you, Roman included, I'ma always protect you. Always." Jey promised himself, holding you a little tighter every time he spoke.

He looked down at you one last time before snuggling into you, finally closing his eyes and the weight of the world fall from his shoulders with your touch. He let sleep wash over him, drifting off to sleep with one thought in his mind.

If Roman wanted to run back 2020, then his ass better be prepared. Cause Jey wouldn't let history repeat itself.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Moment Four

incoming text from jeybae: why the hell you avoiding me?

another incoming text from jeybae: i know you seeing these. neither of us want our business coming out on camera, but if that the only way I'm gon' have u talk to me then it's what's gon' happen.

another incoming text from jeybae: don't say i ain't warn you. you ain't gon' run from me, ma.

You sighed as you shut your phone off, continuing to put your makeup on in the girls locker room and ignore the concerned glance that Liv was giving you.

"Everything okay, hun?" Liv finally asked, concern lacing her voice. You looked up, offering Liv a faint smile. "I'm fine, don't worry your pretty little head about me, Liv."

You were far from fine, but she didn't need to know that. You did know that you were at least kind of valid with your feelings. Ever since Sami betrayed the Bloodline, Jey had been radio-silent, not speaking to anyone, including you. You had tried calling, texting, doing anything but you hadn't heard a peep from him. He hadn't called any of his family members either, Jimmy being the most concerned for him outside of you. You had spent many nights consoling Jimmy, assuring Jey would come back when he was ready. And when he did come back, it wasn't even for you, it was for Jimmy, and even though he didn't tell Jimmy either, it felt like a slap in the face after everything you've been through.

And yeah, it might've been petty to ignore him when everyone else accepted him with open arms, but couldn't just pretend like everything was fine and peachy and go back to the way things were. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Liv gently touched your arm.

"Look, I get that you've got some stuff going on, but maybe you should talk to Jey. I've known him a long time, and he's a good guy. He's probably just trying to figure things out too."

You bit your lip, grateful for Liv's concern but not entirely convinced it was that simple.

"I appreciate your advice, but he had his space, and now I need mine." Liv gave you a sympathetic look, but didn't push anymore. "Alright babe, just know you can always talk to me if you need to."

You gave Liv a genuine smile, touched by her kindness. "Thank you, Liv." You stood up, giving her a hug before leaving the room, smoothing out your outfit as you waited for your cue to go to the ring.

Roman had surprisingly let you have your own promo tonight, saying it'll get your mind in shape and out of the sadness that seemed to consume you recently. Your music hit, and you made your way to the ring, ignoring the cheers and boos as you gestured for the crew member to give you the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Smackdown, otherwise known as my show." You had an-albiet forced- cocky smile on your face as you addressed the crowd. "Everyone has been so busy with Sami that they've forgotten who the true face of the women's division is, and I am here to remind everybody that it is me."

You smirked, patting your women's championship that was shining around your waist. "You see, there are those who chase opportunities, and then there's me, who creates them. I don't wait for my moment; I seize it. And Sami had to chase for his opportunity, beg for it, and then when he finally got it, he threw it all away for Kevin Owens, his best friend who doesn't even like him!"

You laughed, reveling in the boos as you gloated. "But his time has passed, and mine has arrived. So this will be the last time I address him, and the first time I addressed what else has happened with the Bloodline."

Your tone shifted from playful to serious, as you looked directly into the camera, your smirk turning into a glare. "Everyone is saying how the Bloodline has turned vulnerable, how they're divided. But let me make something clear: the Bloodline will always stand strong. There is nothing wrong, no division, only unity, and no matter what we will always run the WWE. So if anyone wants to come test me on that, feel free to come out right now so I can teach you how wrong you are."

You paused, looking at the ramp to see if anyone would be stupid enough to challenge you. But to everyones surprise but your own, it was Jey's music that hit, and the two of you locked eyes across the arena.

Much like the other times you guys locked eyes, it was like you were the only two in the room, his steely eyes never leaving you down as he made his way into the ring, frown never leaving his face as he stepped in the ring, the two of you mere inches apart.

"Cut my music." Jey demanded sharply, the tension in the air so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. The music abruptly halted, leaving only the echoes of the crowd and your shallow breaths.

"What, no welcome hug, Jey?" You quipped with a sarcastic smile on your face, your words dripping with a mixture of bitterness and pain. Jey's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a mix of frustration and hurt.

"This aint the time for jokes." Jey's voice was low, his tone edged with a kind of intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You ain't answering my calls, my texts, anything!"

You scoffed, feeling anger boil up inside you. You held the microphone firmly, your voice resolute.

"You're right, Jey. I haven't been answering your calls and texts. You want to know why? Because for once, it's me who needed space. You disappeared without a word for weeks, and when you finally came back, it wasn't to see me. It was to see Jimmy. You didn't tell me what you've been going through, and I get it, you needed time, but it hurt, Jey. You hurt me. And I needed to figure out my own feelings, too."

Jey's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at your words. He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"I had to get my head right, sweetheart. You know how it is. But I'm back now, ain't I? And I came back for Jimmy 'cause he needed me, just like you need me now." You shook your head, a mixture of frustration and sadness bubbling up within you.

"Jey, you don't get it. I needed you then, too. And it felt like you just left me in the dark. I watched you struggle with Sami, and I wanted to be there for you. But you shut me out. And then you come back, and it's like nothing happened. Like we can just pick up where we left off. And now you're mad at me for doing the same thing?" Your cocky facade slipped off and the pain was now showing on your face as you yelled your feelings at Jey.

"Where were you when I called you? When I comforted Jimmy cause he was worried as hell cause you wouldn't pick up the damn phone! Where were you when I needed you, Jey?" Jey's frown deepened at the raw hurt in your voice, and he took a step closer, reaching out a hand, wanting to touch you, to comfort you, but you took a step back, keeping a distance between you.

"I didn't mean for it to come to this, alright?" Jey's voice was low, strained. "I was dealing with my own shit, tryna sort it out. I thought you would understand like Jimmy."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, , your anger still simmering beneath the surface."Understand what? How you just left without a word? How you didn't give me a chance to support you, to be there for you? I wanted to help, Jey. I wanted to be the one you could lean on. But you shut me out, just like you're doing now."

Jey's face contorted with frustration, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I didn't know how to handle it, okay? I thought I could deal with it on my own. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"But I want to see you like that, I want to be there for you, no matter how tough it gets. That's what love is, Jey." Your eyes widened at the word that left your mouth, quickly backtracking before he could speak. "The love best friends show each other. The love we always show each other." You looked down onto the mat, not wanting to see his face. "But I can't give you that love if you keep shutting me out."

Jey's breath caught at your words, his heart pounding in his chest. Did you really mean it the way he wanted you to mean it? Jey's mind was racing, torn between the fear of losing you and the fear of admitting what he knew was true.

You waited for an answer, and waited and waited and waited until you realized you wouldn't be getting one. After everything you've been through, he couldn't even give you the decencey of a response! You scoffed, turning away from him. "I can't even do this right now, I can see you don't even care about this, about us, about me. So just do me a favor and leave me alone like you've been doing since you came back." You spat at him, your word burning with the hurt in your chest. You turned to leave, but before you could move even one step, Jey's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks. His touch sent a jolt through your body, and you turned to face him, anger and hurt burning in your eyes.

"Please..." Jey whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and longing, his eyes locking onto yours. He was standing so close to you that you could feel the heat of his body, and it was maddening.

"No, we are done here! I gave you a chance to explain yourself, to make things right, but you're just proving my point." You seethed, snatching your wrist from his grasp and dropping your mic on the mat.

Jey's face contorted with pain, his hand still hovering in the air where your wrist had been. "Wait, please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

You shook your head, biting your lip to try and contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill out. "There's nothing else to say, Jey." You looked at him one last time, his guilty expression and puppy dog eyes etched into your memory before turning on your heel and made a beeline for the ropes, desperate to get away from the ring before you caved and let your emotions take over.

"Wait- you ain't gon' walk away from me again!" Jey called from behind you, slipping out the ring and trying to catch up with you. You had been avoiding him forever, and he wasn't gonna let his stupidity cost him the most important person in his life.

You quickened your pace, the fans' cheers drowning in your ears as you made your way up the ramp. You could hear Jey's footsteps getting closer, and you walked even faster, not wanting to see him.

"Just leave me alone!" You shouted over your shoulder, not looking back as you made your way backstage and breezed past the crew members and other wrestlers, ignoring their concerned glances and storming past them. Whatever half baked apology he was gonna spew- you didn't wanna hear it.

But you knew he wouldn't leave you alone, and you spotted an open door to a storage closet and made a split-second decision. You darted inside, hoping he wouldn't see you.

But Jey was fast, and he caught sight of you just as you slipped into the closet. He rushed in after you, his chest heaving from the chase. He pushed the door shut behind him, leaving the two of you in the small, dimly lit space.

"Can't you just leave me be?" You rolled your eyes and tried to push past him, but he blocked your path, his body towering over you.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, ma." Jey whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't let you walk away like this."

You glared up at him, frustration boiling over. "And why not? You've had no problem doing it before, so it should be no problem for you to do it again. So excuse me, but I have better things to do than listen to your empty words." You tried to move past him again, but he blocked you again, making you groan in frustration.

"Move."

"I ain't movin'. Please just listen to me-"

"I gave you a chance and you didn't take it! Now move-"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't care about you!" Jey shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the closet.

"Oh so now you care about me? if you do you would listen to me and leave me alone!"

"Of course I care about you! You're the person I care about the most! The person I love the most"

You pushed at his chest, desperation and anger coursing through you as you poked at his chest, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing, betraying your own words. "Don't say that, Jey. Don't you dare say things you don't mean"

Jey's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, effectively stopping your assault on his chest. He looked down at you, his puppy dog eyes searching yours, his grip on your wrist firm but not hurting.

"You know I ain't ever lie to you, and I never will." His voice was low and filled with raw intensity. "You know me better than anyone. You know how I feel about you, even when I messed up."

You stared into his eyes, and the walls you had built to protect yourself crumbled in an instant. "Jey..." you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing.

Jey took a step closer, his other hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "I'm sorry for everything I did. Everything that hurt you. And I wouldn't hurt you again by lying to you right now."

You shut your eyes, trying to wade off the emotions you always shut yourself from, that part of you you never allowed yourself to let out. This could not be happening, not right now.

"Jey...stop." Jey didn't stop, his thumb continuing to caress your skin. "I can't stop. God, I've tried so fucking hard to, and if I could I would, but I can't." Jey's hand was shaking as he continued to stroke your cheek, his heart and mind in complete turmoil as he tried to express himself, express his emotions.

"Every time you smile at me, every time you laugh at my dumb jokes and take care of my family, every time you hug me and make me feel like I'm worth something,c eveytime you comfort me when I need it... I fall for you all over again." Jey's voice was barely a whisper, his forehead resting against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours. "You're the best part of my life, ma. And I'm sorry, but I can't let you go."

You opened your eyes, and the tears that had been held back spilled over, mingling with Jey's own. "I don't want to let you go either," you admitted, your voice trembling.

Jey's grip on your wrist softened, his hand now tenderly holding yours. He let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him as he heard your words. "Then don't, ma. Please, don't." And with those words, he gripped your face gently and brought his lips down to yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands on the ends of his mullet and practically jumping into the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

The kiss was hard and heated, all your pent up desire and longing coming to a head as you brought him closer to you, teeth clashing as you longed to taste every part of his mouth, his taste familiar and new all at once, intoxicating you and making your head spin. Every movement of his mouth was like an apology, every sigh he broujht out of you a sorry for all the pain he's caused you, his arms squeezing your soft flesh, a silent confession to do better for you, to be better for you.

When he pulled away, his voice was hoarse, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've wanted this for so damn long."

You looked up at him through your lashes, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and desire. "So have I," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I forgive you. I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you too."

Relief washed over Jey at your words, his thumb traced soothing circles on your hip as he looked at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"Then let's stop pretending, ma." He molded his lips against yours, his hands running up and down your waist. You grab the back of his head, deepening the kiss and pulling on his hair, groaning into his mouth when Jey bit your lip, his tongue brushing against yours.

"Best friend, huh? Jey teased as he pulled back slightly, his hair tousled from your eager hands. You grinned playfully, running your fingers through his hair. "Best friend, lover, whatever you want, Jey. I just want you."

Jey's eyes darkened with desire as he looked at you, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you even closer. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that." He whispered, his voice low and seductive.

With a mischievous smile, you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to wait any longer." You trailed kisses down his jawline, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lips.

Jey let out a low, appreciative growl as your lips moved along his jaw, his hands caressing your back, exploring the curves of your body.

"Baby girl," Jey murmured, trying to keep his moans low. "I've missed you so damn much." He leaned in to capture your lips again,the kiss burning with pent up desire and longing that you both have been keeping to yourself. Every desperate meeting of your lips was delicious and everything you imagined.

Your fingers deftly worked to remove Jey's shirt, and his hands trailed down your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn't get enough of you. The closet was small, but Jey made it work as he backed you against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping and kissing with a fiery hunger. You tilted your head to give him better access, relishing the sensation of his warm lips against your skin.

"I've missed you too, Jey," you whispered, your voice filled with longing. His hands moved to your hips, and he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped as he ground against you, and the friction sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you pulled him closer, your kiss growing more fervent, more heated. Jey's hands moved up your thighs, the fabric of your dress hitching higher as he gripped your hips tightly. The sensation of his hardness pressing against your core sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a breathy moan against his lips.

You broke away from the kiss for a moment, gasping for breath as you looked into Jey's eyes, your faces inches apart. "Jey," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you."

Jey's eyes burned with desire as he looked into your eyes, his chest heaving with longing. He didn't need to hear those words twice.

"Then have me, sweetheart," he growled, lowering you to the ground just long enough to remove his remaining clothes before lifting you back up, pressing your back against the wall once more. He held you up with his strong arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, your dress bunched up around your hips. Jey's lips crashed against yours, the kiss wild and passionate as he held you against the wall.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands roaming over his bare, sculpted chest. You could feel the heat of his body, the hard muscles pressing against you, and it sent shivers of desire coursing through you. You nipped at his lower lip, causing him to groan in response, his hips grinding against yours, making you groan when you felt his arousal pressing firmly into you.

Jey's moans and the way his lips devoured yours drove you crazy, and any other day you would've loved the teasing, but not today. You couldn't wait any longer. You needed him, now.

Breaking the kiss again, you whispered, "Jey, please," your voice filled with desperation and longing. His eyes locked onto yours, and he understood exactly what you needed. It was the same feeling he had everytime he looked at you. Without a word, he lowered you gently, making sure you were steady on your feet before guiding you to a nearby table in the closet.

Jey's lips moved from yours to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. He worked his way down your body, his fingers brushing against your clothed clit gently, relishing in the soft gasps and moans he got out from you.

With a hungry look in his eyes, Jey slipped his fingers beneath the delicate lace of your underwear, his touch sending a bolt of pleasure through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against his hand, silently begging for more.

He obliged, his fingers expertly rubbing your clit, making your breath hitch and your moans grow louder. "No teasing, just give me what I need, Jey," you pleaded, your voice shaky with desire. Jey's lips curled into a wicked smile as he continued to work his fingers, his thumb circling your sensitive clit agonizignly slowly, relishing in the whines and moans you gave him as he tortured you He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he reveled in the way your body responded to his touch.

"Jey, I swear to god, if-"

Jey cut you off by speeding up his fingers, making you choke on your words when he circled your clit, slipping another finger inside you

"What were you gon' say?" Jey taunted you, loving to see you like this. You rarely let your composure slip, barely let anyone else take control like this, and he was loving every moment of it. He loved this, the way you responded to his touch, your moans, your vulnerability.

"Answer me, sweetheart. " Jey slowed down his movement for an agonizing moment, never breaking eye contact with you. The heat in his gaze was scorching your skin in the best way possible.

"What were you gonna say?" You struggled to form a coherent sentence, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You tried to grind against his hand, but Jey tightened his grip on your hips and held you in place, enjoying you squirms and toying with you. You tried to grab his hand to make him move, but he kept his grip firm, making you whimper with frustration.

"Come on, baby." Jey eased as he continued to torture you, his fingers moving in a torturous slow rhythm that made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. "You not gon' get what you want till you answer me."

He seemed to be trying everything to get you not to answer though, moving his fingers every time you tried to speak. You tried to muster up any self-control you had left, but it was slipping away with each brush of his fingers against your aching core.

You bit your lip, locking eyes with Jey as you struggled to speak through the overwhelming pleasure. "If you don't stop and make me cum, I'm gonna kill you after this. " You panted out, making Jey chuckle softly, the sound sending a delicious shiver through your already heated body.

"Say my name," he demanded, finally picking up the pace and giving you what you craved. Your fingers left the edge of the table and dug into his shoulders harshly, but he didn't seem to mind, fingers expertly moving inside you and teasing your clit until you were a trembling mess.

"Jey!" you moaned out uncontrollably, your nails digging into his back as again and again and again, until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you slowly went slack in his touch, chasing that heat building up in your body.

Jey could feel you tense, and he added another finger, moving even faster until you were scratching his shoulders. "That's it, baby girl," he growled, his lips finding yours for a searing kiss. "Come for me." His fingers were relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and you couldn't hold back any longer.

With one final desperate moan of his name, you came undone, shutting your eyes as pleasure hit you hard, making you gasp for air and tremble in Jey's arms, his arms and the table behind you the reasons you didn't fall in your wobbly feet. Jey continued to move his fingers gently, his lips pressed against your neck as he whispered sweet, reassuring words in your ear. You let him gently move his fingers against you and help you ride out your climax until you finally pushed his hand away, too sensitive to take it anymore.

You collapsed against the table, his arms wrapped around you, supporting you. His eyes were smoldering as he watched you catch your breath, a satisfied smile on his lips as he licked his fingers, savoring the taste of you.

"Damn, you taste so good, sweetheart." Jey groaned at the sweet taste of your nectar. You gave him a seductive smile in response, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you walked towards him, reaching for the waistband of his pants pulling them down to free his hardened length. Jey hissed in pleasure as your fingers wrapped around him, and he let out a low, guttural groan as you softly stroked his throbbing dick, your touch light and driving him crazy.

You yelped when Jey grabbed your hips, and in one swift motion laid you on the table, the surface cool against your heated skin. He positioned himself between your legs, the sight of that making the heat between your legs grow even more intense.

"You sure you want this?" Jey asked, looking into your eyes for any hesitation or hint that you're lying. He was giving you an out, giving you a final moment to reconsider this, a chance to change your mind. But he knew h if you left him like this it would completely break him, that you guys were already in too deep.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss that wiped all doubts out of his mind, made him focus on the now, on how good your body felt against him, on how the wait was worth it.

When you pulled back for air, your brown honeyed-eyes stared at him with the heart eyes you've always looked at him with but more intense than any other time you've gazed at him, no longer hiding the desire in your eyes you've always felt for him. "I've never wanted anything more than this." You breathed, spilling the words out like you've said them a million times. "I want you."

Jey's heart was stuck in his throat at your words, the words he's been wanting to hear since the first time he laid eyes on you in catering a couple of years ago, when you were in NXT and the face of the women's division back there and he was on the smackdown low with Jimmy trying to make themselves stand out, to prove they belonged to be their and to be tag team champions. It was a chance meeting, you were on Smackdown to make a special appearance promoting your NXT main event match and happened to bump into Naomi while trying to find the locker room, and she was more than happy to help you find it.

When he saw you talking with her, your sparkling smile that made him want to always put it on your face and your laughter ringing in the hallway, he felt his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't get himself to look away from you. There was something about you, your charisma, your beauty, something untangiable that made him want to instantly be around you, learn about you, be a part of your world.

It was like you sensed his stare on you, and you looked away from Naomi and locked eyes with him, and he forgot how to breathe when you gave him a bright smile, moving away from Naomi and walking up to him.

"Hi! You must be Jey, Naomi's already told me so much about you, you're the cute twin, right?" You introduced yourself with a teasing glint in your eye as you extended your hand to him, your voice soft and charming.

"He better be the only cute one to you, I already got the other twin, you better remember that." Naomi glared at you playfully and nudged you, which gave Jey enough time to put on his big boy pants and act like a normal human being. "It's your first day and you already know the truth." Jey smirked, taking your hand and shaking it gently, trying to play it cool despite the way his heart raced. "Yeah, that's me, the cute one."

You giggled, the sound of it making his knees weak, but he managed to stay upright. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Jey. I'm really looking forward to my match here on SmackDown. Naomi's been telling me about how great Smackdown is, and with you here I have no doubt that it is." You grinned at him, your kind words putting him at ease but also making his heart jump out of his chest at the same time. Naomi chuckled at you, already knowing something was up between you and Jey. "You have no idea. Jey, how about you show her around after your matches, make her feel welcome."

Jey internally gave Naomi a death glare, knowing that the look on her face meant no good. But he was also grateful she gave him an excuse to talk to you even more. "Of course, on behalf of the Uso Penetary, I'll be your tour guide." he replied with a charming grin. "But be careful, it can get real ucey in here."

Naomi rolled her eyes at him, while you laughed at his dumb joke, surprising him by linking your arms with his, your smile blinding his eyes and his heart. "Then let's get a head start, and we can get real ucey. Lead the way." You tightened your grip on his arm, ignoring Naomi's teasing look and looking at Jey expectingly. He glanced at your arm that was wrapped around his and looked back at you, a smile making its way onto his face.

"Whatever you say, m'lady." He flicked his hat like he was a cowboy jokingly, making you laugh again before leading you further backstage.

And ever since then, the two of you have been inseparable. You would hang out whenever your schedules were free, talk for hours at a time about anything and everything, your energies matching and his playful nature mirroring your own. You grew closer and closer to each other, and you opened him up in ways he’d never imagined he’d be comfortable with, especially when it came to how much he closed off his heart, but you managed to worm your way into his heart and throw away the key when he finally shared his soul with you.

But as you grew closer, he was afraid to make a move on you, scared he would make you run away, so he settled for being your friend, which was one of the greatest and stupidest things he'd ever done.

Great because you were the sweetest person he had ever fucking met, and the love you showed him was something no one else had ever given him, not even his own family. But stupid because he realized he had already fallen in love with you by the time he figured it out, and now he was in way too deep to tell you.

And now, here you were, looking up at him with those eyes, with those words he'd wanted to hear, and he was starting to wonder if he had dreamt this whole thing, if he was gonna wake up, find himself alone in his bed, with a throbbing hard-on, wishing you were really there. You caressed his cheek, and the warmth of your touch grounded him, confirmed that this was real, that he was right where he wanted to be.

Jey let out a shaky breath, his eyes locked on yours, his lips curling into a smile. "I want you too, baby girl," he whispered, as if he was trying not to wake himself up from a dream.

You smiled back at him, at the words you always dreamed he would say. You brought him into another kiss, but this time it was sweet and slow, like you were pouring everything you felt for each other into it, everything you've held back, finally realizing how far you've come and how far you're willing to go for each other.

Jey's hands moved tenderly over your body, exploring every inch as if committing it to memory as he felt himself already being addicted to the taste of you. He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes.

"I can't believe how damn long it took us to get here," he admitted with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with affection. "But I wouldn't change a thing if it meant I got to be here with you right now.

Your heart softened at his words as you caressed Jey's cheek with your thumb and smiled warmly. "Sometimes the best things are worth the wait."

His smile widened, and he nodded in agreement. "Damn right, baby girl." Jey brought himself closer to you, his eyes filled with the unspoken question you already knew your answer to. You nodded, giving him permission for what you both knew was meant to be.

You both moaned once he entered you, his mouth finding yours in a kiss as he thrust into you, slowly at first, holding back and letting you get used to his length. You breathed out for a minute, waiting for the pain to turn into pleasure and he peppered your face with soft kisses, trying to distract you from the discomfort. After a minute or two you felt yourself relaxing, and you needed him to keep going. You arched your hips, dizzy with your want for him, knowing once he started you'd be an absolute addict for him.

"Jey, please move." You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to have a bit of self-control, but Jey always took away your self-control, made you get out of your own head the only way he could.

"Relax, baby. I got you. Relax." Jey tried to calm you down, a smile making its way on his face at the way you were already begging for him. He thrusted slow and deep, watching your face for every moan and reaction you gave him, your eyes half-lidded and jaw slack with pleasure you never had with anyone else.

"Eyes open, or I'll stop, sweetheart." You forced your eyes open at his command, his dominance making you clench hard around him, and he felt it and smirked, enjoying every bit of control he had over you. Your eyes locked onto his, and you could see his own pleasure overtake him, his brain overflowing with how good you felt on him.

"Good girl," he praised, feeling your tightness around him as he continued to pound into you slowly at first, then speeding up, then slowing down again, driving you even more crazy. You let out a particularly high pitched moan when he hit a certain spot deep inside you, making you clamp a hand over your mouth, suddenly hyper-aware of even though this was secluded, anyone could walk past you at any moment and hear you. But Jey pulled your hand off of your mouth, grabbing your wrists and pinning them gently on the table, and hit that sweet spot in you, making you loudly moan out again.

"Let everyone know who you belong to, baby." Jey whispered in a deep, sexy voice. " Let it out. Tell me how much you've missed me, baby."

You didn't hold back, "I've missed you so damn much, Jey," you moaned, your hands trying and failing to find a grip on anything as your body rocked with the rhythm of Jey's thrusts. "Needed this. Needed you."

Jey thrusted harder into you in response, the sound of your words and the way you moaned his name fueling his encouragement to keep going until you remembered. nothing but his name. "That's it, baby. You're mine," he growled, his possessiveness turning you on even further as he nuzzled and kissed your skin, his lips working their way down your chest, his tongue tracing teasing circles around your hardened nipples. "And I aint going nowhere this time, you stuck with me now." You groaned, instinctively trying to get your hands to cover up your noises but Jey shook his head, tightening his grip on your wrists.

"Don't be shy, baby, let 'em know you're mine," he purred, his hips grinding against yours, setting a relentless pace that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably, no matter how hard you tried to stop your moans Jey brought out every single one of em, his free arm snaking down to your legs and his fingers finding their way between your thighs. Your leg’s quivered even more when he gently played with your clit, a stark contrast to hard his dick was pistoling into your core.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You moaned out with effort, too busy to focus on anything but Jey, Jey, Jey.

"Baby, you can blame me all you want. I’ll take full responsibility." he chuckled against your skin, his breath hot and intoxicating. "But you won't be thinking about that once I'm through with you." He finished his sentence with a powerful thrust that made you cry out his name that proved his point and made you quickly forget about anything other than him.

You felt that familiar sensation building up inside of you, and you could tell Jey was close too. You shut your eyes again, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible.

Jey's fingers went faster, making you open your eyes and throw your head back with a groan. Your eyes snapped open again and the breath was knocked out of you when you met Jey's eyes, the raw desire in his hungry gaze and the way he looked at you like he just wanted to eat you up made you feel like you were coming apart.

"I said keep your eyes open. I ain't gonna tell you again, got that?" You nodded, arching your neck, offering it to him as he continued to trail kisses along your throat, feeling you clench around him even more at his demanding tone.

“Oh, you like that shit, huh?” You couldn't help but let out a soft, sultry moan at his cocky tone as Jey's lips and tongue worked their magic on your sensitive skin. "I love it," you purred, your moans growing louder and louder with each slow but deliberate and delicious thrust.

"I'm yours, Jey, all yours." His lips found their way to your ear, and he bit your earlobe playfully, making you shiver and clench on him even more.

"You’re damn right." he growled. "You've always been mine, baby. It's just taken us a little while to realize it."

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, and his words didn't help the matter, they only pushed you further to the edge. Your walls clenched tightly around his cock, his thrusts speeding up more and more as Jey chased for both your releases.

"Jey," you gasped, your voice strained and needy that you trusted only him to hear. "I'm close. I'm so close."

Jey let out a rough groan against your ear, his movements growing more and more urgent as he chased his own release. "Hold it, baby," he rasped, his voice strained with reaching both your pleasures. "Hold it for me, just a little longer." He quickened his pace, the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin echoing in the small space.

A few tears escaped your eyes as you tried to hold, every muscle in your body tense and trembling. "You’re doing so good, baby," Jey murmured, his own voice shaky with need as he tried to control himself. "Just a little more, sweetheart."

You nodded, our breath hitching as the sensation grew almost unbearable. He thrusted into you one, two, three times, until you were too out of it to count and could barely breathe, sweat glistening on both your bodies.

"Jey, I can't hold on much longer. Please…" You begged, your body on the verge of shattering and your fingers clawing at his back, leaving red scratch marks against his tattooed skin.

Jey was barely holding back himself, his control slipping as he brought his head to the crook of your neck, groaning sexily against your skin. "Go on, baby," he whispered hoarsely, his hips moving erratically as as you were teetering on the edge.

"Let go for me, baby. Let it all out."

His sexy whispers were what pushed you over the edge. Everything turned white, and you saw stars as you came hard, your body shaking from the force of it. You didn't remember anything but the wave of pleasure that washed over you, the way Jey held you through it all, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The feeling of your orgasm and seeing you come undone before him was Jey's undoing. He groaned deeply as he came, closing his eyes and biting your shoulder as he shuddered, releasing inside you and trying not to float away and savor this moment forever, trying to ingrain your bodies, your moans, and the feeling of your tightness around him into his memory forever.

He held you close, both of you riding out your climaxes. You breathed heavily, trying to not slip away and leave this moment. Jey placed tender kisses alongside your neck and shoulder, his hands caressing your back soothingly to bring you back to him.

"I can feel you getting away, come back to me." Jey's soft voice helped you snap back to reality. Your eyes met his, and he was gazing at you with so much love and tenderness that it took your breath away. You couldn't help but bring your lips to his in a tender kiss your hearts pounding in sync as you melted into each other, not wanting to let each other go.

Jey pulled away from the kiss, his eyes locked onto yours as he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and loving. "Hope that the wait was worth it."

You chuckled at his words, leaning in for another sweet kiss. "Oh, it was definitely worth it, Jey. You have your work cut out for you, cause I'm not letting you go now."

Jey's eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness as he held you close, your bodies pressed against each other. "Good, 'cause I'm not planning on going anywhere, baby." He whispered, sealing his promise with a kiss. You grabbed the back of his head, deepening the kiss, not getting enough of his addicting taste, and when he slipped his tongue between your lips, you welcomed him eagerly.

Jey pulled away before things had gotten too heated. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath.

"As much as I want to, if I kiss you again we won't be leaving this closet anytime soon," he said with a soft chuckle. You let out a breathy laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"You're right," you admitted, your fingers gently tracing along Jey' s jawline. "It's not my fault that you're so irresistible."

Jey grinned at your words, nuzzling your nose affectionately. "I can say the same thing about you sweetheart. But we need to go or Jimmy will call the cops looking for us if he notices how long we’ve been gone.” You pouted, but reluctantly nodded and Jey moved off of you, making you hold in a whine at the emptiness. You stood up, or tried to- almost falling over if it weren’t for Jey quickly catching you from eating dust.

“Damn, I fucked you that good, huh? Jey chuckled cockily, steading you on your feet. "They don't call me ucey jucey for nothing baby.

You giggled at his cockiness. "You definitely did, Mr. Uso." You leaned in to kiss him again before leaning away from him and putting on your clothes, him doing the same with a smug grin on his face.

“What are you smiling for?” You asked once the both of you were dressed, his hand outstretched for you. Jey's smirk never faded as he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I’m smiling cause now I can officially call you my girl. Before it was just a matter of time, baby girl, but now it's official." He brought your hand to his lips, making you smile uncontrollably when he kissed the back of it.

"And you're my man, and you better not forget it." You interlaced your fingers with his, letting Jey lead you out the closet, his hand squeezing yours as you checked if the coast was clear before yanking him out, making him giggle at the force you used.

"Damn, you tryna take me out before I even take you out?" Jey teased, his laughter filling the hallway as you playfully punched his arm.

"No, I'm making sure no one sees us so we don't get in trouble with the higher ups, dumbass." You punched his arm again, making him chuckle even more. "I can't believe how much of an ass you are."

Jey feigned offense, putting a hand over his heart as you both continued down the hallway. "Hey, I'm a gentleman, baby girl."

You rolled your eyes, but there was an affectionate smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman, 'ucey jucey'." Jey grinned, unfazed by your teasing. He was used to it, making fun of him was one of your love languages.

"Well, you're the one who can't get enough of this 'ucey jucey,' so I must be doing something right." You went to punch him again, but this time he dodged it, grabbing your other hand and holding it in his, his grin turning into a serious expression as he looked at you with genuine affection in his eyes.

"But I want to be a gentleman to you, and treat you right, y'know?" Jey's voice softened as he spoke, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "I wanna take you out, give you everything you deserve, be the man you deserve, if you'll let me." You smiled at his words, feeling your heart swell with warmth.

"Of course I'll let you, Jey. There's no one else I'd want to be with." You leaned in and gave him a sweet, lingering kiss. ""I know you'll treat me right."

Jey smiled against your lips at your words, returning the kiss with the same level of tenderness. When he pulled back, he cupped your cheek with his hand and looked deeply into your eyes. "I'm gonna do my damn best to be the man you deserve, baby girl." You couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across your face as you looked back at Jey. "And I'm gonna do my best to be the woman you deserve, Jey." You gave him another kiss, your hearts full with happiness with the love you showed each other.

"But seriously, we gotta leave before we get caught making out in the hallway." You whispered as you teared yourself away from Jey's lips. Jey chuckled softly and reluctantly pulled away from you. "Yeah, I don't wanna be giving nobody a free show when they don't deserve it."

You giggled and let go of his hand and grabbed his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. He raised his eyebrow, and you leaned into him before explaining. "Let's not tell anyone right now… they'll probably guess why we were gone for so long. But I still want you to hold me, so this is a win win."

Jey grinned and held you close as you walked together, his arm draped over your shoulders. "That's my smart girl." You grinned at that, you would never get sick of him calling you his girl.

As you guys made your way to the bloodline's Locker room, you passed Liv in the hallway. She wiggled her eyebrows, giving you an 'I told you so' look that you responded to with a wink, making her giggle. She exaggeratingly waved to Jey, making you both chuckle as you continued down the hallway, your secret safe for now.

Jey let you go when you arrived in front of the locker room, his hand on the small of your back guiding you in the room burning your skin. Jimmy was sitting on the couch and Roman was seated in his chair, looking up at the noise. His piercing stare made you feel like he was staring directly into your soul, like he could see right through you.

"You were right out there about the Bloodline being on top- and the only way we can stay on top is if we are united." Roman's stare never left you, his glare suffocating all the air out of the room. But you were used to it, being apart of the bloodline meant having to deal with Roman at his best, and mostly at his worst.

"We can't stay on top if we aren't united. So is whatever animosity between you and Jey settled?" You met his hard glare with one of your own, but Jey's hand on your back made you turn to him.

"It's settled, uce." You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, he never interrupted Roman's briefings before. Roman turned his glare to Jey, his eyes flickering to his hand on your back. You could feel the tension between the two of them.

"I asked her." Roman then turned to you, and his gaze bore into you with intensity. "Is it settled?" You met Roman's penetrating stare and nodded firmly, not breaking eye contact. "It's settled, Roman." Roman's gaze held yours for a few more seconds, as if he was searching for any sign of deception. Satisfied with your response, he finally nodded, his expression relenting just a fraction.

"Good. That's what I like to hear." He gestured you to sit, and you took a seat, Jey sitting beside you, his eyes never leaving Romans until you nudged him, and he turned his attention back to you.

"Alright, let's get back to our game plan..." Roman's voice filled the room, but your mind was only half there as Jey's hand trailed up your back, rubbing slow circles that warmed you up.

After the meeting was over, Roman allowed everyone to disperse, but when Jey wrapped an arm around you to leave, Roman stopped Jey with a stern look. “Jey, I need to talk with you for a minute.”

Jey whipped around to face Roman, his expression guarded when he looked at him, and you couldn’t school what he was thinking. “Then talk to me.”

Romans eyes flickered to you and Jimmy before meeting Jey’s gaze, his voice dropping lower. "Alone."

Jey exchanged a quick glance with you, and you nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"It's okay, Jey. I’m not going anywhere.” Jey hesitated, his gaze shifting to you and Roman before nodding, giving your hand a final squeeze before turning to Roman. “Let’s talk, uce.” You watched Jey and Roman walk away, a knot of worry forming in your stomach.

Jimmy sensed your concern and moved closer to you, giving you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout them, Roman ain’t mad, he just making sure everything’s good.”

You smiled back at him, his words reassuring you somewhat. Jimmy then teasingly nudged you, wiggling his eyebrows. “You and Jey made up real good, huh? Ya’ll were gone for a long time.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and chuckled, trying not to blush. “Whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it. We just talked it out, that’s all we did.”

Jimmy smirked, giving you another playful nudge. “Sure, just talkin’. I know that look, and it ain’t just from talking.”

You swatted his arm at his words, making him yelp and pout. as he rubbed his arm. "Alright, alright, damn you can hit."

You laughed at how dramatic he was being, thankful he lightened the mood up.

"Okay, okay, no need for violence," he teased, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But seriously, I'm happy you guys worked things out. You and Jey, you're good for each other."

You smiled warmly at him, touched by his words. "You really think that?" Jimmy nodded, his expression sincere and honest.

"Yeah, I do. I've been by Jey's side since we were babies, and I ain't never seen him ever smile the way he do when he's with you. You make him happy and that's all I ever want for my brother."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Jimmy's words, and you brought him into a hug, hoping he felt how much you cared for him through how tight you were hugging him.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I want to keep making him happy too. He hugged you just as tight, patting your back in a brotherly manner, smiling into you. "You're welcome , uce. You're family. Just keep making my brother happy, and we're all good."

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you pulled back, grinning at Jimmy. "I'll try my best, but if you become a little less of an ass I I think that would help too."

Jimmy laughed, giving you a playful shove. "Ay, now you asking for too much." The two of you laughed, and it was at that moment that Roman and Jey returned, walking out of the office and joining you in the room.

Roman's expression was composed, and when Jey glanced at you, his face was unreadable, and you couldn't see what he was feeling. But he couldn't hide his feelings from his twin when he looked at him.

Jimmy gazed at him, and a silent communication passed between them, and Jimmy nodded at Jey as if he understood something that you didn't.

Roman's voice broke through the tension. "Everyone understands how important it is that the Bloodline remains strong. No more arguing, no more disagreements, no more room for doubts, or there will be consequences. Everyone got that?"

You all nodded, and he seemed satisfied until he turned back to Jey, glare back on his face. "Did you get that, Jey?" Jey met his gaze with an equally fierce glare, reluctantly nodding. "I got that." Roman held Jey's gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, seemingly content with the response.

"Alright then. You're all free to go, Tribal Chiefs orders."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you left the room, Jey and Jimmy following behind.

Jey's hand found its way around your shoulder once again, bringing you close to him as you walked down the hallway.

"I can hear you thinking, babe." Jey commented, his voice low and soothing as he leaned in closer to you. "Everything's fine, trust me. He was just tryna sort me out, and we're all good now."

You sensed there was something more to the conversation, but you didn't want to push, you knew he'd come to you when he was ready. "I trust you, if you say it's fine, then it's fine."

Jey smiled at your response, a genuine and affectionate smile. He brought you closer to his side, rubbing up and down your arm. "Thank you for understanding , sweetheart. I don't want you worrying about any of this."

You leaned into him, giving him a bright smile. "Of course, Jey." You grinned at him before seeing the exit and realizing you didn't have your bags on you. "Can ya'll wait up for me though? I need to get my stuff from the ladies locker room."

Jey nodded, his hand still warm and comforting on your arm. "No problem, babe. Take your time, we'll be right here." You gave both of them a dazzling smile before leaving. as soon as you were out of earshot Jimmy shot Jey a confused glare. "Why you ain't tell her the truth?"

Jey let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "This are finally good between us again, and I aint' wanna stress her out, she's got enough on her plate as it is. I gotta do what I gotta do to protect her, no matter what. I ain't mind taking Roman's anger for her, no way in hell I'ma let him put his hands on her."

Jimmy sighed, studying Jey's expression. "She's gon' be pissed at you for taking the brunt of Roman's shit, you know that? She ain't gonna like it if she finds out you're keeping this stuff from her."

Jey's jaw tightened, knowing his brother was right. He didn't want to hide things from you, but he also didn't want to put any unnecessary stress on you. You didn't deserve that. "I know, Jimmy. But I'll figure it out. Right now, I just need to keep her safe."

Jimmy had a worried look on his face as he clasped his brother's shoulder. "Just be careful, Jey. You know how stubborn and protective she can be. When she finds out, she's ain't gonna be happy."

Jey bit his lip, his gaze distant. He knew he was walking a fine line, but in his heart, he believed he was doing what was best for you. "Then I'll make right with her when the time is right. But for now, I need to protect her." He let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped. "And maybe take the heat for a while, so she doesn't have to."

Jimmy understood where his brother was coming from, he truly did, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He knew things might go south once you found out about it, and he didn't want you and Jey to go to a bad place. he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He gave Jey's shoulder a supportive squeeze, making him look at him, his eyes filled with concern.

"Look, uce, I get why you're doin' this, but she gon' find out sooner or later, and she deserves to know the truth. You're just gonna have to be honest with her, no matter how hard it is."

Jey let out a deep breath, his brother's words sinking in. He knew Jimmy was right, and he couldn't keep this from you forever. "I know, Jimmy." He admitted, a sense of resignation in his voice. "I'll tell her, when the time is right. But for now, I need to protect her. She's been through enough."

Jimmy nodded, squeezing Jey's shoulder once more. "Just don't wait too long, uce, or it'll be too late by the time you tell her."

Jey absorbed his brother's words, a serious expression on his face. He knew his brother was right, he couldn't put off telling you forever, but for now he needed to shield you from any harm, all means necessary. "I won't, Jimmy. I promise."

Jimmy knew his brother was telling the truth, and with that he nodded, squeezing his shoulder one last time before dapping him up.

They heard the clacking of your heels and turned around, seeing you with your bags walking up to them. You grinned at them as you approached. "Thanks for waiting, guys. Ready to go?"

Jey nodded, grabbing one of your bags and slinging it over his shoulder with ease. "Of course, babe. Let's get you home." He looked back at Jimmy. "You coming with us or doing your own thing?"

Jimmy shook his head, giving you a warm smile. "I'm gonna head out and grab some food, uce. You guys have fun."

"Be safe, Jim!"

"Ya'll too. No funny business while I'm not around!" Jimmy yelled out as he went the other way, making you stick out the middle finger at him, making both Jimmy and Jey burst out laughing.

As Jey linked your arm with his as you both made your way out of the arena, he knew all he wanted was you like this, in his arms, with him, no matter what. You made him smile, made everything in his life feel better, made every moment of hell on earth turn into a heaven designed only for him.

And he knew he was taking a risk, keeping things from you, keeping the anger away from you, but every time he thought like that he remembered your cries that night in the hotel, the anguish on your face that he wanted nothing more to take away from you.

And if keeping things from you meant you'd never face that anguish again, that he'd be able to keep that smile on your face for as long as he could, he would do it again and again and again as long as you kept smiling at him like the world was in his eyes.

He'd just hope you'd forgive him for it.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Moment Five

"I thought we talked about shutting each other out sweetheart." Jey sighed across the room as he watched you fix up your hair in the mirror, his gaze locking with yours in the reflection.

"We talked about you not shutting me out, not the other way around." You continued to fix your hair, trying not to look at him, making him sigh again.

"It goes both ways, sweetheart. You said we need to communicate better, but you ain't talking to me." Jey walked over to you, his body pressing against you as he stood behind you, his arms encircling your waist. You tried to move out of his arms and ignore his warm body against yours, but he tightened his grip on you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"What is there to talk about? I lost, that's it." You snipped, continuing brushing your hair until Jey's hand slid the brush gently from your hand.

"Try again, and this time tell me the truth." You huffed, trying not to look at him and ignore his captivating gaze in the mirror. "I am telling the truth. What more is there is to talk about? I moved on from it, and you should to." Jey planted a gentle kiss on your neck at your words, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"I can't move on until you can. And you can lie to everyone else all you want, but you can't lie to me sweetheart." he whispered, his voice laced with concern.

You finally turned to face him, meeting his deep, searching eyes. You saw the worry and love in them, and it tugged at your heart. "I let you down.... I let everyone else down. You saw what happened, I let that bitch Bianca take it...." Your voice wavered slightly, and you breathed deeply, trying to compose yourself. Jey was patient, kissing at your neck while he waited for you to find the words to describe your pain. "I failed… you know it, the fans know it, and Roman knows it.." You remembered the night all too well.

It was Night of Champions, and you and Bianca were putting on a classic, reversing moves left and right and the crowd was on their feet.

You had Bianca right where you wanted her, her laying on the ground completely helpless, with you smirking at her, ready to finish her. You climbed the turnbuckle, ready to hit your finisher on her and make her regret ever stepping up to you and challenging you for your title.

Then, out of nowhere, Bayley came out of the crowd, hitting you with a steel chair and throwing you harshly into the ring mat, making you hit the mat hard, your back arching in pain. You and her had been in a on and off feud for months, but even you didn't see this coming.

The ref didn't see it, but Bianca did, and she capitalized on it, picking you up in the K.O.D and pinning you for the three count, the bell ringing echoing through the arena.

When you came to the back after, ignoring everyone else's congratulations for how good your match was. You went inside the locker room, and Roman's expression in the ring mirrored your own. Disappointment, frustration, and perhaps a hint of anger flashed across his face. And you felt the same way.

And Jimmy kicking him in the face after he was finally fed up with Roman's bullshit didn't make the situation any better. You pushed aside your own emotions to calm Roman and Solo down, and any inner turmoil you had was shrunken down when you saw Jey's red eyes and his body shaking from all the emotions and adrenaline racing through him. You held him then, whispering sweet nothings and leading him to the locker room.

And you held him throughout the night, running your fingers through his hair and letting him hold you so tight you felt your skin against his start to bruise. He didn't say anything, but brought you on top of him and buried his face into your shoulder, trying to shield himself from the outside world. You held him in the darkness, comforting him in a way only you could, seeing him in a way only he would allow you to.

And in the morning, when the rays of dawn began to filter through the cracks in the curtains, and it was time to get back on the road again, Jey tried to do the same for you, but you didn't let him. You could handle it yourself, Jey was more important.

You simply brushed the hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek, letting him hold onto you a little more until you had to leave for the airport. And yeah, coping by yourself wasn't the smartest thing to do, but you've dealt with losses by yourself before, so you could do it again.

Except Jey wasn't letting you handle it by yourself. He would try to coax you into opening up, in the morning and at night, in the quiet moments in between. But you'd push him away, telling him that you were fine, that you needed to focus on getting back on track.

Jey's voice brought you back to the present, his fingers gently tracing along your jawline, his touch grounding you. "Baby, you can't keep blaming yourself for stuff you can't control. We talked about this."

You bit your lip, biting so hard that it stung, just like your heart was stinging.

“But I could have controlled it. I should have seen it coming, Jey. I should have been prepared. But I wasn’t. And I let everyone down because of it.” You shut your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction.

You pushed out of Jey’s arms, sliding down and leaning on the edge of the locker. The cold metal bit into your palms, but it was grounding in a different way.

Jey slid down next to the locker with you. He let the silence stretch for a moment, knowing how bad this was eating at you and that sometimes words were not enough. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and looked up at him when his hand gently hovered yours on the floor, and you gave him a nod, letting him intertwine his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles against your skin to try and get you to open up.

As you looked at him, the floodgates of your emotions threatened to burst. You took a deep breath, Jey's grip on your hand the only thing keeping you in check.

"It's just... I feel like I failed, Jey," you admitted, steeling yourself to composure. "And don't lie to me and say I didn't, because I saw it in Roman's face, in Jimmy's and Solo's eyes, I saw it in your expression." You fiddled with Jey's fingers, trying to find solace in his touch. "I hate that feeling, Jey. It's like a weight in my chest that won't go away. No matter what I do, it won't go away."

You choked on the last few words, not being able to speak. Jey thought that was enough for you, and he reached out, gently pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you, allowing you to bury your face in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent and gripping onto him for dear life.

His hands rubbed your back as he let you cling to him, his voice soft and reassuring. "I ain't never gonna not be proud of you. And I know that night didn't go your way, and trust me, that night was tough for all of us. But what's tougher is seeing you beat yourself up over it."

Jey's lips softly pressed against your neck, his kisses tender and comforting. "It wasn't your fault, and i'on want you to keep thinking that it is. You did your best, stole the show and it ain't your fault you didn't get the dub, it's Bayley's. And you'll get your lick back on her, but you gotta take care of yourself first if you wanna do that."

Your grip on Jey loosened your body relaxing in his embrace at his calming words. He spoke with such love, such sincerity that even your overthinking irrational brain had to listen. You let his words wash over you, letting them seep into your soul and psyche, let them help you breathe for the first time in what felt like forever. He always had a way of bringing you out of your own head, understanding you in a way that few did. And in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

You lifted your head from his neck, meeting Jey's gaze, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "I'm just… scared, Jey. Scared that I'll never be good enough, that I'll always be haunted by that one loss," you confessed, your voice quivering with vulnerability. "Scared that I'll let you down again."

Jey's eyes softened even more at your confession, and he tenderly brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His thumb traced along your cheekbone, his touch tender as hebrushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Baby, you are good enough. You've proven it every single time you've given it your all, every time you step into that ring. All them other ladies can't compare to you, and that's the truth."

He held your gaze as his thumb traced along your cheekbone, his touch gentle and reassuring and his brown eyes filled with love and understanding. "As for letting me down, that can never happen. You've been holding us up, sweetheart. You're the reason we're all still standing strong. And no matter what happens out there, win or lose, you're still the one I'm proud to call mine."

You had a watery smile tugging at your lips, your heart swelling with love for Jey. You cupped his face and brought him into a kiss, trying to convey all your unspoken emotions through the tender kiss.

He responded in kind, melting into you and giving you a sweet kiss trying to convey how much he graved for you through the gentle press of his lips. When you pulled away, your breaths mingling in the small space between you, you couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, Jey. I needed that, needed you."

Jey smiled back at you, his eyes shining with affection. "You don't have to thank me, sweetheart. I'm always here for you," he whispered, his voice warm and reassuring.

It made you want to kiss him again in thanks, but before you could a knock sounded at the door, and a loud voice came from outside the room. "Your Tribal Chief has brought me to inform you our segment starts in 5 minutes. So if I were you, I'd get a hurry on, cause he is not in a mood to be bothered and crossed."

You moved off of Jey, rolling your eyes at Paul's annoying voice. "We'll be there Paul, don't worry. Give me a minute." You called out, sharing a look with Jey as you dusted yourself off, trying not to look like you were on the verge of crying or sucking face with Jey just a minute ago.

No one knew about your relationship, not even Jimmy. The two of you wanting to take it slow, and you wanted to keep it that way for the time being. No meddling, no one in your business, no pressure. Sure, it was hard when one of you got jealous, but the two of you knew each other in and out and knew when to reassure the other.

Jey stood up, his hand gently squeezing yours before he moved towards the door, opening it and giving Paul a look of annoyance that had you internally giggling.

"We're coming, Paul. You don't have to babysit us." Jey grumbled, letting you walk ahead of him.

"Good, because I have more important things to do than babysitting you fiend of besties." Paul huffed, leading you all to the ramp where Solo and Roman were waiting, Solo leaning against the barricade and Roman pacing back and forth, an irritated expression etched on his face.

"Finally," Roman grumbled, eyeing you both. "Let's get this over with and make them acknowledge me."

You exchanged a glance with Jey and Solo before moving into position with everybody else, putting on your best smile for the camera as Roman's music hit. You strutted confidently as you all made your way down to the ring, the roar of the crowd echoing around you as you all posed for the cameras. Jey held open the ropes for you as you stepped into the ring, his eyes never leaving you.

"Acknowledge me!" Roman began, his authoritative voice capturing the attention of the crowd.

"We all saw what happened at Night of Champions, other's rose to the occasion, while other's failed to rise up to their expectations." You shied away from the jab and pointed look Roman was giving you. Jey noticed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, glaring at Roman. You leaned into him, grateful for his silent support.

"But other's decided to try and drag people down with them into the descent of their own failures, and that is exactly what Jimmy did to me and Solo. He betrayed me, he betrayed Solo, he betrayed all of us! The people who helped him get to the top are the same people he didn't hesitate to throw under the bus!" Roman's eyes darkened with anger as he spoke, shoulders bunched with anger.

He turned to you, Jey and Solo, pointing at each one of you. "Solo, your own brother cost you that tag team match. Your own older brother!"

He turned to you, pointing at you furiously. "He betrayed you too, stabbed you in the back without a second thought, all because he was jealous he didn't have a title."

He finally turned to Jey, who was silently brooding and glared up at Roman when he turned to him. "And Jey… your own twin brother left you, hurt you, left you hanging all because he was jealous of our success." Jey's grip on your shoulder tightened, his jaw clenching as he stared Roman down.

"But don't worry, that will all change. Jimmy will regret what he did, will regret trying to bring the Bloodline down for his own agenda. But most importantly, he will regret messing with the Tribal Chief. And trust me, I will make him acknowledge me-"

Jimmy's music suddenly cut through the arena, interrupting Roman's speech. The look on Roman's face was downright furious. Jimmy stormed down the ring, that same look of fury in his eyes as he entered the ring.

"I am sick and tired of your bullshit, Roman," Jimmy spat, standing toe to toe with Roman. "You keep lying, and lying, and lying! You are the only cause of all this chaos. You only have yourself to blame for what happened. Cause you know what?"

Jimmy locked eyes with him, anger running through his veins. "I don't regret a single thing I did that night. And you wanna know why?"

Roman's voice was laced with venom, his nostrils flaring as he stared down his brother. "Why is that, Jimmy?"

Jimmy leaned in closer, their faces inches apart, his voice low and full of conviction. "Because I had to stop you from dragging everyone down with you and having you becoming even more of a narrcastic asshole that you are. You were willing to hurt us all for your own damn ego, Roman. You've been doing that for 3 fucking years, and you know what? I got sick of it!"

Roman's glare bore into Jimmy, and you could practically feel the seething anger radiating off him. "You've always been the weak link, Jimmy. I've done nothing but carry this family on my back, give you all the opportunities you have. And this is how you repay me? By turning your back on your own blood?"

Jimmy chuckled angrily, not backing down from Roman."Carry this family? You are delusional as always, uce. You never cared about anyone but yourself. You only care about being the 'Tribal Chief' and having everyone bow down to you. Well, I'm not gonna do that anymore. I'm not gonna let you control us, use us, and then toss us aside when we don't do what you want us to do.

The two men stared at each other with fiery intensity, Roman's fists clenched at his sides, and Jimmy's knuckles white from the force of his grip.

"You were always jealous, weren't you?" Roman asked mockingly, Jealous that I was always the one to lead, the one to make the decisions, the one to take the Bloodline to the top. You never had the guts to do what it takes, Jimmy. You were always content being in my shadow, following my lead. You never even had the guts to be my right hand man like Jey."

Roman gestured to Jey, who looked conflicted as he stood nearby, torn between his loyalty to both his brothers. "You were jealous you never had the power like my right hand woman."

Roman pointed at you, and your own conflicted eyes, his words dripping with spite.

"But you know what, Jimmy? You can never be me. You'll always be the lesser Uso, the one who couldn't measure up." Jimmy's face contorted with a mix of rage and hurt at his words.

"You're wrong, Roman. I ain't jealous of you. I'm disgusted by you. You've done nothing but bring us all down to bring you up, and sooner or later everyone else will see it too." He gestured to you, Jimmy and Solo, you and Jey having a smiliar expression of concern on your face while Solo had his typical stoic look on his, arms clenched like he was ready for a fight.

Roman followed his gaze, looking at the three of you for a long moment before turning back to Jimmy and bursting out in laughter, a mocking and humorless sound that echoed through the arena.

"You really think they'll leave me for you, Jimmy? You really think they'll choose you over the Tribal Chief, over the one who's been leading this family to greatness?" Roman laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. "How about you guys tell him what you really think? Tell him what a mistake he's making." Roman turned to you, Jey, and Solo, his gaze piercing through you all.

You spoke up first, trying not to look at Jimmy's pleading gaze but it was futile. "Look... Jimmy, I get why you're mad. The titles, the pressure, it's all getting to you. But…" You looked conflicted, your heart torn in two different directions. "Roman is right. You made your choice, and now you have to live with it."

Jimmy looked like he gotten slapped in the face at your words, his hurt showing on his face making your heart clench. Roman started cackling again, the sound making your heart ache even more.

Jimmy's eyes bore into yours, wounded and betrayed. "I thought you'd understand out of all people," he muttered, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I thought you had my back."

Roman smirked, patting you on the back and giving you a proud smile. "You see, she sees the truth you are blinding yourself from. What about you Jey? How do you feel?"

Jey stepped up, his heart heavy as he gazed at his twin, his pleading eyes filled with sorrow. Jey turned back to you, sharing a glance with you that spoke more than words could before turning back to his brother.

"Jimmy, you know I love you. And you know I always have your back. But I also have Roman's back too." He extended his hand to Roman, who took it smiling, dapping him up. Jimmy watched on with an ache in his heart. "He's the one who made me , the one who turned me into main event Jey Uso!" Jey exclaimed, Roman patting him on the back proudly.

"And now… you're out of the bloodline." You and Jey exchanged one more look, and you knew what you needed to do.

"And I'm out too!" Roman's smirk dropped, but before he could speak he was getting super kicked by Jey, sending him sprawling to the mat.

Solo moved quickly, trying to attack Jey but you super kicked him in the jaw, sending him stumbling back. A smile made its way onto Jimmy's face as he joined the fight, helping you beat down Solo as Jey speared Roman, your mind finally at peace as you finally left the Bloodline, leaving the one person that always tormented you, getting your sweet sweet revenge.

You grabbed a mic and walked towards a fallen Roman, who was lying on the mat, breathing heavily and clutching his stomach. You grabbed at his hair harshly and tugged , forcing him to look up at you.

"You thought I forgot everything that you put me through, Roman?" you spat, your voice dripping with venom. "All those years of manipulation, of making me feel small and insignificant? Well, guess what? It ends now." Your grip on his hair tightened as Jimmy and Jey looked on in satisfaction at Roman finally getting what he deserved.

"I choose my family, and you were never a part of it. And now you are all alone, and I'm out the Bloodline, " you declared, letting go of him in disgust and throwing the mic to the ground. You felt arms wrap around you, and looked up to see Jey smiling down at you with absolute pride in his eyes as you finally took control, finally stood up to the man who had abused him for months. Abused and tormented you for months. Jey felt a sink sense of glee watching him be hurt like this, hurt like the way he used to hurt and belittle you.

Jimmy hugged you both when you all walked up the ramp, unshed tears of relief in his eyes as you were squeezed by both men so tight you could barely breathe.

"We did it." Jimmy whispered into your skin as he squeezed you tighter. You nodded back, just as emotional. You did it. Finally fucking did it. You stood up to the most, abusive manipulative and emotionally draining man you'd ever fucking met.

Jey was on your other side, his smile never fading as he held onto you both. "We're free, uce. We're finally free."

The crowd's cheers echoed in your ears, but you could barely hear it over the poouding of your own heart. As you held up the ones, basking in the moment, you finally felt that weight on your heart release, and you realized that it wasn't you putting that weight on yourself, it was Roman.

And as Roman glared at you from across the ring, you promised yourself you'd get rid of that weight, no matter what.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ay, all your shots on me, uce!" Jimmy's rambunctious voice yelled throughout the bar as you danced, the music pulsating you and the alcohol coursing through your veins as you danced with Liv, her arms around your waist as you moved to the beat with her, giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.

After your revenge on Roman, Jimmy insisted on the three of you going to a local bar to celebrate and let off some steam, and lord knows you deserved to let off some steam. You and Jey needed no convincing, you ordering an Uber and heading straight to the liveliest bar you could find, inviting Liv to tag along with you.

The bar was dimly lit, with neon signs casting colorful glows across the worn wooden floors. Jimmy was already drunk as hell, dancing all over the tables and acting like a complete goof. You and Liv were already a bit tipsy, her insistence on taking a shot every time Jimmy did something stupid being the cause of that.

And Jey couldn't take his eyes of you, tipsy as well but not as much as you and Liv as he sat back at a corner booth, a contented smile on his face as he kept an eye on his twin and watched you enjoy yourself. You deserved this, to let loose and have a good time after everything you'd been through.

Liv wrapped her arms around you, bringing you to a different section of the bar and grabbing you both more fruity drinks you couldn't get enough of.

"I'm so glad you finally got rid of that toxic asshole and finally decided to act your age and party!"

You giggled, the warmth of the alcohol making you feel lighter than air. "I'm glad too. And I finally decided to take your advice and enjoy my twenties before I end up an old women like you."

Liv playfully gasped, clutching her heart dramatically." Hey, I'm not that old!" Liv protested with a mocking glare, making the two of you burst out in giggles. "But seriously, it's about time you let loose and had some fun. You've earned it."

You smiled at her words, clinking your glass with hers. "You're right. Cheers to new beginnings!" You toasted, the clinking of your glasses ringing through the air. Liv grinned back at you, her eyes sparkling with happiness for you.

"Cheers to that!" She cheered with you, taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes wandered around the bar before finally meeting your own, a mischievous glimmer in them. "And speaking of having some fun… Jey has been eyeing you all night, y'know?"

You felt your cheeks warm up as you followed Liv's gaze back to Jey, who was still sitting in the corner booth, watching you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine that you both loved and hated at the same time. Did he have to make it so obvious?

You turned back to her, a nervous smile on your face. "You're imagining things," you replied with a nervous giggle, taking another sip of your drink. "He's probably just making sure I'm not drunk out of my ass. Y'know, typical best friend duties."

Liv narrowed her eyes at you, mockingly accusing. "Uh-huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing Liv had a talent for picking up subtle cues and interpreting them in not-so-subtle ways. You couldn't risk her finding out about you and Jey, even though she was drunk she was still Liv and could figure it out at the drop of a hat. So you decided to change the subject.

"Alright, Sherlock Holmes, what about you? Anyone caught your eye lately?" you teased, trying to divert the attention away from you.

Liv smirked, taking a sip of her drink. "Maybe… maybe not. But that's a story for another time. Right now, it's all about you and Jey. Seriously, though, you should talk to him. He's been giving you that 'I'm gonna jump your bones' look all night."

You choked on your drink, eyes wide. "Liv! Don't say things like that!"

She burst into laughter, slapping your back gently. "I'm not lying though! Ya'll have mad sexual tension, and it's honestly adorable. Just talk to him, okay? Trust me, it'll be worth it."

You tried to hide your smile, knowing you and Jey already solved that problem, but she and anyone else didn't need to know that.

"Y'know what? If you won't call him over, I will." Your eyes widened in amusement and laughter as Liv waved at Jey, beckoning him to come over. Jey looked a little startled but then gave you a knowing smile before excusing himself from the booth and making his way over to where you and Liv were standing.

"How are you fine ladies doing?" Jey's voice was smooth as he not so subtly checked you out, making you internally groan as Liv clocked it, making her practically beam in excitement.

“We're doing good Jey. But this one," Liv wrapped her arm around your waist, "wants to jump your bones just as much as you want to jump hers.”

You blushed furiously, shooting Liv a playful glare. Jey, on the other hand, seemed amused by the whole situation. He leaned in closer to you, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Is that so?"

You tried to compose yourself from your boyfriend's teasing, ignoring Liv's laughter from next to you. "Maybe. You need to show me your moves before we can confirm anything though."

Jey's playful smirk widened, his hand gently grazing your lower back. "Oh, I'm more than happy to demonstrate, sweetheart." You giggled, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling within you. "Alright, let's see what you've got, baby."

You walked away with Jey, Liv's laughter fading into the background as the two of you made your way to the dance floor, Jey's arms making their way around your waist , pulling you close.

Jey's body grinded against yours, the music thumping in your ears as he danced in sync with you. Your body fit into his perfectly, moving together as if you'd been dancing like this forever.

"See, this isn't so bad, isn't it?" Jey whispered into your ear as he turned you, his hands sliding down your sides. You gave him a faux glare, rolling your eyes playfully.

"I'm gonna kill you after this. Are you trying to get the entire roster to know about us?"

Jey chuckled, his breath hot against your neck. "Relax, babe. I just wanna have fun with my girl. And no one's paying attention to us, trust me."

You raised an eyebrow and shot him a teasing grin. “Mhm, that’s the reason youre being so touchy. Not because you got territorial seeing everyone here and want to claim me as yours?”

Jey's playful smirk never wavered as he continued to move with you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Maybe a lil’ bit of both.” He admitted, his voice laced with desire. His hands slid sensually down your sides as the music pulsed around you. “But can you blame me? You look absolutely stunning tonight. Can’t help but want to show you off a bit.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, he always had a way of making you feel special no matter what: it was one of the things you loved about him. "You're such a smooth talker," you teased, letting your fingers playfully trace along his jawline.

Jey's eyes twinkled with a mix of mischief and affection. "Only for you, babe," he whispered, turning you around once more before pulling you close again.

Everyone else faded away as his lips ghosted against yours, his eyes darkening with a silent question, the alcohol making your brain fuzzy and bold. Jey’s fingers grazed across your lower back, the lights of the bar reflecting in his dark brown eyes, the colors dancing in his eyes making it impossible to look away from him.

“Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” Jey asked, his voice a gentle rumble against your ear. You gazed at him, not caring about anyone or anything else. In that moment, it was just you and him, his arms around you that you felt so safe in, the thumping of the music beating to the beat of your heart, and the desire pulsing between the two of you as you looked at each other.

A small, anticipatory smile played on your lips as you met his gaze. "Please do.”

Jey didn’t need to hear that twice. He titled your chin, leaning in, and then his lips were on yours. His smirk faded as you wrapped your arms around him, deepeing the kiss and flicking your tongue against his, tasting the salty tequila he drank earlier and the taste of sweet cherry chapstick on his lips. His chain was cold against your skin as he pressed closer to you, the cold contrasting to the heat burning through your skin at Jey’s touch. The kiss was a slow burn, Jey’s lips slowly invading all your senses, his mouth swallowing every sigh of pleasure that escaped your lips. His body melted against yours when you grabbed the ends of his mullet, tugging harder when his tongue slid against yours. He swirled it in your mouth and it was like he was trying to memorize every part of your mouth.

You were dizzy off of Jey, his lips so familiar yet felt so new everytime you kissed. Your lungs burned with need for air, but you ignored it in favor of Jey’s lips that were more intoxicating than all the alcohol you drank tonight. He was your high, and you never wanted to stop being addicted to him.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you impossibly closer and grinding against you in time with the music, making you groan into his mouth. Time didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was the heat between your thighs as Jey helped curb your addiction to him with his hands roaming across your sensitive skin and him bringing his teeth between your bottom lip in a slow, teasing bite.

His grills flashed against the dim lights, making you groan once more before pulling him in into another searing kiss, gripping onto your favorite leather jacket of his- that he also looked so sexy in-for something to ground you.

“Oh my god! I knew it!” A squealing voice made you pull away in a panic, your heart racing for a different reason as you turned to see Liv right behind you, Zelina and Raquel on her tail looking equally as drunk.

“Best friends my ass!” Liv squealed again, practically shaking in excitment. “You guys finally stopped being wusses and did something about your sexual tension!!”

“Liv, you scared the hell outta us! Practically broke my eardrum!” Liv ignored your complaints, too elated to care. She wrapped her arms around both of you in a tight, tipsy hug. I can't believe it! You two are officially a thing!"

You tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. "Liv, you’re just drunk, you didn’t see an-“

But Liv was having none of it. "Oh, please! I may be drunk, but I've got eyes, and I'm not blind! You two have been practically glowing with sexual tension for ages. It was about damn time!"

You exchanged an embarrassed glance with Jey, who was trying his best not to burst into laughter. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, no longer caring about who saw. “You caught us, uce. And it only took you a couple months and a few tequila shots to do it."

Liv gasped at the new information while you went to punch jey in the shoulder, but he dodged it and grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. This made Liv gasp again.

"I can't believe it! " Liv gushed, still jumping excidtley. This is… you two are… wow! Liv struggled with her words, so Zelina and Raquel spoke up for her, their smiles mirroring Liv's wide one.

"It took ya'll long enough." Zelina smirked, drinking her cocktail. "We've been placing bets on when you'd finally get together." She then turned to Raquel, her smirk widening. "Which means you owe me a hundred bucks!"

Raquel groaned, pulling out her wallet and recultanly sliding it to Zelina. "Why couldn't you guys have kept up the act a little longer? I had money riding on next month!" But she had on a smile underneath her faux anger as she looked at you and Jey's intertwined hands. "But I'm happy for you guys, honestly."

You couldn't help but smile despite your embarrassment, it warmed your heart that your friends we're happy and supportive for you, even though they could be too prying and curious for their own good. Jey leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek,chuckling softly at the whooping from your friends at the gesture.

"We 'preciatte it, ya'll, but you mind keeping it on the down low for us? We don' need no press or rumors runnin' wild."

Your friends pouted, but nodded in understanding. No one was more annoying than the dirt sheets.

"Don't worry, we got your back!" Liv said her voice dropping to a whisper and her smile turning into a conspiratol grin. "Your secrets safe with us, chica." Zelina added, giving you an understanding smile. Raquel had a similar smile on her face, her eyes warm and supportive.

"We're here for you, both of you," Raquel reassured, her hand resting gently on your arm. "And we'll take care of Jimmy if you guys wanna leave early." She wiggled her eyebrows, making you swat her arm away with a giggle.

"We are definitely taking you up on that offer, right Jey?" Your eyes met Jey's, who was looking down at you with a soft, loving smile that dazzled your heart.

"Yeah, we definitely taking you up on that." He giggled, pulling you away from your friends and making them holler at the both of you again.

"Yeet! No take backs, uce!" Jey yelled back at them, giving his brother a wink as you passed and guiding you out the door, the chilly air wrapping around you both as you stepped out of the bar.

Jey noticed your skin break out in goosebumps and he quickly shrugged off his leather jacket, ignoring your protests and dropping it over your shoulders. It was warm, just like his eyes as he looked down at you, heart thumping with how beautiful you look in the moonlight- that dress he loved so much on you hugging all your curves the right way, your hair falling gently around your shoulders.

But most importantly, your smile that was shining brighter than any of the city lights around you that made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

"You look beautiful as hell in my leather jacket, sweetheart," Jey murmured, his voice a soft caress in the cool night air. Your cheeks warmed at his compliment, the combination of his words and jacket making you feel even more warm.

"You spoil me too much, babe." Jey chuckled softly, his hand finding its way to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over your skin.

"Well, if you don't get used to it, I'm not doing my job right. I always wanna spoil you." His thumb caressed your soft skin, his eyes turning serious as he looked at you.

"I know I kinda didn't give you a choice considering I caused our lil' make out sesh, but are you okay with people knowing? I ain't wanna put any pressure on you, sweetheart. I understand if you're not ready for that."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. His handsome features were softened by the streetlights, casting a warm glow on his face and making you yearn for him even more and think about how lucky you are to have bagged him. You reached up, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline, feeling the familiar stubble beneath your touch.

"Jey, I am more than ready for that, for people to know you are the one who has my heart. I'm proud to be with you, and I don't want to hide it, especially from out friends. You make me happy, and I don't want to hide my happiness anymore."

Jey's smile grew even wider, and he leaned in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled back, his eyes shining with adoration.

"You make me so fucking happy too, babe. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever."

Jey promised, punctuating his words with another kiss on your lips, the taste of his lips like a promise of forever, and you pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss was a silent agreement, and the tender slide of his tongue and the gentle arm going around your waist and squeezing out every groan from you was a vow of the love that you’d always have for each other, no matter what.

You pulled away, breathless and smiling up at Jey, your heart feeling like it might burst from the overwhelming love that filled it, and knew there was no other time to say the words you've wanted him to hear since the first moment you met. "I love you."

Jey's eyes glistened with emotion, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away. The weight of his gaze held all the words he didn't need to say out loud. Of how many days he spent thinking about you, of how you made him laugh, how his heart fluttered every time you hugged him, how you made him feel loved and cared for in a way he never thought possible. It was all there, in that single look.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Jey whispered, so softly that it felt like a secret meant only for the two of you. Tears glistened in your eyes, but they were tears of joy as you pulled Jey into another sweet kiss, your tears intermingling with the taste of his lips. You were sealing your love with a kiss, a promise that would forever bind your hearts together.

You both pulled away, and the look of absolute content and desire on his face was enough to make the heat between your legs come back. You let his hands roam your body, pulling you impossibly closer as his hands explored every curve and crevice as if he was committing it all to memory, not helping the fire consuming your skin at his touch. "Jey, I need you.”

Jey's breath hitched at your words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Lemme call an uber so we can go back to the hotel and I can properly take care of you the way you deserve."

You nodded, your heart pounding in anticipatio at his words. Jey quickly fumbled for his phone, fingers tapping urgently as he ordered an Uber. In what felt like mere moments, a car arrived, and you both climbed in, Jey's hand on your thigh as the city skylines disappeared behind you.

You shot him a look when his hand climbed higher, but Jey just smirked as he rubbed circles into your skin.

"Relax, babe, we're almost there." His voice was a low rumble as his hand inched even more, skimming under the hem the hem of your dress and brushing against your inner thigh, making you squirm in your seat.

Before Jey could do anything else, the car pulled up to the hotel. You both practically bolted out, Jey pulling you in the elevator and it took everything in you to not jump his bones right then and there. Jey felt the same way, and you held in a chuckle when he kept pressing the elevator button repeatedly, frustrated with how slow it seemed to be moving. Finally, the doors opened, and you made your way to your shared room.

As soon as you were inside, Jey pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours with a passion that been building between you all night. His teeth nibbled against your bottom lip so hard it drew blood. But you didn't mind when Jey soothed the bite with a lick, his arms going to your thighs and lifting you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you barely noticed him carrying you to the bed, too caught up in the heated kiss to care.

Jey gently laid you down on the bed, never breaking the kiss and towering over you, arching his body so he could be closer to you. our hands roamed over his strong back, fingers tracing the lines of his tattoos, while Jey's hands traced the contours of your body as if he were learning it all over again. Your breath caught as his fingers found their way to the lace of your panties, teasing along the edge. He bunched your dress up, revealing more of your skin to his hungry touch.

You arched into his arms, pressing yourself closer to him when his fingers pressed harshly against your cloth-covered core. Your reaction made him repeat the action again, fingers circling slowly around your clit, making you break the kiss with a soft moan.

"Jey," you gasped, your voice thick with need, "please..."

Jey lowered himself down, his breath hot against your core, his fingers toying with your lace. "Tell me what you need, babe. I'll give you anything you want."

You brought yourself to a sitting position, your elbows keeping you steady as you kept eye contact with jey, your breath coming in rapid pants. "I want you to love me, Jey. I want to feel all of you, to be completely consumed by you."

Jey's heart pounded with your words, and he leaned in closer to you, giving you a kiss that he hoped would convey all the love and desire he felt for you. How much he cared for you, how much he loves you, how he would do anything for you.

He pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours, a loving intensity shining in them. "I'll give you everything, sweetheart. I'll love you like you've never been loved before."

With that promise, Jey lips lingered on yours once more before he moved lower, trailing kisses down your body. From your collarbone to your neck to your stomach, he worshiped every inch of your skin with his mouth and hands, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His lips moved lower, down to the lace of your panties, and he looked up at you with a hunger that made your heart race.

He hooked his fingers into the lace and slowly peeled your panties off, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. When they were finally discarded, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin.

Jey suddenly dove down, his tongue tracing slow, torturous circles against your core. Your back arched off the bed, a strangled cry escaping your lips as the plaasure coursing through your body.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue licked your folds, sucking on your clit gently, dragging his teeth gently against it before sucking against your clit again, making you moan out loudly, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

He sucked on your bundle of nerves with a deliberate rhythm, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs, coaxing every sweet sound from your lips as he quickened his pace, licking up and down your cunt, making you try to grind your face against him, but he wouldn't let you. His firm grip on your hips kept you in place, continuing his sweet torutre as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

"I love you." You groaned out, the words spilling from your lips like a mantra. Jey responded by kissing your clit softly with tender affection, making you mewl loudly before his tongue delved even deeper, curling and stroking at your sweet spot and making you let out a guttural groan and tug on the sheets even more.

You thought you couldn't take anymore, but Jey added a finger, slipping it inside your pussy and curling it with surprising precision even while drunk that it made you whine uncontrollably into the mattress.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Jey whispered against your clit, the vibrations of his voice on your clit and the swirling of his tongue and curling of his fingers finally catching up to you. You could barely breathe as you succemed to Jey’s every will, white spots dancing in your vision as you came, your body going limp in his embrace.

When you finally came too and found the energy to open your eyes, you saw Jey's face hovering over you, his lips doused in your arousal and a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned over to you.

"Was that everything you asked for?" Jey cheekily whispered against your skin, his breath warm and soothing. He lifted his head, his eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint dancing in them.

You managed to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "You already know what you do to me," you replied, your voice a mix of breathless and teasing. You gave him a smirk before sitting up, your hand going straight to his pants and the obvious hard on he was sporting underneath.

"But I think it's time I return the favor." You palmed him through his pants, and Jey groaned against your skin before pulling you away fro him, taking off his pants and shirt and leaving him naked. You mirroed his actions, slipping your dress and bra off with a smirk.

"Nah, it ain't about just me tonight. It's about us." Jey pulled you back to him once all his clothes were off, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

You were so distracted by his dizzying kisses you didn't even notice him sliding inside of you until he was already inside of you, your mouth going slack at the delicious stretch of him filling you up just the way you liked it, your walls clenching around him to keep him in your pussy every time he slid out to slide back in twice as hard.

His thrusts were controlled though, his hand pushing on your stomach to make you feel how hard his dick was inside of you. His other hand slid down your thighs and circled your clit harshly, making you moan hard and throw your head back into the pillows.

Jey didn’t let up, thrusting in time with his fingers moving inside of you, the delicious friction of his thrusts and fingers making you moan in bliss and your mind teeter from present-day to heaven with every alternating fast thrust that had you going closer and closer to the brink.

“Fuck, babe, I’m close, so close.” Each one of your whines was encouraging Jey to go faster and faster to drive you to the edge of ecstasy, to give you the slice of heaven you’ve been craving all night. His lips found yours as he thrust into you so hard you felt like he was gonna break the flimsy hotel bed you were both laying on, but you didn’t even care. All you cared about was that he broke you so hard you couldn’t even feel your legs.

Your eyes teared up as you were getting closer and closer to the brink, and Jey moved his lips from your own to your face, kissing each and every single tear off before kissing the top of your head, hitting your sweet spot so hard, making you so close to cumming.

“I love you, baby.” He whispered against your skin, making your heart ache with love before he thrust into you one more time, with that and the curl of his fingers you finally were on the brink of heaven.

You shut your eyes, your breathing scattered and your moans falling on deaf ears as your mind shut down, finally giving into the sweet ecstasy that was heavenly and yet felt so sinful, every inch of your being consumed by its devilish pleasure as you came so so hard, midlessley gripping Jey’s hair and pulling as hard as you could.

The feeling of his locks in your tight grip and seeing your blissed out face was what pushed Jey over the edge, making him so mind-numb with pleasure at the feeling of you cumming on his cock he almost forgot to pull out until the last minute, but you barely noticed in the post-sex bliss state that you were in. You were stuck in that haze until you felt lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, your cheek. Then when you finally opened your eyes one was placed on your lips, and you returned the gentle peck, sitting up and admiring the way Jey's mullet was still damp and sticking to his forehead, how his lips were slightly swollen from your passionate kisses, the way his glorious abs glistened with sweat, the contented smile that played on his lips, just admiring jey period. He looked at you with a mix of desire and adoration, his dark eyes tracing every curve of your body.

You reached out, running your fingers gently through his damp hair. "You're amazing," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine affection. "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you. To be loved by you."

Jey's gaze softened, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Nah, sweetheart, I'm the lucky one. You are the reason I am still here, the reason I am whole. You complete me.” He whispered, his voice tinged with emotion. "I don't know where I'd be without you. And I ain’t never want you to forget that."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You loved it when he was like this, so open and vulnerable, baring his heart to you without a second thought. It made you feel special, for you to be the only person he trusts like this. You leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him.

"I won't forget, Jey," you assured him, your voice filled with sincerity. “Trust me, I can't forget when you remind me every day how lucky I am." The way you looked at him, the hearteyes you were making as you looked up at him, the way you looked like you wanted nothing and nobody else but him made his heart so full of love he could barely breath and his eyes glisten with unshed tears and emotions he only reserved for showing you. You wiped a tear that fell from his cheek with your thumb, a tender smile on your face.

"I promise you that I'll never stop reminding you, sweetheart. No matter what happens with our family, whatever happens in that ring, you'll always be my priority, my hear, my everything." Jey's honey sweet and soft voice wavered slightly as he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he savored the closeness between you two. He held you tight, tighter than he had ever held you, bringing your bodies so close as if he wanted to fuse your soul with his. You snuggled your head into his chest, relaxing into him and feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek, the heart he always claimed only beat for you.

Jey’s arms rubbed gently up and down your back while you traced his never-ending tattoos. And as you were tangled in the sheets together, your bodies melting into each other and your souls merging together, you knew this was it for you. That Jey was it for you, that he was the one for you, that he was the one who held your heart in his hands, and had the power to crush it in a heartbeat and make you feel empty inside, yet at the same time make you feel whole in a way no one else ever could.

And the old you would have ran away at the realization, gotten scared at the fact you were letting someone in so deeply, letting yourself be vulnerable to getting hurt, letting someone see all the parts of you that you kept hidden away.

But this was different. You were now different. With Jey, it felt right. He understood every part of you, loved every part of you unconditionally, embracing it all without hesitation, cherishing your insecurities just as much as your strengths, accepting every single inch of you as if you were a diamond in need of nothing more than a gentle polish to shine brilliantly.

And that's what he always did, didn't he? He polished your soul with his love everyday, making you feel like the most precious gem in the universe every time he held you close, every time he made you giggle when he told you a stupidly funny joke, every time he looked at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to think of, every time he kissed you like he was trying to communicate all his love and devotion in a single touch.

So as you looked up at his beautiful baby brown eyes that were staring at you with awe and affection, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be. In his arms, his lips on your skin whispering promises of love and forever, his heart beating in sync with yours. There was no where else you'd rather be, no one else's love you'd rather have then his, no one else you'd rather be with than him. His love was like a diamond, strong, unbreakable, and yet so tender in its touch. You felt it in the way his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, in the way his lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

And in that moment, with your heart in the palm of his hand and his love seeping through your skin, you promised yourself you'd never let him go, never let him slip away, never have a day go by where you don't stare at him like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky just for you and would give you the galaxy if you asked him too.

You gazed into his starry eyes and knew this was where you belonged, entwined with Jey with his eyes staring at you with consellations of love reflecting in his gaze, like you were the celestial masterpiece he had been searching for all his life.

And you'd be dammed if you let anyone take your universe away from you.

——————————————————————————

You stirred awake slowly, eyes burning at the soft rays of morning light filtering through the curtains. Your limbs ached- a reminder of the night before. You stretched before realizing you were trapped inside a warm embrace.

The strong arms wrapped around you were familiar, and the steady rise and fall of the chest against your back was comforting. You looked up and saw Jey, his features relaxed in sleep, his breath warm against your neck. Memories of the night before flooded back, the love, the intimacy, the passion you shared with him and it made you smile to yourself like a dork.

You heard your phone buzz on the nightstand, but you ignored it in favor for nuzzling your head in Jey's chest and relaxing into his warm embrace, planting a kiss on his bare chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart against your lips.

But then your phone buzzed again, and again, and again, making you groan quietly and shift slightly in Jey's arms. You reluectnaly pulled away from his comforting arms, trying not to wake him as you reached for your phone. You giggled when he immedieley pulled you back to him as soon as you got your phone, leaning into his touch and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek as you opened your phone.

You frowned at the barrage of messages you got from Liv. She wasn't a morning person, especially after she had a few too many drinks, so you were concerned to say the least.

incoming text from livvy<3: girl, pls tell me ur awake rn!!

incoming text from livvy<3: wake up!!!!

incoming text from livvy<3: girl idc how good the sex was, you better wake ur ass up!! twitter is going wilddddd!

incoming text from livvy<3 apparently the stupid fucking paps were waiting us out, hiding their creepy asses in the bushes and they followed you and jey all the way to ur hotel and caught u kissing :( I'm sorry their such bums. if you need someone to talk to I'm here babe <3

Your heart got caught in your throat as you immedielty went to twitter, and sure enough they were going crazy, circulating the photo of you and Jey.

You sighed, rubbing your face as you went through the comments, most of them surprisingly supportive and happy for the two of you.

jeylover121: omg!! finally!! they're so cute!!

wrestlinglover: mom and dad finally got together!! brb i'm gonna cry!

uceyfanatic: i knew they weren't just besties! the way they look at each other>> them heart eyes were fooling nobody 😭

y/nstan124: i knew something was going on, jey ain't slick! they way he always has to have his hands on her and pull her close, no ones taking her away from u 😭

You couldn't help but smile at the overwhemingly positive comments, but you also knew there would be some negativity. You scrolled through the edits and messages, trying to take everything in.

Not that you cared what others thought of you, their negative words didn't really hurt you, you had to have tough skin to get in this business in the first place. But you didn't want it to affect your work life negatively and you didn't want it to affect Jey or his family.

As you were scrolling, Jey started to stir beside you. His eyes blinked open, and he looked down at you with a sleepy smile.

"Mornin', sweetheart," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. You smiled back at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Good morning, babe." you replied sweetly, your voice soft and filled with warmth. "How did you sleep?"

Jey stretched his arms above his head, his muscles flexing. You couldn't help but ogle at them as he looked down at you, his gaze softening. "Like a damn baby, thanks to you." He chuckled. "You really wore me out."

You smirked at his words, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "I'm glad to know I could be of service" You teased, Jey smirking back at you as he leaned in closer to you, his lips brushing against yours.

"Oh, you were of service, alright. The best damn service." He punctuated his words with a sweet morning kiss, his tongue sliding softly against your lips, inviting you to deepen the kiss, and you gladly obliged. You pulled away before it could get too heated, giggling at Jey's pout and innocent expression.

You gave him one last kiss before sitting up, reaching your phone again. "Liv texted me, saying the paparazzi caught us last night," you explained, getting straight to the point, your expression turning a bit more serious. "They got a photo of us kissing outside the hotel."

You handed him the phone, and Jey's face shifted from sleepiness to alertness in an instant as he read through the messages and saw the photo on social media.

"Damn, they ain't waste no time, did they?" Jey chuckled, though slightly annoyed and worried about how you might take it. He didn't want you getting overwhelmed and running for the hills, he couldn't handle the idea of you leaving.

He came closer to you, bringing his hand to your face and caressing your cheek with his thumb, his eyes searching yours for any sadness or regret. "You okay, sweetheart? I know this how we ain't plan on coming out to the world."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin. You met his gaze with a reassuring smile, your fingers gently entwining with his.

"Hey, don't worry," you said softly. "I'm okay. I knew that eventually, people would find out, and I'm not ashamed of us. I want everyone to know the man who holds my heart." You kissed the back of his hand, giving him heart eyes that were making him melt and cause his heart to swell.

"Plus, I'm sick of those women in your dm's thinking they have a chance with you when you're mine." You gave him a playful wink, making him giggle like a nerd and squeeze your hand affectionately.

"Why you jealous when you got the real thing right here." Jey teased, his eyes sparkling with affection as he brought you into a quick kiss, pulling away and giving you a real genuine smile.

"You know ain't nobody gonna take me away from you, babe. You've got me wrapped around your finger." You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.

"Good to know, because I'm not letting you go anytime soon," you replied with a playful grin. "You are stuck with me for eternity, babe. No receipts accepted."

Jey's smile turned into a look of pure adoration. He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"An eternity is too short to love you, babe," He whispered into your skin, his voice so sincere and full of devotion you felt it radiate through your entire being, radiate through your heart and soul. You held him just as tight, feeling the depth of you love with how fast his heart was racing and how his body seemed to mold perfectly against yours, how his kisses and caresses felt like they were only made for you and only you to experience.

After a few minutes, you pulled away, staring at him with a lovestruck stare that conveyed all the words you didn't need to say out loud but he understood.

"If you wanna love me some more, than you can get your lazy ass out of this bed and meet me in the shower, poking his chest playfully before escaping his arms and dodging his attempt to pull you back, giggling at his mock-scowl as you walked to the bathroom.

His scowl dropped when he noticed you wearing his shirt. And nothing else but his shirt. "Ay, wait up ma! You ain't doin' nothing without me!" Jey called after you, running after you.

You were already stripped of your clothes and in the shower by the time he arrived. His eyes ran up and down your body with a possessive glint that made your insides warm, and it took him 1.5 seconds to take off his pants and pounce on you, shutting the shower curtains and snaking his arms around your waist as he pressed his chest against your back, nuzzling your neck with his lips.

"You're gonna pay for that little tease," he murmured, his voice a low, sultry rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His hands slid up your sides, and you titlted your head to give him better access to your neck.

"A punishment from you sounds like a reward." You purred sultrily, melting into his arms with each kiss. He turned you around, backing you up against the wall and turning on the water, the warm water cascading down your back, a soothing motion in contrast to the way he was harshly kissing and sucking hickies into your skin.

"Oh, you talking like that now? You aint gon' be talking that shit soon though, I promise you that." You were about to make another snarky remark, but the breath got caught in your throat at the sight of Jey lowering himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled you by your thighs, dragging you to him and making the lower half of your body fill up with heat as his breath fanned over your cunt that was hover over his face.

"What I tell you?" Jey's smirk was both infurtiating and hot as he taunted you, and yet again when you are about to make another snarky remark, he cut you off with burying his face between your thighs, sucking and licking your cunt so harshly you moaned out loud pathetically and gripped your hands onto his shoulders to find some leverage to try and ground you.

Let's just say, he definitely made you eat your words.

------------------------------------------------------------

LIKED BY UCEYJUCEY, TRINITY, YAONLYLIVEONCE, JIMMYUSO & 5 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: Acknowledge Us.

tagged: uceyjucey

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yaonlylivonce: hot couple alert hot couple alert 🚨 🚨 i told u to pick that dress!! you look so good!! 😍 ily💗

y/n: thats why ur my all in one bestie and fashion designer 😘 ilyt 💗

trinity: bad bitch!! jey is a lucky man 😍♥️

y/n: learned from the baddest bitch of them all 😘 but trust me, the lucky one is me 🥹

uceyjucey: my girl looks so good ♥️I love calling you mine ♥️

y/n: ty baby 🥹 and i love it when you call me yours ♥️

uceylover: omg omg omg omg it finally fucking happened!!!

wrestlingstan: bi panic bi panic bi panic 🚨‼️

WWE: power couple vibes 😍

jimmyuso: THIS IS HOW I MF FIND OUT!! I’m happy for ya’ll… but WHY YOU AINT TELL ME SIS 🙄 ily anyways

jeyuso: cause u talk to much uce

y/n: what he said, cause ur a blabbermouth 🙄 ilyt ♥️

jimmyuso: Now I’m being attacked by both of ya’ll… the audacity 😑

LIKED BY Y/N, JIMMYUSO, TRINITY, BIANCABELAIR, & 3 MILLION OTHERS

uceyjucey: left my headache, found my peace ♥️

tagged: y/n

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y/n: i love you ♥️

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justbelievinginmagic · 29 days ago

Text

like a waltz⎯ part 4: piqué.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter focuses on all the boys & reader except my beloved matz :(( (their time is coming.) series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: As trouble arises and your patrons spend more time with you, more attention gets locked on you. Their interest is thoroughly piqued by you. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence (choking, fighting, punching, etc), canon typical gore, blood, death, guns, explicit language, stalking, alcohol, smoking, bribery, lack of privacy, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes, suggestive themes, kissing, intimacy, angst, fluff, voyeurism sort of, obsession, infatuation, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, food descriptions, missing people, polyamory, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 20.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

piqué ; french pronunciation: [piːk], ‘pricked’… or to stimulate interest or curiosity.

Creeping out of the stage-door hours after a performance was a normal thing for ballerinas. The alley way was something all the girls were familiar with just as they were with the foyer de la danse. Its damp cobblestone, nearby rotting trashcans, and the barely lit path was their red-carpet entrance. They were not allowed the luxury of entering through the grand doors of the opera house with its tall columns, brightly lit lamps, and the many steps towards its shiny, gold-painted extravagance The only days they were allowed to enter through the front doors were when the opera house was closed and they were rehearsing. The petit rats were only welcomed with glamour when the rich weren’t nearby. They had the back-entrance. This was the ugly underbelly of the pretty façade.

Dressed in her pretty coat and her warmest layers, she had said goodbye to San and Wooyoung ages ago. But then, the Madame had spoken to her and a few ballerinas in her office, relaying some notes, insisting on the girls performing the rectifications immediately. So, there they stood in the rehearsal room, satin-ribboned shoes laced up over thick winter stockings and their day-dresses on. The ballerinas repeated their motions: turning in pirouettes, performing jetes, and piquing across the hall. It was only after the city’s clock tolled twelve times that the Madame allowed them to stop with a slam of her cane into the wooden floorboards. Then, after confirming each dancer had paid their weekly bill (YN smiled, wiping sweat from her brow as she was told her patrons paid once more), they were allowed to leave. The other ballerinas had all scurried home by the time she had gathered her bag and coat once more.

It was late into the early hours, past midnight and not yet morning when she finally left the opera house and crept out into the alley.

Pushing the heavy door open with her shoulder, the chill of night soaked into her bones with a whoosh. Shivering a bit, she adjusted her pretty coat closer to her body and prepared herself for the walk home. Her boots click clacked on the icy pavement as she exited the mouth of the alley. Looking this way and that, the streets were abandoned. Seemingly abandoned. Some of the candle-lit lamps even had fizzled out in the evening with no leeries about to relight them. She continued to walk along, humming softly until she heard the noise. Loud panicked whispers. A crackling fire. The crinkling of a tin-barrel. The smell of smoke. Ahead of her, dark smoke was tumbling out of a nearby alleyway, firelight lighting the brick-walls. She paused, her foot-steps slowed.

Click. Clack.

“You fucked up the deal?” It was frightened.

Click, clank.

“I didn’t mean to; I didn’t mean to. Johnny stole some cash from them, and then-“

“I don’t care! We needed this deal – the money, before he arrives – before we all lose –“

There was the squealing of car wheels and the smell of hot gasoline in the air. YN froze, her footsteps stopping. A car door slammed open, and there was a new click-clank of boots. A startled yell, a shuffle of footsteps, voices overlapping; there was a thud of a body hitting the icy ground with a yell. YN held her breath.

“Gentlemen,” the newcomer’s voice was gravely. There were heavy footfalls and a scrambling sound of someone walking backwards. Something hit a tin-can.

“B-B-Boss.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, about that –“ the other chuckled.

“My money isn’t no laughing matter.” There was a thud like someone being shoved into a wall violently. The man groaned in pain. “You think I’m someone to be crossed? Where. Is. It?” the intimidating deep voice asked, lowly.

YN swallowed, frozen at the alley way’s entrance just out of view. When would she be able to pass? She needed to get out of here quiet and without being noticed. Or else… she was scared what would happen. This wasn’t the usual gang-dealings. Gangs would fight back, fist with fist. These men were scared.

“We can get it to you- We can- just give me some time, boss!”

“This is the second time,” the graveled voice grumbled; there was a low whistle, sharp and piercing.

And then it was quiet. There wasn’t even pleading, no whimpering.

Silence.

YN’s breath was held as she tentatively peered out from her spot. A sliver of her face was visible against the brickwork wall of the alley way. Smoke hazed the figures, but she could just make out the broad shoulders of the deep-voiced man, cornering another man to the brick wall. The man’s hand scratched at the many-ringed fingers that grasped his throat mercilessly. A gagging sound was heard. Not one of the gang-member’s allies moved to help them. Instead, they were all staring at the automobile.

A truck was reversed into the alley way. Black and large, it shined and flickered in the firelight. Its back-doors pushed open with a click, and men in dark masks tumbled out. Large, intimidating suited figures held bulky guns she had never seen before. YN had seen muskets, shotguns, and even a revolver once. These weren’t that. These were heavy, mechanical, and dangerous-looking. They piled into the alley, the metal of their weapons glinting in the firelight of the makeshift-barrel fire. The frightened figures strewn about the alley way were frozen-still; a few on the ground pleaded, praying. The masked men pointed their weapons at them warningly.

Her heart rate jumped.

This was more than just a gang fight – this seemed methodical. Frightened, her eyes darted to the other side of the alley, her path home just a few steps away. But she’d have to reveal herself… While they were distracted, she’d run. She would. She needed to get out of here quick. Like a mouse, she’d escape when the cats played with their prey.

There was the clink of a car door opening and a metallic thunk of it shutting firmly. A sigh echoed out into the air, disappointed.

“Please, boss.” The figure held to the wall managed to splutter out.

His captor pushed him up the wall with a violent thud before finally letting go. The man gasped and gaped like a fish as the dark figure took a step backwards to look towards his accomplice. The figure exiting the car didn’t have the dark masks like the others. In this light and smoke, she could only make out the shape of him. Clean cut short hair, the trail of cigarette smoke, the gleam of his teeth. He tossed the cigarette to the icy floor.

Click, clack.

Click, clack, BANG.

A gunshot went off. His hand was outstretched in a flash; the pistol in his grasp smoking. A man on the ground let out a yelp of pain; his blood splattered against ice and stone. His hand grasped at his leg helplessly in agony.

“Shall we send a message to your pals?” the new man insisted, cocking his red-hot gun again and aiming it at the man his companion had just released from a chokehold.

There was pleading; names babbled over one another until they were unrecognizable. “Sir! Mercy please!”

“I think we should,” the deep-voiced man commented, nearly growling out his words. “We knew you scum thought this was some game. And here you made it all messy.”

His teeth gleamed and glinted with his snarl.

“Let’s make it messy in return.” He finished, nodding at the other.

There was a signal, and the men fired at the others at the two tall figures’ command. Gunfire, loud, fast, and hot, blazed out across the alley way. Her voice escaped her, screaming out. Hiding quickly out of danger, YN jumped back.

“What’s that?” a voice bit out. “You got some dame in this? Find her. Get her!”

They had heard her. Ice flooded her veins. She turned to run, only to run face first into a broad chest. She screeched out again, her hand raising to muffle it. By the looks of his attire, he wasn’t one of the gang members from the alley way. No, this gentleman was dressed nicely in a midnight-black tuxedo with a black cummerbund sash around his waist like he had been at the opera house. His face was firm, almost furrow browed as he righted her with a careful hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t be in this mess; he looked so polished and unaware.

“Mis—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as she interrupted him. Her hands shoved unlady-like against his sturdy chest, wrinkling what had been previously a fine-pressed white button-up.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She hushed. “Now!”

Her eyes dripped of innocence, of protectiveness. Her fear was palpable. His intense brown orbs met hers and, without hesitation, he nodded. Surprisingly, despite his height and stature, he let her push and pull him away from the alley way and back towards the front of the now-abandoned opera house. She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, so they could stand hidden by the columns.

Her boots click clacked with each step of the stairs. More gunshots rang out; footsteps followed after them. She stumbled a bit, yelping; the mystery man’s free hand reached out to support her waist before he pulled her into the cover of the tall columns.

She could hear gunfire echo through the street, and she jumped with each bang, bang, bang. The stranger’s hand rose to duck her closer to the column rather than hide against it himself. Curling into herself, into the man’s side, the column, her eyes shut tight. This was a nightmare. The masked figures would surely come after them. They’d pull him away and then her, and what would happen next? She was shaking. There was yelling, shouting. She flinched. A loud whisper.

“Maknae?”

No reply. There was a crunching of snow, the moaning of men in pain. There was a long pause; she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, heaving and thuds of something, and finally the squeal of car wheels going far away from the scene. The smell of gun-smoke and burnt rubber and gardenias (her rescuer’s cologne she realized) was all that was left.

A silence tumbled over the square like the cold water of an ocean’s tide, overwhelming and discombobulating. She stayed frozen for a long until a single finger poked at her shoulder.

“Miss?” he prompted softly; he shook her shoulder firmly then.

His tone sounded nervous, almost afraid. Of course he would be; she was afraid! It was frightening to almost be caught up in trouble. They had been so very close to being looped into a gang fight. She swore she’d never go down that alley or any alley again - ever. Shortcuts home be damned.

“It’s okay. You can open your eyes.” His voice was melodic, soft. Warm in this icy cold.

Her eyes opened tentatively, and she took in the sight of the gentleman in front of her.

He looked down at her with those intense deep-brown eyes, his dark hair mussed over his forehead. She could see his brows furrow at her in concern; his tongue peeked out to swipe over his top lip. His clothes, presumably for the ballet, were wrinkled by her man-handling.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing her over with a quick look.

He didn’t let his gaze linger, but he hadn’t let his hand up from her shoulder either. She swallowed and shook her head as she shifted her shoulders, physically gathering herself as she replied.

“I’m okay, sir. Are you?” she asked politely. Her voice trembled still.

His face smoothed into something she’d almost call relief before he nodded. “I am.” He glanced out at the road. “They’re gone.”

He spoke to reassure her, the tone firm and resolute.

“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked slowly.

He seemed not too disheveled as he took a few steps away from her. His eyes remained on the nearby street, monitoring it. There was no sounds of moaning or pain. What had happened to the gang members? The gun fire was horrible; she hadn’t seen much. Except for red, red, red. No. No! She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any reason for those men to come find her! They heard her. They had. Her hands rubbed over face; hours old makeup and sweat was sticky against her palms. It felt like blood for a moment.

It sent chills up her spine.

“Miss YN?” her rescuer prompted again, dragging her attention to him.

“No, sorry,” she babbled out. “No.” she confirmed firmly. Her arms wrapped around herself, tugging her coat closer.

“Are you sure?” the man’s brow raised.

“It’s easier to ignore these things,” she muttered out. “Safer. To not get involved.”

The man hummed low in his throat, melodically.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, trying to shake off her fear. “For shielding me up here. And running away.”

“You warned me. You saved me I guess,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

She smiled shakily before glancing back at the now-quiet streets. Her hands clutched her coat closer.

“Will you be alright, Miss YN?” he asked.

Her nod was preoccupied.

“I will be,” she told him, glancing up at him. He fit right in with the glamour of the opera house. She wondered why she had never seen him before. He was memorable. His face was handsome; his form strong in a different way to San’s but still imposing.

“I’ll be on my way. It’s late and I don’t want trouble. I’m glad that we are both aliv-okay.” she corrected.

“I understand,” he said. “You don’t want a chaperone?”

She didn’t even know him. She wished Wooyoung or San was here. She shook her head, and she took a step away, fiddling with her coat.

“I’ll be okay. Good night…”

“Jongho,” he answered, even if she wasn’t asking. “My name is Jongho.”

“Jongho,” she repeated. “Thank you again.”

He nodded, bowing at the waist.

“Good night, YN.”

He’d whisper, “stay safe,” but he knew he’d be following after her in just a little while. After all, her designated shadow was busy tonight, too busy taking care of business to watch over her. So, the once-street-mutt Jongho had been sent in his stead to watch over his lady. And Jongho couldn’t help but be curious about her. Even more now that he had held her in his arms and seen the sweetness of her soul in her eyes.

YN was safe in her bed that night when she realized she had never told him her name.

And yet he had said it.

Her motions were sloppy. Her pointe was weak. And her mind lost. She plied.

“Are you alright, honey?” San asked.

It was the next night - before showtime. San and Wooyoung somehow weaseled themselves into the boudoir before any other patrons could. Sometimes she wondered how much coin that costed them. The Madame had been strict with no patrons before shows – allowing the fragile privacy to warm up and prepare for the shows. It was so easily broken by the two men, but their eyes were only locked on her. And when she turned away to shimmy into a costume or fix a corset or a loose ribbon, they’d respect her. Glancing aside no matter how much temptation itched at their hands.

Wooyoung had offered once to lace her up, and he was met with a look of sharp disbelief – even if it was shadowed by a sweet blush. He hadn’t asked again, but he looked forward to the day he would be able to lace her up… and unlace her.

Tonight, they stood leaning against the barre as she continued to warm up. But, of course, San had caught her shakiness, her focus weaning.

His hand slide across her waist slowly, thumb caressing up and down.

“I’m okay,” she said honestly, leaning into his support as she lowered her leg off the barre. She flexed her feet and rose up on to a pointe for a moment before sighing out and turning to face the two men.

San’s hand ghosted after her waist, guiding her close as she came to settle between her patrons. She rested her bum on the barre between San and Wooyoung. Her pristine white costume made her look like an angel between two black-suited demons. Wooyoung flicked his cigarette bud into an ash tray he’d stolen taken from the front lobby of the opera house.

“I’m sensing a but,” Wooyoung teased. His fingers trailed lower that they had before, grazing over her the small of her back closer and closer ‘til… San slapped his hand, albeit lightly. She didn’t chuckle at his joke. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t joke at all. He frowned.

“Hm, swanette?” he encouraged again.

“It’s—things have been different around town recently. I just got scared last night,” she admitted, fingers trailing back and forth over the barre pole supporting them. Restlessly. “I think its just shaking me up today.”

“How so?” San asked inquiringly.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen two gun fights in the past month while walking home. That’s not normal. There’s all sorts of kidnappings or disappearances. It’s just,” she shivered, thinking of the fear that had clung to her bones since last night. “Scary.” Her arms wrapped around herself.

Wooyoung frowned, his thumb going to rub at her arm soothingly. He didn’t like her fear. He liked her smiling far more.

“You didn’t go to the police, honey?” San asked, brow pursing. Wooyoung glanced over at San.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s—not my business.” She shook her head a bit, not agreeing completely with her phrasing. “I mean, that’s how it’s always been. Ignore, walk faster, try to get away before being seen. If you mind your business, they’ll mind yours… unless you’re involved. I’m not. Never have been. But… there have never been gun fights. I’ve seen fist fights, even switchblades being pulled.” She shook her head again. “I sound silly. But I know there were gangs around town – I know the familiar faces of troublemakers, their tells – and they’re afraid. And if the monsters are afraid--”

She trailed uncertain. She sighed out again before her hands went to squeeze both of their hands that rested on the barre.

“Sorry, I’m just shaken up, that’s all. I’m spiraling a bit,” she reconciled. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung was first to cut her off. “No, no, pretty girl. Don’t apologize.” He soothed. “We don’t want you scared.”

“You weren’t hurt,” San clarified. It didn’t even sound like a question but still he said it.

She nodded in agreement. “Nope,” she showed her bare arms and twisted this way and that. As if it’d prove she was unharmed.

“Someone helped me,” she admitted.

San raised his brow at Wooyoung before the shorter began to fuss over her.

“My scared swanette,” Wooyoung pouted, huddling close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped her in his arms. “Shall we walk you home from now?” he murmured. “San and I will be your personal bodyguards.”

“Uh, huh,” she teased lightly. “I’m sure you will.”

They’ve only walked her home on occasion. She knew it was in the opposite direction of the Ateez House. She didn’t expect them to walk her home. She wanted them to.

“Trust me, you’ll never get hurt around me if I walked by your side,” San promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as well.

“I’ll make the ground you walk and dance sacred.” Wooyoung whispered. “Drench it in holy water for you.”

She laughed at that.

“Stop teasing me,” she giggled. “You’re being mean.”

“We’re not teasing, honey.” San pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“I’m sure.”

“Shall I carry you home instead? Like a damsel.” Wooyoung teased, arms sweeping underneath her legs.

Wooyoung was growing bolder by the day, and it made her cheeks flush. She let out a shriek of laughter, dragging the eyes of the other ballerinas their way. San raised his brow at them. Unbeknownst to YN, San seemed to harden when looking at anyone other than Wooyoung or her. He spun her playfully. Her mind rightfully distracted from her fear finally.

“You’ll never step foot on ground again while I’m around, Miss Swanette.”

It was dark in the restaurant’s backroom. Smokey and lowlight with flickering candlelight. The servers, the cooks, everyone had been pushed out, locked out. The long table was bare of any meal. Water in crystal glasses sat in front of each man. At the head of the table, there was a decanter of amber liquid with two empty pristine glasses. It was quiet, so quiet that the squeaking of rats could be heard in the floor board. Nervous eyes looked this way and that; bodies shifted and fidgeted. The door opened, and all eyes were sucked to into their orbit.

Two figures stood side by side. Matching Rolexes glimmered on their wrists as they both adjust their suits. One shoved their gold-lined, midnight-black suit’s sleeves up with little finesse while the other took his time, slowly peeling off his suit jacket before rolling his white button-up sleeves up. Slinging his discarded jacket across one of his broad shoulders, he then adjusted his black tie, a long silver ring encompassed his pointer finger of his dominant hand. It almost looked like a claw. The other rolled his neck, the glimmer of multiple gold and pearl necklaces matching his sneer.

Tall and taller glanced down the long table. Young and old sat there; most didn’t look like they had much. Fake luxurious hats with feathers, rings that didn’t sparkle quite right, and sweat-stained pinstriped suits. Some did have money. Their fat fingers rubbing their gold necklaces nervously. All of them shifted in their seats as the duo approached. One on each side of the table, they prowled.

“Gentlemen,” the one who spoke out first nearly growled his words in a snarl.

Rather than walk with his chin high like his companion, he tilted his chin to glare down the table. Dark eyes made darker still by anger. There was a laziness in his swagger as he walked behind one row of chairs; a hand trailed over each leathered chair.

“We have some… requests,” the taller one stated, a smile coming to his glimmering mouth.

YN watched as Imara grab Dohyun’s hand. Her words were hushed in the loud boudoir, unreadable. But she could see the panic, the tears twinkling on her lash line.

‘Don’t do this please.’

She could read the pretty dancer’s lips.

The bank owner yanked his arm away, harshly. As if they hadn’t touched Imara’s body up and down like it was his for over a year. He glanced about as he spoke, mouth moving too quick for her to catch any words.

He shook his head again as he turned and left the boudoir.

Imara had to pay for her dues the next day for the first time in over a year.

Wooyoung stood by his promise. Each night since, he or San walked YN home, winding through the streets with their fingers interlaced. Most nights it was him. He liked the shared time for just them he said. Sometimes, he grew daring and would wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Like two lovers taking a stroll.

The following nights had been relatively calm; there were no gun fights, no gangsters. In fact, the streets seemed boring. Not a soul was seen around them except for, of course, her loyal following shadow. Not that she’d know. He was like a ghost, sneaking around the corners and alleys to keep them in his sight.

From the darkened corners of the streets, the figure followed after them night after night. His annoyance only growing as Wooyoung’s touches grew bolder in the solitude of night. With no one there, the idea of public decency was lost to the second-youngest. It wasn’t anything explicit. He just was touchy. Touchier than if it were daylight. Holding her closer, his touches longer, longing.

Longingly, he wanted to hold her; he wanted her to curl into his arms. Her shadow-man scowled deeply. Wooyoung truly was a brat he decided. Still, he continued to trail them from far away. But every now and then, Wooyoung would turn and give him a wink over his Swanette’s head. His hand sliding up her back, slow and teasing; his fingers tickled and trailed lower and lower on her waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.

Wooyoung’s smirk was triumphant as his eyes flickered over to the shadow in the alleyway. Wooyoung was teasing. Teasing both of them.

She’d huddle closer after, and the stalking figure would whisper out a curse. Jealousy itched at his stomach, and he was sure to return home with a scowl. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, and, while he was a gentleman, his thoughts felt not-so gentle. He wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Have her love him. He’d give her anything she wanted. He was already so weak for her, and they hadn’t even met.

He buried himself in the work that was piled on his desk, thanks to Hongjoong. Still, he’d get distracted, imagining fantasies of him and her. He spun a ring on the desk, the ‘S’ emblem on it taunting him.

Would he be able to see her perform soon? Seonghwa and Yeosang had visited. Even Jongho had. Maybe he’d convince Hongjoong to let him go to the foyer de la danse like Wooyoung and San were able to. Why couldn’t he?

The young man knew the answer like a bitter liquor.

Later that evening, Wooyoung and him would meet face-to-face. A smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he popped his head into the higher-rank’s office.

“Had a nice stroll?”

It was a Friday, and Julia with the red hair had been given a private dressing room. That was all anyone could whisper and gossip about.

It wasn’t large. It didn’t even have a mirror or dressing table yet. It was a small closet of a space. But it was hers - exclusively. Her name on a golden plaque had been placed on the door with the title ‘Featured Ballerina’ etched below it. There was space for more.

The entire ballet troupe knew it had been paid for by her patron and wasn’t a result of any promotion amongst the troupe. She wasn’t prima; there was no way for her to achieve higher with no new show to audition for. It was all an act. It wasn’t talent. It was money and favoritism.

Meanwhile, Imara was despondent, cold as ice to anyone that gave her a pitying look.

Patrons came and went like the seasons – even if one thought they’d last forever, winter always came.

It made talking to either woman difficult. Julia was high on her excitement. The way she walked was like she owned the world. She would run off to her closet the moment she came off stage, even if there was hardly room for two people in the space, let alone warming up or staying warm. But, as YN exited stage left, she and the red head stumbled into one another with a clank.

They both yelped, flinching at the pain that radiated up their shoulders.

“Sorry,” YN apologized before her gaze rose and realized who it was.

“Hey Julia.” Her tone was sharper, less friendly than. Almost icy.

The red-head rubbed her shoulder scowling at the other before her own face dropped into an attitude of sorts.

“YN.”

It wasn’t said fond or with blooming respect like it had been before. Where was the respect that had been trickling down with San and Wooyoung’s support? Was it because Julia was still ever-higher than her? Was it because she had a dressing room now?

Maybe it was because they spotted one another outside of the ballet with their patrons by their side.

“Why did you lie to me?” YN spouted out, brows furrowing.

The other ballerina laughed out, too loud. She was almost heard over the orchestra playing a lofty tune as the White Swan jete’ed about on stage nearby.

“What are you talking about?” the other replied, dramatically hushing her tone.

“You said your patron never invited you out of the ballet.” YN stated. “But I saw you at the tennis match.”

There was a condescending tut that escaped the other, and it made YN’s eyes fall into slits.

“Oh, honey,” it was said cruelly. “You need to catch up. If you want to be like them, not be theirs, you must play like them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve gone on plenty of outings with my patron.” She stated, fixing her hair.

“So, you lied,” YN clarified again, simply. What wasn’t clicking? She lied to her.

“I’m not invited; I’m expected,” she said. “I go where I want.”

Semantics. It made her roll her eyes.

“He pays for you just as mine pay for me,” YN commented. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was normal? I was worried.”

Julia finally sighed out.

“Listen, YN. Liars are the only thing that fill those rich homes. Even your boys.” She bit out. “You better learn the game, how to play it, and how to tell if someone is lying to you if you want to be upper-class so badly, YN. Otherwise, you’ll just keep playing pretend, and nobody wants a pretender.”

Then, without another word, the red head pushed past her with a huff.

The game. Julia had called it a game.

YN had always looked at the boudoir as a show. A performance between patron and protégé. Usually explicit. But Julia saw it as a game. What type of game YN wondered?

Was it chess? A game of wits? A game of checkers? A game of hopping to the next best thing?

Wooyoung and San didn’t see her as a game. This she knew in her bones. Their sweet words were too sweet. Their genuine excitement and care were a balm to her. But then, she glanced aside at Imara who was like a lost sock without her patron, use ambiguous and left lonely in the corner of the busied boudoir. She had thought the same thing about her patron.

Doubt crawled in. Trickled in her veins. Even as the pair of men strode into the boudoir after the show per usual. San fixed his vest, the white button up loosened and less appropriate, but pleasing to the eye. Wooyoung finished his drink, handed to him by the bulkier man obediently as they walked.

“Hello you two,” YN greeted.

“Hi, pretty lady,” Wooyoung replied. “How was your evening? You were lovely as always.”

“It was good.” she said.

Wooyoung presented his cheek to her, expectedly. With their increase in dates and walks home, he’d become openly affectionate now. Not that she fought against it. If she didn’t press a kiss, he’d pout but when she did a pleased hum would reverberate through his chest like a cat’s purr. It made her beam; his happiness became her pleasure.

She pecked his cheek, quick. He grinned and quickly engulfed her in an embrace. His lips danced over her face. Tiny millions of butterfly kisses were pressed over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Giggles consumed her; his quirking lips hummed as he worked his way down to her jaw, underneath it, her neck, to her collarbone, before he was pressing fond kisses over her pearl necklace and up the column of her throat. Each one sent a tingle running through her.

“No pain?” San questioned, aware of how easily she bruised and ached.

She shook her head distractedly.

“Only a few more shows left anyways if so.” She commented. He gave her a scolding look. “Training will be less strenuous than performing. Surprisingly.” She chuckled, gasping out as Wooyoung pressed a deep kiss to the spot beneath her jaw. Not quite a hickey but close.

“Good,” the man replied. She needed a break San thought. He saw how her toes were a bright red through her tights.

“It’ll be nice to dance something new soon – but it’s bittersweet.” She just managed to get out.

San hummed out in agreement, pressing his own kiss to her forehead as he wriggled Wooyoung away from his honey to let her begin to dress into every-day clothing once more. She gave him a thankful look as she quickly went to change nearby. Her face was flushed, and her heart raced. How was her hair even more mussed from her bun? He hadn’t even touched it.

“I know,” San replied. “You must be excited?”

She smiled as she shed out of her feathers.

“Closing night is always such an experience,” she taunted.

It was. Full of celebrations, champagne, and influx of patrons spending their last pennies of the season.

“Will you be there?”

“Of course, baby,” Wooyoung cooed from San’s arms. She saw him ghost a kiss across his neck.

“We’ll be there for every closing and opening from now on.”

Wooyoung sat by her side, her hand in his as he gestured to the menu about this tea and that americano and this croissant. Their spread was already far more than either of them could finish. Large oozy cookies, steaming croissants with chocolate fillings, savory bite-sized tarts, and a large sandwich Wooyoung had already cut in half. One for him and one for her.

They had begun to have more dates like this; Wooyoung favored more intimate places such as cafes where they could cozy up close and share treats and talk while San liked to show her off at tennis matches and outings of public attention. She had liked it – but she couldn’t help but hear Julia’s voice in the back of her head.

Did she know her patrons?

Wooyoung smiled brightly and talked easily with her now; an air of comfortability was palpable as his fingers played with hers.

“Wooyo,” she prompted tentatively, interrupting his yapping.

“Hm?” he looked up from the menu, his face inquiring. Brows raised, and mouth squeezed shut.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away, swanette.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go and flexing his arms to resettle his sitting form to look at her more attentively.

“Why is it you introduced yourself as a Jung? And not a Kim?” she asked.

“Force of habit, really,” he admitted. “Hongjoong insists on us sharing his name.” He raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip.

“Because he helped you when you needed him?” she recalled.

His grin grew wide, amused. “Yeah.” He paused, biting his lip for a moment before he scooted closer. “He took me in basically. Which is why I consider him family, close as thieves just like Yeosangie and Sannie.”

“He’s at Ateez House?” she queried, fingering a cookie. Tearing it up but not really eating as she thought.

How many were at that mansion? Yeosang, San, Wooyoung… Hongjoong and Seonghwa as well?

“There’s a lot of you there.”

He nodded as he picked up one of the crumbs she was making and pressed it to her lips. His fingertips were warm from the hot ceramic of his coffee cup. He smiled fondly as she nibbled at it. Before raising the rest of the crumb to his mouth, licking at the chocolate melting on his fingertips.

She licked her lips as she watched, chocolate fragrant on her tongue.

“There are eight of us,” he told her. “Eight men in one house, you can imagine the chaos.”

He spoke as if they shared an apartment and not a grand ‘haunted’ mansion.

“What does he do?” she mumbled, half focusing on her attempt to solve the mysteries that had plagued Ateez House’s occupants.

“Eh, a lot of things,” he sucked at the crumbs on his thumb before reaching out a wiping a smudge at the corner of her lips. “This and that. Loves art and shows and spectacle. Is a bit of a collector, more than Sannie is – you know, San loves pretty things.”

She already knew where this was going.

“Like me, Wooyoung?” she teased, beating him to his flirt.

“Just like you, Swanette.” He nudged her tea her way, urging her to drink before it went cold. “C’mon, try this too.”

And like that, her mind was sucked into his fancies as he fed her a warm tartlet that tasted richer than any food she had ever had.

It was the first night Wooyoung and San would be unable to walk her home. Wooyoung was good at keeping his promise; he walked her home for many many nights. His babbling softened with his sleepiness which was cute. It was worth it to press a kiss to her lips before she went inside, and even more worth it when he caught the shadow of a figure watching them. He’d blow him a kiss – behind her back that is.

She was anxious to walk alone. Her stomach churned at the though. Wooyoung had apologized as they rushed off to something that needed their attention – him and San. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, promising she’d be okay. He’d see her tomorrow. Walk in the light and you’ll be fine, little bird. As if she walked anywhere else anymore – all her shortcuts scared her now.

It was too late to call for a carriage or a buggy to take her home, so it was the only way. Unless she wanted to sleep on the uncomfortable settee in the boudoir (and most likely be kicked out by the janitor early in the morning. She could hear the Madame already. “This isn’t an orphanage, Miss YN.” Despite the selection of orphans that made up their ranks.)

So, YN hugged her jacket around herself and began her trek home.

And it was so peaceful. Not a whisper, not a fight, nothing. The streets were abandoned – even the men who were stumbling home drunk were absent. It was absolutely empty. Except for her.

And her stalker, of course.

San was early at the opera house the next day– so early the doors to the boudoir weren’t unlocked yet. Instead, he lingered out front, pacing this way and that.

“Sannie,” she exclaimed at the sight of him.

How did he know she was going to practice early today? The question was quickly forgotten as she hugged him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm bear hug before he pulled back to press a kiss to her nose.

Sweet, that’s what San was.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, smiling affectionately up at him.

They hadn’t shifted in their embrace; San kept her close to him as he looked down at her. There was clear fondness there. His fingers rubbed up and down her back, over her warm winter coat.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “You look so cute in your coat.”

His words brought a flush to her cheeks. This was what she imagined when she thought of Julia’s words. No way could this be false. He was cooing over her, his touch reverent. It was different.

“I love it,” she replied. “It keeps me warm. Just like you.”

He laughed, warmly. He brought her close to his chest again, hugging her. It was funny. For as much as he claimed Wooyoung was touchy, San loved skinship. He liked to keep her close.

“I got you something,” he whispered after a moment, shifting one arm to reach into his pocket.

“What’s this?”

In his small hand (well, small compared to his broad form) sat a beautiful bracelet, teardrop-cut diamonds were linked together into a delicate yet unbelievably expensive gift.

“For you.”

San smiled like a content cat as he watched her fiddle with the pretty diamond bracelet. His dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the jewels admiringly. He loved pretty things and seeing her openly awe made him buzz with excitement. Carefully, he linked the clasp over her wrist and turned her hand over in his, watching the gems glimmer and shimmer in the gas light. He grinned.

“What’s this for?” she asked, brows crinkling curiously.

It wasn’t like Wooyoung’s gift – a month anniversary gift – or even San’s gift of the coat, something she had needed in all honesty. This was sudden. Strange.

His fingers brushed over the jewels before he spoke again.

“I was jealous that Wooyo had this pretty necklace around your throat.”

He leaned forward, fingering the pearls around her throat before tugging experimentally at them like it was a leash. They tightened with the pressure, choking her lightly and forcing her to lean closer to her patron. YN’s breath stolen, not in pain but in a flicker of excitement, surprise, pleasure. Her head tilted back to smile up at him. His fingers tightened around the pearls ever so.

“Oh, honey,” San cooed soft and sweet as he continued to tug her up by the collar of her necklace to capture her lips in a kiss. One kiss that devolved into many as he pushed her up against the door to the boudoir, lifting her lightly into his arms. Pressed against the door, her bejeweled hand tangled in his hair, tugging him ever closer.

They were lucky no one passed by as they devoured one another.

San may have been a gentleman, but his greed and power revealed itself slowly but surely.

Another man was missing. He had been a regular in the boudoir. A young man who spent his spare pennies to leer at them. He wasn’t missed by any of the ballerinas, but it was frightening. Too many people were disappearing or getting into trouble.

Her mother and the other ladies at the factory walked together now. To and from work, in case trouble arose. She had even pushed for YN to walk with someone to the Opera House for once.

“Your boy is a good one,” she appraised. “That Wooyoung walks you here every night now. Like a gentleman. Stick around him.”

San had invited her out to another tennis match. Wooyoung had been caught up in business (business she still didn’t know of, she lamented as they walked along the cobblestone streets. San had whispered in her ear that it was boring. Wooyoung was unlucky to not be here with her. And he, in turn, was ever lucky.)

She wore his pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist, and, every time he stole a glance, his face curled up into a pleasant happy grin. He looked sweet like a kitten.

His arm wrapped around her waist as they sat and watch Yeosang’s match. Drinking champagne, he’d offer her his flute every so often, and she’d sip away. It was an expensive brand, far more easy to drink than the piss-poor alcohol the ballerinas could afford for their own celebrations away from the leering men of the opera. Drinking the expensive liquor the men offered was never a good idea – it led to worser things.

Yeosang looked as pretty as ever. He reminded her of a ballerino the way he danced about the court. Somehow both pretty and masculine as his form bent and stretched. Muscles rippled, leaner than San’s but not any less bulging. His arms flexed and she held onto the shared flue of champagne tighter.

San’s fingers stroked over her hip.

“You’re staring, honey,” he teased.

It wasn’t the tone of a jealous lover or a scolding of a respectable man. It was lilting, gentle. Her eyes looked away from Yeosang and rested on her date. He sipped his champagne, lips pursing and brows dancing. San’s lids were heavy as he grinned. Just as cat-like as earlier but more cheshire. Like he knew a secret.

He glanced away from her and looked over the athlete. His gaze mirrored hers, she realized. A fondness… no, an attracted air radiated in his deep brown orbs.

Was he teasing her? Was he genuine?

“Now, you’re staring,” she teased in return.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he replied coyly. He glanced back at her as he leaned in. “He’s handsome, hm?”

Her cheeks flushed at that and she looked away.

“San!” she exclaimed.

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held her closer. His lips pressed to her ear intimately.

“It’s alright, honey. He’s mine. Just as Wooyoung’s mine.” He replied easily. “Just as you are mine.” His lips kissed her skin before he pulled away. Her hand shifted to grasp his in hers. His thumb grazed over her bracelet lovingly.

Yeosang greeted them after his victory; the zing of celebratory champagne on his breath stinging her nose as he leaned forward to wrap her into an eager hug. Daring for a second-meeting. It made her worry she had been too obvious with her friendliness, her intrigue… her interest in the athlete. She did like him after all.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he beamed.

The smell of his cologne mingled with his sweat. Masculinity mixed with the soft thyme and tea of his perfume. It made her want to hug him closer. He pulled back, his eyes burning with the same intensity beforehand. A straightforwardness. He wasn’t afraid to meet her gaze. His honeyed eyes were sweet and inquiring. Taking in every feature of her – the dark coat, the pearls, the diamonds. He smiled.

“Hello Yeosang. Congratulations,” she returned.

The man nodded respectfully before he glanced over her shoulder at the tall muscled man, eyeing Yeosang with clear adoration.

“San,” he greeted.

“Yeosangie,” San replied with a fond grin. His cheeks were blushed, maybe from the champagne they shared?

The athlete rolled his eyes lightly, playfully, before he settled his gaze on the lady.

“Did you make any bets?” he asked curiously, leaning into her with intrigue.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. She hadnt even thought of that; she was a guest after all.

“You know what? Yeosang’s right,” San retorted. His hand squeezed her waist. “Next time, you should bet some coin. We do all the time.”

Her brows crinkled, doubtfully. Not because she doubted Yeosang’s abilities. He was a powerful athlete. But betting… she swallowed a bit. She didn’t have much money to risk in general. She had just gotten used to having extra coins in her coinpurse. Her embarrassment burned at her ears.

“I’m not sure,” she said softly.

Yeosang eyed her before he hummed lightly. His gaze settled back on San, firmly.

“I’ll do it for you,” San said instead, downing the rest of his drink. His eyes reopened from the gulp and he shrugged. “I’ll buy you anything, honey. Everything.”

Yeosang laughed, lips curling. Pleased. He leaned in to whisper close.

“You’ve got our San, sweetheart. Wrapped around your pretty finger.”

The athlete’s fingers were close by still, and they tickled her fingertips playfully. If he was any bolder, he’d be holding her hand. But instead, like a tease, he pulled back. Licking his lower lip and flashing a charming smile that only a socialite had. Easy and well-practiced.

“I’ll buy you anything, too, baby,” San purred towards Yeosang. He looked at the buff man with a raised brow. He always looked so sharp, in a delicate way despite his rippling muscles.

“I know,” he teased.

Yeosang raised a hand to squeeze the younger’s cheeks fondly. San smiled, pleased, a mirror of the grin he gave her earlier. His cheeks looked plump in the other’s lean long fingers. Yeosang chuckled, squeezing them again before his hand dropped and he turned.

“Come with me,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We can talk in the shade – the weather is horrid.”

He was right; the clouds were whirling and swirling into what was sure to be a downpour soon. They walked further into the tennis court’s shaded areas – the betting shop in the corner with a long line. People, mostly men, were cashing in their rewards. San’s hands went to rest on the small of her back; if she had glanced aside, she’d see he did the same to Yeosang, guiding the pair of them this way and that.

A rush of reporters, dressed for the weather with raincoats and large brimmed hats, flooded towards the winner. Yeosang slung his black tennis racket over his shoulder, smiling and waving at the flashing paparazzi’s cameras. Her eyes shut at the bright lights. San’s hand squeezed her waist and tugged her closer.

“Sir, congratulations!” There were cries of celebration and excitement. “Good show! Good show!”

YN wasn’t used to such fanfare, and it made her fantasize of the flashing lights she was hopeful for. One day… she glanced over at Yeosang. She’d be like him. Successful. In his own right. He grinned politely at a reporter, waving with a tight structured wave.

“Mr. Kim! Is it true you know Kim Yunho?” she heard over the chatter.

Yunho… she had heard that name before. But where? She didn’t have time to think as San guided them throughout the crowd, his hand curling over her hip to keep her closer with the writhing crowd jostling them this way and that.

The athlete didn’t reply, and he let his friend guide him through the swarm until they entered a tented area. Once the tent’s curtains were tied together, Yeosang huffed.

“I despise paparazzi,” he admitted, scuffing his feet against the concrete as he walked.

The space wasn’t special, but it was private. Scattered about were a few folding chairs, a wrought-wire bench, and a grey-green locker. Yeosang went to it, and opened it with ease. Within it wasn’t much. A folded assortment of clothes, a letter plastered to the locker’s interior, an extra racket, and a water jug. He placed his dark racket within and picked up the water jug. Raising the glass jug to his mouth, he took a big gulp. San patted her hip encouragingly as he moved away going to sit on the nearby bench. YN tentatively took a seat in a folding chair.

“Your performances of Swan Lake are coming to an end, are they not?” Yeosang queried.

“Oh, yes. They are; will you be able to attend closing night… or any show anytime soon? I’d love to see you there.” she admitted.

Yeosang’s lips quirked against the water jug’s rim before he pulled it away. Swallowing, he nodded. “I would love to see you once more, Miss YN. In your element.”

“You must encourage him to come backstage,” she turned to San. Less asking and more pressing.

He nodded in agreement. Easily swayed by his lovers, he leaned back in his seat casually.

“Is it like this?” Yeosang asked; a hand went to push back his locks, sweatied and damp.

The sight of his sharp brows quirking in curiosity sent a flare of excitement through her. He was so handsome; she couldn’t help but awe. San chuckled at her ogling.

“It isn’t, Yeo.” San admitted. “The backstage is grand and too open with too many girls running about half-dressed and men staring at them.”

Yeosang’s eyes flickered to him. “Even our girl?”

San glanced at her, head tilting. “Not as of late.”

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in between his lips. The look he gave Yeosang confused her – sharp, dark, and biting as he bit down on the cigarette before fiddling with a silver lighter. Yeosang hummed lowly.

“San and Wooyoung are polite,” she said, as if that would help the conversation. As if that was the topic at hand. “They’re the best gentleman in the boudoir. Honest.”

San grinned around his cigarette as he finally lit it. He knew she spoke the truth. She always did around him now. It made him happy to know she was so comfortable around them that she didn’t even notice the glares he sent the way of any man that dared eye her as she switched costumes.

Little did she know what would happen to one if they did.

He puffed out smoke.

“I’d rather see you outside this boudoir then,” Yeosang commented, closing the locker’s door. “I don’t wish to see you improperly, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you in that situation.”

“We don’t mean to either,” San coughed out, the smoke scattering about bashfully. He turned to look at her with the gentlest of eyes. “You’re painting me to be a villain, Yeo.”

“No, I know,” she interrupted. “I know San and Woo mean well.”

They had said so since the beginning. Wooyoung claimed he didn’t even know he was playing as potential patron until San said so. And now, well, she felt safe around them. When she was with them, when she was introduced to Yeosang, it made her feel permanent. Not a doll on a music box to show off around the right clientele.

Imara never had this.

“Still,” Yeosang tutted. “I’d hate that. If I had those reporters watching every little move I made back here.” He bared his teeth. “I’m sorry you have to suffer that, sweetheart.”

“Do you want diamonds?” San asked.

This was the fifth time he had asked if she wanted some grand gift as they walked home. The umbrella San had kept them mostly dry in the drizzle. YN knew he felt bad about the boudoir. Especially at Yeosang’s commentary.

“No,” she let out a chuckle.

“More pearls?” Not his favorite thing, but they looked pretty around her neck and they were useful.

“No,” she giggled, swinging their conjoined hands.

“Then what, honey?” he whined a bit, sounding childlike as he squeezed onto her hand.

She was surprised this bulky beefy man was acting so openly whiney in public. He didn’t need the illusion of masculinity to cling to; there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude. Even if he was acting like a child.

“I’m okay,” she said.

He licked the back of his lips. Doubtful. He frowned before stopping in the streets. The lamplighters were out and about, lighting the last remaining candle lights amongst the new gas-line lamps. He didn’t falter. He didn’t care if they were intimately close. His hand around her wrist as he pulled her close in the wet setting sun.

“What do you truly want, honey?”

What did she truly want? She smiled up at him. All her life she had only wanted and yearned for one thing – til Wooyoung and him and Yeosang all tumbled into her life that is.

“I want to be a ballerina. The ballerina prima,” she told him sincerely. Her hand rose to pat his cheek softly. “You are helping me get it.”

His lips pouted as he looked down at her. He didn’t like that answer. That was a harder request. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her lips, so quick one would’ve missed it if it hadn’t tasted of champagne and cigarette smoke. His sweetened coffee cologne wafted over her soothingly like a chaser.

“Extra edition!” a newsboy cried out.

YN had been walking towards the newest restaurant that San and Wooyoung insisted on trying. It was expensive. Far too expensive for her, but San insisted per usual and Wooyoung pouted that without her he’d be bored. So, here she was walking the streets towards the richer side of town. The richer side of town where all the newsies made their routes; the rich had money to spare.

“Star tennis player Kim Yeosang associated with Kim Yunho, the man released on 1 million coin for murder in broad-daylight! Shocking details revealed.”

Now, that caught her attention. Her feet slowed until she came to a stop. For once, it felt like the newsies had given just enough information to lure her in. Her coin purse pressed against her thigh was heavy. Heavy enough to spare a few coins to buy the paper.

“I’ll take one, Jack,” she told him, digging into her pocket to hand him the necessary amount.

The younger grinned up at her. “Thank you, Miss YN.” He shuffled the heavy stack around, untying the twine to present the fresh-printed and warm newspaper her way.

She nodded in thanks as she unraveled it and began to read.

San and Wooyoung sat in the corner of a restaurant, talking lowly in the shadows as they waited. Only to be interrupted by a newspaper being plopped down on the table. Their eyes shifted from one another to the newspaper. Doubtful, almost darkened looks were engrained in their faces before they glanced upward to see their swanette. Haloed by the light pouring into the café, her arms were crossed; brow raised. Their expressions softened immediately like butter.

“Hello, honey,” San rumbled. He tugged the chair out for her.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung added.

They hadnt looked at the paper yet.

“What the fuck is this?” she murmured, taking the seat easily as she shoved the headline their way.

Wooyoung licked his lips at her expletive. She didn’t curse much in the boudoir. Hearing it made his cell burn, biting at his lower lip after a moment. He glanced down at the paper; that hot feeling fizzled at the headline. He sighed, head rolling back, before he glanced San’s way. San’s expression hadn’t shifted; not even a twitch of his brow as he looked over his glasses at his partner.

“It’s a long story,” Wooyoung replied.

“I’ve got time,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Start with the part where Kim Yunho is living in your mansion. Kim Yunho, the man who shot a near-billionaire, dead, in broad-daylight after a supposed bet gone wrong.”

Her voice raised as she retold what the inky print said. She didn’t look intimidating in their eyes. Especially with her pout. San wanted to kiss it off her. Instead, he offered, “Yunho’s got a complicated past, but he only acted in self-defense.”

“He shot a man in broad daylight. Is Yeosang safe? Are you?” she worried. “Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung scooted close at that, hating the way her voice accelerated. San chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

“Oh, little bird,” Wooyoung hummed, taking her hand. “We are safe. We are safe. You don’t need to worry – is that why you are so upset?”

She frowned at them, her furrowed brow deepening. Wooyoung cooed.

“You are, oh, baby,” he hugged her, nearly joining her on her chair. “You are sweet, YN.”

“I’m worried; you are with a criminal,” she mumbled out, making sure her words were too loud. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Wooyoung stole a kiss. “You really are a doll, an angel. We are okay I promise.”

“You can’t just kiss me and tell me it’s okay. How? How is it okay?”

“Yunho is a free-man,” San reminded. “He didn’t break out of jail; he served his time; he paid his fees; he was let go. But apparently caught the attention of the press while doing so.”

“Poor Yeosang,” YN lamented suddenly. “He hated the paparazzi and now-“ she buried her head into Wooyoung’s shoulder.

The younger cooed. His hand going to pet at her back as he glanced over at San while her back was turned. There was a rustling of the newspaper, the crinkling paper being folded over.

“Yeosang will live. He’s been reported on his entire life. Yunho will not hurt us, promise, honey.” San replied. “You’re working yourself up. I’ll get you tea.”

There was a snapping sound of his fingers. A waiter obediently came. The man whispered his order as Wooyoung murmured to YN.

“It’s alright. It really is. You’ll see.”

San and Wooyoung’s eyes met once more.

They should’ve let Yunho meet her before this all happened; their shared grimaces said so.

Not even a day later, there were rumors about town. That night whispers about her patrons were all about the boudoir. The Ateez House truly was haunted some said. It had a killer living there. It made her scoff. There were seven others in that house – how could you build a house to be broken and haunted by one person?

The next day, a man from the newspaper company, the Cromer Chronicle, was missing. He had disappeared in the night without a trace. Or well, there was a trace. A letter saying he was going on vacation for a while. But few believed it.

Gossip roared. What was even more interesting, was that the newspaper headlines the next day were completely free of any mentions of Kim Yeosang or Kim Yunho.

But on her vanity, a letter rested with her name in an elaborate script signed by a certain man. The seal was the same ‘A’ emblem that both San and Wooyoung wore on a gold ring.

Miss YN.

You are cordially invited to join Kim Yeosang at the Ateez House estate for a night of fine dining. Casual attire permitted. I am so excited to see you again – if you will join me!

Yours,

Kim Yeosang

“Did you place this on the vanity?” she asked the two men who sat side by side on a sofa. Sometimes they looked too close for comfort; tonight was one of those nights. Wooyoung was nearly draped across San’s chest, his head cradled on his muscular shoulder as he stared up at her.

“No, swanette,” Wooyoung claimed. “Our hands are clean in this.”

He raised his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers playfully at her.

“Yeosangie must’ve liked you,” San added with a smirk.

“You’d know,” Wooyoung muttered; San grasped the other’s hip warningly.

Wooyoung giggled out almost like a hyena, head tilting back in mischief.

“You should’ve seen how he looked at her, Wooyo,” San continued, his gaze flickering towards YN from over his spectacles.

“I know,” the other giggled.

“Will you be there?” she asked tentatively.

Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the thick cardstock Yeosang’s handwriting graced. She was used to their presence. They felt safe to her. They glanced at one another. San’s fingers trailed up and down Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung went to interlace their fingers smoothly. Squeezing it once and then twice.

“I’m not sure, honey,” San said. “We have business to attend to this weekend.”

“Sorry, pretty,” Wooyoung pouted at her. “We may see you in passing? If you miss us so much, we can meet you here early the next day. I want to hear all about you and Yeosangie.”

She smiled sweetly at them, flushing at the idea that the pair of them encouraged her to dine and possible flirt with another. It was strange but not… unfavorable. Yeosang was handsome. He was delicate but strong. Eloquent and interesting. Understanding. She liked his company. Despite the company he kept… her mind flickered back to the elephant in the room… or yesterday’s newspaper in the nearby waste basket.

“Is… Yunho –“ she asked, shifting this way and that. San couldn’t help but think she looked so sweet, so innocent, so naïve in her little feather tutu, all virginal white. “Is it safe for me - with Yunho there?”

They didn’t even need to look at one another. Wooyoung’s hand held San’s tighter as he shifted his gaze to simmer on her.

“Yunho would never hurt a lady, honey,” San replied, sincerely and instantaneously.

His hand outstretched for her to take. Which she did. It was San after all. Secure, sweet, strong San. He’s been so straightforward. She trusted him. His fingers caressed over her knuckles, “Especially you.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I believe you.”

“Yeosang will be excited.” San promised, raising her hand for him to press a kiss to her knuckles. “We can deliver the news to him when we get home.”

He pressed a peck to each knuckle before continuing up her hand to press kisses over his bracelet. He placed a final sweet kiss to her pulse before pulling away, and pulling her towards their embrace. San could hold both of them in his lap after all. Wooyoung slid further down on the settee until his head rested on one of San’s thighs. His lips curled.

“I will send a car for you, swanette. You won’t have to lift a foot,” Wooyoung promised, reaching a hand up to tuck hair aside as she sat on San’s rippling thigh. “Easy-peasy.”

It was her first time in an automobile. She had traveled in carriages and open buggies but never something so expensive as a brand-new automobile. Something so polished and metallic and rich. Her excitement was almost like a child’s; her smile was bright at the sight of the car sitting curbside. Its lacquer was a deep-olive color, gleaming in the golden sunlight peeking out of the rain-heavy clouds. The chill that nipped at her heels and the rain that itched at the sky made her thankful that Wooyoung had sent a car for her – even if every single one of her neighbors were being nosey. She could see their faces pressed to their windows with curtains shoved aside haphazardly. No cars came here. And certainly, no car like this.

The driver was tall and handsome, his dark brown hair styled sharply across his forehead. A multi-layered suit with shimmering gold detailing looked expensive on his form, a long-coat making his appearance look clean cut and sleek. Just like the car.

His entrancing eyes were dark, siren-like as they locked onto her form as she hopped gracefully down the icy steps. He felt his breath catch. A mix of excitement and fear tumbled through his stomach. She looked so pretty. Her hair was done nicely and modern. Her day-dress was a pretty (if a bit washed out) green color, complimenting the car’s hue perfectly. The sparkle of her pearls around her throat and her diamond bracelet peeking from beneath the sleeve of the dark fur coat made him smile. His full lips quirked into a smirk of a close-lipped smile.

His eyes haven’t left her form yet. Not even when her mother stepped out to awe at the car and the man waiting for her on the curb.

“Hello, doll.” He greeted her, polite with a deep-voice.

His hand, covered in multiple rings, opened the passenger door for her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, and he wanted to swoon then and there. But he stayed firm, icy, tall. It wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But he knew the way to her house; he had a car. And he was higher than Wooyoung or San in the hierarchy. He’d do what he wanted to do… as long as the Captain allowed that is.

His eyes didn’t leave her as she entered the automobile, tucking her dresses beneath her lady-like. He closed the door behind her and circled around the car to enter the driver’s seat. He took a shaky breath before entering; he felt like a school boy. When was that a feeling he’s felt recently? (The Ateez House would say every time he whined and pouted at them like a princess.)

The interior of the car smelt expensive, too. The well-taken care of leather, the wiped down metal accessories, everything reeked of rich maintenance. Her eyes ate up the new machine, looking at the gearshift, the polished controls. There was even a record player in the dash.

She never realized how rich they were. It surprised her. He ate up how her eyes widened, and she sat so delicate, hands in her lap as if touching something would bite her. She was so cute. His lips curled into a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she let out a little sound of surprise.

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating around her. She glanced over at her driver. He looked casual in the driver’s seat. One hand was on the wheel; the gleam of an expensive watch shone at her. He was leaning back, his hand cupping the back of her car seat carefully as he began to pull the car away into the street.

He didn’t want to intimidate her. Wooyoung had said she was already so nervous about Yunho. So, he didn’t speak, didn’t tease, didn’t do much except drive. He enjoyed her gaze on him though. He watched her so many times that it made the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burn pleasantly. He tongued at his canines, hiding his smirk. His plush lips pursed instead.

Her awe shifted as he sped up, her eyes flickering to the streets that passed by, faster, faster, faster. Faster than any carriage or bike or trolley. It sent a whirl of excitement in her stomach.

“This is my first time in an automobile,” she admitted into the silence.

“It is?” his voice was deep as honey, and it made her spine tingle.

He glanced over at her. He wanted to show her so many new things. He was glad to have one of her firsts. Wooyoung had stolen so many. Her first date, her first kiss, her first embrace. He’d at least be her first car ride – one of many. He’d take her in any of his cars – if they were in the countryside rather than the city, he’d show her how fast these automobiles can go. He’d impress her. They’d go one day, he imagined. They’d go all sorts of places together. He’d show her the world if she wished it.

She hummed out in agreement, pulling him from his daydream.

“It’s nice,” she complimented, shifting her seat.

A flood of rose-petal aroma consumed him. Her perfumed skin. She put so much care into this; into them. It was intoxicating. His eyes locked on the road, his fingers trembling lightly. He flexed his hand and gripped the leather of the wheel tighter.

“Thank you, darling.”

The car ride was a quick one. Ateez House was on the outskirts of the city but not too far away to be a long journey. Just far enough to be private amongst the trees and rolling hills. It looked more alive than it had ever been in all the years she lived in Cromer. While the estate was sprawling and the mansion itself large and imposing with a complicated layout, it always looked abandoned. But now, there were crystal windows gleaming with light, gardeners trimming bushes, and luxury cars pulling into a nearby car garage. People tended to the large fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway, despite the threatening rain that rumbled in the sky. The mansion’s greyness seemed to fade with the orange-light the windows poured into the evening.

It was a phantom resurrected; the flame of life was burning within the house once more.

Mingi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Ateez House, YN.”

Her eyes were locked on his home; winding over the overlapping rooftops, grazing the glowing windows to see if anyone was looking out at them. Two figures, dark silhouettes at most, stood on the upper floor, one short and the other tall.

Her head tilted in curiosity before they walked off.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him before going to open her door. “And thank you for the drive.”

There was a squeak of leather as he shifted closer suddenly. His arm outstretched over her, bracing over her chest. Her gasp was all the sound that filled the air between them. Her head turned and they were nearly nose-to-nose.

He was so close. The blood-orange of his cologne licked at her senses, mingling with the polished leather so refreshingly. He smelled intoxicating and sharp. His face was only inches away; the fabric of his long-coat brushed against her. His hand closed around the metal handle of the car door, gently nudging hers aside. He laughed out nervously. His eyes were wide and gentle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he flashed the sweetest grin she had ever seen, all toothy and bright. It sparkled… wait, he had diamonds on his teeth. His canines were adorned with gems that gleamed in the setting sun.

“Let me,” he bumbled out. He opened the door from within, before pulling his arm back. His cheeks were painted a rosy color that only made his flustered appearance look more sweet.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grin of her own.

She hoped he wasn’t too surprised by her own initial surprise. He was just trying to be a gentleman she realized. Bowing her head, she quickly ducked out of the car, closing the door behind her with care.

The only thought that filled his brain – besides the intoxicating smell of YN – was ‘damn you for winning, Yunho.’ After a long moment of breathing the remains of her deep into his lungs and watching her form walk towards his house, Mingi restarted the automobile with a rumble to guide it back to their private car garage.

Everything reeked of extravagance. Tall walls with recess ceilings and wainscotting details. Gilded gold and glowing gas-lamps. Italian-Renaissance inspired tiles of saints, angels, and the Heavens were inlayed in the ceiling. The floor was patterned, a rich expensive textile making up the carpet.

There were butlers lining the walls of the foyer; all in matching midnight pin-striped suits. It was almost eerie. They were like statues, repeating over and over and over. Expressionless. Each face was stoney, eyes ahead. It reminded her of when the ballet troupe lined up in their matching leotards and were separated by height; row after row. Slicked back hair, delicate body lines, starving ribs. Identical and indistinguishable until they reached prima title.

None of them acknowledged her except for one, a rogue, that walked up and nodded at her politely.

“Welcome to the mansion, Miss YN. Please, come.” He outstretched his hand to encourage her further into the lavish space.

She curtsied, uncertainly. One of the many ghostly butlers took her coat as she walked down the foyer’s hall. Her kitten heels were soft against the carpet flooring until they rounded a corner. They click-clacked across marble flooring, polished ‘til she could see her reflection.

“Mr. Yeosang has requested a meal to be prepared at the West Wing. Please follow me.” The same butler spoke once more before he turned to lead the way.

Following after him, she was awed by the space. The very place that had been teased and taunted and ghost storied about was a gleaming jewel. As they walked, she realized how each hallway, each living space was opulent. The current path had walls that were painted an ice-cold baby-blue. Yet there were touches of warmth everywhere. Fine art in gold-leafed frames, elaborate trims around columns and the floor were the same shining gold. The art was all heavenly. Literally. Gods, angels, and disciples portrayed in blurred brush strokes, painted with colors that ached of softness. Everything was all gold, fluff, and magnificence.

The ceiling had multiple heavy hanging chandeliers of pure jewels. Diamonds dripped from its wire frame and sparkled in the gas-light. Everywhere was gaslit; she was surprised. No one had notice workers here and yet it was modern. Not a speck of dust or age present anywhere – besides the ancient art she supposed.

She slowed as she passed a large Renaissance-esque painting full of cherubs with feathered wings and glowing haloes. Squinting, she saw one figure wearing a ski mask. Huh? A cat meowed nearby. Her attention was caught, her head turning to the sound. She stilled as she glanced down a nearby hall, one that seemed darker than the others. Doors lined each wall; all shut except for one at the end of that hall. It was opened just a crack, the siren call of a piano trickled out, and a little cat peered around its corner. The sweet cat was a midnight-black, almost blue-ish in tone; her tail twisted behind her as she meowed out again.

YN’s eyes lit up at the sight; the cat meowed again as it wiggled itself out of the doorway. Its paws and claws clinked against the tile, almost in rhythm with the piano music playing. Large green eyes peered up at her curiously as the cat approached; the collar around its throat was expensive – a leather thing with jewels, pearls, and a large silver bell that jingled out the closer it got.

She meowed at her again.

The piano stopped; the reverb humming out discordantly.

“Z?” a voice called out before a gentle melodic whistle chimed out.

The kitty’s attention was caught again, its ears perking up and meowing as if answering the call of its owner. It began to stroll back where it came from.

“Miss YN,” the butler’s monotonic called out.

Her head snapped towards him, answering his call immediately. She stood from the slight crouch she had taken for the kitten’s approach. Her butler stood some feet away, arms behind his back. She expected a disapproving look, but he provided none.

“Please follow me, Miss. We wouldn’t want you disappearing.”

That was almost worse! It sounded so ominous coming from his stone-faced mouth. She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she apologized before she quickened her pace to catch up to him.

“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

They continued to walk down this hallway and that hallway. Someone could easily get lost here. It was like a grand castle. Finally, after crossing some carpeted stairs, they were in front of a grand hallway of windows. As they passed, she could see a dreary exterior. Rain had begun to pour, fogging the outside in grey. But she could distantly see a maze of hedges, rose bushes, apple trees, and all sorts of gardens awaiting. She awed at the sight as they continued down the carpeted hall to come to a set of dark oak doors.

“One moment, Miss,” the butler warned as he entered the room quickly.

“Boss, er, sir – “

The doors shut behind him before she could hear any more. She was left alone. YN glanced aside at the wall opposite of the windows. There were inlayed gas lamps, glowing a soft yellow. A portrait hung nearby, painted in a similar style as the painting she saw before.

It was of a young man, a handsome one at that. His inky-black hair was slicked back in shiny waves, a singular strand curled over his forehead daintily. He was in all white, soft silken tunic and oversized bowtie of virginal white. Despite the softness of his attire and of the atmosphere surrounding him (he was almost painted with his own divine halo as if he was an apostle), there was sharpness to his midnight-black eyes and the smirk of his mischievous smile. His ears were pierced up and down, pearls and fine metals looping them in sparkles. A twinkle was shining at the corner of his grin as if his teeth gleamed in the heavenly light around him. He was beautiful, but she couldn’t help but feel like his dark eyes were staring her down.

The tall doors opened behind her suddenly. YN turned to see the reveal of a dining hall as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. But the aroma that wafted from its interior was far more intoxicating.

“Enter, Miss YN.” The butler encouraged, beside the door.

He held them open for her as she took a stride inside. Her lips widening into a smile as she prepared to greet Yeosang at the head of the table. But this was no Yeosang she realized as she gazed down the long, lavish table to meet the dark gaze of a stranger.

With a calculated look, he stared at her from the head of a ten-chaired, decadent table of hot food. It was more than she had eaten in months even with San and Wooyoung: sizzling side dishes, steaks covered in thick luscious sauces, cracked fruits that had a sweet nectar gleaming on them, chocolate-oozing pastries. An open bottle of red wine rested in a frosted chest of ice; eight crystal glasses sat upside down. One glass of red wine sat in front of her spot; the other in the grasp of the man’s hand. The ruby liquid gleamed like blood. A sea of lit-candles decorated the spare space of the table; the chandelier above keeping the candles instead of trading them for their gas-lit counterpart. The orange glow illuminated the intimate room in a hazy feel. Smoke trailed out of his mouth in a long plume, perfuming the delicious air with the heady scent of tobacco.

“Hello.”

His voice was a soft drawl. His close-lip smile was the same. Soft, slow, and confident. His eyes were illuminated by the flickering candles, making the darkness there look like a night sky spattered with stars rather than with blood. He tapped his cigarette into a crystal ash tray with his long fingers. Rings after rings curled over his knuckles; some sharp and some with the emblem ‘A’ just like San and Wooyoung shared. He raised the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag into his lungs.

“YN.” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke her name tenderly.

She should’ve left then, knowing it was different from what she had agreed to. She should’ve asked him where Yeosang was immediately – and who was he? But she already knew, didn’t she? She had worried about this man since she read the newsprint that bore his name.

She shifted, fingers tugging at her skirt as she heard the heavy wood doors shut behind her. The butler that led her here disappearing, leaving her with him. Her fingers pressed into the door behind her, tentatively. It didn’t budge beneath her. In the shadows of the room, she saw there were men lining the wall. Like ghosts, they didn’t speak or move – they simply stood like gargoyles surrounding a castle. One broke the line to pull out her chair opposite of her dining companion. Her eyes flickered back to the man at the head of the table.

“Hello,” she said instead. “Yunho.”

It wasn’t a stutter, but there was a pause in her words. Yunho’s laughter was almost fond as he chuckled out a plume of smoke before she was urged forward with a flick of his hand. Ashes splattered across the white dining cloth, sizzling burns into the fabric. She sat down in the chair pulled out for her; the servant pushed her in towards the table with a screech of the wooden legs against the wood.

The silverware in front of her was polished, gleaming in the candle-light. A perfectly folded napkin rested on the center of her gold-lined plate. The initial ‘A’ in a circle was embroidered fancifully in shiny black thread on the pristine white fabric.

Her fingers flexed against the wood arm rests of her chair as she looked down the table, over candles, meats, cheese, and vegetables at the intimidating man. He was far away, but perhaps that was the safest option for her.

“I like you already,” he proclaimed, his words solid and confident. His smile simmered.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the piles of food in front of them with a hand, swinging the cigarette and a trailing path of smoke about. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Her stomach felt tight with nerves, but even so it grumbled at the sight before her. Everything smelt so nice and rich and oily. Decadent. She licked her rosy lips, dragging her eyes up to look at him once more.

“Where’s Yeosang?” she asked finally.

He smiled, a peak of glimmering teeth shining in the candlelight. No, it wasn’t his teeth that shined – it was the inlayed diamonds on his canines that twinkled. Just like the driver. Just like the painting.

“He’ll join us,” Yunho reassured. “He’s running late from a previous engagement. I promise.”

Her gaze was doubtful. Why didn’t he just tell the driver to alert her? She could wait. She was used to waiting upon rich men.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was curious of you.” He stated as he raised his cigarette to his mouth once more. As he breathed out, he gestured again at the food. “Please help yourself. Wooyoung told me some of your favorites.”

There were her favorites; steaming and hot. Some tartlets from their recent date sat on a pearlescent serving tray. Tempting. Her stomach grumbled. Watching him carefully, she reached out a fork to stab into a piece of meat and plating it.

“I’m just a ballerina,” she claimed, eyes flashing to look at him as she picked up her utensils to cut at the singular item on her plate.

Yunho’s lips quirked up on one side before he glanced aside at a man. He nodded towards her and she couldn’t help but jump as a suited butler approached. Yunho’s gaze took in the small tension that rippled through her.

The butler began to pile up her plate with this and that. Steaming vegetables, savory pastries, fluffy mashed potatoes scented with garlic, sticky soy-sauce braised meats, pasta with a rich cream sauce, seafood with clarified butter. It was more food than she could finish. The amount of food laid out was enough to feed eight men.

“You’ve entranced my brothers for being more than just a dancer,” Yunho commented. “I wanted to see what was so special about their swanette.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. She felt like a trapped bird in a zoo being observed. She tried to imagine the boudoir around her rather than the intimacy of a dining table.

“I’m a good dancer,” she told him boldly. They like bold, an older ballerina’s voice was in her ear once more.

Yunho smiled. “I heard. I apologize for never attending a performance.” He said.

“You’ve been… busy,” she said. But not too bold. Another ballerina warned.

It was a dig, and Yunho knew it. She knew it too with how wide her eyes became. And still, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes simmered.

“Its no wonder Wooyoung took to you,” he breathed.

He raised his glass of wine to his lips and took a long sip. At the mention of Wooyoung, he saw the way the muscles in her face flickered. Lightening. Interesting. Placing the glass down, he leaned forwards, hand resting under his chin as he stared at her, intrigued.

She was intriguing. She had four members of the family wrapped around her little finger and here she was in his sticky webs. Yunho ached to figure her out, dive deeper. The vein in his forehead bulged a bit with his intensity.

His eyes felt magnetic. She had cut up her slice of steak into tiny bites at this point, but all he had done was stare at her. He had not a lick of food on his own plate. It felt more like an interrogation than a meal at this point.

So, she stared back. Her eyes met his, swallowing down her fear. The twisted mangled amalgamation of fear, intrigue, and something else. She was safe, she chanted internally. Wooyoung promised. San promised. He hadn’t done anything to her…yet.

She took in his appearance. While his eyes were a hypnotizing thing, his entire face was like one of a siren’s. Handsome with chiseled features. Sharp cupid’s bowed lips, sharp brows, sharp clean lines of his suit. A pair of glasses were tucked into his pocket… he needed glasses just like her Sannie. Her eyes darted up the line of his throat. His hand rose to bring his cigarette back to his lips. He tilted his head, the midnight-black hair swaying over one eyebrow smartly.

How were all these men so handsome? The driver, her patrons, Yeosang, Yunho. All breathtaking compared to the oil-grubby handed rich men of Cromer. It made her soften just a smidge, guard walls lowering as he breathed out smoke once more. Lips pursing delicately. Cheeks soft, she noticed. It was quiet. The clinking of her utensils against her meal was the only sound in the hall.

“Do you like dancing?” she asked. Dancing was safe. Dancing was all she knew.

“Enough,” he said. “My brothers like it more than myself.”

Brothers he said again. It was strange. Wooyoung spoke of the others as friends, dear ones – explained that the shared last name was something pushed upon them. Yunho embraced it.

“Then, sports?” she countered. “Tennis perhaps?”

Yunho chuckled lowly, and it felt like a tiger’s rumble. “No,” he laughed. “Not particularly – though, I have good hand-eye coordination.”

Her mind flashed to the shooting the newspaper relayed – a fictionalized imagining in her head bloomed. Him and his gun aiming and firing with ease, just like that man in the alley way.

“Oh,” she breathed.

He wondered if she knew how blatant her face revealed things. Her fear, her thoughts, her soul. It was strange though. Yunho didn’t want her frightened.

“I play against Yeosang often,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she repeated, a different tone trickling into her exclamation. Her knife scraped against the plate’s china, screeching out suddenly like a soprano at an opera house. Her gaze turned to it, surprised.

Her meat was completely shredded now. Almost inedible with how much she had sawed into it over and over.

Yunho laughed again, the sound warm and full. “Darling,” he cooed out, soft. “Please relax and eat. I insist. Yeosang won’t mind.”

Yeosang. Of course, that’s why she was prolonging it. Her smile was bashful and Yunho’s eyes swallowed it up just like she bit into a piece of her meal finally.

“Will you not eat?” she asked.

Innocent, sweet. Yunho’s eyes simmered as he reached out to grasp a fruit from an intricately weaved wired basket. He bit into a red apple, sharp and vicious. Juice dripped over his fingers, down his chin. He raised a black napkin to the corner of his lips wiping it away. His eye contact never ceased. Did he just wink?

“How long have you lived in Cromer?” he asked.

“My entire life,” she admitted.

He hummed out. “And the ballet almost as long I suppose?”

“Ballerinas are taught young,” she said.

“The best way to shape someone.” He snubbed his cigarette out in his ash tray.

“I suppose,” she admitted. “But I love dancing. Truly.”

It was spoken sincerely, passionately. He nodded. “It’s been mentioned. They say one can tell by just the way you breath. You are full of it.”

“D-dancing?” she queried.

“Love.” he countered. “Passion.”

Her eyes blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

“Do you love them?” he asked directly. His head tilted curiously.

The topic had shifted in tone dramatically suddenly. Her heart raced to its hummingbird speed once more. Her face blushed. Yunho drank it all in like the wine in his glass.

There was a clambering down the hall way, muffled by the oak doors. Her gaze broken from his, and she looked over her shoulder at the doorway.

“Here he comes now,” Yunho whispered.

As predicted, Yeosang came busting through the doors. His hair askew, his eyes burning with the cruel fury she had only seen on the court. His elegant clothes looked rumpled; the softness of his sweater that cut into a deep v revealed more skin that she had seen of the sportsman yet. A rose was pinned on his chest, gentlemanly, and yet somehow tempting her to stare at his chiseled chest more. A decorative scarf wrapped around his throat, disheveled.

He glared at Yunho with such contempt before it was washed away at the sight of her. He glanced her up and down, quickly as if his lingering gaze would be scolded. Appropriately for such an inappropriate action. His lips parted gently; his rounded face soft with a gentle blush.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he immediately apologized, head bowing.

The long strands of russet-brown hair that framed his face swooped over his cheeks. His hand rose to tuck one strand back. “I was caught up with something unexpectedly.”

With little show, she stood, discarding her utensils to greet him. Her smile was soft, reassuring, genuine. She ducked her own head to catch his gaze – he was still glaring through his lashes at the man at the head of the table she noticed. But when he saw her own face come into view he straightened sweetly, awkwardly. But in such a charming way somehow. Yeosang was so charming even in his anger and discomfort. She didn’t want him to be in discomfort.

“Its alright,” she reassured him.

“We’ve just been chatting,” Yunho chimed from the end of the table. Unhelpfully.

Yeosang adjusted his leather gloves nervously, tugging them off finger by finger.

“I see that.” Yeosang rumbled.

His eyes settled back on her like she was his seas’ moon.

“You look lovely, YN,” he complimented. Her smile lit up the room, he swore.

He licked his lips, deep voice humming out as he looked over the table.

“I-I,” he gestured to the table, the meal he had ordered the chef to prepare, “I have those tarts you liked at the café on Riverfield Street.”

She smiled at him; he was so cute.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “And I saw. They look perfect.”

He breathed out a little, fixing his clothes once he tucked his gloves into his back pocket.

“It’s been perfect,” she tried to reassure him, sensing his anxieties. His blooming nerves. Her hand reached out to squeeze his.

He jolted at her touch, just enough for her to catch it. His ears were red. Yunho’s grin was wide, sparkling.

“Thank you for the invite.”

“Of course, I wanted –” he glanced at Yunho’s leering gaze. “I wanted to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“And we shall,” Yunho agreed. “Sit, Sangie. Let’s eat.”

A butler appeared to pull out a seat for him. It wasn’t near either of them, in fact. It was the third seat to the left side of the table. Yeosang glanced at the butler silently before pulling out the chair directly beside YN and seating himself.

He was served a selection of the meal, silently. She went to break the silence.

“How are you?” The headline still brandished itself in her mind. His words about paparazzi left a lasting impact.

Yeosang huffed out. “Well,” he replied. “News articles come and go. I’ll remain on top of my game regardless.”

Yunho nodded steadfastly from across the table. “It’ll be nothing by the next game.”

Yeosang offered her a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’ve survived worse.”

She nodded solemnly. “I don’t like it still.” Yunho watched the interaction carefully. His brow quirked.

“How are you liking Cromer?” she asked. She was used to asking men how they enjoyed the show… but that wasn’t an option here when the room lulled into silence.

“It’s different. But I’ve seen places as beautiful as Aurora, as desolate as the Strictlands, and as rural as Paradise. Cromer reminds me of Aurora in a different way.” Yeosang explained. “It feels homely.”

She smiled. “Ateez House is yours, correct?”

“Its in the family,” Yeosang replied.

“What do you think of it?” Yunho queried.

“Its very nice,” she politely said.

Yeosang tilted his head fondly at her. “Meaning?”

Her brows crinkled in surprise. “Its—nice?” she repeated.

“Shall I remind you what San encourages you to do, sweetheart?”

To be honest. How did he know about that? Her neck and ears became a soft pink in the candlelight. Swallowing, she glanced to the side.

“It is genuinely nice – its just… this house has been called haunted my whole life,” she told them. “There are ghost stories linked to this mansion. It’s strange being here and seeing that it is, in fact, not rotting or some supernatural force of nature.”

Yeosang chuckled out, smiling sweet.

“There are stories?” he leaned in. “Do tell!”

“I love a good gruesome story,” Yunho commented.

But for some reason, the way the words lilted in his tone didn’t make her flinch like before… in fact, was he teasing her? Her eyes flickered from Yeosang’s open form to Yunho. His cheek rested on his hand; elbow pressed into the table as he eyed her with Yeosang.

He smirked at her as they met one another’s eyes. He nodded, urging her. And so, YN went into the ghost story she had been told as a little girl, sitting among the tutu’ed training ballerinas while her mother did alterations on the prima’s show-stopping costume.

“The story goes that this house was home to a Captain,” she started, twirling pasta about her fork as she spoke.

Yunho and Yeosang’s eyes locked.

“The Captain was no ordinary captain; he was the fiercest pirate king of all. With his crew, the Black Pirates, they terrorized the seas and reaped countless treasures. When he grew old and hoarding like a dragon, he docked at Cromer under a false name. Ateez House was built upon blood-soaked jewels and coins; they say the pirate captain passed in his vault, hidden deep in the mansion’s basements. His bones are still there, unrested. His ghost terrorizes the house and refuses to let any soul except his pirates’ prowl.” She dramatically told.

Her fingers wiggled sensationally. “Or that the treasure was haunted by those they robbed and killed mercilessly. Their ghosts remain and haunt these halls.” She shrugged her hands landing back in her lap. “The story changes every so often.”

“What a story,” Yunho breathed. “Do you believe it?”

“It’s just a story. Maybe there are some real parts but… ghosts aren’t real. I’m not that silly of a girl.”

“You aren’t,” Yeosang commented immediately.

“But everyone in town knows it, so it sticks,” she told them, reaching out for the glass of wine in front of her and taking a sip.

“Cromer loves its gossip.” Yeosang commented.

“They’re stuck in their ways,” Yunho added.

“What do you think of Cromer?” she redirected to Yunho.

He took a small breath in. His previous grimace faded and his brow crinkled as he looked at her thoughtfully. His lips pressed together before replying.

“At first,” Yunho said, tilting his chin. “I did not like it… but now…”

His gaze felt hot, ever present. There wasn’t a barrier of modesty she often felt with other men. Yeosang’s was intense. San’s was careful, observant. Wooyoung’s eager and challenging. Yunho’s was steadfast. Confident. Even the men in the boudoir knew there were limits. They had their wives. They had their image with the other men within the boudoir itself. Here she felt both hunted and examined. Admired but equal. He was looking at her soul.

“Now, I like it.” Yunho purred. “Very much, darling.”

He placed his silverware down with a clink. He leaned forwards, hands pressing into the table.

“There’s more to you that meets the eye,” Yunho commented. “I see that, so now I will let you speak your mind, truthfully.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was he going to ask her about her love again? In front of Yeosang?! Her eyes remained on him steadily. Her ears burned.

“You’re frightened of me, yes?” he said.

It was strange to feel relief at the confirmation of something so horrible. Because she was still nervous around him, for his boldness frightened her just as much as his previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes shifted to her, widening as he watched her nod.

“Sweetheart,” he reached out for her hand, petting her phalanges but not grabbing it. He simply wished to reassure her. Just as she had done for him earlier.

“San and Wooyoung said I didn’t have to be,” she replied. She licked her lips.

“Ask me what you want to know.” He stretched back into his chair, neck flexing as he met her gaze.

“Is it true? Should I be frightened?”

“That’s not it,” he laughed a bit, lip curling almost scornfully, scoldingly. He raised a brow, head tilting as if weighing his options. “But no, you don’t need to be frightened. Ask another.”

“I don’t have another question.” She countered, only to state simply and firmly. “You shot a man.”

And he smiled. “I did.” Yunho confirmed.

“On purpose?” she asked.

“Yes, darling.”

Her blood felt cold. She hadn’t met someone like him and it sent her stomach into a cramping mess. Yeosang did take her hand now. Interlacing his fingers softly. He glanced over at his elder as he rose from his chair. Oh, Yunho was tall. Very tall, in fact. With them sitting, he looked giant. His heels thudded against the floor.

“Why?” she asked. Yeosang felt her hand tighten in his grasp.

“He tried to fool me, steal from me,” Yunho stated, walking towards them. “Lied to me. I don’t like being played.”

There wasn’t a moment for the words to sink in for YN. Instead, like a game of tennis, she shot back.

“So, you shot him? Just like that?”

“For your information, yes.”

“That’s frightening.”

“Yes.” Yunho was beside Yeosang now.

“But!” Yeosang was the next to interrupt. “If you must know… Yunho isn’t some cruel man, sweetheart. It was done in self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” she asked doubtfully. Wooyoung and San said so themselves as well.

The air that Yunho carried seemed to be more than that. He wasn’t exactly proud, but he was at peace with what he did. Yunho’s face pulled into a tight thing as he rested a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. They both looked at her inquiringly.

“He pulled a blade on Yunho,” Yeosang interjected. His gaze flashed to her. “He has the scars to prove it.”

They had an answer to everything. It was self-defense. Not a thing of violence. Of necessity.

She stared at them

“It wasn’t… he struck first?” she repeated slowly.

They glanced at one another before smiling at her with dual grins. Yunho tapped his fingers on Yeosang’s shoulder before he pulled back. A hand went to his chest, gentlemanly and earnest in nature.

“Yes.” He ensured.

Her eyes flickered to Yeosang. He had been a sensible figure – likeable, nothing formidable. If he trusted him, if her Wooyoung and San did. Yunho spoke with such authority. He valued truth just like San did.

Her defensiveness, something she didn’t even see in her body language, softened. Yunho’s sigh was one of understanding as he walked back to his seat, stealing a glance at her. He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the cande light.

“YN.” He spoke her name luxuriously. “If there is one thing you should know about me. I don’t do mess.”

He plucked a dessert from his plate, biting into the chocolate with slowness. Calculated. He kept her gaze. It sent a thrill through her; he sent a thrill through her. Swallowing together, the corner of his lip curled. He raised a napkin to his lips, gentlemanly.

He was a gentleman, straightforward and powerful. He had to be telling the truth.

“I’m not a messy man, darling-doll.”

The dinner didn’t last much longer. Yeosang encouraged conversation; Yunho threw in some topics, mostly of things she had mentioned to San and Wooyoung. It struck her then that they shared many stories about her. They must’ve talked about her a lot. It made her cheeks flush as red as the chocolate strawberries Yunho ate.

Their eyes were hot on her; it felt like they were captivated and it made her heart race. Like she was on the stage.

She liked it.

Surprisingly, her two patrons made an appearance at the end of the meal. Wooyoung, of course, was the one to pop his head into the grand dining room.

“Swanette!” he beamed at the sight of her.

Yunho took in how her shoulders softened and her chest heaved at the sight of Wooyoung, at his voice. He smiled, softer and truer than any other smile he shared tonight so far.

Wooyoung was dressed the most casual she had ever seen him. A fashionable patterned white-and-black button-up shirt was barely buttoned, revealing a black ribbed tank-top beneath it. His hair was pushed back casually and messy; a rolled cigarette was behind his ear. His slacks were a deep black, loose and flowy rather than a structured fabric.

“Woo,” she barely got out, her mouth dropping at the sight of him.

He smirked, arms slinking over the chair and over her shoulders.

“Hello hyungs,” he greeted the others, barely glancing at them before ducking his head and pressing a less-than-decent kiss to her mouth. Smothering and all consuming. She squeaked into it. A ringed hand rose to cup her guide her head in the kiss, icy cold against her flushed red cheek.

Yeosang and Yunho chuckled out. The sound was a mixture of fondness and annoyance. Yunho’s brow twitched. Yeosang’s hand held hers tighter… he hadn’t let go, of course. But YN hadn’t noticed the entire dinner and dessert. ‘Til now. Her fingers flexed in his as Wooyoung swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Alright,” San scolded Wooyoung, his hand going to the back of the shorter’s neck. He nearly pried him off her. “Wooyoung!”

“I missed her,” Wooyoung said simply, flushed face and breathless.

His hot breath fanned over her rosy face; his lips were spicy and left hers burning. Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he stole another kiss from her lips. San pulled him back again with a harsher hand.

It was then she got a glance of her other patron. San had freshly washed hair, the locks combed out and dripping over his forehead. He wore a similar tank top to Wooyoung, but in a white shade. Shockingly, he had a pair of workman’s light-washed blue jeans hugging his thighs. Thick thighs, muscular shoulders, tawny honey skin. It was tantalizing, tempting. But when she looked over his face, her mouth dropped in surprise. A bruise kissed at the corner of his lips; his sweet smile tarnished with a purple-red watercolor splotch.

She couldn’t help stand immediately, half in the clutches of Wooyoung. Her hand rose to cup San’s cheek.

“Honey!” he exclaimed out in surprise.

He didn’t shift away, actually bending at the knee for her height, but San was certainly surprised. He had taken the lead between them often. YN rarely made the first move with either of her patrons. But what he had mistaken for sexual tension only led to pain. He was shocked when her thumb’s brush against his lips made pain radiate up his face.

“Ow,” he whimpered, frowning. His brow furrowed.

Yeosang laughed nearby. “He forgot he’s hurt,” the athlete commented.

“It’s been a while,” Yunho added, finishing his drink as he watched the interaction play out.

San’s lips pressed together, blinking rapidly before taking in the concern look on her face.

“Oh, honey, I’m okay,” San tried to reassure. His hand rose to cup her hand that was pressed to his jaw, thumb brushing over it soothingly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You just said ow, you liar,” she scolded him, brows furrowing. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he swore, tilting his head to press a kiss that stung his mouth to her palm. “Promise.”

“This town is getting more and more dangerous,” she breathed out.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek softly. His pretty face marred. Without his glasses on, she could see how his eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s candlelight. Soft and starry, as if she hung the world.

“You are an angel,” he murmured. “I’m okay. I’ll live.”

“Wooyoung, will you tell me what happened?” she prompted, not moving. Wooyoung pressed to her side made a humming sound.

“The streets are rough around here,” he said. “Someone really ought to fix that.”

Yunho huffed from across the long table.

San smiled at her again, eyes falling into half-moons. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips stung to do so, but she was worth it. “Thank you for worrying.” He told her. His stomach did somersaults at the thought of her jumping to his aid.

“Shall we walk you out, swanette?” Wooyoung directed instead, head tucking over her shoulder to look at the table. “Yunho has a meeting to attend unfortunately.”

Yunho hissed in through his sparkling diamond-inlayed teeth. “Does the—”

San nodded.

He breathed in through his nose before offering YN a simmering smile. Full of warmth. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss YN. I hope to see you very soon.” He bowed politely before with long-legged strides left the room. Wooyoung winked at him as he passed.

“I’ll join you,” Yeosang offered YN. “You must come visit again soon – in the spring, the gardens are beautiful. We could have tea or -”

“Yeosang likes to take long strolls through the gardens – even if it’s raining,” Wooyoung revealed, finally peeling himself off her back to look at the selection of food laid out. He plucked a grape from a platter.

“You gossip like the upper-class now,” Yeosang commented, raising a brow.

Wooyoung laughed brightly at his friend before popping the fruit into his mouth. “Eh, they rub off on you – I had to keep up with you, Sangie.”

Hmm, it was an interesting interaction. Playful but also… strange. She knew their pasts implied they hadn’t always been wealthy… Yeosang had been a protégé tennis player at a young age but how did he meet Wooyoung? Was it all because of Hongjoong?

San’s hands squeezed her waist. When had both of his hands shifted there? “You sleepy, honey?” he asked.

“Too filling of a meal,” Yeosang complained as he rose to his feet.

As if the food was her reason to getting lost in her head.

“It was perfect,” she countered, taking a step back. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Thank you for gracing us,” Yeosang replied, offering her his hand. She took it, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A picture of a gentleman. But he was quick to wrap her arm up into his, pulling her into his side now. Surprisingly daring for the Yeosang she knew.

“Shall we?”

Their exit seemed to take forever just as before. Yeosang lead her down hallway after hallway after hallway. It almost felt like they were navigating a maze. San and Wooyoung framed the two in; Wooyoung on her side and San on Yeosang’s.

“How was Yunho?” San prompted, tentatively. “He didn’t scare you?”

“Did he frighten you – when you were alone with him?” Yeosang repeated, arm tightening around her.

“No, no, he wasn’t frightening,” she reassured them. “He was a surprise certainly.”

“Ah, Yunho was sneaky. He doesn’t like the opera, so he found his own way to meet you,” Yeosang sighed. “I feel like he caused the trouble for me on purpose, so I’d run late. You’re popular around here, sweetheart.” He squeezed her arm teasingly.

“Who else here?” she chuckled. Seonghwa? Hongjoong? She hadnt yet to see either of them – like they were ghosts.

“You’d be surprised,” Yeosang commented before leaning in and admitting. “I quite like you, too.”

He made her cheeks burn red, and Wooyoung giggled.

“She likes you too, Sangie,” he crowed out, fingers reaching to tickle her waist. “I’ve seen her blush over San, over you… Do you like Yunho as well?” Wooyoung queried, his words becoming less and less playful. They were almost inquisitive, as if testing the waters instead.

There was a crack as he lit a match across a gold-leafed frame. He placed the cigarette that was behind his ear to his lips and lit it.

“I did,” YN told him, honestly, as they continued through the foyer. Wooyoung chuckled out, smoke puffing out in front of his face in surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so fast.

“Not like that,” she interrupt his giggles, face burning. “I just—”

Looking down another hall they, she made out Yunho’s form, tall and slim walking down the hall with purpose. His back to her as they turned into the foyer finally.

“He was kind. Even if he was a bit intimidating… he wasn’t cruel or harsh. Just… confident.”

Yeosang smiled close-lipped. Wooyoung blew out his smoke to the side, the plume passing over the butlers’ faces. Not one flinched or coughed.

The smell of expensive tabacoo wafted over her face warmly as Wooyoung walked in front of them to push open the large heavy doors of the mansion.

“So he wasn’t so scary after all?” he teased. “Wait ‘til you meet Hongjoong and Hwa-hyung. They’re properly-”

“Wooyoung, don’t tease her,” Yeosang defended.

The younger raised one of his hands in defense as he held open the door for them. “I’m just saying – she got pass the guard dog.”

“She hasn’t met Jongho yet,” Yeosang giggled lightly. “He’s truly got a bad case of looking gruffer than he is. He’s our baby.”

Jongho. She had only heard that name once, and it was that night. Her ears rang.

“Jongho?” she queried softly.

He had been at the opera! He was one of their ‘brothers’.

“Or Mingi--Ah, here he is now,” San commented, smiling over at the man standing in front of the green-painted car.

“Hello,” the driver greeted, voice as deep as earlier. His eyes flickered to her arm in Yeosang’s.

Wooyoung smirked at him. “Mingi, I didn’t know you were driving today,” he said.

“I thought you and San were doing business today.”

“It was a fast deal.”

Mingi looked unamused, his siren-eyes looking him and San up and down. “Uh huh.

“You know a Jongho?” she turned to Yeosang as they spoke.

“Jongho is the youngest of us. You’ll meet him soon, sweetheart,” he reassured, squeezing her arm. “He’s busy too often. I think they overwork him; he’s just a boy.”

“He’s only a year younger than us,” Wooyoung commented with a pout.

“He’s a baby,” San agreed offhandedly.

“I think I—"

“Is she going the hell home or not?” Mingi bit out. Before looking bashfully at her. “Sorry, doll,” he apologized for his gruffness. “I’m not used to a dame being around.”

“Its okay,” she mumbled out. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Jongho was at the opera… without his supposed family knowing.

Mingi pouted at that. “No, its not.” He admitted. “Don’t take disrespect.”

Her distracted gaze rose and nodded softly, not really processing his words.

Wooyoung tsked out. “Here he goes about respect,” he sighed out. “Hurry up, swanette, or else we will be here for hours.”

There was a rumble of chuckles in the group. Yeosang squeezed her arm once more before pressing close to her ear, cheek to cheek. A whispered “next time it’ll be just you and I, hm?” was hushed into her ear before he unwound himself from her and allowed the others to hover about. “I’ll see you next time, Miss YN.”

San pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “And again, I promise you, I’m fine.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline before guiding her into Wooyoung’s arms.

He was warm and smelt of smoke. His grin was playful, wolfish as he leaned down and stole her lips into a kiss. He was getting bolder and bolder. His kiss was hot, a lick of his tongue into her mouth this time. She squeaked and he chuckled deeply.

“Mmm,” he moaned as he pulled away just a fraction. Wooyoung smiled as if he was innocent but his teases were devilishly. “Perhaps I should call you little mouse instead of swanette.”

She pushed at his chest, playfully. Wooyoung tugged her closer, grinning. Her face was akin to a rose.

“Let her go, Wooyoung,” Mingi said from the side. His face was sharp as he glared at the other. He didn’t appreciate the teasing. “She must be tired.”

Wooyoung heaved a sigh as if this was the hardest thing to do. He pouted at her before stealing a kiss, pressing a peck to her nose. “Fine,” he relented, unwinding her from his spider web embrace.

“See you soon, pretty. Mingi will make sure you get home safely.”

Mingi nodded steadfast before he offered her his hand.

“Shall we, baby-doll?”

Next time, when she woke, it was to a cat’s sandpaper-esque tongue licking her cheek. Little tiny licks with the familiar nuzzle of her wet nose, Z investigated her like any other day. The little more-blue-grey-than-black cat sniffed at her, the talkative pet meowing loudly. Her green eyes blinked slowly at her before she nudged her cheek with her forehead once more.

Her body didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It didn’t feel like anything. Whatever drugs she was on, they were good. She blinked at the kitten, slow to do anything once more.

She was still in Yeosang’s room. The smell of him was all around her, Jongho’s familiar gardenia aroma mingling in the sheets. YN tried to move. Pushing herself upwards was easier than before but the slightest shift in her legs reminded her of the heavy casts that wrapped her ankles. The pain nothing like before but there was still the zing up her knees that made her pause. Her breath caught as she stared at her limbs before her.

Her reality. Bedbound, grounded. It was a depressing thought. Even more depressing when she realized she wasn’t sure what day it was nor what hour. How many shows had she missed? Did her mother know she wasn’t well? Was she just the same as those folk written about in the papers? Missing and forgotten.

She let out a shuddering breath as she laid back into the fluffy luxurious pillows, contemplating what to do. Should she cry out for them? Hongjoong was the last face she remembered but she didn’t want to see him. Or Seonghwa. Or any of them. Really. Anger burned her throat like the nearby fire place. Z’s whiskers dusted over her arm, nudging at her for attention as she let out another inquisitive meow.

“Leave me alone, Z,” she mumbled into her pillow. The little tongue peaked out to lick her again. “Stop, Z; go away.”

Her tone was raising with her rising grief. That was the only way to describe what she was feeling grief – a mixture of hoping, pleading, that everything had been a dream only to be reawaken to reality. Anger and sorrow clashed like cymbals in her head.

The cat nuzzled her again, and she snapped this time.

“Z, go!” Her hands shifted the quilts aside in a huff, making the little cat hop away, back arched.

“Z, come here,” a voice, melodic as it was masculine, called. The doorway creaked open, the gaslight in the hallway illuminated his figure, bulky in the best way. “Love isn’t in the mood to play.”

She frowned over at him, even if Z hopped off the bed and went towards Jongho eagerly. Her little body pressed against his leg as she passed him, purring softly. He smiled after his kitten before his gaze settled back on his love bed ridden.

“Hi love,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry,” she told him.

“But not in pain,” he smiled.

The youngest crawled up onto the bed, sheets rustling and ruffling as he settled beside her. Jongho wasn’t one to be silenced by a glare or dirty look. He was made for this world – his hyungs’ beloved aegi was used to getting what he wanted. And she was his baby. His love. He wanted her.

She turned her rageful eyes his way. He simply smiled just like the others. “I know,” he hummed. “I tried to warn you.”

He had. He cried to her last night… or a few nights ago? Her anger was quenched by those tears now. Her eyes softened just a smidge, and Jongho took a mile. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. His arms wrapped around her ‘til she was caught in his embrace, warm and coddled.

He indulged in the way she didn’t pull away or yell. He had heard her shouts at Yeosang’s attempts at affection.

“What happened? I remember waking up in pain – why?” she murmured into his chest. Trying to gather information from when she was asleep.

Even now, she felt safe in his embrace. It caused a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

He heaved out, her head rising and falling with his chest. “You had an infection – the doctor said it was possible dirt from that alley way. It entered your injury for too long. He fixed it.”

“Is he alive?” she mumbled.

“By Yunho’s grace.”

She felt the ebbing and flowing rage, the despair rush over her again. Almost as if sensing it, Jongho shifted, his chin tilting into his chest to look down at her. He moved to tilt her own chin to meet his gaze. Fiery passion burned there. He liked it better when her passion burned for her dancing… but he supposed it had to go somewhere while she was incapable.

“It’s the way things are,” he told her. “Stop fighting it.”

Stop fighting and give in. Look what fighting did. Just let them control her…

YN scoffed. “I’m not some doll,” she bit back. “Or some—"She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Jongho’s eyes ached, and he reached for her hands. He cupped them in his. His bloodstained ones. How many time had he scrubbed away ichor? Dug it from under his nails? Her hands were dainty.

“It’ll never touch your hands,” he interrupted earnestly. “You’ll never bear it. Our work. Our lifestyles. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m bearing it now,” she whispered to him, voice breaking. “I’m afraid of you.”

He frowned, his face firm and thoughtful. He was always thinking her Jongho. He never stopped. His thumbs brushed over her palms, his forehead pressing to hers intimately.

“You tried to leave,” he said. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You understand what that means – I’m just something you control like your butlers and your members and your-.”

“No.” Jongho interrupted soft and earnestly.

“You are no pawn, my love. You are our priority… our treasure. Always.”

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