#bron breakker x black oc

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor 3

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

Previous: Love Thy Neighbor 2

⸻ November 10, 2024

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows of the airport terminal, casting soft rays on the polished floors.

Bluma's footsteps echoed as she walked through the bustling crowd, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her. The weight of the past few days lingered on her shoulders from a whirlwind of meetings, discussions, and a never-ending flow of paperwork.

As a patent attorney, her life often entailed swift travel to meet clients in various cities, juggling deadlines and negotiations in an ever-pressing race against time. This trip had taken her across the country to meet a prominent client about a pending patent, and the burden of that work had left her feeling tired and a bit overwhelmed.

Despite her exhaustion, a sense of anticipation began to bubble within her as she neared the exit. She couldn’t wait to see Bron. Their relationship has been growing to become a delicate balance of love, trust, and understanding, with Bron always showing up when she needs him the most and vice versa.

Bluma’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes scanned the waiting crowd for his familiar face. And there he was, standing by the entrance with a huge bouquet of pink roses in his hands. His face lit up the moment he saw her, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his features. He looked effortlessly handsome, his casual yet put-together outfit mirroring his easy confidence.

Bluma’s exhaustion seemed to melt away the instant their eyes met. She walked towards him, her heart lifting with each step. As soon as she reached him, Bron extended the bouquet of roses, their soft petals shimmering in the sunlight. "For you," he said in his usual warm tone. Bluma took the flowers with a delighted gasp, feeling the soft, fragrant blooms brush against her skin.

"I love it," she said, smiling widely, her voice filled with appreciation. The sight of the roses felt like a sweet declaration of love, one that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Without saying much more, Bron wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The warmth of his touch seemed to envelop her, providing the comfort she had been yearning for over the past few days. As they stood there, the world around them faded into the background, and all that mattered was this moment, this quiet, tender reunion after time spent apart.

“Let’s get you settled,” Bron said softly, pulling back just enough to take her suitcase and lead her to the car. He helped her into the passenger seat before getting in on the driver’s side.

As Bron steered the car through the busy streets, Bluma gazed out the window, letting the cool breeze brush her face. She couldn’t help but reflect on the love that had blossomed between them. It was a love that transcended time and distance, one that had endured the challenges of their demanding careers and their differing worlds.

And now, as they drove toward their next destination, Bluma could feel the familiar flutter of excitement in her chest. Bron always knew how to make her feel special.

Their destination was a luxurious spa, nestled in the heart of the city. Bron had booked an appointment for Bluma, knowing she needed to unwind after her busy days of meetings. Bluma had always loved the soothing atmosphere of the spa, where the hum of gentle music and the smell of essential oils created a sanctuary of calm. She smiled as they pulled up to the entrance.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Bluma said, her voice warm with gratitude as she turned to look at Bron. “This is so sweet of you.”

“I know you’ve been working hard,” he replied, glancing over at her with a caring expression. “You sounded so stressed out when we talked last night. I just wanted to make sure you had some time to relax.”

Bluma felt a rush of affection for him. He had always been in tune with her emotions, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. She leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his lips. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the love and appreciation she felt for him.

When the session at the spa concluded, and Bluma was fully relaxed, Bron returned to pick her up. He handed her a steaming cup of apple tea, which she gratefully accepted, the warmth of the drink seeping into her cold fingers.

As they made their way back to the duplex they shared, Bluma’s mind wandered to the small, intimate moments that made their relationship so special. She felt safe with Bron, safe enough to let go of the stress of her job and the constant pressure she was under. And Bron, in his quiet way, always made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

But before Bluma could head to her side of the duplex, Bron stopped her. “Wait a minute,” he said, his eyes gleaming with something mysterious. “I made dinner for you.”

Bluma raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What did you make?” she asked, the exhaustion of the day now replaced with a flicker of excitement.

“It’s a surprise,” Bron answered, his lips curling into a playful grin.

With a sense of intrigue, Bluma followed him to his side of the duplex. He unlocked the door and ushered her in first before following behind her. As they stepped inside, Bron led her straight to the kitchen. They both washed their hands, the sounds of running water mixing with the soft hum of the evening.

When Bluma approached the stove, she was met with an unexpected sight. The familiar aroma of spices and cooked vegetables wafted toward her, and she was surprised to see two large pots on the stove, their lids securely fastened.

She lifted the lid of one pot, and her eyes widened in disbelief. There, steaming on the stove, was a pot of Owo soup, accompanied by boiled plantain. “What? How did you make this?” Bluma asked, her voice laced with genuine astonishment.

Bron smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I had help from your mom. She was very excited to teach me,” he explained.

Bluma couldn’t contain her shock. She knew that Nigerian food especially her mother’s recipes was no small feat to master. Her mom had taught Bron how to make Owo soup so quickly. Bluma couldn’t believe it. Her sister-in-law, Hazel, had waited six months before she learned to cook alongside her mother. Even Shalom, her oldest sister-in-law, had waited a year before she felt comfortable sharing the kitchen with her. But here was Bron, who, in just a month, had learned to recreate one of the most beloved dishes in their family.

Bluma shook her head, still in disbelief. “Of course, she was. My dad always cooks for her, and that’s one of the main things she told me to look for in a husband. A man who cooks for his wife is a good man. A caring man. That’s what she always says.”

Bron chuckled, understanding the weight of Bluma’s words. “That explains a lot of her excitement then,” he said with a grin.

Bron’s smile deepened. “Sit down, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Bluma sat down at the kitchen table, still marveling at what she was witnessing. “I can’t wait to eat this. It looks so good.”

She nodded and waited patiently as Bron plated the food, carefully arranging each serving before bringing it over to her. As he set the plate down in front of her, Bluma looked at the steaming dish with a smile that reached her eyes. “I hope she told you that this is my favorite dish,” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Bron nodded. “She did. She told me to memorize the recipe if I wanted you to marry me,” he said with a teasing grin.

Bluma giggled, her heart swelling with warmth at the thought of her mother’s involvement in this small act of love.

Bron led them in prayer, his voice calm and reverent as he asked for blessings over their food. Bluma closed her eyes, grateful for this moment of peace and gratitude amidst the chaos of her life.

As she took her first bite of the Owo soup, her eyes closed in sheer delight. The rich, savory, and spicy flavor exploded on her tongue, and she moaned softly in appreciation. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. “This is incredible.”

Bron watched her, his gaze was soft and loving. “Is it good?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

Bluma nodded enthusiastically. “You followed her recipe, this is so good. I may never cook again. That’s your job now,” she teased, her smile playful and full of affection.

Bron chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. As he sat across from her, watching her savor every bite, he knew that this simple meal was more than just food. It was a symbol of love, care, and the effort he was willing to put into making her feel cherished and loved.

And for Bluma, it was yet another reminder that she had found someone who truly understood her, someone who could make her feel at home, no matter where she was.

⸻ November 30, 2024

Bluma had found herself amid yet another WWE event. It was becoming a familiar scene for her, a regular fixture now in the backstage area, offering support to her boyfriend, Bron. Survivor Series WarGames was one of the year's most highly anticipated events, held at the Rogers Arena in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

The electric atmosphere inside the venue was palpable, and for Bron, the night was set to be monumental. He was defending his prized Intercontinental Championship in a triple-threat match against two of WWE's most formidable competitors: Sheamus and Ludwig Kaiser. It wasn’t just any match, it was one of those defining moments in a wrestler’s career, the kind that could change everything.

Bluma was no stranger to the glitz and glamour of the wrestling world. Over the months, she had become a regular face in the backstage scene, her presence just as anticipated as the wrestlers themselves. Staff members, fellow wrestlers, and even the production crew, all greeted her with familiarity, respect, and warmth.

The harmony that existed backstage was evident, and Bluma had woven herself seamlessly into the fabric of the WWE family. She was always there when Bron needed her, cheering him on, and supporting him through the highs and lows of his career.

Tonight was no exception. She had made sure to clear her schedule, determined not to miss the big event. Bron’s match was crucial, and she wanted to be there. Front and center, not just physically but emotionally as well. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when she watched him compete. His success in WWE was hard-earned, and every title defense, every match he won, felt like a personal victory for her too.

The backstage area was buzzing with energy as wrestlers prepared for their matches, staff members scurried about, and a sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. Bluma found herself roped into a conversation with a few of the WWE crew members. The topic turned to the idea of her ever stepping into the ring herself, following in the footsteps of many other wrestling partners who had, at one point or another, been involved in storylines.

“I don’t know if I have the right reaction time to be involved in a storyline,” Bluma mused, her tone thoughtful as she looked around at the group gathered around her.

She had never considered herself a wrestler. Bron’s world was one of intense physicality, aggression, and calculated strategy. It was a world she admired from a distance but never truly thought she would be part of. But as the question lingered, she couldn’t help but entertain the thought.

“What if I get hit too hard, though? I mean, I might forget that it’s all a show, and I’d try to take the person out,” Bluma added, her voice carrying a touch of seriousness.

She wasn’t entirely joking, and the others in the group recognized that in the sharpness of her words. The room burst into laughter, but Bluma wasn’t done. She sat there, imagining the scenario, envisioning herself in the ring, caught up in the chaos of a scripted fight, but in her mind, it was far from fake.

Trinity, ever the tease, was the first to speak up. “Oh yeah? What do you think you’re capable of doing?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes. Bluma’s response, however, took everyone by surprise.

“Don’t let this sweet face fool you now,” she said with a sly smile, her tone shifting into something more confident, more assertive. “I’ll get active.”

Jon, who had been leaning against a nearby wall, laughed heartily. “Oh, she got some bass in her voice, y’all!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock astonishment.

The group erupted into laughter once more, but Bluma’s words lingered in the air, a testament to the side of her that few truly knew. Behind the elegance and charm, there was a fierce, trained side that had been honed over years of boxing and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. She was no stranger to discipline and strength, having earned her purple belt in Jiu-Jitsu, and though she wasn’t a wrestler, her athletic background gave her a deep understanding of physicality.

“Oh, you’re trained in BJJ?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bluma shrugged, a casual but knowing grin on her face. “I’ve been training for years. I just don’t show it off unless I have to,” she replied.

The mood shifted once again, this time into a more teasing territory. Joshua, who had been listening intently, suddenly piped up. “So, would you ever marry Bron?” he asked, his tone curious but with a hint of playful challenge. The question took Bluma by surprise, but she wasn’t one to shy away from personal topics.

The conversation shifted from wrestling to something far more personal. “You’re Nigerian, right?” Joshua continued. “I’ve seen how y’all weddings go down. Would you go all out with Bron, or just go to the courthouse?”

Bluma let out a light laugh at the thought. “I’m sorry, the courthouse will never happen. Especially not with my mom involved,” she said, shaking her head as if the very idea was absurd. “I’ll probably have a white wedding first, and then maybe do the traditional wedding another time. You know, with Bron’s schedule and all that.”

The group chuckled, but Bianca’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, so you’ve thought about marrying him?” she asked, teasing Bluma a bit.

Bluma paused for a moment, her gaze softening as she considered her answer. “Well,” she said slowly, “when a man learns how to cook your culture’s dishes, you have to think about marriage.”

The room burst into laughter once again, but it was clear from Bluma’s tone that her words weren’t meant entirely in jest. There was a level of sincerity behind them, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond she shared with Bron.

“Oh, Bron can cook Nigerian food?” Joshua asked, his voice filled with curiosity. “When did this happen? Why haven’t I been invited over for these meals?”

Bron, who had been standing nearby, couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. He walked over with a sheepish grin on his face, knowing exactly what was coming.

“I can’t cook for you all,” Bron said, his voice joking but with a touch of pride. “I only cook for Bluma.”

“Awe, not you gatekeeping,” Trinity said with a playful pout, but Bron wasn’t having any of it.

“Yup,” he replied, his voice full of mock seriousness. “You don’t know how hard it is to cook Nigerian food. I’m working out just to be able to stir the pot.”

Bluma laughed at his words, loving the playful banter that often surrounded their relationship. It was moments like this, the lighthearted teasing, the camaraderie, and the laughter, that made her appreciate the world she had entered. It wasn’t just the glitz and the spectacle; it was the people, the genuine connections, and the shared moments of joy.

Later that night, after the event had ended and the adrenaline of the match had subsided, Bluma and Bron found themselves back in their hotel room.

The night had been a success for Bron, he had successfully defended his Intercontinental Championship against both Sheamus and Ludwig Kaiser in a thrilling triple-threat match. Bluma had been ringside, cheering him on, her heart racing with every near-fall and every near-miss. She had watched as Bron spearheaded his way to victory, retaining the title in a match that showcased his power, agility, and determination.

Now, in the quiet of their hotel room, the world outside seemed far away. The noise, the chaos, the crowds, they all felt distant. Bluma emerged from the bathroom after a refreshing shower, the soft scent of her body wash lingering in the air. She wore a short silk nightgown, its delicate fabric brushing against her skin, the material shimmering faintly in the dim light of the room.

Bron, who had been sitting on the bed, tried his best to pretend he wasn’t looking at her. But Bluma, ever the playful one, had other ideas. She walked over to his side of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing his attention. As she climbed on top of him, her body close to his, she looked down at him with a mischievous smile.

“What are you doing?” Bron asked, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and amusement, though he couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest.

“I want you to see my nightgown,” Bluma answered her tone light but carrying an undeniable undertone of flirtation.

Bron let out a soft chuckle, though there was a hint of warning in his voice. “Bluma, you’re testing me,” he said, his eyes narrowing playfully as he tried to keep his composure.

Bluma, however, was unbothered. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “What? No.” But the glint in her eyes told a different story, one that promised more teasing and perhaps something else entirely.

It was moments like this, when the world outside faded away and it was just the two of them, that Bluma cherished most. Here, in this quiet hotel room, surrounded by the remnants of the night’s excitement, she felt a sense of peace.

And as Bron wrapped his arms around her, the promise of what was to come in their relationship hung in the air filled with love, laughter, and a little bit of mischief.

⸻ December 25, 2024

The holiday season was a bittersweet affair for Bluma and Bron. Christmas, usually a time spent with loved ones, was going to be different for them this year. The relationship was still new, still blossoming, but circumstances had them separated for the holiday. Bron was with his family, celebrating the occasion in the familiar surroundings of his home. Bluma, on the other hand, was at her parents’ house, surrounded by the warmth and tradition of her own family’s Christmas celebration. They both missed each other, no doubt, but there was no sense of distance in their hearts just a longing for the day when they could share moments like these.

Though the miles between them prevented them from spending Christmas in the same place, it didn’t stop either of them from going all out for the other. The joy of giving, the excitement of surprising one another, was something neither Bluma nor Bron could resist. Despite the physical distance, they were determined to make the day special. And so, as the morning light filtered softly through the windows of their separate homes, each of them found themselves waking up to the quiet buzz of anticipation for what Christmas morning would bring.

Bron had just finished enjoying his Christmas breakfast when he sat down to unwrap his presents. The familiar hum of excitement, and the scent of pine trees and cinnamon filled the air. He had gathered around the tree with his family, feeling the warmth of their togetherness.

But as his hands moved to the first gift, his thoughts were entirely with Bluma. What would she think of the gifts he had spent so much time picking out for her? Had he done enough to make her feel loved? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that she had made him feel something he had never felt before, utterly seen and valued. And that alone made this holiday one of the most memorable of his life.

Bluma’s reactions were a big part of the excitement for him. He had carefully chosen each present, knowing the meaning they would carry for her. The gifts weren’t about grand gestures or expensive things though she did get some very thoughtful and luxurious presents, it was about showing her how much he cared, how much he wanted to make her happy. The thought of her reaction made his chest tighten in anticipation.

As he reached for his phone, his eyes immediately went to the screen, hoping to catch her response to the gifts he had arranged to be delivered to her family’s house. He had been in constant communication with the delivery team to ensure everything arrived on time. Bron had wanted this to be perfect for her. And now, as his finger swiped across the phone, he could see her face light up as she unwrapped the presents.

There she was, sitting in the living room of her parents’ house, surrounded by the warmth of family and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Bluma’s eyes sparkled with joy as she looked at the array of gifts, each one thoughtfully wrapped, each one a reflection of Bron’s love. She laughed in surprise when she pulled out the first gift, a carefully curated collection of books that she had been eyeing for months. Her excitement was palpable, a bright smile lighting up her face as she exclaimed her thanks, her voice full of genuine happiness.

Bron’s heart swelled with pride as he watched her. He had worked so hard to make this moment special for her, to show her just how much she meant to him. As the phone camera captured her reactions, her voice crackling with laughter and joy, his family watched him closely, smiling at the obvious affection he held for Bluma.

“You must have spent a fortune on her,” Bron’s mother commented as she looked over at her son, her voice filled with both curiosity and admiration.

Bron grinned, his eyes never leaving the screen. “She’s worth it,” he replied without hesitation, his voice low and filled with certainty. He wasn’t even thinking about the price tag. To him, the gifts were an expression of his deep feelings for Bluma, a way to show her how much she meant to him, how much she had become a part of his world in such a short time.

His mother smiled warmly, clearly pleased with her son’s happiness. She had seen Bron through all the ups and downs of life, and this new love seemed to be a bright light in his world. “You look so happy, son,” she said, her voice soft with affection. “I think she’s the one.”

Bron paused, looking down at the screen for a moment. It was true. Bluma had a way of making him feel at peace with himself, something he hadn’t felt in years. She brought out the best in him, and in the quiet moments when they talked or laughed together, it became abundantly clear to him that she was someone special. His heart warmed at the thought, and he nodded slowly. “I think so too,” he said, his voice filled with certainty.

His father, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile, chimed in. “She’s a keeper, son. She is.”

Bron chuckled softly and gave his father a nod of appreciation. He knew his parents only wanted the best for him, and their approval meant the world. But it wasn’t just about his parents’ approval, it was about what he felt when he was with Bluma. The joy, the laughter, the way she made him feel seen and understood, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

As Bron began to unwrap the gifts in front of him, his eyes glinted with surprise. He knew Bluma was thoughtful, but the next gift he pulled out of the pile completely took him by surprise. He opened a small box and was met with a key, just a simple, unassuming key. His brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at it, trying to make sense of its meaning. He looked at the note inside the box, and as he read the words, his heart skipped a beat.

The note read: *Congratulations, Bron. You’re the proud owner of a fishing boat. May this be the start of many adventures.*

Bron blinked in disbelief. A fishing boat? She had bought him a boat? His mind raced as he processed the words on the paper. It was an unexpected gift, something he had never anticipated in a million years. He had always dreamed of having a boat, of being able to spend more time out on the water, casting a line, and relaxing in the serenity of nature. But to have one, to know that Bluma had made that dream a reality, it was almost overwhelming.

The room fell silent for a moment as Bron’s family looked on in stunned amazement. His brother, who had been quiet up until that point, couldn’t contain his excitement. “Oh, she’s the one,” he said with a wide grin, his voice full of admiration.

Bron let out a breath, his chest heavy with emotion. He was speechless, unable to find the words to express how he felt. The boat was just the beginning of the journey, a symbol of the many adventures he would share with Bluma. But it was also a symbol of how much she cared for him, how deeply she had listened to his wishes and dreams. It was a gift that went beyond material value, it was a gift of love and thoughtfulness.

“I can’t believe it,” Bron finally said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked at the key in his hand. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. The gesture was just so perfect, so Bluma. She knew him in a way no one else did, and the way she made him feel loved and cared for was something he would never take for granted.

As he opened the rest of the gifts from Bluma, it became clear just how much thought and care she had put into every one. Fishing gear like new rods, tackle boxes, and everything he could need for his next fishing trip was among the items, as well as a few more personal items that reflected her understanding of his life and his interests.

There were also a few surprises, little inside jokes, and shared memories from their time together. Each gift felt like a piece of her, a reminder of the bond they had quickly formed. It wasn’t just about presents, it was about the connection they had, the way they had already woven themselves into each other’s lives.

With a smile on his face and a heart full of gratitude, Bron excused himself from the family room and stepped outside to call Bluma. His fingers trembled slightly as he dialed her number, his heart racing in anticipation of hearing her voice. The phone rang, and just as he was starting to feel a bit anxious, she picked up.

“Hey, baby,” Bluma’s voice came through the phone, warm and full of affection. “How’s your Christmas going?”

Bron’s heart swelled at the sound of her voice. He didn’t even need to say anything right away, he just wanted to hear her. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice full of meaning. The words seemed so simple, yet they carried so much weight at that moment. He had never felt this way before, and it was all because of her.

Bluma’s laughter echoed on the other end of the line. “I love you too, Bron,” she replied, her voice tender. “Did you like your gifts?”

“Bluma,” Bron said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve completely blown me away. I don’t even know what to say. You’re incredible. You really are the one.”

Bluma’s voice softened, filled with sincerity. “I’m so glad you liked it all. I wanted to make your Christmas as special as you’ve made me feel every day since we met.”

The words hung in the air, a promise for the future, a reminder of the bond they shared. Even though they weren’t spending the holiday together, it felt as if they were right there with each other, their hearts intertwined.

Next: Love Thy Neighbor 4

[msklassickilla]

Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Four

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): Will be updated each chapter. None for this.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Four

The familiar opening riff of Monday Night Raw’s theme music filled the living room as Titania and Mia settled onto the couch, surrounded by the remnants of their takeout dinner. Titania hugged a pillow to her chest, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in her stomach.

She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to watch tonight. Maybe part of her was hoping Jey wouldn’t appear on the screen. Maybe she could convince herself that he wasn’t real—that the typewriter hadn’t worked as seamlessly as it seemed.

But then Jey's music hit.

Titania’s breath caught in her throat as the crowd erupted, their cheers mingling with a smattering of voices. Jey strode down the arena steps, dressed in his ring gear, his expression lax and confident. He didn’t need anyone else by his side anymore—Roman, Jimmy, and Paul Heyman were all on SmackDown, and while Sami Zayn was somewhere backstage, this moment belonged to Jey alone.

He paused once he was standing on one post of the ring, soaking in the energy of the crowd. The camera zoomed in on his face, highlighting the determination in his eyes, and Titania’s pulse quickened.

“Whew,” Mia said, nudging Titania’s arm. “Your man looks good tonight. And you’re telling me you don’t swoon every time he comes out?”

Titania forced a small smile, her chest tightening. “Yeah. He does.”

As Jey made his way to the ring, the commentators hyped up the tension between him and Bron Breakker, who had made his presence known in just a short time since being drafted.

“This match is about more than just wins and losses,” Wade Barrett said. “This is a statement. Jey Uso has something to prove—not just to Bron Breakker, but to the entire Bloodline he came from.”

The arena lights dimmed, and Bron’s music hit, the crowd erupting in a mix of cheers and boos as he stormed down the ramp, his confidence radiating off him in waves. Titania gripped the pillow tighter as the tension in the air grew palpable.

Mia leaned forward; her eyes glued to the screen. “Oh, this is gonna be good. You think Jey’s gonna take him down?”

“Of course,” Titania said, her voice quieter than she intended.

The bell rang, and the match began with an explosive start. Jey darted around the ring with his usual quickness, his strikes landing with precision, but Bron’s raw power gave him the upper hand early on. The two men exchanged punishing blows, each one trying to assert dominance.

Titania’s heart raced as she watched Jey struggle against Bron’s relentless offense. For a moment, it felt like he might lose, but then Jey shifted the momentum with a perfectly timed counter, sending Bron crashing into the turnbuckle. The crowd roared as Jey followed up with a thunderous superkick that nearly took Bron’s head off.

“Your man’s on fire!” Mia said, throwing a fist in the air.

Titania smiled faintly, but her mind was elsewhere. Seeing Jey like this—strong, confident, larger than life—should have made her proud. But instead, it made the distance between them feel unbearable. He was out there living his life, thriving in his world, while she was here, watching from the sidelines.

As the match wore on, Jey landed his finisher—a devastating Uso Splash from the top rope—and pinned Bron for the victory. The crowd erupted, the announcer declaring Jey the winner as his music blasted through the arena.

“He’s so good,” Mia said, shaking her head. “How are you not screaming this from the rooftops? If I were you, I’d have matching shirts made by now.”

Titania forced a laugh, but her chest ached. She wanted to see him, to feel his presence, to remind herself that he wasn’t just some untouchable star on her screen.

Later that night, after Mia had gone to bed, Titania sat alone in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the TV. The house felt oppressively quiet, the absence of Jey’s presence weighing heavily on her.

Her gaze drifted toward the stairs. She could feel the pull of the typewriter even from here, its promise whispering in the back of her mind.

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “Don’t,” she muttered to herself. “You don’t need to.”

But the ache in her chest didn’t subside.

The next morning, Titania stood at the front door, watching as Mia hauled her overnight bag to the car. The crisp morning air carried the faint scent of dew, and the sky was a soft, cloudless blue.

“Sure, you don’t wanna stay a little longer?” Titania asked, half-hoping Mia would change her mind.

“Nah, I’ve gotta get back to reality,” Mia said, slinging her bag into the back seat. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I have to check up on you, after all—you’re terrible at keeping me in the loop.”

Titania laughed softly, though it felt hollow. “I’ll try to do better.”

“You better,” Mia teased, pulling her into a hug. “And tell your man I said hi. Next time, I expect to actually see him.”

Titania froze for a fraction of a second, then hugged Mia back tightly, forcing a smile. “I will.”

As Mia drove off, Titania stood in the driveway, watching her car disappear down the street. The morning felt too quiet now, the silence pressing against her chest. She exhaled slowly and went back inside, shutting the door behind her.

The house was eerily still. For the first time in days, she was completely alone, and the weight of it was suffocating.

She tried to distract herself with chores—folding laundry, reorganizing the bookshelf in the living room, even scrubbing the bathroom sink again—but none of it helped. Her mind kept drifting back to the typewriter, the thought of its power gnawing at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

She hadn’t heard from Jey since she’d seen him on Monday Night Raw. No texts, no calls, nothing. She knew he was busy, knew this was probably normal for him, but the silence felt unbearable.

By late afternoon, Titania found herself pacing the living room, her thoughts swirling.

It’s fine, she told herself. He’ll come home when he can. You don’t need to interfere.

But the ache in her chest didn’t go away.

That evening, she sat on the couch with a bowl of cereal, aimlessly flipping through channels on the TV. The house felt emptier than ever, the silence so loud it was almost oppressive.

Her gaze drifted toward the stairs.

----

Half an hour later, Titania was sitting in the spare room, the typewriter in front of her.

Her hands hovered over the keys, trembling slightly. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t use it again. She’d promised.

But the longing in her chest outweighed the guilt. She wanted to see Jey. She wanted to feel his presence in the house again, to hear his voice and see his smile.

“It’s just one line,” she whispered to herself, as if saying it aloud might make it true. “One harmless line.”

Her fingers moved almost without her permission, typing the words:

Jey came home in the middle of the night, and by the time I woke up, he was already making breakfast

She stared at the sentence, her pulse pounding in her ears. For a moment, she thought about ripping the paper from the typewriter and throwing it away. But she didn’t.

Instead, she pressed the final key and sat back, the weight of what she’d done settling over her like a heavy blanket.

“It’s fine,” she murmured. “It’s fine. Just this once.”

But as she left the room and climbed into bed, a knot of guilt twisted in her stomach. She tried to ignore it, telling herself that she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Still, the typewriter’s pull lingered in the back of her mind, whispering promises of control and ease that she couldn’t quite shake.

The faint scent of coffee and the sizzle of something cooking woke Titania before her alarm did. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she thought she was dreaming. The warm, comforting smells wafted up the stairs, blending with the quiet clatter of plates and pans.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She swung her legs out of bed, barely bothering to throw on her robe before padding down the stairs. As she reached the kitchen, the scene stopped her in her tracks.

Jey stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with one hand and sipping coffee from a mug in the other. He was wearing a fitted black T-shirt and sweatpants, his damp curls sitting nicely on the top of his head. His every movement was casual, comfortable, as if he’d been doing this every morning he was there for years.

“Morning, babe,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Hope you’re hungry. I went a little overboard.”

Titania’s gaze shifted to the counter, where a stack of golden-brown pancakes sat next to a bowl of fresh-cut fruit and a jar of syrup. Her chest tightened as a wave of guilt washed over her.

“I... didn’t know you’d be home,” she said softly, her voice catching slightly.

Jey chuckled, setting the spatula down and turning to face her. “What, you thought I’d stay gone forever? Tampa was cool, but it’s good to be home.”

Titania forced a smile, wrapping her arms around herself. “You should’ve told me you were coming back.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” Jey said, stepping closer. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips warm and familiar. “Figured I owed you some uninterrupted me and you time after being on the road so much.”

Titania’s breath caught, but she nodded, her smile tightening. “Thanks.”

Jey turned back to the stove, his tone light. “Go sit down. I’ll bring you a plate. You look like you could use some food.”

She obeyed, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs as her mind spun. He was here, just as she’d written it. His presence was seamless, his affection so genuine it made her chest ache.

When he brought her a plate, she muttered a quiet “thank you” and started eating, though every bite tasted bittersweet. Jey filled the silence with stories from his trip, casually mentioning meetings with the creative team and bumping into some of the NXT talent while in Tampa.

“Oh, and Bron tried to give me some attitude backstage after our match,” Jey said, shaking his head with a smirk. “Kid’s got potential, but he’s still wet behind the ears. Thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he’s got a few wins or whatever.”

Titania blinked, her fork pausing midair. “You talked to Bron?”

“Yeah, nothing serious,” Jey said with a shrug. “Just put him in his place a little. You know how it is.”

She nodded absently, her heart thudding. He was talking about things she hadn’t written—things that had happened off-camera, in moments she hadn’t controlled.

Jey leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied her. “You good? You quiet this morning.”

“I’m good,” Titania said quickly, forcing another smile. “Just a bit sleepy still.”

He nodded, though his expression was still laced with concern. “Well, eat up. You’ve got me all day, so no excuses for staying cooped up in here. I’m taking you out later.”

Her stomach flipped. “Out? Where?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a grin, finishing his coffee. “Just be ready by five.”

Titania nodded again, her pulse quickening. The idea of spending the day with him was thrilling—and terrifying. She’d wanted this, hadn’t she? To have him here, to be with him?

So why did it feel like she was sinking deeper into something she couldn’t escape?

Titania barely had time to overthink Jey’s plans before five o’clock rolled around. He kept the details vague, offering only a playful smirk when she pestered him for clues. By the time she stepped outside to join him, she was greeted with the sight of his black SUV parked in the driveway, its engine softly purring.

Jey leaned casually against the driver’s side door, dressed in a nice shirt and shorts. His dark curls framed his face, and his grin was boyish as he opened the passenger door for her.

“Hop in,” he said. “You trust me, right?”

Titania raised an eyebrow, her heart fluttering as she slid into the seat. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” Jey teased, closing the door before circling around to the driver’s side.

The car ride was a mix of banter and comfortable silence. Jey flipped through the playlist on his phone, landing on a mix of R&B and hip-hop that made the car feel warm and alive. Titania found herself relaxing despite the constant hum of anxiety in the back of her mind.

After a short drive, Jey pulled into a secluded park, the golden hues of the setting sun casting a soft glow over the trees. He parked near a small lake, where a picnic table sat under a cluster of willow trees.

Titania blinked in surprise as she noticed the cooler in the back seat. “You planned this?”

“Of course,” Jey said, grabbing the cooler and a blanket. “Thought you’d like a quiet spot. No crowds, no noise—just us.”

The simplicity of it caught her off guard. For someone who lived his life under bright lights and deafening arenas, this moment felt oddly intimate.

----

They spent the next hour lounging by the lake, eating sandwiches Jey had packed and laughing about everything from the ridiculous fan signs he’d seen at shows to Mia’s over-the-top commentary from the last time she visited.

“Man, she’s got jokes,” Jey said, shaking his head. “She said you ‘landed me’ like it’s a wrestling move. What’s that about?”

Titania chuckled nervously. “She’s just... Mia. She never stops teasing me.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Jey said, grinning. “But you didn’t land me. I landed you.”

The statement caught her off guard, and her cheeks burned as she looked away. “You’re full of it.”

“Not even,” Jey said, leaning back on his elbows. “Look at you. Smart, talented, gorgeous... I’d be an idiot not to make you mine.”

Titania’s heart skipped, his words hitting her harder than she expected. She stared at the rippling water, her mind racing.

“Besides,” Jey continued, his tone softening, “this life can be... a lot. Sometimes it feels like everyone wants a piece of me. But with you, it’s different. It’s just... easy. I don’t have to perform. I can just be myself.”

Titania’s breath caught. She glanced at him, and the vulnerability in his expression made her chest ache. For a moment, the typewriter felt like a distant memory.

“You don’t have to perform with me,” she said quietly. “Ever.”

Jey smiled, his gaze warm as he reached over to squeeze her hand. “I know.”

----

Later that night, back at home, Titania sat on the couch as Jey sprawled next to her, his head resting lazily against her lap. They were watching a movie—something forgettable that neither of them was paying attention to.

Jey shifted slightly, his voice low as he said, “You know my next show’s in Richmond, right? It’s only like, what, an hour away from here?”

Titania’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. You should come,” he said, glancing up at her with a grin. “I want you to see me in action, live. It’s way better than watching on TV.”

Her chest filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. She nodded slowly, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’d love to.”

“Good,” Jey said, leaning back into her lap with a satisfied sigh. “You’re gonna love it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Titania ran her fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he settled in, her thoughts drifting. The day had been perfect—everything she could have wanted and more.

But as the movie played on, her mind wandered back to the spare room, where the typewriter sat waiting. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could make their time together even better, smoother, more perfect.

The temptation was there, whispering in the back of her mind, and it scared her.

The house was quiet again, the kind of deep stillness that made Titania’s thoughts louder than they had any right to be. She stood at the sink, washing the last of the dinner plates as Jey’s laughter echoed faintly in her mind. He had gone to bed early, tired from their day together, leaving Titania alone with her thoughts.

The night had been perfect. Too perfect.

She dried her hands and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the kitchen window. The reflection of the darkened room stared back at her, and she felt the pull of the typewriter growing stronger with each passing second.

Titania had promised herself she wouldn’t use it again, but the day’s events had rekindled a familiar desire—the need for control, for assurance that nothing could go wrong. Jey’s invitation to his show in Richmond thrilled her, but it also made her stomach churn with nerves.

What if she embarrassed herself? What if she said or did something that didn’t fit into the seamless narrative the typewriter had created?

What if she wasn’t enough?

Her gaze drifted toward the stairs, and she clenched her fists, willing herself to stay put. She didn’t need the typewriter. Jey was already here, wasn’t he? He was real, tangible, warm. She didn’t need to rewrite anything.

But the nagging voice in the back of her mind wouldn’t let go.

----

A little past midnight, Titania found herself standing in front of the spare room. She hadn’t even realized her feet had carried her there until her hand was on the doorknob, the cool metal sending a shiver up her spine.

The room smelled faintly of dust and paper, the air thick with the presence of the typewriter. It sat on the desk, gleaming under the faint light of the hallway, like it had been waiting for her.

Titania stepped inside, her heart pounding as she shut the door behind her. She hesitated for a moment, staring at the machine as if it might spring to life on its own.

“You don’t need this,” she whispered, but her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears.

Her fingers brushed over the keys, the smooth metal cool against her skin. She told herself she was just looking, just thinking. But the familiar weight of the typewriter pulled her in, its promise of perfection wrapping around her like a velvet chain.

The notebook she used for her fanfiction ideas sat nearby, its pages filled with notes, sketches, and stray thoughts. She flipped through it absently, her mind swirling. Maybe she could write something small, something harmless—just to ensure the day of the Richmond show went smoothly.

No, she thought, slamming the notebook shut. This is dangerous. You know it is.

She pushed back from the desk, her breath shallow, and stared at the typewriter like it was a living thing. The temptation was suffocating, its pull relentless.

With shaking hands, Titania turned off the light and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She stood in the hallway for a moment, leaning against the wall, her chest heaving.

It wasn’t over. She knew it wasn’t.

Titania didn’t sleep well that night. She tossed and turned, her dreams a tangled mess of flashing arena lights, cheering crowds, and the rhythmic clatter of typewriter keys.

When morning came, she awoke with the same lingering ache in her chest, her thoughts a jumble of fear and longing.

Jey greeted her with his usual warmth, but even his easy smile couldn’t dispel the storm brewing in her mind. As they sat together over breakfast, laughing and talking about nothing in particular, Titania felt the pull of the typewriter like a shadow at the edge of her thoughts.

It would always be there, she realized, whispering promises of control, tempting her to rewrite the world just a little more.

And deep down, she wasn’t sure she could resist it forever.

----

Read Chapter 4... click here

Want to join the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @yana3sworld @mikaelsonharem7 @isabella-2025 @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @jeypunkk @usoholic

Want to read from the beginning, click here

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor 2

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

Previous: Love Thy Neighbor

⸻ August 3, 2024

Bron had never been entirely sure why he invited Bluma to SummerSlam. Perhaps it was the thrill of the moment, the heat of his rematch against Sami Zayn, or maybe it was something deeper, a feeling that tugged at him, pushing him to take a step he hadn’t before.

After all, they had spent months bickering over petty things, little disagreements that kept them at odds with one another. The feud was almost like a dance, each one playing their part, knowing where to push, where to step back. And before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, the words had slipped from his mouth. “Hey, you should come to SummerSlam. It’d be fun.” Bluma had accepted.

Yet, in that moment, standing backstage with his colleagues, he found himself scanning the crowd for her, for Bluma.

It wasn’t just about having her there for the match. There was something else. Maybe it was the thrill of the crowd, the electric atmosphere of the arena, or maybe it was just the idea of her being a part of this massive event.

And now, as he stood there waiting for her, he realized just how much he had come to look forward to this day.

Bluma, for her part, was dressed in a casual chic ensemble that seemed perfectly in sync with the world of wrestling. She wore ripped, high-waisted jeans with a black bodysuit, completing the look with a black leather coat and towering heels that clicked against the polished floors of the backstage area.

Security guided her through the winding corridors, and as she made her way toward the heart of the event, she could feel the energy pulsating through the arena, even before she stepped out into the crowd. It was electric, vibrant, loud, and larger than life.

When Bron first spotted her, he immediately broke away from his group of colleagues, leaving them behind without a second thought. The men he was talking to exchanged confused glances, unsure of what had just happened. Bluma, however, smiled as he approached, her expression light and teasing.

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice carrying over the ambient noise.

“Hey,” Bron replied, offering a warm, almost relieved smile. He turned to the security guard who had escorted her. “Thanks for bringing her back here,” he said with a polite nod.

Bluma chuckled, a twinkle in her eye. “So, did you bring me here to watch you lose, or are you planning to win your match tonight?” she asked, her tone playful, yet with an edge of challenge.

Bron let out a small laugh, appreciating her teasing. “You’ll just have to sit ringside and see for yourself,” he said, offering her his arm. He led her back toward his group of colleagues, who were now all watching her with curiosity.

"Everyone, this is Bluma," Bron said, gesturing toward her as he introduced her to the men. “Phil, Ettore, Joe, and Paul.”

Joe, who had a mischievous glint in his eye, grinned. “So this is the neighbor you’ve been at war with?” he asked, clearly amused by the dynamic he was witnessing.

Bluma caught off guard, blinked before responding with a laugh. “We’ve made peace,” she said smoothly, offering Bron a look that suggested she knew exactly what he had shared with his friends.

The men teased Bron a little, and Bluma found herself on the receiving end of several rapid-fire questions.

Phil, a friendly yet bold man, was the first to ask, “So, Bluma, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a Patent Attorney,” she answered, her voice steady and confident.

The men exchanged impressed glances, and Paul’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow, a Patent Attorney. Bron, ain't you a lucky one?” he said, his tone filled with genuine admiration. “Smart, beautiful, and not afraid to get in the field—if you don’t date her, you’re an idiot.”

Bluma found herself surprised by the candidness of Phil’s words, but Bron didn’t appear fazed at all. He simply waved it off, clearly unfazed by the comment.

“Well, okay then,” Bron said, his voice carrying a sense of finality. “I need to show her around a bit, so we’re walking away now.”

With that, he grabbed Bluma’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. The gesture was both natural and unexpected, and for a moment, Bluma simply stared at their hands, her mind racing as she tried to decipher the meaning behind the simple action.

Bron guided her through the backstage area, showing her different places where the magic of the show came together from the production rooms, the areas where wrestlers prepared, and the different departments that kept the spectacle running smoothly. Bluma was captivated by the scale of everything. It was bigger than she had imagined. The people, the lights, the buzz, it all seemed so much larger than life, and yet here she was, standing in the heart of it all, alongside Bron.

Soon enough, the event kicked off, and Bluma found herself watching from a private seating area with Bron. Triple H, ever the charismatic showman, took to the stage to hype the crowd. His booming voice echoed throughout the arena, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

Then country singer Jelly Roll took the stage, performing “God Bless America” and “Liar,” one of the two theme songs for the night. The energy in the stadium was infectious. Bluma couldn’t help but be swept up in it, though she remained keenly aware of the man standing next to her.

As the opening match between Liv Morgan and Rhea Ripley unfolded on the screen, Bluma turned to Bron.

“So, who’s going to win this one?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the action on the screen.

Bron leaned back in his seat, his eyes sharp and focused on the screen. “Liv’s tough, but Rhea has that edge,” he said, offering a brief but thoughtful analysis.

It wasn’t long before the match concluded, with Dominik Mysterio betraying Rhea Ripley by kissing Liv Morgan at ringside. The unexpected turn of events added a layer of drama to the night’s proceedings.

Bron, however, stood up with a sense of urgency. His match was next.

“I’ll see you ringside,” he said to Bluma before he turned to leave, his posture straight and determined. Bluma watched him for a moment before turning to the security guard, who would escort her to her ringside seat.

As Bron made his way backstage to finish preparing, Bluma couldn’t help but feel a little excitement building inside her. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something about this night, about seeing Bron in his element felt different.

She gave him a wave, mouthing “Good luck,” before following the guard through the maze of corridors that led to the ringside area.

Bron’s match was the second one of the night, a high-stakes contest for the Intercontinental Championship against Sami Zayn. Bluma took her seat, eagerly awaiting the showdown.

The match began with Bron’s signature aggression, attempting to take Sami down quickly with a spear. However, Sami, ever the crafty veteran, dodged the move, leaving Bron crashing into the corner instead. The two men traded blows, each determined to prove their dominance, but it was clear that Bron’s raw power and speed were key advantages.

Sami, for all his experience, struggled to match Bron’s intensity. Bron hit him with a devastating spear, sending him crashing to the mat, and soon, after a dramatic series of moves, Bron pinned Sami Zayn to claim his first Intercontinental Championship. The arena erupted with cheers, and Bluma stood up, her hands clapping together in enthusiastic applause.

Bron turned toward her, offering a quick wink before signaling for her to head backstage. Bluma smiled brightly and made her way through the crowd, her heart racing with excitement.

Backstage, Bron was waiting for her by the curtain, his face flushed with the adrenaline of victory. Without saying a word, he pulled her into a hug, the embrace feeling both celebratory and intimate. The WWE photographer snapped a picture of the two of them, freezing the moment in time.

As they walked together toward the gorilla position, Bron introduced Bluma to his boss, Paul “Triple H” Levesque. The two men exchanged congratulations, and Bluma found herself caught up in the whirlwind of attention. It was strange but also exciting.

As the evening continued, Bron seemed to keep a quiet watch on Bluma. She, in turn, noticed how Bron was engaging with everyone around him, but always keeping a subtle focus on her. It was as if she was now a part of his world, something more than just the woman he had invited out of the blue.

As they walked through the backstage area, the atmosphere shifted. It became quieter, more intimate. It was here, away from the crowds and the chaos, that they shared a moment of genuine conversation. They talked about their lives, their work, and their worlds outside of the neighborhood. It was then that Bron asked, almost shyly, if she was single.

Bluma smiled. “Yes,” she said, her eyes meeting his with a knowing look.

Then, just as quickly, the conversation stalled. Bron was suddenly shy, and Bluma could see the vulnerability in him that was usually hidden beneath the tough persona he wore for the cameras. It was cute, in a way. But she wasn’t going to make the first move. If he wanted her, he had to say it.

She gently told him to go get cleaned up, before walking away, leaving him to gather himself.

As Bron disappeared into the locker room, Bluma’s mind was still buzzing with the energy of the night. Then, as if on cue, a familiar voice called out her name.

“Bluma?” Joseph’s voice was surprised, almost disbelieving.

She turned to find Joseph Fatu, better known in the wrestling world as Solo Sikoa, standing before her.

“Joseph!” she greeted warmly, offering him a smile.

The two of them quickly caught up, and she was soon reminded of how well she had gotten along with his wife, Almia. They shared stories and jokes, and Joseph casually mentioned that he had heard rumors circulating about her relationship with Bron.

“I’m not his girlfriend… yet,” Bluma said with a smirk. “He has to grow some balls first and ask me. But yeah, he invited me here, so I guess that’s a step in the right direction.”

Joseph laughed, clearly enjoying her candor.

“Bron doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into with you,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “That prank war you two had going on doesn’t even scratch the surface of your craziness.”

Bluma grinned. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually.”

Their conversation turned to other matters. Joseph and Almia’s growing family and the upcoming baby shower that Bluma would be hosting. Bluma promised not to overdo it with the party planning, though she had a hard time keeping it low-key.

As the conversation drew to a close, Bron appeared, walking toward them with an intensity that made Bluma’s heart race. He wasn’t trying to hide the slight tension in his posture, and Bluma noticed how his eyes narrowed when they landed on Joseph.

There was something about the way Bron was looking at them, something that sparked a strange emotion inside him. Despite being friends with Joseph, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched Bluma laugh and talk so animatedly with him.

Clearing his throat, Bron stepped forward, making his presence known.

Bluma’s eyes immediately lit up. “Bron, I know you already know Joseph, but this is Joseph. I’ve worked with his wife, Almia. We’re friends.”

Joseph smiled, unfazed by Bron’s sudden appearance. “Hey, Bron. You know Almia and I are going to need to have a double date soon, right?” he said, his voice light and teasing.

Bron chuckled, his voice low. “Yeah.”

Bluma laughed, shaking her head. “You know a double date with them is an interrogation, right?”

Bron nodded with a knowing look. “I’m sure they’ll take it easy on me,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

⸻ September 23, 2024

Bluma had found herself at another WWE event, and this time, it felt different. The electricity of the arena buzzed around her as the night unfolded, the crowd's energy reverberating through every inch of her being.

As she sat backstage, just behind the curtains, she glanced at Bron, who was deep in conversation with a few of his colleagues. His body language was tense, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. She knew that Bron, for all his strength and bravado in the ring, was feeling the sting of his recent loss.

After all, his reign as Intercontinental Champion had come to an end in front of thousands of fans, his title slipping away to Joshua. The loss had cut deep, but there was something else, too, something that tugged at Bluma’s heartstrings, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She had been with him backstage since the end of the match, offering him comfort in her quiet, steady way. She had learned over time how to be there for him, how to support him in ways he couldn’t always express. While he had lost the match, he hadn’t lost the spark of energy that had drawn her to him. Bluma knew that, for Bron, this moment was a disappointment, a bump in the road. But she also saw how he was processing it, slowly, in his way. And through it all, she was right there by his side.

Their relationship had evolved, even in ways that neither of them had expected. After the double date with Joseph and Almia, the barriers between them seemed to dissolve, slowly but surely. They had moved past the feuding and bickering, the playful rivalry that had once defined their interactions.

Instead, they had become a little like magnets, drawn together, unable to resist each other. They had found themselves stuck like glue, a bond forming between them that was undeniable. They were not officially a couple, but everyone around them could sense the growing connection, the way their chemistry had shifted.

Bluma had met his parents, an event that had been as overwhelming as it had been heartwarming. She had seen another side of Bron that she hadn’t quite known before, the easy way he laughed with his family, the unspoken affection between him and his parents, the way they ribbed him playfully, teasing him about everything from his childhood antics to his career. It had felt natural, this inclusion into his world, as though she had always been meant to be there, beside him, a part of his life that had finally come together in a way neither of them had anticipated.

Back in the backstage area now, Bluma looked at Bron, watching as he ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and quiet contemplation. His match had been brutal, the loss weighing heavily on him, but even in his disappointment, Bluma could see the flickers of hope in his eyes. She had learned to read him, to understand his moods, and she knew that this wasn’t the end for him. He was resilient, and like the fighter he was, he would rise again.

Bluma smiled gently, reaching out to touch his arm, a simple gesture of support that spoke volumes. “You’ll get it back,” she said softly, her voice warm and steady. She wasn’t offering empty words. She truly believed that Bron would rise again, that this loss would be just another part of his journey. He nodded in response, his lips curving upward ever so slightly, grateful for her presence, even if he couldn’t fully express it at the moment.

Despite his loss, there was a sense of calm that settled over Bron when Bluma was near. She had become a constant in his life, someone he could count on in ways that others couldn’t. It was strange to think about it, but he realized, deep down, that Bluma wasn’t just a passing part of his world. She was becoming his anchor.

The night unfolded with the usual backstage bustle, the sound of crew members coordinating the next segments, the quiet conversations between wrestlers, and the incessant ringing of cell phones.

Yet, amidst the noise, Bron couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of clarity. This was more than just a match or a title. This was about something bigger, something more personal. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew that Bluma was a part of it, a part of him now, and that felt like the beginning of something new.

After the show wrapped up and the crowd slowly filed out of the arena, Bron and Bluma made their way back to their hotel. The adrenaline of the night was still palpable, but in the quiet of their hotel room, it was just the two of them, away from the chaos, away from the public eyes.

Bron glanced at Bluma, his heart still racing from the intensity of the match. “You hungry?” he asked, his voice hoarse, but not from the loss, just the exhaustion of the night.

Bluma, who had been running on pure energy and adrenaline since the moment she arrived, smiled. “A little bit. Why?”

“I was thinking,” Bron began, his words trailing off as he stood and walked toward the door, “maybe we could grab a late dinner. Just the two of us. No crowds, no distractions.”

Bluma raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his offer. It wasn’t like Bron to be so casual, so spontaneous, especially after a loss. But there was something about the way he said it, the sincerity in his tone, that made her want to say yes.

“Sounds nice,” she said with a small smile. “Where to?”

Bron grinned, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I have a place in mind,” he said as he reached for his jacket. Bluma followed him out, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway.

An hour later, at the restaurant which was dimly lit, warm, and intimate, the kind of place that felt like a hidden gem, far removed from the bright lights of the arena. The candles on the table flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls. As they sat down, the weight of the evening seemed to fall away, leaving behind a sense of calm. The world outside felt miles away, and it was just the two of them, talking and laughing like they had done so many times before.

They talked about everything, about Bron’s match, of course, but also about the small, everyday things that made up their lives. They spoke about the places they wanted to visit, the food they loved, and the future they both were trying to shape, even if they didn’t have all the answers yet. Their conversation flowed easily like they had known each other for years.

As the night went on, the atmosphere grew warmer and more intimate. The tension from the match had melted away, and now it was just about enjoying each other’s company, enjoying the moment. The waiter arrived with dessert, placing a slice of decadent chocolate cake in front of Bluma.

She glanced at it, a puzzled expression crossing her face. Then, her eyes moved down to the plate. In the center of the dessert, written in chocolate syrup, were the words: *“Will you be my girlfriend?”*

Bluma’s heart skipped a beat. Her hand hovered over the cake as she blinked, taking in the unexpected gesture. She looked up at Bron, who was watching her with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The words, the question, everything about the moment was so simple, so pure. It was as if, in this quiet moment between them, everything had fallen into place.

She smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice thick with the weight of the moment.

Bron’s face broke into a grin, and without a second thought, he leaned across the table, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of meaning and promise. The world seemed to disappear in that moment as if nothing else mattered but the two of them, together, in this tiny bubble of happiness they had created for themselves.

The kiss lingered, sweet and tender, before they both pulled away, gazing at each other with a new understanding. They had crossed a threshold, moved from uncertainty to certainty, from the realm of possibilities to something more real, something more grounded. It wasn’t just about titles or matches or anything else. It was about them, and this was the start of something new.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say yes,” Bron murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bluma smiled again, her eyes soft. “I think I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she said, her tone playful yet full of warmth.

They sat there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around them. Outside, the night stretched on, but inside the restaurant, in that little corner of the world, it was just the two of them. And for the first time, it felt like the beginning of a new chapter. One where they didn’t need to fight for what they wanted, where they didn’t need to wonder if it would work. It just would.

As they left the restaurant, hand in hand, the city lights glimmered around them. The night was still young, and the future was waiting, just ahead of them. They had taken the first step, and it felt like everything was falling into place.

⸻ October 9, 2024

Bron had always been private about his life, particularly when it came to relationships. He was used to the glare of the spotlight when it came to his wrestling career, but there was something different about sharing his personal life with the public.

Still, as he sat with Bluma in her living room on a quiet afternoon, there was a sense of calm in the air. The decision to make their relationship public seemed right. They had been growing closer, and though they weren’t putting a label on their relationship just yet, there was no denying the connection between them.

Bluma had been at the center of his thoughts for months, and after their dinner together, after everything that had happened since, Bron realized that the time had come. He had seen how the dynamic between them had shifted from just neighbors to friends, to something deeper.

And now, as they spent more time together, it seemed natural to let the world in. The thought of sharing their relationship on social media was both thrilling and daunting at the same time.

"Bluma," Bron said, looking at her carefully, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his coffee cup. "Is it okay if I start posting pictures of us on my Instagram? You know, just so people know we’re a thing."

Bluma glanced at him, her expression thoughtful for a moment. She’d already known it was coming. Ever since they’d started seeing each other, she had anticipated the questions, the curiosity. She wasn’t naïve to the public’s interest in Bron’s life, especially with his rising star in WWE. She wasn’t surprised by the question. It was a natural next step in their relationship, as much as it felt overwhelming. Still, she found herself looking at him, gauging his sincerity, his nervousness.

"Yeah," Bluma said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It’s fine, Bron. If you want to post it, go ahead."

His eyes lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. "You sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it’s fine," she reassured him. "I’m okay with it. We’ve been spending so much time together, and I think it’s good to be open about it."

Bron’s smile deepened. "Thanks," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "I’ll post something later today, then."

And just like that, the decision had been made. Bron picked up his phone, and within minutes, a picture appeared on his Instagram: a candid shot of him and Bluma walking through the backstage area at a WWE event. Bron had his arm casually draped over her shoulder, and Bluma was smiling up at him, her expression content, as if they were just two people, completely at ease with one another. The caption was simple: "Spending time with the right person."

It didn’t take long for the reactions to come flooding in. Fans of Bron Breakker were quick to share their thoughts. Some were excited, commenting on how they had been rooting for him to find someone special. Others were more curious, speculating on who Bluma was and what she did. It was to be expected. Bron had kept his private life separate from his wrestling persona for so long, and now that it was out there, people were hungry for more.

The media wasn’t far behind. Within hours of Bron’s post, articles began popping up across various entertainment and sports sites. Headlines like “Bron Breakker Goes Public with His New Relationship” and “Meet the Woman Behind Bron Breakker’s Smile” appeared. There was an immediate interest in Bluma. Fans and journalists alike wanted to know more about her, who she was, what she did, and how she and Bron had met. It was a rush, a whirlwind that Bluma wasn’t fully prepared for.

At first, Bluma had been indifferent to the attention. She had her own life, and her own career, and the world of wrestling was something she had only recently dipped her toes into. She had grown used to the idea of people being curious about Bron, but this? This level of scrutiny was new.

Her phone buzzed incessantly, with new Instagram followers popping up on her notifications every few seconds. Some of the comments on her photos were supportive, others were filled with questions. It didn’t take long for Bluma to realize that her privacy was no longer entirely her own. People wanted answers. They wanted to know everything from her job as a patent attorney to her favorite color. She wasn’t prepared for the sudden invasion of her personal space, and she found herself grappling with the reality of her relationship with Bron being so public.

Almia had warned her that this would happen. She had told Bluma that the moment her relationship with Bron went public, it would cause a ripple effect. Almia, who knew the dynamics of the wrestling world all too well, had cautioned her about the intense scrutiny that would inevitably follow.

"Just remember, Bluma," Almia had said over the phone a few days before, "you’re dating a WWE Superstar. People will want to know everything about you. Just be ready for it."

Bluma had nodded at the time, agreeing with her friend’s words, but now that it was happening, she realized just how intense the attention could be. The constant buzz of her phone was overwhelming, the steady stream of new followers on Instagram, the articles, the endless speculation. It was all a bit much.

As Bluma sat on the couch in her living room, scrolling through the notifications on her phone, she felt a growing unease.

Bron could sense her discomfort. He was sitting next to her, looking over at the phone in her hand, his brow furrowing slightly. He had known this moment would come, the inevitable backlash of public attention but seeing it affect her like this made him feel protective.

"You okay?" he asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

Bluma looked up at him, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I knew this was going to happen, but I didn’t realize how fast it would happen. People are already digging into my personal life. It’s kind of... unsettling."

Bron nodded, his expression softening. "I get it," he said, running a hand through his hair. "This is all new for both of us. I didn’t expect it to come with this much attention, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you."

Bluma appreciated his sincerity, but at the same time, she didn’t want to make him feel guilty. "I know this isn’t your fault," she said. "I’m just not used to this kind of... scrutiny. It’s different when it’s just about you, but now that I’m involved..."

Bron cut her off with a reassuring smile. "I get it," he said again. "And if you want, I can release a statement. Just a simple one, asking people to respect your privacy. Maybe that’ll help, give us some space."

Bluma thought about it for a moment, weighing the option. She appreciated his willingness to help, but part of her didn’t want to escalate things too much. "Maybe save that for when it gets more... stalkerish," she said, her tone light, though there was a hint of discomfort. "I don’t want to make a big deal out of it unless we have to."

Bron nodded, respecting her wishes. "Alright. But just know, if it gets too much, we’ll deal with it together."

Bluma gave him a grateful smile. She could feel the weight of his words, the protection he was offering. But even so, she knew there was no escaping the constant attention that would follow them.

Just as she was about to say something else, her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw the familiar name: Mom. Bluma rolled her eyes, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"Mom," she muttered under her breath, before answering the call.

The second she picked up, Ekene’s voice was sharp and without greeting. "So, I have to find out that you're in a relationship from a WhatsApp link to an article?" Her mother’s voice was laced with disbelief.

"I thought we agreed that I wasn't going to tell you about any relationship unless I announced that I'm engaged,” Bluma said.

“Not when the relationship comes with an article link,” Her mother said.

Bluma smirked, a hint of amusement in her eyes despite her mother’s tone. "Well, mommy, I’m dating a nice young man named Bron," she said, trying to keep the situation light.

Ekene didn’t miss a beat. "Is he there?" she asked, not even acknowledging the tone of Bluma’s words.

Bluma glanced at Bron, a playful glint in her eyes. "Yeah, he’s here," she said, handing the phone over to him.

Bron took the phone, clearly nervous. He wasn’t used to dealing with parents, especially not in situations like this. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Hi, Mrs. Bashir. It’s Bron."

Immediately, Ekene began firing questions at him, her tone sharp and unrelenting. "What are your intentions with my daughter? Are you serious about her? She deserves nothing less than respect, and if you're not prepared for that, you can walk away right now."

Bron took a deep breath, calming himself before responding. He could feel the weight of the questions, but he answered truthfully, speaking from the heart. "Mrs. Bashir, I respect Bluma more than anything. I’m serious about her. She means a lot to me, and I’ll always treat her with the respect she deserves."

Bluma could hear her mother’s skeptical pause on the other end of the phone. Finally, Ekene spoke, this time with a slightly softer tone. "Well, I suppose I’ll need to meet you then. Dinner this weekend. We’ll see how serious you are."

Bron couldn’t help but smile at the thought of meeting Bluma’s mother. "Sounds like a plan, Mrs. Bashir," he said, relieved that the conversation had shifted from suspicion to curiosity.

After Bron handed the phone back to her, Bluma looked at him, a mischievous smile crossing her face. "Looks like you’re meeting my parents this weekend."

Bron’s eyes widened slightly, but he chuckled nervously. "I guess I better start preparing then."

Bluma laughed, the tension easing as they shared a moment of levity. It wasn’t going to be easy, navigating the challenges that came with being in the public eye, but with Bron by her side, Bluma knew they could handle whatever came their way.

Next: Love Thy Neighbor 3

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor Masterlist

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

Bronson Rechsteiner (born October 24, 1997) is an American professional wrestler and former football player. As of October 2024, he is signed to WWE, where he performs on the Raw brand under the ring name Bron Breakker.

Bluma Bashir (born February 26, 1996) is an American Patent Attorney.

Chapters

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Last Updated: March 2, 2025

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor 4

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

Previous: Love Thy Neighbor 3

⸻ January 10, 2025

On the night of her father’s 55th birthday, Bluma stood at the heart of a lavish celebration in her parents’s mansion, surrounded by an assortment of influential and high-profile guests. The air was filled with an intoxicating blend of soft jazz, the clink of champagne glasses, and the hum of sophisticated conversation.

The mansion was adorned with gold and blue accents, its grand marble floors and sparkling chandeliers reflecting the wealth and prestige that her family had worked hard to build. It was a black-tie affair, a hallmark of the kind of elegant event her father routinely hosted.

Bluma was no stranger to the lavish lifestyle that her family enjoyed, but tonight she felt the familiar mix of excitement and the pressure of expectation. As she made her way through the crowd, the glimmer of her gold Schiaparelli haute couture gown caught the light, drawing the eyes of nearly everyone in the room.

The dress was a masterful creation. Its golden hue accentuated her brown skin. The gown clung to her curvy figure, highlighting her small waist and fuller hips, the thigh-high slit daringly showing off the length of her legs.

She was 5'5", and in those Louboutin heels, she felt taller, the hem of the dress trailing gracefully behind her. Her hair, styled in an elegant updo with a few loose curls framing her face, added to her regal presence.

Her father, ever the proud patriarch, stood beside her as they greeted guests. She smiled politely, her bright teeth a contrast against her soft, cocoa complexion, but as much as she smiled, Bluma couldn’t help but feel the weight of the evening’s undercurrent: the questions, the comments, the assumptions.

It didn’t take long for Bluma to notice the pattern that had emerged: everyone seemed to be more interested in her personal life than the celebration of her father’s milestone birthday.

Her gaze shifted toward Bron, standing near the edge of the room, his sharp, tailored dark blue velvet blazer gleaming under the chandelier light. He looked effortlessly stylish, wearing the blazer over a black turtleneck that fit him like a glove, his black trousers falling neatly around his loafers.

It was obvious that he didn’t quite fit the mold of the Nigerian high-society crowd that Bluma was accustomed to, but he wore the look with a kind of quiet confidence that she found endearing.

Bluma tried to focus on the festivities, but as the night wore on, she found herself cornered more than once.

An aunt would sidle up to her, champagne flute in hand, and ask the same invasive question: “When do you plan on getting married, Bluma?” Another would laugh and add, “Well, when are you going to settle down? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

It was like a recurring nightmare—an endless loop of expectations being thrust upon her, each relative seemingly more eager than the last to make sure she understood the importance of marrying, of following the prescribed timeline. The comments were always wrapped in a coat of concern, but they felt more like a demand than a genuine inquiry. Bluma, ever the gracious hostess, smiled through it all, but the question weighed on her.

She turned her head and noticed Bron surrounded by several uncles. One of them leaned in a little too close, his voice jovial but laced with that unmistakable seriousness of the older generation. “So, when do you plan on proposing to my niece?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as though he already expected the answer. Another chimed in, “You know, Bluma’s not getting any younger, Bron. You’ve been together for a while now.”

Bron’s face twisted into a polite smile, but it was clear the same discomfort she felt had settled in him too. He shifted from foot to foot, scanning the crowd for any sign of escape. As much as he tried to play along with the light-hearted banter, the questions kept coming, making him feel trapped.

Finally, he found Bluma again, stepping away from the crowd to seek solace. He found her in the kitchen, standing at the counter with a glass of wine in hand, looking as though she had momentarily retreated from the madness of the party. The kitchen, cool and dimly lit compared to the opulence of the ballroom, was a welcome refuge from the pressing questions and prying eyes.

“You left me out there to drown,” Bron said, his voice tinged with a mix of humor and frustration as he leaned against the counter beside her.

Bluma’s lips curled into a smile, but there was no mistaking the exhaustion in her eyes. “I told you to come and hide with me, but you claimed you could handle it,” she teased, trying to lighten the moment.

Bron chuckled, though there was a trace of disbelief in his expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever been bombarded with questions like that in my life,” he admitted, rubbing his temple as if to shake off the weight of the interaction.

Bluma shrugged nonchalantly, her curvy figure leaning casually against the counter. “After dealing with my family, I’m sure you’ll handle media questions like a pro,” she said, the playful edge in her voice betraying her amusement at his discomfort.

Bron met her gaze, giving her a soft chuckle. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she replied confidently, the firmness of her words surprising him for a moment. There was no doubt in her tone, no wavering of the confidence that always seemed to radiate from her.

Bluma’s eyes softened as she considered his earlier question. “Do you feel pressured by all of that?” she asked quietly, a flicker of concern rising in her chest for him.

Bron’s expression shifted as he took a beat to think about his response. “I don’t know… maybe a little,” he confessed, his voice low but steady. “But I think it’s more about you than about me. It’s about what you want, and I respect that.”

Bluma smiled, her eyes warm as she studied him. “Not really,” she replied. “I know I can’t get married just because they want me to. When I get married, it’ll be because that’s what I want, not because they’re asking me to.” She paused, then added with a knowing grin, “I know my family is obsessed with the idea of marriage, but it has to feel right for me.”

Bron nodded, understanding her completely. He could see how the constant pressure could be draining. “So, do you want to get married one day?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Bluma’s eyes softened, the idea of marriage clearly on her mind as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “I do,” she answered, her voice firm, as though the answer had always been there.

Bron looked at her for a moment, gauging her sincerity, before he replied with a quiet smile, “I do too.”

The moment hung in the air, and for a brief second, everything felt simple. They were on the same page, both of them knowing what they wanted, even if the path there was unclear.

Just then, Sonia entered the kitchen from the walk-in pantry, her eyes wide and mischievous. “Well, well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “What’s all this talk about marriage? You two are beating around the bush instead of just asking, ‘Hey, do you think you want to marry me?’” Her smirk was unapologetic, and she reveled in the discomfort she was about to stir up.

Bluma and Bron exchanged a look, both of them caught between laughter and exasperation. Bluma opened her mouth to respond, but Sonia beat her to it.

“So, do you two see yourselves getting married someday or what?” Sonia asked, the air around her filled with a kind of mischievous excitement.

Bluma couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. She glanced at Bron, the familiar warmth in her chest growing stronger as she met his gaze.

Bron smiled back at her, a goofy, genuine grin that made her heart flutter. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft but clear. “Yes, I see us getting married someday.”

Bluma nodded in agreement, her smile growing, her voice full of certainty as she answered, “Yes.”

Sonia’s eyes sparkled, her excitement palpable as she bounced on her toes. “I call dibs on being your maid of honor and chief bridesmaid!” she exclaimed, the enthusiasm in her voice ringing through the kitchen.

Bluma and Bron turned to look at her, shaking their heads, but a shared laugh passed between them. Despite the chaos of the night, despite the questions and the pressure, they both knew they had each other.

The world outside the kitchen seemed to fade into the background. Whatever came next. Whether it was proposals, wedding plans, or more questions. They would face it together.

⸻ January 25, 2025

The Frost Bank Center in San Antonio, Texas, was alive with the electric hum of anticipation. The crowd packed into the arena, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement for Saturday Night's Main Event XXXVIII.

Fans draped in a sea of colorful merchandise, holding signs and chanting for their favorite wrestlers, had gathered to witness a night of high-octane action. The event, a marquee show of WWE, promised drama, spectacle, and unforgettable moments, including none other than Bron, the defending WWE Intercontinental Champion, in a singles match against Sheamus.

Bluma, her parents, and her little sister, Sonia, had made the trip to San Antonio to support Bron. Bluma had been to many events before, but this was the first time she was bringing her entire family into the world that Bron occupied. She was excited for her parents to see him in action, to witness firsthand the world of WWE that had become such an integral part of his life. She hoped they would come to understand the dedication and passion that Bron poured into his career. But what she hadn’t expected was how quickly her father would seize the opportunity to turn this family outing into yet another one of his business ventures.

Bluma’s father, a man who was always attuned to business opportunities, wasted no time once they arrived backstage at the Frost Bank Center. Bluma and her mother had only just finished settling into the VIP area when Bluma's father, ever the opportunist, had already made his rounds, exchanging business cards with a handful of WWE executives and prominent figures who were milling about in the back corridors of the arena.

Bluma watched, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of admiration and disbelief, as her father smiled and shook hands with various backstage personalities. He was like a shark in the water always searching for the next deal, the next connection.

"I swear, that man could conduct business with a goat," Bluma’s mother muttered under her breath, shaking her head with a bemused expression on her face.

Bluma, who had seen this countless times before, simply rolled her eyes. "I would say I'm shocked, but I'm not. Bron, I'm so sorry for his behavior," she said, turning to Bron, who stood nearby, giving her a rueful smile.

Bron, ever the good sport, shrugged nonchalantly. "It's okay. Your dad’s a businessman first, right?" he said, his tone light and unfazed. "I’m just glad your parents could come out and see me in my world."

Bluma couldn't help but chuckle at his response. Bron was always the calm in the storm, never allowing the chaos of the wrestling world to rattle him. But she knew her father’s relentless pursuit of opportunities could sometimes border on overwhelming. "And where is Sonia?" Bron asked, looking around for her younger sister, who had disappeared into the crowd a few moments before.

Bluma sighed, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "She may be following in my footsteps and snatching herself up a wrestler," Her mother joked, though there was a hint of concern in her voice as she remembered Sonia's tendency to chase after anything with a good jawline and a winning smile.

Bluma, still looking at her father in disbelief, added with a wry smile, "Oh God, Sonia may get us banned from WWE. You know how aggressive she is with her flirting. I swear, she’ll get herself banned before we even get out of here."

Just as they shared a laugh over the matter, Sonia appeared again, sauntering back into the VIP area, her eyes twinkling with excitement. She had made an impression on someone. Bluma raised an eyebrow but said nothing, knowing her younger sister had a way of weaving herself into all sorts of situations, much to her parents’ chagrin. Sonia flopped down into the empty seat next to Bluma, her wide grin suggesting she’d enjoyed herself.

"Did you get a good look at the wrestlers backstage?" Bluma asked, her tone a mix of teasing and curiosity.

Sonia simply winked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe," she said cryptically, before turning her attention to the ring.

"Just try not to get us thrown out, alright?" Bluma added with a sigh.

Bron left and they made their way to their seats near the ring for his match. As the lights in the arena dimmed, signaling the start of the second match, the crowd erupted into cheers, and the energy in the air seemed to surge.

The commentators’ voices echoed through the loudspeakers, hyping up the matchup that everyone had been waiting for: Bron Breakker versus Sheamus, for the WWE Intercontinental Championship.

The match began with a bang, both Bron and Sheamus exchanging fierce strikes and locking up in the center of the ring. The crowd’s energy was palpable as the wrestlers worked their way through a brutal series of moves. Bron, as always, displayed his raw athleticism and power, but Sheamus held his own with his ruthless strength and experience.

Jesse Ventura, one of the commentators, was a constant source of entertainment, his commentary was both insightful and full of humor. As Bron and Sheamus grappled in the ring, Ventura couldn’t help but make a joke about Bron’s wrestling skills, comparing his mathematical logic to a famous quote from Scott Steiner.

"Bron Breakker must think 2 + 2 equals 5!" Jesse joked, drawing a laugh from the audience.

Bluma leaned forward, captivated by the match. She had seen Bron fight countless times, but each time, the spectacle of it all still amazed her. She was glued to the edge of her seat, her eyes following every move, every slam, every leap. The intensity of the match was unmatched, and she could feel her heart racing as Bron went for a wild bump, flying over the barricade and landing on an office chair with a sickening thud. She winced at the impact but knew Bron was tough enough to take it.

"How much does Bron get paid to put his body through this?" Bluma’s mother asked, her tone a mix of awe and concern as she watched the brutality unfold.

Sonia, ever the resourceful one, answered quickly. "I heard their salaries start around $200,000," she said, glancing over at her mother. "And that’s just the base salary. Bonuses and endorsements are a whole different story."

Bluma’s mother shook her head, clearly incredulous. "That’s insane. No amount of money is worth this kind of pain," she muttered.

Meanwhile, Jesse Ventura was busy dissecting the match with his usual flair. "The referee's counting too slow!" he called out as Sheamus prepared for another move. "Come on, this is a championship match! Count faster!"

Bluma couldn’t help but laugh at Ventura’s antics. His commentary added an extra layer of entertainment to the already thrilling match. As the two wrestlers continued to exchange blows, it was clear that Sheamus was starting to take control. He lifted Bron onto his shoulders and executed a devastating Celtic Cross, sending Bron crashing hard into the mat. The crowd gasped, and the referee made the count.

"One... two..."

Bluma held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

"THREE—"

But the count was interrupted at the last second, and Bron kicked out, much to the crowd’s delight. The excitement was palpable, and Bluma let out a relieved sigh, her hands clutched together as she cheered her boyfriend on.

Despite Sheamus’ dominance in the ring, Bron wasn’t about to let the Intercontinental Championship slip through his fingers. He gathered his strength and managed to land a massive Spear, hitting Sheamus square in the midsection. The crowd roared with approval as Sheamus crumpled to the ground.

Bluma’s heart swelled with pride as Bron covered Sheamus for the pin, his powerful body lifting the larger man with ease.

"ONE... TWO..."

The crowd held their collective breath.

"THREE!"

The bell rang, and the arena erupted in cheers. Bron had successfully retained his title, and Bluma leaped out of her seat, her hands raised in victory. She couldn’t help but scream along with the rest of the crowd, her voice lost in the deafening roar of the fans.

Bluma turned to Bron, her eyes gleaming with pride as she saw him celebrate in the ring. "I can’t wait for the Royal Rumble," Sonia said, her voice filled with excitement as she watched the spectacle unfold before them.

Bluma smiled at her sister, but her thoughts were already racing ahead to the future. She knew the path Bron was on and the challenges he would continue to face, but she also knew how strong he was, both in the ring and out of it. Bluma felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was the world that Bron had built, and she was proud to be a part of it.

⸻ February 1, 2025

The 38th Annual Royal Rumble was set to be an unforgettable night, and as the energy inside Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis reached a fever pitch, Bluma and her sister, Sonia, found themselves backstage, absorbing the anticipation that filled the air.

The event was one of the most anticipated wrestling events of the year, with fans from all over the world descending upon the stadium to witness the chaos and excitement of the Royal Rumble match. But for Bluma and Sonia, this was more than just a show, it was a glimpse into the world of Bron.

Bluma stood beside Sonia, watching the bustling activity around them. Sonia, who had gained a massive following as a makeup YouTuber, was often the center of attention wherever she went. Her tutorials were known for their transformative power, and she had become a trusted voice in the beauty community. Tonight, however, the glitz of the wrestling world surrounded her. Despite being well-known online, Sonia wasn’t immune to the surreal feeling of being part of something as grand as the Royal Rumble.

Bluma couldn’t help but smile at her sister. Sonia’s excitement was contagious, but Bluma was more focused on the task at hand: watching the show, supporting her boyfriend, Bron, and not getting lost during all the commotion.

“Oh, I follow you on YouTube. Your makeup tutorials have been saving my life,” Bianca Belair said with a bright smile, approaching the two sisters. Bianca, an accomplished WWE star, had always been a fan of Sonia's tutorials, and it showed in her enthusiastic praise.

“Awe, thank you! If you want, I can do your makeup tonight,” Sonia offered, always ready to lend a hand to those in need of her expertise.

Bianca’s eyes lit up. “I would love that,” she said, before turning and walking away with Sonia. The two of them headed to a quiet corner, where Sonia would work her makeup magic, leaving Bluma standing alone in the busy backstage area.

Bluma pulled out her phone, checked her emails, and responded to a few text messages. She was no stranger to multitasking whether it was replying to clients or keeping up with friends, her mind was always at work. But tonight was different. Tonight was about family and the spectacle of the Royal Rumble.

After finishing up a few messages, Bluma decided to find Bron. Her boyfriend, who was the current Intercontinental Champion, was preparing for the biggest match of the night: the men’s Royal Rumble. She was proud of his achievements, and though she knew his chances of winning weren’t the highest, she couldn’t help but feel that spark of excitement every time she thought about him competing.

Bluma’s search didn’t take long. She found Bron backstage, posing for pictures with a photographer. The two had known each other for quite a while, and though their relationship had evolved, it still felt new and exciting. They shared a connection, one that had started as a playful rivalry but had blossomed into something deeper. Bron looked up when he saw her and immediately smiled.

“Hey,” Bluma greeted, walking over to him and giving him a warm hug.

“Hey, babe,” Bron said, his grin wide. He pulled her into a tight embrace before pulling away, looking down at her with affection. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be up in the skybox with your parents.”

“I was,” Bluma replied with a smile, glancing up toward the skybox where her parents were sitting. “But I needed a little break from Dad. You know how he can get around all these people. Business meetings, connections, it never stops.”

Bluma’s father was always in business mode, and while Bluma respected his professionalism, she appreciated her mother’s attempts to keep their family visits lighthearted. Tonight, her mom had insisted that Bluma join her and her father in the skybox to watch the event from a comfortable distance, far away from the chaos of the backstage area. But Bluma wasn’t one to sit quietly for too long.

“Do you know what number you are for the Rumble?” Bluma asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Number seven,” Bron answered, his tone casual but confident.

“My favorite number,” Bluma said with a smile. She loved that little connection, one of those small things that made her feel closer to him, even amid all the madness surrounding them.

Bron chuckled. “I’m not going to win, but it’s always a thrill to be in the Rumble. It’s a big night for all of us.”

Bluma nodded, a touch of pride in her eyes. “You’ve got this,” she said, squeezing his hand before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be cheering for you from the skybox.”

As Bron returned to the photographer for more shots, Bluma turned and made her way back toward the skybox. She knew that while her parents were eager to watch the event unfold, it was clear that her father had a lot more than just the Rumble on his mind. He was already making mental notes about potential business opportunities, discussing contracts and deals with the people sitting around them. Bluma couldn’t blame him, it was just how he was. But she was grateful that her mother had found a way to keep things from turning into a corporate event.

Once in the skybox, Bluma settled into her seat next to her parents. The energy in the arena was contagious, and the anticipation for the Royal Rumble was growing with every passing moment. The penultimate match was winding down, and it was clear that the main event, the Men’s Royal Rumble was fast approaching.

Bluma’s heart raced as the bell rang, signaling the start of the match. Rey Mysterio and Penta entered first, the crowd cheering as they went to battle. The intensity in the ring was discernible, and Bluma couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her attention was fully on the action, but part of her was always watching Bron’s potential opponents.

As the match progressed, more wrestlers entered the ring each adding a new layer of excitement to the mix. Bluma’s heart raced as Bron entered the match at number seven, the crowd erupting in applause. His presence was felt immediately. Akira Tozawa entered at number eight, but before he could even get started, he was attacked by Carmelo Hayes, who had just been eliminated. Tozawa was carried backstage, and IShowSpeed entered in his place. It was a surprising turn of events, but it was only the beginning.

Bron’s powerful Spear to IShowSpeed was a statement, one that sent the YouTuber flying over the top rope. For a brief moment, Bluma’s chest swelled with pride, watching as Bron took charge of the match.

But like any great wrestling match, the Rumble was unpredictable. Roman Reigns entered at number 16 and, in a shocking moment, eliminated Bron from the match. Bluma’s stomach dropped, but she knew it was just part of the game. Bron had fought valiantly, but there were always so many variables in the Rumble.

The match continued to build in intensity as more wrestlers entered. Drew McIntyre, Shinsuke Nakamura, and AJ Styles, all of them adding their unique flavor to the chaos. But the biggest moment came when John Cena entered at number 23, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The ring was filled with some of the most recognizable names in wrestling, and the energy in the arena reached a fever pitch.

Then, at number 30, Logan Paul made his appearance, and the crowd’s excitement reached a crescendo. The final four came down to Punk, Cena, Paul, and Jey Uso, and the match became even more unpredictable.

After a tense series of eliminations, it was Jey Uso who ultimately stood victorious, throwing Cena over the top rope to claim the win. The crowd exploded in applause, and Bluma couldn’t help but feel the excitement of the moment. While Bron hadn’t won, it had been an incredible night, filled with surprises and unforgettable moments.

Bluma clapped along with her parents, watching as Jey Uso celebrated his victory, knowing that he would soon challenge for a championship at WrestleMania 41. It had been a night of passion and triumph and for Bluma, it had been a night to remember, filled with memories she would carry with her long after the final bell had rung.

⸻ February 14, 2025

blumabashir 2m

On their first Valentine’s Day together, Bron and Bluma shared a perfect blend of surprise, romance, and joy, marking the start of what was destined to become a cherished memory in the story of their relationship.

From the moment they woke up to the final whispers of the night, the day unfolded as a series of beautifully planned moments, each one more special than the last.

The morning began with a soft light creeping through the curtains of Bluma’s bedroom. The sun had risen with the promise of a glorious day ahead, and the world outside felt as though it had quietly held its breath in anticipation.

Bluma, still curled under the warmth of her blankets, stretched out lazily, unaware of the magic that had been set in motion while she slept. Bron had prepared everything with a sense of care and attention to detail that Bluma had come to know and love in him.

As she slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to the side, the first thing she saw was a soft glow of red and pink. She blinked, not fully understanding what she was seeing, but then, the realization struck like a wave. The room was filled with dozens of heart-shaped balloons, floating weightlessly in the air, creating a dreamy and surreal atmosphere. Some balloons were tied to the bedposts, and others gently brushed against the walls, as if they had minds of their own, drifting and twirling like delicate confetti in the soft morning light.

At the center of the room was a larger-than-life balloon decoration that spelled out the word “LOVE” in bold, elegant letters. The sight took Bluma’s breath away. The letters were outlined in gold foil, and as the sunlight hit them, they shimmered with an ethereal glow, creating an almost magical effect.

She sat up, feeling a rush of affection, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness that had gone into such an intimate gesture. It wasn’t just the balloons that filled the room with warmth, but the sentiment behind them, the love that Bron had for her, expressed through these small, yet grand, symbols.

Bluma slowly got out of bed, the soft sound of the balloons drifting around her. She walked toward the bedroom door, still trying to absorb the sight. When she opened the door, there was Bron, standing in the hallway with a soft, affectionate smile on his face. His eyes, filled with a quiet intensity, met hers, and for a moment, nothing else seemed to exist.

"Good morning, beautiful," Bron whispered, his voice low and tender. His words seemed to fill the space between them, deepening the connection they already shared. He stepped forward, holding a single red rose in his hand, its petals perfectly formed, and rich in color.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he added softly, offering her the rose. Bluma took it with a smile, feeling a warmth blossom within her chest. It wasn’t just the gesture itself but the thought behind it that touched her deeply.

Together, they shared a quiet moment, standing in the doorway to Bluma’s bedroom, enveloped by the love they felt for one another. It was a simple act, one of many that Bron had arranged to set the tone for the day ahead, and Bluma, though initially overwhelmed, felt her heart swell with emotion.

They had only been together for a short while, but in this moment, it felt as though they had known each other for an eternity.

After a peaceful breakfast together, spent laughing over shared memories and enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence, Bron took Bluma by the hand. "There’s more to this day, my love," he said with a glimmer in his eye, the mystery of what was to come lingering in the air like a secret waiting to be revealed.

Bluma, now more than curious, followed Bron as he led her out of the house, their fingers interlaced, and a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Bron had always been a man of surprises, and she was eager to see what he had planned next. They drove for a while, the gentle hum of the car's engine providing a steady soundtrack to their journey. The world outside seemed to blur by, the scenery shifting from the familiar streets of the city to the open roads that led toward the coast.

As they arrived at their destination, Bluma’s heart skipped a beat. The air was thick with the saltiness of the sea, and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled her senses. They had arrived at a cozy beach getaway, a secluded spot where the sand met the water’s edge, and the world seemed to pause for a breath. The cottage was small but charming, with whitewashed walls and a wraparound porch that overlooked the ocean.

Bron had surprised her once again with his thoughtfulness. He had known how much Bluma loved the ocean, how it calmed her, how it made her feel free, and he had chosen this spot specifically for them. The moment they stepped out of the car, Bluma felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling of belonging, as though the world had aligned just for them in this perfect little corner of the earth.

They spent the afternoon walking along the beach, their feet sinking into the warm sand, the cool breeze tousling their hair. The sea stretched out before them in endless hues of blue, its vastness mirrored in the tenderness of the moment they shared. They talked, laughed, and sometimes just walked in silence, allowing the beauty of their surroundings to fill the spaces between them.

At one point, Bron led Bluma to a spot where the sand met the water, and there, waiting for her, was a large bouquet of red roses, the vibrant color contrasting sharply against the soft, muted tones of the beach. The roses were wrapped in delicate tissue paper, the stems tied with a satin ribbon, and Bluma could feel the weight of their significance. She had received flowers before, but none like this. These roses weren’t just flowers; they were a message, a testament to the love that Bron had for her.

Bluma took a deep breath, her fingers gently brushing over the petals as she gazed up at Bron, her eyes filled with gratitude and love. "You’re incredible," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Bron smiled, his eyes never leaving hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still, leaving them in their private universe.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the sand and the ocean, Bron and Bluma returned to the hotel room. They were greeted by a cozy, intimate setting, the soft glow of candlelight flickering in the windows. The table was set for two, adorned with delicate china, crystal glassware, and silver cutlery that caught the light in the most enchanting way.

The scent of a delicious meal wafted from the kitchen, and as they sat down to dine, they shared not only food but a deeper connection, a sense of appreciation for the simple, beautiful moments they had created together.

The dinner was a culinary masterpiece, each course more delectable than the last. The flavors were rich, and the conversation was even richer. They spoke of their hopes for the future, of dreams they shared, and the memories they had already created in the short time they had been together. Each word felt like a promise, each glance a vow.

There, in the dim light of the hotel room, with the sound of the waves crashing just beyond the door, it was as though the world was holding its breath again, watching them, waiting for something beautiful to unfold.

After dinner, as the evening settled into night, Bron reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He placed it in front of Bluma, his eyes glinting with excitement. Bluma looked at the box, her heart racing as she reached for it, her fingers trembling slightly. She opened it slowly, revealing two Timeless Classic Diamond Couple Watches from Pascal. The watches were exquisite, the diamonds sparkling against the polished metal, the craftsmanship impeccable.

“These,” Bron said softly, “are for us. A symbol of the time we’ve shared, and the time we’ll continue to share.” Bluma’s eyes filled with tears, touched by the sentiment and the depth of thought behind the gift. It wasn’t just the watches that moved her, it was the understanding that Bron had chosen something that represented the passage of time, the moments they had already shared, and the ones they would continue to create.

They exchanged watches, slipping them onto each other’s wrists, and for a moment, there was nothing else. The watches, glinting in the candlelight, seemed to hold within them the promise of a future that was as bright and beautiful as the day they had spent together.

As the night drew to a close, and they sat side by side, watching the stars flicker in the darkened sky, Bron and Bluma knew that this Valentine’s Day, their first together, would always hold a special place in their hearts. It had been a day of surprises, a day of love, and a day of promises that would echo through the years to come.

The love they shared had blossomed into something beautiful, something timeless, and they knew that it was only the beginning of a journey that would last forever.

Next: Love Thy Neighbor 5

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

⸻ February 20, 2024

Bluma sat in her backyard on a warm, sunny afternoon, the kind of day that encouraged long, lazy moments of relaxation. Her lounge chair, positioned just under the shade of a tall oak tree, was the perfect spot for her to unwind. The garden around her was a patchwork of color, with vibrant flowers spilling out of beds and ivy creeping up the wooden fence. She took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh grass mixed with the earthy tang of soil and a faint hint of the wild jasmine that her neighbor's vines reached over the fence. It was peaceful here, the stillness of her private space providing a refuge from the world.

Bluma’s thoughts drifted to the quiet comfort of this moment. The hum of a lawnmower could be heard faintly in the distance, and the birds chirped overhead. Her mind was free of any distractions until an unexpected interruption caused her to snap back to reality. Out of nowhere, a football soared across the yard with a sharp, almost defiant arc and landed with a splash in her pool.

Her gaze flickered over the pool, eyes narrowing in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. The ball bobbed lazily in the water, its bright colors stark against the shimmering blue. Her eyes then drifted to the neighbor’s fence, where a man appeared, rising over the wooden panel like a jack-in-the-box. It was the first time she had seen him since he moved in a few months ago. Bluma had caught glimpses of him before, but they had never spoken until now.

"Hey, sorry about that," the man called out with an apologetic grin, his voice carrying easily across the short distance. "Could you toss that back my way?"

Bluma's lips twitched into an involuntary frown. She had no idea who he was, but that didn’t stop her from immediately finding him irritating. He was taller than she was, built in a way that suggested he took some pride in his physique. The kind of guy who likely spent more time at the gym than she cared to think about. And his tan, unnaturally dark, almost orange stood out against the paleness of his surroundings. She rolled her eyes in response to his request, feeling a slight frustration rise within her.

With a soft sigh, she reluctantly rose from her lounge chair, her fingers brushing against the fabric as she made her way toward the pool. Her bare feet padded across the cool stone of her patio, and she reached into the water, grasping the football. It was slick in her hands, the water still clinging to it like a reminder of the unwelcome interruption.

She didn't think twice before tossing it back toward him, her aim precise and effortless. The ball sailed across the yard, spinning through the air and landing with a soft thud at his feet.

"Nice arm," he said, his tone casual, as though he was complimenting a friend rather than some stranger he’d barely spoken to.

Bluma only shrugged the motion a dismissive wave. She wasn’t here for small talk or compliments, especially not from the guy who had just tossed a ball into her pool. She started to turn away, her eyes briefly scanning the yard for her chair.

Before she could retreat to her seat, the man moved away from the fence. His footsteps were heavy, and she could hear him laughing with someone on the other side of the yard, though it was more a low rumble of amusement than anything else. He seemed carefree, the sort of person who didn’t let anything bother him, at least not outwardly.

Bluma’s thoughts, however, began to shift as the sound of loud music suddenly filled the air. It was unmistakable. The thumping bass and garbled lyrics carried over the fence from his side of the duplex. The music had been blaring the night before, disturbing her sleep. It wasn’t just a song or two; it was a full-blown late-night party, the sort of noise that made it impossible to ignore.

She turned, her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed into a tight line. This wasn’t the first time either. She had tried to sleep through it the previous night, hoping it would eventually die down, but it never did. The music continued long into the early morning hours, making it impossible to rest. She had tried to be patient, but her patience had its limits.

Bluma’s gaze snapped back to the fence, and without thinking too much about it, she marched toward it. She was only 5'5", and the top of the fence stood a good couple of feet taller than her. But she had a solution for that. There was a small wooden box near her porch that she occasionally used as a plant stand. She grabbed it and dragged it over to the fence. With a grunt of effort, she climbed up, balancing herself carefully on the box. She could now see over the top of the fence, her eyes scanning his backyard.

It was a small space, but from where she stood, Bluma could make out a group of men gathered near the grill. They were laughing, the sound of their voices rising in the warm afternoon air. At the center of them was the man, the same one who had tossed the football over earlier. He was talking with the others, looking more relaxed than ever. His bright smile caught the sunlight, and there was something about his cocky confidence that made her grind her teeth.

Without hesitation, Bluma shouted over the fence.

"Hey, neighbor with the overly done tan!" she called, her voice cutting through the jovial chatter. It was the best insult she could muster on short notice, and she wasn’t exactly sorry for it. The words hung in the air for a second before a ripple of laughter spread among the group of men.

The man turned, looking up at her, his face breaking into a grin. "My name is Bronson," he called back, lifting his hand in a wave. "But you can call me, Bron."

"Sure, Bron," Bluma said, an eye roll adding emphasis to her words. She leaned over the fence, hands gripping the wood as she called down to him. "I just wanted you to know that you need to keep your music down at night. I don’t need to hear what you’re listening to at two in the morning."

The other men were still laughing, exchanging knowing glances. Bronson or Bron, as he preferred, smirked at her. There was a slight pause, and Bluma could see that he was thinking about something, probably how to respond.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice a little softer now, though the grin never left his face. "I’ll keep my music down…" He let the sentence hang in the air, clearly expecting something more.

"Bluma," she said simply, her tone cool as she responded. "My name is Bluma."

"Bluma, huh? Well, I’ll try to keep my music down," Bron replied, the promise sounding half-hearted as if he wasn’t entirely convinced he would honor it.

Bluma nodded, satisfied with the interaction, and as she stepped off the box, she felt her shoulders relax. But the moment she turned to walk back to her chair, she heard him shout over his shoulder.

"Hey, uso, turn the music up!" he called, the playful challenge hanging in the air as his friends cheered.

Bluma shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned back toward the house, her steps brisk as she retreated into the quiet of her living room. "Oh, Bron," she muttered under her breath. "You have no idea who you're messing with."

That night, the music returned with even more force. It pounded through the walls of her duplex, vibrating the windows, drowning out any possibility of peace. Bron had made it clear he wasn’t going to let this go without a fight, and Bluma knew this wouldn’t be the end of it.

The next day, Bluma decided to take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t just ignore the noise, not anymore. So, she set to work on her little plan. It wasn’t complicated, but it was effective.

She gathered a collection of garden gnomes, the little statues that usually lined the borders of her garden. She placed them carefully around Bron's front door, positioning them so that they faced inward, their beady eyes locked on the door. It was an odd, almost childish gesture, but it had the desired effect. When Bron walked out to head to the gym later that morning, he was met with the unsettling sight of a dozen or so gnomes, all staring at him in eerie unison.

Bron stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as he took in the bizarre sight. His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Oh, it’s on," he muttered to himself, knowing this was only the beginning of their petty feud.

And so it was. Neither of them could have predicted how this small exchange would spiral into something bigger, something neither of them could have foreseen.

⸻ March 20, 2024

Bluma's feud with Bron had been escalating in the most entertaining way imaginable. What had begun as a simple exchange of insults and petty pranks had now blossomed into a full-blown rivalry? Each day seemed to bring a new twist, a new escalation that left them both wondering just how far they would go before calling a truce. But neither of them had reached that point yet, and neither seemed inclined to.

Bluma stood in her backyard, the breeze rustling her hair, as she planned her next move. She had been working on a particularly devious idea for days now, and today felt like the perfect time to put it into action. She knew it was time to up the ante and show Bron just how serious she was about this little game they had started. His obnoxious antics had gone on long enough, and Bluma wasn't one to back down easily.

Her eyes darted to the fence that separated their yards. The wooden slats of the fence stood tall, marking the boundary between their homes. But to Bluma, that fence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. She had already proven that she could get over it. And today, she intended to do so once again.

She slipped through her sliding glass door and quietly padded across her kitchen to the back door. She glanced out the window to make sure Bron wasn’t outside, then grabbed a small step ladder that she used for gardening. With practiced ease, she set it up near the fence. Climbing up, Bluma quickly scaled the wooden barrier, her fingers gripping the top of the fence as she jumped down into Bron’s yard. The soft crunch of the grass beneath her feet was the only sound as she landed.

Bluma surveyed the backyard. The sun was setting low, casting long shadows across the yard. Bron’s furniture was arranged in its usual spot, but today it looked far too neat, too orderly. And that, Bluma decided, simply wouldn’t do. She moved quickly, lifting and shifting the pieces of furniture around, rearranging them in the most nonsensical way she could imagine. A chair was now placed on top of a table, and a small bench had been moved to the far side of the yard, right by the pool, in a spot that was completely impractical for sitting.

Bluma smirked as she looked at her handiwork. It was chaotic, absurd, and most importantly would drive Bron crazy. But she wasn’t done yet.

Next, she turned her attention to the pool. Bron had an above-ground pool that was large enough to swim in, but small enough to be easily managed in a suburban backyard. She had noticed the pool several times before, as it was one of the main features of his yard. Today, however, she had decided that the water needed a little “extra touch.”

Bluma reached into the small bag she had brought with her. Inside was a packet of pink dye. It was a harmless, temporary dye that she had picked up at a local hardware store, specifically for moments like this. She opened the packet carefully and sprinkled the dye into the pool, watching as the water slowly transformed from its usual clear blue to a vibrant, bubblegum pink. The sight made her chuckle, knowing just how much it would irritate Bron.

With a satisfied grin on her face, Bluma hopped back over the fence, landing softly in her yard. She took a moment to catch her breath and admire her work. The mischievous satisfaction was palpable, and she could already picture the look of surprise and anger on Bron’s face when he stepped outside to find his backyard in such disarray.

She glanced back over her shoulder toward Bron’s house, then turned to walk into her own. With a final glance at the scene she had created, Bluma disappeared inside, closing the sliding door behind her with a soft click. She had done her part. Now, it was Bron's turn to react.

It didn’t take long for Bluma’s anticipation to be rewarded. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the sky was painted with hues of purple and orange. She had just settled into her living room when she heard the unmistakable sound of the backdoor opening. From her vantage point on the second floor, Bluma had a clear view of Bron’s backyard, and she grinned as she saw him step outside, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks.

He was planning on a late-night swim to unwind, a plan that would now be thoroughly disrupted by Bluma’s little prank. Bron didn’t notice the changes at first, his focus entirely on the pool. But as he made his way toward the water, he stopped dead in his tracks. Bluma’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she saw him survey the mess she had made. His head snapped toward the rearranged furniture, his mouth open in disbelief. His brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes fell to the pool. The pink water shimmered under the lights of his backyard as if mocking him.

Bluma could hardly contain her laughter. It was the perfect moment. And she wasn’t about to let it slip away. From her balcony, she leaned forward slightly, waving at him with a playful grin plastered across her face. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Bron’s face darkened in irritation, and Bluma could practically hear the groan of frustration as he muttered something under his breath. He turned toward the balcony, his gaze locking with hers, and without missing a beat, he flipped her the middle finger.

"Bluma!" he yelled, his voice carrying across the yards. "What the hell is this?"

Bluma raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, feigning innocence as she waved at him again. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," she called back, her voice sweet and teasing. "What’s the matter, Bron? Don’t you like the new look?"

Bron’s eyes narrowed, and she could see the anger building behind them. "You’re only making things worse for you, you know that right?" he said, his tone low and threatening. The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Bluma couldn’t resist. She rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the railing of the balcony. "Oh, I’m so scared," she called back, sarcasm dripping from every word. She gave him a half-hearted wave before turning and walking back inside, shutting the sliding door behind her with a soft thud. The sound was final, like a closing chapter on yet another round of their ongoing battle.

Inside her house, Bluma sank into the couch, her heart racing with excitement. She knew this would rile Bron up, but she also knew he wouldn’t let it slide. And that was exactly what she wanted. The back-and-forth of their little game had become something of a sport to her. It wasn’t just about the pranks anymore, it was about outsmarting him, about staying one step ahead.

Bron’s next move, she knew, would be big. He would have to come up with something equally clever or ridiculous to get back at her, and she was already bracing herself for whatever he had in store.

Meanwhile, in his backyard, Bron stood still for a moment, fuming. His hands clenched into fists, and his chest heaved with a mix of anger and disbelief. How dare she mess with his things like this? How could she make his backyard look like some sort of circus?

But then, as the initial wave of frustration began to subside, his mind started to work. He paced back and forth, his thoughts racing. He needed something that would show Bluma just how serious he was. He needed a plan, a way to put her in her place once and for all.

Bron had never been one to back down from a challenge, and this rivalry with Bluma was no different. It was time for him to hit back. And when he did, he would make sure she knew exactly who she was dealing with. The stage was set for the next round, and neither of them had any intention of backing down.

As Bron stood in the middle of his backyard, plotting his revenge, Bluma leaned back on her couch, her smile wide. The game was far from over.

⸻ April 20, 2024

Bluma and Bron’s feud had evolved in ways neither of them could have anticipated. What had started as a simple, somewhat playful rivalry, with harmless pranks and minor annoyances, had spiraled into something more.

Each day seemed to push the boundaries a little further, and what was once fun and lighthearted had turned into an all-out war, one that neither of them was willing to concede.

It had been two months since the first prank. A simple, but effective, music complaint, and in that time, Bluma had become somewhat of an expert in the art of retaliation. She had learned the subtle art of escalation, always keeping Bron on his toes, always making sure that whatever he did, she was a step ahead.

Bron, for his part, had become just as determined, if not more so, to get back at Bluma for the pranks she had pulled on him. But today, Bluma had planned something that would get under his skin.

The sun hung lazily in the sky, the late morning warmth filling the air as Bluma prepared her latest prank. She had spent the night before, carefully concealing her tools of mischief. Prank golf balls, the kind that exploded in a burst of colorful confetti. They were harmless, but they were loud, and they were going to get a rise out of Bron. The balls were a perfect next move in their ongoing battle.

The plan was simple: launch the balls into his yard from her side of the fence, watch the chaos unfold, and enjoy the show. But of course, there was one small wrinkle she hadn’t anticipated: Bron was getting more unpredictable by the day.

She stood on her patio, her golf club in hand, the small bag of explosive golf balls clutched tightly under her arm. She had just finished getting everything ready and was now awaiting the perfect moment to strike. Bluma knew that she couldn’t wait too long; the tension in the air was palpable, and she could feel Bron’s wrath coming for her.

It had only been a matter of time before he decided to retaliate with something as childish and frustrating as this. But she wasn’t worried. She had learned how to outwit him, how to push his buttons without going too far. She just had to be ready when the right opportunity arose.

And sure enough, it didn’t take long before Bron made his next move.

He had taped balloons to the tires of her car, so that when she backed out of the driveway, they would pop, causing a loud, unexpected noise. The thought of him taking such pleasure in her frustration was enough to make Bluma’s blood boil.

The sound was deafening, and Bluma winced as it echoed in the stillness of the street. But what made her blood simmer was the laugh that followed. A laugh she knew all too well. It was Bron.

"Did you enjoy that, Bluma?" he shouted from across the yard, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bluma clenched her jaw. She could feel the heat rising in her chest as she remembered what he did as she stood in her backyard. It was time for the confetti golf balls.

She grabbed one of the balls, the edges of the small packaging catching her eye as she ripped it open, and without a second thought, she wound up and hurled it over the fence with all her strength. It soared through the air, a blur of white against the clear blue sky, before landing in Bron’s yard with a soft thud.

A second later, it exploded in a burst of colorful confetti, the small bits of paper flying in all directions.

Bron froze, his eyes widening in disbelief as the explosion rang out. His laughter stopped instantly, replaced by a look of pure frustration and anger. But before Bluma could even get a satisfying laugh out of it, she launched another one over the fence, the ball hurtling toward his backyard.

The confetti rained down like snow, and the sound of each explosion made her heart race with glee. This was exactly what she had been waiting for. But the sounds of laughter from his two friends, Joshua and Jon, who were sitting on his patio watching the spectacle unfold, told him that it wasn’t just Bluma enjoying the prank. The two of them were laughing so hard that their faces were turning red.

The fact that they were enjoying this particular prank only added fuel to the fire. Bron’s reaction was becoming exactly what they had hoped for, and as each ball exploded in a shower of confetti, they only laughed harder.

Bron’s face was turning a deep shade of red as he stormed toward the fence, his fists clenched at his sides.

Then, just as Bluma launched another golf ball into the air, she heard a loud shout from Bron. He had finally lost it.

"Bluma!" he bellowed, his voice a combination of rage and disbelief. He was standing just on the other side of the fence now, hands outstretched as if trying to physically reach through the wood and grab her. "That’s it. I’ve had enough of this crap!"

Bluma’s heart raced. There was something in his voice that sent a shiver up her spine. He was really angry this time. But before she could respond or take a step back, Bron did something she hadn’t expected.

Without warning, he launched himself over the fence, his legs propelling him upwards as he vaulted onto the wood.

Bluma let out a startled scream, dropping the golf club in a panic as she jumped back. She wasn’t expecting him to come over.

“Bron, no!” she shouted, but it was too late. He was already in her yard, storming toward her, his fists clenched at his sides, his face a mask of rage. Bluma instinctively grabbed for the golf club again, raising it as though it were some kind of weapon to defend herself. She had no idea what he was capable of right now.

Joshua and Jon, who had been sitting on the patio, immediately sprang to their feet, running toward the fence and jumping over. They got over the fence just in time to grab him, pulling him away from Bluma before he could get any closer.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, uce!” Jon said, his voice calm but firm as he grabbed Bron by the shoulders and held him back. Joshua stood beside him, his hands on Bron’s arms, trying to steady the younger man before he did something he’d regret.

Bluma watched in shock as they dragged Bron away from her, his body tense and rigid as he struggled against them. It was the first time she had ever seen him so completely and utterly furious. It was as if the anger had taken over completely, leaving no room for the playful banter that had once characterized their relationship.

She dropped the golf club, her hands trembling slightly. The playful sense of victory she had felt earlier disappeared, replaced by an uncomfortable uncertainty. Had she gone too far? Maybe it was time for this ridiculous feud to end. But she wasn’t sure how to make that happen now.

Jon and Joshua managed to get Bron to the other side of the yard, where he stood seething, his breathing heavy and labored. His chest heaved with each breath, and the anger still radiated from him, but it was clear that the older men were trying to calm him down.

“What the hell, man?” Joshua asked, his voice low and concerned. “That was just a prank. You can’t let something like that get to you.”

Jon, too, was speaking in a measured tone. “Yeah, uce, what’s going on with you? You’ve been wound up for weeks. It’s just confetti. Nothing to get that upset over.”

Bron’s response was a low growl, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m just tired of this. Two months of this constant back and forth. I can’t take it anymore. It’s like we’re stuck in some stupid game, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”

Bluma stood quietly, listening to the exchange. The weight of Bron’s words hit her like a ton of bricks. She had never seen him this exhausted, this completely worn down by their rivalry. The realization struck her hard. This wasn’t just about pranks anymore. This was about something deeper, something neither of them had acknowledged.

Jon and Joshua exchanged a look, their expressions softening. They had seen this before. Both of them knew that Bron had been under a lot of pressure, juggling work, his personal life, and the constant stress of living next to Bluma.

“Come on, uce,” Jon said softly. “You need to let this go. This thing with Bluma—this is nothing. Just breathe, alright?”

Bron’s gaze flickered toward Bluma for a moment, and she met his eyes with a mixture of concern and understanding. For the first time in what felt like weeks, she realized that the playful rivalry between them had lost its fun. It wasn’t just a game anymore.

Sighing deeply, Bluma turned and walked toward her house, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. The sliding door closed softly behind her, and for the first time in a long time, she wondered if it was time to let go of the feud entirely. But she knew that, in the end, only time would tell whether that was possible.

⸻ May 20, 2024

The month of May had drawn to a close, and as the final days of the month dwindled, Bron found himself in a strange and unfamiliar place. One that he never imagined he would find himself in after the chaos that had unfolded between him and his neighbor, Bluma.

For the first time since their petty feud had taken a turn for the worse, he realized something that had been lingering at the back of his mind for weeks, something he couldn’t ignore: he missed her.

It had been nearly a month since Bluma had vanished from his life, her presence in the neighborhood conspicuously absent. No loud music, no pranks, no sardonic remarks from across the fence. The house next door seemed eerily quiet.

At first, Bron had enjoyed the silence. For two months, he had dealt with Bluma’s endless retaliation, her incessant pranks that had left him on edge, always waiting for the next little annoyance. It had been a battle, and in his mind, it had been one that he had won. At least, that was what he had told himself at the time.

But now, in the quiet of May, something felt off. The absence of Bluma’s antics left a void, a space that, for some reason, he couldn't ignore. He found himself glancing toward her house more often than he ever had before. He’d catch himself staring at the blank windows of her home, hoping to see a flicker of movement, a glimpse of her figure through the curtains. But there was nothing.

Bron wasn't sure what he was hoping for. Maybe he was looking for the familiar signs of life, her casual stroll in the yard, the sight of her lounging on her patio, or maybe even the faint sound of her voice calling out across the fence with some witty remark. But there was none of that. It was as if she had disappeared completely.

He couldn’t even remember when it had all started, this feeling of longing, this strange sense of emptiness that seemed to fill the void of his once chaotic and noisy life. At first, he chalked it up to the fact that their feud had simply run its course. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks bled into the long summer days ahead, he realized that something deeper was at play.

It wasn’t just the silence that unsettled him; it was the fact that he hadn’t seen Bluma. And it wasn’t that he missed the pranks or the tension that hung in the air whenever they shared a moment. He missed her, the person, and that realization felt like a punch to the gut.

Bron had never been one for introspection. He had avoided it at all costs. But this feeling, he couldn’t shake. It gnawed at him, and try as he might to focus on other things: work, training, his friends, he found his thoughts constantly drifting back to her. What was she doing? Was she hiding from him, or had she simply lost interest in their endless back-and-forth?

It wasn’t as though he was pining for her, exactly. Bron didn’t romanticize things, especially not his relationship with Bluma. They had started as neighbors, and what had begun as a series of innocent complaints had escalated into a ridiculous feud, full of pranks and petty moves.

He knew it. She knew it. Yet, there was something about the way she stood her ground. Her fiery spirit had always intrigued him. Strangely, Bluma had become a sort of constant in his life, a fixture that he couldn’t quite ignore. And now that she was gone, it left a hole that he hadn’t expected.

He was standing in his bedroom one evening, absently scrolling through his phone, when he found himself staring at the window. The view from his bedroom had always given him a perfect sightline into Bluma’s house.

From here, he could see the top of her driveway, the fence that separated their yards, and the curve of her backyard. The streetlights flickered on as the evening crept forward, casting long shadows across the quiet street.

He hadn’t heard a peep from Bluma in weeks. Not even a flicker of light from her windows at night. The absence of her laughter, her sarcastic quips, or the sounds of her moving about had created an unsettling emptiness in the air. Bron had always lived alone and enjoyed the solitude, but now it felt like something was missing.

He had told himself that it was good. That this silence meant peace. But as the days went by, he found himself looking out that window, scanning the perimeter of her house, his heart picking up its pace whenever he thought he saw a figure move behind the curtains. But each time, it was nothing.

There were moments like small, fleeting moments when he wondered if she had simply moved on. Perhaps she was tired of their games and had decided to let things go. Maybe she had found something else to occupy her time, some other way to keep herself entertained.

After all, her pranks had been a form of release, a way for her to take control of a situation that had grown increasingly frustrating. But now, as the neighborhood settled into a quiet rhythm, he couldn’t help but feel like something had been left unsaid, some unfinished business that still lingered in the air.

One evening, as the last vestiges of daylight faded and the sky turned a deep shade of indigo, Bron found himself standing at the fence again, staring at the stretch of wood that separated his backyard from hers. The fence had once been a boundary between them, a simple divider that marked the line between their worlds. But now, in the silence, it felt more like a wall, one that kept him away from the answers he needed.

He wasn’t sure what had made him do it, but before he even realized what he was doing, he reached down and grabbed a football from the pile that had long since collected dust in his garage. He hadn’t used it in weeks, and the sudden motion of his arm felt unfamiliar. There was something almost childlike about it, this compulsion to toss the ball over the fence. It wasn’t about starting a new prank, or even about reconnecting with Bluma. It was something simpler, a desperate attempt to break the silence, to invite her back into his world.

With a deep breath, he threw the football over the fence, watching it arc through the air and land softly in her yard.

He waited. The seconds ticked by slowly, stretching into what felt like an eternity. No sound. No movement. He couldn’t tell if she had even seen it land. But his heart raced all the same.

Another minute passed before he turned to walk back into his house, but just as he was about to step away from the fence, he heard it.

A soft sound, almost like the faintest rustling, followed by a voice.

"Really, Bron?"

It was her. Bluma.

He turned quickly, almost unable to believe it. There she was, standing just beyond the fence, her arms folded across her chest, her face a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. The same fire that had always been in her eyes was still there, but there was something different in the way she looked at him now. Something more subdued.

Bron didn’t know what to say. Part of him felt like this was his opportunity to finally break the silence, to confront whatever had been left unsaid between them. But another part of him, an unfamiliar part felt nervous, unsure of how to approach this sudden and unexpected moment.

Bluma raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to speak.

"Guess you’re not hiding anymore," Bron said, his voice more tentative than he had meant it to be.

Bluma didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she bent down to pick up the football, holding it for a moment as though weighing it in her hand. The weight of the silence between them seemed heavier now, as though this simple exchange was laden with a hundred unspoken words.

"I wasn’t hiding," Bluma finally said, her tone guarded. "Just... needed a break from all of this."

Bron watched her for a long moment, trying to read the expression on her face. She didn’t seem as angry as she once had, but there was a wariness in her eyes. Her posture was defensive, as though she wasn’t quite ready to let him in, but wasn’t entirely ready to push him away, either.

"Did you miss it?" Bron asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Bluma stared at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Maybe. A little."

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to make Bron’s heart pick up its pace again, enough to make him realize that maybe, just maybe, there was something more here than he had thought.

Bluma threw the football back over the fence, her throw powerful and direct, landing right at his feet. "No more pranks, okay?" she said, the edges of her voice softening.

Bron smiled slightly, a sense of relief washing over him. Maybe they weren’t done after all. "No more pranks," he agreed.

The tension in the air between them didn’t disappear completely, but in that brief moment, the silence that had filled the space between them for weeks didn’t feel quite so heavy. There was a sense of possibility in the air now, a shared understanding that, maybe, they could finally move past all the petty games.

As Bluma turned and walked back into her house, Bron stood at the fence for a long while, watching her go. The neighborhood was quiet again, but this time, it felt different like the calm before a storm that might bring something good for once.

Next: Love Thy Neighbor 2