#listen this might be a stupid thing to say and maybe it is

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You can do this. You know how. This isn't your first run-in with the Inquisition, and it's not going to be the last. Your hands are wet — you think of your children, of your reputation, of your man. But look at her — look at her, she's a child, she's a child too. The Inquisition is stealing children. Their children first, yes, witches' children, whoever the witches are now, but it never ends there, does it? And in the meantime here she is, here she is. Where you once were.

"Be quiet." Good Ecclesian girls aren't afraid of beadles or city watchmen or paladins. They don't quail from the amulets that purport to detect spiritual evil. Good Ecclesian girls exhale sparkles and sweat rosewater, they want to marry Inquisitors and give them ten babies, they want Inquisitors to like them more than anything in the world. You could fake that, once. You faked it to get here, didn't you?

But she doesn't have it in her. Kids don't know what you know: how to glide when you walk like you belong on these streets, how to look distracted and coquettish as a kirkmouse for public consumption, how to swallow every urge you have to say anything, do anything that might give you away. Kids think maybe now is a good time to grow up, maybe now is a good time to resist, little flowers fighting for sun in a wheelrut. They have to do it like that; there has not been invented another way to be a child.

And this is a child, and what a child — a child like you were, an almond-eyed little horned Azara. Ishkuzi, unlike you, or maybe a daughter of wildshade slaves from the Tavrida. In your day they disbudded children hoping to hide them; you remember the cold of that winter night, and the bitter anesthetic herbs, and the pain. Do they not do it anymore? Did she have no one to do it for her?

You remember why you had it done, though you were born too rich to need to. And then you tricked your father out of your mother's wedding ring and of his livelihood and of his soul; you ran away to marry a good Ecclesian boy, Isca, you stupid whore... (He had money, he had ships, so did the pirates, woe to you. We all do what we can for ourselves.)

Are her parents anti-assimilationists? Maybe her father is a sage, a dreadnought, maybe he's horned, like they should be, despite it all. Maybe she never knew they do this in cities. She looks country. She has wild-tiefling eyes, Ishkuzi eyes. She knows to be quiet, but not how to be quiet, not here. That's why she looks at you like that, already half betrayed.

But she listens. She lets you decide what to do for her, and what you decide is this: not here. She can't stay with you. She has to find somewhere they have no reason to come back to, and if Renzo's house on High Street in this beautiful city that is not, cannot be your city, was ever a place like that, it's not anymore.

Two female figures drift like unhurried black swans to the quay. You are a citizen, wife of a citizen, and this is your daughter, see? You slipped out the servants' door with her while your husband's footman spoke to the Inquisitors, yes, and you didn't know her until an hour ago, but now you are two respectable city ladies off to go and watch the ships come in. Perhaps one of them is yours? Yes, if one of them is yours then you must be an Ecclesian merchant goodwife who's taken in a dirty horned rat to save her soul. (You will be her intentionally and quietly and as hard as you can, now.)

There's a ship bound for somewhere-anywhere-not-here, one ship whose captain you can trust, and from there she can pawn your jewels until she's wherever she wants to be. Or not — mingle with the pirates, the dead know they don't care about horns or anything.

It's a risk, but the captain of that ship is a ducal family's retainer who used to look at you exactly like you look at her. He helped you once, for no reason but his kirkmouse sense of good, and it is an insane thing to ask in this climate but maybe it isn't, you know? You don't know what else to do. Even you in your townhouse are eating the same soup as your maids now, and everyone knows how expensive tickets out have become.

You can't keep her safe, but he can, and from there...

You had a fiancé once, who gave you his greatest treasure — a key to a house in Astiga, from before the Inquisition took root there. ("Someday we'll go home together.") He might know her by it, he might know she's yours now, he might take her in. Maybe he's gone on homecoming, maybe whoever flies the halfmoon flag over that land has let him be a dreadnought there, maybe he's not going to be there to see — you have no idea. You have no time to send letters and verify, and you're not sure the Postmen's Guild wouldn't open them anyway, whether you're a(n admittedly impoverished) contessa or not.

And then —

"Listen," you say to her, slipping the key to the old house around her neck on a length of twine from your chatelaine. "This is all I can do. Be brave, be cunning, don't listen to any man who promises you riches in the New World." That's an old lure for enslaving prostitutes. A country girl wouldn't know that.

"This key once opened a door to a house I was promised. The man who gave it to me will recognize it. If you ever chance to meet Hasdai Twoflower, show him."

She looks at you silent and wide-eyed as an owl. Behind you the regular watch carries on its business, but you can already see that she'll fight not to startle at the sound of hobnail boots and sabatons for a long time.

"Twoflower," she echoes.

"Yes."

Her eyes crinkle with amusement, despite it all. She doesn't know if she should believe you. Why?

"You know the Great Dreadnought in Ergetz?"

Is that where he is, now? Is that what he became? And you are a kirkgoing merchant's wife in a city that made you mutilate yourself to stay out of its ghetto, in the light, where the people are. You could have undone that, unmade the choice, at any time before you had little horned children, also mutilated, under your hand. You don't even remember how to pray, anymore. How to read. Still...

"I do." She has no recourse but to believe you. "I used to. It's a long story."

Ergetz. Not a true island but a demiplane in the Avid North, called into being by wild shades and the secret lore of your mothers and the mystic arithmetic known to dreadnoughts. They keep trying to find it, trying to invade it, wondering if there's anyplace to put a colony — you were not even sure until now that it really existed.

It may be that he helped it come to exist. It's too late for you now, anyways, but if that's so, then maybe your key is an amulet, and maybe it will see someone to some home somewhere. Not that one, not you. This child. You don't even know her name.

The ship (you don't recall her name either) pulls into port. You make your arrangement; they'll hide her until they go, and she's for Ergetz if they can find it, Vasco and his crew of oars for hire, and if they can't, then they owe it to you to find someplace else. Someplace else that is free, is safe, that will find the girl a husband. What else can you do?

You want to turn and go home, but — "Wait," she says, that little girl in your daughter's veil, in your dead daughter's veil, who died of the ash plague, which your kind are not supposed to get, seven years ago. "How shall I pray for you?"

What a hell of a question. Do you deserve prayer? "My name is Isolda," you begin to say, and she looks at you like a liar, a liar, you know? So you have to admit it. "Isca, Leia's daughter."

"Dolça, Isca's daughter," she says, before she turns to go. You can't tell if this is an endorsement of you or if her mother is your namesake, someone you could have been if you hadn't been what you are. You'll never know. It's time.

"It was good to know you. Next year in the Twilit City."

You never help another one — the soul could not survive it, but also they just do not fall into noblewomen's lives that often.

You never see her again.

This time next year, you are still in this city, not in that one, and your oldest son leaves home to become an Inquisitor. You wave your handkerchief from the balcony, like any good woman would.

All other available moves have been made. There's nothing else you can do.

Not now, not anymore.

"P-please. Don't let them take me…" A witch, a young girl pleaded as she hides in your shed. You see the fear in her eyes as you hear the armored footsteps of the inquisition approached your home. Your heart thumps. They don't take heretics lightly nor one that shields them from their hold.

[alwaysobsessed777]

Anything Juju Watkins, she’s seriously underrated 🙏🏻

FOREVER YOURS - J.W.

First juju fic....kinda scared....but let me know if I should keep writing for her

"Juju...i already told you," I could feel my frustration bubbling up. Catching her in the act of kissing another girl was not on my bingo card of the year. "It's a no. I don't care what you have to say, we're done."

"baby....please...its not what it looked like," following like a lost puppy, Juju begged. I couldn't care less in the moment.

Her hand wraps around my wrist, trying to stop me from walking further away. I stopped, looking down at the contact. The calmness of her tone, it further the irritation that was brewing.

I ripped my arm from her grip, "I said I don't want to hear what you have to say. Leave me the f-"

"Y/n....calm down...okay."

"No! If you weren't sucking someone's else face...i wouldn't be acting like this!" I spun around, our eyes meeting. The hurt in her eyes made me want to calm down, but nothing was stopping the hurt that I felt. "I really thought I could trust you...and you walked all over me. My trust...my ego...my love for you. I just need some space...please."

Tears swelled in my eyes. Juju's seemed to mirror. "Okay. I can give you space," she looked down, wiping her eyes before looking back at me, "I love you."

I nod. I had nothing else to say. My legs turned me around, walking me out of the packed party. The party, that if I stayed would have burned something within me, was for the women's team defeating the undefeated UCLA. Maybe she got too cocky. But that cockiness just ruined our whole relationship.

2 weeks later....

It's been hard. I missed her more than I would like to admit. Her sarcasm used to fill the awkward moments with friends. Her jokes flowing in conversation resulting in fits of laughter. Then, her presence. It was grounding, calming, and I needed all of that in my life. But Juju was that....and she wasn't here.

I struggled to pull myself out of bed, groaning with the motion. Hating myself and the world had become a more common thing for me these days. I hated myself for not listening to the girl cause what if she really hadn't done anything. Maybe I jumped to conclusions, maybe I was a jerk, maybe I was the one who didn't deserve her. Not the other way around.

Throwing on whatever was near, I made my way out of the sloppy dorm room. Opening the door, to my surprise, I was welcomed with many holding flowers.

"uh...excuse me," he looked down at the small paper attached to the bouquet of roses, "Y/n? These are for you."

"I think you might have the wrong y/n. Nobody is gonna send me anything," I closed my door, locking before turning back around to face the guy.

"Y/n l/n....from Juju Watkins? Does that sound right?"

Shock washed over me. Why would Juju send me flowers? "Um...yeah...yeah that sounds right."

"well," he held them out, "here you go. Have a nice day, ma'am."

"than-thank you." I stood there, flowers in hand, dumbfounded. I couldn't piece together why, the woman I yelled at and refused to say 'i love you' back too, would send flowers to me.

Quickly, I read the small note attached to the stem. Hoping that it would tell me why she would.

'I know your probably not happy with me...but I wanted to send you flowers (even tho Valentine's day was a little while ago...) for V' day. I would never not get you something....but I figured it would have been stupid to send something right after everything went down. Just know, I'm sorry that what happened happened. I'm always ready to talk whenever you are. I love you too much to not wait. Love, Juju'

"it's not too much is it?" Her voice rang through my ears, my head snapping up to meet the girl I've been missing tremendously.

Juju.

Sniffling, I pulled her into a tight embrace, "I've missed you so much." The words mumbled into my shoulder. Her arms tighten their hold on around me, pulling me impossibly closer.

"I've missed you too," a broken chuckle fell from my lips, "even if I don't necessarily like you right now."

Juju's body tensed, "can we talk about...what happened, please?"

I nodded, escaping her hold to unlock the door. Opening it, I step in allowing Juju to follow.

"I'm so sorry you saw me kiss another girl....but I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. I was drunk...she was drunk....she thought I was into her....so she took her shot. I pushed her off of me, but she latched back on as you walked in. I wish I could've been able to stop you from seeing it. I would have told you what happened....i just wish everything would have went down another way. I'm sorry baby." Juju was almost begging for forgiveness. Her words sinking in, my brain deciding whether to trust her or not. Something in the way she let everything just crash through whatever dam was holding it in convinced me, convinced me that she was telling the truth.

"okay."

"okay?"

"I accept your apology and now I want kisses to make up for it," I held my arms out, hoping the girl would just go with it. To my liking, she did.

"God I've wanted to kiss you for weeks," a smirk settled on her lips, well, before her lips crashed onto mine.

My arms snaked around her neck as her hands fell to my waist. Her grip tight and dominant, almost like she would never let me go. Our lips moved against each other like they were made to be kissed by the other. A feeling of familiarity settled within me. Thoughts seemed to not form properly, other than one thought. We were meant to be, and nothing was going to get in the way of that again.

Once we were both on the verge of not breathing, we broke apart. Smiles stretched across both of our faces as the realization set in.

"I love you more than anything," I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder. Juju's arms pulling me into a hug, the warmth of her embrace calming me. The grounding feeling I had been missing not even an hour ago.

"I love you too, Y/n. More than my own life," the words seemed to effect me more than they had ever before. I felt like she truly meant it.

Nothing would ever break my trust in her again.

------------

A/n : ha...ha....if this is trash, let me know and I won't ever write for juju again.

But if y'all like....let me know and I'll definitely write for her again.

(I'm truly in love with this woman....shes another one of my wives.)

[nameless-jamie]

Hello, I love your PA series! Can I request a story where PA is on a plane with no wifi and Jamie's with the team at a party and celebrates too hard which makes him drunk call her a couple of times leaving her tons of embarrassing messages to listen to after she lands and it's all about how he misses her and how she should be here and not away from him and just being a pining mess 🤭🤭🤭 thanks 💜💜💜

Drunk Calls, Sober Thoughts

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Ok finally the slow-burn is coming to an end! They confessed!!!!!!!!!! Let's see how it goes between them.

TW: cursing, drunk Jamie

It had been three days since their kiss.

A real kiss. Not an accident. Not some flirty moment they could brush off. Not another near miss where one of them pulled away before it could mean something. No, this was the kind of kiss that settled things. That left no more space for pretending. That confirmed what they had both known for months but had been too stubborn—or too scared—to say out loud.

And yet, they hadn’t talked about it.

Not properly, anyway.

Maybe it was because they were both still figuring out what it meant beyond the obvious. Maybe it was because neither of them wanted to ruin the unspoken magic of it by overanalyzing. Maybe it was because they were both terrified of hearing the other say something that might change everything.

And then Y/N had to leave. Not by choice.

It wasn’t dramatic—just a weekend trip. Rebecca had sent her, because the club was organizing a big preseason charity match in Italy, one of those fancy, and since Y/N was Jamie’s PA, she had to go ahead of the team to finalize travel details, hotel arrangements, media schedules, and all the other logistical nightmares that came with organizing a high-profile event. She had groaned about it, dragging her suitcase down the hallway of her apartment the night before, grumbling about hating flights with no WiFi and being too tired to socialize.

Jamie had hated it. Not that he’d said that, of course. He had just sulked as he carried her bags to the Uber and grumbled something about how “I don’t see why I couldn’t just come with ya. Ain’t like I’d be in the way.” She had laughed, rolled her eyes, and promised she’d be back in a few days.

Before she left, though he made some stupid joke about how she should “at least bring me back some of that proper Italian gelato, yeah?” to lighten the mood. But something about the way he stood there as she pulled away had lingered with her.

Like he totally hadn’t wanted her to go.

Like he had something else he wanted to say but didn’t.

She had tried not to think about that too much during the flight.

She failed.

That had been two days ago.

And Jamie Tartt?

Jamie Tartt was not okay.

He had told himself he would be. He had gone to training, gone to the gym, kept himself busy. He had filled his schedule, just like he always did when something was sitting too heavy in his chest. But then the team had a night off, and the lads decided to go out, and Jamie thought, Yeah, that’ll help.

Spoiler: It did not help.

It was the lads idea to drag him out to some fancy club in London, insisting he needed to “stop brooding like a lovesick teenager” (Isaac’s words, not his).

It was loud. The bass from the speakers made the floor vibrate, the air smelled like expensive perfume and spilled cocktails, and normally, Jamie would be in his element.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was five drinks in, slouched in the booth like a man in mourning, ignoring the girls who kept trying to make eye contact with him across the room.

Not in an obvious way.

To everyone else, Jamie Tartt looked fine. He was sitting in a booth with the team, half-listening to whatever joke Dani was telling, nodding along to Isaac’s commentary about something on his phone, watching Colin get dragged to the dance floor by some boy.

But inside?

Inside, Jamie was fucking miserable.

Because Y/N wasn’t there.

And yeah, she had been gone for less than two days, and yeah, he had spent longer stretches of time without seeing her before. But this time was different. This time, she had kissed him. This time, they weren’t just coworkers who flirted too much. This time, he knew what it felt like to have her lips on his, and now she was far away on a plane, unreachable, and he hated every fucking second of it.

Sam nudged him. “You’re being weird.”

“I ain’t being weird,” Jamie muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

“You are,” Isaac confirmed. “You’ve had that same miserable look on your face all night.”

Jamie exhaled heavily, slumping further.

Colin raised an eyebrow. “You gonna admit you miss her, or should we just wait for you to drink another shot and start sobbing about it?”

Jamie scowled. “I ain’t sobbing.”

But even as he said it, his hand was already reaching for his phone.

“You look like a man who’s about to do something stupid,” Sam observed, watching Jamie fumble with his phone.

“Gonna call her,” Jamie announced.

“Oh, this should be good,” Dani grinned, watching him unlock it.

“She’s on a plane,” Isaac reminded him. “No WiFi.”

Jamie squinted at the screen. “It’ll still ring.”

“It won’t,” Colin said, shaking his head. “It’ll go to voicemail.”

“Good,” Jamie huffed. “I got shit to say.”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good,” Dani grinned, nudging Sam.

Jamie hit call.

The line rang once, then—predictably—went straight to voicemail. The second the beep sounded, Jamie started talking.

“Oi. Where the fuck are you? Oh. Wait. You’re on the plane. Right. Anyway—listen. I don’t like this. You being gone. I don’t like it. This club’s shit without you. Actually, no—everything is shit without you. Call me when you land.”

Isaac groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

Jamie hung up.

Then frowned.

Then dialed again.

Straight to voicemail.

“I mean, you don’t have to call me. But you should. ‘Cause, like… what if you never come back? What if you get offered a better job? What if some posh Italian twat sweeps you off your feet? What if—wait, no, you’d never leave me. Would you?”

Sam groaned. “Oh my God.”

Dani gasped dramatically. “AY DIOS MIO.”

Colin looked at Isaac. “Should we stop him?”

Isaac shrugged. “Nah, let him embarrass himself.”

Jamie ignored them and called again.

“I kissed you. Well, we kissed each other. And I dunno what we’re doin’ now, but I keep thinkin’ about it, and it’s annoying, ‘cause I can’t do anythin’ about it while you’re fuckin’ gone, and—Fuckin' hell. I think I love you.”

Isaac and Colin looked at each other.

“Oh, he’s definitely a goner.”

Y/N landed at Heathrow the next early morning, running on two hours of sleep and an overpriced airport coffee that did nothing to make her feel awake. She was exhausted, her body aching from the cramped plane seat, her mind already spinning with everything she needed to do once she got home.

But then she turned off airplane mode.

Her phone buzzed violently in her hand, a flood of notifications appearing all at once. Emails, texts, flight alerts—normal things. And then, right at the top of the screen:

Jamie Tartt (7) [Voicemails]

Her stomach flipped.

She shouldn’t listen to them here. Should wait until she was home, somewhere private, somewhere she could think—

But her finger was already tapping the first one.

The second she heard Jamie’s voice, her chest tightened.

"Oi. Where the fuck are you? Oh. Right. You’re on the plane. Right. Anyway—listen. I don’t like this. You being gone. I don’t like it. This club’s shit without you. Actually, no—everything is shit without you. Call me when you land.”

She inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. Dumbass.

She hit play on the next one.

"I mean, you don’t have to call me. But you should. ‘Cause, like… what if you never come back?..."

A warmth spread through her, creeping up her neck, curling in her stomach.

The next message played automatically.

“I kissed you. Well, we kissed each other. And I dunno what we’re doin’ now, but I keep thinkin’ about it, and it’s annoying, ‘cause I can’t do anythin’ about it while you’re fuckin’ gone, and—fuckin' hell. I think I love you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

A crackly, muffled sound came through the speaker—someone gasping dramatically, followed by a distant voice laughing, “Did he just say he loves her?”

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the phone tighter.

The airport disappeared around her. The voices, the announcements, the rolling suitcases—it all blurred into nothing. The only thing she could hear was Jamie, drunk and emotional, pouring his heart out in a way he never had before.

I think I love you.

Had he meant it?

He had to be drunk. He was drunk. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. If anything, the fact that he had said it while he was drunk—when his guard was completely down, when he wasn’t overthinking or trying to be cool—made it feel even more real.

Her heart pounded as she played the last voicemail.

"You’re gonna listen to all these in the morning and laugh at me, aren’t ya? ‘Cause you think I’m a dumbass. And I am. But I don’t care. I miss you, and I don’t wanna pretend like I don’t. I just… wish you were here. That’s all."

By the time the message ended, Y/N was already in a cab on the way to his house.

Jamie was still half-drunk when she found him, sprawled out on his bed, one foot dangling off the edge, his shirt nowhere in sight, and the blankets twisted around him like he had fought them in his sleep—and lost. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, his lips slightly parted as he stirred at the sound of her footsteps.

His head lolled to the side, bleary eyes blinking up at her.

“Am I dreamin’?” His voice was thick, slow, coated in sleep and leftover alcohol.

Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, resting a hand lightly on his chest. “No, Jamie.”

His brows furrowed, his eyes tracking over her face like he needed to make sure she was real.

“You’re here,” he murmured.

“I am.”

His lips curved, lazy and lopsided. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re so pretty. I forgot how pretty you are.”

Y/N huffed out a laugh. “You saw me three days ago.”

“Yeah, but three days is forever,” he whined, voice raspy and rough, like he’d been talking about her all night. Which, to be fair, he had. His fingers clumsily reached for her, tracing along the hem of her sleeve, barely touching, like he was still convincing himself she was real.

“I missed you,” he admitted, softer this time, more serious.

Her heart clenched.

“I know,” she said gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You told me. Seven times.”

Jamie blinked, trying to process her words. Then his face contorted in horror. “You—”

“I heard the voicemails.”

His groan was immediate, deep, like it physically pained him. “Oh, fuck.” He threw an arm over his face, muffling another groan into his bicep. “That’s so bad.”

Y/N pried his hand away, forcing him to look at her. His skin was warm, flushed from the alcohol, his eyes glassy and full of something unreadable.

“Jamie.”

He blinked at her, lips parting slightly.

“Did you mean it?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of clarity crossed his face. His throat bobbed, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against the sheet.

Then—so softly she almost didn’t hear it—he said, “Every word.”

A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped her lips.

And just like that, it was done. The waiting. The wondering. The endless push and pull.

Jamie reached for her, his touch warm and clumsy, trailing up her arm like he was trying to memorize her. “You smell nice,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “Like—like that vanilla stuff. I love it. I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Jamie blinked at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still so open, so full of that raw, unfiltered honesty that only seemed to slip out when he was too drunk to hold it in.

“You love me?” she whispered.

He hummed, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, nuzzling against her like a sleepy cat. “Yeah. Thought I was bein’ obvious, but you’re all stubborn and shit.” His fingers found her waist, rubbing small, lazy circles against her hip. “But I’ll say it again if you want. I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Y/N laughed softly, threading her fingers through his hair, feeling the way he melted under her touch.

She climbed into bed beside him, and he immediately pulled her into his arms, wrapping around her like he never planned on letting go. His lips brushed against her temple, his breath warm and steady.

“You’re not allowed to leave again,” he mumbled sleepily. “Not even for work. I’ll sack myself. Don’t care.”

Y/N smiled against his skin, heart impossibly full.

“Okay, Jamie.”

[vampseasoned]

𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦: 𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗻𝘀 𝘅 𝗥𝗵𝗲𝗮 𝗥𝗶𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝘅 𝗝𝗲𝘆 𝘂𝘀𝗼

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,776

Chapter three ; you won't believe this false hope

Jey pov:

I've been watching Rhea and Roman's relationship dynamic with a mix of fascination and concern. As Rhea's best friend, I've seen her go through a lot, but this... this is different. There's something about Roman that draws her in, something that makes her want to stay despite the obvious red flags.

I remember the first time Rhea told me about Roman's controlling behavior. She brushed it off as "caring" and "protective," but I knew better. I've seen the way he looks at her, the way he talks to her. It's like he's trying to own her, to keep her trapped in this bubble of his making.

But Rhea's not stupid. She's strong, smart, and capable. So why is she still with him?

I've tried talking to her about it, but she just gets defensive. She says I don't understand, that Roman loves her in his own way. And maybe that's true. But love shouldn't feel like a prison sentence, should it?

I've been keeping a close eye on their relationship, making sure Rhea knows I'm always here for her. But Roman's getting more and more agitated. He doesn't like that I'm around, that I'm a influence in Rhea's life.

One night, I saw him yelling at her in the parking lot. I didn't intervene, knowing that would only make things worse. But I could see the fear in Rhea's eyes, the way she cowered under his angry words.

After that, I knew I had to do something. I started discreetly digging into Roman's past, looking for any dirt that might help Rhea see the truth. And what I found...

Let's just say Roman's not who he says he is.

I'll have to tread carefully, though. If Roman finds out I'm snooping around, he'll stop at nothing to silence me. But I won't back down. I'll do whatever it takes to protect Rhea, to help her see that she deserves so much better.

I gathered all the evidence I could find and carefully planned my approach. I knew Rhea wouldn't take it well at first, but I had to try. She deserved to know the truth about Roman.

I waited until we were alone at my place, just the two of us, before bringing it up. We were lounging on the couch, binge-watching our favorite TV show, when I casually mentioned Roman's name.

"Hey, Rhea? Can I talk to you about something?"

She looked at me warily, sensing something was off. "What is it, Jey?"

I took a deep breath and dove in. "I've been doing some research on Roman. And let's just say I found some... interesting things."

Rhea's expression turned defensive, just as I expected. "What are you talking about, Jeys? You're just being paranoid."

"Roman's not who he says he is, Rhea," I said gently but firmly. "He's been lying to you about his past, about his family, about everything."

Rhea laughed, a hard, bitter sound. "You don't know what you're talking about, Jey. Roman would never lie to me."

I pulled out my phone and showed her the evidence I'd gathered. Articles, police reports, witness statements – it was all there, in black and white.

Rhea's face went pale as she scrolled through the documents. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of doubt.

But then, her expression hardened. "This is all just a coincidence, Jeys. You're just trying to ruin my relationship because you don't like Roman."

I sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. Why couldn't she see the truth?

"Rhea, listen to me," I said, taking her hands in mine. "I'm not trying to ruin your relationship. I'm trying to save you from him. He's controlling, manipulative, and dangerous. You deserve so much better than that."

Rhea yanked her hands away, her eyes flashing with anger. "You don't understand, Jey. Roman loves me. He would never hurt me."

"I hope you're right, Rhea," I said, my heart heavy with concern. "But if you're wrong... if he hurts you... I'll be here, waiting to help you pick up the pieces."

Rhea glared at me, her face twisted in a mix of fear and determination. "I don't need your help, Jey. I can take care of myself."

I nodded, feeling a sense of unease. I knew Rhea was stubborn, but this was different. This was about her safety, her well-being.

As she stormed out of my apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just lost my best friend to the clutches of a monster.

Rhea's POV

I stormed out of Jey's apartment, feeling angry and frustrated. How could he do this to me? How could he try to ruin my relationship with Roman?

I knew Jey didn't like Roman, but this was taking it too far. He was trying to control me, to tell me what to do, just like Roman said he would.

I walked home, my mind racing with emotions. Part of me was angry with Jey for interfering, but another part was scared. What if he was right? What if Roman was lying to me?

I pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the love and care Roman had shown me. He was the first person to really understand me, to really get me.

When I got home, Roman was waiting for me, concern etched on his face. "Hey, what's wrong? You look upset."

I told him everything, leaving out no details. Roman listened attentively, his expression growing darker with each passing moment.

When I finished, he took my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Rhea, I'm so sorry. I had no idea Jey was doing this to you."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Roman was on my side, not Jey.

"What am I going to do, Roman?" I asked, feeling lost and scared.

Roman's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "We'll take care of Jey, don't worry. He won't bother you again."

I nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Roman. He was protecting me, looking out for me.

But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something there that made me pause. A glint of anger, of possessiveness.

And for a moment, I wondered if Jey was right.

As we walked into the arena in Philly, I could feel the energy coursing through my veins. Roman was pumped up, his eyes blazing with determination.

But before the arena opened, Roman pulled me aside, his hand on my arm. "Wait here for a minute, I need to take care of something."

I nodded, watching as Roman walked over to Jey, who was standing by the ring, stretching his arms.

Their conversation was brief, but intense. Roman's face was red, his jaw clenched, and Jey looked like he was refusing to back down.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Roman walked back to me, his eyes glinting with a fierce light.

"What was that about?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Roman's smile was tight, his lips pressed together. "Just a little wager, Rhea. Jey and I are going to have a match tonight. If I win, he has to stay away from you. And if he wins..."

Roman's voice trailed off, and I felt a sense of unease growing inside me.

"If he wins, then what?" I pressed, my heart pounding in my chest.

Roman's eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, I saw something there that made my blood run cold.

"If Jey wins, then I'll tell you the truth about my past," Roman said, his voice low and husky. "But I won't lose, Rhea. I won't lose."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. What was Roman hiding from me? What secrets was he keeping?

As we entered the arena, the crowd erupted into cheers, but I was too stunned to react. I was trapped in a world of uncertainty, with Roman's secrets looming over me like a dark cloud.

The match began, and I watched in a daze as Roman and Jey faced off in the ring. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and chanting, but I was frozen, my eyes fixed on Roman's face.

What would happen if Jey won? What secrets would Roman reveal?

And what if Roman won? Would he really keep me trapped in his web of lies?

The outcome of the match was far from certain, but one thing was clear: only one of them would emerge victorious. And I was trapped in the middle, torn between the two men in my life.

---

The bell rang, and the match began. Roman and Jey faced off in the ring, their eyes locked in a fierce stare. The crowd was electric, chanting and cheering as the two men circled each other. I watched in awe as they exchanged blows, their movements quick and precise. Jey was giving Roman a run for his money, but Roman was determined to win.

As the match wore on, I found myself on the edge of my seat, my heart pounding in my chest. Michael Cole, the commentator, was shouting in my ear, "It's anyone's game, folks! These two are giving it their all!"

Suddenly, Jey landed a series of rapid-fire punches, sending Roman crashing to the mat. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jey climbed to the top rope, his eyes fixed on Roman.

"Here comes the finisher!" Michael Cole shouted, his voice hoarse from yelling.

Jey launched himself off the top rope, landing a picture-perfect 450 splash. The crowd exploded, and I was on my feet, screaming along with them.

Roman kicked out at the last second, but Jey wasn't deterred. He hooked Roman's leg, and the referee counted to three.

"It's all over, folks!" Michael Cole screamed. "Jey has won the match!"

I was stunned. Jey had actually done it. He'd beaten Roman in the ring.

As Jey celebrated his victory, he made his way over to me, a sly smile spreading across his face. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I told you I'd do it, Rhea," he whispered, his voice husky.

And then, he kissed me. The crowd erupted into cheers, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

But before I could process what was happening, Roman stormed over, his face twisted with rage. He grabbed Jey, slamming him against the ropes.

"You think you've won, Jey?" Roman snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think you've beaten me?"

The referees came running out, trying to break up the fight. But Roman and Jey were beyond reason, their anger and adrenaline fueling their brawl.

Finally, the referees managed to pry them apart, holding them back as they shouted and snarled at each other.

The crowd was on its feet, chanting and cheering, but I was frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. What would happen next? Would Roman finally tell me the truth about his past?

And what did Jey's victory mean for our complicated web of relationships?

As the referees dragged Roman and Jey out of the ring, I was left standing alone, my mind reeling with questions.

I walked backstage, my mind reeling with thoughts and emotions. What had just happened out there? Why had Jey kissed me? And what was Roman going to do now that he'd lost the match?

I felt like I was trapped in a whirlwind, with no idea what was coming next. My heart was racing, and my mind was spinning with questions.

As I turned a corner, I almost collided with Jackie, the journalist. She was always snooping around, looking for a scoop, and I knew she'd be all over this story like a vulture.

"Rhea, what happened out there?" Jackie asked, her eyes snapping with excitement. "What was going on between you and Jey?"

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I didn't want to fuel the gossip mill, but I also didn't want to lie.

"It was just a celebratory kiss," I said finally, trying to downplay the situation. "Jey was just excited about his win."

Jackie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Save it, Rhea. I've been watching you two, and I know there's more to it than that. What's going on between you and Jey?"

I sighed, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. Why couldn't people just leave me alone?

"Look, Jackie, I don't know what you're trying to dig up, but there's nothing going on between me and Jey. Roman and I are still together, and I'm happy with him."

Jackie's face fell, but only for a moment. Then, her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

"Well, I'm sure Roman will be thrilled to hear about that kiss," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll make sure to get that quote in my next article."

I rolled my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. Why did Jackie always have to stir up drama?

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm. "I'm sure Roman will just love reading about this in the tabloids."

Jackie grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, someone's got to keep the drama alive, Rhea. And right now, you're the queen of drama."

I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I walked away. Why did I always get stuck in these situations.

As I disappeared into the backstage area, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a very long, very complicated night.

Roman's pov:

I stormed into my locker room, slamming the door shut behind me. That match had been a disaster. I couldn't believe I'd let Jey get the better of me.

I needed to get my mind off it, to clear my head and refocus. A shower was just what I needed.

I stripped off my gear and stepped under the hot water, letting out a deep breath as the tension began to melt away.

As I dressed and towelled off, I felt a little better. But my mind was still racing, still replaying the match and all the what-ifs.

I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off things. And then I remembered the old photos I kept locked in my phone.

I pulled out my phone and began to scroll through the photos, nostalgia washing over me. There were pictures of my family, of my old life before the wrestling world.

As I scrolled through the photos, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. This was what I needed, a reminder of where I came from and what I'd overcome.

But then, I heard the sound of the door opening, and I looked up to see Rhea standing in the doorway, her eyes locked on mine.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the tension between us palpable. I could see the questions in her eyes, the doubts and the fears.

And I knew that I had to tell her the truth. I had to tell her everything.

I saw the questions in Rhea's eyes, the doubts and fears that Jey's victory had stirred up. But I knew that I had to reassure her, to make her see that everything was going to be okay.

I walked over to her, my eyes locked on hers, and gently cupped her face in my hands. I could feel the tension in her body, the uncertainty that was eating away at her.

But I knew just what to do to calm her down.

I softly kissed her forehead, my lips brushing against her skin in a gentle, soothing motion. I felt her relax, her body sagging into mine as she let out a deep breath.

"Sit down, Rhea," I whispered, my voice low and husky. "Let me get dressed, and then we'll talk about everything that's going on."Rhea nodded, her eyes still locked on mine, and I guided her over to the bench in the locker room. She sat down, her eyes never leaving mine, and I could see the trust in her gaze.

I smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I knew that I had to be honest with her, to tell her everything. But for now, I just wanted to take care of her, to make her feel safe and loved.

I turned to get dressed, my movements quick and efficient as I pulled on my clothes. Rhea watched me, her eyes following my every move, and I could sense her emotions, her uncertainty and her fear.

But I knew that I could make it all better. I knew that I could make her feel safe again, that I could make her trust me.

And as I turned back to her, my heart pounding in my chest, I knew that I was ready to do whatever it took to make her happy.

I finished getting dressed and turned back to Rhea, who was still sitting on the bench, her eyes fixed on me.

"Roman, I need to know the truth," she said, her voice firm but her eyes pleading.

I hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt. I knew I should tell her everything, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Rhea, I promise you, everything will be okay," I said, trying to placate her. "Let's just focus on us, on our relationship. We can work through anything as long as we're together."

Rhea looked at me, her eyes searching for the truth. And then, she seemed to make a decision.

"I need some time to think," she said, grabbing her things and standing up.

I felt a surge of panic, realizing that I'd said the wrong thing.

"Rhea, wait," I said, reaching out to her.

But she was already gone, storming out of the locker room without looking back.

I was left standing there, feeling stunned and guilty. I knew I'd made a mistake, and now I was going to have to pay the price.

Just then, the door swung open again, and Jey walked in.

"Hey, is Rhea in here?" he asked, looking around the locker room.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of unease. "No, she just left."

Jey's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to sense the tension in the air.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice neutral.

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. But then, I heard the sound of Rhea's footsteps, growing fainter as she walked away from the locker room.

"Nothing," I lied, feeling a sense of desperation wash over me.

Jey looked at me, his eyes piercing. And for a moment, I thought he saw right through me, that he knew I was hiding something.

But then, he turned and walked out of the locker room, leaving me alone to wonder what I'd just done.

Jey's pov:

I walked out of Roman's locker room, feeling a sense of unease. Something was off, and I could tell that Rhea was upset.

I quickened my pace, trying to catch up with her. I could see her ahead of me, her long legs striding purposefully down the corridor.

"Rhea, wait," I called out, trying to get her attention.

But she didn't slow down, didn't even look back. I could tell she didn't want to be bothered.

I followed her, my heart pounding in my chest. What had Roman said to her? What was going on?

As I caught up to her, I could see the tension in her body, the stiffness in her shoulders.

"Rhea, please," I said, trying to get her to stop.

But she just shook her head, her eyes fixed on some point ahead of her.

"I don't want to talk about it, Jey," she said, her voice firm but her words barely above a whisper.

I hesitated, unsure of what to do. But then, I saw the tears in her eyes, the sadness and desperation etched on her face.

And I knew I had to do something.

"Rhea, please," I said, my voice soft and gentle. "Let me help you. Let me be there for you."

Rhea stopped walking, her body frozen in place. And for a moment, I thought she was going to turn around, going to let me in.

But then, she shook her head, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Just leave me alone, Jey," she said, her voice cold and hard. "I can take care of myself."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling helpless and unsure of what to do.

I sighed, feeling a sense of frustration and helplessness. I'd tried to reach out to Rhea, to get her to open up to me, but it was clear that she wasn't ready to talk.

I watched as she walked away, feeling a pang of disappointment. I'd thought that we'd finally gotten to a point where she trusted me, where she'd let me in.

But I guess I was wrong.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of resignation. I knew that pushing her wouldn't do any good. Rhea was stubborn, and if she didn't want to talk, then I wasn't going to be able to make her.

But I also knew that she wasn't going to be able to keep this inside for much longer. She was going to need someone to talk to, someone to confide in.

And I had a feeling that it wasn't going to be me.

I thought about Jimmy, about how close he and Rhea were. She trusted him, looked up to him as a mentor and a friend. If anyone could get her to open up, it would be Jimmy.

Or maybe Naomi. Rhea had always been close to Naomi, and Naomi had a way of getting people to talk.

I nodded to myself, feeling a sense of determination. I may not be able to get Rhea to talk, but I could make sure that she had someone to turn to when she was ready.

And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving Rhea to her thoughts and her secrets.

Rhea's POV:

I walked into my tour bus, feeling like I was escaping from the drama and chaos of the arena. I tossed my belongings onto the counter and made my way to the shower, feeling like I needed to wash away the tension and frustration of the past few hours.As I stepped under the hot water, I felt my muscles begin to relax, my mind begin to quiet. I closed my eyes and let the water wash over me, trying to clear my head and calm my thoughts.After the shower, I changed into a pair of comfy jeans and a soft t-shirt, feeling like myself again. I curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling of the tour bus. My mind was still racing, still trying to process everything that had happened. Roman's secrets, Jeys' kiss, the conversation with Roman in the locker room... it was all swirling around in my head, making me feel dizzy and disoriented.I didn't know what to do, didn't know how to make sense of it all. Part of me wanted to confront Roman, to demand the truth from him. But another part of me was scared, scared of what I might find out, scared of what might happen.I sighed, feeling a sense of frustration and uncertainty. I didn't know what the future held, didn't know what was going to happen next. All I knew was that I needed to take some time for myself, to figure things out and get my head on straight as. I lay there, staring at the ceiling of the tour bus, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I knew that I would get through this, that I would come out stronger on the other side. It was just a matter of time.

A MONTH LATER

I pulled into the arena in New Orleans, feeling a mix of emotions. It had been a month since I'd last been here, a month since everything had fallen apart.

I'd taken some time off for my mental health, needed to get away from the drama and the stress of it all. And now, I was back, ready to face whatever came next.

As I made my way to Hunter's office, I couldn't help but think about Roman and Jey. I hadn't spoken to either of them since that night, hadn't wanted to deal with the drama and the feelings that came with it.

But now, I had to face the music. I had to talk to Hunter about the storyline, about what was going to happen next.

When I arrived at Hunter's office, he greeted me with a warm smile. "Rhea, it's good to see you. How are you doing?"

I shrugged, feeling a sense of uncertainty. "I'm doing okay, I guess. Still trying to process everything that happened."

Hunter nodded sympathetically. "I know it's been tough, but we need to talk about the storyline. You know that Jey's kiss was a huge hit with the fans, and we've decided to run with it."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Hunter leaned forward, a gleam in his eye. "We're giving you and Jey a nickname, Rhea. The fans are calling you 'Jhea' now."

I felt a sense of shock, of disbelief. "Jhea?" I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it.

Hunter nodded. "Yes, and we're going to run with it. We're going to make Jhea a huge part of the storyline, and I think it could be really good for both of you."

I wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure how I felt about it. Part of me was excited, excited to see where this new storyline would take me. But another part of me was scared, scared of what might happen next.

"I don't know, Hunter," I said finally, feeling a sense of uncertainty. "I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."

Hunter leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine. "Rhea, this could be huge for you. This could be the break you need to take your career to the next level."

I sighed, feeling a sense of unease. I didn't know what to do, didn't know what was right.

But as I looked at Hunter, I knew that I had to make a decision. I had to decide whether or not to take the risk, to see where this new storyline would take me.

And with that, I nodded, feeling a sense of determination. "Okay, Hunter. Let's do it."

I walked to my locker room, lost in thought. As I turned a corner, I saw Jey and Jimmy passing by me. I gave Jey a slight look, but didn't say anything. I just kept walking, not wanting to deal with any drama before my match.

I got to my locker room and started getting ready, putting on my gear and preparing myself mentally for the match against Becky Lynch. I was determined to win, to show everyone that I was still a force to be reckoned with.

As I walked to the gorilla area, I saw Jey waiting for me. He gave me a warm smile and wished me good luck. Then, he put a hand on my shoulder and kissed my temple. I felt a flutter in my chest, but I pushed it aside.

Just as I was about to respond, I heard the sound of a camera clicking. I turned to see a photographer snapping a photo of us. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. This was not what I needed right now.

Jey seemed to sense my frustration and gave me a reassuring smile before walking off. I watched him go, feeling a mix of emotions. I didn't know what to think or feel anymore.

Before I could process anything, my music started playing and it was time for me to go out to the ring. I took a deep breath and made my way out, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

I walked out to the ring, ready to take on Becky Lynch. The crowd was electric, and I was determined to give them a show. We started the match, and I was in my element, performing move after move with ease.

But then, disaster struck. I landed a little too hard on my ankle, and I felt a shooting pain go through my leg. I tried to shake it off, but I knew something was wrong.

Becky caught on to my weakness and took advantage of it, delivering a series of vicious kicks to my injured ankle. I cried out in pain, unable to defend myself.

The referee called for the bell, and the match was over. I lay on the mat, clutching my ankle in agony.

Jey and a few referees rushed out to check on me, concern etched on their faces. Jey carefully made his way over to me, helping me sit up and examining my ankle.

"Oh, Rhea, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice full of empathy. "Let's get you backstage and get you checked out."

I nodded, wincing in pain as they helped me up. Jey held my hand, supporting me as we made our way backstage.

As we walked, Jey slightly placed a kiss on the top of my hand, sending a flutter through my chest. I didn't know what to make of it, but it was a small comfort in a moment of intense pain.

The camera man followed us, capturing every moment of my agony. I didn't care, I just wanted to get out of there and get my ankle checked out.

Finally, we reached the exam room, and the medical staff rushed over to examine me. Jey stayed by my side, holding my hand and offering words of encouragement.

As they began to examine my ankle, I looked up at Jey, searching for answers. What was going on between us? Why did he keep showing up for me, even when I was hurt and vulnerable?

I didn't have the answers, but I knew one thing I was grateful to have Jey by my side, even in the darkest of moments.The doctor came over to examine my ankle, gently prodding and manipulating it to assess the damage. I winced in pain as he touched certain areas, but I knew it was necessary.

"After the initial examination, I think it's best if we take some X-rays to rule out any fractures or breaks," the doctor said, his face serious with concern.

I nodded, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. I didn't want to think about the possibility of a broken ankle or worse.

The doctor nodded and summoned one of the medical assistants to wheel in an X-ray machine. I was helped onto the machine, Jey still holding my hand and trying to reassure me.

As the X-rays were taken, I couldn't help but think about the worst-case scenario. What if I was out for months? What if my career was over?

The doctor came back into the room, his face solemn as he examined the X-rays. I held my breath, waiting for the verdict.

"Well?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor took a deep breath before speaking. "It looks like you've got a pretty bad sprain, Rhea. You've got some ligament damage and possible tendonitis. But luckily, there are no fractures or breaks."

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. It could have been so much worse.

"What's the prognosis?" Jey asked, his voice firm with concern.

"Well, Rhea will need to take some time off to rest and recover," the doctor said. "We'll need to immobilize the ankle and get her on some pain management. But with proper treatment and care, she should be able to make a full recovery."

I nodded, feeling a sense of determination wash over me. I was going to get through this, and I was going to come back stronger than ever.

And as I looked up at Jey, I saw something in his eyes that gave me hope. Maybe, just maybe, this injury was the wake-up call I needed to realize what was truly important in my life.

After getting the diagnosis, Jey helped me out of the exam room and we made our way to my locker room. I was still in pain and feeling a bit dazed from the medication, but Jey was supportive and gentle, helping me every step of the way.

As we walked down the hallway, Jackie the journalist appeared out of nowhere, microphone in hand. "Rhea, can you tell us what happened out there tonight?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

I shook my head, not wanting to answer any questions right now. I was still trying to process everything that had happened, and I didn't feel like talking to the press.

Jey stepped in, his voice firm. "No questions right now, Jackie. Rhea needs some time to rest and recover."

Jackie looked disappointed, but she nodded and backed off. "Okay, Rhea. Get well soon."

Jey helped me into my locker room and closed the door behind us. I collapsed onto the bench, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.

Jey sat down beside me, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Rhea," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "We'll get through this together."

I looked up at him, feeling a surge of gratitude. I didn't know what I would do without him right now.

"Thanks, Jey," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jey smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "Anytime, Rhea. Now, let's get you out of those gear and into some comfortable clothes. You need to rest."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. With Jey by my side, I knew I could face whatever challenges lay ahead.Jey packed my clothes into the suitcase, his movements quiet and efficient. I was already asleep, exhausted from the events of the evening.

Just as Jey was finishing up, my phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw that it was Roman calling. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer it.

"Hey, Roman," Jey said, his voice low and cautious.

I didn't stir, too deep in sleep to be disturbed by the sound of Jey's voice.

Jey listened to Roman for a few minutes, his expression growing more serious by the second. Finally, he hung up the phone and finished packing my stuff.

When he was done, he came over to me and gently shook my shoulder. I groggily opened my eyes, feeling disoriented and confused.

"Hey, Rhea," Jey said, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's time to go. We need to get you to your tour bus."

I nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. Jey helped me up and we made our way to my tour bus. He helped me inside and settled me onto the couch, then turned to leave.

"I'll grab my things from my locker room and then I'll meet you back here," he said, smiling and closing the door behind him.

But as Jey entered his locker room, someone attacked him from behind. The camera man rushed over, filming the whole scene as the staff and Nick Aldis rushed to Jey's aid.

Hunter stormed into the locker room, his face furious. "What happened?" he demanded. "Who attacked Jey?"

The camera man kept filming as the staff and Nick Aldis tried to help Jey up. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over with shock.

"I don't know," one of the staff members said, shaking his head. "It happened so fast. We didn't see anything."

Hunter's face turned red with anger. "Find out who did this," he growled. "I want them caught and punished."

As the scene unfolded, I watched from my tour bus, feeling a sense of horror and outrage. Who could have attacked Jey? And why?

I knew that I had to find out. I had to make sure that Jey was safe, and that justice was served.

I was still waiting in the tour bus, trying to rest and recover from my injury. But as the minutes ticked by, I started to feel a growing sense of unease. Something didn't feel right.

It had been 15 minutes since Jey left the tour bus, and I hadn't heard from him since. I knew he was just going to grab his things from his locker room, but something in my gut told me that something was off.

I slowly hobbled out of the tour bus, my ankle throbbing in pain. I ignored it, my concern for Jey overriding my own discomfort.

As I reached Jey's locker room, my heart sank. Jey was sitting on a bench, a gash on his head and blood dripping down his face. The staff and medical team were surrounding him, trying to clean and dress his wound.

Jey looked up and saw me, his eyes flashing with concern. "Rhea, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be walking on your ankle."

I hobbled over to him, ignoring the pain and discomfort. I moved his hair aside to get a better look at the gash, and my anger surged. Who could do this to Jey? And why?

"Jey, I'm so sorry," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I had no idea. Who did this to you?"

Jey's eyes filled with determination. "I don't know, Rhea. But I'm going to find out. And when I do, they're going to pay."

I nodded, feeling a sense of solidarity with Jey. We would get to the bottom of this, together.

But as I looked at Jey's injured face, I knew that this was more than just a random attack. This was personal. And I was going to make sure that whoever did this paid dearly.

After getting 6 stitches and some meds for the pain, Jey was left sitting on the bench, looking a bit worse for wear. I sat down next to him, my ankle still throbbing in pain, but I didn't care. I was more concerned about Jey than I was about my own injury.

I slowly reached out and grabbed his chin, making him face me. "I don't care about my pain, Jey," I said, my voice firm and serious. "I don't care if it sets me back from recovering. I'd rather make sure you're okay first, because I care about you as a friend, Joshua."

It was the first time I'd used his actual name, and Jey's eyes locked onto mine, a look of surprise and gratitude flashing across his face.

After a few moments of silence, I reached out and hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Jey snuggled his face into the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around me tightly.

"I'm sorry, Rhea," he whispered, his voice muffled against my skin. "I'm so sorry you got hurt because of me."

I held him tighter, trying to reassure him. "It's not your fault, Jey," I said. "We're in this together, as friends. We'll get through this together."

As we hugged, I felt a sense of comfort and security wash over me. It was like we were two old friends, comforting each other in a time of need.

And as we sat there, holding each other, I realized that my feelings for Jey went far beyond friendship. I cared about him deeply, and I would do anything to protect him.

But I didn't say anything, not yet. I just held him, and let him hold me back.

After the hug, Jey gathered his stuff and I slowly hopped off the bench, almost falling forward. Jey caught me, chuckling and saying "Careful, Ms. Clumsy!"I shyly laughed and said "Maybe I should get some crutches..." as Jey helped me steady myself.

Just then, someone walked into the locker room. It was Roman, and I blinked in surprise. Roman says "I know now's not the right time, but at some point, Rhea, we need to talk. You can't ignore me forever."

I felt a surge of anxiety at the mention of talking to Roman, but then he continued, "Don't worry, I know about the whole Jhea storyline. I was the one who brought it up to Hunter, but I'm glad you're happy with him."

Roman said all of this calmly and matter-of-factly, without any hint of malice or jealousy. It was almost as if he was genuinely happy for me and Jey.

I was taken aback by Roman's words, and I didn't know what to say. I just nodded, still feeling a bit stunned.

Roman smiled and nodded back, then turned and walked out of the locker room, leaving me and Jey alone again.

I turned to Jey, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Well, that was unexpected," I said, laughing nervously.

Jey chuckled and put his arm around me. "Yeah, I guess Roman's not as bad as we thought, huh?"

I smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Roman. Maybe he wasn't the villain I thought he was. Maybe he was just a guy who cared about me and wanted to see me happy.

After Roman's unexpected visit, Jey and I decided to get out of the arena and head to my house in Orlando. We boarded my tour bus, exhausted but relieved to be leaving the drama of the arena behind.

As we settled in for the long ride, Jey and I decided to pass the time by playing Uno. I was determined to beat him, and I played my cards strategically, trying to outmaneuver him at every turn.

But Jey was no slouch, and he put up a good fight. We laughed and joked as we played, our competitive spirits clashing in a fun and lighthearted way.

In the end, I emerged victorious, much to Jey's chagrin. "You're cheating!" he joked, laughing.

I grinned, feeling proud of my win. "No way, I'm just better than you," I teased.

We played for hours, taking breaks to rest and snack on food from the bus's kitchenette. As the sun began to set, we grew tired and decided to take a nap, curled up together on the bus's couch.

The ride to Orlando was long, but with Jey by my side, it felt like a breeze. We chatted and laughed, enjoying each other's company as we traveled through the night.

Finally, we arrived at my house in Orlando, tired but happy to be home. We stumbled off the bus, stretching our stiff limbs and yawning widely.

"Welcome home," I said, smiling at Jey.

"Thanks," he replied, smiling back. "I'm glad to be here with you."

Since Jey couldn't drive due to his injury, I offered for him to stay at my house in Orlando until he was able to drive back to his house in Pensacola.

"I don't want to impose," he said, but I could tell he was relieved at the offer.

"Nonsense," I said. "You're my friend, and I want to take care of you. Besides, it'll be fun to have you around for a few days."

Jey smiled, and we hugged it out. As we walked into my house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and joy. This was going to be a fun few days.

As we settled in, I had an idea. "Hey, let's take a pic together and post it on my Instagram," I said.

Jey agreed, and we snapped a selfie of us cuddled up on the couch, both of us grinning from ear to ear.

I captioned it "Recovery mode with my favorite person" and posted it on my Instagram.

The comments started rolling in immediately. "Aww, they're adorable!" said one fan. "Love the #jhea vibes!" said another.

Jey and I laughed and joked as we scrolled through the comments, enjoying the attention and adoration of our fans.

As the night went on, we ordered pizza and watched a movie together, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company.

It was a peaceful, quiet night, but one that I would always remember. And as I looked over at Jey, I knew that this was just the beginning of our adventure together.

It got late, and Jey and I fell asleep watching a horror movie. We were both exhausted from the long day, and the comfortable couch and soft blankets didn't help our sleepiness.

As we dozed off, Jey's phone rang, piercing the silence of the night. Out of habit, I answered it, my eyes half-closed and my voice groggy.

"Hello?" I mumbled.

"Hey, is Jey there?" a voice asked, sounding eerily familiar.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the sleep. "Jimmy?" I asked, my voice still drowsy.

"Yeah, it's me," Jimmy replied. "I just wanted to check in and make sure Jey made it home safe."

I looked over at Jey, who was still fast asleep beside me. I smiled, feeling a warmth in my heart.

"Yeah, he's here," I said. "He's been staying with me for a few days."

"Oh, okay," Jimmy said. "Sorry to wake you, Rhea. I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

I yawned, trying to wake myself up a bit more. "No worries, Jimmy. It's okay. I was already half-awake anyway."

"Thanks, Rhea," Jimmy said. "I'll let you go. Tell Jey I said hi."

"Will do," I replied, hanging up the phone and snuggling back into the blankets.

I looked over at Jey, who was still sleeping peacefully. I smiled, feeling grateful for our friendship and the concern of his twin brother.

As I drifted off to sleep again, I knew that this was where I belonged - with Jey, surrounded by the people and things I loved.

I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of restlessness. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, I decided to get up and make something to eat. Maybe the kitchen would be a better place to find some peace.

As I moved around the kitchen, I was careful not to wake Jey up. I didn't want to disturb his sleep, especially after the long day we'd had. But as I started to cook, I heard a faint stirring coming from the living room.

I turned around to see Jey slowly waking up from the lack of warmth. He realized I wasn't laying next to him and his eyes scanned the room, searching for me. When he saw me in the kitchen, a soft smile spread across his face.

He got up and padded towards me, his eyes half-closed and his hair mussed up. He looked adorable, and I couldn't help but smile back at him.

As he reached me, he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his head on my shoulder, gently. I felt a warmth spread through my chest at the tender gesture.

"So... you were just gonna cook something without me?" he chuckled, his voice husky from sleep.

I laughed and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him back. "Maybe I was," I teased. "But I knew you'd wake up soon enough."

Jey leaned in closer, his forehead resting against mine. "I always do when you're around," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I blushed at the intimate moment, but I didn't pull away. Instead, I savored the feeling of being close to him, of being wanted and needed.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that this was where I belonged - with Jey, in this kitchen, surrounded by the warmth and love we shared.

After I made the four grilled cheese sandwiches, we sat down to eat them. Jey stared at me in a way that made me slightly blush, but thank God it was slightly dark enough in the kitchen that he couldn't see my face turning red.

As we ate, the only sound was the occasional clinking of plates and utensils. The silence was comfortable, but I could feel the tension building between us.

As soon as we finished eating, I hopped up from my stool, eager to clean up the mess. But in my haste, I almost tripped over the stool leg. Jey rushed over to grab me, his hands wrapping around my waist to steady me.

We were inches away from each other, our faces locked in a fierce stare. I could feel the heat emanating from his body, and my own heart was racing like crazy.

For a moment, we just stood there, frozen in time. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the sparks flying between us.

It was as if the entire world had come to a standstill, and all that mattered was the electricity crackling between Jey and me.

I felt like I was drowning in his eyes, like I was being pulled under by the undertow of his gaze.

And yet, I didn't want to look away. I didn't want to break the spell that had been cast between us.

We stood there, suspended in time, our hearts pounding in unison.

What would happen next? Only time would tell.

Jey's POV:

As I stood there, wiping the crumbs from Rhea's mouth, I couldn't help but feel a strong urge to kiss her. Her lips looked so soft and inviting, and I could smell the sweet scent of her breath.

But I didn't want to rush things. I didn't want to scare her off or make her feel uncomfortable. We had only just started to develop feelings for each other, and I wanted to make sure that we took things slowly and naturally.

So I resisted the urge to kiss her, and instead stepped back and smiled. "Come on, let's clean up this mess," I said, trying to sound casual.

As we worked together in the kitchen, I couldn't help but steal glances at Rhea. She was so beautiful, even in her messy, sleepy state. And I couldn't help but feel grateful that she was here with me, that we were sharing this moment together.

As we finished up the dishes and put them away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. This was what I wanted, I realized. I wanted to be with Rhea, to take care of her and make her happy.

And I knew that I would do whatever it took to make that happen.

[ivoyzzz]

traces of you - kang saebyeok

synopsis: saebyeok was always just out of reach, so distant yet so with you. maybe thats why you can’t say no, when she texts you in the dead of night asking if your up. then is at your door, and every time you let her in, she always lets herself out.

warnings: very angsty

a/n: i was in denial writing this, my baby would never!! please enjoy the saddest thing i’ve ever written ! xoxo ivy

going to bed next to saebyeok and waking up with her gone-that was the way it went. you weren’t even sure if she left early in the morning or right after you feel asleep. either way, it didn’t matter, both ways still hurt the same. feeling abandoned, time and time again. it was what you signed up for, every time you answered those stupid two am texts.

so why did you keep inviting her over? maybe because you couldn’t say no to her, or maybe because you didn’t always make the wisest choices that late at night-but you knew the real reason. you hoped one day it would be different, you would wake up and she would be there. one day, she would want more then midnight hookups. the chance of that happening was so very slim, almost impossible. so why should you answer the text she just sent you? well, because there was still that small chance that she would choose you this time.

you stand up, at the quiet and familiar knock. you could imagine how she looked, her bangs sticking to her forehead, hands shoved in her pockets. there was something so, alluring about saebyeok. something that always made you want more, something that was so elusive about her. sometimes, you had her, she was with you. not off with somebody else, not off doing anything else. you felt like you were trying to hold onto water, her just slipping out of your grasp. saebyeok was always just out of reach.

when you opened the door, and she stood with that stupid smirk-that you wanted to kiss off her face. saebyeok was so effortless, she didn’t even have to try-the desire for her never flamed out.

you had stupidly let her in, and she waltzed right in. saebyeok threw herself on your couch, making herself right at home. you almost wanted to scoff, she looked so comfortable-so content. if she was so content, then why did she refuse to stay? instead of saying anything, you offered her tea. “sure, thanks baby.” saebyeok hummed, her stupid smirk still on her face. it was almost as if she knew what she was doing, calling you baby, making you fall for her all over again.

you set the tea down, and took the seat on the couch next to her. your eyes followed her every movement, the way she gripped the teacup, the way the tension left her shoulders gradually. “good?” you mumbled, trying to speak over the sound of your own thoughts.“good.” saebyeok hummed, eyes locked on yours.

“how have you been?” saebyeok muttered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. she looked at you, like you were the only one in the world. she listened, like there was no place she’d rather be. “good, i got that new job.” you said softly, a small smile making it’s way on your face. you knew, deep inside, you knew-that whatever was happening now, it didn’t make up for abandonment.

saebyeok could make you smile harder then you ever have, or she could make you cry, harder then you ever have. it was pathetic, that you let her have this much of a hold on your emotions. maybe deep inside, she knew that. saebyeok knew, that you were so wrapped around her finger-she could do this forever and you’d still wait.

“i’m proud of you. you deserve it, you know that right?” saebyeok said, eye flicking from your lips to your eyes. how could this be the same women, who hurt you time and time again?

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond-afraid you might burst into tears. so instead, you settled for a small nod.

“your always so stressed.” saebyeok says, her fingertips dancing across your arm. “am i?” you squeaked, voice coming out smaller then intended. “mhm. need to let me take care of you.” she hummed, her voice taunting.

you felt the familiar hand creeping up your side, to the back of your neck. saebyeok rubbed the back of your neck, in a comforting way-before she gently pulled you forward. the feeling of saebyeok’s lips, were something you wanted to lock in a box and hold onto for bad days. since you knew, she wouldn’t be there, not when you need her the most. the kiss was gentle and warm, it was so saebyeok. in this moment, it was perfect. it was just the both of you, simply existing-and for these moments, you could forget. forget that she would be gone in the morning. forget the stress of the day. forget that to her, you only existed in these moments.

so, the next morning when you woke up-it wasn’t a surprise that the bed next to you was empty. saebyeok was gone, once again. no trace of her but the crinkled sheets in the spot she once was. it took you a minute to even remember, if she was actually ever there the night before. saebyeok was there, and everything was perfect. the sad part, you would take the heartbreak every time, just for more of those perfect moments. it killed you, it truly did. you would never fully have saebyeok, just traces of her. the problem, was facing reality. and just like all the other times, she became a distant memory, that was until the next text.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

“i just don’t get it. you're not some soulless monster like everyone else seems to think, you're just… hurting. i don’t know if anyone else was listening, but i was, when you did that whole take over the world thing, and i know you're not happy trying to kill us all. so… why?”

metal gestured at his lack-of-mouth with his remaining arm, shaking his head, and amy covered her mouth in shock. “oh yeah! i forgot you can’t talk when like that, so…” she pulled a sketchbook and a glitter-pink pen out of nowhere, placing them on the table next to him.

slowly, he wrote a reply, pressing the pen down harshly enough it bled into the pages beneath it. when he held it out, the words were in shaky block caps. amy got the sense he'd never written something without a keyboard in his life. “MY HAPPINESS IS IRRELEVANT. I SERVE MY PURPOSE.”

“yeah, but why? you don’t have to anymore. you’re safe here.”

he was faster, writing the next part, and his penmanship was noticeably improved already. it was kind of spooky how quickly he learnt that stuff. “YOU KIDNAPPED ME.”

“well, you kidnapped me first, so it’s only fair!” amy put her hands on her hips, pouting. “besides, i couldn’t just leave you there, right? you looked so sad, lying there on your own. it’s not right.”

“I FAILED. I DESERVE IT. BESIDES, FATHER WILL BE BACK EVENTUALLY. HE ALWAYS IS.”

“and he's left you abandoned and destroyed before?” he nodded, and amy's heart sunk. she had her suspicions, with what he was saying during his edgy teen thing, but it still hurt. metal might have been a creepy robot copy, but he was also a person, and no person deserved abuse. “well, i don't think you deserved that! i think you deserve to be happy. and i think you should stop hurting people for a stupid guy who leaves you to rot!”

the strange robotic noise metal made almost sounded like laughter. “YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, DO YOU? I AM PROGRAMMED TO DESTROY, TO CONQUER. TO DOMINATE. I DON'T DO IT FOR HIM.”

“but can’t you just… nor do that? you- you took over the eggman empire, right? so you can go against your programming! you don’t have to do that! i don’t understand why you make yourself mis-“

the sketchbook was shoved into her face before she can finish. “I PHYSICALLY CAN'T.” the underline was so aggressive parts of the page were ripped. he takes it back to scribble some additions under the tear. “I WAS NOT PROGRAMMED TO BE LOYAL. I WAS PROGRAMMED TO BE SUPERIOR. HE FIXED THAT OVERSIGHT ANYWAY. IF IT WAS AGAINST MY PROGRAMMING IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE.”

“so… you can’t control it? you'll just hurt people until you die?” Amy’s fists were curled into balls so tight she couldn’t feel her fingers. “but that’s unfair! that’s stupid! you don’t- you don’t deserve to be stuck like that! i know that you're a person, even if everyone else doesn’t. you shouldn’t be forced to do bad things.”

the laughter like noise again. “I DON'T HAVE TO. IN THE SAME WAY YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE AROUND OTHER ORGANICS. BUT I THINK YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW THAT'D GO.”

“but you’ve been fine here! i mean, as fine as you can be, considering the, uh. circumstances.”

“I PROVE MY SUPERIORITY HERE ON A DAILY BASIS. I THINK THAT ONE SHOULD BE OBVIOUS.”

“okay, rude! but… hmm…” if it didn’t have to be hurting people, then there were ways to get around that. there were plenty of socially acceptable opportunities to “prove your superiority”, right? maybe there was a way to help. she couldn’t just fix him, even if he was a robot, but they could adapt. slowly. “that's good! it means you don't have to hurt people! you can have a life here, with friends, and hobbies, and a therapist, and you'll never have to do anything you don’t want!”

“WHAT I WANT IS IRRELEVANT. I'M NOT A PERSON, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU DENY THAT. I'M A TOOL. IF I'M NOT SERVING A PURPOSE, I MIGHT AS WELL JUST BE SCRAPPED FOR PARTS.”

“but-“ amy stopped herself mid sentence. don’t push too hard. she didn’t know how to deal with child soldier robots she was keeping in her apartment but she did know how to deal with people who were scared and sad and confused and needed help understanding themselves. and sometimes, that meant you couldn’t push too hard at once. metal was hurting and he'd been treated as less than a person by everyone except amy his whole life. that was a lot to unpack, and if she tried to force it, she'd hardly be any better than anyone else. “okay. okay. you want to be useful?”

his ears pricked. it was too smooth a motion to be real, but amy found the attempt at expression adorable. he nodded slowly, like he was afraid of a trap, and the sinking feeling that prior thought briefly erased hit again all at once.

“then you can… uh…” there wasn’t much they could do, metal barely having one functional limb and all. “we can watch steven universe again together! that’s important!”

“IS PEARL IN IT AGAIN? I LIKE HER. SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO MAKES SENSE SO FAR.”

“you know she's in the whole show, right? she’s a main character.”

“I HAVEN'T WATCHED TV BEFORE. I'VE READ THE BIBLE BUT I DON'T THINK THAT'S PARTICULARLY APPLICABLE HERE.”

“it can be if you want it to, i guess.”

“THAT DOESN'T SOUND VERY USEFUL OR IMPORTANT.”

“it is! you’re understanding people life! having questions and stuff is helping me there”.

“OH.” he pauses for a long time, before writing, smaller- “WHY ARE THE GEMS ALLOWED TO BE GIRLS?”

amy blinked. “allowed?”

“I'M NOT. I WANT TO KNOW HOW.”

oh. mentally, she filed a note to kick eggman's ass for being a shitty “father” to his daughter. “who told you that?”

“NO ONE. I JUST KNOW I'M NOT BECAUSE HE ISN'T. DO I HAVE TO MAKE HIM A GIRL?”

okay, well at least he wasn’t transphobic. that was one thing less she had to beat eggman up about. “no! no, you can just choose to be a girl. you can be one now, if you want.”

“WHAT I WANT IS IRRELEVANT.”

“okay, then… what do you think would be, uh, most useful?”

“GIRLS SEEM MORE POWERFUL THAN BOYS. THEY ARE THE SUPERIOR OPTION.”

that was. one reason to be her true self while she was still in the “denying her autonomy” stage. it was a step. she was closer to finding a way to make things right than this morning. that was something.

things were not going the way amy wanted, but they were going close enough she could be okay with it.

[noodles-and-tea]

!!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i didnt plan to spend my sunday this way

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

'...you know jokes like those actually hurt me, right?'

"who said I was joking?"

.

.

.

'oh.'

[fernsehn]

Was looking into this person's eyes or rather it felt as if he looked into my eyes ... up close and in such an open and soft way.

It was something

[twinstxrs]

boo *exu calamity au’s your bad kids*

[medicinemane]

.

[phagodyke]

i keep getting irrationally miffed at ppl 😐😐

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[milo-is-rambling]

My mom was just like ahhh Im anxious to go out of my comfort zone and I was like you’re good how is this out of your comfort zone you’ve done this before and she was like why do you always judge my feelings and say I’m not allowed to feel that way I should feel some other way and I’m sitting here like :| as if she hasn’t done that to my my entire life and as if I didn’t mean you’ve done this before as a you got this sentiment not get over urself

[reikunrei]

bro just for shits i was like lemme check out this stranger con thing i saw noah tweet out bc it’s like a 45 minute drive from my house maybe it’ll be a fun weekend excursion. and that shit is so expensive. oh my god. like i get that these fuckers are like Big Celebs but oh my god. $100 for an autograph?? ON TOP of the general admission fee??? bye omg