#it didn’t happen on screen but I know it did

[usoinked]

Hii! I love your last jey fic with him being possessive! Could you pls do one where he & the reader get into a fight over her being insecure with his story line with Rhea so he keeps her in their hotel for a whole weekend to show her who he truly wants. Maybe some toxic comments like "you think she gets this dick ma? Nah only you"

Love your writing!! Hope this makes sense haha <3

Omggg thank you so much and ofc!! Y’all know I love writing about Jey 🫶🏽🌚

CW: Toxicity, Arguing, Begging, Praising 18+ MDNI, SMUT, cursing, use of n word, unprotected p in v, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k+

You and Jey Uso were in a 2 year relationship, going on 3 years and for the most part everything was fine….was. There were always the usual bumps—scheduling conflicts, long road trips, and the occasional argument—but you had always managed to work through them. The love between you both was solid, built on mutual respect and understanding. That was, until the recent storyline with Rhea Ripley started to change everything.

At first, you could brush it off. You knew that wrestling was just that—wrestling. A scripted, fictionalized world where interactions were meant to stir emotions and get fans invested in the show. You were okay with that. You understood the boundaries and had even joked about how you’d have to share Jey with his fans and his colleagues. But something felt different this time. Rhea wasn’t just a colleague—there was something in the way she interacted with Jey that rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn’t just friendly banter; it was flirtation, and you couldn’t ignore it.

It started small—a teasing smile, a lighthearted comment during interviews, or the occasional touch on his arm after a segment. You told yourself it was just for the cameras. But the more you watched, the more it became clear that there was more to it than that. Every time Jey was near Rhea, he would act differently—more animated, more playful, more engaged. The two of them seemed to have a connection that went beyond the usual working relationship, and it left you feeling…uneasy.

Weeks passed, and the playful flirtation continued. Rhea would smile at him in a way that made you feel like you weren’t even in the room. The way her eyes lingered on him, the way her hand would rest on his shoulder a little too long, the way she laughed at his jokes—it wasn’t normal. It felt personal, and you started to feel like you were on the outside looking in. The jealousy was subtle at first, but as time went on, it began to eat at you more and more. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between them, something you weren’t being told.

You were currently at the apartment you both shared when you saw a segment on your screen involving Jey and Rhea Ripley…again….she was cool at first until Jey and her started flirting back and forth. You knew that this was his job, but that still didn’t make you any less jealous…insecure even. The way she smiled at him when he made the motion to call him, the way she looked him up and down while smiling at him because of his appearance alone, and especially them being that close….it was enough to make you want to turn your tv off. You wanted to watch your man wrestle and look good but not while he was flirting with another female. Fuck no. Not only was it pissing you off, but Jey wasn’t answering his phone after the show ended. Granted you did give him a 30 minute grace period in case he had any dark matches or needed to pack up anything extra…but then it became 45….then an hour…then two hours. You might’ve been born at night but not last night.

Jey had always made an effort to check in after the show, even if it was late. He’d send you a text, make sure you were okay, let you know that he was thinking of you. But recently, that was happening less and less. He’d be busy after the shows—either with the crew or on his phone—and by the time you tried to reach him, his phone was either off or set to “Do Not Disturb.” You tried not to overthink it, but the frustration was building. And the anger was showing.

You sent him a long grueling text message full of swearing making sure he knew how pissed off you were. As much as you were pissed, you were also hurt. Ever since he’d started that storyline with Rhea, it began to seem like the same game over and over again. They would both flirt with each other on camera and then Jey’s plans of calling you after the show seemed to never have existed to begin with. Your face got hotter and hotter every time you thought about it and soon enough, came the tears. Your eyes began to water and slightly sting as the tears fell down your face. You made your way to the bathroom, the cool tiles under your feet offering little comfort as you moved. You grabbed your blue washcloth and ran warm water over it, squeezing out the excess before pressing it gently to your face. The warmth helped to soothe the sting in your eyes, but it didn’t take away the emotions swirling inside of you. You needed to feel something else, anything else. “Stupid ass nigga bruh” you sighed out after taking the rag off your face gently and putting your pink shower cap on, stuffing your braids underneath it.

Turning the water on for the shower, you let the steam fill the room. The sound of the water hitting the tiles was oddly calming, a gentle rhythm that drowned out everything else. You undressed slowly, as if peeling away the layers of frustration and hurt with each item of clothing that hit the floor. Stepping into the shower, the hot water cascaded down over your body, washing away the lingering tension in your muscles but not the ache in your heart.

As you stood there under the spray, you let the water pour over your face, the heat sinking into your skin. It felt like the shower was a way to cleanse not just your body but your mind. The emotions of the night—the jealousy, the anger, the hurt—flooded out of you, but they didn’t leave. They just sat there, heavy, under the surface, simmering quietly. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts of Jey and Rhea out of your head, even for just a moment.

The sound of the water became a small comfort, but it couldn’t block the pain that lingered behind it. Your mind kept drifting back to him, to the moments when you’d felt ignored, pushed aside. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he see how this was affecting you? You didn’t want to keep playing this game, but it felt like he wasn’t even trying to meet you halfway.

You finished your shower with a deep sigh, letting the water wash the worst of your frustration away. But the truth still stung—no matter how many times you scrubbed away the tears or the pain, it was still there. And that feeling, the one that came when you felt like you were losing something you cared about, lingered as you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. It wasn’t just about Rhea or the flirtations—it was about the space that had been growing between you and Jey for what seemed like weeks now.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

The next morning hit you like a brick. You woke up to an empty bed and as you ran your hands onto the smooth cotton sheets, they found an empty space next to you. Sometimes you’d wake up and Jey would be there because he’d arrive early and surprise you but not this time. In times like this, you gave yourself therapy which was doing an entire skin care routine. You needed your mind off Jey especially since your phone notifications were just as empty as the space next to you.

As you got out of bed, the soft stretch of your limbs was accompanied by the satisfying sound of your muscles cracking, easing the tension from the long night. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy, and slowly made your way to the bathroom. With a quiet click, you flipped the light switch on, filling the room with a warm, comforting glow. You grabbed your blue washcloth, running warm water over it before wringing out the excess and gently pressing it to your face. The warmth felt soothing against your skin, helping to wake you up as you sighed deeply, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

You started your morning skincare routine, reaching for your cleanser first. The gentle formula lathered as you massaged it into your skin, focusing on any areas where you felt the remnants of makeup or the wear of sleep still lingering. After rinsing it off, you followed up with a toner, its refreshing scent and cooling effect instantly tightening your pores and balancing your skin’s pH. You swiped it across your face with a cotton pad, feeling the freshness settle in.

Next, you reached for your serum. A few drops went onto your fingertips, and you pressed it into your skin, allowing it to absorb deeply. The light texture and the nourishing ingredients felt like a treat, giving your skin that healthy, radiant glow you always craved. You followed up with a delicate application of eye cream, tapping it gently around the sensitive skin beneath your eyes, trying to reduce the slight puffiness and dark circles from the late-night argument.

After a few moments, you smoothed on your moisturizer, letting the rich cream hydrate your skin and lock in the previous layers. It felt thick enough to give your face a protective barrier but light enough to absorb quickly, leaving your skin plump and soft. Then you finished with a few drops of face oil, massaging it into your skin to lock in moisture and give you that dewy, healthy glow that lasted throughout the day. Finally, you topped it off with broad-spectrum SPF 30 sunscreen, making sure to cover every inch of exposed skin, knowing how important it was to protect yourself from the sun’s harsh rays.

Before you finished up, you reached for your toothbrush. You carefully brushed your teeth, the minty freshness of the paste helping to awaken you even more as you scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. After rinsing, you took a moment to check your reflection, satisfied with the glowing, refreshed version of yourself staring back at you.

Around 2:30 in the afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up a fresh Caesar salad you had thrown together. The quiet hum of the apartment was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open, followed by Jey’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; his presence was felt before he even reached the doorway. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his furrowed brows and tense posture told you everything you needed to know—he was upset.

“What the hell is yo problem Y/N? You texting my phone and shit buggin’ out!

“Whatchu mean buggin’ out? You literally on camera flirting with another woman!”

“That’s my job! You knew that when we got together!”

“I ain’t know another bitch was gonna be all over you and then your ass wasn’t gonna be answering the phone! Joshua yo notifications were silent, you didn’t call me, and yo shit was on do not disturb bruh! Y’all have been flirting on the show for weeks! What? You had her in your hotel room too huh?!”

“It my fuckin’ job Y/N! Me and Rhea are friends outside of the ring and in the ring, but this is just a storyline! The most we’ve done is hug on camera! As far as me not answering my phone, my ass was tired! Tired as fuck and you on my ass for that cuz you think somethin’ going on! Hotel?! You think she was at my hotel f’real?! Ight, I tell you what. Come wit me on the road and see who I got in the hotel room.” He said stepping towards you. “Cause you ain’t gon find shit!”

“I don’t know she might be! Y’all might as well be fucking each other with the way y’all look at each other! Everybody on the net see that shit! You got a whole girlfriend at home Joshua!” You said taking a step towards him where the tension between you both grew even worse.

“That’s yo problem! Yo ass stay on the net Y/N, that don’t got nothin’ to do with me! With us!”

“You want me to come with you on the road? Bet!” You said before dissolving the tension completely due to storming to your shared bedroom and grabbing a few clothes from your closet starting to sort them on your bed. “You not finna have me looking fucking crazy nigga” you mumbled before grabbing your pink suitcase and beginning to throw your clothes inside of it. You were fuming, the argument didn’t make it any better and Jey not even attempting to understand where you were coming from made you even more pissed than you already were.

The drive to Smackdown was a long and quiet one. The silence between you and Jey stretched on, thick and heavy, like an unspoken wall you both couldn’t seem to break. Seven hours on the road with the person who had left you feeling so alone, was torture in its own right. The miles seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing minute feeling like a reminder of everything that had gone unsaid between you two. The hum of the tires on the highway was the only sound, broken only by the occasional change of gears and the low growl of Jey’s engine. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white, and his jaw remained clenched, as if holding in a thousand words that neither of you had the energy to speak.

Every time you looked over at him, there was that flash of gold from his fang teeth when he briefly parted his lips. His dark eyes remained locked on the road ahead, never meeting yours, and you wondered if he even realized how much it hurt that he hadn’t tried to reach out in any meaningful way. There was something about the way he held himself—so guarded, so distant—that only made the frustration and anger you’d been feeling more tangible.

The hours passed with nothing but the occasional hum of the radio and the drone of the road. The tension between you two seemed to increase with every mile, a pressure that built up with every unsaid word. Even though you were sitting next to each other, it felt as though you were on entirely different planets. You tried to push the swirling thoughts in your head away, but they kept coming back—thoughts of Rhea, of Jey’s evasiveness, of your own growing doubts. You couldn’t ignore it any longer.

When the GPS signaled that you were nearing your destination, Jey took the exit for the Marriott. The hotel looked standard—modern, with sleek lines and a minimalist design that spoke of business rather than comfort. The large glass windows caught the last few rays of sunlight, making the building look polished and professional. As Jey parked the car and cut the engine, you both got out in silence. The stillness in the air was deafening as you walked towards the entrance. Neither of you made eye contact, and the shared understanding that this trip—like everything else between you two at the moment—was shrouded in unresolved tension, hung in the air like a thick fog. As Jey got his bangs and your suitcase out of the car and handed the key off to valet, you took some time to examine the lobby. Securing your Pink Christian Dior bag on your shoulder, you made your way inside.

The lobby was bright and clean, with polished floors and neutral-colored decor that didn’t seem to offer much warmth. The hum of the air conditioning and soft murmur of other guests checking in was the only sound in the space. The reception desk was manned by a young woman with a friendly smile, her eyes lighting up when she saw Jey. Despite the tension you felt, a knot twisted in your stomach at the way she greeted him, too eager, too familiar. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just politeness.

Jey didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. His demeanor was casual as he approached the counter, flashing the woman a quick smile before grabbing the room key. You stood off to the side, feeling the bitterness rising again. You knew it was irrational—he was friendly with people, that was just part of his job. But something about the way the woman looked at him felt too personal, too much like an insider joke, something you weren’t part of.

You followed him through the lobby, your steps slow as you tried to ignore the discomfort building inside you. The elevator ride was equally silent, the small space between you and Jey seemingly amplifying the emotional distance. He didn’t look at you once as he pressed the button for the floor, the ding of the elevator breaking the quiet as it moved upward.

When the doors opened, you both stepped out into the hallway, and Jey led the way to your room. The keycard swiped easily into the door, and it clicked open. You entered the room, and the soft, neutral tones of the decor did little to soothe your frazzled nerves. The king-sized bed was made neatly, the sheets crisply white, and the space felt sterile. There was a desk by the window and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft shadow over the room, but even the quiet comfort of the space couldn’t ease the tension that followed you inside.

Jey set his bag down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, but there was still no attempt to break the silence. You stood by the door, your body tense, wondering if you should say something or just let the silence settle. But the words didn’t come. There was too much to say, too much that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Instead, you took a deep breath and walked over to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect yourself. The hotel room, with its impersonal design and sterile comfort, seemed to reflect the state of your relationship with Jey—something that was once warm, but now felt cold. The mirror in the bathroom caught your reflection, and you sighed. You didn’t even recognize the woman staring back at you. She looked tired—worn out from the constant emotional back-and-forth.

You ran your hands through your braids, staring at your reflection. What am I doing? You thought as you sat your bag down, but the answer was unclear. On one hand you thought that maybe you were reading into things too much because Jey had never actually cheated on you throughout your relationship or given you a reason to believe he was going anywhere. But on the other hand, the amount of insecurity and jealousy you had seemed to be taking over you all because you thought your man was entertaining other women…especially Rhea.

The sound of Jey moving around in the other room broke the silence again, but it didn’t bring any comfort. To find some form of therapy, you grabbed your bonnet out of your bag and put it on, stuffing all of your braids underneath the silk fabric before turning the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would give you a moment of peace, a moment to think. But you knew it wouldn’t. You wanted things to feel right again, but it was starting to feel like you were living in a version of reality that didn’t belong to you anymore.

As you undressed and stepped into the shower, the water rushed over you, but it couldn’t wash away the unease. The more the hot water streamed over you, the more you felt the weight of everything—of the confusion, the jealousy, the hurt. Even the soap and small bubbles couldn’t cleanse your mind. And when you stepped out and dried off, you knew it wasn’t just the hotel room that felt empty. It was the space between you and Jey.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around yourself, the soft cotton providing little comfort against the swirl of emotions that still clung to you. You dropped the clothes you’d been wearing earlier into the laundry bag you found tucked in the corner of the closet, the fabric brushing against your legs as your mind raced. When you turned around, your gaze immediately landed on Jey. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands tightly intertwined in front of him. His posture was tense, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you with those dark eyes that seemed to carry all the weight of unspoken words.

It was clear he was upset, but instead of speaking, he just watched you—his jaw set, his gaze unwavering. The tension in the room thickened with every passing second, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being scrutinized under a microscope. His silence spoke louder than any argument, and it was almost like he was daring you to say something. It was as if he wanted you to stay quiet and let him carry the weight of whatever this was, to allow him to make the rules for the weekend—rules that seemed to say you were his and this trip was a way to show you that.

“Is there somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Do you see anybody in here?”

“This still don’t prove anything, why would she be here when I’m here. And again you and her are all over the net.”

“See what I’m sayin’, yo ass trippin for no reason. Ain’t nobody coming up in here. You always listening to what people on the net saying and letting them get inside yo head and shit.” He said before kissing his teeth and taking the remote turning on Peacock and putting on a random Raw taping to play in the background.

You were too in your feelings to notice it and ended up looking at him with straight anger. “Nah Joshua, you look at her like you way too comfortable. It ain’t about listenin’ to no net shit, it’s bout what I see nigga. And what I see is my man flirting with another female like he really wanna be in between her legs f’real.”

Jey let out a soft chuckle, his golden grills on his fangs lining up perfectly with his bottom teeth, but that wasn’t a funny laugh. That was a ‘I’m getting sick of this shit’ laugh and you knew it all too well. “You think I wanna be in between her legs?” He said as he turned to you and started walking toward you no longer laughing but looking deadass serious. His voice dropped a bit having the same deepness from when he was in the bloodline.

“We finna be here all weekend Y/N and you still convinced I got another woman coming to my hotel room and that I wanna be in between her legs and shit. Let me show you who legs I’m really tryna be in between since you think you know everything” he said backing you into the wall pinning both his hands on each side of you trapping you right in front of him. He then leaned forward before planting a rough but passionate kiss on your lips.

At first you gave a bit of hesitation but with the feelings and thoughts from earlier slowly starting to dissipate with his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, you gave in as you opened your mouth allowing him inside of your cavern. Your tongue collided with his as your arms wrapped around his neck deepening the exchange between you two.

With one swift motion Jey’s hands left the wall and made their way to your towel instead snatching it off your body as well as your bonnet letting your most of your braids fall down your back as some fell to the sides of your face. As you began to run out of air, you slowly pulled away before taking Jey’s shirt off revealing the beautiful work of art underneath. His tribal tattoos were never failed to catch your attention, especially with how they contorted when he was mad due to his muscles tensing. Dammit Jey. You were too busy admiring him that you didn’t even notice him picking you up before your attention suddenly snapped back to him as your back hit the soft fabric of the king sized bed.

Jey kicked off his low panda dunks before crawling on top of you, you both getting into another passionate make out session before this time it was him who pulled away as he made his way to your neck. His kisses and his teeth grazing your skin made your body shudder as you leaned your head back to give him more room, while soft moans slipped from your lips. Jey’s hands glided down your waist and to your legs pushing them open as he slowly kissed down your chest, then to your stomach, and stopping just above your entrance. Now he could’ve dived right into it but he wanted to make you…wait. He placed tender kisses between your thighs making sure to go agonizingly slow before dragging his tongue between your folds and up to your clit. His hands gripped onto your legs, as he slowly dragged his tongue over your folds again.

What started out as anticipation and soft moans of pleasure quickly turned into full on moans, inappropriate sounds, and squirming. His tongue started to twist and slide through your folds and over your clit as you could do nothing but squirm as your legs began to shake. You bucked your hips as your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. “Ughhh!” You couldn’t help yourself, you knew you two were in a hotel and the walls were paper thin but that didn’t stop you from letting out those sounds Jey loved so much.

“Hell nah ma, none of that runnin’ shit” he murmured pulling away just slightly before pushing your hips down and going back to putting his tongue to work. God. He moved that tongue so well. There was no way you could stay mad at him when he was making you feel this good. You couldn’t buck your hips so you were forced to literally endure the feeling of the knot in your stomach tightening along with your legs shaking. The slurping and lapping sounds of Jey eating you out didn’t help the situation as your nails found their way into his scalp. “J-Jey!” You moaned out his name as a slew of curse words left your lips due to your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, your body jolting as it did so. Gasps of air left your lips as Jey still didn’t let up knowing you loved to be overstimulated.

“S-Shit! I c-can’t, I can’t!” You said feeling another knot build up, still not fully recovered from your previous orgasm. “One more time” was all he mumbled against your folds as you suddenly felt two of his fingers enter your walls beginning to pump in and out of you. The pleasure was becoming more overwhelming by the second, with one curl of those two fingers against your g-spot you completely broke, spilling all over his fingers and his mouth. His moans beneath and the fact he was cleaning up the aftermath caused your legs to almost completely go numb, they were shaking already still reeling from the massive orgasm you just had. But it was nowhere near over yet.

Jey slowly pulled away not minding that some of your juices dripped down his beard. With one quick wipe with his hands, it was gone. With one swift finger motion, he beckoned you over as you obeyed and swung your legs to the side positioning yourself on your knees before connecting your lips with his. The taste of yourself on his tongue was driving you crazy because it was you and no one else. He returned the kiss and you being the sneaky girl you were decided to get a feel of that Samoan dick you missed so much. It was so hard, large, and you could tell he was eager based on the precum leaking from the head of it. A low growl slipped from his lips before Jey pulled away from the kiss and gently put you in doggy style position where you were facing the TV before getting behind you grabbing your hips. “You wanna feel this dick don’t you?” he asked before starting to rub his dick against your throbbing pussy, it was drenched due to the orgasms you had from earlier and that was all the lube he needed. He pushed inside of you with a quick thrust of his hips as he immediately let out a low moan with a mixture of a grunt. “God damn, baby you tight as fuck f’real” he said easing his way deeper into you which evoked a moan from you. “Yeah take all this in, all f’ me” he praised.

Your walls clenched around Jey as his soft and gentle movements turned into much more rough and faster ones. Jey was paying full attention to you right now and that’s how you liked it. He was too busy giving you back shots to think about anyone or anything else. This was how it was suppose to be. He was showing you who he truly wanted, and your body was reciprocating it. Your pussy was the one thing Jey would always get drunk off of, you’d end up in different positions afterwards and today was no different. The faster and rougher his thrusts got, the more your walls gripped him with desperation.

Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head as one minute you were letting out loud gasps and the next your nails were digging into the bed as Jey was pounding you from behind before forcing you to look at the tv screen in front of you. On the screen was Rhea and Damian currently attempting to take on the judgement day with just the two of them. But the numbers game was too much, you heard the YEET chants from the crowd but with Jey’s dick inside of you, it was nothing but background noise. You remembered this RAW, a lot of people expected him to be there due to the storyline. In reality he wasn’t there because they were prolonging it. But even though this was an old taping, your mind went to him not being there due to the events currently unfolding in your shared hotel room and the fact that he chose you over Rhea. Something about Rhea being dominated by the judgement day and your man being behind you made your pussy throb and your walls completely clench around Jey. “Look at that” he said while taking a hand full of your box braids into his hands. “You think she gets this dick ma, nah only you do” he said as his movement in his hips sped up and he made it a point to purposely brush over that spot of yours which caused your body to shake all over. “Uh huh, found that shit didn’t I? Doin’ all that yellin’ for no reason just to end up like this under me” he muttered before suddenly nailing that spot straight away being completely satisfied by the loud moan that left your lips. “J-Jey! P-Please…” you begged as the sound of flesh slapping against each other filled the room along with your moans and his grunts. Your braids slowly fell back down over your face as Jey’s hand let go of your hair but slowly wrapped his hand around your neck instead lifting your head back making you look up at him instead. “Please what? Look at me when you talk to me ma” he said as he hit that spot over and over again. “Ughhh! F-Fuck!” You moaned up doing your best to attempt to look at Jey but the pleasure was too much. “Whatchu say ma? You ain’t telling me nothin’” he said as his strokes drove you wild. The knot in your stomach was becoming tighter and your pussy was becoming wetter and wetter. “P-Please c-cum inside me!” You screamed out, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes from the pleasure. “You want me to nut in this pussy huh?” He said as his thrusts started to become sloppy indicating he was close. “Y-Yes Daddy!” You screamed as you came undone all over his cock unable to hold yourself back. Seeing you come undone was enough to send Jey over the edge as he let out a number of curse words, slamming into you one final time letting his seed cover your walls. “God damn, mmm” he said before letting out a sigh of pleasure.

Your body was slowly coming down from its third orgasm of the day before you looked at Jey panting. “We ain’t done right?” You asked not being able to help yourself.

“Done? Hell nah. We got all weekend.”

♡

Note: I really hope you liked it! 💕 also if there’s any spelling errors I’m so sorry😭

Divider credits: @enchanthings & @anitalenia

Taglist: @punksyeet @binnieaddict @sheaabuttaababyy (if I did not tag you, it would not let me and you will have to comment!)

[rikiislvr]

unavailable . 2 - nishimura riki

pairing: afab!reader x nishimura riki

summary: fresh out a relationship with a heavy heart, niki seeks comfort in his best friend, not knowing you were falling for him

warnings: cussing

ps. read part 1 if you’d like! :)

the next morning, you woke up first, looking down, you seen niki laid against your arm, dried tears stained his face, you couldn’t help but feel horrible for him.

you were knocked out of your thoughts from the sound of his phone buzzing on your nightstand, you reach over just incase it was his parents,

but no… it was ivy.

- 3 unread messages -

vy <3 : niki? it’s morning now.. can you reply?

vy <3 : i’m sry i ended things that way, i meant to do it sooner!

vy <3: pls can u call me?

you couldn’t help but scoff at the messages, you cared about ivy, but you would’ve never expected for her to do what she did, you were hoping there was a truly valid reason on why she ended things off 5 months into the relationship…

you look down as you felt niki shuffle in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open, he blinked softly before looking up at you,

“was that my phone going on?” he mumbled, you nod and handed him his phone, he read the screen and sighed, putting his phone down on the bed and laying his head back down on your arm.

“don’t force yourself to reply. it’s bullshit ki..” you reassure, he nods, “i just don’t know why.. she wouldn’t tell me when i asked.” he sighs, “what actually happened?” you say.

he sat up, making you sit up too, his pushed his hair back before clearing his throat, “we were walking in the empty park after we got dinner.. it was going fine, she was smiling and… i was laughing. we were holding hands. suddenly a change in her energy was shown..”

you tilt your head,

“she suddenly stopped walking and.. told me she didn’t wanna hurt me but.. she couldn’t do this relationship anymore. i tried to ask for more of an explanation but she let go of my hand and ran home..” he sighs.

you couldn’t help but shake your head, niki felt tears forming in his eyes again, “don’t cry ki… i’m so sorry.” you frowned, “how about we do something today? get your mind off things?” you try,

he nods slowly, wiping his eyes, you sighed again, you couldn’t handle seeing him this way, you quickly got up, “alright. you have to sneak out my window, go home and get cleaned up and come back, we’ll go do something fun okay!” you smiled, trying to break the sad barrier.

he chuckled at your consideration, he nods and got up, you helped him out your window before turning to your bathroom to get ready.

-

you were waiting for niki to ring the doorbell downstairs, wearing a white skirt and a pretty pink sweater, you grabbed your bag before you heard the doorbell,

you quickly ran downstairs to see your mom opened the door already,

“niki! it’s nice to see you, i’m assuming you’re here for y/n?” she says, niki nods, your mom steps aside as you walk up to him, “hey,” you smile, “hi.” he replied,

your mom chuckled before closing the door, “okay so, where are we going?” niki cleared his throat. “sh! let me surprise you, you’re gonna have to put this on when we get somewhat close.” you pull out a bandana to cover his eyes.

he chuckled and rubbed his neck, “alright then.” he nods.

-

on the bus, you two got a couple of weird stares due to him having on a bandana, but you brushed it off and dragged him off the bus when the stop arrived.

“i just tripped over so many people’s feet..” niki groaned as the bus took off, you two stood outside your favorite childhood spot.

it was a pretty park, a nice trail with so many flowers, and of course, the bench you two always sat on to do everything.

you lead him over to the bench, it still had the painted hand marks on the seats.

one pink hand mark, and one blue hand mark, you smiled to yourself. you two haven’t been here since highschool started, due to how much you’ve been busy.

“y/nnn.. take this off of me nowww.” he groaned again, you chuckled, “go on.” you smile,

he removed the bandana with ease, blinking to adjust to the world again, his eyes drifted around the familiar surroundings, and down at the bench. he smiled softly.

“gosh. we haven’t been here in so long.” he says softly, you nod, he aligned his hand to his old hand mark, which didn’t fit since his hands grew a lot from when you two were young.

you giggled and aligned your hand to your smaller hand print too, “damn, we’ve grown haven’t we.”

“i’m shocked no one’s painted over it or.. scraped it off.” he chuckled and sat down on his side, you sat beside him, “they better not! or we’ll just redo it.” you shrug,

niki chuckled to himself, he looked around, you couldn’t help but stare at him, the wind blew his bangs away from his eyes, giving you a better access to his full face, you couldn’t help but smile.

you felt so bad.

his heart was pure gold. it hurt to see him like this, you knew he was trying to put a smile on around you but, deep down you knew his heart was breaking..

him and ivy have been dating since freshmen year, you guys are seniors now.. so you can only imagine how bad this must be on him.

suddenly he looked down, and before you knew it.. he burst into tears.

your heart breaks.. literally.

“oh.. ki.” you frown and pull him in your arms, he sobbed softly in your shoulder, you closed your eyes at the sounds of his crying.

“i’m sorry..” you whisper, suddenly he lifts his head back up, looking at you with teary eyes, tears streaming down his face.

you instantly wiped the tears from his cheeks, sucking in your lips in guilt. “i should’ve waited until i got you out huh?” you chuckled awkwardly.

“no..” he shook his head, “i’m glad you did actually.. i feel…” he cut himself off..

“i feel complete being back here again.” he smiled, you smiled back at him, “ki?” you call, he raised an eyebrow softly,

“you know i’m always here for you? even if we grow up and.. meet other people. you’ll always hold your spot in my heart.” you reassure, he smiled softly and shifted himself,

he laid his head on your shoulder as you two stare out to the flowers.

he didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him too.

you look down at him, you admired his face, his faint freckles, the way his hair laid on his forehead so nicely.

for some odd reason.. you felt your heart flutter, you quickly looked away..

no.. you can’t catch feelings for your literal best friend, especially when he’s fresh out a relationship. he needs a shoulder to lean on, not a new problem.

you cleared your throat, “should we go get ice cream? that always cheered us up.” you say, he nods and stood up slowly, lending his hand out for you.

you hesitate, niki noticed and tilts his head slightly, you clear your throat again and grab his hand before lifting yourself up.

“lead the way” you say, he nods slowly and you two began to walk in a comfortable silence.

you thought to yourself.. get yourself together.

now’s not the time.

a/n: so do i keep continuing this ooorrrrr lmk !

taglist : @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay @chaevibes @jiyeons-closet @bananna-12

[vicsstufff]

PROLOGUE — no exceptions.

warnings: when the characters talk in any other language, you would know when the words are like this: “hello! who are you doing?”, language, smoking, camila’s dad is kinda abusive.

paring: hopkings!p.bueckers x exchange student!oc

authors note: hello everyone! this is the prologue of my first series “Behind The Screen” i’m so excited to write this and i’m constantly reading fics to motivate me and learn more. i didn’t plan that much of angst for this series but i will definitely add more than planned.

the harsh crash of the waves, the pure smell of the ocean mixed with the food from the near restaurants was addictive. this was the life that camila had her entire life, she wouldn’t give it up from nothing. “are you still going to your last year of high school?” miranda, her friend questioned her not taking her eyes of the little waves that made their way to their feet, cleaning the sand that piled up during their walk. “of course i am. where else would i go?” camila assured her, a comforting smile creeping its way in her face, miranda took her eyes of her feet and stared at the distance. “are you that sure? i heard your parents talking to the principal.” miranda took a shaky breath before continuing “they are sending you away, camila.” the smile that build up its way to camilas face quickly disappeared once miranda did her confession.

camila grabbed her dirty sandals and started sprinting towards her house. the streets were busy, summer was right around the corner and that meant one thing, tourists, camila wasn’t bother by the tourists, she actually liked them, she helps the ones that look lost or the ones that are one foot away from completely passing out because of the penetrating sun. thanks to an old lady, she even learned to speak english and a little bit of spanish too, making it more easy to speak with other tourist.

she unlocked the main door to her house, getting inside quickly, mumbling could be heard from her parents room, not to far from her own room. silently, she walked to her parents room, pressing her ear to the locked door to hear properly.

“why would we send her away!?” her mom shouted, she could hear the way that she was breaking everything that was in her eyesight “come on, woman, she doesn’t needs us anymore and we don’t need her anymore! she is almost a grown adult! she will be okay!” her father remarked her age again, she didn’t know what was wrong with her father and him being obsessed with young woman, before her 17 birthday, camila’s father was a perfect father, he bought her gifts, clothes, hair products, shoes anything you could imagine, but when her 17 birthday rolled over, he stopped being sweet to her, he didn’t care for her anymore, instead, he started focusing on her little sister, helena who was barely 15, the exact same thing happened to her mother, she know all the atrocities her father did to her.

“minnesota? really carlos? that shit is so far away!” her mother argued, minnesota? definitely it was not even near brazil or even located in brazil, maybe it was a city or a very small country? “she will be fine! she is even going to have another family” her father added, she couldn’t bring herself together and hear more than she needed to, her eyes locked with her bedroom door, she didn’t bring her phone to the beach so she would have a thousand of messages if anybody knew she was going to be exchanged.

cam

they r sending me away

p

what??

were??

cam

some place called minnesota

p

dude, omg

that’s were i live

no way

cam

seriously??

ur telling me that it’s in the usa??

p

yeahhhh

omg

please tell me ur coming to hopkins

we could finally meet

before camila could respond to her friend, her father entered her room abruptly, not even caring to knock. “hey, um, we need to talk.” her father mumbled, he was clearly nervous, but he wasn’t nervous when he was arguing with her mother. “i’m sorry, baby, you are going to study in another place.” her mother interrupted her father and hugged her tightly, her worst fears were begging to become true. she didn’t wanted to be separated from her family, neither her friends. “stop babying her!” her father barked, grabbing his wife shoulder and lunched her making her land in the middle of camila’s room. “look, you are very good academically and they offered us to exchange you for another student. it’s only going to be one year.” her father explained but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her broken mother, her own father had destroyed her mother, he had successfully sent her away to an unknown place she obviously didn’t know, who is going to take care of helena? her mother couldn’t possibly, she was very bad emotionally, and her father didn’t believe in therapist.

camila could sense her sisters presence in the room, she looked at her doorframe, helena was there, in shock, she had seen and heard everything. her bottom lip was shaky and she gripped the doorknob tightly.

the plane she was going to take was leaving until july, even though school started in august, she knew it was her fathers plan to get rid of her faster. for the past days she couldn’t stop texting ‘p’ the unknown girl made her feel safe, every text was filled with comforting words, it made her a little exited to visit a new place but she didn’t want to admit it.

her father made her do a face time with her host family, they were very sweet, so caring, they even had a beautiful schnauzer dog, she was called monica. her prayers were heard, she was going to hopkins, minnesota, ‘p’ started talking about herself more, she had figured out that she was in the women’s basketball team, she had blonde hair and blue eyes, and couldn’t stop saying that she was definitely taller than camila.

the nights were shorter when talking to ‘p’, their conversations never ending, ‘p’ would text her even if she was in class, or in practice, it made camila’s stomach flutter, knowing that someone took their to time to talk to her, even if they were busy. she was very excited to meet ‘p’ friends too, almost all of them were from the basketball team. p started planning dates hangouts, going for a milkshake, ice cream, eating pure junk food, going to see her play, watching the stars, you named it. camila was so excited to met her, but also nervous, what if she doesn’t meet her standards? what if she expects camila to be more beautiful? camila shook those thoughts away quickly, texting p to assure her that everything will be fine.

cam

what do u think i look like

p

i have been waiting for this

curly hair (obv), little bit tanned, maybe green eyes? definitely smaller than me, freckles and a natural blush

cam

wtf

how do u how i look like

p

u r definitely fine then

camila didn’t want to admit it, but she was definitely falling for this called ‘p’.

[cherryxbooo]

I've got you ... always

Summary: Working as a Mercedes engineer has always been challenging, but with men constantly looking down on you, it becomes unbearable. Lewis is quick to put a stop to it, and fight for justice.

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for the love you've shown me so far. I really appreciate it! 🤍 The reason I chose this storyline is to address the issue of sexism and misogyny in workplaces. Unfortunately, this still happens far too often, and with this fic, I hope to bring much-needed attention to this subject. Just know you're not alone 🫶

Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Warning: misogyny and sexism

It had been nearly six years since I first joined Mercedes as an engineer.

Six years of intense work, late nights, early mornings, and a relentless pursuit of perfection in the world of Formula 1.

It was my dream job, one I had worked tirelessly to achieve.

But those six years also marked the time I’d spent with Lewis, six years of love, laughter, and challenges with the man who had become my everything.

I could still remember the day we met as if it were yesterday.

A bit of backstory:

I was the newest member of the Mercedes team, fresh out of a competitive hiring process, and I was determined to make an impression.

The first time I stepped into the paddock, I felt like an imposter among the sea of seasoned professionals.

My hands clutched my tablet like a lifeline as I walked into a strategy meeting, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in my chest.

Lewis was already there, sitting at the far end of the room. He looked relaxed, dressed casually in his signature streetwear style, yet exuding an unmistakable aura of confidence.

As I took a seat near the back, his eyes flicked toward me.

I was sure he wouldn’t even notice me, why would he?

I was just another new face among dozens of team members.

But then, he smiled.

It wasn’t one of those polite, obligatory smiles.

It was warm and genuine, as if he could sense my nerves and wanted to reassure me.

That smile was like a silent message:

You belong here.

Over the next few weeks, our paths crossed more frequently.

At first, it was just in passing, a quick hello in the garage, a casual “How’s it going?” during lunch breaks.

But it didn’t take long for us to start talking. Really talking.

It was during a particularly chaotic race weekend in Silverstone that our friendship began to solidify.

A last-minute weather change had thrown everyone into a frenzy, and I found myself staying late in the garage to run some last-minute simulations.

The paddock was nearly empty when Lewis walked in, still in his racing suit, and caught me muttering to myself as I tried to make sense of the data.

“Long night?” he asked, leaning against the workbench with a lopsided grin.

“You have no idea,” I replied with a tired laugh, glancing up from my screen.

He stayed and talked with me for over an hour, even offering a few insights that helped me crack the issue I was stuck on.

By the time he left, I realized that the nervousness I’d felt around him was gone.

He wasn’t just Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion.

He was kind, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

From that moment on, our friendship grew effortlessly.

Whether it was over post-race debriefs, team dinners, or stolen moments between the chaos of race weekends, we found ourselves drawn to each other.

We bonded over a shared love for what we did, but also over our differences, his world of high-speed fame and my quieter, behind-the-scenes role.

It wasn’t long before I realized my feelings for him had shifted.

I hadn’t planned on falling for him, but Lewis had a way of breaking down walls without even trying.

He made me laugh when I was stressed, listened intently when I rambled about work, and made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t experienced before.

One evening, after a long day at the factory, he invited me out for dinner.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a cozy little restaurant tucked away.

Over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, we talked about everything from our childhoods to our dreams for the future.

By the end of the night, when he walked me to my car, he hesitated for just a moment before leaning in to kiss me.

That was the beginning of us.

For a long time, we kept our relationship private. We both wanted to protect what we had, to keep it ours without the scrutiny of the public eye.

But as the months turned into years, it became harder to hide.

Fans started noticing the subtle signs, the way Lewis would glance at me during interviews, or how I always seemed to be nearby during race weekends.

When we finally decided to go public, it wasn’t a grand announcement or a carefully curated statement.

It was a simple photo posted on Lewis’s Instagram.

We were in Monaco, sitting on a terrace overlooking the harbor, the golden light of sunset washing over us.

I didn’t even know he’d taken the picture until he showed it to me later that night.

“Should I post it?” he asked, his voice tentative.

I hesitated, thinking of the attention it would bring, but then I looked at him, at the way his eyes softened as he waited for my answer.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

The response back then was overwhelming.

Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, and the media couldn’t stop speculating about us.

But through it all, Lewis and I stayed grounded, reminding each other that our relationship wasn’t for anyone else.

It was for us.

One of the things that made our relationship so strong was our ability to communicate.

From the very beginning, we had promised to tell each other everything, our fears, our frustrations, our dreams.

No topic was off-limits.

Whether it was a rough qualifying session for him or a challenging project for me, we leaned on each other without hesitation.

At least, that’s how it used to be.

Lately, I hadn’t been able to keep my promise to Lewis, to tell him everything, to lean on him like I always had.

The reason? Mark, Alan, and Greg.

They were three senior engineers on the team, men who had been with Mercedes long before I joined.

Older, more experienced, and as I had quickly discovered, painfully set in their ways.

From the very beginning, they had made it clear that they didn’t think I belonged.

I still remember the first time I overheard them.

It was during my second week on the job, and I was running a simulation late at night.

They didn’t realize I was in the corner of the garage, headphones off, sorting through notes.

“Hiring for diversity quotas,” Mark had muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, they want to tick a box, so they bring in the fresh-faced rookie,” Alan had added with a chuckle.

Greg, ever the opportunist, chimed in,

“Let’s see how long she lasts when the pressure’s on.”

"She's better off making us a sandwich."

Their words had stung, sharp and bitter, but I had swallowed my pride.

I told myself that proving them wrong would be the best revenge.

I worked harder than I ever had in my life, triple-checking my calculations, volunteering for extra tasks, staying long hours to ensure that my work was flawless.

And for a while, I thought it had paid off.

At first, the snide remarks tapered off.

They didn’t engage with me much, but at least they stopped openly questioning my abilities.

I had even started to think that maybe, just maybe, I had earned their respect.

But lately, the comments had returned, and they were worse than ever.

It started subtly, dismissive sighs during meetings when I spoke, or whispered conversations that stopped the moment I entered the room.

Childish right?

Then the snark escalated, cutting through my carefully built confidence like a knife.

“Did you even double-check this?”

Alan had sneered last week after a team briefing, gesturing at the simulation results I’d spent days perfecting.

Greg, never one to miss a chance to pile on, smirked as he added,

“Leave the big decisions to people who actually know what they’re doing.”

Then Mark's voice was heard,

"Yeah, go do the laundry or something, whatever you women are good in."

It was always wrapped in the guise of banter, thinly veiled behind forced smiles and casual tones.

But I wasn’t naïve.

There was a sharpness to their words, a deliberate attempt to undermine me that cut deeper each time.

Even Mark, the one who usually played the “neutral” party, had started joining in.

During a debrief on a race strategy I’d helped design, he had scoffed and muttered,

“Well, I guess every team needs its token young genius.”

It was relentless.

Every day, there was something, a comment, a glance, a dismissive laugh that made my blood boil.

But I kept it all to myself.

I told myself that it wasn’t worth causing a scene, especially now.

Lewis had enough on his plate.

His move to Ferrari had been the talk of the motorsport world, and while he was excited for the new challenge, the transition was anything but easy.

here were endless negotiations, media commitments, and the emotional weight of leaving the team that had been his family for over a decade.

I couldn’t bring this to him, not now.

Not when he was already stretched thin.

So, I stayed quiet.

I bit my tongue when Alan questioned my calculations, ignored Greg’s condescending remarks, and pretended not to hear Mark’s muttered jokes.

Each time, I told myself it was just words, that I could handle it.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could.

Lewis was busy.

I kept telling myself that over and over, like a mantra.

Between announcing his move to Ferrari, dealing with the media frenzy, juggling sponsorship demands, and the seemingly endless meetings, he had so much on his plate.

The last thing he needed was me adding my problems to the mix.

But today was different.

The garage was buzzing with activity as we prepped for the upcoming race weekend.

The sound of drills, clinking tools, and the hum of engines filled the air, a symphony of chaos I had grown to love over the years.

I was stationed at my usual spot, hunched over a set of data sheets, meticulously double-checking the aerodynamics report for any inconsistencies.

I was deep in concentration, my pen scratching against the paper, when their voices drifted over.

Mark’s gruff tone was unmistakable.

“What’s the point of her even being here? Probably just a pretty face for the team photos.”

I froze, my hand pausing mid-note.

My heart sank, but I willed myself to stay calm, telling myself to ignore it like always.

Alan, never one to pass up an opportunity, snorted.

“Yeah, but even that’s debatable.”

Their laughter was casual, almost conversational, but the sting of their words hit me like a whip.

Then Greg joined in, his tone dripping with mockery.

“She’s only here because she’s shagging the driver or maybe even the boss. Imagine thinking she got this job on her own merit.”

Mark laughed before adding,

"Maybe we can all ask her for a turn as well, if it's that easy to shag the boss, we might have a chance too."

"At the end of the day, that's all they're good at. Women don't belong in the motorsport world."

The room was filled with their laughter.

That was it.

My pen slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the table as my hands began to shake.

I stared at the numbers on the page, but they were a blur, overshadowed by the burning heat of humiliation rising in my chest.

For years, I had endured their passive-aggressive comments, their dismissive attitudes, their constant undermining of my capabilities.

I had told myself it didn’t matter, that their opinions didn’t define me.

But hearing them reduce everything I had worked for, the late nights, the sweat, the tears, the sacrifices, to nothing more than being Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend?

It was too much.

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to hold it together.

But their laughter, light and cruel, echoed in my ears, shredding the last of my composure.

I pushed back my chair abruptly, the screech of metal against the concrete floor silencing the room for a brief moment.

My vision blurred with unshed tears as I grabbed my tablet and notes, clutching them to my chest like armor.

I didn’t dare look at them, I couldn’t.

My breath hitched, and my chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in.

I needed to get out. Now.

Without a word, I turned and stormed out of the garage, my footsteps heavy and uneven.

I didn’t care where I was going; I just needed space, air, something to stop the lump in my throat from turning into a sob.

As I walked away, their laughter faded into the background, but the words lingered, etched into my mind like a scar.

I didn’t know where I was going.

My feet carried me blindly, weaving through the maze of garages and team trailers until I found myself at the paddock’s edge.

It was quieter here, away from the relentless hum of activity, the chatter of crew members, and the ever-present cameras.

I sank onto a bench beneath the shade of a tree, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

Burying my face in my hands, I let out a shaky sigh.

My mind replayed their words like a broken record, each snide comment cutting deeper than the last.

"What’s the point of her being here?"

"Probably just a pretty face for the team photos."

"She’s only here because she’s shagging the driver."

The worst part was that they’d managed to plant a seed of doubt.

I had worked so hard to get here, put in countless hours, and sacrificed so much to prove myself in this male-dominated field.

And yet, in this moment, I felt like a fraud, like I didn’t belong.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Lewis’s voice cut through the fog in my mind.

I looked up sharply, my breath catching when I saw him standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed in concern.

He must have followed me.

My stomach twisted in a mix of guilt and relief.

The last thing I wanted was for him to see me like this, vulnerable, crumbling under the weight of my emotions.

“What’s wrong my love?” he asked, stepping closer and crouching down in front of me.

His warm, dark eyes searched mine, his hands gently resting on my knees.

The concern etched into his face made my heart ache.

“Nothing,” I lied, quickly wiping at my face.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, his expression soft but skeptical.

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

I hesitated, my resolve cracking under his steady gaze.

His presence was grounding, but I didn’t want to pull him into my mess.

“It’s nothing, really,” I tried again, forcing a weak smile.

“I just… I’m tired.”

“Y/n.”

His voice was low and firm, but there was a tenderness to it that made my throat tighten.

“Please. Talk to me.”

That was all it took.

The dam broke, and the words spilled out in a rush.

I told him everything, the comments, the dismissive attitudes, the years of enduring their quiet but cutting condescension.

My voice wavered as I explained how it had worsened recently, how their snide remarks had crossed the line into outright insults.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve been under so much pressure with everything, Ferrari, the media, the season. I didn’t want to be another problem for you to deal with.”

Lewis listened intently, his face unreadable as I spoke.

But the slight tightening of his jaw and the way his hands gripped mine told me he was anything but indifferent.

When I finished, there was a long silence.

I stared down at my hands, afraid to meet his eyes.

“They’ve been doing this for years?”

he finally asked, his voice low and tightly controlled.

I nodded, biting my lip. “It wasn’t always this bad, but yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to add to your stress,” I said softly.

“You’ve been dealing with so much already.”

Lewis let out a slow, measured breath, his grip on my hands tightening.

“Y/n, nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than you.”

His voice softened, but there was a fierce protectiveness beneath his words.

“You should’ve told me. They don’t get to treat you like this. Ever. No woman deserves this kind of treatment.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Lewis was already standing.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, his expression dark with determination.

“Lewis, what are you doing?” I asked, standing as well.

He glanced at me, his jaw set.

“I’m making sure this doesn’t happen again.”

I reached out, touching his arm.

“Lewis, please—”

“Y/n.” He turned to face me fully, his eyes locking onto mine.

“You’ve put up with this for far too long. I’m not letting it slide, and neither should you. This is your workplace, your passion. You shouldn’t have to deal with people who try to tear you down.”

His words hit me hard, a mix of anger and love wrapped in every syllable.

I nodded slowly, my throat tight with emotion.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening as he pulled me into a hug.

His arms wrapped around me tightly, and for a moment, I let myself melt into his warmth.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair. “Always.”

By mid-afternoon, the entire paddock was filled with noice.

Meetings with Toto were rarely casual, and the tension in the air was palpable.

I stayed out of sight, nerves twisting in my stomach.

When Lewis had assured me earlier that he wouldn’t let this go, I’d believed him.

But seeing the immediate repercussions unfold was a different kind of catharsis.

The walk to Toto’s office felt longer than it should have, every step heavy with anticipation.

Lewis had his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me through the bustling paddock.

His touch was grounding, but my nerves still prickled under my skin.

“Relax,” he said softly, leaning closer.

“We’re handling this together.”

I nodded, though my stomach was a tangled mess of knots.

The last thing I wanted was to cause drama, but after years of enduring Mark, Alan, and Greg’s behavior, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

When we arrived at Toto’s office, Lewis didn’t bother knocking lightly.

He rapped his knuckles on the door with purpose.

“Come in,” came the familiar voice from inside.

Toto was seated behind his desk, a stack of papers neatly arranged to one side.

His brows lifted in mild surprise when he saw the two of us enter together, but he quickly gestured for us to take a seat.

“This seems serious,” Toto remarked, his sharp eyes flicking between us.

"What’s going on?”

Lewis glanced at me, silently asking if I wanted to start.

I hesitated, my fingers twisting in my lap.

Noticing my reluctance, Lewis leaned forward.

“It’s about some of the team dynamics,” he began, his voice calm but tinged with an unmistakable edge.

“Specifically, the way Mark, Alan, and Greg have been treating Y/n.”

Toto’s expression shifted, his posture straightening.

“Go on.”

I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak.

“For years now, they’ve made comments, snide remarks about my qualifications, my presence here. It started when I joined, but I brushed it off because I was new, and I thought I had to prove myself. But lately…”

My voice wavered, and I swallowed hard to steady it.

“Lately, it’s escalated. They’ve been openly dismissive of my work, undermining me during meetings, and even questioning my position on the team. Today, they went too far.”

Toto’s jaw tightened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“What happened today?”

Lewis’s hand found mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze as I recounted the incident.

“They implied I’m only here because I’m dating Lewis and that I used my body to get my position,”

I said quietly, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

“And that I didn’t earn my role.”

Toto exhaled sharply, his expression darkening.

“That’s not all,” Lewis added, his tone hardening.

“This has been going on for years, Toto. Years. Y/n didn’t tell me sooner because she didn’t want to cause problems, but that’s no excuse. Those three have created a toxic environment, and it stops now.”

Toto’s gaze shifted to me, his stern demeanor softening slightly.

“Why didn’t you come to me earlier, Y/L/N? This isn’t the kind of behavior we tolerate here.”

I shrugged, feeling small under his scrutiny.

“I didn’t want to be seen as a troublemaker. They’ve been here longer than I have, and I didn’t think anyone would take my word over theirs. Plus, I didn’t want to add more stress to an already intense environment.”

Toto shook his head, his voice firm but understanding.

“You should never have to tolerate that. Not here, not anywhere. The Mercedes team prides itself on being a family. What you’ve described is unacceptable, and I take full responsibility for not noticing it sooner.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, his jaw still tight.

“What’s the plan, Toto? Because I’m not letting this slide.”

Toto nodded, already making notes on a pad in front of him.

“First, I’ll be speaking to Mark, Alan, and Greg individually. They’ll be given the chance to explain themselves, not that there’s much room for justification here. If their behavior aligns with what you’ve described, they won’t be part of this team by the end of the day.”

A weight lifted off my chest at his words, but the tension in the room remained palpable.

“I want to be there,” Lewis said firmly.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

“Lewis—”

“No,” Lewis interrupted.

“This is personal. They didn’t just disrespect Y/n, they disrespected the team, the values we stand for, and me by extension. I need to make it clear that this behavior won’t be tolerated. From anyone.”

Toto regarded him for a moment before nodding.

“Fine. But let me handle the disciplinary side. You can say your piece, but I’ll deliver the consequences.”

Lewis nodded, satisfied.

“That works for me.”

Toto turned back to me, his expression softening once more.

“Y/n, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure this. If there’s anything else you need, support, time off, anything, let me know. I’ll make sure you feel safe and valued here.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

Lewis stood, pulling me up with him.

“We appreciate it, Toto. Let us know when the meeting is.”

“You’ll hear from me shortly,”

Toto promised, standing to shake Lewis’s hand before giving me a reassuring nod.

As we left the office, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel alone in this fight.

Lewis wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked down the corridor.

“We’ve got this,” he said softly, his voice full of conviction.

I leaned into him, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah, we do.”

Toto wasn’t one to waste time.

Within the hour, Mark, Alan, and Greg were called into his office one by one.

The first to arrive was Mark.

When he stepped in, he wore his usual smug expression, likely thinking this was just another routine meeting.

But Toto’s steely gaze and the presence of Lewis, standing tall with his arms crossed by the window, quickly shattered that notion.

“Have a seat, Mark,”

Toto said curtly, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

Mark sat, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between Toto and Lewis.

“What’s this about?”

Toto wasted no time.

“It’s about your behavior toward Y/L/N,” he said, his voice sharp and unwavering.

“I’ve been informed of your repeated condescension, disrespect, and comments that have no place in this team, or any professional setting.”

Mark blinked, caught off guard.

“What? That’s not true. I—”

“Don’t bother lying,” Lewis cut in, his voice cold and firm.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes fixed on Mark.

“We’ve both heard enough from Y/n and other team members. You’ve been targeting her for years, haven’t you? Questioning her qualifications, making snide remarks about her role here, and today, outright implying she only got her position because of me.”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“I… Look, it was just banter. No harm meant.”

“Banter?” Toto echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief.

“You call undermining one of the most talented engineers on this team banter? You call questioning her abilities and belittling her contributions banter?”

Mark leaned forward, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Toto, I didn’t mean anything by it! I was just—”

“Enough,” Toto interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.

“I won’t tolerate excuses. You’ve created a hostile environment for one of your colleagues, and that is unacceptable. You’ve not only disrespected Y/L/N but also the principles this team stands for. I don’t care how long you’ve been here, Mark. Your behavior is grounds for immediate dismissal.”

Mark paled, his smugness vanishing entirely.

“Dismissal? Wait, Toto, please. I’ve been with this team for years. You can’t just—”

“I can, and I will,” Toto said, his voice resolute.

“Pack your things. Security will escort you out by the end of the day.”

Mark turned to Lewis, desperation in his eyes.

“Lewis, you can’t agree with this. We’re teammates, for God’s sake!”

Lewis’s expression didn’t waver.

“You stopped being my teammate the moment you disrespected Y/n. Pack your things, Mark.”

Mark’s shoulders slumped, and he left the office in silence.

Next was Alan.

He walked in with a similar air of confidence, though it quickly dissipated when he noticed the tense atmosphere.

“Toto,” Alan began, sitting down and glancing uneasily at Lewis.

“What’s going on?”

Toto leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk.

“What’s going on, Alan, is that your behavior toward Y/L/N has come to light. Years of dismissive comments, snide remarks, and today, a blatant attack on her credibility. Care to explain yourself?”

Alan frowned, leaning back in his chair.

“Look, I might’ve been a little hard on her, but it’s nothing personal. She’s young and still learning. I thought she could use a bit of tough love.”

Lewis scoffed from his spot by the window.

“Tough love? Is that what you call undermining her at every turn and insulting her in front of the team?”

Alan shifted uncomfortably.

“She’s good at her job, I’ll give her that. But come on, Lewis, you can’t deny people have wondered if her connection to you played a part in her being hired. It’s not like I said anything everyone wasn’t already thinking.”

Lewis took a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides.

“The only reason anyone would think that is because people like you spread that garbage around."

"Y/n earned her place on this team through her hard work and talent, not because of me."

We didn't even know each other when she joined. And even if, she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, the way you’ve treated her is disgusting.”

Toto’s expression darkened further.

“Alan, you’ve been with Mercedes long enough to know we value respect and inclusivity above all else. What you’ve done isn’t just a breach of trust, it’s a breach of the very foundation of this team. Your actions have consequences. You’re fired, effective immediately.”

Alan stood abruptly, his face red with anger.

“You’re seriously going to throw away years of experience over a few jokes?”

“Yes,” Toto said bluntly.

“And I suggest you leave now before you embarrass yourself further.”

Alan glared at both of them before storming out, muttering under his breath.

Finally, it was Greg’s turn.

Unlike the others, Greg walked in looking visibly nervous.

He barely met Toto’s eyes as he sat down, fidgeting with his hands.

“Greg,” Toto began, his voice steady but firm.

“You know why you’re here.”

Greg nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah… yeah, I figured.”

“Then you know the kind of behavior we’re addressing,” Toto continued.

“You’ve contributed to a toxic work environment for Y/L/N and others. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Greg hesitated, glancing at Lewis, who was staring at him with barely concealed anger.

“I—I don’t have an excuse. I guess… I thought it was harmless, but it clearly wasn’t. I crossed a line, and I’m sorry.”

Toto’s brow furrowed.

“You thought it was harmless? You’ve made Y/n feel unwelcome and disrespected in her own workplace. That’s not harmless, it’s damaging. Apologizing now doesn’t erase what you’ve done.”

“I know,” Greg said quickly, his voice trembling.

“I know I messed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“It’s too late for that,” Lewis interjected, his voice low but full of authority.

“You had years to change your behavior, and you didn’t. You don’t get to stay on this team after what you’ve done.”

Toto nodded in agreement.

“Greg, I appreciate that you’re taking responsibility, but the damage has been done. You’re no longer part of this team. Security will escort you out shortly.”

Greg’s shoulders sagged, and he nodded, standing to leave.

“My deepest apologies,” he said quietly before walking out.

By the end of the day, the three men were gone, and the Mercedes team felt lighter.

Word of the firings spread quickly, and several team members quietly expressed their relief and support for you.

Back in the garage, Lewis pulled me into a quiet corner.

“It’s done,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded, a weight lifting off my chest.

“Thank you, Lew. For standing by me.”

“Always sweetheart,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“No one messes with my girl.”

To all the women facing sexism at work, school, home or online: You are strong, capable, and deserving of respect. Don’t let anyone diminish your worth. Your voice matters, and you are making a difference just by being you. Keep pushing forward.

The end

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn to their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[three-realms-archive]

Biggest Crush

Summary/Details: MC sees someone on TV that they haven’t seen in a while, and the brothers react accordingly. Fluffy and light, all brothers included!

You didn’t mind being squished in between Mammon and Beelzebub on the sofa for the weekly movie night. The former took the opportunity to not-so-subtly snuggle into your side, whilst the latter held a comically-large bowl of popcorn; eighty-percent of which was probably for himself. The movie you watched was some old film that the brothers’ apparently had some nostalgia for, but could only be found on DevilTube. Inevitably, this meant an advertisement would play every so often; and your eyes lit up as a familiar demon flashed up on screen.

“Woah, it’s Darkfang! Yo…” you said, tossing some of Beel’s popcorn into your mouth. The sixth-born simply smiled, content at seeing your cheeks so adorably full, as you continued. “He was the first Devildom idol I ever got into!”

A few noises and hums of acknowledgement came from the brothers. On the TV screen, Darkfang flashed a handsome, cocky smile, winking at the viewer as he showed off what you assumed to be a new fashion line. You feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

“Y’know,” you began, voice slightly muffled as you chewed, “I had, like, the biggest crush on him back when I first got here.”

Silence, this time.

Lucifer tensed up. Leviathan peered up from his D.D.D for the first time that evening, with an imperceptible yelp. Satan balled his fists in his lap to stay composed. Asmo bit his lip. Beel stopped eating. Belphegor’s tail thrashed against the carpet.

Mammon’s grip on you was getting a little tight.

“Hey, Mam’. You mind squeezing a bit lighter?” You say nonchalantly, eyes focused completely on the movie, which had started up again after the advert had finished.

Little did you know, no one was paying attention to the movie anymore.

Instead, each brother replayed the advert in their mind; determined to one-up their new competition.

_

Later that week, something strange happened around the House of Lamentation.

Well. Strange things always happened… but this was different.

Suddenly, everyone was into idols. You caught Asmo and Levi studying idol performances more intensely than you had ever seen them study for an exam. Beel had even joined them for dancing practice each morning - complete with synchronised singing and chanting. You could hear the commotion from your room, and it now served as your alarm.

You figured this fascination with idol culture was what got Satan, Belphegor and Mammon in the music room every day after school. They didn’t know you knew, but it was pretty hard to miss when Mammon’s cries of ‘we sound so much better than that idiot!’ rang throughout the halls, accompanied by the rather-hideous combination of sounds from an electric guitar, a classical piano, and a cowbell.

Then, there was Lucifer. You tiptoed quietly into his study one evening, intending to remind him to get some rest. Instead, you found Lucifer sound asleep, his head on his desk… and a poster of Darkfang nestled under his cheek. Beside it were notes - meticulous, handwritten notes - with various facts you recognised about Darkfang’s height, weight, workout routine, diet… even his favourite pie flavour?

“Oh my Diavolo… I never guessed they’d all become Darkfang fans!” You whisper excitedly, blissfully ignorant to the brothers’ true motives. “I’ll start watching him on TV more often.”

(i’m probs gonna start doing more comedy amongst the angst storm lol. a lot of family friends way younger than me recently got into kpop, and i started watching and looking back at old idols i liked - especially vocaloid and kpop idols that gained popularity around the bts wings era. feel free to share any idols you guys liked as a kid/teen!)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 56

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,890ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan find themselves in the TVA, prepared to do whatever it takes to bring you home and take care of you.

Notes: This can be a tough one. Hope y'all enjoy it. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan didn’t bother asking Wade how he got his yellow and blue suit fixed up, he honestly didn’t care enough. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists as he stood in the TVA. All that mattered was getting you back. You deserved happiness and a place to experience that. Logan would do what he could to make that happen. Laura was standing at his side, defensive and ready for an attack, while Deadpool was in front, leading the charge. TVA agents were surrounding them, with Hunter B-15 pushing to the front.

“There she is!” Wade exclaimed. “The woman in charge! Though, I did hear the author thought about bringing Loki into this, but you’ll do just fine.”

“The three of you need to leave,” B-15 said.

“Oh, not a chance in hell. We are looking for my Buttercup and will not be leaving without her.”

“She broke the conditions of her return to your timeline.”

“Look, sugarplum,” Wade pulled out one of his katana’s and pointed it at B-15, causing the agents around to arm themselves, “this isn’t a request. I will happily let my pack of wolves cut through you all to get the information we want, but I’m sure you don’t want to clean up that mess. Trust me, I’ve been there. Some stains never come out.”

Logan stepped forward with a growl, claws coming out with a snikt. The claws in Laura’s hands released as well, a signal to the TVA that they weren’t going anywhere without you. With a glare, Logan’s eyes barely glanced past B-15, noticing a screen that was showing you curled up in a field, on fire.

“She’s in The Void,” Logan murmured, fists clenching tighter.

Without another word, all hell broke loose. Claws and swords were flying as the agents tried to gain control of the situation.

“Peanut!” Wade exclaimed. Logan turned just in time to see Wade toss a TemPad in his direction. He caught it with ease. “Press the button! Little Wolf and I got it from here.”

Logan pressed the button and ran through the orange Time Door, closing it before anyone could follow after him. With a deep inhale through his nose, he could smell your smoke and it was strong. He spun around to see a large fire going in the field, a few miles away. Logan took off towards it. TVA agents began coming through Time Doors along the way. He grunted and roared as he used his claws to kill each agent that tried to cross his path. No one was going to stop him from getting to you and bringing you home. 

As soon as Logan reached the flames, he ran right in, stopping the agents from coming after him.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled. He coughed as he fought through the smoke and flames, not caring that his suit and skin was burning. “Y/N!”

“Lo—Logan?”

It was quiet and pained. Logan knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he didn’t have heightened senses. But it was there. You were there, nearby. 

“I’m here, sweetheart!” He shouted. “I’m bringing you home! Just let me see you!”

“I–I can’t,” he could hear the sob in your throat. “It’s too much... It’s all too much… I just want it to end…”

Logan continued to head in the direction of your voice. “I know, doll. You’ve been so strong. But you don’t need to carry it all on your own anymore. I… I’m here. Just let me get to you, sweetheart.”

The fire in the center extinguished, leaving a ring of roaring fire on the outer edges and smoke. He coughed as he tried to wave the smoke away enough to see you. You were curled up in the blackened grass, a dazed look in your eyes, your clothes barely hanging on with various burns peeking through. Logan rushed over and fell to his knees in front of you. His hand came up to your face, gently trying to get your attention.

“Logan,” you sobbed.

He shushed you as he pulled you into him. One of his arms secured you to him while his other hand cradled your head into his neck. “I’ve got you… I’m here… I’m taking you home.”

“I have no home.”

Logan understood the feeling. He had felt that way until Wade crashed into his life, bringing the rest of you along with him. “Yes, you do, sweetheart… you have Wade and Althea and Laura… you have me… you will always have me.” 

He held you tighter as multiple Time Doors appeared and more agents marched through, surrounding the two of you. He kept your head in his neck so that you couldn’t see what was going on.

“Alright, alright, enough of the dramatics,” Wade said as he, Laura, and B-15 came through one of the doorways.

“We have reached an understanding,” B-15 stated. “Y/N can return with you. But your TemPads and time jumpers must be returned.”

Logan tossed the one he had towards her before resuming his grip on you. You tried to curl up further into Logan as you felt the eyes of the others on you. B-15 opened another doorway. 

“That will take you home,” B-15 informed. “I am truly sorry about all of this.”

Logan scoffed as he stood up and walked through the doorway without another word. It led to your apartment where he immediately headed to your bathroom. He walked in and tried to set you down. You gripped him tighter.

“I need to set you down, sweetheart,” his voice was calm and reassuring. “Need to get you cleaned up.”

“No,” you shook your head, wincing at the action. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, but you need to be cleaned up and cooled down. You’re still overheating which can’t be helping your pain.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, loosening your grip on him.

With great care, Logan set you down on the counter. He didn’t let you go until he felt that you could hold yourself up enough.

“I’m going to turn on the shower,” he told you. He waited patiently for any sort of response from you. You gave him a single nod before he was quickly turning around to move to get the shower going. Once he had done that, he was back in front of you. His eyes ran over the burnt clothes, barely giving you any coverage. “Can I get you out of these clothes?” Logan watched as you bit the inside of your cheek, giving yourself a moment to think it over. “No funny business, darlin’, just taking care of you.”

You gave him a nod, not meeting his gaze. With great care, Logan began to free you from the tattered clothing. His eyes remained on your face as he worked, trying to show you that he meant what he said and so that he didn’t have to see the burns littering your skin. You whined and whimpered as the movements caused you pain. Once you were free of your clothing, Logan stepped back.

“I can leave you to–”

“Please don’t leave,” your voice was quiet and full of desperation. “I don’t want to be alone… I can’t…”

Logan stripped off his Wolverine suit, leaving him in his boxers before stepping back up to you. More delicate than you could imagine from the man, he picked you up and took you into the shower. He kept a firm arm around you as he set your legs down. 

“Do you want your hair or body washed first?” he softly asked. You shrugged, looking down. One of his hands came up and hooked a finger under your chin, gently guided your head up to look at him. “I’m not gonna do anything more without a verbal answer, darlin’. Hair or body?”

“Body,” you whispered.

Logan nodded before grabbing your washcloth and squeezing some body soap on it. With great care, Logan began lathering you up with soap. You were practically a doll in his arms, barely keeping yourself up as he took care of you. Once your body was clean, Logan moved to your hair. You leaned back against him as he used his calloused hands to massage the soap into your hair. Your eyes closed as you let him take care of you.

It felt natural for Logan to take care of you, despite that the two of you weren’t from the same timeline, and didn’t share the same history. It made him crave for more moments to take care of you.

By the time Logan was done cleaning you up, you were practically unconscious. He turned off the shower and reached out for a towel, carefully wrapping it around you. He carried you out of the bathroom and headed to your room, catching a glimpse of a lingering, worried Laura in the hall.

“Can you get her dried up and changed, kid?” He quietly asked.

Laura nodded and quickly headed into your room. Logan followed and gently set you down on your bed. You weakly reached out for him, whining in pain.

“I’ll go grab some medication,” he said before slipping out of the room. 

Not caring that he was still wet from the shower and only in his boxers, Logan headed to where he knew you kept the medication in the kitchen. Wade was in the kitchen, making a mess.

“Woah, Peanut!” Wade exclaimed, upon seeing Logan’s state. “Now is not the time to be putting down moves. My favorite superhero is not okay and I will not allow you to use her!”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot,” Logan muttered. “She asked me to help her.”

“Well you could help us all by getting your soaked body dry a little more. I know the readers don’t mind that you’re standing here in your boxers but you’ve got water on the floor. This isn’t a water park.”

“Fine. Grab some meds and get them to Y/N. I’m gonna change.”

~~~

Back in your room, Laura was holding back tears as she helped you dry off and into some comfy clothes.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” she cried. “I didn’t mean any of it… you’re my mom. I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you… I’m so sorry…”

You were barely registering anything around you. The pain, emotional and physical, was all consuming. Laura helped you with great care and trembling hands, tucking you into your bed once she was done.

“Okay! I got the meds! I also brought some water!” Wade exclaimed as he waltzed into the room. He immediately became somber as he took in the sight of you weakly laying there and Laura crying over you, holding your hand. 

“All she’s ever done is put me first,” Laura mumbled. “How could I treat her so bad?”

Wade sighed, coming over and sitting on the other side of you. “She’ll forgive you… Help me get these meds in her? I’ll sit her up.”

Laura nodded, taking the pills and water from Wade. Wade carefully helped you sit up, wincing at the painful cry that let your lips.

“Sorry, Buttercup,” Wade said softly. “We just need you to take some meds. It will help.”

“Here you go, mom,” Laura said, placing the meds in your mouth. 

For a brief moment, her mind snapped back to when she watched you and her father do the same thing for Charles. Her heart broke at the memory and the situation you were currently in. She silently wished that her father were here, he would be better suited to handle this. 

She guided the water bottle up to your lips and was grateful when you swallowed the meds down.

“There you go,” Wade cooed, like you were a child. “Gonna get you all better, Buttercup. Can’t lose my favorite super hero just yet. Haven’t even gotten your opinion on the new Emberine fic I’m putting together.”

“No one wants to read that shit,” Logan murmured as he came into the room, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and gray sweats.

“Actually, I have over seven thousand followers than say otherwise.”

“Bullshit,” Logan scoffed. His eyes focused on you as he came to stand at the end of your bed. “How is she?”

“Our Little Flame here is in a lot of pain. But she’s a fighter.”

“She needs rest,” Laura said quietly, guilt weighing heavily on her. 

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Logan said. “We should take shifts.”

“And I get the first shift!” Wade quickly rose his hand. “You two assholes still need to make up from the damage you did. Now, scurry off. Big Brother Wade is taking over.”

Laura gave your hand a squeeze as she stood up. She leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, mom,” she whispered. “I love you.” She slowly let your hand go and left the room.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Logan stated. “Let me know if anythin’ is needed.”

“Don’t you worry, Peanut! I’ve got everything under control.”

Logan sighed, looking at you for another moment before leaving the room.

“I know you’re sleeping, but I’ve got fics to write and stories to read.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Wade pulled out his laptop and opened it up. “You do not wanna know where I’ve been keeping this thing. I’ve been waiting too long to share some of these fics with you. The first one is about what I think would have happened if your dear Wolvie never lost his memories. I think you’re really gonna like it or it will just make you sad, so I guess it’s good that you’re asleep now. I’m gonna read it anyway.”

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep, neither could Laura. The two ended up silently sitting at the dinner table, a tense awkward silence between the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” Laura eventually spoke up, her voice quiet. “You shouldn’t have had to step in… I just… She’s been carrying so much and her powers dwindling is terrifying… It’s my father all over again.”

“What do you mean?” Logan questioned.

“The adamantium in him poisoned him… He didn’t exactly die from it, but it didn’t help either… He aged in the span of that week faster than I new possible. His healing stopped and everything was painful for him… And now I’m watching my mom go through it… She’s done everything for me. She pushed aside all her pain and grief to raise me… She never deserved those hurtful words.”

“No, she didn’t,” Logan responded. “But,” he leaned forward to try and catch Laura’s eye, “it’s also not all on you. Your mom has clearly had things building up inside her for a lot time. It was only time before Y/N broke like this.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” Laura’s gaze dropped to her hands, rubbing over the spots where her claws extend. 

“What else is bothering you, kid?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.”

She sighed. “It’s… you.”

Logan tried to not be too surprised at her honesty. “Me?”

“You look exactly like my father… exactly like my mother’s husband… but you’re not him. You don’t share the same memories. You… treat me better than he ever treated me. But you’re still not him.”

“I’m not trying to replace him, kid. I’m just trying to be friends—“

“Yeah? And what happens when that leads to more on either one of your ends? Will you walk away if seeing you becomes too much for her or will you break her heart when she feels more than you do? Or is she just a replacement for the Y/N you lost?”

Laura’s words hit Logan harder than he wished they would. Was his presence making everything worse for you? It clearly was harder on Laura than he originally thought. Before he could let his thoughts spiral too much, Logan stood up and strode down the hall. He reached your room to find you still asleep and Wade furiously typing away at a computer.

“Oh, Peanut, just in time!” Wade greeted, not too loud to prevent you from walking up. “I just finished a new fic. I’m sure that it will grow on you. It’s obviously an Emberine fic with a smutty—“

“Get the fuck out,” Logan grumbled. “It’s my shift.”

“Fine.” Wade closed the laptop and leapt from the bed. “I’ll go see if Laura wants to hear my stories. Don’t do anything stupid, Peanut.” Then he was gone.

Logan took a deep breath before taking Wade’s spot on the bed. He couldn’t look at your sleeping form right now, keeping his eyes on the picture of you and your original Logan on the dresser.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things worse,” he whispered. “I just… I haven’t had people in so long… I haven’t let anyone close. I thought that I’d give it a shot… That I wouldn’t walk away… But I will, if it’s too much for you… I’ve really enjoyed becoming friends with you.” 

His head snapped down as some of your fingers brushed against his hand.

“Don’t,” you rasped, eyes still closed as everything still weighed on you. “Don’t… I need friends, too…” Your hand moved to lay on top of Logan’s as your eyes opened a fraction. “Thank you… for bringing me home.”

“Anytime, doll. It’s what friends do.”

next chapter >

[darkenedroses-world]

Heartbeat Hazard — Pezzy x Reader

f!reader, gaming chaos, fluff, teasing romance, soft pezzy, heart rate monitor, request🦋

The glow of Pezzy’s gaming monitors bathed the small room in a mix of blues and purples. He was mid-stream, the guys’ laughter echoing through his headset as they explored the creepy halls of an abandoned asylum in their multiplayer horror game. His heart rate monitor was visible on the screen, the numbers holding steady at 80 BPM as he expertly dodged a ghost that nearly cornered him. “Pezzy, my guy, your heart rate’s too normal,” Droid teased. “I’m starting to think you’re immune to fear.” “Don’t jinx it,” Pezzy replied, his voice steady but focused. “Y’all know how these games go. One big scare, and I’m done for.” “Done for? Bro, you’d have a better chance surviving Y/N walking into the room looking—” Smii7y started, but he never got to finish his sentence. Because just then, the door to Pezzy’s gaming room creaked open, and you walked in. Fresh from the shower, your damp hair clung to your shoulders, and the soft, slightly damp robe hugged your figure in a way that made it impossible not to notice.

You didn’t think much of it—you were just popping in to grab a charger from the desk near him. But for Pezzy, the sight of you rendered him completely useless. His heart rate monitor spiked immediately, jumping from 80 to 120 BPM, as he froze in his seat. The guys noticed instantly. “Yo!” Droid shouted. “What the hell just happened? Pezzy, you good, bro? Did the ghost get you?” “Forget the ghost,” Puffer chimed in, cracking up. “Pezzy just died in real life. His heart rate shot up like 40 points in two seconds!” You paused, confused by the sudden outburst. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of Pezzy’s screen, where his heart rate monitor was flashing wildly, the numbers climbing higher and higher. Then you looked at him, his face flushed and his jaw slightly slack as he stared at you. “Wait…” you said, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Was that because of me?” “Don’t,” Max said quickly, his voice strained as his gaze darted from you to the screen. “Don’t say it.” “Oh, it was definitely her,” Grizzy laughed, practically wheezing.

“Y/N, what are you even wearing? My man’s heart can’t take it!” “It’s just a robe,” you replied innocently, though the mischievous glint in your eye betrayed you. You turned to Pezzy, leaning on the edge of his desk. “You okay, babe? You seem a little… distracted.” His heart rate spiked again, and the guys erupted into another round of laughter. “Bro, this is better than the game!” Puffer howled. “We don’t even need the ghost to kill him—Y/N’s got it covered.” “I hate you all,” Max muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “And you,” he said, pointing at you. “Stop.” “Stop what?” you asked, feigning innocence as you leaned in closer, your damp hair brushing his shoulder. “I’m just standing here.” His heart rate monitor hit a new high, and Droid lost it completely. “Someone call 911! We’re losing him!” You couldn’t help but laugh as you straightened up, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll leave you to your game,” you teased, heading for the door. “Try not to die, okay?” The door closed behind you, and Max let out a shaky breath, leaning back in his chair.

“Pezzy,” Puffer said through his laughter, “you’re the first guy to die in a horror game without even leaving the safe zone. Congrats, man.” “Y’all are the worst,” Pezzy grumbled, though the small, lingering smile on his face said otherwise. The game continued after you left the room, but Max was a shadow of his usual self. His responses were delayed, his movements clunky, and his heart rate refused to dip below 100 BPM. Every time someone teased him, it only made it worse. “Pezzy, focus up, bro,” Droid said between laughs. “We’re in the middle of a hunt, and you’re still recovering from Y/N’s jumpscare.” “She’s not a jumpscare,” Max shot back, his voice flustered. “She just—” “Walked in and broke your brain,” Grizzy finished for him, snickering. “It’s okay, man. We get it. Love does things to a guy.” “Shut up,” Max grumbled, trying—and failing—to regain focus. His character rounded a corner in the game, and the ghost appeared out of nowhere, screeching as it lunged toward him.

Max yelped, slamming his keyboard as his heart rate monitor spiked again. “He’s dead again!” Droid cackled, his laughter echoing through the headset. “Double kill—ghost and Y/N, tag team champions of the night!” Max let out a long, defeated groan as his character crumpled to the ground. “I’m done. I’m so done,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. The guys howled with laughter as Max reached for his headset, muting himself as he leaned back with a heavy sigh. He glanced at the door, debating whether to follow you or finish the stream, but he knew he didn’t stand a chance of focusing with you still on his mind. “Alright, chat,” he said, unmuting briefly to address his audience. “We’re calling it for tonight. Thanks for hanging out, and uh… yeah, see you next time.” He ended the stream quickly, ignoring the flood of teasing messages from his chat. Peeling off his headset, Max stood and headed out of the gaming room, following the soft hum of music into the living room. You were curled up on the couch in your robe, scrolling through your phone, completely at ease.

“Done gaming already?” you teased without looking up, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, well,” Max started, running a hand through his hair, “it’s hard to focus when my girlfriend decides to look like that.” You laughed, setting your phone down as he came closer. “It’s just a robe, Max.” “No, it’s a distraction,” he corrected, sitting down beside you. “You literally derailed my entire stream.” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Should I apologize?” He grinned, shaking his head. “No, but you should probably make it up to me.” You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And how do you propose I do that?” Leaning in, he brushed a hand over your damp hair, his smile softening. “Just stay here,” he said simply, pulling you into his arms. “No heart rate monitor. No jumpscares. Just us.” You let yourself relax against him, his warmth chasing away the chill from your still-damp robe. “You’re impossible, you know that?” And you’re dangerous,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[rylem33]

Brace Yourself

Jeremy shivered as the cool air kissed her now-exposed skin. Her fingers brushed over the sleek, metallic bracelet still clasped around her delicate wrist. She’d only put it on as a joke, trying to lighten the mood during another dull hangout session with the guys. Who could have guessed it actually worked… or had this kind of power?

Her reflection in the mirror across the room was unrecognizable: wavy auburn hair falling in disarray over her shoulders, piercing eyes that smoldered with an almost magnetic pull, and a figure that screamed temptation in every curve.

Jeremy swallowed hard, fighting the alien sensations coursing through her body. She felt heat pooling in her core, a deep, insistent need that was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think.

“What… what the hell just happened?” one of the guys finally stammered, breaking the stunned silence.

Jeremy turned to face them, her lips parting as if to explain, but no words came out. Her friends’ gazes roamed over her like they couldn’t decide whether to freak out or… something else.

The longer they stared, the more Jeremy’s frustration grew. These were her friends. Or, at least, they had been. But now? They were useless. Awkward, fumbling boys who didn’t have the faintest idea what she needed.

The thought slid into her mind unbidden: A real man would know what to do.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she shook her head violently, trying to banish the idea. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t normal. But the warmth inside her wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing.

Ethan took a hesitant step forward. “Jeremy? Are you… ok?”

Her laugh came out softer, breathier than she intended. “Do I look like Jeremy to you?” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Ethan faltered, and Jeremy rolled her eyes. These were her friends, but now they just seem like useless boys. She needed to figure this out herself. Or… maybe she didn’t. Maybe she should just give in. Give in to the lust building within her.

She clenched her fists, determined to keep herself together. But deep down, a part of her was already wondering: What would it feel like to stop fighting? To just… let go?

Take it off,” Ethan said, his voice trembling as he gestured toward the bracelet. “Whatever this is, you  just need to take it off, Jeremy. Maybe it’ll stop.”

The others nodded, their eyes darting between her and the bracelet. Their nervous energy filled the room, but she felt nothing but annoyance. Why should she take it off? This body… this power… it felt so good. Why would she go back to being him?

She smirked, twirling a strand of her auburn hair between her fingers. “And what if I don’t?” she purred, enjoying the way her friends flinched. “What if I like it like this?”

“Jeremy, come on,” Ethan pleaded. “This isn’t you. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not real. It’s the bracelet messing with your head!”

She tilted her head, considering his words. The bracelet was doing something, wasn’t it? It had changed her body, her mind, even her desires. But was that such a bad thing? The thought sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

Without saying a word, she picked up her phone. Her friends exchanged panicked looks.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked cautiously.

Jeremy ignored him, her perfectly manicured nails dancing across the screen as she dialed a number. The tension in the room grew heavier with each passing second.

“Who are you calling?” another friend, Max, demanded, his voice cracking.

She didn’t answer. A sly smile spread across her lips as the call connected. “Hey,” she said, her voice low and honeyed. “Yeah, it’s me. I need you to come over… right now.”

“Who the hell did you call?” Ethan asked, but she just smiled in response.  Minutes passed by as they peppered her with questions but she just toyed with her hair and ignored them.

Before anyone could react, the door slammed open with a loud bang. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light, was Jake Larson. His broad frame filled the space, and his trademark cruel grin was plastered across his face.

“Well, well, well,” Jake sneered, stepping into the room. “Looks like I get a late Christmas present. I get to do my two favorite things tonight: beat the crap out of you little losers… and have some fun with her.” His eyes roamed over Jeremy—no, Jessica—hungrily, and he let out a low chuckle.

The tension in the room snapped. Ethan, Max, and the third friend, Dan, exchanged a quick, panicked glance before making a break for the door. But Jake wasn’t about to let them go so easily.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he snarled, lashing out with a heavy boot as they scrambled past him. Ethan yelped as the kick landed squarely on his side, sending him stumbling into the wall. Jake managed to catch Max with a shove that sent him sprawling onto the floor, but Max scrambled to his feet and bolted after Dan, who had already slipped out the door.

“Cowards,” Jake spat, watching them flee down the hall. He turned his attention back to Ethan, who was still clutching his side and trying to crawl away. With a cruel grin, Jake delivered one last kick to Ethan’s ribs before the boy managed to stagger out of the room.

As the door slammed shut behind them, the only sounds left were Jake’s heavy breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as Jessica shifted on the bed.

Jake turned back to her, his grin widening as he finally had her all to himself. “And now for the fun part,” he said, stepping closer.

Jessica sat on the edge of the bed, her posture relaxed, her lips curled into a knowing smile. Her eyes were fire, soaking in the chaos Jake caused with glee. 

“Finally,” she purred, her voice dripping with invitation. “I was wondering when you’d stop wasting time.”

Jake froze mid-step, caught off guard by her tone. “What?” he said, his bravado faltering for a split second.

Jessica tilted her head, her smile widening. “You heard me. Close the door. Let’s make this… interesting.”

[thecourtjester-e]

Do you have to let it linger? part 3

A/N: LFG ok this chapter is shorter because next chapter ya’ll… home stretch also I’m changing my formatting some I’m sorry I’m new to this yall.

CW: yearning, angst, arguing

Yesterday 2:00 am

Schlaggot made it home

3 missed calls

Schlaggot answer me bitch

5 missed calls

——-

A week later

You startle out of your dream from your phone hitting the floor and buzzing. You stir and try to slow your heart, blinding yourself with the phone screen.

Incoming call… Theodore

Accept Decline

————

“What?” You groan.

“You gotta tell me what happened,” a serious voice responds.

“What time is it?”

“4 am,” Ted responds plainly.

“Can it wait like 4 more hours?” You say putting it on speaker and laying the phone next to your pillow.

“No. Not a chance. I just got off the phone with a one Jonathan Schlatt, and I need to know now.”

“Ask him dude.”

“No man, I want to ask YOU.”

“Why though? you were just talking to him?”

“He was in a mood. I don’t like to pry when he gets like that, it just drives him away more.”

You could understand that. You knew what kind of mood he was referring to. When schlatt gets burnt out or depressed it’s totally shut off mode. When he’s done with something he’s DONE. He’s pretty candid with his surface feelings but there were deeper thoughts you knew he didn’t share with anyone.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Look y/n I know it’s not my business- no fuck that! These are my best friends, this is my business. Why haven’t you been answering calls or texts? total silence from you. Not just to schlatt but all of us,” as he points out the obvious, your tears break free towards your pillow. “What. Happened.” Ted demands now very sternly.

You explain to Ted how you and schlatt got hot and heavy too fast and you stopped him. How caring schlatt was, how understanding and supportive. How you’ve been trying to push your feelings for him away but you liked him more than he pretended to like you online to the audience. You realized you weren’t joking anymore and when schlatt said he wanted to remain friends you needed to put some distance. That meant total radio silence for a while to get over your feelings.

“I really do like him. And he just doesn’t feel the same. And I was stupid for thinking the joke could be real. I thought I was invincible to it and like I couldn’t fall for someone again but no. Here I am. I have feelings for a guy with fucking mutton chops,” you borderline yell at the end. You sigh after a couple beats of silence, “I’m glad we didn’t go further though cuz then I’d really feel like a fucking fool.” You weren’t crying anymore, just mad.

“Well, maybe you can explain this to Schlatt, so he doesn’t think you’re mad at him,” Ted says after a while.

“I am mad at him!” You pause hearing Ted’s confusion, “He just doesn’t know why… and I’m not really mad at him. Just upset? Ugh dude I don’t fucking know.” You shove your face in your pillow and scream.

“Well feel the feelings you need to, but I think if you care about schlatt you’ll tell him you just need space or like your goldfish died or something I don’t know, man. Just communicate.”

“Ok…” you say, sighing.

“I love you buddy. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Yeah I know, just sucks.”

“For what it’s worth, I do think Schlatt cares about you. I don’t know why he decided to friendzone you-“

“Ew don’t say that word.”

“Whatever. Come over this weekend let’s go do some shit and get you out of this funk,” He says wrapping up the call. Agreeing with Ted you hang up and pass out again.

——

You get up later in the morning and decide to stream today. You hadn’t streamed since the schlatt stream because you didn’t want to endure the bombardment of chat. It figures that you did an in person stream with Schlatt right before you guys established your relationship as friends so now the whole community thinks you guys are a thing. Of fucking course.

The week had been full of working out and going into the dance studio to work on dancing videos. you distracted yourself with coming up with new video ideas and choreo to do. You focused on the work that didn’t involve schlatt at all to help your creative flow.

You set up your piano, your computer, microphone, etc. putting your lights on and getting into the headspace. You hadn’t decided if you were going to do an album breakdown, just play some covers, or watch videos. You knew at the very least you could give them an update of upcoming projects.

As you set up the tweet, the “stream starting” screen, and messaged a couple mods, you grabbed your guitar and held it idly. You could feel the hesitation in your body. You felt heavy now trying to work up the courage and energy to turn the camera on. You hadn’t been particularly depressed about the whole situation, just numb. Seeing the chats roll through however started to form a brick in your throat. You finally sighed and pulled the trigger.

“Chat,” you started immediately, “no schlatt today. Let’s get that out of the way,” you gesture around the room. “So, I’ve been busy this week in the studio, I haven’t had a second to breathe.” (Lie) “and I want to give you guys 10 minutes to ask schlatt questions then we’re gonna move on,” you continue.

You start reading chat as you speak, “and after the ten minutes is up if you mention Schlatt you’re gonna be in a timeout the rest of the stream.”

what?????

Omfg you and schlatt are so cute

Hey y/n! where’s Schlatt?

Do you live with him now?

Are you guys dating?

Omg did something happen?

Why no schlatt

“Ok, Schlatt went home that same day we streamed, so no we don’t live together and no we aren’t dating. I don’t know what to tell you guys other than that Schlatt and I really are just friends,” you finish as the chats keep coming.

You feel your phone vibrate next to you and subtly look to see who it is.

Of course. Schlatt. calling again.

You put your phone on DND and keep reading the chats. As you read you get a couple TTS.

“Hey y/n, you and schlatt have great chemistry, do you have a crush on him? All the love!”

“Hey thanks oopygoopy, no I don’t have a crush on Schlatt.”

The next TTS

“Answer your phone bitch.”

Schlatt again. This time he donated to the stream.

You ignore him and message a mod to tell them to put him in time out for the rest of the stream while chat freaks out.

“Alright chat we’re gonna get started. I want to do an album review today…” you ignore chat and start up a new album to listen to with chat and discuss the themes and harmonies. You really just needed a couple more hours to figure out what to say to schlatt.

——

After 3 hours, an album review, and some keyboard breakdowns of the harmonies, you decide to wrap up the stream, “guys, I’m done. I’ll be on tomorrow with some covers and requests! Thank you for all the love, bye!”

You make sure the stream is shut down and pick up your phone.

4 missed calls

You click it to call schlatt back.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Connecting….

Schlatt’s ceiling pops up on screen.

“Hey.” You say after a couple moments of silence.

“Really?” You hear from off screen. “A week of nothing and you say hey?” You can hear him chewing on something.

“I’m sorry.”

Awkward silence, followed by rustling and chewing.

“JAMBO STOP,” more rustling. “JAMBOOOO”

The camera shifts, you can’t help but laugh. You stop yourself by leaning your mouth in your hand.

“So what’d I do?” He asks casually, his eyebrows come into frame.

“Nothing. It’s not you,” you start before he interrupts.

“No don’t fucking start with me. What did I do? You’re ignoring me.”

“To be fair I’ve been ignoring everyone.”

“Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’re not special,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Yes I am. Don’t fuck with me y/n.” He was joking around a little but you could tell he was genuinely hurt and pissed.

“I just needed some space. I think I've been a little burnt out is all.”

Silence. You shift uncomfortably as he continues to chew on the invisible food.

“Is it because I kissed you?” Schlatt says bluntly.

“No, just forget it dude.” you sigh and shake your head. It was hard to come up with an excuse other than just telling him about your feelings.

“Well everything was fine until after the wedding so-“

“Dude fucking drop it ok? I just need some space.”

“I’m sorry that I did that,” he says.

Silence this time with no chewing.

“It’s not about the kiss, schlatt.” You sighed, “I’m not sorry it happened. I wanted it to happen.” Your stomach churned and you felt your heart pumping in your ears.

“It was pretty hot,” schlatt finally scoffs.

“That’s not what I mean!”

“Spit it out then, toots.”

“I liked it, I've wanted you to kiss me for years. Because I have a big fat crush on you,” you spit out.

Silence, schlatt’s face mostly on screen at this point. He had a look of disbelief spread across it, his eyes darting all over the screen.

“You’re fucking with me?” He responds.

All you can do is shake your head.

“I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want this to ruin our friendship because I know you don’t feel the same. And I really care about our friendship more than my stupid crush on you. And I can’t keep enduring your fake flirting it fucking sucks,” your word vomit spilling out now. “And I thought if I put distance between us I could get over it and then we could just go back to being friends again.”

“You decided to ignore me? That’s not distance. You don’t fucking know how I feel, why would you assume-“ he stops himself and throws his phone down, his face disappears from the screen and you two sit in silence for a long time. “God you can be so stupid.” He says exasperated.

“Fucking whatever dude. I just figured I’d tell you the truth so you’d leave me the fuck alone. I gotta go.” You suddenly hang up before he can respond. You throw your phone down in anger. You were done being tortured in this way. It hurt. You didn’t know if it was the right choice to just tell him but it was out there now. You didn’t know how you wanted him to respond, but it wasn’t like that. He didn’t have to be such an asshole.

—-

He doesn’t text, he doesn’t call. You text Ted and tell him what happened and when he tries to call you don’t answer. It’s hard enough not to cry as it is, if you talk to Ted right now there’s no way you won’t.

You sit down with your guitar and start to idly play without thinking, you play linger by the cranberries. As you play your chest gets tight and your tears break free.

Oh, I thought the world of you

I thought nothing could go wrong

But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by

Trying not to lie

Things wouldn't be so confused

And I wouldn't feel so used

But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

You feel it all finally. You worked so hard to resist feeling feelings for someone for so long. Scared of what happened before. Having feelings for someone makes you weak and easier to break. You used music to express your feelings and tried to seal them off the rest of the time. This time they seeped out after the end of the song as you cried openly.

—-

For the past two weeks you streamed yourself doing covers, learning songs, or in the dance studio coming up with choreo. The feelings coming out in the art. You played covers of songs you and schlatt listened to on streams trying not to tear up. You let yourself feel a little more openly in front of the audience. They may have been catching on, but if they were you were good at ignoring them. In between streams you worked on recording videos, wrote lyrics and worked on some songs you had been working on for a while. It was a creatively productive time.

You had put schlatt’s messages and calls on silence, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t try to message you. You tried not to notice. Of course you noticed. You hoped maybe he would call and try to say sorry or fix what he had done but he hadn’t. It made you mad to be honest. You tried not to stalk his profiles to see what he was doing but he was silent for the most part on that end too.

Ted on the other hand was messaging constantly. Well as much as he could, he was working on a video and was distracted. Every night he would call though and chat even if he was just on call while editing. He was trying to be supportive. You appreciated how much Ted cared but didn’t overstep. When you initially told Ted what happened after the call he was confused. He didn’t understand why Schlatt reacted the way he did. You didn’t either to be fair. You did feel bad for ignoring him instead of communicating, but because of the way he reacted you felt justified in a way.

As Friday rolled around, and your stream was done for the day, you drove home from the dance studio to shower. You were feeling in high spirits for a change and stopped for food on your way home. When you got home you decided you were going to relax, watch tv, and just do some self care. You hadn’t been taking very good care of yourself and felt like doing your brows and a face mask might help. Maybe even do your nails. The night was young. You even decided to drink a little. As you bundled up under your blankets on the couch watching some comedy you heard a knock on your door.

You got off your couch and set down your drink. Before you walked to the door you inspected yourself. You had sweatpants and a tank top on, hair up and glasses on. You grab a zip up hoodie near the door and throw it on. Nothing fancy, but you figured you should cover up a little more.

As you made your way to the door you put your ear up to see if you could hear who it was, silence on the other end refused to betray the visitor so you slowly opened the door.

Schlatt standing in the hall looked at you sheepishly as you peered out. You suddenly swung the door open all the way to stare at the tall man in shock. He was wearing a crewneck, dark pants, and the classic cap. He had a duffel over his arm and headphones around his neck. Despite his towering height he was cowering.

“Hey.”

“Hey?” You questioned. “What are you doing here?” You asked plainly. Your heart speeding up nevertheless, you could feel the words getting caught in your throat as you spoke.

“Came to see you. Can I come in?”

[lookatthoseuselessgays]

A semi coherent rant abt Gojo’s outfits

You know how adult gojo, doesn’t wear casual things much? Like he’s always wearing the button down and slacks or the uniform? The time we’ve seen him in casual wear was when he was training with Megumi in that one scene, he’s still wearing jeans tho

that’s it. Even when Yuuji was living in his basement, we never see him out of the uniform. I know that I might be pushing it but it really seems intentional, we see him in his uniform for damn near all of his screen time pre-ch. 221, and my question was, Why?

My first though maybe it’s just him being dramatic, until I watched HI where he’s dressed casual all the time, he didn’t care then, when his ego was just as inflated as it is now!

so then I thought, huh, maybe I need to touch grass, (I do) but I chose not to, then it hit me. What happened between the uncaring outfits he’d put together pre-KFC breakup and his constantly put together self post-KFC breakup. He became alone (I’m sorry Shoko, you are a godsend and deserve better than this useless homosexual) and the saying became “I am the strongest,” not “we are the strongest.”

He needed to distance himself from people to complete all of the missions, to put a physical reminder in place that he is the strongest and that “when you die, you’ll be alone” yes that was a reminder to Megumi, but he has probably told himself this same thing over and over to himself after Geto defected.

clothes are a symbol of power and have been for the good part of all human civilization, now is no different. The fact he wears his uniform all the time is kind-of like a dog wearing a collar with the name and number of its owner on it. It’s dehumanizing. When he’s in formal wear, he looks like he’s part of high society, because he is. He wants to look above people, so he doesn’t get attached like he did with Geto.

does he regret the time he spent with Geto? Hell no! Does he feel guilt about all the innocent lives taken by Geto? Yes. Does he still love Geto as much as he loved him pre-HI? Hell yes, he just misses Geto to now.

in HI Gojo wears casual things all the time, the trunks in Okinawa and the white tee and sweats he definitely stole from Geto.

His uniform also matches with Geto, the difference is, he matches it with someone he believes to be his equal, his “one and only.” No he didn’t choose to wear the uniform itself, but he did choose to make him and Geto match. The fact both of them wear the uniforms shows the are both on the higher up’s leashes, something that Geto breaks away from by wearing the garb he does after he defects, while Gojo stays firmly planted because of the scene where Geto tells him not to kill the star religious group, he stays like a loyal dog, as Geto told him to do. He becomes the dog sitting by the fence, his leash still there but not tied, unmoving because he was told to stay. He does not run, he does not fight, he follows all the higher up’s orders, except the one to kill Geto. What shows that is in his uniform as an adult, he keeps the jacket the same from his youth, the one acknowledgement of the fact his collar says Geto’s name, not the higher up’s.

another thing abt the fact he almost is never casual post kfc is that he only wears casual clothing in front of Megumi, who is essentially his child. Not even in front of Yuji when he had the boy living in his house. Probably a sign of some trust issues that he has, or the fact he feels he needs to be detached from people, because he’s the strongest.

thank you for coming to my rant, please add things or correct me if I got something wrong! I love over analyzing the costuming choices in things I like, so expect that with the flow of utterly useless homosexuals 🤗

[anothersebastianblog]

Golden Globes ‘25 - win, hard launch, speech: some thoughts

So many things to say. Let’s start from the main event:

He finally won his first major award in Hollywood after winning his first important award last year. Awards are not just about acting, they are also about status, power and how good you are at promoting yourself. This is mainly why, ‘till they interviewed him before the ceremony (that gave me the feeling he was going to win lmao), i thought they had the insane idea to give it to Hugh Grant (or Glen Powell). Why losing the occasion to award someone iconic as Hugh? Thanks god they didn’t.

Sebastian’s performance was ABOVE the other 5. I hope the self proclaimed fans that think he is not good enough to be part of those 6 and that A24 bought his award, one day will understand that. Or, if they don’t, will leave the fandom and take their negativity and bullshits with them. Sebastian absolutely deserves his two awards for ADM, and we don’t like seeing your comments about how the movie is “boring”, “not well made”, “with too much screen time dedicated to Adam”. Shame on you.

He took this occasion to formally announce his relationship with Annabelle. It’s just a formality really, because wbk, literally lol. Nice to see it tho. Also because they looked amazing. Now, we know how he is: private, shy and work-focused. Exactly because of that, if you have been following him for a while, what happened yesterday should not have surprised you too much. Being an “old” fan or at least having seen/heard interviews/comments/etc made by him in the past should have made you realise two things mainly: 1) he changed (and matured) a lot after (i would personally assume) the death of his father + turning 40 + having more career opportunities, i have been saying this for at least 2 yrs!; 2) he knows he is there receiving that award thanks not only to himself but also to the people of his circle/family. He literally told us how important Annabelle has been during the time he filmed TA, especially: he admitted being selfish and sacrificing the time he could have spent with his loved ones to study and practice for that role. Not every partner would have tolerated that. She did. And she supported both movies since day one. We call it support, someone call it baiting. He evidently agrees with us.

So, don’t act too surprised (a bit it’s okay lol) if he brings one of the most important person of his life and the only person he loves (in *that* sense) with him, pose with her and publicly declare his love in front of everyone in his speech. A great one btw.

She deserves to be recognised but i am sure she doesn’t pretend to be.

Now some new year wishes, that as every new year wishes are too pretentious and too out of reach: i wish some people would stop pretending to be his fans, i wish they would leave the fandom and find help or at least a new hobby, i wish the accuse of not being enough, to have sold his soul to evil CAA, to be forced to act in a certain way would stop immediately, i wish ANY negative comments about Annabelle would stop immediately, especially the ones about her age, her body and her reproductive system 👍🏼

I wish many other days a joyful as last night was.

Cheers 🥂

[wenella]

Seeking Zhu Yilong

EN translation of Zhu Yilong X Marie Clarie Jan 2025 Cover Issue Feature Interview by wenella

The search for “Zhu Yilong” started after Dongji Island wrapped.

Zhu Yilong’s 7-month life on the set ended at night. When Zhu Yilong finished his last scene underwater that night, his body was filled with the character’s emotions, and he was overwhelmed by fatigue. He didn’t come back to his senses even when he heard the director yelled, “it’s a wrap!” It was not until the director jumped into the water to celebrate with him that he felt a huge sense of relief. It was finally time to say goodbye to his role Luo Xiao.

Zhu Yilong's role in the movie "Dongji Island" required him to perform many scenes underwater. He had to perform actions and deliver emotions while going with the flow of the water and ensuring that he did not choke. This is his toughest role so far.

Over the past decade, Zhu Yilong has played a variety of characters. His career is akin to a life simulation game; he levels up by collecting different characters. Once the camera rolls, he can be anyone, except Zhu Yilong. After leveling up, he quickly turns back into Zhu Yilong and doesn’t linger in the lives of others.

Zhu Yilong often jokes that he will get "sick" after each film. Once he wraps, it is as though all the taut strings in his body suddenly loosen and his only desire is to lie down and do nothing. This time, Zhu Yilong returned to Beijing and rested at home for a few days. In the past, he always looked forward to diving, swimming, or relaxing by the beach during his break. "I think I swam enough for Dongji Island this time.  I don't want to (go to the beach) for the time being, I just want to rest."

In the past, Zhu Yilong could separate himself from his role after wrapping by changing his clothes or getting a haircut. However, over the past year, he has found it increasingly difficult to remove the lingering traces of his characters on him. These traces remain in him even though he has bid farewell to his role, and it is harder to discern how Zhu Yilong should be like anymore. What does it mean to return to being himself? What does it even mean to be himself? The boundaries start to blur.

Searching for himself

Zhu Yilong lived in Qingshan District, Wuhan, when he was a child. In the area, there was an important cultural venue named Red Flag Theater where many art performances and activities were held. The Theater was converted into an ice rink in the late 1990s and was subsequently demolished to make way for a housing community.

The place holds the childhood memories of a generation of Qingshan residents - the billiards next to the theater cost 50 cents a shot; children always gathered at the video game machines near the theater; the aroma of skewers at the entrance of the theater lingers even after many years. When Zhu Yilong was in elementary school, the school often took students to the Red Flag Theater for movies. The Theatre was like a time travel box that transported children to the past and the future. They got to see the outside world through this theatre.

Besides the theater, open-air movies were often shown on the university campus near Zhu Yilong's home. In the evening, he often ran over to the field with his grandmother's braised chicken feet, sat down with others, and feasted on the chicken feet while immersing himself in the movie. "I was easily drawn into the stories and I believed in what happened in those scenes." Little did Zhu Yilong know that he would grow up to become a storyteller and a character on the big screen.

Zhu Yilong started to watch many movies after he was admitted to the Beijing Film Academy. He learnt about the world through movies and developed a stronger connection with the world. There is a park called Xiaoyue River next to the Beijing Film Academy, where many students practiced their skills secretly. Students usually did morning practice exercises on campus, but if they didn’t want others to see them working so hard, they would get up earlier and go to Xiaoyue River to practice their vocals.

Zhu Yilong found this rather amusing as he recalled the past. “When we were in college, working hard seemed like a shameful thing. Everyone wanted to perform well on stage but didn’t want to appear too hardworking – oh wait, he doesn’t practice martial arts, how can he be so good at it?! – Everyone hoped that they were like this, but in fact they were all practicing their skills secretly.”

Today, Zhu Yilong is no longer ashamed to talk about his efforts. It takes a lot of energy to create a role and he always strives for the best each time he shoots a scene. From the first day he stepped out of school, he demanded himself to do his best in all his performances. Whatever he could give at that moment would be his best. Even if he sees mediocre acting while rewatching his previous works, he will not think of how he can improve that scene as he knows that he had already tried his best at that moment.

After becoming an actor, Zhu Yilong gradually discovered that filming is a constant process of self-exploration and that he didn't know himself as well as he thought he did. "Even if the role is very different from yourself, it is impossible to create a character out of thin air; you can't completely turn yourself into another person. You need to dig within yourself to create the role and sometimes, you will discover that you can leverage something that you think you don't originally have. Through this process, you gradually become unsure of who you really are."

In the past, watching movies was about getting to know the world. Now, making movies is about finding himself.

Immune Response

Every time Zhu Yilong creates a character, he gets very anxious and takes a long time to prepare for his role. He creates different possibilities for his character, sets high standards and tries his best to achieve them. He regards this anxiety as a type of “immune response,” which is the inevitable result of entering a new role. In his opinion, integrating himself with a new character will trigger such an immune response. There is no need to relieve the anxiety when it occurs as it is impossible to get rid of it anyway. Rather than thinking about how to relieve the anxiety, it will be more useful to face it, feel it, and adapt to it.

Besides, people will feel anxious at any stage of their life. Zhu Yilong recalled a moment when he was 27 or 28 years old. He was suddenly seized by anxiety one night and thought: I’m almost 30 years old, what can I shoot in the future? I want to make films, but there’s no opportunity. When he gathers with his friends these days, people tend to talk about their recent situation, thoughts, and issues they are worried about.

He allows anxiety to come naturally as he knows that there will be a moment when it fades out. No one knows how long the anxiety will last, but there will come a day when he suddenly realizes that acting can be effortless - there’s no need to think about where the camera is, when to pause in a sentence, or whether to look left or right. All “immune responses” will disappear once he is completely relaxed and everything he does will feel right. At this moment, he knows that he has connected with his character.

But there comes a risk after he makes that connection between reality and imagination. In recent years, there were several occasions when he couldn't tell if everything before him was real or fake. Sometimes, after he finished a scene, he would realize that the scene was identical to the scene that appeared in his brain when he was resting. At this moment, he is unsure if everything that happened was real or simply part of his imagination.

Zhu Yilong has read many stories about "acting maniacs" and used to envy the way they eat, sleep, and breath acting. Nonetheless, he knows that it will be difficult to do so with his personality. To him, the film set is a microcosm of society. If an actor completely transforms himself into the role that he plays, it may be difficult for him to consider the feelings of the people around him and may even become unreasonable and inconsiderate.

It is impossible for Zhu Yilong to completely ignore the feelings of others. On the set, he is always quickly to sense changes in people's emotions. He hopes that the atmosphere on the set is harmonious, comfortable, and relaxed. Everyone is free to express themselves and offer ideas without worrying about judgement. He doesn't want everyone to be so uptight all the time as he finds it difficult to work in such tense environments. Therefore, he will try his best to control himself, devote himself fully to the role and follow the character's developmental trajectory. However, once the director shouts "cut", he will immediately return to being himself.

Nonetheless, he has also tried to change in recent years. He tries to integrate himself with his role as much as possible without affecting the work of others and strives to release his full potential during filming. Even after the director shouts "cut," he does not withdraw himself from the role immediately as before and does not seek to revert to “Zhu Yilong” deliberately.

Zhu Yilong is trying to find a balance between his roles and himself, as well as between performance and life.

Sweet Moments

Zhu Yilong has been in love with basketball and Michael Jordan since young. This iconic figure in basketball history has created countless moments by controlling the court with his superb skills and frustrating his opponents. If Michael Jordan had to cheer himself on during an important game, one of the tactics he used was to magnify the opponent's contempt for him – it might just be a glance, but he would take it as hostility to gear himself up. Zhu Yilong found this method useful for actors. "For example, if you need a certain emotion at a specific moment, it might be more effective to capture the emotion and magnify it within yourself, rather than simply using your imagination. This way, you will not only own the emotion, but also avoid disturbing others.”

Zhu Yilong’s views about acting are constantly evolving as he accumulates acting experiences over the years. He keeps thinking about how to improve and often hopes to enhance his acting with a stroke of genius. But where does this stroke of genius come from? Are there new ways to act?

After each take, Zhu Yilong will observe everyone's reactions and feel the atmosphere subconsciously. "Sometimes, you get a strong feeling after you finish a take. If the take is good, the whole atmosphere will feel right. Conversely, the atmosphere will not feel right if it was a bad take." Sometimes, when he isn’t sure if he is reading too much into the atmosphere, he will ask the director: is it okay? Is it really okay? He communicates with the director constantly and brainstorms ways to improve the scene. “There is no way to tell what kind of performance is the best. You can always do a better job, but you don't know what the best is. In such cases, we will need the director to make a judgement. If he feels that he has everything he wants, that's it."

There are occasional moments, which are oblivious to others, when Zhu Yilong feels immensely pleased and satisfied by his own performance. It is akin to a golf player hitting a sweet spot that sends the ball travelling far and straight. Zhu Yilong feels that his performance hit the sweet spot when his emotions and reactions are on point and impeccable. These moments do not occur frequently but he always looks forward to such moments each time he goes to the set.  

New Roadmap

Besides these moments, Zhu Yilong also shuts down for some time each year and allow himself to relax. The duration of his break is highly contingent. Sometimes, he may have planned to rest for half a year, but he tries to find something to do after resting for just a week. It also depends on fate. He may have planned to rest for 3 months. But if he suddenly encounters a script that he really likes, he will get back to work immediately.

He doesn’t deliberately plan for the future. He has a clear idea of what a good actor should be and works towards this goal while picking scripts that he wants to shoot. He does not consider factors such as box office and awards. After all, filming is highly time consuming, “if I can’t work on projects that I’m interested in, it will be so unbearable.”

A reporter once asked him: if he could pick a special ability, what would it be? His answer at that time was to stop time. Now, he feels that he really needs this special ability. Time seems to fly whenever he is working, especially in recent years. In the past, he would think that a 3-month filming period with a hectic schedule and tough preparatory work was unbearable. Now, he feels that a few months happen in a blink of an eye. Some moments happen so quickly that he doesn’t have sufficient time to feel them properly. Sometimes, he really hopes that he can stop time to enjoy these fleeting moments before moving on. After all, the journey of exploring himself has just begun.

He looks forward to the future, though he isn’t exactly sure what to anticipate. Regardless, the journey of seeking Zhu Yilong has changed its trajectory. He is no longer obsessed with recovering his known self; rather, he is more interested in uncovering the hidden possibilities within himself. He has a new roadmap on hand, and the terrain ahead is unknown; he is ready to embark on this new journey to fully experience life as Zhu Yilong.

**THE END**

Post-translation note: Post-translation note: This interview gives SO MUCH updated insight into Zhu Yilong's views on acting. Really looking forward to his new role as Luo Xiao in Dongji Island. Can't imagine the number of underwater scenes he filmed for him to avoid the sea/beach temporarily.

If you'd like to translate this into other languages, please drop me a DM + credit by linking this thread. Happy reading and good night.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Across the Ropes.. a Zilla Fatu x Oc fanfic.

Chapter 3: Pink...

Zilla sat on the edge of the bed, the alcohol in his system clouding his thoughts, making everything feel like a distant fog. He could hear the laughter of his cousins in the hallway as they joked and talked, but all he could think about was the weight of what had just happened. The night had spiraled out of control, and now, his mind was reeling from the guilt, the realization of what he’d done, and the distance he had put between himself and Dahlia.

He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table and, without much thought, tapped on Dahlia’s contact. He needed to hear her voice, to try and fix this, even if it was late and he was drunk. The phone rang a few times before Dahlia’s face appeared on the screen, her soft features illuminated by the dim lighting of what looked like a break room at the hospital.

“Hey, honey,” she said, a warm smile on her face despite the exhaustion in her eyes. Her scrubs gave away that she was on her night shift, but she still looked beautiful. Zilla’s heart sank.

“Hey,” Zilla slurred, a small smile forming on his face. “I did a booboo tonight…”

Dahlia’s smile faltered slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. “What’s up, babe?” she asked, her tone steady, though Zilla could sense a hint of concern.

Zilla’s heart pounded as he spoke, the alcohol loosening his tongue, but also muddling his words. “I… Zilla may have danced with Jaida Parker tonight,” he said slowly, trying to find the right words, but still feeling a mix of regret and embarrassment. “But… Isayah was thinking about you the whole time. The whole time, Dahlia.”

He waited for her response, but there was a long pause. Dahlia stayed silent, her face unreadable, and Zilla could tell something had shifted in her demeanor. She let out a long, weary sigh. It was a sigh that told him she was trying to hold it together. The sight of her like that made his chest tighten.

“I have to go back from break,” Dahlia said, her voice now tinged with something he couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just message you in the morning.”

“No, wait, Dahlia…” Zilla’s words were rushed as he reached forward, almost dropping his phone in his desperation. “I miss you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”

Dahlia’s eyes softened, but her lips pressed together in a tight line. “I’ll just message you in the morning, okay?” she repeated, her voice calm, but there was a coldness to it now. Something had changed. Something inside her had shifted. Before Zilla could say anything else, she hung up.

The screen went black, and Zilla stared at it, the weight of her words sinking in, even though they were few. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sharp sting of regret. He had messed up—badly. In his attempt to justify his actions and the distance between them, he’d only made it worse. And now, it felt like the very thing he had been trying to avoid—the emotional disconnect—had finally come to the surface.

He leaned back against the bed, the room spinning slightly. His mind raced with thoughts of Dahlia, of how he had taken her for granted, and how his drunken night had shattered whatever trust they had started to build. He didn’t know how to fix it. All he knew was that he needed her, and somehow, he had pushed her away.

Zilla closed his eyes and sighed, the reality of the situation heavy on his shoulders. It wasn’t just a mistake—this was the start of something much deeper, and he wasn’t sure if he could come back from it. He had to find a way, but first, he had to sober up.

“Damn,” he whispered to himself. “What have I done?”

After Dahlia got off the phone with Zilla, the weight of everything hit her all at once. The hurt, the confusion, the deep questioning of herself, and the growing doubt about whether she was cut out for a long-distance relationship. Her mind raced, the swirling thoughts making it impossible to focus on anything for too long. Her emotions were all over the place—angry, sad, hurt—but above all, she felt a quiet ache in her chest that was hard to ignore.

Before she even knew what had happened, Dr. Patel’s voice echoed through her thoughts. “Dahlia? Dahlia?” He called out her name, but she was so lost in her own head that it sounded distant, muffled. The next thing she knew, the room began to spin violently, and she collapsed, the world around her fading to black.

Dr. Patel rushed to her side as her body crumpled, his voice urgent as he called for a nurse. His hand gently pressed against her shoulder, trying to rouse her as she slipped into unconsciousness. The nurse arrived quickly, assisting him in stabilizing Dahlia as they moved her to a more comfortable position. They monitored her closely, working to keep her calm while they ran a few tests.

A few hours later, Dahlia slowly began to regain consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and the harsh, bright lights of the hospital room made her squint. She looked around, disoriented, her mind still cloudy from the sudden blackout. She realized she was still in her scrubs, lying in a hospital bed. An IV was hooked up to her, and she could feel the gentle tug of the needle in her arm. The sterile smell of the hospital and the soft beeping of machines filled the air.

She sat up slowly, trying to clear the fog from her head. Just as she was trying to gather her thoughts, a passing nurse noticed her stirring. “Excuse me,” Dahlia said softly, her voice a little shaky. The nurse stopped and looked at her, her expression softening as she saw Dahlia’s concerned face.

“I’ll go get Dr. Patel,” the nurse said before quickly exiting the room.

Dahlia sat back against the pillow, her mind still spinning. She could feel the exhaustion in her body, the physical toll that the last few hours had taken on her. She tried to shake off the haze clouding her thoughts, but it lingered.

Not long after, Dr. Patel entered the room, his usual calm demeanor in place, though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes when he saw how pale Dahlia looked. “Hey, how are you, sleepyhead?” he asked with a warm smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Dahlia let out a small laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Patel. I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I just… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t apologize,” he replied, dismissing her worries. “It’s more common than you think. Stress, lack of sleep, it all adds up, and sometimes your body needs a reset. But I’m glad to see you awake.” He checked her vitals on the clipboard, then turned back to her, his expression shifting slightly. “So, when were you going to tell me the good news?”

Dahlia blinked, confused. “Good news?” she echoed, not sure where he was going with this.

Dr. Patel glanced down at his clipboard and tapped it with his pen. “According to your latest test results, you’re about 8 to 9 weeks along.” He looked at her intently, watching for her reaction. “And by the way, you never scheduled your ultrasound. You know delivering babies is my specialty, right?”

Dahlia’s heart skipped a beat. The words hit her like a freight train. “Wait, what?” she said, her voice shaky. “I—I’m pregnant?”

Dr. Patel nodded, his tone gentle but matter-of-fact. “Yes, it seems so. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed the symptoms yourself, but your body has been under a lot of stress recently, which could be affecting your energy levels. But congratulations, Dahlia, this is a big step.”

The room felt like it was spinning again, but this time it wasn’t from fainting. Dahlia’s mind raced to catch up. Pregnant? How could this be possible? Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt like the ground beneath her was shifting, as though the entire world was changing with just those few words. She couldn’t process it all at once. It was too much.

“I—I had no idea,” Dahlia whispered, her hands trembling as she touched her stomach, almost as if to confirm the words Dr. Patel had said. “Zilla… he doesn’t know.”

Dr. Patel offered her a reassuring smile. “That’s something you’ll need to talk to him about when you’re ready. But first, let’s make sure you’re physically okay. I’d like to schedule an ultrasound soon, just to be sure everything’s progressing well.” He patted her hand comfortingly. “I’m sure you’ll be a great mom.”

Dahlia nodded, feeling overwhelmed by the news. She didn’t know what the future held now, or how she would even begin to navigate this new chapter. But deep down, she knew that everything had just changed. There were decisions ahead that would shape the rest of her life, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready. But one thing was certain—she had to take it one step at a time… or was it certain?

As Dr. Patel discharged Dahlia, he gently reminded her to take the rest of the week off to rest and recover. “Take it easy, Dahlia,” he said. “No stress. Your body needs time to adjust.”

Dahlia nodded absently, barely processing his words as she made her way out of the hospital. The cool air hit her as she stepped outside, but it didn’t do much to clear the fog in her mind. She barely noticed the shuttle that came to pick her up, her thoughts still tangled from the shock of the morning’s events. She sat in the back, eyes unfocused, staring out of the window as the world passed by in a blur.

The reality of Dr. Patel’s words sank in slowly. She was pregnant. The weight of it pressed on her chest as she tried to make sense of it all. Her mind spiraled back to the last time she and Zilla were together, their time in his hotel room, the soft conversation, the laughter, the intimacy. It had been perfect… at least, that’s what she thought. But now, with the reality of pregnancy looming over her, the tiny details from that night started to gnaw at her.

Did the condom break?

Her stomach churned at the thought. She hadn’t worried about it. Not that much, anyway. She had trusted it, trusted Zilla. But now, she wasn’t so sure. Was it even possible?

“Are you comfortable with me?”

“Yes.. I want to go further..”

“I have a condom in my wallet, gimme’ a sec’..”

The shuttle came to a stop, and Dahlia snapped out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, standing and adjusting her bag before making her way to the door. She had to get back to her dorm. The anxiety of it all threatened to suffocate her, but she forced herself to focus, to walk slowly up the steps and into the dorm building.

“You never had no one eat you out before?”

“I just don’t get to that part..”

“Well they missing out cause you taste so fucking sweet..”

“Oh my… fuck.. oh god..”

“Keep moaning babygirl… that’s all you..”

Once inside her room, the familiar surroundings offered no comfort. Dahlia dropped her bag beside her desk and collapsed onto her bed. Her mind raced as she stared at the ceiling, trying to calm the storm inside her.

“No way the condom could’ve broken… could it?” she whispered to herself, barely believing the words. It was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just.. mmph.. you’re so big..”

“I haven’t even got past the tip and you’re already complaining..”

“I just haven’t had that big before..”

“I’ll go slow okay..”

She closed her eyes, replaying the events of that night over and over again, trying to piece things together. It had all started so simply, with the seminar at the university. Zilla had caught her eye with his confidence, his quiet strength. After the talk, they’d ended up at Agora, just two people talking, laughing. The connection had been instant, and it felt like they’d known each other for years. After that, they’d gone to the burger bar and shared a meal, then back to her dorm.

“It’s starting to feel good..”

“You weren’t kidding.. I’m filling you up real good right now..”

“More.. fuck.. more..”

“God you’re so fucking beautiful..”

It had felt right, like a perfect evening, the kind she’d never imagined having with someone like him. But now, with everything that had happened, it felt like a dream. The night had been so much more than she’d anticipated, more than she was prepared for, and now, here she was, in the quiet of her dorm room, dealing with the aftermath.

“Don’t stop..”

“You’re so fucking tight..”

Dahlia sat up, pulling her knees to her chest as the thought circled in her mind. Could it have happened that fast?

The question wouldn’t leave her, no matter how many times she asked it. She thought about how careful they had been, how they’d made sure everything was protected.

She couldn’t shake the unease that now bubbled up inside her. She’d been so certain about everything, about him, about them… and now this.

“Call me daddy..”

“Daddy.. fuck… fuck me harder daddy..”

“A fucking natural.. look at you..”

As she sat there on her bed, the truth settled around her. She was pregnant.

But the other truth, the secret she had never told Zilla, weighed heavily on her heart. The part of her that she had kept hidden, even from him, was now a significant part of the puzzle.

Dahlia had never been with anyone before Zilla.

She was a virgin.

“How are you this tight?”

“Keep going please..”

The thought felt so strange to admit, even to herself. But now it felt like a piece of the puzzle clicking into place. She had kept that part of her identity to herself because she didn’t want anyone to judge her, didn’t want to feel like she was somehow less than others because of it. Zilla had been the first, and now, the consequence of that night was staring her in the face.

What was she going to do?

“I feel .. I fee—.. fuck.. something’s happening..”

“Cum with me babygirl..”

Her mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each more overwhelming than the last. She wanted to talk to Zilla, but how? How could she tell him the truth about everything? She didn’t even fully understand it herself yet.

But one thing was certain: Dahlia had never felt more alone in her life.

—

Zilla awoke with a pounding headache, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in his system. His body felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. The faint memories of dancing, the laughter, Jaida’s face, all blurred in a haze. But one thing was clear: the regret.

He rubbed his temples, his mind racing as the weight of his actions hit him all at once. What the hell did I do?

Without thinking, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and dialed Dahlia’s number, his heart pounding in his chest.

The phone rang, and when she finally picked up, Zilla barely knew what to say.

“Hey… uhh… how are you?” he asked, his voice sounding off, unsure, almost nervous.

“I’m fine,” Dahlia’s voice came through, calm but distant, like she was holding something back.

“I was an asshole,” Zilla said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “I’m sorry, Dahlia. I messed up.”

There was a long pause on the other end, and Zilla felt his stomach twist. He couldn’t quite figure out how she was taking it, but he could feel the distance between them.

Dahlia finally spoke again, her tone even, but with an edge that cut through the air. “We might have something to discuss.”

Zilla’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”

Dahlia sighed softly, her voice tinged with something Zilla couldn’t place. “Well, if I can… would you let me fly to the next city to come see you?”

Zilla sat up, rubbing his forehead as he processed her words. “I’m supposed to be going to France for Backlash on Tuesday after RAW,” he said, a frown forming. “But I mean… is it that serious we need to speak in person?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Dahlia responded, her voice quieter now. “Yes. It’s serious. I’ll make arrangements, and I’ll see you in Portland.”

Zilla’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, the RAW is in Portland,” he said, the realization hitting him. “Alright… I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll let you know,” Dahlia replied, her words measured.

Zilla could feel the tension hanging in the air, thick and unresolved. “Wait…” he said before she could hang up. “Do you forgive me?”

Dahlia didn’t answer right away. Zilla could hear her breathing, the hesitation in the pause before she spoke again.

“I’ll see you in Portland,” she finally said, her tone a little softer, but the distance still there.

And before Zilla could say anything else, the line went dead.

He stared at the phone for a moment, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. What did that mean?

The quiet of his hotel room seemed deafening, and for the first time in a long while, Zilla felt truly alone. He had made a mistake—no, a series of mistakes—and now it was up to him to fix it. But would Dahlia give him that chance?

He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the situation starting to settle in. The reality of what he had done, how he had hurt Dahlia, was hitting him hard. But there was nothing he could do now except wait.

He just hoped that when Dahlia did show up in Portland, it wouldn’t be the end of everything.

—

Sunday, May 4th, 2025. 3:14 PM

Zilla stood by the terminal at Portland International Airport, nervously scanning the crowd. His heart pounded as he waited for Dahlia to arrive. The moment he saw her walking through the gates, a mix of relief and anxiety hit him. She looked beautiful, but there was something different about her—something was off. The way she carried her bag, the tightness in her posture, told him that something wasn’t right.

Dahlia spotted him from across the terminal, her eyes locking with his. Zilla smiled, but the smile faltered when she didn’t reciprocate.

As she approached, Zilla held out his arms for a hug, hoping for some kind of warmth between them. But when they embraced, Dahlia’s arms didn’t wrap around him. She simply stood there, stiff, her body tense against his.

Zilla pulled back slightly, trying to gauge her mood. “There’s a bunch of taxis waiting,” he said, his voice laced with nervous energy. “We should probably get going.”

Dahlia nodded silently, not offering anything else. The ride to the hotel was awkward and heavy with silence. Zilla tried to make small talk, but Dahlia’s responses were brief and emotionless. The minutes stretched on endlessly, each one more excruciating than the last.

When they arrived at the Ritz Carlton, the silence continued. They walked into the hotel, and the check-in process felt just as tense. Zilla’s attempts at casual conversation went ignored as Dahlia stayed silent, her gaze fixed ahead, never meeting his eyes.

Once they were in the room, Zilla sat down on the bed, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say, but unsure of how to start. He glanced at Dahlia, who was standing near the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked distant, cold, and it made Zilla’s heart drop into his stomach.

“So,” Dahlia finally spoke, her voice quiet and measured, “why are you on RAW? I thought you wrestled for Smackdown.”

Zilla blinked, caught off guard by the question. He ran a hand through his hair before answering. “We have brand invasion. I’m leading team Smackdown.”

Dahlia barely reacted, her eyes still trained on the window. “Oh,” she said, her tone flat, as though it didn’t matter.

The silence returned, and Zilla felt the weight of the room press down on him. This wasn’t how he imagined this meeting going. He had hoped for a chance to explain himself, to apologize properly, but instead, Dahlia seemed miles away—both physically and emotionally.

Zilla shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to think of something else to say, but the words didn’t come. He knew he had messed up, but right now, all he could do was wait for her to speak, hoping she would say something that would open the door for them to start fixing what was broken.

The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating. Dahlia sat across from him, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap as the silence grew longer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but no words came. He didn’t know how to break the ice, how to make things better. All he knew was that things had already changed, and there was no turning back.

He tried to think of something—anything—to spark a conversation, but his mind was clouded, his emotions too jumbled to form a coherent thought. Finally, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, desperate to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“My cousin’s wife is a writer,” Zilla said. “She’s really putting my whole Samoan King gimmick out there.” He watched Dahlia’s reaction, hoping it would lead to something—some kind of interaction to break the tension.

Dahlia’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Yeah, the Rhea Ripley girl?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Zilla replied, nodding. “My cousin Jey married her in Vegas just before Wrestlemania 41.”

Dahlia’s face softened slightly as she nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that. Apparently, someone went into labor at the Hall of Fame ceremony.”

Zilla chuckled. “Yeah, my other cousin Jon and his wife, Trinity, welcomed twins that night.”

Dahlia gave a small smile. “That’s cool.”

The silence settled in again, an uncomfortable weight hanging between them. Zilla glanced at her, but she seemed lost in thought, her eyes downcast. The quiet seemed to stretch on for ages, neither of them sure what to say next.

Finally, Dahlia broke the silence, her voice hesitant but firm. “I heard that Rhea person is also pregnant?”

Zilla nodded slowly. “Yeah… my cousin Jey is about to be a father again at 40.”

Dahlia’s lips twisted in thought, and then she spoke again, her tone almost distant. “It’s weird… pregnancy… how it can change things.”

Zilla’s gaze met hers, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “My cousin Jey said it brought him and Rhea closer.”

Dahlia’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of cynicism creeping into her voice. “Yeah, but that’s once in a lifetime. Babies don’t always fix relationships.”

Zilla hesitated, sensing the weight behind her words, the layers of complexity in her tone. He shifted on the bed, his mind racing for something to say that might break the distance between them.

“What did you want to tell me?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dahlia didn’t answer right away. Instead, she opened her carry-on bag, her hands trembling slightly as she pulled out a stack of papers. Zilla’s heart rate quickened as she handed them to him, and he took them, glancing down at the top sheet. He saw the word Pregnant written across the top in bold letters.

Zilla’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes shot up to meet Dahlia’s, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

“How did this happen?” he asked, his voice tight with a mix of confusion and concern.

Dahlia took a deep breath, her face flushed with a mix of anger and shame. “I think the condom broke that night,” she said, her voice low, almost apologetic.

Zilla stared at her, his brow furrowing. He wasn’t sure how to react. His mind raced with a thousand questions, but one stuck out more than the others.

“I’m meaning no disrespect,” he said, his voice uncertain. “But are you sure it’s mine?”

Dahlia scoffed, a sharp laugh escaping her lips as she shook her head. “For your fucking information, I was a virgin.”

Zilla froze, his eyes wide in shock. He had no words. This wasn’t the direction he’d expected the conversation to go, and it left him speechless.

Then, as if trying to deflect the awkwardness, Zilla shifted slightly on the bed, trying to make light of the situation. “Well, I guess that explains the tightness,” he said, attempting a weak joke.

Dahlia rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. The silence returned, heavier than before. Neither of them spoke. Zilla didn’t know how to move forward. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t find the right words, and the weight of the situation felt like it was slowly suffocating him. What was he supposed to say? What could he say to make this better? To make it right?

Dahlia’s gaze never left him, but she didn’t speak either. The room was silent, filled only with the unspoken tension between them. Zilla remained motionless, the papers still in his hands, his thoughts scattered and fragmented.

Finally, Dahlia broke the silence once more, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Isayah. I didn’t know what to do.”

Zilla swallowed hard, still at a loss for words. What could he say? Everything felt so overwhelming, so sudden. He glanced down at the papers in his hands, at the undeniable reality of what was happening.

But still, there was nothing he could say. Nothing that felt right.

Before they knew it, the day had slipped away, and the sun had long since set. The room, once filled with the tension of unspoken words, had now grown quiet and heavy with the weight of what was to come.

Zilla sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on the door as if expecting something—anything—to happen. Anything to break the silence, to break the unbearable stillness that stretched between them. Dahlia, sitting on the opposite side of the room, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Her hands were clasped together tightly, her eyes downcast, and her shoulders slightly hunched, as if she were trying to shrink into herself.

Time seemed to slow. Zilla’s mind was racing, but no matter how much he tried to focus, he couldn’t quiet the storm inside. The silence was suffocating. It was so thick, it felt like it was closing in on him.

Then, the quiet was broken—not by words, but by the soft sound of Dahlia’s breath hitching. Zilla glanced over at her, his gaze drawn to the way her shoulders trembled ever so slightly, and that’s when he saw the first tear slip down her cheek. It was the smallest of movements, but it hit Zilla like a punch to the gut.

Before he could even think, he was up and across the room, kneeling beside her, pulling her into his arms.

Dahlia didn’t resist. She melted against him, burying her face in his chest as her sobs grew louder. Her body shook with the force of it, and Zilla’s heart ached for her. He held her tightly, trying to provide whatever comfort he could, though he wasn’t sure how. He wasn’t sure what either of them needed right now.

“I’m being honest when I say this,” Dahlia managed to choke out between sobs, her voice breaking. “I’m so fucking scared.”

Zilla didn’t know what to say at first. He felt the fear creeping up on him too, the gnawing uncertainty about everything—the baby, their future, how to fix the mess they had found themselves in. But all he could do was hold her tighter, his own chest tightening with a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle.

“I am too,” he whispered, his voice low and raw.

The truth of his words hung in the air between them, unspoken fears now shared, no longer isolated.

Zilla’s thoughts drifted for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think of his family—his mother, his brothers—what they would say. His mom, the woman who had raised him, had always been the strong one, the one who knew exactly what to do, even when things seemed impossible. What would she say about this situation? Would she be disappointed in him? Would she think he was messing up his life in ways he couldn’t undo?

Zilla’s chest tightened at the thought. He never wanted to disappoint them, but what about Dahlia? What about the situation they were facing now? Would they ever understand how it felt to be in his shoes, to be so lost in the unknown? To have no clue how to make it all right?

He pulled Dahlia back slightly, just enough to see her face, his hand gently wiping away the tears on her cheeks. She met his eyes, her gaze filled with vulnerability and fear—so much fear.

“You don’t have to be scared, Dahlia,” Zilla said softly, his voice steadying, even though his own heart was a mess. “I’m here. Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”

She shook her head, but there was no defiance in it. Just a weariness that Zilla recognized all too well. He cupped her face gently, as if trying to hold her together with the touch.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But we can try..”

Dahlia closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath, as if trying to absorb his words. But even as she nodded, Zilla could see the uncertainty still lingering in her eyes.

The room was quiet again, the weight of the situation pressing in on both of them. But for a moment, at least, they had each other. The fear didn’t disappear, but it was a little less daunting now that they had both spoken it aloud. The shared vulnerability was a strange comfort.

Zilla sat back against the bed, pulling Dahlia with him. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they both stared at the wall, each lost in their own thoughts.

The silence was no longer oppressive, but it was still heavy. And neither of them knew what the future held. But for now, that was okay. They didn’t need answers right this second. They just needed to survive the night, to take one step at a time.

And for the first time in a long while, Zilla felt like he wasn’t alone in that fear.

9:12 PM

Zilla leaned back in the lounger, his gaze locked on the sprawling Portland skyline. The lights blurred together, and his mind raced. Dahlia’s soft breathing in the room behind him was a reminder of how delicate everything felt right now. She had cried herself to sleep, her shoulders trembling even in her dreams. He couldn’t shake the image of her face, the fear in her eyes. And now, he was left to figure out what came next.

He had never pictured himself as a father, not like this—not now. Not with Dahlia. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about her, but the timing was off. A date, a week together, and now this. A pregnancy. Their connection had been undeniable, sure, but the reality of a child? That was a whole different ballgame. They were barely transitioning into a relationship. Was he ready to be someone’s father? Was he ready to bring a child into the world with someone he barely knew?

The weight of it all felt too heavy. Zilla needed advice, and he knew exactly who to turn to—the one person who had been through his own share of messes. Jey. The older cousin who had always been there for him, even when the stakes were high. He dialed Jey’s number, the phone ringing as his thoughts spun out of control.

After a few rings, Jey picked up.

“What up, Uce?” Jey’s voice was warm, familiar, even through the phone.

Zilla took a deep breath, feeling the pressure building in his chest. “Hey, man… I need your… advice.”

“Go for it, man,” Jey said, his tone steady, like he was ready to listen.

Zilla hesitated for a moment, unsure how to even frame what was on his mind. “I know about Rhea’s first miscarriage and all that, and I know it’s a touchy subject, but what did you do when you found out? ‘Cause I know you were still with Takecia back then.”

Jey sighed, the sound laced with a heaviness that spoke volumes. “Yeah… I normally don’t get all open with my business,” he said after a beat. “But I guess you’ve got a good reason for asking.”

Zilla let out a quiet laugh, trying to ease some of the tension. “I know, man. I wouldn’t ask unless I had a damn good reason.”

“Dahlia’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Jey’s voice softened as if he already knew the answer, the familiarity in his tone making Zilla’s stomach tighten.

“Fucking one condoms, don’t work,” Zilla muttered, frustration and disbelief seeping into his voice.

“Yeah, well… I was in love with Rhea way before that,” Jey replied, his voice quieter now, as if he were revisiting old memories. “And I didn’t even know it at first.”

Zilla furrowed his brow. “Whatcha mean, Uce?”

Jey took a deep breath, a pause lingering on the line before he spoke again. “Well, we had an affair, you know that, right?”

Zilla nodded, even though Jey couldn’t see it. “Yeah.”

“Well…” Jey’s voice took on a more reflective tone. “We just didn’t use condoms at all. We were stupid, man. We thought we were invincible, I guess.”

Zilla’s mouth went dry. The idea of Rhea and Jey being that reckless… it hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, a voice interrupted him.

“But he was all in!” Rhea’s voice rang out in the background, loud enough for Zilla to hear it clearly.

Zilla couldn’t help but chuckle, imagining the chaos that Rhea was undoubtedly causing. Jey sighed, but it was affectionate, as if he had grown used to the dynamic.

“Babe, let me handle this…” Jey’s voice softened as he tried to reign it in. Then, back to Zilla. “Anyways… yeah, man. I just confessed to her that I loved her. And the rest was history.”

Zilla sat back, processing the weight of Jey’s words. “You just told her you loved her?” he asked, his voice quiet, contemplative. He had always thought of Jey as this rock, someone who had it together. But hearing this? It made everything feel so much more real.

Jey’s laugh on the other end of the line was a little strained but genuine. “Yeah, man. I didn’t have all the answers, but I knew what was in my heart. And I wasn’t about to let her go, no matter how complicated everything got. I don’t have a perfect answer for you, Uce. I’m just telling you that sometimes you just gotta go with your gut. Things get messy, but if you care about someone, you figure it out.”

Zilla leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the night sky again. “I don’t know, Jey. It feels like everything’s happening too fast. Dahlia and me—we barely even know each other.”

Jey’s voice came through, calm and reassuring. “You’d be surprised how quickly you can learn about someone when life throws you curveballs. You’ve got a decision to make, Uce. But know this—you don’t have to make it alone. You’ve got family. You’ve got me. You’re not in this by yourself.”

Zilla let Jey’s words sink in. Family. Support. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

“Thanks, Uce,” Zilla said, his voice quieter now, a weight lifting off his shoulders. “I’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Jey’s laughter came again, this time lighter. “That’s the way, Uce. Take it one step at a time.”

As Zilla ended the call, he felt a little lighter, like the road ahead wasn’t so overwhelming. He wasn’t sure what was coming, but he had a clearer sense of what to do. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, but he was starting to see a path forward.

this was suppose to be apart of chapter 2 but I didn’t realize it was attached until I posted it 😂😂😂😂

[mollywog]

🦮 Sinister Innocence

I loved your summary for this fake fic and I'd love to read a snippet if you're inspired!

So glad you asked @thesunpersists!!

Summary: When an ill-fated camping trip results in the death of Sylvia Fox, Attorney Katniss Everdeen must prove that Sylvia’s death was a result of a series of unfortunate events and not the calculated planning of her boyfriend, Peeta Mellark. But as court case heats up, so does the tension between attorney and client. Can Katniss prove to the court (and herself) that Peeta’s an innocent man or will she be his next victim?

~~~ Snippet 1 ~~~

“Fucking idiots,” she mumbles into her bite of English muffin as she watches the news where the anchor reports about a pair of campers missing in the Appalachian mountains. They must have gone off the beaten path to get the ‘real experience’ and gotten lost. Happened all the time… but usually not to the granddaughter of a old railroad tycoon so this was getting attention.

She half listens as the reporter ambles on: They’d left on a Saturday and when they hadn’t returned for work on Monday an all out manhunt had begun. Searches had been hindered by the relentless spring rain.

Katniss had little hope for the pair, and quiet honestly little sympathy: Some people just weren’t meant for the wilderness.

But then a picture of the pair flashes on the screen. She fumbles for the remote, pausing the program before the image disappears. The man’s face fills her screen.

Oh no. Not him.

~~~ Snippet 2 ~~~

“Peeta, you’re going to have to work with us here,” Haymitch says. “You discover your girlfriend is cheating on you and your answer is to propose?”

“You don’t understand what it was like with her — with us,” Peeta pleads.

“Please explain then, because I doubt a jury of your peers will understand either.”

He huffs, “Sylvia wanted an engagement, had given me an ultimatum and deadline. The thing with Crane was just to show me she was serious this time— that she already had a backup plan for if I didn’t come through. She always played these games. I mean we all know her grandfather.”

“And you were volunteering for that till death do you part?” Haymitch mocks.

Katniss watches as Peeta’s eyes flash and nostrils flare. He drops his gaze down to the coffee cup he’s gripping dangerously tight.

She knows Haymitch has clocked it as well; it’s part of his process. He’s usually so easy going and mild despite the circumstances and Katniss wonders if there’s enough of that anger under the facade to have really killed Sylvia. Haymitch says it doesn’t matter, except in that they’ll need to work on it If Peeta wants to testify in his own defense. But Katniss wants to— no, needs know for certain.

Peeta takes a few breaths before continuing, “I know how stupid this all looks— how stupid I look. I’ve had to a lot of therapy since then and can see how wrong it all was, but at the time I just thought: When you love someone you take the good with the bad.

“I thought if we got away; from Crane and her grandfather’s influence and if I did what she wanted, we could reset.”

~~~ Snippet 3 ~~~

She heads towards the conference room. The past few days of prep had gone well. She and Haymitch had been grilling him in preparation for the cross examination and were in a groove.

But Haymitch is waiting outside the door. “Hold up sweetheart,” he says blocking her entrance. “Kid’s asked to prep with me alone.”

~~~ Snippet 4 ~~~

She’s feeling good about the case… hopeful even. Like they may be able to win and that maybe, just maybe there might be a future afterwards.

She’s lost her place in her brief, daydreaming when her ringing phone jolts her back to the present.

It’s Beetee from the lab and when she answers he begins without preamble, “Analysis of Miss. Fox’s stomach contents are in: Dried meat and fruit, nuts.”

Perfect - Everything checks with Peeta’s account. All good news.

“but there was one interesting thing. We also found: [latin plant name].”

Katniss’s stomach drops, her mouth goes dry. “Nightlock,” she whispers.

“That’s right; So you’re familiar? Highly toxic. Victim was likely dead within moments of swallowing.”

“But her toxicology came back normal?” She reasons.

“Toxicology only covers the usual things unless otherwise ordered. I’ll put in a request now to confirm.”

“Put a rush on it and call as soon as you know.”

Katniss slumps in her chair. So Sylvia was dead before she’d ever left the cliff ledge.

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny was not having a Good Time™ but he also wasn’t having a Bad Time™. He was stuck in an idle limbo between the two where he was both numb and not. It didn’t really make sense to him, either.

Somewhere between stumbling upon the Justice League Dark and coming to live in the House of Mysteries full time, Danny found himself seeing the group as something akin to family. He was starting to see them as part of his Fraid and it scared him because good things don’t happen to his Fraid. Sure, nothing inherently dangerous happens, but nothing really good happens, either.

He didn’t like that the House had picked up on his feelings because that meant that it was now making sure he was encountering the rest of the JLD whenever any of them were visiting. Constantine and Deadman were the two he saw the most, but that’s only because they, like him, are almost permanent residents.

Constantine ripping into the Justice League did not help his feelings on the matter of his Fraid. The same man now knowing what happened to his family as well as what he looks like in both forms isn’t helping, either. He doesn’t regret letting John see him as Danny, though.

“Have you seen the security footage from the last League Meeting?” Billy asked around his sandwich.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Danny sipped his coffee. It still needs vodka. “And, no, I haven’t. Anything I should worry about?”

Billy swallowed his food, grabbed his League communicator from his jacket’s inner pocket, and pulled up the footage. “It’s actually really funny,” He handed the device over so Danny could watch. “Much funnier on a halo screen, but it’s funny like this, too.”

He had to admit that watching Constantine rip the heroes a new one was really funny. “I have never seen any of them look so cowed before.”

“Right?” He stashed the communicator away again, drinking his lemonade at the same time. “I think Batsy-boy actually took home the powerpoint to study. Do you think he took notes?”

Danny hummed, “I don’t know Batsy-babe all that well, but I wouldn’t doubt that he’s taking notes. From what I do know about him, he’s probably gonna make everyone that operates in Gotham memorize the thing.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re looking at information sensitive to you and your home and people. They could find something to use against you. We all know what Bat-dad is like.”

He shrugged. “There isn’t any way into the Realms that I’m not monitoring. And any information that Batman thinks he can use against me can’t be used against me.”

“How do ya mean?”

“I’ve seen what I can become and I know what happens if I ever become him. I already have so many plans in place to prevent the worst- Bat-mad will be Bat-sad to figure out that nothing he could try and use against me would work, no matter what he tries.”

“Do I, um, even want to know?”

“No, probably not.”

“Okay.” A beat. “Hey, you can’t just tack on a word after ‘bat’ to describe him! That’s not how this game works!”

Danny smirked. “Aw, are you bat-mad? Are you gonna throw a bat-fit?”

Bill glared, getting ready to lunge. “I’ll show you a bat-fit! Get over here, asshole!”

Bill launched himself across the picnic table they were sitting at. Danny caught him, letting the both of them fall backwards, though he used a bit of flight to catch them before hitting the ground. In the same move, the two rolled over each other for a few feet.

After a few minutes, Danny had Billy pinned to the grass, his knee on his chest. “You gonna raise the white bat-flag?”

“As if B-man would surrender with a bat-flag.” Bill scoffed.

“Oh? What’re you gonna do about it, adoption bait?”

“This, old hag!”

Billy drew his knee back, hitting Danny’s back and sending him off balance. Once free, Billy pushed himself from the ground, spun to face his faux opponent, then relaunched himself at him.

Once again, Danny caught Billy, but he didn’t let them fall. Instead, with the young boy’s hands on his shoulders, he lifted him by his waist effortlessly and carried him back to where they had been eating.

Billy huffed when he was set back down, crossing his arms and looking away. “Coward.”

Danny raised an eyebrow as he retook his own seat. “You wouldn’t’ve beaten me anyway.”

“I totally would’ve won!”

“Big words coming from a toddler.”

“Yeah, maybe from you, old man. You’re older than time itself!”

“Hey! I’ve met Time, and I’ll have you know that he is not old.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You must be ancient if even a concept is younger than you!”

“Oh, you little brat! You’re gonna eat your words, ya hear me?”

“Threatening a child?” Billy put his hand on his chest, his expression offended. “I could have you arrested for that!”

Danny scoffed. “How’re you gonna call? The Ghostbusters?”

Billy shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of Young Justice.”

Danny closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “They’re coming up behind me, aren’t they?” It was less of a question and more of a resigned statement.

“Yep!”

“At least they don’t know who we are?”

“I speak only for myself, man.”

Danny groaned and bit into what was left of his sandwich. He’d much rather delay the inevitable if ignoring the teen hero team didn’t make them go away. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.

“Daniel Fenton?” Red Robin, dressed in civilian clothing, asked.

Danny didn’t react. Instead, he washed down his food with some more spiked coffee. It needed more vodka.

Superboy - Danny would know a Kryptonian’s strength anywhere - put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you Daniel Fenton?”

He turned with the hand, swinging his legs over the bench and leaning against the table to face the group. “Depends on who’s asking.”

Red Robin stuck his hand out for a handshake as Superboy stepped back to join Impulse and Wonder Girl. “Tim Drake, it’s nice to meet you.”

“No it’s not.” Danny didn’t even try to hide his appraising expression as he looked the four up and down, his gaze jumping between them all for a few seconds before he flipped back around, ignoring Tim’s handshake. “Be careful how you share your name with,” he patted the seat next to him, “Red Robin.” He sensed the four behind him stiffen as he shared a look with Billy who nodded slightly at him.

The four heroes sat on benches, Red Robin and Superboy beside Danny while Wonder Girl and Impulse sat beside Billy. “How did you..?”

“I’m not an idiot. Your disguises may work on everyone else, but I - as I’m sure you know - can see your souls. And, as much as I’m sure it pains Bat-lad, your soul is the one thing that can never be changed.”

“Really?” Impulse asked.

“No, that’s all bullshit,” he admitted with a shrug, “Thanks for confirming it, though!” He only knew because Billy knows them all because of a string of unfortunate identity reveals. They don’t know who he is, though.

Tim shared a look with his teammates. “So we were right, then. You’re Phantom.”

Billy, ever the drama queen, gasped with his entire body, his right hand slapping against his chest. “You lied to me? A child? You said you weren’t a superhero!”

Danny snorted at the shocked looks from the four teenagers. He kicked Billy. “Come off it, kid, you knew already. Don’t give them another reason to keel over.”

“You told him who we are!” Wonder Girl accused.

“No, he told me who you are,” Danny corrected, “I just rolled with the punches.” He finished off his coffee. “Honestly, you guys make it too easy.”

The group spluttered. Finally, Tim cleared his throat. “I, um, just wanted to apologize-”

“Okay.”

“I- ‘okay’?”

“Yep. ‘Okay’.”

Tim blinked. “Cool, um…Sorry for being insensitive-”

“And that’s where I’m taking my cue to leave.” Danny said, standing up.

“What?” Superboy asked, “Why? He hasn’t even said anything yet.”

“Because I know how the rest of this is gonna play out, and frankly, I want no part of it.” He picked up his trash, Billy doing the same. “You’re gonna apologize and think everythings perfectly fine and you’re going to ask even more invasive questions under the assumption that forgiveness means you can do it all over again. I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how this works.”

“I wasn’t-”

“If you were really honest in your apology,” He took a piece of chalk from his pocket. “-then you wouldn’t’ve sought me out as a civilian.” He was quick to draw a door on the grass, the chalk somehow sticking. “Thank you, Tim, for blowing my cover. If I find out that any of you four have told anyone, I will reign hell upon you all. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He reached down and grasped the now 3D door handle, twisting it and pulling the door open. Before he and Billy jumped through it, he looked over his shoulder at the four. “You’re not forgiven, if that wasn’t obvious. Try again after you’ve looked through Constantine’s powerpoint; he’s much more knowledgeable than you.” The door closed with a click behind him, the chalk dust absorbing into the dirt.

Part 10 Part 12