#am I about to make this a series… maybe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aquamarixx · 2 days ago

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breaking the internet

chapter four a whirlwind of chaos and laughter turns into something much more when Miss Journalist and Hiori Yo can't ignore the spark between them any longer. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint) masterlist

"And action!"

The marketing manager’s voice slices through the steady crackle of sizzling chicken nuggets.

You’re back in Bastard Munchen’s pristine kitchen. Instead of lounging by the marble island sharing a plate of pot stickers with the players, you’re seated across from Hiori Yo—your favorite football player turned late-night gaming buddy.

For someone who admitted to staying up late last night (because he had to try that newly released game he’s been raving on about), he looks annoyingly refreshed.

And, frankly, annoyingly fine.

A small round table separates the two of you, modestly set for a casual meal for two, like something out of a cozy café. The kitchen hasn’t changed much for this setup, save for the table serving as an odd centerpiece amidst its sleek, curated kitchen backdrop. The savory aroma of frying chicken nuggets fills the air, mingling with a faint whiff of rain you’re convinced is coming from Hiori.

Your "date" shifts in his seat, snapping you out of your thoughts. He flashes you an easy smile—the kind that promises everything’s going to be just fine. Behind him, the camera crew hovers, accompanied by the marketing manager.

“Hi,” Hiori says softly, his voice charming you like a spell, as if this really is some kind of meet-cute.

“Hello,” you reply, stifling a laugh. But your lips betray you, curling into a smile you can’t quite suppress.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The silence melts into shared giggles—like kids conspiring over a secret.

And maybe, in a way, you are.

“Ya look great today,” Hiori says, his gaze unwavering. He doesn’t give your outfit a once-over; instead, his eyes stay locked on your face, as though that’s all he needs to confirm your beauty.

“Thanks,” you reply, looking at your outfit consciously. “It’s nice to see you in normal clothes for once.”

Your confidence feels natural today, and you prop your head in one hand, soaking in the sight of him.

“Hmm... Ya make it sound like I wear a costume every time we meet,” he chuckles, tugging at the sleeve of his navy bomber jacket. His eyes flick away for a moment, and you catch the faintest hint of red at the tips of his ears.

Instead of his usual training jersey or the black-and-gold Bastard München kit, Hiori wears a simple black shirt beneath the jacket. It’s a casual choice that shifts his entire aura. You’ve seen him countless times, on and off the field, but almost always in his professional gear.

In your eyes, Hiori Yo has always been the football superstar—someone you interact with because of work, someone you talk to more than most because of work. Someone who probably sees you as just another face in the sea of media professionals.

But today feels different. This little illusion—the cozy setup, the way he leans into the role of your "date"—lets you live out a fantasy. For a moment, it feels like it could be real under different circumstances.

“And you,” you tease, leaning in slightly, “it’s nice to see how you’d dress for a date.”

“I am on a date.” His brows furrow slightly. “We’re on a date.” His voice is calm, his words spoken like an unshakable truth.

For a fleeting moment, he’s not a football superstar, not leagues out of your reach.

He’s just a guy across the table, someone you can picture sharing lazy Saturday afternoons with. Someone you could almost believe is sitting here because of you—and only you.

Before you can reply, Gagamaru steps in with impeccable timing. He sets down a plate of crispy chicken nuggets and furikake fries between you. The golden nuggets glisten under the kitchen lights as he places a bottle of ketchup and two cans of soda on the table.

Right. The shoot.

Just last week, Bastard München’s marketing manager emailed you about joining a new off-season content project. With the players finally on their mid-season break, the team plans a video series to spotlight individual players—to test their broader appeal to fans and potential sponsors.

Their words, not yours.

And the concept of the video you’re being invited for? A one-on-one interview styled like a date, featuring none other than their genius midfielder, Hiori Yo.

Apparently, your last collaboration—the behind-the-scenes “day in the life” video courtesy of JFA—had sparked unexpected chemistry.

It caught fans' attention, stirring days of chatter about you, Hiori, and Bastard München. It isn’t “worldwide trending,” but the buzz is undeniable. The fans just can’t get enough of the surprising, romcom-like moments between you and Hiori.

A lucky journalist interacting with one of the most elusive players of his generation. Shared moments as if it's straight out of a movie.

The dream for every fangirl.

This shoot was an experiment to explore Hiori’s broader appeal, pairing his quiet, understated charm with your relatable, approachable vibe. It’s also an opportunity to spotlight one of their more introverted players, someone who avoids the public eye as much as he can.

Your editor doesn’t hesitate to green-light the project. She’s all-in, shuffling your deadlines and clearing your schedule to make it happen. And her enthusiasm doesn’t even stop there. She nudged you more than once to “just go for it” with the charming midfielder.

Because, as she so eloquently puts it, “What’s there to lose?”.

And now here you are, playing your part.

Your version of casual date attire: an oversized light-blue button-down (coincidentally matching Hiori’s eyes) left open over a white square-neck cami. It’s nothing flashy, just enough to look the part of someone on a date with someone they like.

“Hmmm, since this is a date, I guess I should start with some date questions,” you say, pursing your lips in mock contemplation. You pull out a small stack of cards the marketing manager handed you earlier and place them neatly beside the plate of food, within reach of both of you.

According to her, the cards are a mix of fun tweets and generic icebreakers designed to spark lighthearted conversation.

Across the table, Hiori munches on furikake fries, watching you with a small smile. His gaze catches yours mid-bite, and you feel a faint flush rise to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you decide to jump right into the questions, catching him just as he pops another fry into his mouth.

“Who’s your favorite player?” you ask.

“Easy—Mesut Özil,” he answers without a second’s hesitation.

“Favorite food?”

“Salt-grilled Pacific saury. I even like the bitter parts.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Ready Player One.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really? I didn’t peg you for the geek type.”

Hiori grins, a little sheepish. “Well... I am. Watchin’ it got my otaku heart racin’.”

He leans back, the humor in his tone shifting to something softer. “Shouldn’t ya know that already? I talked yer ear off about Warhammer last time we played together.” He scratches the back of his neck, glancing away as though embarrassed by the admission.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “I didn’t realize it was at that level. I just thought, ‘Oh, Hiori's talking about his interests, that’s cool.’ I didn’t even know what Warhammer was until you brought it up.” You tighten your lips into a sheepish grin, waving your hands in exaggerated defense.

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head.

The moment is interrupted by a sharp cough off-screen. Both of you whip your heads toward the sound, eyes landing on someone in the crew.

“You guys play games together off hours?” someone asks, voice edged with curiosity.

“Yes?” you and Hiori answer simultaneously, far too quickly. Your voices carry the same nervous uncertainty, the shared “yes” echoing awkwardly between you and Hiori.

A beat of silence stretches, and you can feel the marketing manager’s eyes darting between the two of you, brimming with a curiosity you’re sure they won’t voice—at least not now.

As the buzz of the set picks up again, Hiori leans closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Guess we’re both not so good at keepin’ secrets, huh?”

You clear your throat and push forward with the next question.

“What’s your strength?”

“As a person or as a player?”

You pause briefly. “Both, if you can.”

He leans back, thoughtful. “I guess… my ability to see things from a broader perspective.”

“And your weakness?”

“Playin’ too much.” He shrugs lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up in it, I lose motivation for other stuff.”

You’re about to fire off another question when he raises a hand, laughing. “Whoa, slow down! This’s startin’ to feel like a job interview.”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “Oh, sorry! Force of habit—y’know, journalist mode.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your soda to cover your embarrassment.

Hiori gives you a honest to goodness smile, as if amused. “So, this’s ya gettin’ to know me, huh?”

You set the cards down with a huff, deciding to switch gears. Inhaling deeply, you exhale a dramatic sigh. “Soooo… what’s your type?”

“Type of what?” he asks teasingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Type of person, romantic partner, obviously.”

He tilts his head, giving the question some thought. “Someone who’s independent. I need space to do my own thing, especially when I’m gamin’. Ya know that already.” His gaze softens as it meets yours.

“But they should be there when it counts. Life as an athlete’s hectic—ya’ve seen how it is.”

You nod, pretending to jot down a mental note. “So… low-maintenance. Got it.”

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head. “Not low-maintenance—just someone who understands balance. And maybe someone who doesn’t mind long Monster Hunter sessions.” He smirks knowingly, and for a fleeting moment, the unspoken connection between you lingers in the air, understanding the inside joke.

Your bite your lips, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, that’s… oddly specific.”

Two months of Monster Hunter nights flash in your mind. Ever since Hiori casually suggested playing together, your evenings had been filled with wyvern hunts and co-op quests. He has an uncanny knack for strategy—always two steps ahead, always saving you when things got dicey.

And then there was that time he convinced you to try Nier: Automata. You’d never forget him backseating with a mixture of exasperation and amusement as you struggled to fend off machines as the stunning android 2B.

“No, no, dodge now! Okay, wait—parry—no, don’t roll off the edge!” His laughter still echoes in your mind.

Your expression softens as the memories linger, but you quickly rein yourself back into the present.

“Yer turn,” Hiori prompts, raising an eyebrow as if daring you. “What’s yer type?”

“Oh, uh…” You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, thinking. “I guess... someone kind, who can make me laugh. And…” You hesitate before adding, “Someone who respects my space and time, especially since I’m kind of a workaholic.”

Then, with a pointed glance, you add, “And someone who doesn’t put me on the spot during interviews.”

Hiori bursts out laughing, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Noted. I’ll behave.”

Before you can relax and skim through some of the cards, Hiori throws you a curveball. “What keeps ya goin’ when stuff gets rough?”

You blink, momentarily stunned by the weight of the question. His eyes lock on yours, searching. For a moment, you feel yourself slipping into those deep blue pools.

“Me? Oh, um…” You shift in your seat, unsure how to articulate your thoughts.

“I think it’s knowing I can tell stories that matter—stories that connect people.” You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s kind of a cliché, I know—”

“It's not,” Hiori interjects, his voice soft but firm. His hand brushes yours briefly on the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your fingertips. The sincerity in his gaze holds you in place.

“It shows ya care about what ya do. And that’s what counts, right?”

The warmth in his voice and the light touch of his fingers send heat creeping up your neck. You let the sensation linger for a beat before pulling your hand back, pretending to tuck a nonexistent stray hair behind your ear. The gesture does little to calm your racing thoughts.

Hiori continues, his expression contemplative. “I remember readin’ yer article.”

“Yeah?” You’re genuinely surprised he's bringing it up.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening. “The team was in a bad place back then. Greisner wasn’t even talkin' to anyone.” He chuckles awkwardly, and you catch a muffled, annoyed Oi! from somewhere in the background.

“We were playin’ like crap. Everyone could see it—fans, other teams… even us. Felt like it was us against the world.” His gaze flickers to the side, as if embarrassed by his own admission.

You hold your breath, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But then someone sent me yer article,” he continues. “At first, I thought, ‘Great, another roast piece.’ But it wasn’t. Ya didn’t tear us apart. Ya saw something in me—”

“In us,” he corrects himself, covering it with a cough.

“It reminded us someone out there was in our corner. That meant somethin’.”

The weight of his words leaves you momentarily speechless. Your hands fly to your mouth as if to contain your shock. “Wow, I had no idea... I’m just... glad I could help in some way.”

“Ya did. More than ya could possibly imagine,” he says simply, his tone carrying a quiet gratitude. “That article reminded us—even when things feel impossible, there’s always a way forward. Whether it’s in football or anything else, progress happens if ya keep trying. Little by little.” He pauses, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Ya told that story.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his words. You nod slowly, letting them sink in. “That’s... really... I, uh... That's means a lot, Hiori.”

He shrugs lightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if to downplay the moment. “It’s just how I try to see things.”

A playful glint returns to his eyes as he adds, “Plus, without it, I guess we wouldn’t be here. On this date. Together.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, leaving a warmth blooming in your chest.

Being a journalist has always felt like existing in a strange limbo.

You’re a faceless name, sending your thoughts out into a void, never quite knowing if your words resonate with anyone—or if they even make a difference. It was that wishful thinking, that quiet hope of connection, that drove you to pursue this career despite the doubts you faced years ago.

Hearing Hiori’s words now, realizing that your article didn’t just touch lives but changed them—his team’s and his—fills you with a sense of pride and fulfillment that you rarely allow yourself to feel. It might seem small to others, but to you, it’s everything.

Your gaze drifts to him, gratitude softening your features. His earlier touch still lingers on your fingertips, a faint reminder of the unspoken connection building between you.

I wonder if this is what it feels like... to be in the right place at the right time. To have something just... click.

You clear your throat, shaking the cards in your hand. Loosening up by rolling your shoulders and stretching your arms, a big smile betrays your nonchalance over what you’ve heard.

“Okay, moving on! These are fan questions—filtered and curated, of course.”

Hiori raises an eyebrow. “Curated, huh?”

You shuffle the cards with a sheepish grin and glance at the first one. Without thinking, you read it aloud:

“Hiori, your hands look really nice. Are they soft like how they look in camera?”

Hiori chuckles, holding up his hands as if presenting evidence. “Guess I gotta ask ya.”

“Wha—?!” Your jaw drops. “Me?”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Ya’ve shaken hands with me before, haventcha? So, what’s the verdict? Are they soft?”

You laugh nervously, feeling your face heat up. “I—I am not answering that!”

“C’mon, just settle it.” Hiori laughs, holding his hands out toward you.

Hesitant but unable to resist, you gingerly take his left hand and give it a light squeeze. Your fingers trace his palm as you try to compose your thoughts.

“They’re… huh… I’m surprised. They look soft, but they’re a little rough. Probably because of football, but—”

You stop mid-sentence as Hiori’s playful smile grows wider. Realizing he’s enjoying hearing your thoughts, you let out a dramatic sigh and turn toward the camera.

“They’re soft,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes for effect.

You quickly pick up the next card, only to have your eyes widen in shock. A nervous laugh escapes you as you read it silently, trying to decide whether to skip it.

“Oh, wow. This one’s… bold,” you mutter, clearing your throat.

Finally, you muster the courage to read it out loud: “Bet Hiori is a dom.”

Your voice drops to a whisper by the end, and you dart a glance at Hiori. His expression is a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do I… do we really have to answer this?” you ask, waving the card toward the marketing manager watching from the sidelines.

Hiori chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting into a teasing smile. “Ya already said it out loud. Too late to back out now.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I regret everything.”

Leaning closer, his voice drops to a playful murmur. “Whatcha think?”

Your head snaps up, and you feel your cheeks go impossibly hotter. “I—I am not answering that!” you stammer defensively.

Hiori leans back, feigning innocence, though his grin betrays him. “Suspicious. Very suspicious.”

Despite your flustered state, you blurt out, “Okay, fine! I guess you are a dom. An ultra sadist.” You pause for a second, biting your lip, wondering if you’ve said too much.

Did I really just say that out loud?

You can feel the heat rush to your face, but there's no going back now.

Hiori, caught mid-sip of his soda, chokes in surprise, coughing violently as he grabs for a tissue. You burst into laughter, hurriedly handing him more while apologizing between giggles.

“Sorry! Isagi told me to say it!” You point accusingly off-camera.

Hiori turns to see Isagi standing next to the monitor, a whiteboard in hand with Hiori = Ultra Sadist scrawled across it in big, bold letters. Behind him, Kurona, Raichi, and Igarashi are doubled over in laughter. Isagi gives an awkward thumbs-up, his boyish grin only making Hiori groan.

“M'going to have a long talk with him later,” he mutters under his breath, earning another round of laughter from you.

Eager to change the subject, you grab the next card, a smile lingering as you read aloud. “Ohh... This one’s fun... ‘Hiori Yo could read the phonebook to me, and I’d still swoon.’”

Tilting your head thoughtfully, you glance at him. “Now I kind of want to test that. Can you actually make a phonebook sound swoon-worthy?”

Hiori pauses in thought and sets his drink aside. His voice dips into a smooth, velvety tone as he says, “Tourist Information Center: 03-3201-3331. For general tourism inquiries, open from 9 AM to 5 PM.”

A small Oooooh escapes your lips. “That was way too good. Are you sure this isn’t your secret side hustle?” .

He chuckles, gaze soft but playful. “Think I should start a hotline? Late-night calls... reading lists... ASMR…” He pauses, his eyes flicking toward you with a teasing glint. “Or maybe something... more exclusive?”

The insinuation isn’t lost on you, and you chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, hoping the blush isn’t obvious.

“Maybe,” he replies casually in a singsong manner, his smile lingering as he props his face on his hands looking at you.

You take another bite of a chicken nugget, clearing your throat before reading the next card. “Can Hiori teach me football like he taught Y/N? Asking for a friend.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a playful grin. “Looks like you’re in high demand, Coach Hiori.”

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, he grins. “M'flattered, but I might already have a favorite student.”

Caught off guard, you blink. “Wait, me?”

His smirk widens as he nods. “Who else?”

You feel heat rise to your face but brush it off quickly. Flipping to the next card, you snort as you read aloud, “Hiori Yo x Miss Journalist content is my new religion. Bless Bastard München’s marketing team.”

You groan dramatically. “Bless them? I think they’re trying to embarrass me!”

Hiori only shrugs, “Or maybe they’re just helping us make memories.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,”

Letting out a small laugh, you glance at the next card. “Okay, here’s another one. Do you guys realize how much chemistry you have?”

Hiori’s lips curl into a faint smile as he looks at you. “Chemistry, huh? Whatcha think?”

Flustered, you glance away, focusing on the cards as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s not for me to say! I’m just reading the questions.”

“But yer the expert, aintcha?” Hiori leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Observing players, analyzing dynamics…”

You hesitate, heart fluttering at his unexpected intensity.

For a moment, you can’t help but notice how earnest he looks behind his boyish smile. His eyes are warm, his posture leaning in slightly as though waiting for your answer—and it makes the air between you feel charged.

“Well,” you say carefully, your voice quieter now, “I do think we have chemistry. I mean, we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t vibe, right?”

Grinning, you pick up the last nugget and offer it to him. His gaze follows your hand closely, and as he leans forward to take a bite, you forget just how tall he is and how he's able to reach you immediately,

The proximity catches you off guard, and his lips brush against your fingertips lightly. The brief contact sends a shiver through you, a subtle spark that lingers long after.

His smile widens, an innocent taunt in his expression, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath his teasing eyes.

For a moment, everything else fades into background.

Who knew he had such game?

But you don’t falter. Without breaking eye contact, you pop the rest into your mouth, making an exaggerated show of it. His eyes widen slightly, but that satisfied grin never leaves his face, his gaze still lingering on you as if the playful moment hadn’t quite ended.

“Y’know,” he says, settling back. “I almost didn’t do this. Not really a fan of the camera.”

“What made you reconsider?” you ask curiously, your tone light but intrigued.

“It’s work. I might get fired if I don’t do this occasionally, I guess,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for a better excuse.

A loud snort from the sidelines catches your attention.

“That's bullshit! Hiori immediately said yes when they told him it’s a date with you!” Isagi’s voice cuts through the room, and he doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach.

Behind him, Kurona and Raichi join in, while Ness and Kiyora peek from the hallway, clearly eavesdropping.

Hiori groans, muttering something about refusing to pass to Isagi in the next game unless he begs for forgiveness.

You smile, shaking your head at the chaos.

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to the task at hand. The cameraman hands over a few more cards. With a glance at the marketing manager, who gestures for you to continue, you smile and read the next one aloud.

“I will riot if Hiori and Y/N don’t end up together. The ship has sailed whether they like it or not!”

You glance at Hiori with a mischievous smile. The urge to take your teasing to the next level is strong. You wanted to see how far this charade can go. Even if it's just for your own satisfaction.

“Wow, people are so invested. I feel responsible. How do we make sure this ship doesn’t sink?”

Hiori leans forward, his expression mock-serious, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, for starters, I think communication is key. Every ship needs a good captain and crew who trust each other.”

He pauses for effect, looking at you pointedly. “Think ya can handle being co-captain?”

Feigning deep thought, you tap your chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Co-captains have to work really closely together, and I’m not sure if you’re up to my standards.”

A playful gasp escapes him. “Not up to yer standards? I’ll have ya know I’m an excellent team player. Just ask Isagi.”

You both turn to Isagi, who’s still recovering from his earlier fit of laughter. He straightens up, grinning. “Oh, absolutely. Hiori’s great—when he’s not plotting how to leave me stranded on the field.”

“Not helping, Isagi,” Hiori mutters, though his smile doesn’t falter.

The playful tension draws a chorus of cheers and mock whistles from the team. Isagi cups his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Let’s gooo, ship of the year!”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you glance at Hiori. “Looks like the crew is on board.”

Hiori chuckles, leaning back with a satisfied grin that hints at something deeper. “Then it’s settled. This ship is unsinkable.”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” you exclaim, laughing. “That’s a total jinx!”

The room fills with laughter again, the easy energy between the two of you now impossible to miss. The air feels lighter, but there’s an undeniable current that flows between you, unspoken but clearly present.

With every word, every glance, it feels like you’re navigating uncharted waters together—one small step closer to the edge, yet never quite willing to jump in.

“Miss Journalist, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?” Hiori's eyes narrowing with a suspicious gleam. He’s planning something.

“Yes?” you answer, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

He leans forward, the innocent yet sly smile never leaving his face. “So, you don’t mind me asking—who’s your favorite player on Bastard Munchen?”

You roll your eyes but keep your playful tone, already ready to play along. “That’s a tough one, but I guess... I’d have to say... Gagamaru?”

“Really? Gagamaru?” Hiori laughs, a teasing edge to his voice. “No offense, Gagamaru.”

You shrug with a mischievous grin, trying to keep up the act.

“That’s not what other people are telling me, though.” Hiori’s eyes twinkle with something unreadable as he pulls out his phone and swipes through it, then shows you the Winstagram picture of you wearing his jersey.

Oh, dear lord.

You groan inwardly, but there’s no escaping it now.

“Fine! You’re... up there,” you admit, laughing but feeling the blush creeping in. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, you continue, “But I’m sure the other guys won’t be too happy to hear that.”

Hiori’s grin widens, clearly enjoying himself. “S'okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

Before you can say anything more, Isagi shuffles over with a mischievous grin and hands Hiori a card. Hiori glances at it, his brow raising slightly before that sly smile stretches across his face.

Holding it up, he reads aloud. “Okay, last card! Due to popular demand, we dare Hiori to ask the journalist out on camera.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor. “Popular demand? Who’s making these demands?”

Hiori doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans towards you, a playful smile on his lips, his gaze locked on you. “Should I?”

You try to laugh it off, waving your hands in mock protest. “You don’t have to entertain everything they write, you know!”

But his gaze never falters. In fact, it softens, turning a little more serious, as if he’s letting a moment of sincerity break through the playful tension. “Yeah, but... what if I want to?”

Your heart skips a beat. “W-wait,” you stammer, feeling your composure slip. “Are you serious?”

Hiori tries to close the distance a bit further, the air between you both growing warmer. “Dinner. Just us. No cameras. Whatcha think?”

You blink, entirely thrown off course, and quickly turn to the crew, desperately waving the cards in mock surrender. “C-can we cut this part out? Please?”

From off-screen, the marketing manager’s voice rings out in amusement. “Nope! This is gold—we’re keeping it.”

Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief filling you. “Why am I even here?” you mutter, half-laughing, half-horrified.

As the crew starts to wrap up, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The shoot has been a whirlwind of chaos and laughter—nothing like you expected. But in the midst of all the teasing and jokes, there have been moments.

Small, fleeting moments where the façade of “content shoot” cracks just enough to reveal something real. Something that makes your heart race.

And it scares you. Because as much as you’ve enjoyed... whatever this is, there’s that nagging thought at the back of your mind. This wasn’t part of the plan.

It wasn’t supposed to feel so... real.

For Hiori, it’s equally disarming. At first, this shoot was just another day on the job. But now, as he watches you—how you smile when you try to deflect a question, the way you talk about your work with such genuine passion, how you handle the “shipping” comments with a perfect blend of humor and grace—it hits him.

He’s drawn to you.

It’s not just the playful banter or the way you make him laugh. It’s the way you see things differently, the way you carry yourself with this unexpected blend of wit and intelligence, and how you’re not fazed by the chaos around you.

When you laugh, it’s not forced; it’s real. When you talk about your work, it’s not some canned response. It’s something you actually care about. He’s seen people like you before, but not like this. Not in a way that makes him feel this... interested.

There’s something about the way you navigate the awkward moments, how you’re not afraid to call him out or laugh at his expense, that makes him want to know more. It’s as if, for the first time in a long time, someone has seen beyond his persona—beyond Hiori Yo the athlete—and into the person he is.

And he likes what he sees.

As you gather your things, Hiori stands, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as if the moment has only just begun. The air between you both feels different now—lighter, yet somehow more significant.

For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s in control, but also... a little unsure. And that feeling, surprisingly, excites him.

“So,” he says, his voice casual but his gaze never wavering from yours, “about that dinner...”

You look up at him, still flustered, but a faint smile creeping onto your lips. You try to deflect, make it sound casual. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

But his eyes are different now—softer, more sincere. “Not a chance.”

And in that moment, you see it. You see the shift in him, in the way he looks at you now—not as another journalist, but as someone he genuinely wants to know beyond the surface.

For a second, you can’t find the words. All you can do is laugh softly, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you shake your head.

He’s not asking because of a dare or because of a camera. It’s something real, something unspoken but undeniable. And for the first time today, you let yourself stop overthinking. You let yourself just feel the moment.

“Sure, why not?”

Maybe, just maybe, letting your guard down isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

amari's notes: i was kicking, giggling and smiling alone like crazy writing this! I really think these two have a great balance—neither too shy nor too teasing, just kind of testing the waters and seeing where things go. I’m here for it! If you’re up for it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

#blue lock #hiori yo #blue lock x reader #hiori yo x reader #bllk hiori yo #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk

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nanamineedstherapy · 2 days ago

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Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader (AO3)

A/N: This one-shot is inspired by an amazing fic idea shared by @sukuna-ryo. Thank you so much for letting me explore this concept! Your creativity brought this to life, and I hope I did it justice. 💕

Chapter 1 - The Price of Curiosity (Ao3)

GIF by feitanporter

Summery: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Tags: Sukuna x Reader Cannibalism Yakuza AU Dark Psychology Slow Reveal Manipulation Monster x Monster Energy Gritty, morally ambiguous character studies

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence Implied cannibalism Moral ambiguity (everyone’s awful) Mentions of child endangerment

Please read tags/warnings as this will get dark!

The room smelled faintly of metal and antiseptic, overpowered by the stink of Sukuna’s restraints. He leaned back in his chair, chains rattling against the bolted-down table, lips curved into an irritated smirk. Another day, another self-important idiot thinking they could peel back the layers of Ryomen Sukuna like some common criminal.

When the door opened, his curiosity barely flickered. Until she walked in.

Unlike the usual parade of interrogators or officials, she carried herself with a casual confidence. No clipboard. No body armor. Just a slim file in her hand and eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sukuna,” she said as she sat across from him, her tone light, unbothered.

His gaze dragged over her like a predator sizing up prey. “And you are?”

“Dr. Y/N L/N. Forensic psychologist. I’m here to evaluate you.”

He chuckled, low and mocking. “Oh, they sent another one. Let me guess—you’re going to crack open my head and figure out what makes me tick?”

Her lips twitched, almost a smile. “Something like that.”

Leaning forward, Sukuna rested his chin on his palm, the chains clinking with the movement. “Tell me, Doc, what’s the diagnosis so far?”

“You’re impatient,” she said easily. “And maybe a little bored.”

For the first time in years, Sukuna’s smirk faltered—just a hair. “Keep talking.”

She set the file down, not even opening it. “You’re not here because of some uncontrollable bloodlust, are you? You’re not a mindless killer. Every choice you make has purpose. Even your cannibalistic tendencies—they’re calculated.”

His grin widened, shark-like. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I have,” she replied, leaning forward slightly. Her voice dropped, just enough to draw him in. “I know you don’t just eat to survive or for power. You do it to send a message. To dehumanize your victims.”

“Or to elevate myself,” he shot back, amused. “It’s not about dehumanization, Doctor. It’s about taking what others won’t. What they can’t.”

She tilted her head, intrigued. “And what does that give you?”

“Dominance.” His tone was smug, matter-of-fact. “In every way that matters.”

There was a pause, the kind that should have made anyone squirm. But Y/N met his gaze without flinching.

“Does it ever get old?” she asked softly.

The question caught him off guard, though he didn’t let it show. “You’d be surprised, Doc. The taste of fear? That never gets old.”

She leaned back, as if satisfied, and tapped a finger on the edge of the table. “You fascinate me, Sukuna. You don’t just kill—you savor it. I’ve seen your records. You’re… meticulous.”

“You sound impressed,” he teased, voice low and dangerous.

“Maybe I am.” Her smile was small but sharp. “Or maybe I see potential.”

His laughter echoed through the room, rich and feral. “Potential for what? Rehabilitation?”

“Something like that,” she said cryptically. .

The sessions continued daily. Y/N’s approach was unorthodox—no lectures, no moralistic speeches. She asked questions that dug deep, steering the conversations toward his cannibalistic acts. Why this victim, why that moment? What did he feel when he consumed them?

Sukuna, for once, played along, curious to see how far she’d go. She didn’t flinch at his answers, no matter how grotesque. If anything, she seemed intrigued, even... amused.

“You’re not like the others,” he said one day, eyes narrowing as she scribbled something in her notes.

“Is that a compliment?”

“An observation.”

Her smile was polite, but her eyes betrayed something darker. “Maybe we’re not so different.” .

The room was quiet after Y/N left for the day. Sukuna leaned back, replaying their conversation. She was digging for something, and he wasn’t sure what. Not fear. Not control. Something deeper.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he mulled it over.

Meanwhile, Y/N stepped into her dimly lit apartment, setting her bag down by the door. She pulled off her coat, revealing the faintest smear of something dark—something red—on the cuff of her sleeve.

In the kitchen, she opened her fridge. Rows of vacuum-sealed packages lined the shelves, each labeled with dates and initials. She reached for one, her fingers brushing the plastic before pulling it out.

“Meticulous,” she murmured, her smile stretching wide as she placed the package on the counter. A butcher’s knife gleamed under the fluorescent light.

As she sliced into the flesh, her mind wandered to the child she had rescued from an alley once, its tiny body trembling with gratitude. The memory turned deliciously dark as she savored the look of dawning horror on its face when it realized not every woman was as kind as its mother. Y/N reveled in the bitter taste of fear—fear that lingered, even after the flesh was cooked.

She set the knife down, adjusting the heat on the stove to a low simmer. A small smile tugged at her lips, wicked and sharp. “He thinks he’s a monster,” she murmured, almost lovingly. “He has no idea.”

Back in the cell, Sukuna’s smirk returned. His instincts screamed that Y/N L/N was far more dangerous than she appeared.

And for the first time in years, he wasn’t bored.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 💀✨ I had way too much fun diving into the twisted dynamic between Sukuna and Y/N. What did you think of their little “therapy session”? Who do you think is the real monster here? 👀 I’d love to hear your thoughts, theories, or even just your favorite line! Drop a comment and let me know if you’d like more stories like this—or if you think Sukuna ever stood a chance. 😉 Your feedback means the world and keeps me inspired! 💬🖤

Chapter 2 - Flesh and Stone (Final Chapter) (Tumblr/AO3)

All Works Masterlist

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fandomnerd9602 · 19 hours ago

Text

Winter Comfort (🌶️)

Wolf!Natasha x Reader

The weather predictions weren’t looking good for the entire upper east coast. The forecast was a winter blizzard would be making its way through and the Westview sanctuary was right in the blizzard’s path.

You and Natasha worked hard to fortify the sanctuary and your apartment from the coming storm.

“We should all stay at my apartment, Natasha” you told your girlfriend only for Yelena to interrupt.

“What about my cave? It’s roomy, open aired and I literally just answered my own question” Natasha huffs, “fine. But I want cuddles and a James Bond film”

“Deal” you answer with a smile.

“You two lovebirds can stay at your apartment,” the blond wolf chimed, “I am going to wait out the storm with Kate Bishop”

“I feel terrible for Kate” Natasha smirked. “Putting up with you? Oof”

Yelena rolled her eyes and jumped into her jeep, driving off to meet up with her best friend.

You and your wolf girlfriend got the hybrids all comfortable and the place well heated. The back up generator was good to go.

And with that, the sanctuary was fortified and ready for the storm. You and Natasha went back to your apartment.

You and Natasha cooked dinner, danced to a few favorite songs and then found yourselves curled up on your couch watching a classic James Bond movie.

“You always known how to treat me” Natasha giggles as she lays in your arms. She begins grinding her hips against yours. It was slow and steady, if it wasn’t for proximity, you wouldn’t have noticed. But you did.

“Are you w-warm enough, baby?” You tried to form a proper sentence but her little repeating action was putting your mind on the Fritz.

“I’m still a little cold” she purrs against your chest, “maybe you can warm me up”

She just keeps nuzzling you, breathing in your scent, rubbing her arms all over your chest, her legs sliding against yours. Her tail gently teasing your thighs.

“Natasha” you tried to say thru a mixture of giggles and a growing blush.

“Hmm? What is it, malysh?” She asked, batting her eyes playfully at you. Her eyes however held a certain amount of mischief.

“Y-You know what you’re doing to me”

She nuzzles you, her tail now swaying at you seductively. “Do I? Or are you reading between the lines?”

You rub her lower back reassuringly, placing little kisses to her lips, “Is this what you want?”

She kisses you right back, purring in your ear, “i want you. plain and simple, malysh”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your wolf hybrid girl giggles before kissing you again.

“What about the movie?”

She runs her hands under your shirt, “I’ve seen the Spy Who Loved Me a hundred times already”

And with that you pick her up and carry her to your bedroom. She wraps her legs around your waist, holding onto you and giggling. Her reddish tail swishing side to side happily.

You lay her down gently on your bed, kissing her neck, caressing her so tenderly.

“I can’t believe it” you whisper against her ear.

“Me neither.” Natasha giggles, “our first time and we’re doing it in the middle of a snowstorm”

“There’s that,” you shrug, “but I just can’t believe how lucky I am to be love with my best friend”

Natasha gazes into your eyes with pure love and adoration, her voice comes out a little pleading but also a little giddy too, “just take me already you romantic goof!”

You help her out of her thermals as she tries to claw you out of yours. The two of you kiss and tumble over your bed, lost in the all consuming, all encompassing feelings of love.

Despite her earlier energy levels, your first time was gentle and loving. Natasha didn’t want to take her eyes off you while you just were in awe of the way her eyes showed every bit of love and joy. You wanted this time to be about her, while she wanted it to be about you.

Her claws gently scratched down your back as the euphoric bliss washed over her. Her breathing became a series of desperate little panting sounds, “(Y/N)! My love!…” after that her voice became a series of loving, joyful phrases whispered in the Russian language. You knew a few words so you knew she was experiencing an immense amount of pleasure and joy, she was practically a mess in your arms.

Her little moans, the way she giggles and gasps. All of it just made you fall more and more in love with her. Her pleads, her panting voice, it all made you want to strive to make her feel it more and more. She was your ecstasy, your love, your wolf girl.

“Natasha,” the way you said in her name made her bite her lip happily. She wanted to hear you say it more often.

The two of you collapsed against one another a happy mess, sharing a gentle, loving laugh with each other. Natasha’s reddish curls covered her face and a bit of yours. Your honey wolf wrapped her entire body around you like a contented sloth on a branch. Her tail swished happy and content under the covers of your bed.

“Hmm…by the gods I love you” she said with a little content sigh on her lips.

“I love you” you whispered back, just wanting nothing more to do than hold her in your arms for all eternity.

“Sounds like the storm is starting to clear up” Natasha commented.

“I’m still a little cold” you joked, earning a giggle from your wolf paramour.

“We got time”

You kiss her tenderly, “all the time in the world, my love”

Her tail wagged happily in response. How did you go this long without her in your arms before?

Yes the weather outside was frightful but laying there in the comfort of your bed with your loving redheaded wolf girl was so delightful.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @redhoodte @scarletquake-n7 @iiconicsfan25 @jacenradio7 @julieromanoff @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @ab1nsur @iamnicodemus @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @multi-fandom-enjoyer @ma1egamer @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #wolf hybrid #wolf natasha #werewolves #scarlett johansson

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amethystwrytes · 2 days ago

Text

Safe (Part Eight)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Depiction of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.

Chapter WC: 10K

AN: Just a friendly reminder to peep warnings on this story (and any story that offers them) just in case you see something that makes you uncomfortable that you'd like to avoid.

~ Part Eight ~ (Series M. List Here)

“That’s a strong heartbeat Ms. ___,” the doctor smiles and turns a dial on the machine. The quiet room fills with what sounds like galloping horses, “Everything looks fantastic. Let’s measure the sack, and I can tell you about how far along you are.”

The doctor turns the dial back down a bit, slides the ultrasound wand from your vagina which you appreciate, and clicks some things on the screen.

“When will we know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Hyunjin asks excitedly.

The doctor smiles, “There are blood tests we can do near the end of the first trimester, but the anatomy scan won’t occur until Ms. ___ is about twenty-eight weeks along and right now…” the Doctor types something out on the keyboard, “she is only about ten weeks.”

The doctor clicks another button and a piece of paper slides out of the machine, she rips it off and hands it to you, “A picture of the baby,” she smiles.

“And everything looks okay?” you ask again, your fingertips gently caressing the paper in your hands.

“Yeah, right now everything looks wonderful. Did you want to schedule the blood tests in a few weeks to determine gender, and uhm,” she looks at the three of you, “we could also add DNA to the labs…”

“Excuse me?” Minhos voice gets darker and he narrows his eyes at the Doctor, you know that look and sit up quickly, squeezing his hand in yours.

“That won’t be necessary,” you smile politely, “Let’s just schedule whatever labs are required for me and to make sure the baby is healthy, but everything else can wait.”

The doctor gives you a nervous smile, “Right, okay then. Well, congratulations, again, and make sure to take your vitamins, drink plenty of water daily, and stay away from alcohol and the food items that are on the list that the nurse gave you, I’ll see you in about three more weeks.”

The doctor all but runs out of the room and you and Hyunjin look at Minho.

“What?” he asks, fingering the cuff of his sleeve as he stands.

“You need to behave in public,” you snort, removing the awful paper exam gown and grabbing your neatly folded clothes, “or I can’t bring you boys to my appointments. You scared that woman.”

“She crossed a line,” Minho points out, “If we wanted a DNA test we’d have asked for it.”

“I could wait for her in the lot, kill her after work,” Hyunjin teases, pantomiming himself choking her out with piano wire, and you smack his arm.

“Not helping!” you hiss.

“It was a shitty question,” he counters with a shrug.

“Okay maybe, yes, but we’re going to have to get used to weird questions and odd looks. I mean, look at us,” you gesture.

The room goes silent for a moment before the three of you start to giggle.

“I’ll be polite and forgiving,” Minho smiles, “for you.”

“Thank you.”

As the three of you are walking out into the lobby you hear a voice call your name.

“___?”

You turn and see Hanna, you worked with her in the Emergency Room at the hospital.

“Oh my god! It’s been ages,” she greets you with a hug.

“Hanna, how are you?”

“I’m good, I was about to go on a break and saw you,” she smiles. “Are you pregnant?”

“I, um, yes, I am,” you smile awkwardly. “Do you work here now?”

“Yeah, I switched from ER to Obstetrics, I was so tired of the drama at the hospital, I just wanted a better shift and to go home at 5pm,” she laughs, “but you! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you smile and you can feel her catching up to the moment, finally seeing the two men standing behind you. “Um, this is Lee Minho and Hwang Hyunjin.”

She looks between the two men, “Nice to meet you…both.”

“We really ought to be going,” you say.

“Well, we should catch up soon! Honestly, it’s like you disappeared into thin air. One night you were at work and the next the admins were saying you quit without notice, I mean…where did you go? Are you working anywhere?”

“No, I um…it’s like you said, I just got tired of the drama and the rough shifts and such.”

“So you’re not working at all?”

“I am, it’s just more of a private practice kind of gig,” you lie, sort of.

“Oh, well, you should give me a call sometime, my number’s still the same, I’d love to hear about it, and what you’ve been up to,” she eyes the two men again.

“Yeah, absolutely,” you nod, “take care okay!”

You don’t give her the time to respond before you quickly push through the glass doors and out into the parking lot.

Christopher waits for the three of you in the SUV. Hyunjin climbs into the passenger seat while Minho slides into the back with you.

“What was that?” he asks.

“What was what?” you reply as if you don’t know what he’s referring to.

“Why were you weird with your friend?”

“Was I?”

“Kitten,” Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a stern look.

“I just…” you shake your head and shrug, “I’ve been average my whole life, just normal, and I’m not anymore. I nurse criminals back to health and I’m in a polyamorous relationship with two of them and also pregnant and I just don’t know how to explain that.”

“Are you ashamed?” he asks and while there is no defense or accusation in his tone, it still makes you feel guilty, uncomfortable.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you, or us, or what I’m doing but I also haven’t had to be in a position where I needed to explain it all, Hanna caught me off guard. That’s all,” you explain.

“Okay,” he nods, reaching across the seat to squeeze your hand, “I love you ___, I want you to be comfortable and happy, you know that, right?”

“Yes baby, I know.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“I had a meeting with Kim Namjoon today,” Minho says, sitting at the dining table, the entire group waiting intently for information. “He got a message from a realtor friend of his that Taehyung is about to close on some property, an abandoned sugar mill near the river.”

“Well, it’s no secret he knows that we found his storehouse location, I got shot for it,” Seungmin says, “Clearly he’s looking for a new place to hide all his goodies, including our guns.”

“Exactly,” Minho nods, “They close this coming Saturday, he’ll get the keys to the lot, and by Saturday night his shit and our weapons will be moved to a new location we’re not familiar with.”

“What do you want to do?” Hyunjin asks.

“How well do you all have the warehouse memorized?”

“We could all tattoo it on our asses from memory,” Changbin jokes.

“Then tonight we set a plan in stone, and tomorrow night, we do this shit. No more talking about it, we steal those fucking guns back, set Kim Taehyungs life on fire, and watch it burn to the ground.”

The room goes quiet and you lean back on the countertop, your fingers squeezing around the edge. This is actually going to happen. For weeks it’s just been a conversation, a recon mission, and an unrealized plan of action. You knew it was coming, and you knew it was coming quickly, but your skin still feels clammy, and your heart rate jumps as you think of the inevitable danger that’s now a mere twenty four hours away.

You don’t want to know any more. You kiss Minho on the cheek and squeeze Hyunjins shoulder as you make your way up the stairs to the bedroom. All you need to do is be ready, for what? You can’t really say. However you don’t need to know the gory details of how they plan to break into Taehyungs storehouse, who they plan to hurt, and how they intend to get out with the least amount of damage done to them if such a thing is possible. Hyunjin and Felix seemed to be certain that someone might die in attempting this, and your heart hurts contemplating that thought. Would it be Jeongin or Changbin or Felix? Maybe Seungmins stubborn ass, or sweet Jisung. God forbid Minho or Hyunjin, the very thought twists your insides apart.

No. No you can’t quite let yourself think about it. You decide to think about treatment only. As you slide into the soothing bath water you think about different types of stitches, trauma procedures, and what medications you might need at the ready. You won’t lose anyone, you can’t. You’re too deep in this to imagine losing any of these men you care about.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Then

It’s 6:50am and you just clocked out, walking out of the hospital into the dark parking lot, the sun not quite up yet, the sky a mixture of gray and dark clouds, indicating a storm is coming.

You take a deep breath and reach into your bag for your keys, walking into the maze of the lot toward your beat ass car.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, your keys falling to the ground with a clanky thud. You look at the man slinking up to you, hands in his pockets.

“Yes?” you respond hesitantly, gripping one of your keys between your index and middle fingers, ready to strike in case this person means to harm you.

“Do you work here?” he continues. You look at your ID badge hanging over your left shirt pocket, and the light pink scrubs you wear and stare at him.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, what I mean to ask is, are you like, a doctor or something?”

“I’m an RN,” you answer and he continues just blinking at you, “a nurse. Are you hurt?” you look at the man, who appears to be just fine.

“No, but my friend, he needs help,” the man replies, gesturing with his thumb behind him to some unseen distressed friend.

“The entrance to the Emergency Room is just straight ahead,” you turn and point from where you just came from, “The big red letters that say Emergency, you can’t miss them,” you say and turn back to your car.

“See, the thing is,” he takes another step towards you and you instinctively take a step back, “We can’t go inside.”

“Why can’t you go inside?”

“I can explain everything but my friend really needs your help,” he says.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you laugh, “Do you think I’m going to follow a strange man deep into this massive parking lot for you to throw me in a trunk or something?”

“No ma’am, please, I mean you absolutely no harm, and I’ll explain while we walk but my friend…he’s bad, alright? There’s blood everywhere and it won’t stop and I’m afraid he’s going to die but I cannot take him into the hospital or he definitely will.”

“This is the part of our conversation where I whip my phone out and call security dude, so either take your friend into the hospital or get lost, okay?” you scoff and twist your key into the lock of your car door.

“Miss….” the mans expression is pleading and you look at him, really look at him, the fear in his eyes and the worry, “Please. Please help us.”

You stand staring for a few seconds more then let out a windstorm of a sigh.

“Fine. I have an emergency first aid kit in my trunk, hold on,” you slam the drivers door and slink to the trunk, opening it quickly to grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. “Lead the way then.”

You follow the man deeper into the lot, weaving in and out of car aisles.

“You said you’d explain? Why don’t you start with your name and what happened,” you demand.

“My name is Hwang Hyunjin, my friends name is Minho and there’s one other guy with us, Jisung,” he starts.

“Three against one, fantastic,” you deadpan.

“I promise we aren’t going to hurt you ma’am, my friend, Minho, he’s an important man and lots of people want him dead, if he goes into that hospital and someone recognizes him, well it could be dangerous for him and anyone near him, including your coworkers, okay?”

“I don’t like the sound of that at all Hwang Hyunjin,” you shake your head as he stops at the rear of a large black van. Oh great, you think.

“Please?” he opens the doors to reveal two men, one of them holding a dirty towel over a wound, the other man wincing in pain, struggling with breath and looking very, very injured.

“Shit,” you mutter, crawling into the van, nurse mode on and completely forgetting that this could all be a trap. Although, judging by the man writhing in pain before you, you think perhaps Hwang Hyunjin was telling the truth after all.

“What happened?” you ask the other two men.

“He was shot…”

Your eyes widen as you look around, what have you gotten yourself into?

“I see,” you clench your jaw and take a closer look at the wound. “Your name’s Minho?” you ask and the man with the wound, who seems to have just now noticed you, opens his dark eyes and nods.

“Okay Minho,” you say rummaging through your woefully lacking bag, “I’m going to have to run back into the hospital, I think this is outside the capacity of my little first aid bag. Is the bullet still inside or did it go through?” you ask.

“I believe it’s still inside but I’m not sure,” Hyunjin answers.

“I need to go get a GSW kit from the med room,” you back slowly away from the van and two of the three men look at you as if they expect you to come back with security. You ought to. Every security protocol that exists is being broken right now. You try not to think about it as you jog back toward the hospital.

“Forget something?” Seokjin, the emergency department guard, cocks his head toward you.

“Yes, um, in my locker,” you fake a chuckle as you glide by. You should tell him there’s a man in the parking lot trying to be treated outside the hospital, tell him that this man is obviously some kind of bad guy, yet for some reason you don’t.

The GSW kits are locked up with the other supplies in a nearby closet, and you can’t scan your ID because if or when someone realizes it’s missing they’ll be able to trace it to you. You sigh, looking around to make sure no one is watching as you pluck Sunni’s ID badge off the nurses desk - she always leaves it lying around. It’s wrong what you’re doing, stealing things under her name, but you push through the door, grab the kit and a few extra things, shove them into your backpack and head back out. Shift changes are always busy, the incoming staff doing their first rounds to get acclimated to new patients and their needs, so you go through completely undetected except by Seokjin, who doesn’t seem to care, and plays his Nintendo Switch at the lobby desk as he always does, just giving you a smile and a nod on your way out.

You run back toward the van and swing open the doors. Hyunjin looks thoroughly impressed that you are still alone and you ignore the appreciative smile that creeps across his face.

You put on some gloves and unzip the GSW bag.

You toss the kit to him, “I need to cut open his shirt, while I do this I need you to find some clamps - they look kind of like scissors but they have curved tips that look like pliers, I’ll need to use them to get the bullet out. I’ll also need a lot of gauze, probably every bit that’s in that bag.”

“Yes ma’am,” he starts rummaging while you work at getting Minhos shirt off of him.

“Clamps,” you command and hold your bloody hand out, he places them in your palm, “Okay Minho, I think I can see the bullet, but this is going to hurt, okay?” you grimace and press your lips together tightly as you shove the clamp into the wound, the bullet is deep but retrievable and Minho is surprisingly still as you fiddle around his insides with metal.

“Got it,” you drop the clamps, “Gauze, all of it,” you instruct and the two additional men start handing you piece after piece as you shove it into the gunshot wound to stop the blood loss.

“There should be an ace bandage and some surgical tape in there, get them,” you continue directing and the men continue following orders. You bite off some tape and place it over the packed gauze, then wrap the bandage around his torso. Finally, you take a breath.

“He’ll need to be seen by a physician,” you sit back on your legs, “This is a very sloppy fix but it’s the best I can do in the back of a van. He needs antibiotics, and someone to unpack that gauze and inspect the area, probably stitch up the wound - but he should make it until you can find someone to do that. Do not leave the gauze in more than four hours, he’ll need to be seen before that but I’ve bought you time to find someone you can trust.”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin nods.

You crawl out of the van and he hands you your bag, but you shake your head, “Keep it, and you’re welcome.”

“We need to get out of here,” the other man, Jisung, says and Hyunjin nods.

“Get him seen immediately, don’t wait, there’s an emergency rural clinic in Nayeong, it’s about a two and a half hour drive but it’s a tiny, sleepy town where no one’s going to ask a lot of questions. Plus, if he hasn’t had his license revoked, the old doc that runs the clinic should be pretty easy to buy silence from, as long as he can get his liquor at the end of the day,” you share and Hwang Hyunjin smiles at you.

“What about your silence?” he asks, “Can that be bought?”

You shake your head, “I could get fired for what just happened, it breaks every protocol we have here, but I won’t say a word as long as you never come back to this hospital, I don’t want to see your face again, you hear me? Keep whatever dangerous shit you all are wrapped up in far away from here.”

“You got it Doll,” he smiles then slams the van door and slinks around to disappear into the passenger side.

You let out a shaky breath as you watch them drive off, realizing for the first time just how scared you’d been. You gather yourself for a moment then go back to your own car, you’ll go home and wash - no, burn - these scrubs that are now covered in blood, you’ll take a hot shower and you’ll go to sleep and forget about the three criminals you just assisted. In eleven hours you’ll have to be back here like it never happened.

The next morning, you should have seen it coming, should’ve known that there would be a man propped up against your car waiting for you. This time it’s Minho, the man you removed a bullet from. A small part of you is relieved to see he is up, standing, and looking decently okay though you can tell he’s sore by the way he stands with his hand pressed to his lower left side. The rest of you however, is just plain mad.

“I told you not to come back here,” you frown.

“Well, yes, but technically you were speaking to my guy,” he smirks.

“Oh, well I am so sorry for the confusion,” you roll your eyes, “but I meant all of you need to stay far, far away. Now, leave me alone before I get into actual trouble.”

“I only wanted to say thank you-,”

“You’re welcome!” you snap, “Now leave.”

“I like you,” he sucks at his lip and grins with amusement, “I wasn’t sure, but you have quite a bite to you, and now I’m certain.”

“What are you rambling about?”

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

You snort, “Not interested.”

He moves his arm and slides an envelope out from underneath his jacket then hands it to you, “Reconsider.”

You open the flap and peer inside. Money. Several stacks of money. In fact, you’ve never seen this much cash in person in your entire life. It makes your mouth go dry and you quickly close the flap and tightly clutch the envelope in your fists.

“What the Hell?” you seethe.

“That’s just my payment for yesterday, a simple Thank You. However, if you agree to come work for me, I can guarantee that kind of money regularly and promise that you’ll never want for anything ever again.”

You look at the envelope then back at him.

“I’m not a criminal,” you say.

“I’m not asking you to be a criminal, Kitten. I’m asking you to continue what you already do, just at a much higher pay rate,” he smiles.

“And what else?” you raise a brow, “Because if memory serves me right, when you make a deal with the Devil it always comes with a price.”

He shrugs, “All I’d ask of you in return is your silence, to keep what you hear and see a secret. To be someone I can trust, that’s all.”

You shake your head, “I have a job, I don’t need your money,” you extend the envelope back to him.

“Liar.”

“Pardon me?”

“You need that money, ___. You have over eighty thousand in student loan debt, you’re behind on nearly all of your utility payments, if you’re late one more time with rent your landlord has threatened to evict you, and no offense but this car looks like it’s one winter away from completely breaking down.”

“How the Hell do you know all that?” you fume.

“I always do background checks on my employees,” he smiles. “I’m not going to sit here and force you into anything, but I cannot tell you how beneficial it would be for me to have a medical professional on standby. It would help protect my guys tremendously.”

“I’m just a nurse,” you tell him, “I’m not a surgeon or anything like that. I don’t know how useful I can be for you.”

“Why underestimate yourself, Kitten? You saved my life yesterday morning, you knew exactly what to do, and the only reason you sent us to the rural clinic is because you didn’t have the resources to finish the job. I can get you those resources, I can get you anything you ask for.”

“How much are we talking, pay scale I mean?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“You’ll get a black card with your name on it and unlimited credit, I’ll place you in one of my safe houses on the edge of the city, a beautiful home in an expensive neighborhood, I’ll also give you a car - you can select it or I can take a wild guess at what you like - and I’ll pay out your lease, your student loans, your utilities and get all your affairs taken care of for you so all you have to do is give the hospital notice and show up at this address when you’re ready,” he hands you a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it.

“Just like that? I agree to work for you, I quit my job, and you just make all my problems go away?”

“Just like that.”

“Do you do bad things?” you look at him, “I need to know.”

He takes a calm breath and nods, “Yes. I do bad things.”

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I work in certain…legal gray areas…but I’m afraid if you want to know the details then you’ll have to agree to our arrangement first,” he explains.

“If I decide I don’t like it? What happens to me then?”

“We’d have to cross that bridge when we come to it, Kitten.”

Great, how very reassuring.

“If I say no?”

“Then you say no, you can keep that envelope of cash and put it toward your debt, and you’ll never see me again.”

You can’t quite explain why the thought of never seeing him again is disappointing. All he wants is for you to nurse wounds. He’s not asking you to do anything you wouldn’t be doing anyway. Yet a heavy feeling sinks into your stomach, like perhaps this is all a mistake. You choose to ignore it though.

“Okay,” you nod.

He raises a brow, “Okay…what?”

“I’ll work for you.”

“You don’t want to think about it?” he grins.

“If I think about it I’ll decline,” you shrug, “I’ll call my supervisor when I get home, she should be settling into her office by the time I get there. I’ll be at this address tomorrow morning at 9am.”

“Wow. I did not think it would be that easy,” he laughs.

“I’m not a bad person, I don’t do bad things, but I’m tired of living the way I have been,” you admit.

“I know you’re not a bad person, I knew that the second you crawled into that van yesterday,” he agrees. “But good, I’m glad you accepted. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m kind of scared of you,” you call to him as he trots off.

He turns, a smile on his face, “You kind of should be, Kitten.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Any word yet?” you walk into the living room where Christopher paces back and forth.

“Nothing yet,” he shakes his head, looking at his phone for good measure.

It’s nearly 1:30am. Minho, Hyunjin and the rest left around nine o’clock. Four and a half hours of radio silence. Four and a half hours of not knowing if they’re okay.

You sit in the arm chair, the same one Minho sat in the night he watched Hyunjin fuck you on the couch. The corners of your lips twitch into a tiny, satisfied smile but soon turn back into a frown, will he ever sit in this chair again? You screw your eyes shut and try to destroy that thought, cast it out of your head and burn it with fire.

The time seems to pass at an alarmingly and unnaturally slow pace. You just sit, silently listening to the ticking of the wall clock, occasionally watching Christopher pace, then sit and rub his legs with his palms, only to stand up and start pacing again. You get it, so you don’t scold him, but it is grating on your nerves.

“Should we call someone?” you ask, knowing what the answer is but hoping Christopher is worried enough to break the rules.

“No, if we call in the middle of something we compromise everything. We wait, someone will call when there’s something to call about,” he says.

You nod, accepting, but hating this answer.

“What if it was a trap? Or what if the police got them? Or…”

“Stop it ___. You’re not helping anything,” he huffs.

“It’s been almost six hours now,” you point out, trying to keep your bottom lip from trembling, fighting back tears.

“I know but we can’t-,”

Christophers voice is cut off by tires squealing into the driveway. You get up and practically sprint to the front door before Chris pulls you back, his weapon drawn just in case.

You wait eagerly, listening to the sound of car doors slamming and quick footsteps, your skin practically vibrates with nauseous anticipation.

Minho bursts through the door first, he blows right past Christopher and rushes you, his arms coming around you tightly. You’re about to ask where Hyunjin is but you see him follow close behind, greeting you the same way and the three of you stand there in an embrace for a few moments.

“Is everything…” you trail off, not sure what to ask first.

“Everything is fine now baby,” he tilts your chin up and kisses your lips.

“Everyone made it out?” you continue.

“Everyone made it out, not a scratch,” he grins, and you think you might see happy tears glossing his eyes.

“Just like that?” you say, practically in disbelief.

“Just like that.”

“Taehyung is ruined,” Hyunjin grins, lighting a cigarette and opening a nearby window, “We got our guns back, his heroin is burning even as we speak and if that wasn’t enough, just like our warehouse explosion attracted investigators, his will too, except this time they’ll find the remnants of so much heroin that all eyes will shift to Taehyung, no one will give a flying fuck about us, at least for a long time.”

“Is Taehyung…dead?” you wonder.

“No,” Minho shakes his head, “but I bet he wishes he was, and that’s good enough for me.”

“He won’t retaliate?” you don’t believe that someone like Taehyung would just roll over and take it.

“I don’t see how he could,” Minho shakes his head, “The bastard is going to have to go into hiding, if he even so much as walks into daylight investigators will be on him so fast he’ll be in a prison cell by the time he draws a breath.”

“So, it’s just…over?”

“For now, yes. It’s over. Kim Taehyung loses.”

Something doesn’t feel right, but you decide not to worry about it. Everyone seems so celebratory, opening bottles of expensive liquor and laughing. A win is a win, and they desperately needed a win.

You spectate for a while, smiling at the ease and happiness in the room. You feel a sense of pride, which is something you’d never imagine yourself feeling for these men. You retreat upstairs, tired from worrying and coming down from the adrenaline rush.

You’re not necessarily surprised when you hear Hyunjin slip into the bedroom and you watch in the darkness as he strips himself of his clothes and slides in with you, his body pressing against yours, his hands sliding underneath your tee shirt, palming one of your breasts.

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth, rolling you onto your back so he can fit his fingers snugly against your cunt. You moan into his mouth as he pushes into you, twisting and pushing you to pleasure.

“I love you too,” you say, taking his face between your hands, you throw your leg over his hip to give him better access.

The door opens again and Minho stares through the darkness.

“Well, I feel left out,” he huffs playfully, locking the door behind him. He begins to remove his clothes as he walks around to slide into the other side of the bed.

“Just a warm up Boss,” Hyunjin whispers, leaning over you to capture Minhos mouth with his own.

The warmth you feel in your heart, in your very bones is like nothing you could ever experience anywhere else. Safe between them both, surrounded by passion and love and heat.

“Fuck me,” you rasp against Minhos mouth and he slides between your legs, granting your wish while Hyunjin worships your sensitive nipples.

“I love you,” you whisper, “I love you both so much, fuck,” you moan.

The danger is gone, and the three of you relish in the relief until the sky turns a light gray color, taking turns touching and kissing and fucking, cat napping between. It’s perfect, you think, everything is perfect now.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Fuck me, has anyone heard from Kim Seungmin for Gods sake?” Minho grumbles loudly as he walks through the kitchen.

“I think he’s been holed up with that girl he met,” Hyunjin answers, setting his pencil down on top of his sketchpad.

“What girl?”

“Who knows, with Seungmin it’s a new girl every month,” Hyunjin chuckles, “Why? What’s got your panties in such a twist?”

“He and Jisung are supposed to be delivering the guns to the Min organization in one hour and he’s not answering his fucking phone,” Minho explains.

“Get Felix to go, or Christopher - it’s high time he starts doing a bit more than just driving everyone around, let Seungmin have his fun,” Hyunjin waves him off.

“He really does need all the sex he can get,” you laugh, “the man is a total ass most of the time, anything to soften that blow.”

“You two are making me soft, I swear to God,” Minho complains, “but fine. Chris can help with the delivery and Seungmin can continue getting his dick wet to spare us all of his nasty attitude.”

“What time do we need to be at the Park meeting?” Hyunjin asks.

“We should have left twenty minutes ago,” Minho sighs, “Will you be alright? Here alone?” he looks at you.

“Yes, I need to organize some things, and I’ll probably just take a bubble bath and go to bed scrolling through baby registry items,” you smile.

It’s been over a month since anyone heard from Kim Taehyung, with most believing he fled the country to avoid detection from investigators. His name and footage of his warehouse burning had been on the news for weeks, but no information had turned up. Kim Taehyung isn’t coming back anytime soon.

“Okay, our phones will be on silent during the meeting, but text us as soon as you lay down, alright Love?” Minho kisses your cheek and you nod.

“I will, I love you both, be careful.”

Hyunjin kisses the top of your head, “Always Doll.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You’re scrolling through Pinterest for nursery ideas when your screen is interrupted by a text.

Hurt bad, need help at the old warehouse -KSM

You narrow your eyes, opening the number and pressing the call button. It rings, rings and rings until you get to the voicemail. Kim Seungmin. You know what to do. BEEP.

“Hey, what’s going on? Call me back…”

You hang up the phone and wait. Five minutes turns into ten minutes turns into fifteen. You’re starting to get nervous when your phone pings with another message.

It’s not safe to talk. I’m at the warehouse and need help. I can’t move myself.

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. Seungmin knows better than this, and you think he must be really fucked up if he’s asking this of you.

You open up the message again, On my way.

You get dressed and grab a bag, stuffing random supplies in.

Before you go you call Minho, it goes to voicemail, which is probably a good thing because he might actually kill you for doing what you’re about to do but something in your gut is telling you that Seungmin needs you. So you leave him a message telling him what happened and where you’re going. For good measure you leave Hyunjin a voicemail too. Then you load up the car and start driving.

Seungmins truck is parked in front of the burnt and disheveled remains of the warehouse. The drivers side door is open, the interior light is on and you can see blood spatter all over the inside of the door. Your skin erupts in chills and you scream when your phone starts ringing. Minho.

“Hello?” you answer breathlessly.

“Where the fuck are you? And you better not say at that fucking warehouse!” Minhos voice is angry.

“I am,” you answer softly, still staring at Seungmins truck.

“Fuck!” Minho yells into the phone.

“Baby somethings wrong,” you say.

“What? Is Seungmin there with you?” his voice is suddenly laced with fear under all that steely ice.

“His truck is here, but I don’t see him, I just pulled up,” you answer, “I think he’s inside, but there’s blood all over the inside of his truck,” you tell him.

“Do not go into that building, do you hear me? Hyunjin and I are on our way, for fucks sake please baby don’t go inside without us,” he pleads.

“I need to find Seungmin,” you say defiantly, “Something is clearly wrong.”

“No!” he bellows, “Do not go in there without backup. Do you hear me? ___?”

“I hear you!” you finally yell back and hang up the phone. “But just because I heard you doesn’t mean I have to listen,” you whisper. You toss your phone into the passenger seat and grab your first aid bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you approach the broken and tattered entrance.

“Seungmin?” you look around at the burnt debris. Why the fuck would he come here? It’s an utter mess.

“Seungmin! Where are you?” you hiss into the darkness.

You hear a gargled cough from another room and follow it, your blood pressure steadily rising. Something isn’t right.

When you enter the room you can smell the blood. You scan the room twice before you see it, the lump of a body laying in the far corner.

“Oh my god…”

You rush to him, falling to your knees, your bag thumping on the ground next to you. He’s been shot, multiple times, a pool of blood underneath him. He’s pale, God he’s so pale.

“Seun…Seungmin?” you tap the side of his face, tears stinging your eyes. His lids slowly open and he looks up at you. Something changes, you see fear.

“No…” he shakes his head back and forth, which seems to expend all of his energy, “Why did you come…why did…” he coughs again, bright red blood sputtering from his mouth, hitting your tee shirt and your arms.

“Oh God, Seungmin, what did they do?” you look at his abdomen, his chest - riddled with bullet wounds. Your blood runs absolutely cold, your very spirit leaves your soul.

You cannot fix this. No one could.

“Am I?” he looks up at you. Am I going to die? That’s what he’s asking, and yes, he is. You clench your jaw to stop yourself from crying. Don’t cry.

You smile, lean down and smooth his hair off his forehead, “No. You’re fine, you’re going to be just fine Seungmin. Soon you and I will be bickering over something or another,” you laugh, continuing to pet his hair with your fingers.

He nods, but his eyes scrunch up and tears flood down the sides of his face, into his hairline. He doesn’t believe you, they never do, but he’ll play along to make it easier, and that’s what you’re here for now.

“You know,” you say, twirling his hair, “Minho and Hyunjin make a good team, but he was wrong about one thing,” you smile, “Hyunjin isn’t the best he’s got, you are. You’re the best soldier Minho has, and he’s hard on you because he knows it’s true.”

“No….shit…” Seungmin chuckles, and so do you. You stretch your tee shirt out to wipe the blood that seeped from his mouth from his efforts.

“They’ll be here soon, okay? Can you wait with me?” you ask softly.

At this Seungmin becomes alarmed, his eyes widening and head shaking back and forth frantically.

“Hey, calm down, be still…”

“Get out…you have to…not alone…” he rasps, his words garbled from blood.

“Seungmin…you’re not alone honey, you’re not alone, shhh,” you soothe.

He shakes his head again and tries to say the words, he tries so hard and you wait, you will his lips to speak, but instead the light fades from his eyes and his body goes still.

“Seungmin?”

You sit there for several seconds silently, your fingers still smoothing his hair, and then you sob. You press your forehead against his and sob, scream, and cry until your whole body hurts.

“I’m sorry,” you wail, your body heaving with cries. “I’m so sorry!” and you’re not sure if you’re sorry because you couldn’t save him, sorry because of the way you’ve spoken to him in the past, or sorry that any of this ever happened at all.

“___?”

Minhos voice is shaky as you look up from Seungmins lifeless body.

“Hyunjin is doing a perimeter-,” Minho takes a step forward but stops when he sees Seungmin laying there. He covers his mouth and he turns his body away as if he can’t bear to look, then he turns around again rushing over and dropping to his knees.

“Fuck,” Minho gasps, he strokes Seungmins face with the back of his trembling fingers, grabs Seungmins hand in his. “Fuck…” he sobs.

“I couldn’t…” you cry, unable to finish the sentence. “Minho I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

The voice doesn’t belong to Minho, and before you can really process this fact, someone is pulling you up off the floor by your hair.

The smell of burnt ashes, wet cigarettes and pathetic overwhelms your nostrils nearly to the point of gagging.

Kim Taehyung. Seungmin wasn’t trying to tell you he didn’t want to be alone, he was trying to tell you that the two of you were not alone. You suspect it also wasn’t Seungmin who texted you. You’ve been baited and you walked right into the trap.

Minho is up like a shot, the gun he keeps strapped to his ankle pointed at Taehyung.

“Nu-uh-uh,” you hear Taehyung growl, feel the cold hard metal of a gun barrel flush against your temple. “Set it down or I swear to God the last thing I do is blow this bitches brains all over the place,” he tells Minho and you choke out another sob. “Set it down!” he yells, the very walls reverberating from his anger.

Minho grimaces, but bends over to set the pistol on the ground.

“Kick it across the room,” Taehyung continues, “NOW!”

Angry, Minho kicks the pistol and the three of you watch it spin over the concrete floor across the space.

“What are you doing Taehyung? What do you want? It’s over,” Minho lifts his hands up.

“It is,” Taehyung spits, “It is over. It’s over for me, but I don’t care.”

“Clearly,” Minho seethes.

“One thing I’m better at than you Lee is taking,” Taehyung chuckles darkly, “You take things, my Heroin for example, and that’s good, good job, but I take your fucking life, no…I take your fucking will to live. Just like with Seola, except this time you get to watch.”

Taehyung cocks the gun against your head and you shudder.

“I’m pregnant!” you scream in a last ditch effort to find a shred of humanity inside this monster.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung rasps against your ear, “Congratulations.”

He drags the barrel of the gun from your head, down between your shoulders, and stops at the small of your back, “Maybe let’s blow your belly out first then?”

“Jesus fucking Christ Taehyung!” Minho screams, “Just kill me.”

Your head snaps up to look at Minho and you can feel Taehyung smiling with glee.

“Kill me you fucking pathetic piece of shit! That’s your end goal, always has been, so just fucking do it you worthless son of a bitch! I’m so fucking tired of this…”

“Stop!” you cry.

“I want you to suffer,” Taehyung growls, you can feel his head shaking back and forth, “I want you to watch her die and know that it never would’ve happened if you’d left her alone, that it’s because of you she’s standing in this fucking room!”

“I love you baby, I love you Lee Minho,” you cry, looking at him.

“Say goodbye to her Minho, say it,” Taehyung urges.

“I don’t fucking think so!”

Hyunjin yells from the doorway, loaded gun pointed in your direction.

Too many things happen at once. You can hear gunshots going off like firecrackers, you hear Minho scream something so loudly it somehow overpowers the crack of bullets flying. You end up on your knees with your hands over your ears until you see the gun Taehyung was holding drop beside you on the ground. You risk permanent deafness pulling your hands away to scramble for it and you get it, snatching it from Taehyungs reach a mere half second before his fingers land.

You have no time to think about Hyunjins training session at the gun range, you point the barrel at Taehyungs face and pull the trigger. You can feel warm, wet pieces of matter that you refuse to look at or acknowledge hit the front of your body and you don’t need to look twice to know Taehyung is gone.

Taking the gun you scramble over, falling several times because you can’t seem to control your body anymore, towards Hyunjin and Minho. The smell of flesh and gunpowder and death everywhere.

Hyunjin sits on his knees, his body trembles, pupils so blown out he looks like he’s on drugs, “He saved me…he saved me…stupid mother fucker…stupid…” Hyunjins face distorts into a look of such pain that there are no words to describe it, and then he screams.

“No, no, no,” you shake your head and leap onto Minho, who is being too still, turning him over from his side to his back. Just like Seungmin, Minhos chest is riddled with bullets, one right through his heart.

“No. No, he’s got a vest. He’s got a vest…” you start ripping off his shirt, already soaked with blood, it coats your fingers causing them to slip over the smooth buttons. “No, no, no.”

“There wasn’t time…” Hyunjin chokes. “We didn’t have time he said…there’s no time…”

You press your fingers against his neck and feel no pulse, then against his wrist…still nothing.

“Wake up baby, wake up,” you beg, you smack his face and shake his shoulders, “WAKE THE FUCK UP!!” you scream so loud it rips your throat to shreds. “Please!”

The life is gone from his eyes as they stare at nothing and you start to lose it. You can’t breathe, and all you can do is whimper.

“He jumped in front of me,” Hyunjin repeats, sobbing as he grabs Minhos face in his hands. “Why would you do that…stupid…” he cries, his tears dripping off of his own face onto Minhos.

“Call an ambulance,” you command through gritted teeth, you get up on your knees and press the heel of your palm into his chest and pump.

“Baby…” Hyunjin sobs.

“Call a fucking ambulance!” you scream hoarsely, counting time in your head. You ignore the sinking feeling you’ve had so many times as a nurse, ignore the fact that if you were in the ER right now, looking at anyone other than someone you love, you’d be waiting for the physician to call the time. You ignore everything.

“He’s gone ___,” Hyunjin cries, placing his hand over yours.

“No!” you scream.

You didn’t get tricked into coming here. You didn’t just sit with Seungmin while he died. You didn’t just blow Kim Taehyungs face off and Minho isn’t dead.

You repeat it over and over.

“He’s gone,” Hyunjin says, crawling over to you, “He’s gone.”

You scream into Hyunjins chest as your body shudders with sobs.

He’s gone.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Come on hun, you two need to get out of here.”

It’s Felix. You look up into his big eyes, swollen and red with his own tears.

You look down, Hyunjin lays next to Minho quietly sobbing into the floor.

“We need to get you out of here sweetheart,” Felix places his hand on your shoulder but you push it off slowly with your fingers.

“Please,” Felix sniffles, “We’ve got to get everyone out of here,” he looks around and shudders with new tears, “all of you.”

You crawl across the floor, through the blood, and lean over Minho. You pick the weight of his arm up, cup his hand to your face and lean into it like you do so often. The lack of warmth from his skin brings on a new set of painful sobs.

“I love you,” you whimper. “I don’t want to go anywhere, not without you.”

“Get them out,” Changbin tells Felix and the others, trying to steady his voice, “Get them home. Pick them up if you have to.”

You can feel Felix look at you but he decides to try his luck with Hyunjin instead. Instead it’s Christopher who kneels in front of you, wipes his nose with the back of his arm.

“Come on, it’s time,” he tucks his arm under your knees and braces your back while he lifts you up.

“I couldn’t save him,” you weep into the crook of his neck.

“You were never going to save him sweetheart, he never wanted to be saved.”

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Miss ___?”

Through the blur of people you look up to see Kim Namjoon approaching you. You sip your water, wishing it was whiskey, but you’re still pregnant despite your mind, body and spirit being completely broken. Somehow the baby made it through the trauma and it’s your job to take care of him. Him. You can’t really say how you know, but you do.

“Mr. Kim, thank you for coming,” you force a smile, smoothing out the skirt of your black dress.

“Of course,” Namjoon clears his throat, “Lee was a friend, I’m so sorry that we’ve lost him.”

Lost isn’t good enough, you think. Lost things can be found. What you feel is so much greater than loss, you feel erased. Annihilated. You feel nothing.

“Uh,” Mr. Kim sits in the chair next to you and you realize you’ve been silent for several moments, “Minho asked me to give you this, he left it to you.”

He pulls a white envelope from the inside of his jacket and hands it to you. It feels heavy in your hands and you look at Namjoon with confusion.

“We weren’t married, I’m not owed anything,” you glance over at Changbin and the rest of Minhos loyal men, “whatever he’s left should be divided between them.”

“No you misunderstand, this isn’t something he gave to me as a client to a lawyer, it’s not a will. This is something he gave to me as a friend and asked me to hold it for safekeeping, but to make sure you received it if anything were to happen to him.”

“What is it?” you ask, running your fingertip over the edges of the envelope.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon shrugs, “He didn’t tell me to look at it, just told me to keep it safe for you. There’s something heavy in it though, a trinket or something? I’m not sure.”

Namjoon stands and gives you a sympathetic smile, “I’m truly sorry, he loved you very much Miss ___, I hope you knew that.”

“I did,” you say but the words get lost on your lips, turning into a raspy whisper as your throat begins to swell with a sob, “Excuse me.”

You clutch the envelope to your chest and retreat from the room, briefly making eye contact with Hyunjin, who is about as sociable at this funeral as you are, which is to say not at all. You can feel him following close behind.

“You okay?” he asks when you end up in an empty sitting area near the back of the funeral parlor.

“No,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your cries.

Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, a gesture that used to put you at total ease, but now it feels lacking, like Minho was a necessary piece to a three part puzzle. A piece that’s been destroyed so the puzzle can never really be whole again.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hyunjin says with no explanation, and you don’t know what exactly he means by it. He doesn’t know what to do with you? With himself? Or what to do about anything at all? Same, you think.

“I miss him too much,” you cry into his shoulder. None of this feels real.

“I know,” Hyunjin chokes on a sob, “I know baby, me too.”

The envelope, still clutched to your chest crunches between the two of you.

“What is that?” he sniffs, looking at the paper.

“I don’t know, Namjoon said Minho wanted me to have it in case…well…”

You sit on a chair and push your finger under the flap, ripping the paper.

A key falls out of the envelope into your hand as you pluck a letter out.

Hey Kitten,

You promised you’d keep Scotland in the back of your mind, right? I don’t want to go anywhere without you either, but just in case we do have to be apart, I want to know that you, Hyunjin, and our baby are all safe. If you’re reading this, I guess it means I can’t come with you, but you deserve to start over, you all deserve to live a normal life without safe houses, without guns or makeshift surgery centers. So go. Start over. I’m so sorry that I was broken when we met, but you patched me up baby, and I love you so much. Tell Hyunjin to take care of you, to keep drawing in that stupid book of his, and that I love him too. When the baby is old enough, tell them about me, okay? Tell them I loved them with my whole heart, and I’m sorry I can’t be there.

All my love,

Minho

“Scotland,” you whisper and hold the key over your heart.

“What?” Hyunjin looks at you bewildered, “What is all this?”

You wipe the tears off your cheeks, “It’s Minho. Keeping us safe one last time.”

Endnotes:

1. I cried writing the first draft of this ngl and kinda hated myself, then by like my third or fourth proof read I was like desensitized to it kinda? Anywho. I hope no one is legitimately angry with me😬😓 I promise this was my plan from the start and not a wild card draw. One more chapter left💙

2. Will tag my besties in the comments!! Here’s a virtual kiss 😘 and maybe also a virtual warm hug and sympathetic pat on the back? 🫂🫂🫂

#skz fanfiction #hyunjin fanfiction #lee minho fanfiction #skz smut #hyunjin smut #Lee know smut #skz romance #lee know romance #hyunjin romance #hwang hyunjin #Lee Minho #skz x reader

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narusasuart · 2 days ago

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I wanted a side by side comparison. Not to be that person but I really love how these turned out. It's rare that I do a series and am as happy with the second part as I am with the first, so let me post it twice and yap about it OK? 😁

You can find them separately here: SNS & STSG

Also, I figured out some art stuff lately that I will talk about under the cut if you're interested.

Coloring used to be my nemesis. I often think my works look flat, so I dial up the saturation to make up for it but while I do like very saturated works that is ultimately not what I want to achieve. So lately I've figured out two things (which are closely related actually, if not the same thing on different levels).

1. Color variation. Our eyes may perceive an object and our brains translate it to being one color but it's not. Every color only works in the context of its surroundings, light bounces back and forth and there is always some slight color variation that our brain just chooses not to perceive. (You can train it to perceive it though.) So that is something that works for me when it comes to making images look less flat. I use one color for a plane but then I take a few completely different colors to paint over the boring flat plane in a really low opacity. It doesn't even have to be very visible, but it does wonders.

2. Bounce lights bounce lights bounce lights. This is closely related to the first point. Light, especially strong light bounces back and forth. So if two planes with different colors are next to each other they will reflect onto each other if there's enough light. In the left image, the orange of Naruto's jacket reflects onto Sasuke's shirt (it's barely there, just a slight difference in hue) while the gray of Sasuke's shirt also reflects back on Naruto's jacket.

I am always learning something while I draw and I love that. This is probably nothing new to the more experienced artists out there but maybe someone at the beginning of their art journey will profit from it.

#sns #stsg #my art #sasunaru #narusasu #satosugu #art rant

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runawaydr3amerao3 · 1 day ago

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📚 Fic Recs: Orphaned Wincest works by 🍏🥧🚪 @goshen-applecrumbledore.

In the wake of the @idlingintheimpalapodcast interview with Roni @goshen-applecrumbledore that 🎙️came out last week, I wanted to make a rec post of their orphaned works on AO3. (And don't worry, if you listen to the episode, you'll hear they're chill about this.)

First of all, though, if Roni's pen name is new to you, do yourself a favour and open this in a tab for later, then come back:

Okay, done? Excellent. Now, these orphaned ones aren't new fics or even newly discovered, but I hardly ever hear them talked about outside of Discord servers, so I suspect they'll be new and exciting to somebody. In which case, happy thanksgivvo, mates!

All below fics are Wincest (Sam/Dean) and Explicit.

📖 Home Is Sam-shaped

Author's Tags: Season/Series 04, First Time, Pining, Dean POV, Case Fic

Words: ~16,000

Summary:

"It was great not thinking about our stupid thing for ten whole minutes," Dean said. "How many ten-minute intervals are there between now and when we die?" Sam was looking at his mouth, and now that he knew to look for it, he wondered how often he'd missed it before. "Depends on how soon I can put a bullet in my brain," Sam croaked.

Sequel:

📖 Born stupid

Author's Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Season/Series 05, Sam POV

Words: ~17,000

Summary:

“Are you mad ‘cause we’re gonna kill your worthless brother?” The demon grinned, his breath reeking of blood and death. “Word on the street is, you two been dippin’ the pen in the, uh, family ink.” Cold sweat bloomed on the back of Sam’s neck.

📖 I simply am not there

Author's Tags: Season/Series 06, Pining, Robo-Sam, no non-con, Dean POV

Words: ~17,500

Summary:

Talking to Sam without a soul felt like a fucked-up monkey paw wish: Sam knew his secret and he wasn’t mad about it, but he also didn’t care at all. It was like they were talking about Dean shrinking his shirt in the wash. Oh, you're a little in love with me? Maybe since always? That's cool, man, don't worry about it.

📖 Wednesdays on earth

Author's Tags: Ficlet Collection, Pre-Canon, Voyeurism, Season/Series 03, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot (Supernatural), Season/Series 04, POV Outsider, Implied future wincestiel pining, minor Ruby/Sam, Canonical Character Death, Season/Series 01, Suggested threesome - M/M/F, Getting Together

Words: ~20,600

Summary:

Ficlet collection. Two brothers steal propane, lie to each other in a time loop, vex angels, fuck about their feelings, fumble a threesome, and kiss for good luck.

There you have it. I put the squeeze on Roni but they would cop to no more orphans running around out there, so I think that might be it, y'all. If you haven't read them before, go! Enjoy! If you have read them before, you'll probably go and enjoy them again some time soon because you already know they're awesome. 😂

Thank you to the archive adventurers who first found these orphaned treasures for us all to enjoy, and thank you to Roni for leaving them there to be found. 🙏 We are lucky, lucky readers. 🥰

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fuckyeahisawthat · 19 hours ago

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Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

#dune #dune messiah #story structure #adaptation #paul atreides #chani kynes #umm #dune messiah spoilers #i guess??#is this really necessarily for a 55 year old book idk

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cynthiav06 · 2 days ago

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Annabeth stans and Percabeth shippers are talking about how ooc Annabeth is in WOTTG with her thinking Percy is stupid as if she hasn't constantly made fun of Percy's intelligence since the very beginning. As if she doesn't do it in every book, multiple times. Rick's characterization of Annabeth isn't changing, people are finally just growing up and realizing their fave ship when they were 12 isn't healthy. But instead of actually acknowledging that it's a bad ship they just blame the author.

Warnings: This is going to be a rant; bear with me. People from the "take everything as a personal offense" group stop reading. Will give us both the luxury of a peaceful mind.

It's easier to blame Rick, I think, given his series of shit decisions. The Wrath of a Triple Goddess is a complete abomination, and so is Chalice of the Gods in many ways. But at least it has helped readers understand the glaring flaws of Percabeth as a ship. How Percy's character is butchered to hype up Annabeth.

And I am completely exhausted of trying to get any of them to think rationally and in an unbiased manner. I can't make a willfully blind individual see sense after all.

But yeah, Annabeth has many, and I mean many character flaws throughout the series. The number of times I have made a post on Annabeth's flaws or even why Percabeth is incompatible.... At this point, I believe open-minded and careful readers are going to see and make their own conclusions, and the blind shippers will keep doing their own thing. This , I think, was my most recent post and will probably be one of my last ones on a similar topic. Unless I get newer asks that have some different viewpoints that I can actually explore cause, all has been said so far, I think.

I had a feeling that things would get better as they got older, more mature, you know, an Annabeth character arc of some sort. Maybe exploring the positive and negative nuances of Percabeth or even Percy's suicidal thoughts, non existent self esteem and how Annabeth has been unknowingly feeding into those.

She is one of the more iconic characters to people even outside the fandom. One from a very, very , and exclusive pool of actually strong female characters and the way her character is devolving isn't helping anything.

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

All of Riordan's characters have such high potential, and the amount of plots he could explore is staggering, and yet he still dishes out the same generic plot again and again. He is in it for the money now, has been for a while, and so there's no hope there.

This might be a very hot take, but I think romance ruined the series. Rick kept slapping romantic relationships on every character as if that would suddenly make things better. Give them a relationship rather than explore their trauma. I guess it's the easier of the two.

But seriously, Caleo? Jiper? Solangelo ? (I can see the hate comments already). Whatever he was doing with Reyna, but at least she wasn't completely butchered.

Rick's problem is that he keeps giving more importance to romantic relationships and makes that the entire personality of a character.

He butchered Percy, even Jason at times, Leo bloody Valdez and Nico more prominently.

The way Percy and Nico's very deep and volatile bond and heavily dynamic relationship was butchered and distorted to feed into Solangelo and Percabeth, and I can't possibly understate how highly that's been going on.

Then Luke and Thalia's relationship was completely butchered for no absolute reason. I have no idea why. They were in love or at least had romantic feelings for each other, and Thalia just woke up and wanted to kill him? He literally gave all the angst to Annabeth even though Thalia had known him longer, and they had a more nuanced bond.

Jason's relationship with Camp Jupiter individuals was completely scrapped, his and Reyna's dynamic completely watered down, or even his and Leo's great friendship discarded all for Jiper or whatever else was shoved at him.

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

As opposed to this whole shit show, I loved the relationships in the Magnus Chase series and Kane Chronicles. That was good stuff. Both character relationships and romantic ones even though I am pretty sure he got a lot of diverse representation wrong or so I have read recently.

Then there's the stupid, blind, bigot part of the fandom that just can't help themselves. I mean dumb Percy takes, Annabeth stans ruining Percy's character arcs and overinflating Annabeth's character, which in turn made Rick do the same.Then the boring Jason thing? What the hell was that? It's like everyone missed the point of why Jason is the way he is. I am going to make a post on that soon, but seriously, the shit that's been going on.

Then the shippers. Solangelo stans and Percabeth stans. They have single handedly ruined the ships for me with their distorted ideas of character dynamics. And their blatant and brutal hate against other Percy or Nico ships is just ridiculous and heavily toxic.

It's a fandom, not a monopoly. Everyone can have their own little thing as long as you don't meddle in someone else's own thing. Let everyone enjoy their own thing.

And for all our sakes, at this point, just pick your own version of canon. Choose which books to stop at. Trust me, it's less frustrating that way.

#annabeth chase #percy jackson #nico di angelio #jason grace #leo valdez and jason grace #Annabeth chase character study #rr crit #rick riordan critical #percy and annabeth #percy and nico #luke Castellan #luke and thalia #thalia grace #the seven #anti wottg #reyna avila ramirez arellano #percico #perachel

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domm1etae · 2 days ago

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sent to tempt me - chapter two

chapter two: unsettled

chapter summary: Expecting someone quiet and bookish, Yunho is shocked by Mingi’s effortless confidence, tattoos, and the way he fills the room. As the day unfolds, Yunho can’t stop thinking about Mingi and the pull he feels. But the real shock comes later, when Yunho overhears something that completely upends his expectations..

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.6k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

author's note: guys i am SO lazy to read the chapters i write after myself god damn. also do you like these shorter chapters or do you want longer ones?

The voice carried a playful undertone, but there was something deeper in it that made Yunho’s heart skip a beat, something both light and dangerous. He turned sharply toward the door.

Mingi stood in the doorway, one hand resting casually on the frame, the other holding a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was tall—easily taller than Yunho—and his presence filled the room without him even trying. He had this air about him, effortless and confident, like he belonged here in a way Yunho wasn’t sure he did.

His dark hair was slightly messy, falling into his eyes in a way that looked more intentional than accidental. A single earring glinted against his jawline, and the faintest trace of tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his black t-shirt. His whole look screamed rebellion, freedom—something Yunho hadn’t quite been able to wrap his mind around.

Yunho swallowed hard.

“Oh, uh… I didn’t mean to touch it,” he stammered, quickly stepping back. His face felt hot, and he prayed Mingi wouldn’t notice.

Mingi shrugged, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he dropped his bag onto the couch. He barely looked at Yunho as he plopped down, his posture relaxed and nonchalant, as though he owned the place. One arm rested on the back of the couch, the other draped over his knee, and he settled in like he’d been here for years.

Yunho stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. This wasn’t what he expected. Not at all.

His roommate—this was his roommate? The guy with tattoos, an earring, and the kind of smirk that could make anyone feel like they were the punchline of a joke?

“Nice to meet you, by the way,” Mingi said, his grin widening when he noticed Yunho’s unease.

Yunho felt his stomach twist into knots. His mind raced. This guy—Mingi—wasn’t anything like what he had imagined. In his head, Yunho had pictured someone quiet, reserved, maybe a little nerdy—someone like him, someone who’d want to spend hours reading and discussing novels. But this Mingi, with his relaxed attitude and the aura of danger hanging around him, made Yunho feel small.

“Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you too,” he managed, his voice strained. He hated how it sounded, as though he wasn’t sure of himself. Wasn’t sure of this whole situation.

Mingi raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Yunho for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re Yunho, right? Literature major?”

“Yeah,” Yunho said, gripping the strap of his backpack tightly. His knuckles turned white from the pressure. “And you’re…?”

“Mingi,” he replied simply, leaning back into the couch as if he had all the time in the world. “Also literature. Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Yunho tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. His thoughts were scattered—Why was someone like Mingi studying literature? And why did it feel like the room had gotten ten degrees warmer since Mingi walked in?

Mingi didn’t seem to notice Yunho’s discomfort. His eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, sharp and unreadable, before he stood up and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn.

“Well, I’m gonna unpack,” he said casually, grabbing his duffel bag. “See you around, roomie.”

And with that, he disappeared into the other bedroom, leaving Yunho standing in the middle of the room, his heart still racing. He felt more off-balance than he ever had in his life.

Who the hell is this guy?

Yunho sank onto the edge of the couch, hands clasped in his lap. Mingi’s presence lingered even though he was gone—an invisible weight that pressed against Yunho’s chest. He tried to piece it all together, to make sense of why his roommate felt so… overwhelming.

No. Stop it. You’re just overthinking. Yunho gave his head a quick shake. It didn’t matter who Mingi was or how he carried himself. What mattered was that Yunho was here to study, to focus on literature, and to stay on track.

But something about Mingi—his smirk, his tattoos, the way he filled the room like he belonged in every corner of it—pulled Yunho in. A magnetic, almost irritating draw he couldn’t shake.

No. He cannot think like this. Yunho stood abruptly, forcing himself to unpack. If he kept busy, maybe he could stop thinking about the roommate who had just upended his expectations.

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

The shrill beeping of an alarm jolted Yunho awake. For a moment, he forgot where he was, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. The sunlight streaming through the blinds reminded him: college. Dorm. Roommate.

He rolled out of bed, rubbing his face as he tried to shake off the grogginess. Through the thin walls, he heard movement from the other room—Mingi, probably getting ready. Yunho’s stomach twisted at the thought of seeing him again.

When Yunho stepped into the living room, already dressed, he found Mingi lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. His dark hair was still damp from a shower, and he wore a simple white t-shirt and black jeans. Yunho’s eyes caught on his hands—rings glinting on nearly every finger, his nails painted a glossy black.

Something about the contrast between the rings and the dark polish made Yunho’s chest tighten. It was such a small detail, yet it added to the effortless edge that Mingi seemed to carry, making him even more…

Yunho stopped himself. No. Absolutely not. Stop thinking like that.

“Mornin',” Mingi said, not looking up.

“Morning,” Yunho replied stiffly, keeping his eyes on the floor, he turned abruptly toward the kitchenette, focusing on pouring cereal as if it were the most important task in the world, avoiding the way Mingi seemed so… relaxed, like he had already claimed the space as his own.

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

The campus was alive with the kind of chaotic energy Yunho hated. Crowds of students swarmed every pathway, some looking just as confused as him, while others seemed to move with an easy confidence that made him feel even more out of place. It was overwhelming—the laughter, the shouts, the hum of a thousand conversations happening at once.

Yunho gripped his schedule tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to focus on where he was supposed to go, his other hand ghosting over the rosary he grabed last minute today and put it in his pocket, just to make sure. Intro to Literary Theory. Room 203. Easy enough to find, right?

He weaved through the crowd, dodging groups of friends chatting in the middle of the walkway, and barely managed to avoid tripping over someone’s abandoned skateboard. By the time he found the building, he was already exhausted.

Inside, the lecture hall was massive, rows of seats climbing higher and higher toward the back. Yunho hesitated, scanning the room for a seat that felt… safe. Not too far in the back, where he’d look like a slacker, but not too close to the front either. Eventually, he settled in the middle, pulling out his notebook and pen like it was some kind of armor.

The professor started talking, her voice droning on about the syllabus and expectations, but Yunho couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept circling back to Mingi.

Mingi, who had greeted him so casually that morning, like they’d known each other for years. Mingi, with his damp hair, painted nails, and those stupid silver rings that Yunho couldn’t stop noticing. He’d been sitting on their couch like he owned the place, scrolling through his phone without a care in the world.

It wasn’t fair how someone could seem so effortless. Yunho had barely managed to keep his voice steady when he said “morning,” and even then, it had come out stiff and awkward.

Mingi didn’t have that problem. He moved through life like he belonged everywhere. Like the world had been made to fit him, not the other way around.

Yunho scribbled something in his notebook, not even sure what it was. Why am I thinking about him so much? He forced himself to focus on the lecture, but it was useless.

By lunchtime, Yunho’s brain felt like it had been wrung out like a sponge. He trudged to the cafeteria, hoping to find a quiet corner where he could eat and recharge.

The cafeteria was a zoo. Tables were packed with groups of students laughing, talking, and shouting across the room. The smell of fried food and coffee lingered in the air, making Yunho’s stomach churn. He grabbed a tray and loaded it with something vaguely edible before scanning the room for a free seat.

That’s when he saw him again.

Mingi was sitting at one of the tables near the window, surrounded by people. A group of at least five or six students leaned in close, laughing and talking like they were best friends. And Mingi? He didn’t even have to try.

He wasn’t the one telling jokes or trying to dominate the conversation. No, Mingi just sat there, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin, and everyone else flocked to him like moths to a flame. When he laughed—head thrown back, his whole face lighting up—it was like the whole room noticed.

Yunho hated the way his chest tightened at the sight. He quickly ducked his head and headed for a table in the corner, as far away from the commotion as possible.

Of course he’s already popular. Yunho stabbed at his food with his fork, his appetite gone. It made sense. Someone like Mingi didn’t have to work for attention. He just existed, and people came to him.

Yunho tried to eat, but his eyes kept flicking back to that table. To the way Mingi’s rings caught the light when he gestured. To the way the girls in the group leaned closer, giggling at something he said.

It was infuriating.

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

By the time Yunho got back to the dorm, he was completely drained. His first day of classes had been a blur of new faces, confusing syllabi, and the overwhelming realization that he was way out of his depth.

All he wanted to do was crash on his bed and not think for a while.

But when he walked into the dorm, the sound of voices stopped him in his tracks.

They were coming from Mingi’s room.

Yunho hesitated in the doorway, his ears straining to catch what was being said. The door to Mingi’s door was thin just enough for the sound to drift through—low, muffled laughter and the occasional murmur of conversation.

He already has someone over? Yunho frowned, dropping his bag by the couch. He wasn’t surprised, not really. Mingi seemed like the type to make friends instantly. Outgoing, confident, the kind of person people gravitated toward.

Still, it was annoying. Yunho couldn’t even get through the first day without feeling like he was falling apart, and Mingi was already entertaining guests?

He walked to his own room, sat on his bed and pulled out a book, trying to lose himself in the familiar comfort of words. But the voices he heard from Mingi’s room made it impossible to focus.

Yunho sighed, setting the book aside. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. He decided for a short nap.

Eventually, nature called, and Yunho groaned, peeling himself off the bed. His back cracked as he stretched, and he yawned, rubbing at his tired eyes. The day had drained him, and all he wanted was to pee, maybe grab a glass of water, and go straight to bed again. He shuffled toward the bathroom, still half out of it.

That’s when he heard it.

A moan.

Yunho froze mid-step, his ears perking up like a startled animal.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t be.

But then it came again, soft but unmistakable.

Oh. My. God.

A rush of heat hit his face, and he stood there, awkwardly rooted to the spot. Seriously? Already? It was only the first day of school, and Yunho was overhearing his roommate hooking up? He hadn’t even been here a full twenty-four hours yet!

Yunho’s eyes darted to Mingi’s closed door, his lips pressed into a tight line. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Great. Just great. His mysterious, tattooed, effortlessly cool roommate had someone in his room, and Yunho was here, stuck in the hallway, trying not to combust from secondhand embarrassment.

He shifted awkwardly, debating whether to just head back to his room and forget this ever happened. But then—

Another sound.

This time it wasn’t a moan. It was a groan.

Yunho’s eyes widened. That wasn’t just anyone’s voice—it was Mingi’s.

His heart started to race, and his stomach did a weird little flip. He immediately hated how aware he was of the sound. It was low and rough, and Yunho couldn’t stop himself from hearing it again and again in his head, even after it faded into silence.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? Knock on the door? Run to the bathroom? Pretend he hadn’t heard? His mind scrambled for an answer, but then—

Another sound.

This time it wasn’t Mingi. It was… the other person.

And it was definitely not what Yunho expected.

The moans were soft, breathy, but they weren’t… high-pitched. They weren’t the kind of sounds you’d expect from a girl.

Yunho blinked, his brain halting mid-thought.

Wait. What?

He strained to listen, his face now burning with embarrassment and curiosity he desperately wished he didn’t have. The moans were quieter now, but the tone was unmistakable. Lower. A little deeper. Definitely not feminine.

His stomach flipped again, harder this time, and his brain scrambled to keep up.

No way.

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat as realization started to sink in. His palms felt clammy, and his knees locked up. He stared at the door, willing himself to be wrong, but the sounds kept coming, soft and undeniable.

Mingi wasn’t with a girl.

He was with a guy.

Yunho’s jaw dropped. His heart pounded like a drum, the sound deafening in his ears. A million thoughts raced through his head, none of them coherent.

What. The. Hell.

He’d barely known Mingi for a day, and already his world felt like it was spinning off its axis. Yunho wasn’t sure what shocked him more—the fact that Mingi was hooking up with someone so casually on the first night, or the fact that it was another guy.

He wanted to back away, to escape this hallway and pretend none of this was happening. But he also couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop thinking about how none of this fit the image he’d built of Mingi in his head.

The guy was already a walking enigma: the tattoos, the earrings, the intimidating vibe that somehow drew people in instead of pushing them away. Yunho had spent most of the day trying to figure him out, trying not to think about the way girls probably threw themselves at him without him even needing to try.

And now this?

It was too much. Yunho’s head was spinning, and his chest felt tight.

Eventually, he forced himself to move, stumbling toward the bathroom like his legs were made of lead. Once inside, he shut the door with a soft click and pressed his back against it, exhaling shakily.

What the hell was that?

Yunho closed his eyes, but the sounds kept replaying in his head—the moans, the groans, the undeniable proof of what was happening just a few feet away. His face burned hotter than ever, and he buried it in his hands, trying to will away the thoughts creeping into his mind.

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t care.

Right?

Yunho splashed cold water on his face and tried to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that his roommate, his intimidating and annoyingly handsome roommate, was currently in his room hooking up with another guy.

And for some reason, that fact shook Yunho to his core.

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aestheticaltcow · 3 days ago

Text

Yes I Would

Part 2 of the Worm series!

Technically, I'm not done with finals, and this is probably gonna be a four-part series because it got hella long...

Previous Part

The Bear Masterlist

“Carmen, it’s 2 AM. Why did I need to come out here?” Richie yawned as he sat on a stool by the bartop next to Carmy. He didn’t respond to the question. Richie shot him a look, “Kid. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s pregnant.” Carmy softly responded as he brought his beer bottle to his lips.

Richie sat up, dumbfounded by his response. “You knocked her up? Didn’t realize your balls dropped already.”

Richie’s attempt at lightening the situation made Carmy roll his eyes. “Fuck off, Richard.”

“Nah, cousin. That’s great. She’s a good girl. I figured you’d settle down with her at one point… maybe sooner than anyone expected, but that’s great.” Richie rambled, “One time- you were like two, so I doubt you remember, Mike and I were throwing beer caps at you-”

“She doesn’t want it, Richie,” Carmy said, cutting Richie off mid-sentence. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke.

“Please say something, Carmy…” your voice was shaky as you spoke. Carmy clicked his tongue as he pushed his hands through his hair. He nervously laughed as he looked up at the ceiling. “Carmy?”

“Okay… okay. Is this a discussion?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re tellin’ me you’re pregnant and that you don’t want it in the same fuckin’ sentence, Y/N. Why are you even fuckin’ tellin’ me if you don’t fuckin’ want it?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded by his reaction. “Carmy, we’ve only been together for eight months-”

“So?” Carmy scoffed, “I love you. Would it be the end of the world if you had my kid?”

“Carmen,” you scolded, “Are you seriously equating our love for each other to my willingness to have a baby with you?!”

“Babies aren’t always planned but-”

“Carmen! It’s my fuckin’ body!” you yelled, cutting him off. “Just- just get out.”

“So yeah… not sure what to do…” Carmy mumbled as he fiddled with his napkin.

Richie sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered when Tiff told him she was pregnant with Eva, granted it was planned, and the two had been married for a decade. Richie didn’t know what to say to Carmy. He just sat beside Carmy and remembered when he was five or six. Mikey was in charge of watching him while he played in the yard that afternoon.

Richie and Mikey were sitting on the porch steps talking about something that had happened at school a few days prior when Carmy came running up to the pair with a rock in his hands. “L-l-look Mikey! I-I fou-und a rock!” Carmy excitedly stuttered. His eyes gleamed with excitement. Richie watched as Mikey went to ruffle Carmy’s hair and took the rock from his hands, “That’s a cool one, Carmy. Find another, yeah?” Mikey encouraged. Carmy nodded and ran off to a different part of the yard.

Richie leaned an elbow against the bar, supporting his head in his palm. He looked at Carmy. He remembered all the times he and Mikey had been able to make him feel better. He remembered when they had to take Carmy to the emergency room when he was eight and broke his arm when he fell from a tree. He remembered when he and Mikey would go to his wrestling meets. He remembered shoving him in the closet and refusing to let him out until he admitted to having a crush on some girl in his class when he was in high school. He remembered watching him sheepishly walk across the stage when he graduated high school and watched Mikey sneak cash into his backpack when they dropped him off at the airport when Carmy left for culinary school. Carmy was more than his best friend's little brother. He helped raise that kid.

“Sometimes, you have to fight for what you want,” Richie said, finally breaking his silence. Carmy looked up at him, “You can’t make her have the baby, but you can’t walk away without a fight, Carm.”

Carmy scoffed at the advice, “Richie- She kicked me out of her place when I tried talking to her about it. She doesn’t want to keep the baby, and I don’t think I can support-”

“Shut the fuck up, Carmen.” Richie cut him off. He shifted in his seat to face Carmy. “You were man enough to have sex with her. You need to be man enough to stand beside her and support whatever decision she makes. Abortion, no abortion, having the baby and giving it up for adoption, keeping the baby and staying with you, whatever that girl chooses; you give it your 100%.”

Carmy grimaced at the advice Richie had given him, “Sober up. Go see your girl.”

Carmy didn’t take Richie’s advice. That night, he went back to his place and kicked his shoes off after locking the door behind himself. He stumbled as he headed into his bedroom. As he collapsed onto his bed, he was engulfed by the lingering smell of your perfume. Carmy rolled his body into the middle of his bed and stared at the ceiling; you should be here.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke up in a cold sweat. He abruptly sat up and looked to his left to see your absence. Carmy closed his eyes and leaned back against his headboard. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before leaning over to grab his phone from his side table.

No new text messages. No missed calls.

You always texted him ‘good morning’ when you weren’t together. Carmy huffed and dropped his phone before gazing back at the ceiling.

You woke up that morning and resisted the urge to contact Carmy. It felt wrong, but with how telling him you were pregnant had ended, some distance felt like a good idea. After getting out of bed that morning, you walked into the bathroom to shower before going to the office.

As you waited for the water to heat up, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. If you hadn’t done that blood test, you wouldn’t know you were pregnant. You put a hand on your stomach and felt it twist. Maybe Carmy had a point. Babies aren’t always- “Snap the fuck out of it, Y/N.” you scolded yourself as you tried to shake the thought of keeping it. “You are not, I repeat, NOT, ready to be a fuckin’ mother.” you thought aloud. You stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over your face, “Just forget about it today…” you mumbled as you quickly scrubbed yourself down with body wash.

You couldn’t focus at work that day. Everything made you think about Carmy. As you reached to grab your phone from your bag, there was a knock on your office door. “Come in,” you called, dropping your phone back into your bag.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I have good news for you.” Your manager smiled as he entered your office. You shot him a suspicious look. “I swear it’s good news,” he said defensively, putting his hands up. We’re opening another new office in New York, and YOU are going to be in charge of it—if you want to, of course. Imagine Houston, but permanent. You’ll get a raise and housing allowance and set the whole office up however you want- your ship.”

You were speechless, “Ryan, I-I-”

“Y/N. Take the job. Do you want to be someone in the writing and editing world? New York is where you do it. Please, just think about it. I need an answer by the end of the month.”

“You talk to her?” Richie asked without looking up from his notebook. Carmy huffed in response as he pulled his chef jacket from his locker.

“No.”

“Why not?” Richie snapped, putting his notebook on the locker area bench.

Carmy sighed, “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Carmen. If you’re man enough-”

“Richie, I don’t want to talk about this here.” Carmy cut him off and put his phone in his locker before walking to the kitchen. Richie rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his pocket. If Carmy wouldn’t do anything about this, he knew some people who would.

“CARMEN ANTHONY BERZATTO!” a blood-curdling scream came through the kitchen in the middle of dinner service. Carmy dropped his knife mid-cut and turned to see Donna standing just inside the kitchen, the swinging doors that separated the dining room from the kitchen still swinging. “I fuckin’ raised you better than this young man!” she screamed as she stomped closer to where Carmy had been cooking. Waiters and line cooks separated like the red sea as she grabbed Carmy’s bicep and pulled him through the kitchen toward the back entrance.

“Ma- what the fuck?!” Carmy finally yelled back when the two were in the alley.

“Why did I find out you got your little girlfriend pregnant from Heather Jerimovich?” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently. Carmy sucked in a breath as Donna glared at him. “Well?!”

“Uh-uh-” Carmy started as he pushed up the sleeves of his chef coat; he was lost for words. He never expressly told Richie to keep all of this to himself, but the implication was there.

“Carmen. Anthony. Berzatto. Answer me. Now.” Donna snarled as her glare intensified. Carmy breathed out and pushed his hands through his hair as he thought about explaining this situation to the mother, who hadn’t really cared about him for most of his life.

“She doesn’t know if she wants to keep it…” Carmy answered softly, unable to look at her as he explained, “Ma- she wants to abort my kid. Okay?” Carmy’s voice trembled as he pushed his hands into his pockets and stared at his kitchen clogs.

“What?” Donna’s voice softened as she watched Carmy shrink as he spoke. Donna knew she hadn’t been the most attentive mother but knew when her son needed her. “Com’er,” she spoke, opening her arms and beckoning Carmy for a hug. Carmy sighed and stepped into the hug, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She hugged him tightly and began rubbing gentle circles on his back. “It’s gonna be okay..”

You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. It was almost two, and you weren’t expecting anyone—it had to be Carmy. “You can do this, Y/N… you can do this.” You hyped yourself up as you got out of bed, wrapping your comforter around you as you walked through your apartment to the front door.

“Hey..” you said softly when you opened the door just a sliver.

“Can I come in?” Carmy asked. You felt yourself melt when your eyes met his. He was tired, and you saw the undertones of hurt and admiration as he stared back at you. You nodded and opened the door more, moving to the side to allow Carmy into your apartment.

“I know- I know I can’t tell you want to-to do with your body.” Carmy started as soon as you’d closed the door. “Pl-please. Can we talk about the baby?” his voice cracked as he spoke. You adjusted your comforter on your shoulders as you nudged your head toward the couch.

The two of you sat on the couch awkwardly. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Carmy… I couldn’t do it…” you tenderly spoke as you wrapped your comforter around yourself tighter. “I uh- they had to confirm I was pregnant and uh- they did, they did a sonogram… the heartbeat sounded like a horse running. I never thought I’d be one of those women, you know? I was sure I would go through with it, but when I heard the heartbeat… it was so beautiful.” you confessed. “You were saying how sometimes babies aren’t planned-”

Carmy’s sob was what cut you off midsentance. You looked up at him, and he silently reached for you. You moved closer and allowed him to pull you into his lap. “We're gonna have a baby,” Carmy murmured as he rested his forehead against yours. You grinned and pushed your fingers into Carmy’s hair.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” you confirmed, “We’re gonna have a baby…”

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tinkaaabutt · 19 hours ago

Text

The night we met.! (White Ferrari series)

The rain has stopped by the time you’re back in the car, though the world outside is still damp and shrouded in gray. The air feels lighter, like something heavy has been lifted. Vi glances at you as she starts the engine, her hands steady now, though you notice her stealing quick looks at your face.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You nod, leaning your head against the window. “Better.”

It’s quiet for a few miles, but this time, it’s not the sharp, suffocating kind of silence. It feels tentative, open, like the words you left unsaid before might finally find their way out.

“Hey,” Vi says suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You turn your head, catching her profile—sharp, but softer now, the tension in her jaw finally gone.

“I was thinking…” She hesitates, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “There’s this diner a little ways up the road. You’re probably starving, right? I mean, I know I am.”

It’s such a clumsy attempt to smooth over the rough edges of what just happened that you almost laugh. Almost.

“You’re stalling,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

Her lips twitch, caught, but she doesn’t deny it. “Yeah, well, maybe I just want a minute to sit across from you without screwing it up.”

That catches you off guard. She glances at you, and when she sees the look on your face, she smirks faintly.

“Relax,” she says, her tone lighter now. “I’m not gonna get all sappy. Just… let me take you to breakfast.”

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. “Okay, Vi. Breakfast it is.”

The diner isn’t much—a little run-down spot on the edge of town, the kind of place with sticky booths and a menu that hasn’t changed in twenty years. But it’s warm inside, the air smelling like coffee and syrup, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel like you can breathe.

Vi slides into the booth across from you, shrugging off her damp jacket. Her hair is a mess from the rain, strands sticking up in wild directions, and you can’t help but smile.

“What?” she asks, catching your expression.

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re just… a little less intimidating when you look like a wet dog.”

Her eyes narrow, but there’s no real bite behind it. “Careful. I might take that coffee I was about to order and dump it on you instead.”

“Sure,” you say, smirking. “As long as you’re the one paying for it.”

Vi laughs—a real, genuine laugh that makes your chest ache in the best way. It’s been too long since you’ve heard it.

When the waitress comes by, Vi orders pancakes, eggs, and coffee, while you settle for toast and tea. The small talk is easy, lighter than it’s been in weeks, and you almost forget about the storm you’ve just weathered together.

Almost.

But then, as the food arrives and the conversation lulls, Vi leans forward, resting her forearms on the table.

“Hey,” she says, her voice quieter now. “About earlier… I know I’ve got a lot to prove, but I meant what I said. I’m gonna try. I’m gonna meet you halfway.”

You stare at her, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her tone.

“I know,” you say softly. “I can see that.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, holding each other’s gaze. It feels fragile, but it’s something, and that’s enough for now.

When she finally leans back, a small smile tugs at her lips. “Okay, good. Now eat your toast before I steal it.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too. The road ahead still feels uncertain, but right now, sitting across from her in this tiny diner, you think maybe—just maybe—you can figure it out together.

#league of lesbians #vi x reader #arcane #lesbianism #vi arcane

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almayver · 21 hours ago

Text

GMM2025 Lineup Game / Tier List

Rules: write your thoughts on all the GMMTV series pilots released (or just the ones you plan to watch) and tag people whose thoughts you wanna know about!

@jojotichakorn @wangxianinventedromance and @valentinaonthemoon tagged me in basically different variations of this, so I'm gonna smush them all together. Thanks for tagging me 😊 I love to be given the chance to ramble.

Prefacing this with a reminder that I am the personification of CinemaWins so I find things to like in everything, and that I was born to yap, so this will be long :)

I'm going to do it in the order of the trailers and put the tier list at the bottom. I'm adding a twist to mine and tracking the most important thing to me, Will I cry? (mostly just so I can look back and see if my guess was correct)

Dare you to death: I LOVE a good murder mystery. Yes. Give it to me. Snarky partners solving a crime was THE dynamic i was raised on and I still love it. It's going to be so entertaining trying to pick up clues and stuff while seeing these two bicker and fall in love. Don't think ill cry on this one, but serial killers, brothers, possibility of whump? There's a chance.

Head 2 Head: FUCK YES. Starting with the fact that I adore SeaKeen with all my heart, this one has me so invested!! Their bickering-flirting? ON POINT. When Sea says the line of “I've been saving my lips for you for ages” while flipping him off?? Yeah, that's my shit. But add to that the whole magic plot of seeing that they are in love and together years in the future, but then he dies!!! In his arms!!!! Yes. Yes. Just yes. “I will do anything to prevent that from happening…except not loving you”?? Yep. They made this show for me specifically, the rest of you can stay only if you are nice. The side couple also has me 👀. Basically, I loved every single second of it, and I'm ready for it. Oh, I will absolutely cry. No doubts about this one. These boys had me weeping with their soft rom-com, adding looming visions of death to it? yes, I'm ready to cry.

Burnout Syndrome: I'm intrigued by this one! Looks very messy and full of complex feelings all around, with some very very interesting characters. I don't actually have more to say about it except !!!, and it's on the watch list for sure! Hmm from what I get, I'm thinking is going to be more in the stressful, thoughtful side than in the emotional one for me, so maybe teary eyes but not full-blown crying.

I Love “A Lot Of” You: I've only seen one thing in which this topic didn't feel wildly offensive, so. Hmm. Even without that whole can of worms, I'm not fully interested in it? It seems cute and fun I guess, and the title is very sweet but eeeh. Not in the watch list for now, unless it gets some strong endorsements once it starts airing.

Whale Store xoxo: Oh this looks lovely! So so so warm and sweet. Having a character in just full-blown crisis and feeling lost, is always the best way to get into my heart. Add to that a sweet girl, full of joy, trying to help?! And the You've got mail vibes with the whole small business being threatened by the family of the love interest, plus feeling a duty to the store because of a parent without knowing if its what you truly want? Say less babe, I'm there, I'm seated. The side couple story also has me really intrigued. Oh yeah, tears will be very much present. Not full on wailing, but rom coms do make me cry, I see some tears due to both the angst and the character finding herself.

Only Friends-Dream On: Making the entire first half of the trailer one shot that manages to explain all the dynamics is enough for me to put it in the watch list no questions asked. I haven't watched Only Friends and from the bits I know and have seen I know I wouldn't enjoy it purely for weird personal reasons. This however? Oh yeah bestie sign me up, ill have popcorn ready, let the messiness begin. Also, the cast is insane and as someone who was absolutely taken by Ohm and Leng week after week, I'm so excited. Hmm, I'm going for yes. At least one of these assholes is going to be broken in a way that speaks to me and I will cry about it, I see it in my future. (Side note, please tell me I'm not the only one that laughed at the characters being called Jack and Dean)

That Summer: I CHEERED. Troublemaker sent to the beach to find some discipline finds a kind, amnesiac prince is something that i didn't know I needed so hard but fuck i do. It's going to be so fucking charming, and it has this very quiet emotional vibe to it that I'm going to eat up weekly, yes sir. I have no thoughts except loud cheering, I'm just excited for it. I was going to say I hope it comes in summer like that means anything to me. pft. Umm, yeah probs some tears, nothing too big, but I can see some emotional moments hitting hard specially considering the two people acting here. *side eyes that We Are scene that I still can't fucking rewatch because it did enough damage once*

My Romance Scammer: Marriage scam!!!!! I could cry of joy. This is the kind of shit I love sorry. It's so messy and at its core very silly, and I'm just going to have such a good time watching. It's going to be fun! I also feel like some of the backstories of these characters are going to be interesting and emotional, I'm excited for that. I was going to say I won't cry, but I always cry with fictional weddings and I'm guessing some sort of “real” wedding is going to happen at the end that will break me, so maybe.

Melody of Secrets: I'm fucking thrilled. As a horror fan, I don't know what I did to get this gift but ill fucking take it, thank you. This was SO WEIRD!!! Isn't that great!! What the fuck was happening? Is it ghosts, is it magic, is it a curse, is it trauma? I don't know, and the character doesn't know either, and ooof the journey we will go in while trying to figure it out! My only request for this show is that I want to say “What the fuck??” every episode. That's all. Whether I cry or not depends on where they are going with it so, no clue. Possibly.

Love you teacher: I had such a strong negative reaction to this, that it kind of went back around, and now it's in my watch list? It was a journey. So, fun fact about me, one of the fanfiction tropes that I adore the most and I will eat up every single time it pops up even though it's not that common is amnesia in an established couple (I'm sure no one was kind of scared I was going to say something else). I just love the idea of a couple having to kind of fall in love again, with the angst of one of them not knowing anything while the other has all the memories and feelings. It's specially interesting if the person with amnesia has a very different life in the present to what they expected/think they should have, or in a enemies to lovers dynamic? it fucks. So I was really really excited. And then he was 7 years old, and I got so shocked I stopped processing the trailer. But now I'm intrigued. I want to see if this show is going to surprise me, I'm going to be there seated for the first couple of episodes at least because there is something there that just, its intriguing. I think there is a chance this one will be special. I mean if I hate it I can just stop watching right? No big deal. The other thing is that Dome gave me a show so fucking special to me that I have to give the dude a chance. He already surprised me. I trust him enough to know that this will be fun at the very least. And also, if I do stick with it, tears 1000% guaranteed. The emotional beats of this will hit, absolutely, and motherfucker over there knows how to hit you with emotions with the simplest stuff.

MU-TE-LUV: Yeah so I'm probs only watching the SeaKeen and OhmLeng parts. Those are actually so compelling to me and I love watching them act, so I will be having fun with those stories. The rest fully depends on my mood and what other people are saying when it airs. Also, the Dew one that is just Amarres: la serie, kind of seems interesting. I kind of doubt this one will pull my heartstrings much but hey I'm willing to be surprised!

Cat for Cash: I have my blanket and my warm drink ready, I will be seating there just cooing at everything and feeling all the emotions. This is going to be a chill watch, it's going to be fun, and I love it for it. The familial shit is going to break me and sell me for parts, so that's going to be fun. And yes, absolutely going to cry, no-brainer.

Girl Rules: We all cheered. So what is going to happen is that I'm going to liveblog this, absolutely, and all the liveblogs are just going to be me being in love with Namtan, and I need everyone to be cool with that. In all seriousness, leaving behind my gigantic crush on her, this is going to be so gooood. Messy!!!! Hot!! FUN!!!!! The dynamics between all the characters are already delicious, and i can't wait for this one, it's going to be great. Grabbing pop corn and something to fan myself with. The NamtanFilm relationship has some real potential to pull some tears from me.

Boys in love: I love fluffy shit, sue me. We are going to sit here, and giggle and kick our feet and have a good ass time while doing it. The Chokun and Aston relationship drew me in so hard, I'm going to live there, but everything was just so sweet and delightful!! Its a fun time. Honestly, yeah, I can see a couple of tears. Not sad tears but more like, overwhelmed with softness kind of tears.

My Magic Prophecy: Once again, angsty visions of the future are always compelling to me, so I'm here for this. It's kind of in the same level as Burnout where I'm not shaking chihuahua levels of excitement but I'm interested! The relationship seems fun and touching, the science vs. magic thing could be interesting. If I get invested enough, yeah crying for sure.

A Dog and A Plane: I'm sure no one who has spent more than a minute in my blog knows this, but i fucking love these two so much. Shocker, I know. But seriously, they have something that makes me 20000% invested whenever they are together on screen and i didnt want to hope for a new show but i was secretly wishing for it and the universe decided to throw me a bone the size of Jupiter. And to add to it, they are bickering, they are horny, New is a fancy flight attendant and Tay Tawan is a paramedic with tattoos that wears a lot of tank tops. They both think the other one is better than them in some way. The plot is just the kind of rom com i eat up. And I know, I KNOW, I'm going to cry. I cry every time these two are involved. They will have one vulnerable moment and i will be in the corner cheeering with tears in my eyes. They will have the conflcit and the same thing will happen. They will have the happy ending and i will be weeping. I'm so fucking happy. Just one thing. I need them to fuck in that plane. I dont care where, I dont care how, but it has to happen. I have that small wish. Oh and MarcPoon!!!! Their bits seem so so good too.

Me and Thee: I made the joke that I read this Phumpeem au before, because actually yeah kind of, but also because these are the exact same vibes that drew me to Phum. The characters are super different and so cool, but oh lonely rich boy!!!!!!! I'm gonna have a new one for my list. And this one is so weird! and a dork! and loves soap operas so he is speaking my language. I love him already. The plot is also just for me. Teach me how to hit on someone?? And he uses it all on him!! yes yesssss. I cant wait to see more of them. I cant wait to see them each fall in love in such different ways and the conflict has the opportunity to be so so so my thing. In terms of crying, he is a sad lonely boy, i dont have to say more. I'm ready to imprint on him and feel very emotional.

WU: This was less of a plot and more of a "here, we heard you, they'll keep working together, dont kill us". I haven watched their show yet because of a silly reson, but i had been planning on binging it before the last episode next week, so im excited!! The brief glimpse we got compels me, i love me some red string of fate.

Memoir of Rati: I said I could watch them read the dictionary (and i fucking meant it) and instead they give me an intense period show??? I could cry. Look, one could say Great Sapol single handedly got me back into live bloging, i have a debt with the guy, add to that the fact that him and Inn became two of my favorite actors ever in just a couple of episodes? Yeah I'm here for this. They have an insane chemistry that is such a joy to watch, and i dont mind period shows, they arent my favorite but I find them charming if done right and they often teach me new things. These two are about to eat the shit out of these roles and i will be clapping while suffering. Also the AouBoom story is so interesting too!!! No notes. I'm going to cry like a baby multiple times. I still cry with their fake break up. This is going to kill me. Can't wait.

Ticket To Heaven: First let me list some fun facts about me. I was raised catholic in a very catholic family in one of the most catholic countries in the world. I still live in a house where my room is the only one that doesnt have some form of religious imagery. Bare a pop opera and Jesus christ superstar are two of my favorite musicals of all time. I ran away from religion before my confirmation but after my first communion, and every time i think about it i discover some new complicated feeling about it and a fun trauma it left behind. I am right now wearing a Look Khunnoo shirt.

They made this show for me and its going to break me. I'm already making playlists for it. I keep listening to Heaven while staring at the wall. This is just, gods, this is everything to me. The vibes of it are just so so so delicious. The aesthetic? The quotes? I am so going to relate more with Gemini's character, and thats going to be a fun painful little trip. And of course. These boys. I adore them. I'm ready to be killed by them acting the shit out of every single frame. I am going to cry in ways that will be dangerous to my health. I can't wait. There is no way that the ending isn't going to fuck me up, whether is super tragic, a time skip, a hopeful ending. Its going to be a Thing. Fucking Rosa de Guadalupe got me with its gay episode. and its. La rosa de guadalupe. This? Will murder me. I will listen to the ost and cry instantly like i do with Bare.

Basically im excited :)

And the tier list!!

I kind of did it in the scale of how much is it going to make me feel like a dog waiting for its owner, sadly pawing at the door, wanting to be let in.

I think everyone I would tag on this has already done it or has already been tagged so if you see this and you have thoughts that you want to share, you are tagged. This is legally binding. I want to hear your thoughts

If you read all that you can reclaim a cookie before leaving

#Im so pumped this is better than christmas #gmmtv 2025

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