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#but they also DON'T acknowledge it. he's familiar and there's some real feelings there and there's hope that this time they'll work out

sunaluv · 1 year

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I need more “come get your man” posts👏 it doesn’t matter when but they give me life🗣️🗣️

ask and you shall receive

part 1 part 2

pairings: bokuto, baji, sakusa

BOKUTO

“me and kotaro would look good, no?”

the table consisting of you, your best friend, the girl and her best friend turned to look at the girl who hasn’t felt the need to hide her infatuation with your boyfriend.

“what are you talking about?” your best friend.

“i don’t know,” she twirled her locks around her finger, looking upwards in thought. “we’ve known each other nearly all our lives, i feel like it’s inevitable.”

again, silence.

“is that not your boyfriend talking to bokuto right now?”

the girl sighed. “i don’t care about him, after all i just settled. the one i really want is right there.”

you didn’t need to follow her finger to know where it was pointed. the sound of your boyfriends boisterous laughter reached your ears, such an opposing atmosphere to the one you were sat in right now.

‘at least one of us is enjoying ourselves’ you thought.

“he doesn’t think of you that way.”

the tension was suffocating as all three heads turned towards your stern scowl.

her eyes widened. “damn i kinda forgot you were his…” she waved her hand, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the man she wants has already been claimed. “when you’re done with him, send him my way yeah,”

whether the smirk on her face was joking or serious, you didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care.

before you could retort, a loud voice called over to you. “baby, come here a sec!”

like a flipped switch, the loving smile oh so familiar to your kotaro made an appearance on your face as you left the table, itching to get as far away from the girl as possible.

she nervously watched as you engaged in conversation with your boyfriend and ‘what she settled for’. hands fiddled with themselves under the table as she watched you whisper something to the two, causing bokutos smile to drop, and her boyfriends eyes to harden in disbelief.

three pairs of eyes stared her down, one angry, one disappointed and one challenging.

there was no point in defending herself, she had already known you relayed her message on to her soon to be ex boyfriend, but what hurt more than being caught was the disappointed look that pierced her heart, the look coming straight from the man she loved.

BAJI

"hey girlie can i give you some advice real quick?"

you were dreading this. a small get-together with your boyfriend and his friends suddenly turned into a side eye fest when baji's self-proclaimed 'bestie' showed up. ever since the stern look over she gave you when she greeted you, you could tell she was bursting at the seams to give some 'girl to girl' advice on your outfit choice.

now that baji reluctantly left your side to hover in the kitchen, she made her move.

"i love your sense of fashion and stuff, you know how you just don't care what anyone thinks of your outfit, buttttttt i just wanted to let you know thank kei isn't into that stuff, he's more into the innocent barbie kinda look, d'ya get what I'm saying?"

you gave a once over at her outfit: oversized, pink sunglasses sat atop her dead straight blonde hair, she wore a bralette miniskirt two-piece with an oversized hoodie covering her arms.

not to stereotype, but she's describing herself. maybe not so much the innocence, but the barbie look described her for sure.

"he's also into blondes," she snapped her gum. " since we've been friends forever, i can tell you now all the girls he dated, or showed interest in were blonde. not to tell you to not be yourself or whatever..."

"maybe that's why he went for something different this time," you shrugged. "the ones before me didn't work out."

she played off her surprise with a laugh. "that would make sense yeah..." she tucked her hair behind her ear awkwardly, leaving awkward silence between you.

"why are you guys sitting in silence." keisuke made his presence known, holding two solo cups.

as he walked past, the girl leaned forward ready to thank your boyfriend for the drink, but he walked past her without looking back, making her shrink in embarrassment.

"for you, my lady." he bowed dramatically.

"you're so silly kei," you chuckled, pulling him into you. "hey do you like blondes?"

he almost got whiplash from your sudden change of topic. "i like what i like."

"and what do you like,"

"i like you... i guess"

"what do you mean 'you guess'" you jokingly mocked, hitting him lightly after setting your drink down.

"nothing, nothing" he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. "why ask anyways?"

you subtly glanced at the girl who watched the whole interaction in silence, shooting her a smug smirk.

"no reason."

SAKUSA

"your boyfriends so good looking," a voice so quiet, you were sure you weren't meant to hear it.

you turned your head towards the manager's daughter who had the audacity.

she jolted at your hostility "did I say that out loud? whoops, I meant the guy next to him."

the practice match had now ended, and sakusa began to make his way towards you as the team now had their break.

"sakusa!" she waved him over, thrusting a bottle towards him. "good work out there, have a drink!"

"no thanks."

he walked passed her and straight towards you, taking the bottle you had brought with you from your shared home.

"would you like a towel?"

damn she was persistent

"no thanks" his voice remained the same. "i'd rather use things i can trust, from my own home."

she watched enviously as he took the towel from your hands, wiping the sweat from his chiselled face. not a word was spoken between you, but the warm and loving smiles and the faint blush covering his cheeks said enough.

"you know i can do so much more for you than she can," she started. "does it not make more sense to be with me? you literally play for my team."

though her words were sharp and precise, they didn't hit the intended target. your face held the same expression, save for the daring look you shot her, challenging her to continue.

before you could speak up to her, kiyoomi spoke.

"you know its better to date someone you love, right?" his mocking words took the same format she used. "and i don't play for you, i play for your father, and I'm sure he would love to hear about his bothersome daughter whose uncomfortable advances are messing with my play." he basically threatened.

if heartbreak had one expression, she would be wearing it. whether it was the way he declared he didn't love her or the way he used her trump card against her, her expression was firm, then slack, then firm again.

her open mouth twitched, debating on whether or not to try to win him back. 'to win his heart or to leave him be, to win his heart or to leave him be?'

'leave him be' she came to the conclusion.

smart girl.

though the tension lingered in the air, she did not speak for the remainder of the day, to you or kiyoomi at least.

"didn't know you had such a mouth on you, kiyo," you smirked, liking this new side of your boyfriend.

his big palm pressed to your face, pushing you away before you could see the way the red on his cheeks deepened.

8K notes · View notes

wheeboo · 7 months

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psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 2 months

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ROUND 3 MATCH 32

Mammon propaganda:

“He was done dirty in the first round, I hope he wins this time because he deserves it

First of all, he hates you at the start but then he starts to like you but he exclaimed his hate too much at the start so he can't admit it

Everyone knows that he likes MC, even his little D (who are demons familiars) thinks that they should date

He is a classic tsundere but doesn't actually hurt you like other tsunderes but he is so bad at hiding his feelings that everyone is just ignores it

He is the avatar of greed, meaning he is clingy which may be a turn away for some people but he cares for you so so much

He has never turned into his demon form to hurt you (Asmo hasn't but he has tried to seduce you with his power)

Don't get me started on his story cards, he literally is so cute

He wants to be a mentor to Luke, like Lucifer was to him, he is only mean to Luke because he wants Luke to learn about how life isn't all sunshine and rainbows

He is also so hot, he is a bisexual panic

He is bullied by his brothers but he cares for them so so much despite their bullying

I am so in love with him and have written so many fics about him

Anyway, I'm going to stop here because otherwise I'll be here all day”

“First friend, first pact, practically the MC's first everything, he is a major Tsundere, he holds my heart hostage, I just want to smooch him, he and MC share a room, he is such a cute little bab, he does bully Luke (a child) but it's revealed that he just wants to show Luke that the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows and want help him figure things out

He is the cutest little guy, he cares for his brother

His sin is greed so he does steal things from people but since lesson 1 he hasn't stolen anything from MC

He wrote a song to propose

Sure he is clingy but in a good way

He is so cute

He adopted a child, which he had to leave in the care of witches and willingly let's the witches extort him

There is so much that I can say about him but 1. Spoilers and 2. I don't think you want to read that much”

“OKAY SO. OH MY GOD.

First person we're able to properly romance in game. AND FOR GOOD REASON. He's had MCs back from the beginning, hes the one real one in the game. He's always trying to protect us and its so nice. Puppy boy. He's so me as well??? Like he's such a doting boyfriend it's literally so cute. When MC had to go back up to Earth, he kept breaking the rotating schedule in order to call us more. He always gets MC gifts (avatar of greed love language being gift giving im gonna collapse) and he just drops the most romantic lines out of nowhere??? Like sir are you trying to give me a heart attack. He's the secretly traumatized comic relief. He has ADHD. He's canonically queer (MC doesnt have a set gender). He even likes Head pats. Vote Mammon.”

“HE'S SO PATHETIC AND CRINGEFAIL. I LOVE HIM”

Jaehee propaganda:

“only female love interest in MM, not included in the first round for SOME REASON, you literally go off and live your coffee shop au with her at the end of her route.”

“My lesbian wife. Open a bakery with her after convincing her that she doesn't have to give up her happiness to make money. She can pursue her passions. Also her backstory is so sad and I just wanna hug and kiss her and throw hands at her "family" for making her feel like she does. Also the Valentine's dlc, you get locked in the back of the bakery with her and... Yeah that's my wife. I love her dearly. Also can we just acknowledge that she's like the only path that involves almost none of the dramatic death defying nonsense. You're just gay and in love and it's beautiful”

#mammon #mammon obey me #obey me #obey me shall we date #jaehee kang #mystic messenger #mysme #Round 3 #MDDC 2

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kararisa · 4 months

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darling, starling

— 16. wine-stained lips — ✦ (wc: 0.9k)

Dandelion wine is a delicacy in the heart of Mondstadt, renowned as not only the best-seller of the region’s finest Dawn Winery but also as Venti’s favorite wine. The golden-colored drink has a flavor similar to mead, adorned with a subtle undertone of honeyed sweetness. While you’ve had the pleasure of sharing a glass or two with friends, you’ve never downed a full bottle.

Though that notion certainly changed today.

It’s a scene you're familiar with: dimmed lights, faint music, you and Scaramouche on the couch, sipping on glass after glass of wine. You were talking to him about... something. Was it the wine or the concert? It was something stupid, you know that much, because Scaramouche simply sneered at your comment and drank more of his wine.

The first night Scaramouche graced Inazuma with his presence after years away was spent here in this very living room. You and your friends had downed glass after glass, catching up after an eventful dinner.

Now, nine months have passed since he came back. It’s just you and him here. All alone.

Not that it’s a bad thing, at least in your book. The conversation isn’t boring, being able to flow much more smoothly with the help of the wine. And the skinship isn’t half-bad either. His hand has been resting on your knee for a bit, and your side has been pressed close to his for however long the two of you have been seated on this sofa.

It’s just the two of you here. There isn’t a need to keep up appearances.

"So, Scaramouche," you make your hand into a fist like you're holding a microphone. "How does it feel to be dating the Zenith?"

"No comment."

You pout, "The crowd's not gonna like that; you're not giving them anything to latch on to."

"Then I say that it's none of their business."

After a moment, you shrug, "Better than nothing I guess."

The two of you were bound to be hounded by reporters eventually, so you've taken to shooting him question after question in the guise of a journalist looking for some juicy gossip.

His answers could use some work, you could say that much.

"Our sources say you were at Windborne's concert tonight. What can you say about their music?" you hold out your invisible mic.

"It was alright."

You're getting annoyed at his clipped responses. "Don't lie, you enjoyed their concert," you swirl your glass before taking a sip. "I saw you smiling when I was on stage."

"Again, I was only there because of you," he retorts. "You perform really well when you're in front of a crowd. Like you belong there."

You likely would have blushed even more if the wine hadn't run its course, "Stop trying to butter me up. You're already dating me."

“We’re not even dating. And I’m only telling the truth — you were born for the stage,” he murmurs the next part so softly that you almost miss it. ”I like seeing you perform.”

You choose not to acknowledge the fact that you heard that last sentence, opting instead to drain the remnants of your glass. Its nectarine sweetness gives you comfort, a fleeting refuge from the tension in the air. With your glass now empty, you slowly swiveled to face Scaramouche, your heart racing, and your senses on high alert.

He was already looking right at you, seemingly closer than he was just a moment ago. HIs usually neat hair was now disheveled, a subtle blush graced his cheeks, and gods were his eyes always this pretty?

You lean closer to him, purely to take a closer look at his pretty face and most definitely not for any other reasons. The red eyeliner he usually wears is smudged at the wing, his hand that was once on your knee is now resting on your arm. You're still holding your empty wine glass, spinning it in your fingers while Scaramouche inches impossibly closer. Is the warmth spreading across your body coming from where he's touching you or have you had just one glass too many?

Honesty, you can't bring yourself to care with the way he looks at you. Maybe that's the real source of the heat.

“It’s just you and me here,” you drag your fingertips across his collarbone, a teasing trail that lingers on his shoulder. “No need to get so close.”

“Give it a rest,” he mumbles, voice slurring slightly. “Like you said, it’s just us. So shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in closer, ever closer, and presses his wine-stained lips onto yours. Time still as your hand, which was once wrapped around your wine glass, lets it slip from your fingers. You hear a soft thud as it finds its place on your carpet, but your attention is somewhere else entirely.

His hands, soft and warm, find their way to your waist and pull you closer. The taste of wine and the scent of his cologne threaten to intoxicate you further.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathless sigh escapes you, and you feel one of his hands moving to the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You grip his shoulder tighter in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapid beating of your own heart echoes in your ears.

Scaramouche breaks away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. And you see nothing but want and need and desire in his eyes. He kisses you over and over again, each one more desperate than the last.

It’s just the two of you here — you let the world fall away as you start to run your fingers through his hair, a soft groan escaping him as you do this. Nothing else could matter in this moment.

And you’d kiss him all night if he’d let you.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: nothing more than a mistake made in the heat of the moment. that's all it is, and that's how it should be. but perhaps there's more than meets the eye

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq @nnasv

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bakugoushotwife · 6 months

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kinktober day twenty-seven: car sex

>>> no one will read these anyway based off of the reception for nobara, but i wanted to give the ladies some love this time around <3

>>> starring: maki zen'in x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: jealousy, homophobia w the zen'ins, making my own cannon, oral and fingering, car sex, semi-exhibitionism? i don't think so but just in case >>> wc: 1.8k >>> event masterlist:

formal events were the bane of her existence. she hated all the ritualistic steps of looking presentable for a clan celebration, of all things. maki has never been celebrated amongst her clan and she knows they won’t start anytime soon—so why did she have to show up and celebrate them? even worse, why did she have to drag her girlfriend to such an event? she knows half the elders will spend their time whispering about either her supposed powerlessness or her lesbianism, and the other half would be thinking about it all night long. she hated having to subject you to such nonsense, but her mother insisted–and she knew she’d never hear the end of it from her if she didn’t just suck it up and go.

so here the two of you are, shoved into the zen’in family banquet hall in a tight fit. maki was absolutely uncomfortable, forced to mingle with people she can’t stand while trying to keep a possessive hold on you. despite the controversial relationship, she wouldn’t let it be lost on anyone. you weren’t here as a plus one or just a friend, you were here as maki’s partner and she wasn’t shy about it. they hate her already, she couldn’t give less of a fuck. her anger will make her the perfect protector too, she won’t allow them to say anything offbeat to you or their reckoning may come early.

she also hated formal wear. it was impractical and stuffy, and she didn’t like being painted up to the nines, either. at least you looked amazing. you might be enough to make her rethink all her earlier opinions. seeing you tucked into a gorgeous kimono was definitely a lifeline to get her through the night—naobito’s birthday celebrations could perhaps pass harmlessly by with nothing more than the memories of how good you look. the silk highlights your body for days, tight around your chest and flowing down your legs. whereas maki feels completely out of place with rouge and lipstick on he skin, somehow it makes you look even more elegant and graceful. you’re flawless, evidence that maki is indeed good enough to deserve happiness. she keeps your hand in hers for the better part of the evening, fake smiling to some clan members while she keeps her scowl for others, you couldn’t quite find a rhyme or reason to her reactions. it isn’t until she’s pulled away by her sister that you’re able to understand.

of course you were familiar with the atrocities of the zen’in, and it made you more than just a little uncomfortable to be surrounded by them, but with maki by your side, you knew that no harm would possibly come to you. but with her gone, well. now you’re left wide open.

they don’t waste any time, a wall of zen’in has formed around you with various men bidding for your attention by offering you drinks and compliments, swearing that a zen’in man could give you a much better time than any woman—but especially one as weak and powerless as maki. their sentiment makes you snarl, but you don’t know how far maki is—meaning you don’t know how crude you can be with all these disgustingly vile creatures.

“weak? naobito’s birthday or no—we can test that theory.” her sharp voice cuts through the cacophony of others. the men are quieted instantly, and you feel yourself smirk. they start rattling off excuses as to why there should be no fighting here tonight—but you hear the real reason: they’re afraid.

maki has always been far more powerful than they deign to acknowledge. she’s a talented fighter, and you knew most of these old fuckers would be dead to rights if she really wanted to cause a scene. her presence is scary enough, brows set with a menacing look in her eye. she stares above their heads, making eye contact with you.

“come. i think it’s time we left, dear.” she extends her hand for you to take, holding the stare of the disgusting old men that came to hit on her girlfriend the moment she stepped away. you skip forward to take her hand, almost giddy at her demeanor as she squeezes your palm in hers. you knew that she was pissed. she was mad when she woke up this morning and remembered this stupid fucking party was today, but now she’s irate. everything she thought would happen, did, and she didn’t feel like subjecting you to any more ogling eyes. she starts to drag you both towards the door, hoping that the hour and a half she had managed to occupy the same space as her family would please her mother enough. not that she quite cared anyway, hearing your little giggles of excitement told her that you knew exactly how she would remedy her bad mood.

maki has a track record of jealousy, and you knew this time was no exception. this time may be the worst of them all, your girlfriend’s grip on your hand tightening as the driver brings the car around. her mind was racing with the harassments from the crowd, different cousins and uncles offering to show her girlfriend a good time after the party. tch, she didn’t have to wait. she would have you now, the windows of the car are tinted anyway. she opens the backseat of the spacious suv, jutting her chin out to the backseat.

your feel your face heat up as you obey her, crawling into the back on your hands and knees. maki turns to give the chauffeur a tip, patting his knowing shoulder. she doesn’t much care if people know what she’s about to do to you in this car. in fact, she hopes rumors spread about it. the windows being tinted was all she cared about—no one would get to see her pretty little girlfriend’s faces of pleasure but her. she steps into the car after you and pulls the door closed behind her. she’s thankful for the air conditioning and radio humming lowly in the background, your noses pressed together for a brief moment as she adjusts your seat, pushing you back and ensuring she has enough space in the floorboard.

you giggle a little, parting your thighs to give her room to sit between. she slinks between them easily, resting her hands on your knees as she peers over her lenses. you lick your lips in anticipation, seeing that anger in her eyes.

“worked up, babe?” you tease just a little, resting your hand on her head. she raises a brow at you, quietly warning you to watch your attitude. you grin a little, knowing you could push her to her limits after the night that you’ve had—but you’d be the one to reap the consequences. so you lean back against the seat a bit, easing your cunt closer. she looks down at your middle at the movement, but she nods.

“yeah. i’m a bit worked up.” she groans, bunching your silken skirt up by your thighs. her mouth salivates the closer she leans to the apex of your thighs. she catches your scent, grinning at the arousal already leaking down your legs. “they’re all just dying for a chance at you, hm?”

you roll your eyes with a satisfied little grin, shaking your head at her. you pull your skirt up some more for her, but you know not to worry about anything further or you’ll further irritate your already ticked off and overzealous girlfriend. “just too scared of you to come around.” you decide to stroke her ego instead.

she scoffs a little, amusement sparkling in the vast darkness of her emerald eyes. her fingers stroke over the center of your panties, and she hums approvingly at the dampness she can feel beneath. her lips tilt into a smirk, “and you like that?”

“i love that.” you purr, scratching her scalp a little bit. she smiles softly and pushes the flimsy fabric keeping your cunt from her to the side. she gives you a breathy chuckle, watching the strings of your arousal stick to your panties as she peels them away, she’s enamored.

“and i love that sloppy pussy, pretty girl.” she whispers, letting her fingers spread your lips apart. you take your lip in between your teeth in anticipation. she lets her slender thumb drag figure eights along your clit, face focused on your hardening tits and shifting face. you’ve always been so sensitive, it’s one of maki’s favorite things about you—how you jerk into her hand as she’s barely touched you, little moans coming from your pursed lips as the sounds of tires squealing outside overtake the music in the car. maki grins—you’re holding up the line, leaving the other zen’in’s no choice but to pull around maki’s signature suv. she chuckles a bit as she leans in, attaching her pink lips to yours, letting her fingers work their magic over your bundle.

your body drowns in warmth, looking down at your sexy and strong girlfriend giving you head never got old. she always knew how to get you going, possessively shoving you in the back of her car was on the list. you grip at her hair as the pressure from her fingers intensifies, tongue slipping past your lips and straight into the hole—and she moans at the taste of you. your head rolls against the rest behind you, hands weaved into green locks in an effort to grind yourself down on her tongue inside you without moving her fingers. one of her hands pushes your thigh away, keeping you from breaking yet another pair of her glasses.

she works in perfect time, knowing exactly how to send you over the edge without much work at all. she knows no man could tend to you so easily—making you cum like it was chewing gum or breathing. that’s why only she gets to wear the remnants on her face. you buck into her mouth, whines going high pitched. she taps your thigh, giving you express permission to cum on her face.

you whimper, the affection in her eyes was enough to send you toppling over the edge. your hips shake, the dam breaking in your gut—your release covers your girlfriend’s tongue as she curls it inside, gathering all the taste of you that she could with a few animalistic moans as she sucks you clean.

she pants a little as she pulls away from your cunt, tucking your panties back over the mess with a little smile of arrogance. “did that make you feel better, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling your skirt back down as she leans up toward your face. you bend down to meet her, she was still on her knees after all.

you chuckle, giving her a soft kiss. “i meant to ask you that.”

#kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kyleewritesjjk #maki x reader #maki thirst #maki zen'in #maki smut #maki zenin #maki zen'in x reader

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slut4msby · 4 months

Text

like you love me. oikawa tooru x reader

+ tags & warnings; slight angst, slight fluff

+ a/n; okok so i have had real bad writers block but heres this its alright but kinda rushed also i have been a little obsessed with the seijoh4 atm so expect more seijoh4 writings :3

"Tooru, do you really have to go?" you question, your gaze fixed on the floor. The thought of looking at your now ex-boyfriend pains you deeply. His presence stings, though you understand it wasn't his intention to hurt you. Both of you acknowledge that parting ways is for the best; he's pursuing his dream across the world, and you want nothing more than to be happy for him. Yet, the struggle to find that happiness within yourself is challenging.

"Y/N, please look at me, darling," Tooru pleads, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "You know how much this hurts me too."

You do know. There's no denying how Oikawa feels right now, the difficulty he is facing. Maybe even more than you. You're aware that he will carry the weight of your heartbreak on his shoulders, blaming himself, even though you understand it's not his fault. He's simply pursuing the path that brings him joy, the one you've always encouraged him to take. You recognize Oikawa's potential for greatness and don't want to stop him.

"Stop looking at me like that," you retort bitterly, avoiding eye contact.

"Like what?" Oikawa inquires.

"Like you love me, Tooru."

The truth stings.

"But I do love you, N/N-chan."

"I don't want you to love me, Tooru. I want you to forget about me entirely. I don't want to be a lingering memory for you. All I'll do is hold you back. Tooru, I know you can achieve so much without me," you declare, your words accompanied by falling tears.

"Y/N," Tooru murmurs, his voice filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

“Bye Tooru.”

That was the last time you had spoken or even seen Tooru in almost ten years. You couldn’t deny you often thought of him. He was the best lover you have ever had. When you heard the news that Oikawa had started playing for the Argentina team, you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at all the things he could achieve without you, like you never happened. That's what you thought at least. However, it was the complete opposite. Tooru could only ever think of you. No matter how many women he dated or slept with he could only ever think of you.

He missed you.

He missed you like crazy, but he knew he couldn’t reach out. In the last five minutes he saw you, you practically told him you want nothing to do with him. Little did he realise that you eagerly waited for any form of contact from him. As time passed, regret overcame you for those words spoken to Tooru that night, playing like a broken record on your mind.

As you walked down the stadium halls, trailing behind Atsumu who was rambling about some nonsense story in preparation for the Japan vs. Argentina match. You walk past the Argentinian team’s locker room. You pause for a moment, as you catch yourself staring blankly at the door. The intensity of your gaze prompted Atsumu to halt mid-story, looking at you with concern.

“You good, N/N?” he asked

You nod, “yeah, let’s just keep going, Atsumu.”

You and Atsumu keep walking down the stadium halls. However, as you both move forward, you can’t shake off the lingering thoughts of the Argentinian team’s locker room and the memories associated with Tooru.

As you continue navigating the maze of corridors, you spot a familiar figure walking towards you in conversation with another large muscular man. Your heart skips a beat when you realise it’s Tooru Oikawa. Time seems to freeze as you lock eyes with him.

Atsumu notices your change in attitude and follows your guide. His eyes widened in surprise, staring at the renowned setter. “Well if it ain’t Oikawa…” Atsumu mutters under his breath.

Oikawa doesn’t even acknowledge Atsumu as he takes a step forward towards you. “Y/N,” he says, his voice tainted with a mixture of surprise and longing.

You swallow hard, caught between the rush of emotions and the memories flooding back. “Tooru,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper. The air becomes charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. “We were just getting on our way right, Atsumu?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu responded giving

“Y/N-san, please just give me a minute.” Oikawa pleads.

“Sorry Tooru, we have somewhere to be…” He could tell you wanted to stay, to see him. He could see it in your face, he heard it in the way you spoke. You were still as beautiful as he remembered. He was still as in love with you as his 18 year old self was. Most people his age were having kids, getting married, and settling down. However, Oikawa couldn’t. He was still in love with his high school sweetheart, the woman who didn’t love him back, or so he thought.

The match progresses with both teams fiercely competing on the court. Your attention is divided between the game and the unresolved emotions stirred up by Oikawa's unexpected presence. As you sit on the bench, feverishly writing in your notebook just like you used to during his high school matches, memories flood back, and your heart feels a mix of nostalgia and anxiety.

Meanwhile, Oikawa can't help but steal glances at you from the court. The years have passed, but the feelings are still alive. Next to you sits his best friend, Hajime Iwaizumi, who senses the tension in the air and knows he needs to address the unresolved issues between you and Oikawa.

As the match reaches its climax, and the crowd roars with excitement, Hajime approaches you discreetly. "Hey, Y/N," he says, turning to you.

"What's up?" you ask, looking up from your notebook.

"Can you meet me outside the physio room after the match?" he requests. "I just need help with something."

"Of course, Hajime," you respond, offering a reassuring smile.

The match concludes, leaving the stadium buzzing with energy. You make your way to the agreed-upon meeting spot outside the physio room. As you approach, you don’t find Hajime standing there, rather Oikawa Tooru.

“Oh sorry, I was looking for Iwaizumi-san…” You mutter. Your gaze falling to the floor similar to the last conversation the two of you held.

“Oh uhm, me too…” Oikawa says nervously, an arm awkwardly scratching his neck.

“You played well, Oikawa-san.” You plainly state, attempting to ease the discomfort.

"Oikawa-san?" he questions, a hint of hurt in his expression. The formality stings, a stark contrast to the intimacy you once shared.

"I just thought..." you begin, hesitating for a moment. "Things have changed, Tooru. We both have."

“I still love you Y/N-” Tooru blurts out. Immediately turning red. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I-I didn’t mean to say that.”

Silence.

“I know you said you didn’t want me to love you, and you wanted me to forget and you and tha-”

Tooru’s speech was cut off by your lips meeting his. The unexpected moment left him confused, but within seconds, the initial confusion turned into a reciprocated kiss. The kiss was filled with a range of emotions. The kiss was like an unspoken language that conveyed the complexity of your shared history and the unresolved feelings lingering between you.

“I love you too, Tooru. And I regret every one of those words that came out of my mouth. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, Tooru. no matter who I tried to replace you with, no one was you, Tooru.”

“Stop looking at me like that.” He giggled.

“Like what, I’m being sincere here!”

“Like you love me, darling~.” He teased as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Touché, Tooru. Touché.”

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #lea's stories :3 #slut4msby #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa tōru

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fiveredlights · 4 days

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I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️

do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!

listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]

The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.

“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”

“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.

“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.

“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.

“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.

Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.

That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]

"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”

Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.

“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”

or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One

summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]

“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]

Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”

(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]

“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”

“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”

“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”

“Talk about how you have a daughter.”

Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”

OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.

#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that #me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world #f1 fic rec #maxiel

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bonesandthebees · 2 months

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I wish more people would realize that analyzing past stuff to try and find signs of abuse is not a good idea, especially right now... I've seen way too much of that on twitter. And I really like the way you explained it, thank you

If I had to guess, I'd say people are trying to take the image of Wilbur they have in their head and reconcile it with what we now know. And since that's a pretty intense change, they try to find old stuff he did and retcon it as abusive, to help with the transition

I also know that some fans have had grievances about him for a long time, but didn't feel safe airing it out because of his fanbase, and they're now getting all of that out. Some of it is very based (him being rude to Baghera) and some... less. I've seen people saying his lyrics made it clear he was an abuser (not all writing is autobiographical and self-deprecation is a thing) or that him being friend with minors was a red flag (minors can and should have adults friends, it's not inherently bad)

at the end of the day, we're coping like we can, I guess

I think this is a very good way of looking at it. I get the struggle with trying to reconcile the wilbur soot we saw vs the one we've now learned about. there's a very distinct difference here between the persona he put on and the real guy. and that can be very difficult for people to process and I understand it. but at the same time, it's leading people to miss the point that we don't know what was part of his internet persona and what wasn't. because we never really knew will gold.

I also think there's something to be said for the fact that a lot of these people aren't familiar with shelby's content or don't know much about her, and often in fandom we see fans being far less likely to empathize with women, especially a woman they don't know much about. I'm not trying to say these people are being misogynistic on purpose, but I really don't think we can ignore the subconscious misogyny going on with fans who are taking a story about a woman being abused, and choosing to focus on their favorite white boy and his interactions with wilbur instead. that's definitely a factor here too.

and of course there's also just the fact that people struggle to comprehend that abusers can act like nice, normal people. because abusers are normal people. they see all these past interactions on streams and videos of wilbur with his friends, they look at his music or things he mentioned about his friendships, and try to find flaws in it so they can prove he was evil the whole time instead of acknowledging that he's just a guy. a guy who had the capacity to be nice and funny and care about his friends while also being a manipulative, hurtful, and dangerous person to be around at the same time. those things can coexist, and pretending they can't only makes it easier for abusers to get away with their abuse.

#ask #anon #wilbur situation

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sundeathh · 3 months

Note

aizawa with a younger sister in his class and they dont get along well? maybe some angst of some sort?? Thank youuu <333

Here you go, I hope you enjoy it. I added some angst but only after finishing it I realized I also made it oddly comforting.

Family Ties

Head-canon | Masterlist

Pairing: Brother!Aizawa × Sister!Reader

Fandom: BNHA | MHA | Words: 950

The air in Class 1-A was tense as Shota Aizawa, known for his stern demeanor, navigated through the students, making sure to keep a watchful eye on each of them. His younger sister, though, happened to be in the same class. And unfortunately, your relationship had always been strained.

One day, during a particularly challenging training session, Aizawa's patience wore thin. He singled you out for your lack of focus and commitment.

"You there," he barked, his eyes narrowing in on you. "This is not a game. Your lack of attention could cost lives in a real battle. Shape up or you won't last a day in the hero world."

You bit back a retort, the frustration evident in your eyes. Aizawa's scolding wasn't just about your performance; it was a reflection of the strained dynamic between you two. The weight of his expectations hung heavy in the air.

After the class ended, Aizawa approached you, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, though you only took in the frustrated part. "You're not taking this seriously." He started. "You have potential, but you need to focus. Heroics is not a path for the careless."

You resisted the urge to snap back, his words hanging in the air as a silent agreement of the unresolved issues between you and your brother. Shota sighed, running a hand over his face. He wasn't satisfied with your silence, as if he wanted some kind of acknowledgement from you.

Then, when all of your retorts to his scolding gave space to silence, Aizawa grew frustrated enough to finally adress the root issue.

During classes, Aizawa glanced your way several times, catching glimpses of the familiar scowl that mirrored his own. You avoided eye contact, burying yourself in your schoolwork every time. The tension between you and your brother had become a constant undercurrent.

A few days later, Aizawa lingered after class, hoping for a chance to address the underlying issues that had become a rule in your lives.

As the last student filed out, he sighed and spoke, facing you. "We need to talk."

You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for another lecture so soon. "What now? You gonna tell me how to stand properly or criticize my skills again?"

Shota's expression remained stoic. "This isn't about you. It's about us. We're family, and I don't want our relationship to be this way forever."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Well, maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your work, we could actually have a normal conversation."

Aizawa's gaze softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I know I'm not the best brother. I'm not good at expressing myself either. But I care about you. I just... I have a responsibility to these students, to be the best hero and teacher I can be."

You glanced away, a mix of frustration and hurt weighing on your heart. "So, that's it? Your hero duties are more important than your own family?"

He raised an eyebrow before proceeding, his voice quieter. "No, it's not that simple. But I need you to understand the choices I've made. I want you to be proud of your big brother."

You scoffed again, but this time, there was a glimmer of understanding in your eyes, though you didn't adress it with words. "Proud? How can I be proud when I feel like I barely know you?"

Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Maybe we can work on that. It's not going to change overnight, but I want to try."

Over the following weeks, Aizawa made a conscious effort to spend more time with you outside of class. Whether it was grabbing a quick meal or attending a local hero event together, the rigid walls between you began to crack.

Eventually, he even proposed training together, a mix of combat and quirk exercises. Despite the initial resistance, you found a common ground in your shared abilities. Slowly, you began to see a different side of your brother – not just the hero, but the person.

Attempting to normalize family interactions, Aizawa would invite you over for dinner sometimes. The awkwardness was always palpable, but the efforts didn't go unnoticed. It was a small step towards bridging the gap between your worlds.

As the months passed, Aizawa and you shared more moments together. Some were strained, others surprisingly pleasant.

One day, during a quiet moment, you looked at him and said, finally acknowledging his efforts. "You're doing your best, aren't you?" And for the first time, a genuine smile graced your face in front of him when he nodded.

As time went on, the sibling relationship between the both of you evolved. There were still disagreements, but the unspoken understanding grew stronger each day. Aizawa focused on learning how to balance his hero duties with family, and you slowly learned to appreciate the complexities of his world just as well.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests & more details!

#aizawa shota x reader #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #mha aizawa #mr aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x y/n #mha #bnha x reader #bnha #aizawa angst

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landondeeznuts · 5 months

Text

𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

Pairing: Cole Brookstone x Gender Neutral MC

Rating: PG

Summary: Gender Neutral Reader who so happens to be Kai and Nya's (I guess Lloyd's too) Cousin, meets Cole while shopping. Cole is also a little shy in this story

(Posted over on Ao3 first)

Y/n was happily flipping through vinyl records in the store, drawn into the soft rock section. Amid the nostalgic tunes, a tall guy with tousled black hair caught their eye. His headphones created a zone, shutting out the world as he searched for the perfect track. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the record they were after was right in front of this stranger.

Summoning some courage, they tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I help you?" he asked kindly. Y/n felt a slight flush. "I don't suppose I can squeeze in there to get that," they gestured to the record they had their eye on. "Oh, sorry, yeah, of course," he replied, making space for them. As Y/n reached for the record, they couldn't help but notice Cole's handsome face, somewhat obscured by a plain black hoodie and inconspicuous sweats. Yet, the attire couldn't hide the undoubtedly muscular arms beneath. A warm familiarity lingered in the air, tugging at the edges of Y/n's consciousness.

Tilting their head, Y/n couldn't resist asking, "Do I know you? You look oddly familiar." Cole, caught off guard, responded with a nervous chuckle, "Me? Uh, I don't think so." His gaze momentarily wandered, glancing over Y/n's shoulder before refocusing. Suddenly, it clicked for Y/n—the amber eyes, the thick curly black hair, the strong jawline—all reminiscent of the elemental master of earth, Cole, that they had vividly heard about.

"Is your name Cole?" Y/n asked, excitement and realization evident in their voice. He froze, eyes widening with surprise and curiosity. "Uh... you... how do you know me?" Y/n chuckled, feeling a connection through Kai's shared stories. "Kai," they revealed with a grin. "Kai?" Cole's astonishment was palpable. "Yeah, he's my cousin."

"Kai mentioned me?" Cole inquired, still processing the unexpected encounter. "He's mentioned all of you," Y/n reassured him with a smile. His response was a sincere "Wow... that's... wow," as he shifted, still processing the revelation. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Cole." “Y/n,” they replied, returning the warmth with a smile. “That’s a really nice name,” Cole complimented, a genuine smile playing on his lips. Y/n found themselves basking in the easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken understanding growing between them.

Gesturing towards the record, Cole asked, “You wanted that one, right?” Y/n nodded, their shared interest bridging the gap between strangers. “Here, I’ll just—” Before Y/n could respond, Cole gracefully moved behind them, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through Y/n. He leaned over their shoulder to retrieve the record, and Y/n couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness. “Kai failed to mention you're a gentleman,” Y/n teased, playfully acknowledging the subtle gesture.

“Oh, you… uh…” Cole stammered, suddenly self-aware. Straightening up, he handed the record to Y/n with a charming smile. “And cute,” Y/n added, causing Cole's blush to intensify. “Uh…. heh…” Y/n hid a chuckle behind their hand. “Real cute.” Cole's gaze met theirs, a genuine smile forming on his face. “I… um… you’re cute, too…” His admission was met with a reciprocal blush from Y/n, the air thickening with unspoken chemistry.

“Why thank you,” Y/n beamed, the exchange creating a delightful rapport. “Of course,” Cole replied, a subtle grin playing on his lips. Emboldened by the shared moment, Y/n couldn't resist a playful tease. “Hey… uh… um…” Cole looked at the price tag and then back at them. “Are you busy this evening?” Y/n, contemplating the answer with a playful demeanor, looked up. “Schedules free.” Cole's surprise was evident. “Oh? Well… um… would you like to… I dunno… do something together?”

The air crackled with anticipation as Y/n hummed, leaning in a bit. "Like?" they inquired, inviting Cole to share his thoughts. Cole, momentarily flustered, cleared his throat and looked down. "Well, there's a coffee shop that's open late near here, and I thought we could get coffee there." Y/n's smile widened. "Coffee sounds nice." Cole visibly relaxed. "Great! Uh, should we meet there at, I don't know, seven? Or do you have other plans?" After a moment, he spoke again. "It might be a little late... how about we make it six?"

"Six sounds great," Y/n sighed contentedly, their heart fluttering with excitement. "Okay, great. Um... the coffee shop's called 'The Rusty Cup,' it's on North Street, right next to that park. See you then?" Cole's smile held a hint of anticipation. "See you then," Y/n reciprocated with a smile. He nodded once. "Okay, see you then... y/n." The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth that lingered, leaving Y/n's heart racing in the most delightful and fluffy way.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed, and Y/n found themselves outside 'The Rusty Cup.' The soft glow of the coffee shop's warm lights spilled onto the sidewalk, creating an inviting ambiance. A cool evening breeze played with the edges of Y/n's hair as they waited, their heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

Just as they were about to enter, the door swung open, and there stood Cole, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Hey," he greeted warmly, his amber eyes sparkling. Y/n returned the smile, feeling an inexplicable sense of ease in his presence. "Hi, Cole. Ready for that coffee?" they asked with a playful glint in their eye.

"Absolutely," he replied, holding the door open for them. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them as they stepped inside. Finding a cozy corner, they settled into a pair of overstuffed chairs, the soft hum of conversation and the gentle whirr of the espresso machine creating a comforting backdrop.

As they sipped their coffee and exchanged stories, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the effortless connection they were building. Cole, usually reserved, gradually opened up about his passion for music, sharing anecdotes about his adventures as the elemental master of earth. Y/n, in turn, revealed their own interests and dreams, creating a mosaic of shared experiences.

Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, and before they knew it, the coffee shop's closing hour approached. Reluctantly, they gathered their things, the night having woven an invisible thread between them. Standing outside, Y/n felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected encounter and the easy camaraderie that had blossomed.

"Well, this was unexpectedly wonderful," Cole remarked, a soft smile playing on his lips. Y/n nodded in agreement, a warmth settling in their chest. "Definitely. We should do it again sometime," they suggested, the prospect of future meetings already brightening their thoughts.

Cole's eyes crinkled with a smile. "I'd like that.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, Y/n found themselves happily lost in a tune when a bright idea crossed their mind. Why not share the exciting news with Kai, who unintentionally played a role in their unexpected encounter with Cole? Pulling out their phone, Y/n began crafting a message to Kai.

Y/n: Hey Kai! Guess who I bumped into at the record store yesterday? Your partner in crime, Cole! 😊

Kai's response was swift, embodying his usual quick-witted charm.

Kai: Oh, Cole! Stirring up trouble, I hope.

Y/n chuckled at the familiar banter, fully aware of Kai's penchant for teasing.

Y/n: Surprisingly, no trouble at all. Just helping me grab a record. He's a total gentleman.

Kai: A gentleman, huh? That's a new one. Did he pull out a chair for you at the coffee shop?

Y/n couldn't help but grin, picturing Kai's mischievous expression.

Y/n: You got it! How did you guess?

Kai: Lucky hunch. So, spill the beans. Why are you updating me? Should I be on high alert?

Y/n: No need to worry, just wanted to let you know your buddy's got some impressive manners. We got coffee, chatted about music, you know, the usual.

Kai: Coffee? Music? Sounds like a date. Should I be shopping for a wedding gift?

Y/n burst into laughter, imagining Kai preparing for a non-existent wedding.

Y/n: Hold your horses, matchmaker. It was just coffee. But hey, Cole did mention he's into music. Think he's hiding a secret playlist?

Kai: Oh, more than a playlist. Thinks he's the DJ of our ninja team. But don't be fooled; he's got a soft spot for cheesy love songs.

Y/n grinned, picturing Cole secretly vibing to love ballads. Kai's protective humor didn't go unnoticed.

Y/n: DJ Cole and his love for cheesy tunes noted. Thanks for the heads up, Kai. 😄

Kai: Anytime, cuz. Keep me posted on your coffee escapades. And remember, I've got my eye on that dunderhead.

Y/n chuckled, appreciating Kai's playful concern.

Y/n: Will do, Kai. You've got a front-row seat to this budding friendship.

As Y/n tucked their phone away, a warm feeling settled in their chest. Kai's teasing, sprinkled with a protective touch, hinted at a genuine care for family. The fluffy banter served as a comforting reminder of the support surrounding this newfound connection with Cole.

#ninjago cole #cole brookstone #cole x reader #lego ninjago #posted on ao3 #x reader #y/n

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photogirl894 · 1 year

Note

AHHH these are all so good!! Can I be super gluttonous and get another one??

Putting someone behind them to protect them with CROSSHAIR!? OMG or Fives... no Crosshair.PLEASE?

Absolutely, you may send in more than one request! The more, the merrier!

Haha well you ended with Crosshair, so that's who I'm going with, darlin 😜

"Fake Boyfriend"

7. Putting someone behind them to protect them

Pairing: Crosshair x fem reader

***

After coming back from another tiring mission, you were hanging out with your squad and friends, the Bad Batch, at 79's getting some drinks. The bar was pretty crowded this time and it was starting to get hot inside from everyone there. The boys didn't seem to mind as much. You were sitting next to Crosshair, who had his arm draped over the back of the booth behind you. He might as well have had his arm around you with how close his hand was to your shoulder. The two of you had a habit of flirting with each other all the time, but usually in a joking way that wasn't serious. At least, that's what you told yourself. Because unfortunately for you, you had a feeling it was all just fun to Crosshair, even though it was more real for you. At this point, you just figured there was no point in admitting your feelings and potentially making things awkward with him, especially when it already took a bit of work to break through his shell anyway. You didn't want to undo all the work you'd already done in getting him to open up to you.

You stood up and announced to the boys that you were going to step outside for some air for a second and they acknowledged your decision.

Crosshair reached up and tapped your arm, saying, "Don't be gone too long."

"Why? Will you miss me?" you asked back.

He said nothing, but simply gave you a knowing look that said, "Come on, really?" like the answer to the question was obvious...but it wasn't really.

When you stepped outside, you walked just a little ways down the platform 79's was on to around the corner of the building, your hands in your pockets. The noise of Coruscant air traffic buzzed in your ears along with the chatter of Clones and other people also out on the platform.

A few minutes later, a speeder with a human male atop it pulled up and docked next to you, his eyes trained on you as he parked his speeder almost without even looking. "Well, hey there, beautiful," he spoke to you.

With a deadpan look, you replied, "Can I help you?"

He smirked looked you over in a way that made you want to squirm and you didn't get that way very often. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in this part of town?"

"I fail to see how that's your business," you commented. As he started getting closer, your hand slowly made its way around behind you to where your blaster was holstered just in case.

"You shouldn't be out here alone. I could uh...give you some company," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

"She isn't alone," you heard another familiar voice say before you could respond. Just then, Crosshair appeared next to you and he protectively moved you behind him as he stepped forward to face the man in front of you.

The man's suggestive smirk disappeared and he gave Crosshair an unamused look. "Who are you?" he questioned.

Without even hesitating, Crosshair answered, "I'm her boyfriend."

Your body locked up at his response. Did he just say...?

Then he kept going, "She's my girl and I suggest you get back on your speeder and move along...while you still have the ability to drive."

The stranger just scoffed and stated with a dismissive wave, "Whatever." With a huff, he turned on his heel, climbed back on his speeder and sped off.

Once he was gone, Crosshair turned around to face you. "Are you all right?"

You nodded. "Yeah, he didn't do anything. He was just a creep. Thanks for that."

He simply nodded.

"Didn't expect you to pull the 'fake boyfriend' card, though," you told him.

"I thought it's what would get rid of him the fastest," he explained.

For some reason, you had dared to hope that maybe there had been more behind his reasoning, but you should've expected this.

Though, you clearly didn't hide the disappointment in your face well enough because Crosshair then pointed out, "You don't seem content with that answer."

You weren't sure if you could cover up how you really felt at this point, so you admitted, unable to look at him right away, "Well...I don't know, I just kind of hoped that...maybe it could actually be a real thing."

When you looked up at him, his eyes had narrowed slightly. "You...you want that?" he asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

You gave a shy nod and a shrug. "I mean...we flirt all the time and I keep thinking sometimes that maybe you would want something like that, too, but I'm sure it's all been just fun and nothing serious. Which I understand if it is."

"It's not like that."

"Wait, what?"

"I only flirt with you...and I do it because I want to. I'm not good with words and I hoped that maybe I could get my interest across that way."

You were stunned for a moment before saying, "So all this time...you were interested in me?"

He stepped closer to you and took a surprisingly gentle hold of your chin, tilting your head up and touching his lips softly to yours for but a brief moment.

A small sigh left your lips when he pulled back and you replied, "I'll take that as a 'yes', then?"

He snickered. "Was that not enough for you to believe me?"

You smirked back at him. "I might need a little extra convincing."

That was how you found yourself pushed up against the outside wall of 79's and making out passionately with Crosshair...until the rest of the boys eventually came out looking for you both.

"Hey! I thought you said you were coming out to get some air?" Wrecker questioned as you both jumped apart.

"She wanted some of Crosshair's air, it seems," Hunter teased.

The two of you blushed bright red, but the rest of the squad seemed pretty happy about the two of you. You walked back to the Marauder hand in hand with Crosshair...now your boyfriend and you, his girlfriend.

Photogirl894's Physical Affection Prompts

Photogirl894 1,000 followers fics

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch crosshair #bad batch prompts #crosshair x reader #photogirl894 1000 followers

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braxiatel · 1 year

Note

Saying “they hold up each others man boobs and kiss with tongue” about two content creators on YOUTUBE DOT COM is so fucking deranged. Say that about fictional people PLEASE

I normally don't take fic prompts but I'll make an exception for you anon <3

---

As the door to his treehouse starter home opened with a click, Scar - a magical elf and not a youtube content creator - looked up from the elven cookies he had been baking.

“Hello? Is anybody home?”

It was Mumbo Jumbo, a vampire who was also not some human guy. He was, however, Scar’s boyfriend.

“In here,” Scar called, wiping his hands on the front of his apron, starting at the top where it covered his scitties. A moment later warm arms settled around his waist and a familiar form pressed against his back. Mumbo's impressive jumbos settled against his shoulder blades.

"Hello there," he said, laying his hands over Mumbo's.

"You're tense," Mumbo commented.

"Back pain," Scar sighed.

"Let me help?" Mumbo requested. His mumboobies were pushed against Scar's back as he began to move.

"I wouldn't mind that," Scar agreed. Mumbo's hands came up to cup his scitaments. With the significant weight taken off his upper back the dull ache in Scar's spine began to fade and he sighed happily.

"How are you?" Scar asked his lover.

"Erh," Mumbo shrugged. "I'm actually dealing with a bit of a backache myself, if I'm being honest, babe."

"Mumbo, you should have told me," Scar tutted. "What sort of boyfriend would I be if I didn't try to help. Let me go a moment?"

Mumbo complied, and as Scar turned around in his arms his snickerdoodles brushed against Mumbo's mumblebees.

Scar brought up his hands to hold Mumbo's monosaccharides, feeling the heavy Monster Energy™s in his palms. Mumbo likewise picked Scar's seismographs up again, probably admiring their muscly nature from the reverent look he was giving Scar.

"That's much better," Mumbo said. He gave Scar's left sarcophagus a gentle caress. "I love you."

"I love you too," Scar told him, unconsciously leaning closer. As he did his Scandinavian Airlines Systems pressed suggestively against Mumbo's Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sundays.

"Scar?" Mumbo asked.

"Yes, Mumbo?" Scar asked back, licking his lips.

"Are we about to kiss?"

They were.

(They did).

(With tongue).

Now, anon, if you actually want to have a conversation about this complicated topic, acknowledging the nuances, I would be happy to explain to you why I personally do not consider this to be real people shipping. But from your tone I am guessing that is not the case, so as long as you keep the circus music playing I'm going to keep on clowning.

#Anonymous #also: baby's first anon hate :o #hermitshipping on my blog that says I post hermitshipping on the hermitshipping website. who would have thunk #this is not going in the writing tag #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #i am only maintagging for my non mcyt followers #sorry about that #redscape #mumscar #scarbo #discourse #hermitshipping discourse #suggestive #the void collection

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edgar-allan-possum · 7 days

Note

"The original submission had NONE of this info and only says that the character was from China. It didn't even have his name and this guy keeps complaining that people didn't read his mind and know exactly what he was talking about. Come off it, anon."

One this ask got answered very late and should have been up a long time ago (infact i thought it already had been but i looked and couldnt find it so whatever"

Two i shouldnt have had to explain every little detail to justify myself. My ask was about the problem of people assuming everyone is christian and that was inspired by seeing someone talk about xiao practicing religion the christian way, and i used him as an example because thats what inspired the ask.

And It was vague on purpose. genshin characters get talked about often here especially xiao or zhongli. I decided that the details of who the characters were was not necessary. And it shouldn't be. Why is christianity the fucking default for you people. Why do i need to write a fucking essay in order to convince you guys that he not christian? Why would i need to do that with any character especially if they are of a different race, born with a different culture, or in a different place than where Christianity originated? The character being from a region BASED ON china should have been enough. It takes no thought to understand a fictional place based solely on a real place would also include its religions and not ones from outside.

Thats my problem. Its that everyone thinks christianity is the default and no one has ever bothered to learn about other religions on a basic level.

If a character like that is christian then they are but there are so many characters like xiao that are so far from anything christian related that it's just ignorant to assume they would be. That any religious practices they would do are automatically christian.

What pissed me off was them saying "he would be religious" and then listing off christian religious practices. Like he isnt already religious and has his own practices. They just automatically assume that what he does (or is for that matter) isnt connected to any religion and that he would by default be christian.

You can't tell me shit like that isn't ignorant or downright offensive and racist.

What made me mad was people like you trying to defend that shit and making up excuses for why a character might be christian instead of just acknowledging that yeah a lot of people just assume this shit and its a problem and understanding not everyone is christian by default.

First, I want to include your original submission.

Your point, as far as I can see based on the wording here, is that a character from a country based on China cannot possibly be Christian. China actually has a Christian population that is facing genocide from their communist government. They've been there since the Tang Dynasty in the seventh century.

Second, "people like you". I don't play Genshin, don't know this character, and had no idea what your submission was about beyond claiming Chinese people can't be Christian. I understand that you are annoyed about people not doing research into Chinese religious practices for this character, but the majority of people will fall back on what they are familiar with when coming up with headcanons. It's not racist, they just aren't familiar with other cultures' practices and may not know where to start researching them.

Third, you may not feel that you had to provide details in the original submission, but you can't then also be angry that people didn't know what you were talking about. I believe you have mentioned that Xiao is some sort of religious leader? If your submission had been about people headcanoning a character who is a devout member of a specific religion as a different one (which seems to be the actual issue), then I probably would have agreed with you somewhat, even if I still don't see it as worth getting so worked up about.

Lastly, Christianity was not founded in America. It is a Mediterranean religion.

#long post #longpost #asks

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darkcircles4lyfe · 1 year

Text

labor of love

Thinking back on the books and shows that have captivated me most over the years, I’ve noticed that a significant part of my enjoyment comes through glimpses of the creator themselves. The human, fallible, subjective, personal, and unique perspective that bleeds through. I'm forever trying to see things from the other way around instead of as the audience. As I become more familiar with a person’s work, I almost imagine myself as the close friend who can see bits and pieces of their loved one in everything the write.

When I deal with fandoms or read and listen to media criticism, I inevitably get slapped in the face by the absence of this habit in other people. Maybe it’s because of concepts like “entertainment” and “consumption” making art into a product we spend our money on, and therefore we feel it owes us something. Maybe it’s the trend of pretending arbitrary differences in taste are actually somehow a basis for objective criticism. Regardless, even though I see plenty of reminders all over fandom spaces encouraging people to just enjoy things without worrying about whether they have some sort of intellectual merit, I don't see much acknowledgement of the creator’s point of view here.

So let’s talk about creative work as what it is: somebody’s dream, which brewed in the dark and solitary chambers of their mind, real but invisible to the outside world. By some miracle of good fortune and incredibly hard work, that dream is made accessible to us, the audience. It’s difficult to express how surreal that really is. Not all media is like this, of course. But sometimes you can see when a story is made with love, that the creator is so in awe of this miracle that they bring all of themselves into it. When that happens, I too fall in love, and preference no longer seems to matter. It’s not, “I enjoy this thing because it’s so ME,” it’s more, “I enjoy it because it’s so THEM.”

I worry sometimes that I have rose-tinted glasses on, but here’s the thing. We seem to over-associate criticism with logic, and praise with delusion, when in reality they are both limited. What I’m talking about here is neither. Sorry if this sounds cheesy, but I think “to love,” means “to know.” It’s where flaws and strengths blend together into a whole that is understood as it is cherished.

All these various observations have been tumbling around in my head more and more since I’ve gotten into this funny little thing called Boku no Hero Academia. It’s so popular, so polarizing, it draws in such a wide range of opinions from so many different kinds of people. I find it fascinating to watch, but, like I just said, it also tends to slap me in the face. Not out of personal offense, mind you. More than anything I’m stunned by how disconnected a lot of people are from this human element, whether they are being negative or positive. Even if they know enough to invoke the name of Horikoshi, they treat him like more of a figure than a real person.

It’s true none of us can actually truly know him. However, I think that while the author/audience relationship is a somewhat parasocial one, it’s worth acknowledging the mutuality of it as well. Let me take you all on a little journey to bring “the creator” down to Earth.

First, a few plain facts: Before bnha, Horikoshi was able to get two other manga into serialization: Oumagadoki Zoo and Barrage. The former lasted 37 chapters from 2010 to 2011. Barrage lasted 16 chapters, in 2012. Juxtapose this with Boku no Hero Academia, which as of writing this, has been running for over 370 chapters spanning 8+ years since 2014. Horikoshi is currently 36 years old (born in 1986).

Now let’s go back even further. His first one-shot was published in 2007, when he was 21. It’s called Tenko, and you can read it in English here. Most obviously, we can see that this Tenko character was later adapted to the Tenko we know in bnha, with a similar power, backstory, and appearance. But I actually think there are a few other ways we can draw comparisons from this genesis of Horikoshi’s career, all the way to the present.

Here is the intro that prefaces the 2007 one-shot:

^I get chills looking at this, and it makes me grin, no joke. Please take a moment to read all the little tidbits. It sounds like the intentionally foreshadowing first scene of a famous person’s biopic, but no one had a clue back then. I just find that so hilarious and moving at the same time.

So think of the Tenko one-shot as a window into who Horikoshi was as an artist and a storyteller pre- pro industry, with the assumption that certain aspects of his work are probably simultaneously a bit more upfront but also underdeveloped. You know, like a kid. There’s both honesty and naivety there. I can also think back to being around 21 myself (only a few years ago lol), about the stories I was writing in school, the workshop classes I was in with other people my age, what they were writing, the things that were important to us that we discussed informing our work. It’s a formative time, right?

One of the primary things I notice about the Tenko one-shot is that it centers themes of power, heroism, and trauma, and has a resolution which involves bridging misunderstandings.

It’s all very ideological, but also full of raw emotion. I read somewhere (sorry can’t remember where) Horikoshi saying that in formulating his idea for the ending of bnha, he has kept asking himself, what does it truly mean to be a hero? It seems he started asking that question way back in 2007, through this little story about swords and their wielders. The Tenko one-shot acknowledges that people and power are morally complicated, as is the idolization of heroes. The ending is hopeful, and looks ahead to times changing for the better by the will of progressively-minded and determined people.

This reminds me of the current arc of the bnha manga, and how the whole story might eventually end. Horikoshi has shown us that the villains are worthy of sympathy, that they are a product of society’s willful ignorance, that “heroes” have also done abhorrent things. But he has also embraced the pure optimism of youth. He seems eager to ask the big questions about right and wrong, and present us with both ambiguity AND certainty. The final fights are not at all a contest of strength, and there are no winners and losers. I’m very curious to see how far he takes this. I’m sure it will ruffle some feathers, and leave some people unsatisfied, but that’s probably a good thing.

The other major thing I notice in the one-shot is the character Hana. Now, as she shares her name with one of the main characters in Oumagadoki Zoo, and they are also similar in personality, that could be where the comparison ends. However, that’s nothing to say Horikoshi didn’t continue her themes elsewhere. The Hana in the Tenko one-shot is primarily preoccupied with her goal of becoming a warrior, and she was inspired some time ago by a warrior who saved her. This other warrior, conicidentally, turns out to be a brutal, a-moral, self-proclaimed demon, and he actually doesn’t take Hana seriously. In some ways, this reminds me of Hawks with his own idols, Endeavor and Lady Nagant, and more generally the idea in bnha that someone you look up to might not be all you imagine them to be. Like All Might and his hidden suffering. Or like Ochako looking up to Izuku up until his solo arc, after which she proclaimed, “special powers are one thing, but there’s no such thing as a special person.”

Speaking of Ochako. Hana’s primary source of angst in the story is that since she is a woman, her “masculine” ambition is laughed at and dismissed. Her dialogue with other characters is very direct about this, which I find pretty interesting.

You can really feel her frustration and see the blatant misogyny in how she’s treated. Even though things are stated kinda bluntly, it feels genuine, ya know? Note that she also wears men’s clothes, and nothing about her appearance is catered to the “male gaze.” I mention all this because to me it contextualizes Horikoshi’s more recent female characters. We can infer that he carried this perspective on, but in subtler and more nuanced ways that might not be immediately noticed. They may sometimes look like shonen stereotypes and be influenced by a misogynistic world, but this is likely an act of parody and/or criticism on Horikoshi’s part. For example Ochako’s fight in the sports festival illustrates a similar point to Hana’s struggle as Katsuki is the only one who takes Ochako seriously while other male classmates see her and other female opponents as inherently weak or potential love interests.

Hana remains ambitious, fostering her own motivation beyond her previous idol, and her ultimate goal is to help people. She reminds me so much of Ochako’s recent convictions. Ochako is fully herself now, and I’m confident her fight with Toga will show this even more, in a way that is much more direct. Since ch 374, I anticipate we may be getting confirmation of things pretty soon, so I wanted to restate that ASAP.

I’ve said this before, but it really does trouble me how a lot of people assume so much about bnha based on other shonen, disregarding the fact that Horikoshi is his own person. This either leads to undo criticisms or expectations that will likely not be delivered on. It makes me sad because I want people to enjoy this story for what it is. I hope this is a reminder that although it may seem on the surface like Horikoshi is rehashing the same old thing, his work really is a labor of love, of knowing. It is an homage, which both celebrates and deconstructs. Please remember that for the day when folks will be scrambling trying to figure out how we got here. Ironically, the signs were there all along, from the start of Horikoshi’s career, if you only care to look.

#Im back? kinda #please be advised that I am busy and tired etc etc #bnha 374 #bnha 375 #bnha 376 #bnha manga #bnha meta #media criticism #shonen #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #uraraka ochako #toga himiko #bakugou kastuki #shimura tenko #lin speaks #long post

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 23 days

Text

Let Me Spell It Out For You

Jax Teller x Rockstar!Reader "Firefly" Ex Bf!Rockstar!Steve Rogers x Reader

Wordcount: 2599

Summary:

It’s Battle of the Bands Night at your local hole in the wall bar run by SAMCROW. You're currently dating their prez Jax Teller. Your lifelong best friend and first real love. Somehow your ex, Steve Rogers and his band The Howlies have shown up, vying for top spot and the cash prize. Such a shame they’ll have to go against you and your all girl group Serenity. It’s going to be a verbal bloodbath and you can’t wait to humiliate his arrogant ass.

Warnings:

Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Exes, Jax Teller Being an Asshole, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism, Accidental Voyeurism, Fuckboy Steve Rogers, rubbing it in your exes face, Teaching A Lesson

Notes:

Hello Heathens, I was feeling some type of way and well this is what came of it. Enjoy the fuck you Steve vibes. Songs lyrics used are in bold. All songs will be credited in the end notes :) HAPPY READING!

Divider @firefly-graphics Banner @cafekitsune

The energy in the bar was none short of chaotic. Between the loud music, the alcohol flowing and the rowdy mix of bikers and patrons it was looking to be a night to remember.

“I can not wait to get up on that stage and destroy some wannabes!” Zoey practically shouts while strapping on her electric guitar.

“Nothing beats that high,” I smile devilishly. “Well except for sex of course.”

We all laugh as we hear our band being called to the stage. “Next up, Serenity!”

It’s the first round of Battle of The Bands Night. I’m not worried about making it to the final round and grabbing the cash prize. Most bands here are so fresh they haven’t performed as a group much yet. So that leaves us at an advantage. We’ve been thick as thieves since high school when we used to skip class and jam out in my garage.

Not wanting to blow our load on the first round we chose to start with “Becky’s So Hot” to show off our sex appeal and my vocal talents. I may be singing about Becky, but in actuality it’s about the time in my life when Jax was dating Tara when he and I were broken up.

I wanted to destroy her for having the audacity to be with him. While at the same time I wanted to know first hand what made her so special that he kept her around as more than just a lay. The feelings were so conflicting, the only way I could work through it was to put it into a song.

Fine, okay, I'll say, I went and stalked her And I don't really blame you 'cause Damn, the waist, the hips, the face, this is awkward Are you in love like we were? If I were you, I'd probably keep her Makes me wanna hit her when I see her 'Cause Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt Ooh, she the one I should hate But I wanna know how she taste I kinda wanna hit her when I see her Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt

As we reach the interlude, my eyes catch the familiar frame of one Steven Grant Rogers. My ex and lead singer of The Howlies. Standing to his left, bass strapped to his chest, is of course Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend and cliché fuckboy musician.

He happens to also be Zoey’s ex. This is going to be interesting to say the least. It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. Much less been in the same room competing to see who the better band is.

It’s us of course. The Howlies are good. But they rely heavily on their good looks to fill seats. About 80% of their fans are of the female variety. Where ours is ratioed at about 60/40.

I turn to Zoey. She gives me a subtle nod. Acknowledging she’s aware of their presence and that it’s playtime.

I scan the crowd for my favorite blonde haired biker until I lock eyes with Jax just as the final chorus begins. I sing to him for a moment before turning my attention back to enticing the crowd into wanting to see more of us.

I sing the last line and drop a kiss to Zoey’s neck, as I stare down our exes. A challenge in my eyes. Tonight just got so much more entertaining.

As predicted, The Howlies make it to the next round. This time we were afforded the chance to watch them go before us.

They leaned full on into the whole sexy bad boy thing, playing “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE”. A song I helped Steve write. It’s a great song. Really gets the ladies hot and bothered. Never ceases to get them laid. Regardless of if they’re attached.

It’s cute that they think they somehow have the upper hand. I have more talent in my pinky finger than the lot of them combined. Plus all that feminine rage to go with it.

With a whispered last line, the song is over. We wait for the next band to finish before we take the stage.

Where The Howlies went for a sexy hair band vibe for this round. We’ve taken the gritty and dirty approach by performing “Drain The Blood”.

See we’re no one trick pony. We can growl and scream with the best of them. While still remaining soft and feminine at the same time.

This song always gets the crowd going. I can see elbows benign thrown and shoulders getting checked from my vantage point on stage. I just feed into the frenzy, hypnotizing the bar with our haunting harmonies over rough chords.

Another round in the bag.

As the night carries on, both of our bands make it to the final round. This is where we pull out all the stops and show them who the better band truly is.

Man is this going to feel great.

The time has come to begin the final round.

It’s just us and The Howlies up on stage ready to give one final performance each. Facing off against each other as we share a stage.

We flipped a coin and the boys won, choosing to go first. Steve saunters up to the mic as the familiar beat of “Tear You Apart” begins behind him.

I’m not surprised they chose to perform this song. It really is their best. Get’s the girls going crazy. They may think they have it in the bag with his haunting tune.

But they couldn't be more wrong.

I watch from our spot at the back of the stage, as Steve swivels and sways his large body to the beat. Singing about crossing the line from friends to lovers. The obsessive need to devour and take control.

He once told me that I was the inspiration behind the music. That he had hungered for me from the moment he met me. That he spent days just biding his time, his mind obsessing. Playing an endless loop of me smiling sweetly. My touches, innocent in nature, felt anything but to him.

I was fuel to his creative mind. The ache he could not soothe until I was unattached.

When I was free from that biker shaped attachment he made his move.

It was intense and volatile. Burning out as quickly as it was set ablaze. For Steven wanted my heart when it has always belonged to another.

He makes a point to turn his back to the audience and move his hips like a hedonistic Elvis. We lock eyes as he sings the last line.

Give me those Ocean eyes all you want, pretty boy. I will never be yours for more than the memories I left your damaged soul with.

If he thought singing that song was going to throw me off somehow because of my affiliation to it, he was more delusional than I thought.

Two can play that game. And I am far better at it.

We wait for the swooning women to settle down as The Howlies step to the side of the stage and take our places. I make a show out of lowering the mic stand while Zoey begins strumming the opening chords to “abcdefu”.

I kept it calm and cute as I sang my own song inspired by Steven.

I swear I meant to mean the best when it ended Even tried to bite my tongue when you start shit Now you're textin' all my friends asking questions They never even liked you in the first place Dated a girl that I hate for the attention She only made it two days, what a connection It's like you'd do anything for my affection You're goin' all about it in the worst ways I was into you, but I'm over it now And I was tryin' to be nice But nothing's getting through, so let me spell it out

I rip the mic off the stand, turn towards The Howlies and flip them the bird as Zoey joins me in singing the chorus.

A-B-C-D-E, FUCK-U And your mom and your sister and your job And your broke-ass car and that shit you call art Fuck you and your friends that I'll never see again Everybody but your dog, you can all fuck off Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah

The look on their faces is priceless. Our song is catchy as fuck and by the time we make it back to the chorus the crowd is already sing along with us. All the women who were drooling over them minutes ago, have now all tapped into their feminine rage.

It’s glorious.

We brought it down to just me and Zoey's guitar as I lightheartedly told them they could all fuck off for the last time.

There was a beat of silence before the crowd erupted and ‘Serenity’ chants began. It was safe to say we won the battle. This particular victory never tasted sweeter.

After accepting our prize and bragging rights, we made our way over to the MC is holding court in their favorite booth.

As we reach the table, Jax stands up and grabs my hand. Pulling me along behind him towards the closed off hall that leads to the extra rooms.

As soon as we clear the doorway, he has me pinned against the wall with his lips locked with mine in a fevered dance.

He pulls away when we are both in need of air. “You are so fucking hot when your up on stage. Even more so when you're being bad. Tell me, darlin’. You wearing anything under these leather shorts?”

“Do you see any panty lines?” I quirk a brow at him.

He literally growls at me before dropping to his knees and untying my shorts. He pulls them down, over my ass and thighs until he reaches my knees. “I only need you to pull one leg out for this.”

“And what pray tell do you have in mind?” I ask as I remove my right leg from the skin tight fabric. Leaving my shorts to gather on my left ankle.

He rises to his feet, unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out. It’s rock hard and angry. A bead of precum perched at the tip ready to drop at any moment.

“Jump.” He demands and I oblige. He grips onto my thighs. Wrapping them around his waist as he slides himself inside me. Pausing when our pelvis’s touch.

The stretch of my walls accommodating his thickness steals my breath away.

We make eye contact as he pulls back and slams forward. I have to bite my lip from moaning out and alerting the bar to what is going on.

Jax ruts into me with the skill and precision of a man who knows all too well what my body craves. But all I can focus on is how amazing his dick feels inside me.

Without a care in the world, he continues to fuck me. He’s so engrossed in trying to take me apart that he doesn't hear the door creak open.

But I do.

I watch over Jax’s leather clad shoulder as Steve walks in. I gasp at being caught by my former lover.

Jax turns his head to the side to see what’s going on. He quirks a brow and then turns back to me, pressing his forehead to mine as he fucks me even harder. Almost as if he’s taunting him.

"Go ahead and keep your eyes on him, darlin’. Watch as he remembers what you look and sound like lost in pleasure. Watch what it does to him.” He states aloud.

I lock eyes with the heavily tattooed blonde Adonis spectating our coupling. Noting the heat and hurt in his eyes. He refuses to move along though. Almost challenging me to follow through and enjoy what is happening.

Alright then, Stevie. Challenge accepted.

I turn my gaze back to the man who owns my heart. Whispering for only us to hear, “Do your worst Jackson. I’m so close, baby. Go ahead and destroy me. Remind the whole bar who I belong to. Then we can get some good food on the way home and then get lost in each other all over again.”

I feel his chest vibrate against mine as he hums his satisfaction with my suggestion.

He pulls his hips back until just his tip remains cushioned by my slightly swollen lips. He takes a moment to turn my head toward a stoic Steve, still taking up space in the small hallway.

“Don’t you dare hold a single moan in. Let them all know. Especially him, why we’re so good together. Understand.” Jax commands.

I barely have a moment to nod my head in agreement before he snaps his hips forward and sinks back deep inside me. A moan escaping my throat at the feeling of being so full once again, so intensely.

Mind set on staking his claim for the whole bar to hear, Jax sets a ruthless pace. My eyes catch the ocean blues of Steve’s once more.

The lust is clear, seemingly overshadowing the hurt for the time being. I don’t shy away from their harshness. I lean into it. Allowing it to fuel the flames of my impending orgasm.

He can be jealous and angry about the current situation all he wants. It won’t change a thing. Hopefully this little display will finally kill whatever thread of us being together he’s holding on to.

I put the thoughts of Steve aside. Focusing on the man between my thighs, thoroughly taking me apart. Placing every bit of love into each wicked thrust. He does that thing I love with his hips. Pivoting them a certain way that allows his tip to graze against my sweet spongy spot.

It’s like a direct line to my climax. With each pass I can feel the coil tighten and a tingle begin at the base of my spine down to my toes.

I’m panting and whimpering, uncaring of my surroundings. I can barely make out Jax’s encouraging words in my ear of how I'm a good girl. That I’m taking him so well.

With a well placed thrust, followed by a grind that has his belt buckle teasing my clit. I give in and succumb to the pleasure of my orgasm taking over me. I sound loud even to myself, as a guttural moan fills the air. I’m barely aware of Jax’s name being screamed out, along with the words yes and oh fuck on repeat.

I can just make out his own roar as he loses himself inside me. Filling me to the brim while he growls sweet praises in my ear as the world seems to fade away.

I have no idea when I closed my eyes, but upon opening them, I see that we are alone again.

Jax takes that moment to grab my chin and lay the softest kiss to my lips. I can’t help but lean into the sweet gesture.

“Come on, darlin’. I’ve been told I need to feed my girl some greasy food before we settle in for the night.”

He helps me back into my shorts before pulling open the door that heads back into the bar. A ruckus of applause meets us as we navigate around the drunken bikers to the exit. Hoots, hollers and whistles follow us out into the night as we climb onto his bike and make our way home.

Notes:

Songs used in this story. I do not own any of the rights these tracks. Please go give each artist a listen. Becky's So Hot - Fletcher I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE - Maneskin Drain The Blood - The Distillers Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge abcdefu (angrier) - GAYLE If you made it to the end, THANK YOU! If you liked it please feel free to let me know (but it's not required); and if you didn't, that's okay too, I still thank you for even giving it a chance.

#poc reader #jax teller x reader #jax teller smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #avengers au

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