dancinginthespirit

[dancinginthespirit]

𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑬 𝑨𝑺 𝑨 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒙 𝑭 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 18+

Kise is a full time model but he believes the real star of the relationship is you. “Y’know my wife Y/N-chii is so gorgeous, I keep telling her she should model with me but she doesn’t want to.” He will ramble to anyone who will listen to him.

If anyone says anything he doesn’t like about you, he’ll cut them off. He doesn’t take inappropriate or disrespectful comments lightly when it comes to you. “Yeah I don’t talk to my cousin anymore, caught him saying that Y/N-chii wasn’t all that. He must be blind because she is all that.”

Would be a good cook if he learned to check on the food and not forget. He always try to cook for you but it failed. “Hey baby I burnt the pasta again, wanna do takeout on me?”

Despite being a model whenever you guys are out or on vacation he’s your camera man. You don’t even ask for picture half the time, he just gets into photographer mode about you. “Wait you look so good right there, let me take a picture.”

Spoils you rotten. Sometimes he has to say no but only for your well being, he hates it too. Never want to see you upset “No baby you don’t need no more shoes. We have no more room in the closet.” Then he takes a look at your pouty face “Okay maybe one more, but I’m serious this time.”

Once you guys started dating he tried to add chii to your nicknames to show that he still respects you but stop quickly after you told him it sounded ridiculously. “Okay I guess my baby-chii it’s just my baby now.”

Tells you everyday how lucky he is. Is so appreciative of your presence in general, he quite literally infatuated with you. “Don’t know what I did to deserve someone so beautiful like you. I love everything about you.”

[dancinginthespirit]

Signaling the account @yorha-number-2-type-e for mysogynistic phrases directed at Orihime and commenting extremely often on IchiHime posts, following IchiHime accounts specifically to harass IchiHime shippers.

Some accounts have already called the user out, and they are not even IchiHime accounts, so you can stay sure that I as an IchiHime shipper am not merely talking out of bias here. Please be vigilant and block them like I did.

[dancinginthespirit]

of all dreams: you ─ songs of love & devotion. ⠀⠀⠀⠀pre-boyfriend!sasuke, tender fragrant confections.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who listens to all your dreams. whether the dreams that visit you at night or those that are born during the day, sasuke would always listen to your dreams. when you lost yourself in the mystical words of your memory, sasuke would simply be lost in your existence. your sentences seemed to gain light, bathed in the stardust that adorned our entire sky; your expressions were echoes of the legends of the ancients; and the enthusiasm that painted your eyes was enough to manage to steal from sasuke a small and shy smile. in the persistence of your adventures, sasuke saw in you the certainty of a future, as if all your dreams were a call for what could exist. ‘tell me your stories. let me hear what your heart creates to understand what i can give of myself to satisfy you.’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who still remembers the day he met you. the first day, it was just a glimpse. like a delicate breeze on a summer day, your figure passed by sasuke as if he didn't exist. They were brief seconds that didn’t manage to form a minute, but an entire eternity resided in them. in a simple exchange of glances, sasuke noticed your simplicity, an almost natural light contrasting strongly with the last rays of sunlight; in a small, forced, cordial smile, so often exchanged between so many people, sasuke noticed your identity, a celestial intensity that beautified your existence; and when he heard you, when your voice very discreetly introduced you as the new neighbor, sasuke knew that that couldn’t be the last time he heard your words.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who believes in your superstitions. if you asked sasuke, he would say he didn’t believe in those legends; i mean, how could you have an unlucky day because you walked under a ladder? and a child’s height was ruined if you walked over them? how ridiculous — the universe isn’t waiting for a mistake of yours to punish you. the universe didn’t need any excuse to punish anyone. but when you asked him not to spill the salt or put his shoes with the soles facing up; when you asked him to knock on wood three times or not to sweep your feet; when you explained each and every one of your superstitions to him, sasuke became more alert. it was one thing for him to risk the wrath of the universe, to bring bad luck or good luck only to himself. it was another thing for you. you couldn’t be the victim of the universe. sasuke didn’t want you to suffer, not like that. that’s why, for you, sasuke believed in your spiel and did everything he could to bring you good fortune. ‘wait, are you telling me you’re not going to dinner because there are 13 of us? how does that bring bad luck? no, no. i'm not doubting you, but i wish you would go.’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who likes it when his clothes smell like you. sasuke has already stopped wondering how your scent constantly clung to his clothes and, quite honestly, he didn’t care. at the end of the day, already tired of his own existence and without patience for life, sasuke took off his clothes slowly, with regret, wishing that this need was completely non-existent. but when the shirt passed over his face and your sweet and familiar scent lodged in sasuke’s nose and heart, he stopped. the memory of the day was clouded, a little blurry, completely ruined by the extreme fatigue that he felt; but your scent, that cosmic essence of yours that had clung to sasuke, brought him a peculiar comfort wrapped in sheets of security and eternity. for a few seconds, when the smile on his face lost its shyness and reminded him of a day with you, sasuke forgot his fatigue and realized that life, perhaps, was not a task but a possibility.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who hides all the smiles you draw on his face. it was a secret that sasuke would have difficulty confessing. he knew perfectly well that that simple curve that you drew on his face was something more than a simple smile. with your words, your kindness and tenderness, the smile that tore across sasuke’s face was shy and new, bathed in the blossoming of an emotion that had not yet been discovered by him. with your gestures, your joy and security, the smile that painted sasuke’s face was unique and special, marinated with the certainty that it would never be stolen. ‘no, i’m not smiling,’ was what sasuke said. ‘there’s nothing on my face. shut up.’ but you knew that his words were disguised as indifference. you knew that beneath that thin layer of ice there was a fire lit by you and that you would ensure that it would be eternal.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who sees through your voice what’s in your heart. sasuke learned to know you. spending so much time with you, between missions and outings, it was easy for sasuke to get to know your soul. at a glance, looking at you quickly just to make sure you were okay, sasuke could find a movement in your body that betrayed your melancholy. in conversations, between exchanges of wise words and others that were unnecessary, sasuke deciphered the tone of your sentences that reflected what was in your heart. wherever you were, however you were, sasuke knew you like no one else and there was no need for a request for him to help you. ‘sometimes it’s easier to accept our past than to try to run away from it. the choices that brought us to this moment shouldn’t be forgotten. despite everything, despite so much, you’re here, aren’t you? and isn’t that enough in itself?’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who had to gather courage but managed to talk to you. sasuke would never admit how long it took for him to gather courage and talk to you. all that matters is that he talked to you. kind of clumsy and not knowing how to formulate sentences, but, even so, sasuke spoke to you and it was that first step of his that made your whole story eternal. ‘i never thought i would get to this point in my life. to tell the truth, i never thought i would feel at all what is inside me. but i feel like there is no more hiding or containing it and i really need to talk to you before i burst from so many words that want to come out. the darkness that resides in me finds its light in you. it is as if the darkness in me was created from the softest silk and you are using it to weave a path to me. a bright and warm path, as if your own soul was a flame lit just to warm me. and i like that feeling. i like how you let me be vulnerable without being afraid of being judged. i like the way you make me feel safe. and i like you.’

[dancinginthespirit]

of all dreams: you ─ songs of love & devotion. ⠀⠀⠀⠀pre-boyfriend!sasuke, tender fragrant confections.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who listens to all your dreams. whether the dreams that visit you at night or those that are born during the day, sasuke would always listen to your dreams. when you lost yourself in the mystical words of your memory, sasuke would simply be lost in your existence. your sentences seemed to gain light, bathed in the stardust that adorned our entire sky; your expressions were echoes of the legends of the ancients; and the enthusiasm that painted your eyes was enough to manage to steal from sasuke a small and shy smile. in the persistence of your adventures, sasuke saw in you the certainty of a future, as if all your dreams were a call for what could exist. ‘tell me your stories. let me hear what your heart creates to understand what i can give of myself to satisfy you.’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who still remembers the day he met you. the first day, it was just a glimpse. like a delicate breeze on a summer day, your figure passed by sasuke as if he didn't exist. They were brief seconds that didn’t manage to form a minute, but an entire eternity resided in them. in a simple exchange of glances, sasuke noticed your simplicity, an almost natural light contrasting strongly with the last rays of sunlight; in a small, forced, cordial smile, so often exchanged between so many people, sasuke noticed your identity, a celestial intensity that beautified your existence; and when he heard you, when your voice very discreetly introduced you as the new neighbor, sasuke knew that that couldn’t be the last time he heard your words.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who believes in your superstitions. if you asked sasuke, he would say he didn’t believe in those legends; i mean, how could you have an unlucky day because you walked under a ladder? and a child’s height was ruined if you walked over them? how ridiculous — the universe isn’t waiting for a mistake of yours to punish you. the universe didn’t need any excuse to punish anyone. but when you asked him not to spill the salt or put his shoes with the soles facing up; when you asked him to knock on wood three times or not to sweep your feet; when you explained each and every one of your superstitions to him, sasuke became more alert. it was one thing for him to risk the wrath of the universe, to bring bad luck or good luck only to himself. it was another thing for you. you couldn’t be the victim of the universe. sasuke didn’t want you to suffer, not like that. that’s why, for you, sasuke believed in your spiel and did everything he could to bring you good fortune. ‘wait, are you telling me you’re not going to dinner because there are 13 of us? how does that bring bad luck? no, no. i'm not doubting you, but i wish you would go.’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who likes it when his clothes smell like you. sasuke has already stopped wondering how your scent constantly clung to his clothes and, quite honestly, he didn’t care. at the end of the day, already tired of his own existence and without patience for life, sasuke took off his clothes slowly, with regret, wishing that this need was completely non-existent. but when the shirt passed over his face and your sweet and familiar scent lodged in sasuke’s nose and heart, he stopped. the memory of the day was clouded, a little blurry, completely ruined by the extreme fatigue that he felt; but your scent, that cosmic essence of yours that had clung to sasuke, brought him a peculiar comfort wrapped in sheets of security and eternity. for a few seconds, when the smile on his face lost its shyness and reminded him of a day with you, sasuke forgot his fatigue and realized that life, perhaps, was not a task but a possibility.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who hides all the smiles you draw on his face. it was a secret that sasuke would have difficulty confessing. he knew perfectly well that that simple curve that you drew on his face was something more than a simple smile. with your words, your kindness and tenderness, the smile that tore across sasuke’s face was shy and new, bathed in the blossoming of an emotion that had not yet been discovered by him. with your gestures, your joy and security, the smile that painted sasuke’s face was unique and special, marinated with the certainty that it would never be stolen. ‘no, i’m not smiling,’ was what sasuke said. ‘there’s nothing on my face. shut up.’ but you knew that his words were disguised as indifference. you knew that beneath that thin layer of ice there was a fire lit by you and that you would ensure that it would be eternal.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who sees through your voice what’s in your heart. sasuke learned to know you. spending so much time with you, between missions and outings, it was easy for sasuke to get to know your soul. at a glance, looking at you quickly just to make sure you were okay, sasuke could find a movement in your body that betrayed your melancholy. in conversations, between exchanges of wise words and others that were unnecessary, sasuke deciphered the tone of your sentences that reflected what was in your heart. wherever you were, however you were, sasuke knew you like no one else and there was no need for a request for him to help you. ‘sometimes it’s easier to accept our past than to try to run away from it. the choices that brought us to this moment shouldn’t be forgotten. despite everything, despite so much, you’re here, aren’t you? and isn’t that enough in itself?’

PRE-BOYFRIEND!SASUKE who had to gather courage but managed to talk to you. sasuke would never admit how long it took for him to gather courage and talk to you. all that matters is that he talked to you. kind of clumsy and not knowing how to formulate sentences, but, even so, sasuke spoke to you and it was that first step of his that made your whole story eternal. ‘i never thought i would get to this point in my life. to tell the truth, i never thought i would feel at all what is inside me. but i feel like there is no more hiding or containing it and i really need to talk to you before i burst from so many words that want to come out. the darkness that resides in me finds its light in you. it is as if the darkness in me was created from the softest silk and you are using it to weave a path to me. a bright and warm path, as if your own soul was a flame lit just to warm me. and i like that feeling. i like how you let me be vulnerable without being afraid of being judged. i like the way you make me feel safe. and i like you.’

[dancinginthespirit]

15*

[dancinginthespirit]

Who the fuck was gonna tell me sa1ntd1or fucking deactivated their account? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?? BRO DO U HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND A GOOD BATMAN FANFIC WRITER?? WHO THE HELL SAID SHITTY THINGS ABOUT MY FAV CREATOR FOR THEM TO FUCKING QUIT THEIR FUCKING WRITING???!!! I hope you know what you fucking did.

Love u sa1ntd1or, u were the best for me

[dancinginthespirit]

this is taking way longer than I expected

beachIchiHime -> Nurse!Hime Shinigami!Ichigo (Pilot episode AU) -> Boyfriend shirt situation in the middle of the battlefield

[dancinginthespirit]

Ichihime week Chibis!

I loved the drawing i made, and i wanted to try a new chibi style so... HAVE A BUNCH OF CHIBIS!!

Day 1 chibis!

Before Ichigo had to leave they were watching cat videos in bed (very platonically, it was just very cold)

Day 2 chibis!

Ichigo ended up ruining the foot battle by starting a tickle war!!

Day 3 chibis!

Orihime's outfit has patterns of all of her Rikka flowers, except Shun-no, he is representes by the pearly green accessory

Day 4 chibis!

Even with the gloves, Orihime ended up getting a little burned so they both are resting in the river

Day 5 chibis!

Ichigo got a gift with a custom helmet for Orihime since they ride on his bike often and the fans know. She nearly died until he clarified that someone gave it to him for her... sightly dissapointing

Day 6 chibis!

When Ichigo died, he went to the soul king palace to work with them and prepare to become the Soul King... Orihime on her side was appointed to help in the squad 4 and learn kido. Ichigo lives in the Seireitei with Orihime.

Orihime makes a joke once about Ichigo technically being single again since their vows were "till death do us part" and Ichigo took it incredibly bad, prepared a date and asked her to marry him again.

Day 7 not chibis!

Just wanted more Kazui!

[dancinginthespirit]

Ichihime week Chibis!

I loved the drawing i made, and i wanted to try a new chibi style so... HAVE A BUNCH OF CHIBIS!!

Day 1 chibis!

Before Ichigo had to leave they were watching cat videos in bed (very platonically, it was just very cold)

Day 2 chibis!

Ichigo ended up ruining the foot battle by starting a tickle war!!

Day 3 chibis!

Orihime's outfit has patterns of all of her Rikka flowers, except Shun-no, he is representes by the pearly green accessory

Day 4 chibis!

Even with the gloves, Orihime ended up getting a little burned so they both are resting in the river

Day 5 chibis!

Ichigo got a gift with a custom helmet for Orihime since they ride on his bike often and the fans know. She nearly died until he clarified that someone gave it to him for her... sightly dissapointing

Day 6 chibis!

When Ichigo died, he went to the soul king palace to work with them and prepare to become the Soul King... Orihime on her side was appointed to help in the squad 4 and learn kido. Ichigo lives in the Seireitei with Orihime.

Orihime makes a joke once about Ichigo technically being single again since their vows were "till death do us part" and Ichigo took it incredibly bad, prepared a date and asked her to marry him again.

Day 7 not chibis!

Just wanted more Kazui!

[dancinginthespirit]

[dancinginthespirit]

Ranking Means Nothing = Requested

The Request

[E-Rank!Sung Jinwoo x S-Rank Summoner!Reader]

“Sung Jinwoo!”

The man flinched as his head robotically turned to the entrance of his hospital room. He chuckled and waved you hi while calling your name out shyly. Meanwhile, you had been stomping over to his bedside with a small white dragon perched on your shoulder and a wolf balancing a basket of fruits on top of its head and there was even a bag of takeouts in its mouth.

“You left for another raid again!” You scolded him with a frown and harsh glare, “And without at least one- no, two of my summons!”

“I don’t want to bother you…” Jinwoo looked away with a guilty look. “Maintaining summons takes a lot of mana, energy, and concentration. The farther it gets from you, the more it requires. You know that… And I can’t burden you with it.”

You maintained your stern look, this time crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s fine. You know I can manage it. I’m the best summoner there is.” You sighed and dropped it, “You’re lucky they’re attached to you too.” A black snake slithered from under your coat sleeve, flicking its forked tongue at Jinwoo and hissed. “If this little guy didn’t take the hit for you, you’d definitely be a goner and I wouldn’t be here yelling at you. I’d probably be crying over your d-” You shook your head and looked away from him, unable to bear the thought, “Never mind.”

Your dragon cooed and nuzzled your cheek, your wolf whimpered and looked up at you, and even your snake tightened its grip on your arm. All your summons comforted you as best they could.

“I’m sorry and thank you.” Jinwoo took your hands in his. You looked up at him, that bittersweet smile he carried more often than he should and that look of helplessness. “I know you mean well. I know…”

With a huff, you eyed your little dragon and nodded in Jinwoo’s direction. The dragon flapped its wings and moved from your shoulder to hug Jinwoo’s head from the back. It roared cutely before a glow of mana covered Jinwoo’s entire form like a light show. The wounds under the various layers of bandages all faded away and Jinwoo’s complexion looked better. When its job was done, the dragon nuzzled at Jinwoo as well, even biting onto his longer hair strands.

Both of you giggled.

“Jinwoo, remember. I told you this before. I do not regret ever being yours and I do not regret you wanting to be mine.” You smiled at him with sincerity. 

The young man smiled back, “I do not regret it too, just… Sometimes it gets to me.”

You didn’t say anything more. You understood Jinwoo and his lack of confidence. As cruel as it was, it was normal, common even, to hear him say that more and more after he was awakened as an E-Rank Hunter.

Going back. It was a day like any other that you two met. 

You were annoyed by reporters here and there, unable to even enjoy some time to relax and rewind after completing a raid with your guildmates. Wherever you went, you were gushed over by your prowess as an S-Rank Hunter. You were like an idol or some famous whatever. You hated all that attention. You weren’t you and you weren’t just the amazing and strong S-Rank Hunter. It was even worse when barely any was around, so all eyes were on you.

It irked you to no end.

So you ran. 

Without looking at where you were running towards.

Your body collided straight into another. Your quicker reflexes let you stabilized and you realized your fault without missing a beat. Your arm reached out and held the other by the shoulder, well, you were aiming for the wrist but it turns out you two were closer than expected. “Sorry.”

“No, no, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” A soft voice spoke apologetically.

You wanted to explain it was your fault, but your ears twitched when the obsessive crowd was nearing you. You twirled the person to stand behind you, “Sorry, no time to explain. Just hold on!”

“Hold on?!”

“Summon! Come forth, my dragon!” You activated your summoning with an opened palm in front of you, your other hand covering for the person behind you. The giant magic circle appeared below your feet and glowed as a creature started to rise from the ground up.

“Ahh!” 

You felt your form hugged from behind by the waist, but you didn’t care. You two were already mounted on the back of your summon, “Take to the skies!”

A roar was let out before its wings opened and flapped; with a few more, all three of you were airborne. You kept your hands on the spiky neck to prevent your falling over, since it also meant the person behind you would fall to their death as well. Speaking of…

“Sorry about this, I was running away from some annoying pest.” You chuckled, “I’ll give you a lift home as compensation, would that do?”

“What?!” You felt the shaking form very close to you, “Did you say something?”

Ah, the wind. You patted twice on the dragon for it to slow down and it did. Then you repeated, “The fault was mine, I was busy running from some paparazzi and bumped into you. Can I offer you a ride home?”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I can just train the subway.”

You hummed, “Hey, this might be rude��� But… You’re a guy, right?” 

You felt a flinch that followed with speedy blabbering. “What?! Of course I’m a guy! Do- Do I look like a girl?!”

“I thought you were a flat-chested young lady…” You answered honestly. “Your figure was… misleading…”

There were a few moments of silence apart from the sounds of flapping wings and the winds.

“So about that ride home?”

And that was how you met Jinwoo. First you bumped into him, practically kidnapped him into the skies, mistook him for a girl, and then you sent him home. Yeah… It was quite the day. At least meeting his family wasn’t too bad, apart from explaining why you brought Jinwoo home.

Contrary to your fears, you were treated well. None of them were overbearing and they were pretty tamed. Though it probably made sense cause their father, Sung Il-Hwan, was an S-Rank himself. He was formerly a firefighter and awakened as an S-Rank. He offered to train you in some combat in case you were in danger. Saying that you couldn’t just rely on your summons. You grudgingly agreed to it and have been meeting up with the Sung family more often than not.

Jinwoo’s head appeared in your view of the wonderful ceiling with an awkward smile, “Resting?”

“Your father’s a menace.” You cursed with a glare. “Mages like me don’t do fighting. We have tankers and fighters to do that for us.”

All Jinwoo could do was chuckle and pass you a bottle of cool water to hydrate yourself after your sparring training. You sat up and gulped down half of the bottle before you released a satisfied sigh. You stole peeks at Jinwoo while he went around cleaning the dojo, a place close to his home and a place his father frequented to train. 

“What are you staring at?”

“Gahh!” You immediately sprung up to your feet and raised your hands.

Il-Hwan gave you a once-over before nodding, “Good, your reaction time improved. But if I were a dungeon monster, you’re dead.”

You groaned and relaxed yourself, “Is everything a lesson with you, Teacher? Can’t I even rest in peace?”

“Hunters constantly face life or death. It is better to be trained than not.” Il-Hwan lectured. He did catch your eye rolling while crossing your arms. He smiled with a huff, “So, my son?”

You blushed. “What?! No! I didn’t feel for- I mean fell- I mean fall for him! At all! I swear!”

At that, he chuckled, “Hey, I didn’t say anything. Yet.” He grinned at you, “I say you exposed yourself entirely.”

“I see where Jinwoo gets his cheekiness…” You fanned your face. “If… I do… You know, pop the question… Will you and Mrs. Sung let us?”

“The choice is up to my son.” Il-Hwan looked over to his child with a fond and relaxed gaze. You shared the same gaze as Jinwoo played around with a few of your weaker summons you placed on the Sung family for protection. They were weak in comparison to your main summons, but they weren’t to be underestimated all the same. Your attention shifted when your mentor spoke again, “My family is everything, I’ll do anything to keep them safe. That said. Though, if you were to get together with my son or not, I’d like to ask for a favour.”

You hummed, signalling him to continue and that you were giving him your full attention.

“If anything ever happens to me in a dungeon, please look after my family. I’ll do the same to yours if the situation were reversed.” Il-Hwan spoke with such unwavering seriousness that you couldn’t help but admire it.

As much as you wanted to deny it would ever happen to him or you, it was a fool’s wish. Anything could happen in a dungeon and to anyone. None are truly safe. Even with the highest rank, the most powerful skills, the most impenetrable shield, or the most formidable armour. A human is just a human at the end of the day.

You smiled, “Don’t worry, I already consider you all to be my family. Even if you didn’t ask,” Your summons appeared behind you, “I’ll protect and care for you all as one of my own without question.”

Note: This is a short one, but I do plan to make another upload soon. As a series confirmation of its continuation: {Inhumans Among Humans}, the teaser is officially the prologue now and will continue as a series with massive updates each time. The relationship is romantic between Jinwoo and Reader, and the plot will stop before the events of the Jeju Island. Hope you guys look forward to that.

Enough about that series. How do you like this one? Short but fluff. Hehe.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @rozuburedo @ariseverdark @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme @stoats-a-dork @daiyanomochi @snowy-violet @sleepyamaya @thetruepair @aixaingela

[dancinginthespirit]

Ranking Means Nothing = Requested

The Request

[E-Rank!Sung Jinwoo x S-Rank Summoner!Reader]

“Sung Jinwoo!”

The man flinched as his head robotically turned to the entrance of his hospital room. He chuckled and waved you hi while calling your name out shyly. Meanwhile, you had been stomping over to his bedside with a small white dragon perched on your shoulder and a wolf balancing a basket of fruits on top of its head and there was even a bag of takeouts in its mouth.

“You left for another raid again!” You scolded him with a frown and harsh glare, “And without at least one- no, two of my summons!”

“I don’t want to bother you…” Jinwoo looked away with a guilty look. “Maintaining summons takes a lot of mana, energy, and concentration. The farther it gets from you, the more it requires. You know that… And I can’t burden you with it.”

You maintained your stern look, this time crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s fine. You know I can manage it. I’m the best summoner there is.” You sighed and dropped it, “You’re lucky they’re attached to you too.” A black snake slithered from under your coat sleeve, flicking its forked tongue at Jinwoo and hissed. “If this little guy didn’t take the hit for you, you’d definitely be a goner and I wouldn’t be here yelling at you. I’d probably be crying over your d-” You shook your head and looked away from him, unable to bear the thought, “Never mind.”

Your dragon cooed and nuzzled your cheek, your wolf whimpered and looked up at you, and even your snake tightened its grip on your arm. All your summons comforted you as best they could.

“I’m sorry and thank you.” Jinwoo took your hands in his. You looked up at him, that bittersweet smile he carried more often than he should and that look of helplessness. “I know you mean well. I know…”

With a huff, you eyed your little dragon and nodded in Jinwoo’s direction. The dragon flapped its wings and moved from your shoulder to hug Jinwoo’s head from the back. It roared cutely before a glow of mana covered Jinwoo’s entire form like a light show. The wounds under the various layers of bandages all faded away and Jinwoo’s complexion looked better. When its job was done, the dragon nuzzled at Jinwoo as well, even biting onto his longer hair strands.

Both of you giggled.

“Jinwoo, remember. I told you this before. I do not regret ever being yours and I do not regret you wanting to be mine.” You smiled at him with sincerity. 

The young man smiled back, “I do not regret it too, just… Sometimes it gets to me.”

You didn’t say anything more. You understood Jinwoo and his lack of confidence. As cruel as it was, it was normal, common even, to hear him say that more and more after he was awakened as an E-Rank Hunter.

Going back. It was a day like any other that you two met. 

You were annoyed by reporters here and there, unable to even enjoy some time to relax and rewind after completing a raid with your guildmates. Wherever you went, you were gushed over by your prowess as an S-Rank Hunter. You were like an idol or some famous whatever. You hated all that attention. You weren’t you and you weren’t just the amazing and strong S-Rank Hunter. It was even worse when barely any was around, so all eyes were on you.

It irked you to no end.

So you ran. 

Without looking at where you were running towards.

Your body collided straight into another. Your quicker reflexes let you stabilized and you realized your fault without missing a beat. Your arm reached out and held the other by the shoulder, well, you were aiming for the wrist but it turns out you two were closer than expected. “Sorry.”

“No, no, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” A soft voice spoke apologetically.

You wanted to explain it was your fault, but your ears twitched when the obsessive crowd was nearing you. You twirled the person to stand behind you, “Sorry, no time to explain. Just hold on!”

“Hold on?!”

“Summon! Come forth, my dragon!” You activated your summoning with an opened palm in front of you, your other hand covering for the person behind you. The giant magic circle appeared below your feet and glowed as a creature started to rise from the ground up.

“Ahh!” 

You felt your form hugged from behind by the waist, but you didn’t care. You two were already mounted on the back of your summon, “Take to the skies!”

A roar was let out before its wings opened and flapped; with a few more, all three of you were airborne. You kept your hands on the spiky neck to prevent your falling over, since it also meant the person behind you would fall to their death as well. Speaking of…

“Sorry about this, I was running away from some annoying pest.” You chuckled, “I’ll give you a lift home as compensation, would that do?”

“What?!” You felt the shaking form very close to you, “Did you say something?”

Ah, the wind. You patted twice on the dragon for it to slow down and it did. Then you repeated, “The fault was mine, I was busy running from some paparazzi and bumped into you. Can I offer you a ride home?”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I can just train the subway.”

You hummed, “Hey, this might be rude… But… You’re a guy, right?” 

You felt a flinch that followed with speedy blabbering. “What?! Of course I’m a guy! Do- Do I look like a girl?!”

“I thought you were a flat-chested young lady…” You answered honestly. “Your figure was… misleading…”

There were a few moments of silence apart from the sounds of flapping wings and the winds.

“So about that ride home?”

And that was how you met Jinwoo. First you bumped into him, practically kidnapped him into the skies, mistook him for a girl, and then you sent him home. Yeah… It was quite the day. At least meeting his family wasn’t too bad, apart from explaining why you brought Jinwoo home.

Contrary to your fears, you were treated well. None of them were overbearing and they were pretty tamed. Though it probably made sense cause their father, Sung Il-Hwan, was an S-Rank himself. He was formerly a firefighter and awakened as an S-Rank. He offered to train you in some combat in case you were in danger. Saying that you couldn’t just rely on your summons. You grudgingly agreed to it and have been meeting up with the Sung family more often than not.

Jinwoo’s head appeared in your view of the wonderful ceiling with an awkward smile, “Resting?”

“Your father’s a menace.” You cursed with a glare. “Mages like me don’t do fighting. We have tankers and fighters to do that for us.”

All Jinwoo could do was chuckle and pass you a bottle of cool water to hydrate yourself after your sparring training. You sat up and gulped down half of the bottle before you released a satisfied sigh. You stole peeks at Jinwoo while he went around cleaning the dojo, a place close to his home and a place his father frequented to train. 

“What are you staring at?”

“Gahh!” You immediately sprung up to your feet and raised your hands.

Il-Hwan gave you a once-over before nodding, “Good, your reaction time improved. But if I were a dungeon monster, you’re dead.”

You groaned and relaxed yourself, “Is everything a lesson with you, Teacher? Can’t I even rest in peace?”

“Hunters constantly face life or death. It is better to be trained than not.” Il-Hwan lectured. He did catch your eye rolling while crossing your arms. He smiled with a huff, “So, my son?”

You blushed. “What?! No! I didn’t feel for- I mean fell- I mean fall for him! At all! I swear!”

At that, he chuckled, “Hey, I didn’t say anything. Yet.” He grinned at you, “I say you exposed yourself entirely.”

“I see where Jinwoo gets his cheekiness…” You fanned your face. “If… I do… You know, pop the question… Will you and Mrs. Sung let us?”

“The choice is up to my son.” Il-Hwan looked over to his child with a fond and relaxed gaze. You shared the same gaze as Jinwoo played around with a few of your weaker summons you placed on the Sung family for protection. They were weak in comparison to your main summons, but they weren’t to be underestimated all the same. Your attention shifted when your mentor spoke again, “My family is everything, I’ll do anything to keep them safe. That said. Though, if you were to get together with my son or not, I’d like to ask for a favour.”

You hummed, signalling him to continue and that you were giving him your full attention.

“If anything ever happens to me in a dungeon, please look after my family. I’ll do the same to yours if the situation were reversed.” Il-Hwan spoke with such unwavering seriousness that you couldn’t help but admire it.

As much as you wanted to deny it would ever happen to him or you, it was a fool’s wish. Anything could happen in a dungeon and to anyone. None are truly safe. Even with the highest rank, the most powerful skills, the most impenetrable shield, or the most formidable armour. A human is just a human at the end of the day.

You smiled, “Don’t worry, I already consider you all to be my family. Even if you didn’t ask,” Your summons appeared behind you, “I’ll protect and care for you all as one of my own without question.”

Note: This is a short one, but I do plan to make another upload soon. As a series confirmation of its continuation: {Inhumans Among Humans}, the teaser is officially the prologue now and will continue as a series with massive updates each time. The relationship is romantic between Jinwoo and Reader, and the plot will stop before the events of the Jeju Island. Hope you guys look forward to that.

Enough about that series. How do you like this one? Short but fluff. Hehe.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @rozuburedo @ariseverdark @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme @stoats-a-dork @daiyanomochi @snowy-violet @sleepyamaya @thetruepair @aixaingela

[dancinginthespirit]

Chapter Three | Again, And Again, And You

Chapter Three: A+ for Effort, F for Sleep Strategy

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Word Count: 5,8k

Summary:

You've lived through countless timelines—each one shaped by monsters, magic, and the unbearable weight of knowing too much. Until you wake up in a version of reality where none of that ever happened. No dungeons. No deaths. Just high school… and him. Sung Jinwoo—quiet, intense, and impossibly familiar—is here too, and maybe this time, it'll be you who changes his world.

Notes:

honestly I've worked more on this chapter than on my thesis and I'm going insane

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Jinwoo lay on his bed, one arm lazily behind his head, staring up at the ceiling like it might have the answers he's looking for. The moonlight sneaked in through the cracked window, painting the room in silver streaks, and the night outside was so quiet it made every thought in his head sound louder.

Sleep wasn’t coming tonight. He could tell.

His mind kept drifting back — back to you, to that rooftop, to the way your voice had broken, how you had clutched at his sleeves like you were terrified of being left behind.

And maybe you had every right to be.

He hadn't even realized until then how much weight you were carrying. How much you had been hiding behind that easy smile of yours.

He shut his eyes and exhaled slowly. His chest felt tight from something warm, aching, impossible to name.

He knew what he should be doing.

Preparing. Training. Finishing what he started.

There were Monarchs to defeat, a world to save.

But right now, the thought of leaving you, even for that, twisted his gut.

Maybe... maybe he didn't have to rush.

He had some time to spare.

He could stay until graduation, right?.

Another few months wouldn’t change anything — he was strong enough.

And you looked like you needed someone that could understand you.

And — he wanted to be here, too.

He cracked his eyes open, looking at the ceiling like it was a silent judge to his thoughts.

Would it be selfish?

Is it wrong to want a little bit of normal, before everything went to hell again?

He thought about it — about you.

How in the past, you had always seemed distant, like a celebrity just out of reach. But you were right there.

Someone he respected, yes, but also someone he could never quite approach.

You had always felt like a story he wasn’t allowed to read. Your eyes always held this quiet knowing—like nothing could surprise you.

But this time, you were different.

This time, you smiled without hesitation. You laughed like the world hadn't hardened you yet. You looked... free.

And maybe he wanted to be part of that.

Maybe he wanted to see who you were without all the weight, without the war, without the titles and expectations.

He curled his fingers into the bedsheets, frustration bubbling quietly under his skin.

He always wanted to talk to you — not as a warrior to a comrade but just... as himself. Jinwoo.

And you — just you.

Was that so wrong?

He huffed quietly into the dark.

He needed an excuse, some way to justify staying longer.

He could say he needed to rest before going into the next fight. He could say he wanted to finish school properly. That he wanted a normal life, even if only for a little while.

And that wouldn't even be a lie.

He did want that.

After so much time, he should be allowed to live a little without rushing toward death, right?

He should let himself have this small slice of something normal.

He turned onto his side, eyes heavy but mind racing, and pulled the thin blanket up over his mouth, letting out a muffled, frustrated noise.

He'd stay until graduation.

He decided it in that moment, locking it in his chest like a secret.

He would protect you and when the time came, when you were ready, he would leave.

When you didn’t need him to be your safety net anymore.

Maybe, he thought, if he did this right, he could be a part of your freedom.

Maybe this time, he could leave you smiling, not broken.

The thought — embarrassingly corny as it was — made something flutter weakly in his chest, like a tiny bird finally stretching its wings.

God, he really couldn’t sleep now.

He swung his legs off the side of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, running both hands roughly through his hair.

He needed to see you. Needed to talk to you.

Even if you weren’t awake yet, even if it meant waiting until morning.

He didn’t care.

He would wait at the school gates if he had to.

Just... to catch a moment. To say something.

He got up, grabbed his jacket — and hesitated a moment, glancing back at the bed he knew he wasn’t coming back to tonight.

One last small, stupid, stubborn smile tugged at his lips.

For now, he'll allow himself to be selfish.

Just for a little while.

Moments later, Jinwoo found himself standing at the school gates — freezing, sleep-deprived, and questioning why he thought this was a good idea.

He shivered and stuffed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. His breath fogged in the cold December air, little clouds puffing out with every exhale.

Not once in his entire school career had he been this early.

Not once.

He didn’t even know how early you showed up every day. All he knew was that whenever he walked into class — dragging his feet, half-awake — you were already there, bright-eyed, chatting easily with a couple of girls about whatever drama had aired the night before.

He had always thought you were just one of those people — the morning people. The ones who could watch TV until late, still beat everyone to school, and somehow look good doing it.

Meanwhile, he stood here now, bleary-eyed, teeth chattering, and half-certain his ears were going to fall off from the cold.

Maybe I got here way too early, he thought, miserably blowing into his cupped hands for warmth.

Maybe this was stupid.

The sky was still more purple than blue, and frost clung to the edges of the fence. The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional car passing by with its headlights cutting through the misty morning gloom.

He shifted on his feet and tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the early hours of the morning — or what little of it he had actually slept through.

Jinwoo had swiftly rolled out of bed, eyes stinging from barely any sleep, and stumbled into the kitchen. And settling his jacket on one of the kitchen chairs.

His father, who was in the middle of sipping his coffee with the morning paper, blinked at him in surprise.

“You’re up early.”

Jinwoo scrubbed a hand down his face, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw. “Couldn’t sleep much,” he muttered.

“Is there a reason why?” his dad asked, setting down his cup with a hint of concern in his voice.

It wasn't just the lack of sleep that bothered him — it was... Jinwoo himself.

There was something different about him lately. Subtle. Hard to pin down. Like his little boy had suddenly grown a thousand miles away overnight.

Jinwoo fumbled for an excuse but came up empty.

“Dunno,” he lied unconvincingly, scratching the back of his neck.

Out of habit — and forgetting entirely that his dad was still there (normally he'd already left for work when he woke up) — Jinwoo reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a full cup of black coffee.

His father watched in stunned silence, mouth slightly open, as Jinwoo brought the cup to his lips and took a generous sip.

The coffee was bitter, sour, and somehow offensively strong.

It tasted like a battle.

Still, Jinwoo fought through the grimace, as he turned to face his dad — who was now looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Since when do you drink coffee?” his dad asked, suspicious.

Jinwoo hesitated for a beat too long. Then, with the slow carefulness of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he answered, “Uhh... I tried it last week when you had some leftovers? And I liked it?”

Even he didn’t sound convinced.

His dad stood up, took the cup out of his hands, and took a sip for himself.

Immediately he grimaced and shook his head.

“No more coffee for you, young man.”

Jinwoo sighed and offered a small, obedient scowl.

“Yes, sir.”

But even with the rejection, Jinwoo found himself smiling a little.

He was still glad to have his dad back.

Now, back at the school gates, the lack of caffeine — and the sleep he never got — was catching up with him fast.

The tips of his fingers felt numb. His legs ached from standing still for too long. His head bobbed once — twice — until finally, he gave up.

He slid down against the cold concrete wall, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them.

Just for a second, he thought.

I'll close my eyes for just a second.

It was the world's shortest second.

The next thing he knew, a voice was calling his name, cutting through the haze of half-dreams.

“Jinwoo?”

He jolted upright so fast he smacked the back of his head on the wall behind him.

“—oh, ow, ow, ow—" he hissed under his breath.

You stood a few feet away, blinking down at him, your school bag slung over one shoulder, your hair tousled slightly from the cold wind.

There was a mixture of confusion and concern written all over your face.

He scrambled to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his pants, trying (and failing) to pretend he hadn’t just been sleeping like a hobo outside the school.

“Oh, hey!” he blurted, a little too loud. “Morning, (y/n)!”

You tilted your head. “What are you doing here so early?”

He opened his mouth, mind blank.

He couldn't just say 'waiting for you' — that would be weird, right?

So instead, he deflected as smoothly as possible:

“What are you doing here this early?”

You gave him a look that was halfway between amused and suspicious.

“I always get in early. You’re the one who's weird today.”

He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well... guess I couldn’t sleep.”

You narrowed your eyes, clearly not buying it, but didn’t push.

Instead, your gaze softened a little, your hands tightening around the straps of your bag to keep them warm.

“You’re gonna freeze to death if you keep waiting out here,” you said.

Jinwoo shrugged, pretending he wasn’t still half-asleep and lowkey freezing solid.

“It’s not that cold.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Your teeth are literally chattering.”

He clamped his mouth shut immediately, but the rattling didn’t stop.

You laughed — bright and unexpected — and Jinwoo felt something warm and embarrassing blossom in his chest, like he had just been handed a trophy he didn’t deserve.

Maybe waiting in the cold like an idiot wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"Geez, you're impossible," you say, reaching out without thinking to tug on the sleeve of his uniform jacket. "C'mon, before you turn into an ice cube."

He lets himself be pulled, a little stunned by the casual way you just—grabbed him. Like it was normal. Like he was normal. Like he wasn't the strongest human alive.

The small smile curling onto his lips is hidden as he ducks his head and hurries after you.

"You know," you continue as you lead him through the front gates, "if you were gonna camp out here like a weirdo you could've at least brought snacks. Or, like, a heater. Or a second coat. Or... I don't know, your brain?"

"Thanks," Jinwoo deadpans. "I'll remember to bring snacks next time."

You snicker at that, and it makes his chest feel lighter somehow, the way you laugh like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He shoves his hands into his pockets as you both make your way toward the main building, his steps slowing slightly.

"I wasn’t... camping," he mutters defensively. "I was waiting."

"For who? Santa Claus?" you tease.

He glances sideways at you, your cheeky grin practically daring him to admit it.

"You," he says under his breath, like it’s a secret too fragile for the cold morning air.

"Huh?" You blink at him.

"I said, uh—" Jinwoo flails mentally for an escape— "for the... morning announcements. Very important stuff. Top secret."

You laugh again, bumping your shoulder lightly against his. "Right. Top secret business standing in the freezing cold at seven in the morning."

"I take my responsibilities seriously," he says, straight-faced.

"Oh, clearly. How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

"Maybe like... three?" He shrugs, trying not to sound too proud of that number.

You gasp dramatically. "Three?! No wonder you look like you just got mugged by a coffee machine."

At that, Jinwoo almost trips over his own feet from laughing. "You're the worst," he says, but there's absolutely no heat behind it.

"You're welcome," you say brightly. Then, as you reach the doors, you yank them open and march inside, dragging him with you. "Now, get inside before your soul leaves your body."

He follows, a bit dazed, warmed more by your hand on his jacket sleeve than by the heating blasting from the school vents.

As you both shed your coats and stomp the cold out of your shoes, he can't help but sneak a glance at you, cheeks still a little pink from the cold, hair a little messy from the wind.

He thinks, Yeah. Totally worth it.

Even if he did almost turn into a human ice sculpture.

The two of you walk through the now mostly empty hallways, your footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floor. The building smells faintly like cleaning supplies and old books — something strangely comforting about it.

Jinwoo shoves his hands back into his pockets, keeping pace with you easily. It’s still so early that barely anyone else is around; the school feels almost abandoned. Peaceful.

"So," he says, kicking lightly at a tile as you turn the corner together, "why do you even get here this early, anyway?"

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why, you planning on stealing my morning routine or something?"

"Maybe," he says, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "If it comes with a free heater. You seem immune to the cold."

"I have layers," you say proudly, tugging at the sweater peeking out from under your uniform blazer. "Unlike some idiots who think a paper-thin jacket is enough in December."

"Hey, I thought I had coffee to keep me warm," Jinwoo argues. "But someone confiscated it."

"You’re fifteen, Jinwoo," you say in mock horror. "You’re not allowed to turn into a tired old man yet."

He pretends to look wounded. "Wow. Ageism. Wasn't expecting that from you."

You laugh, bumping him lightly with your shoulder again. It’s easy, being next to him like this. Easy in a way you hadn’t realized you missed until now.

Jinwoo watches you for a second out of the corner of his eye, then, emboldened by your easygoing mood, asks, "But really. Why so early? Doesn’t seem like you need it—you don’t even look like you study that much."

You snort. "That’s because I don’t study that much."

He stares at you, scandalized. "You mean to tell me you’re good at school and you don’t even try?"

"Natural-born genius," you say, flipping your hair dramatically.

Jinwoo makes a fake gagging noise, and you laugh so hard you almost trip over your own feet. He instinctively reaches out to steady you by the arm, and for a second, the two of you just... stand there, a little closer than before, your laughter tapering off into something softer.

You recover first, pulling away lightly and pretending not to notice how his ears are turning red again — this time, definitely not from the cold.

"I just like being here early," you say, more quietly now. "When it's still quiet. When I can just... breathe for a bit before everyone else shows up."

Jinwoo hums, thoughtful. He understands that feeling more than he can put into words.

"Well," he says, trying to sound casual, "guess you’ll have company now."

You glance at him, something warm and a little shy flickering across your face.

"Guess I will."

You both lapse into silence, footsteps echoing softly down the empty corridors. It's almost surreal how peaceful the school feels at this hour—an illusion of tranquility neither of you fully trusts, yet quietly treasures. You come to a natural stop near a window overlooking the courtyard, washed pale by the morning sun.

Neither speaks at first, just breathing in the silence until Jinwoo finally breaks it, his voice measured and quiet, layered with contemplation.

"If you had the chance," he begins carefully, eyes trained outward as though the answer he's looking for is hidden somewhere beyond the glass, "to forget everything. To just wake up here, like everyone else—no memories, no baggage—would you take it?"

The question hangs in the quiet space between you, heavy yet strangely gentle.

You pause thoughtfully, considering not just his words, but the weight they carry. It’s not a new question—you’ve asked it to yourself in darker moments, in the rare pauses between responsibilities. But it’s different hearing it out loud, especially from Jinwoo.

Finally, you reply slowly, deliberately, like weighing the terms of an important contract.

"Sometimes, I think it would be easier," you admit softly. "To wake up with no memories of any of it. To not have to carry all the fear, the pain, the weight of watching people fail and worlds end."

Jinwoo’s gaze flickers toward you, quiet, waiting.

You shift, your tone steadying as your business-like calm asserts itself, bringing clarity rather than coldness. "But then I realize... without those memories, without that knowledge, I wouldn't be who I am now. And truthfully, I'm not sure I'd want to give that up. Painful as it is, all of those experiences—every failure, every loss—they made me someone capable of facing whatever comes next without panicking, without hesitation."

His eyes soften thoughtfully, brows slightly knit as he absorbs your words. "You don't feel... broken by it?"

You tilt your head, a faint, self-aware smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Maybe I was, at first. But somewhere along the line, I learned how to separate the pain from the purpose. You don't build anything valuable without a few cracks along the way. The trick isn't avoiding damage; it's knowing how to rebuild stronger each time."

A quiet moment passes as Jinwoo processes that, his gaze returning outside with a new intensity. "That’s admirable," he murmurs quietly. "The way you make sense of it all."

You let out a small laugh, gentle but sincere. "Not always. But clarity helps. Understanding what you can control, accepting what you can't. It lets you sleep at night."

He nods slightly, his voice quieter now, softer. "I haven't quite figured out how to do that yet."

"You will," you say, quietly confident. "You already have, more than you realize. You faced everything head-on when most would run. It might not feel clear yet, but it's all there."

He looks at you then, a lingering gaze filled with quiet gratitude. The silence feels comfortable now, warmer than before, as if both of you had silently agreed to let the conversation rest there—at least for today.

The distant murmur of arriving students drifts down the hallway, gentle yet unmistakable, signaling that your time alone has reached its end. The bell rings softly a moment later, punctual yet unhurried, pulling you both back to reality.

"Back to playing pretend," Jinwoo sighs lightly, though there’s a hint of a resigned smile in his eyes.

You nod, adjusting your bag with calm determination. "Only for a little while longer."

Together, you step into the now bustling classroom, Jinwoo slipping naturally into his seat two rows ahead of you.

The school day passes in a haze of ordinary moments and quiet exchanges. When the final bell finally rings, you glance up to see Jinwoo waiting by the door, casual and patient as always, bag slung over one shoulder. He doesn't speak, just lifts his chin slightly—a silent, easy invitation that, weirdly, says "Let's go."

You fall into step beside him easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Outside, the air is crisp and biting, the kind of cold that makes your breath fog up in the air. You fold your arms into yourself, lightly shivering as you walk.

Jinwoo, on the other hand, looks like he’s about to freeze solid. His jacket is thin, barely enough for winter, and it’s not doing him any favors now. You glance at him, and the slight hunch in his posture makes it clear he’s not doing too well with the chill.

“Seriously, you should bring a warmer jacket tomorrow.” You say, eyebrows raised.

He shrugs, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “I don’t need it. I’m fine.”

“Sure,” you answer with a smirk, “If by ‘fine,’ you mean freezing.”

He mutters something unintelligible, refusing to look directly at you. “I'm not that cold.”

You snort lightly, a playful smile pulling at your lips. “Right. Keep telling yourself that.”

He shivers slightly, though he tries to hide it by shifting his shoulders. You sigh, amused but sympathetic.

“You know,” you offer, a little gentler, “I could lend you my scarf. You’d look good in it.”

He lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t even acknowledge your suggestion. “Please. I’m not wrapping myself up like a burrito.”

The walk home should’ve been fifteen minutes, tops. But you both somehow end up taking the longer route, cutting through side streets and weaving between narrow alleys that Jinwoo insists are shortcuts (they’re not).

"Left or right?" he asks at one point, standing at a fork in the road like a game show host.

"Which one’s faster?"

He shrugs. "Which one looks cooler?"

You squint. The right path has a bunch of neat houses and trimmed hedges. The left is a shady side road with crooked trees and a broken streetlamp flickering like it’s about to die.

“Left,” you decide instantly.

“Excellent choice,” Jinwoo nods. “Definitely not cursed.”

You laugh, and somehow that left turn feels like a small rebellion.

Halfway down the crooked street, an unexpected sight catches your eye: a dusty, hidden-away comic book shop squeezed between two tall buildings. Faded posters fill the window, and the neon “OPEN” sign flickers weakly.

Jinwoo stops and squints, eyebrows raised. "Do those even still exist? Are we in the 90s?"

The window displays old volumes of comic books—some you’ve never seen before, others you’ve only heard about in passing. The whole shop seems like a time capsule, stuck somewhere between childhood and nostalgia.

Curiosity piqued, you step closer, peering through the window at the nostalgic display. “Wanna check it out?”

He hesitates, but then shrugs. "Why not? If I’m going to freeze to death, I might as well do it somewhere cursed."

The bell above the door jingles as you both step inside, the air thick with the musty smell of old paper. The interior is cramped, with stacks of comics piled high, some leaning precariously against each other. The whole place feels like it’s stuck in time.

The guy behind the counter, a middle-aged man with glasses and a slight beard, looks up as you both enter. He quirked an eyebrow at you, clearly confused by the sight of two teenagers in this dusty corner of the world.

"Uh..." He clears his throat. "You kids... into comics?"

You exchange a glance with Jinwoo, both of you fighting the urge to laugh. The guy looks like he hasn’t seen anyone your age walk through that door in years.

The shopkeeper shrugs, clearly unsure whether you're serious, but leaves you to explore anyway. Jinwoo quickly picks up an old Spider-Man issue, flipping through pages with visible amusement.

“Never pegged you for a comic fan,” you tease gently.

He smirks lightly, eyes glinting mischievously. “Hey, hunting’s not my only passion.”

You roll your eyes fondly, smiling despite yourself. You spend the next several minutes comfortably bantering, lost in the comics until finally Jinwoo purchases an old X-Men issue, muttering about the cold walk being worth it.

“You’re officially a nerd,” you declare as you step back onto the street.

“Careful,” he shoots back, grinning, “or next week I won’t save you from the bad guys.”

You laugh again, nudging him lightly. “You’d make the worst superhero ever.”

“The best,” he corrects, clearly amused.

The teasing dies down slowly, replaced by a quieter comfort. Your gaze slips sideways toward Jinwoo, watching him closely. Before you can stop yourself, you say softly, honestly:

“You know, you already are a hero to me.”

He freezes for a second, his heart giving an unexpected flip. The words stir something in him—warm, unsettling. He can’t help but picture everything that’s waiting for him to finish, the battles ahead. His mouth feels dry.

Hero. The word is both too big and too small.

"I’m not a hero," he says, quieter than usual. "Not until this is all over."

You glance at him, confused. He doesn’t say more, just keeps walking, his shoulders tense, like he’s fighting something inside. You’re left with the echo of your words hanging between you both, and it feels... off.

"Over?" you repeat under your breath, but he doesn’t respond. The silence presses against you.

You think about the words as you walk. 

It’s not over? 

The more you think about it, the more it twists in your chest. Your thoughts run in circles—what did he mean by that? Is he really okay with this? With not being your hero, not yet?

"Jinwoo..." You hesitate, but you can’t let it go. "Do you mean... that things are going to go back to the way they were? That the gates will open again? Everything... Is it all going to come crashing down?"

The question hangs in the air between you, fragile and heavy. You already know the danger always lingers, waits. And you can't help but feel the fear bubbling up again, like a shadow you can't escape. 

The nightmare isn’t over?

Jinwoo doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t need to. You can see it in his eyes—the quiet way he’s always thinking, always prepared for what’s to come. But this time, when he finally speaks, it’s different.

His voice is firm, though still quieter than usual. "It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it." There’s an unspoken promise in his tone, a weight to his words that you can feel deep in your bones.

You stop walking for a moment, looking at him, searching his face for any signs of doubt, but there’s nothing there. He looks calm, resolute, almost... detached from the fear that’s tightening around your chest. His eyes, always so serious, seem softer now. It’s like he’s trying to give you something—some reassurance, even if it doesn’t feel like much.

He stops after you, his gaze turning away as if he's collecting his thoughts. Then he speaks, his voice steady, almost to himself at first. "I’ve defeated them once. I’ll do it again." There’s a quiet strength in his words, a reminder of everything he’s already survived, everything he’s already overcome. "I’ve trained, I’m stronger now. And I’ve got something to protect."

He turns to look at you then, and for a split second, his eyes soften—just a hint of something you can't quite place. It's a look that makes your chest tighten, like he's letting you see just a little piece of the weight he carries, but also the purpose behind it. 

You don’t know what to make of it, but you can feel the gravity of it, the unspoken promise.

"I won’t let anything happen," he continues, quieter now, more personal. "Not while I’m still standing."

For a moment, you feel the weight of his words settle in, the reassurance that the nightmare you fear won’t return. 

"I’m not going anywhere yet," he adds, his voice lighter now. "I still have time. I’ve decided to stay for a couple of months—until the start of summer. After that, I’ll go. But for now, I’m staying.

He cracks a small, genuine smile. "And I think I can afford that, for once."

You take a step closer, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. There's a part of you that wants to believe him, to trust that the quiet will hold. But you can’t help but wonder—how much longer can he carry this alone? 

He’s never asked for help, never shown the cracks that must be there, but you can see them now. The weight of all the battles, the sacrifices, the constant fight to protect the world, to make sure it doesn’t slip through his fingers.

You wonder if he's tired—if the constant need to fight and protect has worn him down more than he lets on. Even now, standing beside you, he's carrying so much more than anyone realizes. He’s always been the silent warrior, the one who never asks for rest, never speaks of the toll it takes. But you can see it in the way his shoulders slump just a little, in the quiet flicker of doubt in his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching.

You don’t say anything. In your silence, he tilts his head back, looking up at the stars, his face unreadable, but you can see the exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders. The warrior who’s always carried the weight of the world is finally, if only for a moment, letting go.

It’s as if he’s giving himself permission to rest, to breathe, to exist outside of the fight. And for a fleeting moment, he’s not Hunter Sung—the one who has to save everyone. He’s just a person, standing there under the night sky, exhausted, yet finding something worth holding onto. The weight of responsibility seems to lift just a little, and in its place, there’s a quiet peace.

For the first time, you wonder if he could allow himself more of that peace—simple things, like laughing with classmates, not having to always be the one who saves everyone. He should be allowed to go to school, get scolded for being late, and not carry the burden of the world on his shoulders. 

It seems so foreign, but maybe it's exactly what he needs. The world’s been heavy on him for so long, and pretending that he has nothing else to worry about—even if just for a little while—might be more of a relief than he knows. 

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

You resume the stride, and the two of you continue walking, side by side, the quiet stretching between you but no longer feeling heavy. It’s different now—more comfortable, almost peaceful. It’s a small, shared moment, the kind of silence that used to feel awkward but now feels like an easy rhythm between two people who understand the weight of the world in different ways. You begin to wonder if this—this simple, quiet peace—could be your new normal. Maybe, just maybe, this calm before the storm is all either of you can ask for, and that’s enough.

By the time you reach your street, the sun has already gone, and Jinwoo stretches his arms overhead, yawning like a cat. "I think we walked enough to count as cardio today," he says.

"I think we got lost five times."

He shrugs. "Worth it."

You glance over at him, and for a moment, you catch something unexpected. He looks... happy. Not the guarded Jinwoo you usually see, but a boy your age, smiling at nothing in particular, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets as he kicks a stray pebble down the sidewalk.

And in that moment, it hits you: this feels normal. It feels so easy—like something neither of you ever thought you could have again. Something simple and warm, like middle school was supposed to feel before all the chaos. You smile without even realizing it.

The evening air grows quieter, the world around you slowing down, and for a moment, you both just stand there, caught in the simplicity of it all. It’s strange, this little piece of normalcy. It almost feels like the world has given you both permission to breathe.

You break the silence with a small smile, looking over at him. "Thanks for walking with me."

"No problem," he replies, shifting his weight slightly. "It was... fun."

You both stand there for another moment, your gaze meeting his. His expression softens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels warmer than it should. You can’t put your finger on it, but the quiet of the moment lingers longer than expected.

A cold breeze sweeps through, breaking the stillness and sending a chill through the air. Jinwoo comes out of his trance, as if the shift in the atmosphere has nudged him toward the end of this moment.

"Well, I’ll leave you to it," he says, his voice easy and relaxed, as if the breeze itself made the decision for him. "See you tomorrow."

You watch as he turns to leave, his footsteps soft against the pavement, growing fainter with each step. His figure grows smaller in the distance, but the pressure in your chest stays, heavy with all the words you didn’t say.

“Jinwoo!” you call out, louder than you meant to. He stops and glances back, eyes meeting yours. “I think you’ve earned a break…,” you say, breathless.

The words hang awkwardly in the air, and heat rushes to your cheeks. But then Jinwoo smiles—genuine and bright—and something tight in your chest loosens.

He turns away again, and this time your heart pounds for a different reason.

The day had been quiet, simple even, but full in a way that catches you off guard. The memory of him asleep by the entrance, clearly waiting for you, pulls another smile from you. He’d claimed he couldn’t sleep last night, but the look on his face had said something else entirely.

You laugh under your breath, shaking your head. “What a terrible excuse,” you murmur, but even that feels strangely comforting.

You realize that something inside you has shifted—something soft, warm. Maybe it’s the way he looked at you today, or how comfortable it was, or the way everything about this moment felt just... right. You can’t quite name it, but you know it’s there, growing with each passing second.

You shake it off, but the feeling refuses to let go. There's no denying the warmth inside you as you turn to head inside.

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[dancinginthespirit]

“I hate school I’m sorry Malala”- Funny yet poignant. Acknowledges both the difficulty of the task and the fact that doing that task is a privilege. Gives credit to the people who fought for that privilege with a tongue in cheek acknowledgement of the irony of the initial statement

“I’m just a girl I should be home baking bread not doing calculus” - at best historically uninformed at worst leaps decades back in time. Refusal to acknowledge the charged history of education and slights the centuries of women’s labor it took to reach this point

[dancinginthespirit]

GOM + Kagami with an s/o who is taller then them

I write with y/n (for your name)// GIF is not mine

Tetsuya Kuroko

Since his team is all very large, it wouldn't be a problem. He's used to it. On the contrary, since he isn't the biggest himself, he often asks you if you can give him something from the shelf. Just like he does with Kagami. This would take away the insecurity you sometimes have about your size. On bad days, he would tell you that you look like a majestic goddess and that this is something special. Kuroko would also suggest you play basketball with him sometime if he hasn't already done so. With this he would want to show you in his own way that your size is something positive. For these wordless attempts to make you feel good about yourself, you love Tesuya.

Taiga Kagami

Kagami would be really impressed to have found someone taller than him. He himself is exceptionally tall, standing at 1.90m. The two of you would often jokingly argue about whether the 4cm that you are taller even count. According to Taiga, you wouldn't be able to tell visually that you're taller. I would definitely encourage you to play basketball. A) because he thinks it might suit you and B) because he can then practice with you against bigger opponents. Literally dies when you see your long legs in high heels. Like for real, he is blushing madly. So don't wear them too often!

Ryouta Kise

Since Ryouta is a model, he would be used to having tall (and especially beautiful) people around him, you would be no exception. What he would always tell you to calm you down. However, Ryouta would always drag you along to his shoots because he thinks the clothes would look amazing on you. Like the one time you accompanied him. Actually, you just stood there to watch. But then Ryouta came out of the dressing room very excited with the stylist. A long, blue dress with sequins and tulle doesn't fit any of the models. So ahtty Ryouta suggested you without further ado. He said thanks to your size it wouldn't stand up on the floor and would fit perfectly.

Daiki Aomine

One senses slight ego problems…the only one who could beat him, in terms of hight, were…well, you. This fact would give your ego a few small scratches. Especially if he said something stupid to you…bringing up the fact that you're taller than him would always get him to shut up. Like Taiga, he loves his legs in high heels, only with Daiki it has a different effect. Since you are lokking so gorgeous, he would instinctively steer any guy he could potentially flirt with away from you. And on the other hand…he would be glued to you, touching you whenever he could. If your dress had a leg slit…you bet he would slide his hand down your leg, under the dress. Such a horny man lmao.

Akashi Seijuro

He is a born gentleman. He wouldn't mind and if he did, he definitely wouldn't let you know. For him you would be perfect just the way you are. And he would tell you that again and again. I think on occasions like a gathering of the Akashi family with important corporate clients or something similar, he could ask you not to wear highest heels. In this environment he wants to be strong and dominate. Since you can understand that, you don't wear high heels. You're already taller than him. Akashi would honestly find your size very practical in everyday life. Whenever he couldn't get something and you handed it to him without a word, he would blush gently. But god forbid you would ever see that. You had that effect on him, even if you rarely would get to it. With you he would lose his composure.

Shintaro Midorima

Would ask the oracle when and under which star constellation you were born. Only to find out that it's almost the same as his. Which would explain a lot for Shintaro…he's tall, so you are too. Would secretly love that his large sweaters fit you almost right. Especially if you decide to wear them to school. Would put him straight into a coma. Especially when the boys ask if that isn't his sweater you're wearing. (Side note: Daiki would be so jealous of you and Shintaro). His mother would be happy that you were a similar size because Midorima doesn't seem so huge anymore. She would always tell you what a great couple you are.

Atsushi Murasakibara

Honestly…how? He's a goddamn giant himself…And that's exactly why he'd love it. With you he doesn't have to be careful and doesn't have to be afraid of crushing you. Since he is very lazy, he would also be happy that he doesn't have to move too much to kiss you since you are at eye level. He would love being able to be the little spoon while cuddling. Nuzzeling his face in the crock of your neck, as the slight vanilla smell of your hair would pass him by. He loved the vanilla shampoo and at that moment one of his rare laughs would appear on his lips. After all, you would be his tall, cute and lovely snack.

[dancinginthespirit]

GOM + Kagami: S/o wants to learn basketball

Summary: Basically cute chaos on the court <3

Authors Note: Not proofread// Gifs are not mine// y/n= your name

Genre: Fluff, Chaos and lots of teasing

Aomine Daiki

It all started as a joke.

“I could totally learn basketball,” you said one afternoon while watching a game with Aomine.

He smirked, tossing popcorn into his mouth. “You? On the court?”

You gave him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said lazily. “Just... you trip over air.”

You threw a pillow at him. “Shut up!”

But the next afternoon, you showed up at the local court in sneakers, shorts, and a determined scowl. “Teach me,” you said, spinning a ball on your finger—and failing, miserably. It fell and bounced away like a taunt.

Aomine blinked. Then grinned. “You serious?”

“Dead serious.”, you said. He stretched, standing up with a yawn. “Alright. But don’t cry when I school you.”

“Just try not to cry when I actually score on you.”

That earned you a deep chuckle. “Sure, princess.”

—

It started off innocent. Dribbling drills. Footwork. You tripped once—okay, twice—but you got better. His hands brushed yours when correcting your grip. His voice dipped low whenever he leaned in to explain something. “Keep your knees loose,” he said, coming up behind you. His hands lightly guided your stance. “Like this. You’re too stiff.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re too smug.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m right.”

You shot. It hit the rim and bounced off.

“Close,” he said, catching it with one hand. “But not good enough.”

You glared at him. “Again.”

This time, when you shot, he stepped in and blocked it. You gasped. “You jerk!” He grinned. “What? You said you wanted to learn. That includes rejection.”

You chased him around the court, smacking his arm while he laughed like a kid at recess. “You’re the worst teacher ever!”

“Nah,” he said, easily holding the ball above your head. “Best teacher. Just a realistic one.” Then—without warning—he leaned in.

Not quite a kiss. Just close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re trying,” he murmured, voice dropping to that smooth, teasing tone that made your knees a little less loose.

You swallowed. “Is this part of the lesson?”

“Depends,” he said, spinning the ball once before flicking it toward the basket. Swish. “You learn better when you’re flustered?”

You tried to hit him again, laughing this time. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” he said, that familiar smirk back on his lips as he tossed you the ball. “You just hate that I’m good at everything.”

You held the ball, heart still racing. “Bet you can’t teach me how to beat you.”

Aomine’s eyes sparkled. “Oh yeah?”

“One-on-one. Tomorrow. No mercy.”

He leaned in again, this time brushing a kiss to your temple before whispering, “Looking forward to it.”

Kise Ryouta

You barely finished the sentence before Ryouta lit up like a golden retriever being offered his favourite treat.

"You want me to teach you basketball?!" he gasped, hands clutching his chest like you'd just proposed marriage. “____-cchi! I'm honored!” You laughed, slipping on your sneakers as he bounced around the court like a kid on caffeine. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He pouted. “This is serious! You’re willingly entering my domain! That’s romantic!”

“It’s not romantic.”

“Yes it is.” His eyes sparkled. “It’s a total romcom set-up. Beautiful girl gets private lessons from the handsome ace player, sparks fly, they fall in love—” You raised a brow. “We already are dating.”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “We’re halfway through the movie. This is the training montage part!” You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Alright, coach. Impress me.”

He cleared his throat, switching to Serious Athlete Mode™. “First—dribbling. You’ve gotta stay low and keep control.”

He demonstrated, of course with unnecessary flair—one-handed, then behind the back, then spinning it casually on a finger while winking at you. You deadpan stared. “Yeah, that’s definitely beginner level.”

Ryouta laughed, then came closer, gently placing the ball in your hands. “Okay, okay. For real this time. Just bounce it low, like this.” He guided your hands, standing behind you, practically melting against your back with his arms around yours. He smelled like cologne and sunshine.

“You’re very close,” you said.

“Just helping,” he said, voice low and way too pleased with himself. “It’s called hands-on learning.” You elbowed him gently. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I’m the luckiest,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Okay, now try shooting!” You took the shot—it missed entirely. Clunked off the side of the rim and bounced off the court.

Ryouta blinked, then started clapping dramatically. “We have liftoff!”

“Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not! I’m encouraging you, ____-cchi!” he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “So proud of your journey.”

You grabbed another ball and threw it at him. He dodged with a laugh, arms wide.

"Hey, hey! Violence won’t help your form!"

“You won’t help your face if you keep teasing me.”

Ryouta jogged over, took your hand, and looked at you like you were the most precious thing on the court. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious now. I just—” he shrugged sheepishly, “—I really love being out here with you.”

You blinked. Your heart did that stupid flutter thing.

“…I’m bad at this,” you muttered.

“You’re learning. And honestly…” He spun the ball on his finger and grinned, “you look adorable doing it.” You groaned. “That’s not helping.”

“It’s helping me,” he said, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Can we do this every weekend?”

You smiled, leaning back against him.

“Only if you stop acting like this is an anime opening.”

He gasped. “How dare—! This is an anime opening. And I’m the handsome male lead who falls hopelessly in love with the cute girl who can’t dribble!”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m switching sports.”

Ryouta grinned and kissed your cheek again. “Fine, but I’m following you to whatever sport you pick. Deal?”

“…Deal.”

Kuroko Tetsuya

You should’ve known Kuroko would take this seriously.When you casually mentioned, “Hey, I think I wanna learn basketball,” he blinked at you once, nodded… and showed up the next day with a handwritten workout schedule, color-coded tabs, and personalized notes.

“Tetsuya,” you blinked at the binder he handed you. “This is... more organized than my entire life.”

“I want you to improve efficiently,” he said simply, like it was obvious. “Also, I included water breaks.”

You flipped through it, a mix of touched and slightly overwhelmed. There were even little encouragements in the margins: “Keep your knees bent, not your spirit!” “You’re doing better than yesterday.” “Don’t forget to stretch your smile, too.”

You glanced at him. “Did you write motivational quotes for me?”

He looked away, ever so slightly pink. “I thought they might help.” You smiled so hard it hurt.

—

The court was mostly empty that afternoon, with just the two of you and the echo of bouncing balls. Kuroko started you off with basics—dribbling drills, some footwork, and soft passes that somehow always landed exactly where you could catch them. He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy. But he was incredibly good at guiding you. Every correction was gentle, every compliment honest and understated.

“You’re improving,” he said as you finally managed to dribble down the court without fumbling. “Your hands are learning.”

“My hands are dumb,” you muttered, wiping your forehead.

He handed you a water bottle without missing a beat. “They’re not dumb. They’re just inexperienced. Like your jokes.”

You stared. “Did you just sass me?” He blinked innocently. “No.”

“…You totally did.”

The corners of his lips tugged up ever so slightly. His version of a full-on laugh. You stuck your tongue out at him before returning to the drills. Later, when you missed a shot for the sixth time in a row, you groaned dramatically and collapsed onto the court. “I am a disgrace to the sport,” you moaned.

“You are not,” he said, stepping beside you and offering his hand. “You just need more practice. And maybe to lift the ball with your arms, not your hopes.”

You gasped. “Okay, that was sass.” He tilted his head. “Constructive sass.”

You let him pull you to your feet, still laughing, your fingers slipping against his for a moment longer than necessary. “Thanks for taking the time to do this,” you said quietly. “Even if I suck.”

He looked at you with that steady, unshakable gaze of his. “You don’t suck. And even if you did, I’d still enjoy this.”

“…Why?”

“Because you’re you,” he said, so simply that your heart actually stumbled in your chest.

You bit your lip, stepping a little closer. “Well, since you’ve been such a good coach today…” He raised an eyebrow, curious. You leaned up and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek. Kuroko blinked. Then stood still for a full two seconds, processing.

“…Thank you,” he said finally, a faint red dusting his ears. “I’d like to receive more rewards like this in future sessions.” You grinned. “Only if you keep the motivational quotes coming.”

He nodded seriously. “I’ll prepare a new batch for next time.”

You laughed, tucking yourself under his arm as he handed you your water bottle again, the sun beginning to dip behind the court. Private lessons with Kuroko might not be flashy. But they were perfectly you.

Taiga Kagami

It all started when you wandered into the gym after his evening practice, sneakers in hand and a hopeful look on your face.

"Hey, Kagami," you called. He turned from the hoop, sweat dampening his tank top and forehead, ball tucked under one arm. “Yo. What’s up?”

You grinned. “I wanna learn basketball. Teach me?” He blinked. “You? You wanna play basketball?”

���Why does everyone say that?” you groaned. Kagami rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly flustered. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! I just—uh, I mean—yeah! I can teach you! Totally.” You snorted. “That was the smoothest sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“Shut up and stretch before you pull something.”

—

You expected drills. What you didn’t expect was for Kagami to go full-on coach mode — minus the yelling.

“Okay, first—stance. Feet shoulder-width apart.”

You mimicked him, a little stiff. “No, no—looser.” He stepped behind you, hesitated, then placed his hands on your hips to gently adjust your stance. “Like this.” You froze. His hands were big. Warm. Very there.

“Better,” he muttered, stepping back quickly, ears glowing red. You turned your head and smirked. “Aw, Taiga, are you blushing?”

“I’m not—”

“You totally are.”

“Shut up and dribble!”

—

You were bad at it. Like… really bad. But Kagami was weirdly patient, correcting your hand placement, gently swatting the ball back when it rolled away, and smiling whenever you managed even a half-decent move. “You’re seriously trying,” he said, slightly breathless as he jogged to retrieve a wild shot of yours.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” he said, tossing the ball back with a grin. “It’s just… kinda cute.”

You blinked. “What is?” He shrugged. “You. Out here. Trying. Messing up. Getting mad. Sticking your tongue out when you concentrate.”

You flushed, throwing the ball at his chest—he caught it effortlessly.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Says the one who just missed five layups in a row.”

“I swear to God—” He laughed. “Kidding! You’re improving. Seriously.” You watched him smile at you like it meant something. Like you meant something. And that’s when you realized—you kind of loved this version of Kagami. Slightly awkward, but warm. Goofy, but gentle. A little clumsy with words, but so good with his actions. You stepped closer, reaching for the ball he held. Instead, you tiptoed up and kissed him on the cheek. He went still, eyes wide like you’d just dunked on him mid-game.

“That’s for being a good teacher,” you said casually, snatching the ball from his frozen hands. He touched his cheek like it was the first time anyone had ever kissed him there.

“…I think I need more private lessons,” he muttered, blinking in disbelief. You grinned. “We’ll see. Only if you don’t make me run suicides next time.”

“No promises,” he said, finally smiling again. “But I might go easier on you if I get another reward like that.” You turned away to hide your blush. “Shut up and stretch, Kagami.” He chuckled, jogging after you. And somehow, that late-night gym session felt more like a win than any buzzer-beater ever could.

Akashi Seijuro

The Akashi family ball was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, gilded, and intimidatingly formal. But you weren’t nervous — not with Seijuro at your side, hand resting lightly at the small of your back, his presence a steady, unshakeable calm. He guided you through introductions, dances, and whispered compliments like a man perfectly in control. Until you leaned up during a slow waltz and murmured in his ear: “You know… I still want that basketball lesson you promised me.”

He blinked, just once. Then he smiled — slow, knowing, a little amused. “Now?” You gave him your best innocent look. “Why not?”

His eyes flicked to the side — toward the Akashi estate’s private indoor court. Empty. Polished. Lit by soft overhead lights. You’d passed it on the way in, and now the idea of you both playing there, dressed to the nines, was suddenly deliciously ridiculous.

“You’re serious,” he said softly.

“Only if you are.”

His gaze dropped briefly — from your perfectly styled hair, to your elegant dress, to your heels — then back up, eyes gleaming with something equal parts fondness and challenge. “Very well,” he said, offering his hand once more. “Let’s make this evening more… memorable.”

—

You kicked off your heels at the edge of the court, the cool wood under your bare feet. Your dress swished around your legs as you tried to dribble the ball he handed you. Tried. It bounced off your foot with a loud thunk and rolled away. Akashi caught it with one hand.

You sighed. “I’m hopeless.” He smiled — warm, amused. “Hardly. You’re just distracted by the setting.”

You tilted your head. “And you’re not?”

“I have excellent focus,” he replied, stepping closer. “Even when someone as beautiful as you is breaking dress code and attempting a crossover in a ball gown.”

You poked his chest. “That sounded like a flirt and a scolding.”

“Why not both?”

He gently guided your hands to the proper position. His fingers lingered longer than necessary. “Bend your knees slightly,” he said, his breath warm against your temple. “Control the ball — don’t let it control you.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is, with the right teacher.” You looked up. He was very close. “You always get this smug when coaching?” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “Only when the student looks this enchanting under gym lights.” Your heartbeat kicked up.

“Seijuro…”

“Yes?”

You shot the ball just to break the tension. It missed. Badly. He caught it again, tucking it under one arm. “I think,” he said, stepping even closer until his chest was brushing yours, “this lesson may need… additional incentive.”

“Oh?” you breathed, suddenly hyper-aware of how your dress clung to you. “Like what?” He leaned down slowly, eyes locked to yours. “A reward for progress.”

Then his lips brushed yours — soft, deliberate, slow. You melted into him, arms wrapping around his neck as the ball dropped and bounced away. He caught your waist like he never wanted to let go. When you finally pulled back, breathless, you laughed. “I think I’ll be requesting private lessons more often.”

Akashi smirked, brushing your hair from your face with court-level precision. “Then I’ll make sure every lesson ends in victory… for both of us.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

"Ne~, ___-chin… you're serious?" Atsushi blinked slowly at you from his place on the gym floor, lying flat on his back like a bored cat in the sun. An open bag of strawberry Pocky rested on his chest, one stick hanging out of his mouth. You nodded firmly, bouncing a basketball between your hands. “I want to learn. You’re the best player I know.”

He sighed dramatically, like you’d asked him to run a marathon in the rain. “But it’s sooo annoying to teach stuff... and my arms feel sleepy.”

You walked up and squatted beside him, poking his cheek. “You can dunk without trying and block shots like you're swatting flies. If anyone can make me look good on the court, it's you.” He squinted one eye open at you, then closed it again. “Mmm... flattery’s kinda working.”

You smiled. “I'll give you snacks after.” That did it. He sat up immediately, looming over you with his ridiculous height, the Pocky still dangling from his lips.

“…Fine. But only if you’re fun to coach, okay?”

You stood up, grinning. “Deal.”

—

Lesson One: Dribbling: It went as expected. “Your hands are too stiff,” he mumbled, chewing lazily on another Pocky as he watched you fumble the ball. “You look like you're swatting a bug.”

You glared. “You could actually help instead of commentating like a snacking grandma.”

“Mmm… maybe.” He lumbered over and reached down to gently adjust your grip. His fingers dwarfed yours — warm, slow, surprisingly careful. “Like this,” he said, pressing your hands into the right position. “Let the ball bounce, not your brain.”

You snorted. “What kind of advice is that?” He shrugged. “It made sense in my head.”

—

Lesson Two: Shooting: It involved him standing behind you and lifting your elbows gently like you were a human crane game. You shifted awkwardly. “Atsushi, you’re way too close.”

“Makes it easier to help,” he mumbled, head resting against yours as he leaned down. “Plus, you smell good.” Your face lit up like a traffic light. “You’re not supposed to say that in the middle of a lesson!”

He smirked lazily. “You said this was a private lesson.” You groaned, threw the ball up — and to your shock, it actually went in.Murasakibara blinked. “Whoa. You made it.”

“Did you just sound proud of me?”

“No. I just didn’t think you’d get that lucky.” He smirked. “Maybe I am a good teacher.” You turned and flicked him in the forehead. He pouted.

After a few more shots (some airballs, some miracle baskets), you collapsed onto the floor beside him, both of you sweaty, tired, and smiling. “That was fun,” you said, grabbing your water bottle. “Thanks for actually getting up and moving.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, lying back down. “You did good for someone tiny.” You leaned over him, grinning. “Was that… praise from Murasakibara Atsushi?” He stretched lazily, arms above his head. “Maybe. But don’t let it go to your head.”

You reached out and pecked him on the cheek, soft and quick. He paused. Then turned his head to look at you, violet eyes blinking slowly.

“…Can I get that again?”

“Only if you keep teaching me,” you said playfully. He cracked a sleepy smile. “Okay, but next time… we bring snacks first.” You laughed, curling up beside him on the gym floor, where the basketball still slowly rolled to a stop. With Atsushi, everything might move a little slower… but it was always worth the wait.

Shintaro Midorima

You should’ve expected it. You told Midorima you wanted to learn basketball — expecting maybe a casual one-on-one in the gym. Instead, you walked into the court to find a whiteboard. A clipboard. A perfectly stacked pile of printed drills. And a USB loaded with video analysis. "Shin-chan…" you blinked, stunned. "Are we training for the NBA?"

Midorima pushed up his glasses, entirely unfazed. "If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly." You approached the whiteboard, noticing hand-drawn diagrams of shooting form, angles, and—was that trigonometry?

“Did you seriously do math for me?”

"It’s geometry,” he corrected. “And yes. It improves arc precision.”

You stared. He didn’t blink. This man.

—

At first, the structure helped. Dribbling drills. Shooting angles. Footwork. But an hour in, your brain was fried and your hands ached. You missed a simple layup for the third time, the ball rolling away with a sad bounce.

“I hate this,” you groaned, collapsing to the court. Midorima adjusted his glasses again, checking the clipboard. “Your form collapsed because you didn’t pivot properly on your left foot. We can isolate that and run it again.” You flopped dramatically. “You know what I’d like to isolate? Your clipboard. Into a trash can.” He opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off by sitting up, crawling toward him on your knees with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Maybe I just need... a different kind of motivation.” His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about—?”

You leaned up slowly and tugged his tie — because yes, Midorima Shintarō came to a basketball lesson in a button-down and tie — and smirked.

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously, Sensei.” Midorima froze, ears turning pink. “I-It’s important to—t-to have structure in training!”

“And what if I do better with... hands-on instruction?”

You leaned closer, just enough for him to register how close your lips were, how your breath fanned against his skin.

“…You’re misusing the concept of kinesthetic learning,” he muttered stiffly, though his voice was suddenly rougher, his hand twitching slightly at his side. You tilted your head, fingers still playing with the knot of his tie. “So teach me your way. But if I make the next shot... you owe me something.”

He blinked. “Like what?” You grinned. “A kiss.” His face turned a brilliant shade of red.

“I—! That’s—! Completely unnecessary!”

You stepped back, grabbed the ball, and with mock ceremony, squared up like he taught you. He watched, arms crossed tightly, lips pressed into a line. You shot. It hit the rim… and went in with a clean swish. You turned around slowly, arms lifted in silent celebration. “I believe you owe me, Midorima.”

He looked like he wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole. But after a second… he walked toward you. Every step was measured, tense. And then, in the most Midorima-like act of romance ever, he placed his hands gently on your shoulders, leaned down, and kissed you — carefully, almost scientifically — but when your hand slid up to cup his jaw, something changed. His posture eased. His grip tightened. His kiss deepened.

His clipboard clattered to the ground. You pulled away, breathless and smiling. “Still think it’s unnecessary?”

He cleared his throat, glasses askew, voice low. “...I may need to revise my reward system.”

You laughed and grabbed the ball again, tossing it lazily toward the hoop. “Better start preparing your incentives, then.” As it bounced off the rim this time, Midorima caught it one-handed and looked at you — and for once, there was a smirk behind that serious face.

“…You’ll miss on purpose next time, won’t you?”

“Maybe,” you teased. “But I think you’d like that.”

He didn’t deny it.

[dancinginthespirit]

he was so fine in this fit it's actually breathtaking.

his eyes...his LIPS. oh my god...let me just say, what a man, ladies and gentlemen. my man, everybody.