#Learning to draw again is harder than I thought

[koredrawingsand]

I strongly believe every ship should have their own version of The Kiss by Gustav Klimt. This is the humble try I did for lams, I hope you like it.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.

he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.

you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.

so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.

your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...

"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."

hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.

the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.

you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333

[angelbwrry]

sex for dummies. eren j.

cw 𐙚 kissing, kissing, andddddd more kissing. eren is smart and wants to learn how to fuck, you’re a bimbo cheerleader with experience under your belt who needs help in math!

𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒: 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔

You sit in the stark, colorless classroom, feeling the weight of monotony pressing down on you. The walls are bare, devoid of any inspirational posters or artwork, and the fluorescent lights cast a harsh, uninviting glow over everything. The incessant clicking of a pen behind you riddles you with irritation, each click like a tiny hammer tapping against your skull. You try to focus on the teacher, but his bored voice drones on about the rules of precalculus, and you can't help but tune it out.

Your attention drifts to your pink ringed notebook, its cover already filled with an array of drawings, each one a testament to your boredom. You’ve always been an artist, yet you’ve never had the energy or the opportunity to truly pursue your talents. So here they stay, confined to the pages of this littered notebook. As you sketch, your mind wanders, and you lose yourself in the lines and shapes forming under your pencil.

But the tapping of the pen behind you grows louder, its continuous rhythm grating on your nerves. You try to ignore it, but it becomes impossible, each click pulling you further away from your thoughts. Frustration builds inside you, and you begin to scribble harder, pressing the pencil into the paper with more force than necessary. Suddenly, the lead snaps, breaking the fragile silence you had tried to create.

You whirl around to face the boy behind you, your eyes blazing with anger. "Tap it again and I’ll shove it down your throat," you seethe, your voice low and menacing. The boy looks at you, his eyes wide with terror, and he nods quickly, his hand frozen mid-click. Satisfied, you turn back around.

Mr. Johnson, the math teacher, stands at the front of the classroom, his voice clear as he explained yet another problem. The chalkboard was filled with equations, each symbol meticulously written to illustrate the problems.

"Alright, class," Mr. Johnson said, turning back to face the students, "let's solve this equation together. What do we need to do first?" Hands shot up across the room, but in the back corner, you sat quietly, staring at your notebook. The numbers and letters seemed to blur together, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make sense of the steps Mr. Johnson was explaining.

"We should rewrite the equation.”

Your ears perked up at the familiar raspy voice. Eren Jaeger, the typical nerd whizz kid. He always wore these rimmed glasses that seemed to be perpetually sliding down his face. You could never get a good look at his face, though, because if his head wasn’t down, his messy raven hair was in his face. He seemed like a shy, reserved nerd.

You’d only spoken to him once or twice, and each time you’d asked to borrow a pencil. Eren effortlessly broke down the problem until it was solved. You envied his brain. Mr. Johnson moved on to the next equation, and your anxiety grew as you found yourself zoning out, probably why your grades were suffering now.

You knew you needed help, but you were too embarrassed to raise your hand and admit you didn't understand. You scribbled in your pink spiraled notebook, trying to make sense of the previous examples, but the more you looked, the more confused you became.

You doodled a picture of Hello Kitty, lip mindlessly caught in your teeth.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and you quickly packed your things, hoping to escape unnoticed. But as you reached the door, Mr. Johnson called out, "Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Shit.

You froze, your heart pounding. You turned slowly and walked back to Mr. Johnson's desk, avoiding eye contact. Your anxiety spiked as you awaited what he was going to say. Would he threaten to call your parents again, threaten to get you taken off the cheer team? Or would he make you stay back for after-hour tutoring again?

"Uh, yeah sure," you stumbled out nervously, fingers pulling at the edge of your uniform skirt as you averted your eyes to him.

"I noticed you drifting off in class. In order for me to help you, I need you to want to be helped," he sighed, pulling his glasses over his tired face. "I know you're on the team and practice can be weighing with classes. I can talk to your coach—"

"No, no. That's not needed, I swear I'll do better, just please don't talk to coach," you pleaded desperately, her last words playing through your head like a broken record.

If your grades drop any lower, I'll have to suspend you.

He gave you a look; you couldn't tell what kind of look seeing as his face was always stoic. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded, folding his arms over his chest."Fine, I would suggest pairing up with someone to study over the weekend. We'll have a pop quiz come early Monday morning."

Shit, Monday. How the fuck did he expect you to cram an entire semester of math equations into your head in two damn days? You wanted to throw a fit, but you kept your composure, lips curled tightly in disdain as you nodded your head before spinning on your heels and leaving.

You walked out into the hallway, your mind racing. You needed help, and fast. Just then, you spotted Eren Jaeger, the nerdy guy from your class, at his locker.

"Hey, Eren," you called out, trying to sound as casual as possible.

He looked up, surprised to see you. "Oh, hey... Y/N, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," you said, forcing a smile. "Listen, I need a favor."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "What kind of favor?"

"I need help with math. Like, desperately," you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

"Mr. Johnson said I need to study with someone this weekend or I'm screwed. And I know you're really good at it..."

Eren sighed, closing his locker. "So, you want me to help you? Why should I? You never even talk to me unless you need something."

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I really need this, Eren. I'll do anything. I'll even pay you if that's what it takes."

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "It's not about the money, Y/N. It's about respect. You think just because you're popular, you can use people like me whenever it's convenient for you."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don't think that, I swear. I just... I don't know what else to do. Please, Eren. I'm begging you."

He sighed again, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Fine. I'll help you. But not because of the money. Because everyone deserves a second chance. Just... don't make me regret this.Take my number.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you typed your number in his phone. "Thank you, Eren. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, grabbing his backpack.

"Meet me at the library after school. And be on time."

"I will, I promise," you said, smiling genuinely for the first time that day. "Thanks again, Eren." As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would turn around after all.

Eren was going to kill you. Not only were you late for your study session, but you were also on babysitting duty. Your parents had dropped it on you at the last minute that they had to attend a dinner for your dad’s boss, seeing as he was trying to get promoted.

"Mom, Dad, I can't babysit tonight! I have a tutoring session with Eren at the library," you protested, your voice rising in frustration.

"Sweetie, this dinner is very important for your father’s career," your mom replied, barely looking up from her phone. "You can miss one study session."

"Are you serious? I can't just cancel on him last minute! And it’s not just one session, it's important," you argued, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Enough," your dad said sharply. "We provide everything you need. The least you can do is help out when we ask."

"But you never consider my feelings! You just throw money at me and think it solves everything," you shot back, your voice trembling with anger.

"Watch your tone, young lady," your dad warned, his eyes narrowing. "We expect you to handle this responsibly."

Irritation riddled your body as you watched them pull off in the BMW, leaving you with your hyper eight-year-old sister.

"Fuck," You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of your little sister's expectant eyes on you. It wasn’t just the babysitting; it was everything. The constant disregard for your time, your feelings, your life. They never seemed to care unless it was about them.

All they did was throw money at you, thinking it would make up for their absence, their coldness. They were always so distant, so wrapped up in their own world. It was like you were just an afterthought, a responsibility they had to manage rather than a person they cared about.

Deep down, you resented them for it. For always making you feel like you were second place to their careers, their social lives, their needs.

You were tired of being the one who had to pick up the pieces, who had to be responsible because they couldn’t be bothered. They never listen,you thought bitterly. They never care.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you turned around to face your little sister. Her big, innocent eyes were filled with curiosity and concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her small hand reaching out to touch yours.

You forced a smile, squeezing her hand gently. "Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, not wanting to burden her with your frustrations.

“Come on, it's time for bed."

She nodded, trusting you completely, and you led her upstairs to her room. The soft glow of her pink nightlight cast a warm, comforting light over the room. You helped her into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and tucking her in snugly.

"Why are you stressed?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's nothing, really," you reassured her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Just some grown-up stuff. You don't need to worry about it."

She looked up at you with those big, trusting eyes, and you felt a pang of guilt for not being completely honest. But you knew she was too young to understand the complexities of your feelings.

You leaned down and kissed her forehead, smoothing the covers over her small frame. "Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

She smiled sleepily, her eyes already beginning to close. "Goodnight," she murmured.

You watched her for a moment, making sure she was settled before turning off the main light and leaving the room. As you leave the room, you couldn't help but feel a mix of love and frustration. Your sister was so innocent, so unaware of the burdens you carried. But for her sake, you would carry them all.

Your phone buzzes, and you see Eren's name on the screen. You take a deep breath before answering, knowing he's probably annoyed.

"Hey," you say cautiously.

"Where are you?" Eren's voice is sharp. "I'm at the library, and you're not here."

You feel a pang of guilt. "I'm really sorry, Eren. My parents stuck me on babysitting duty last minute. I couldn't leave my little sister alone."

There's a brief silence on the other end, and you can almost feel Eren's frustration through the phone. "Can I come over?" he finally asks.

You hesitate, then offer, "Yes, please. I can even pay you extra for the trouble."

Eren is quiet for a moment, and you hold your breath. "Alright," he says eventually. "I'll be over in twenty."

"Thank you so much, Eren," you say, relief washing over you.

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, trying to sound indifferent but you can sense the concern in his voice. "See you soon."

You hang up, feeling a bit lighter. You glance at your little sister, who's fast asleep, and crack the door to her room slightly, making sure she's still peacefully resting. At least you have someone who understands and is willing to help out.

Twenty minutes later, you hear a knock on the door. You open it to find Eren standing there, looking around in awe. "Wow," he mutters, stepping inside.

“Your house is huge. It looks like a mansion. I think you could fit my house in here three times." Eren says as he steps in, his eyes widen, taking in the high ceilings and elegant decor.Man, this place is massive. He knew you lived well, but this is next level. He shakes his head slightly, trying to hide his amazement. I could probably get lost in here.

You smile sheepishly, a bit embarrassed by the size of your home. "Yeah, it is pretty big. Thanks for coming over, Eren."

Eren nods, still looking around. This is like something out of a movie. I bet she has her own bathroom too.

“No problem," he says, shaking his head as if trying to process the grandeur of your house. You can’t help but stare at him, you’ve never seen him outside of school uniform and it’s hard not to gawk at the tight red compression shirt he’s wearing. His muscles flex underneath it enticingly, your eyes catching ink under his sleeves.His long hair is pulled back and you’re in awe, he’s beautiful.He’s not wearing his glasses tonight, you wonder why,but decide not to pester him.

You notice you’re staring and pull your eyes away,”we’ll study in my room.”

Eren nods,”lead the way.”

Eren tried to fight the way his erection grew as he walked behind you, your round ass in his face. Damn, you look gorgeous. You always looked gorgeous, but like this? It's almost too much.Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, edges laid neatly. The compression shorts you wore had his mind swirling with unholy thoughts, and your shirt was short enough to see your boobs peeking out. God, control yourself, Eren. This is not the time.

And then there was your scent—a perfect mix of cinnamon and vanilla. It was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into his thoughts. You smell so good. He was pulled from his reverie as you pushed open the door to your room. It was just as luxurious as the rest of your house, pink and white themed. Cozy, with pristine tan carpet. The room smelled amazing, and Eren figured you were probably a clean freak, given how spotless everything was. This place is incredible. How do you keep it so perfect?

Eren took a moment to steady himself, trying to focus on anything other than the way you looked and smelled. Get it together, Eren. You're here to help, not to get distracted.But it was easier said than done, and he couldn't help but silently admire you, hoping you wouldn't notice the effect you had on him.

“Geez, is there anything small in this house.” Eren jokes, taking a seat on the bed.You giggle, shutting the door closed before plopping down beside him, ignoring the way your stomach churns when those green eyes look at you.

“My parents are the materialistic type, as you can see.”

He scoffs, yeah no shit.

“I figured out how you can pay me,” Eren finally speaks up, you quip an eyebrow at him.

“Teach me how to have sex,”

You nearly choke on your spit.

“W-what?”

“Like how to kiss a girl and finger her, y’know.Each time we study you’ll teach me a new thing.” He trails off, his olive skin is bright red.

You cross your arms over your shoulder,”what makes you think I’m not a virgin?”

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing,”Just the schools drama page has a photo of you folded in the back of Connie’s truck.”

You roll your eyes, God, how embarrassing.Connie was your ex, typical football player, dumber than a damn rock.You really need to pass, and Eren is really cute, you don’t mind taking his virginity. You sigh after a few minutes,”Fine.but don’t go around running your mouth about this.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He's sitting right in front of you, looking a bit unsure but eager to learn. You smile softly, wanting to make this moment as sweet and memorable as possible.

"Alright, first things first," you say gently, placing your hands on his shoulders. "It's important to relax and just be in the moment. Kissing should feel natural and comfortable." You look into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence and warmth. "Let's start with something simple. Just lean in slowly."

He mirrors your actions, leaning in slightly. You can feel his breath on your lips, and it makes your heart race a little.

"Close your eyes," you whisper, and he does. You do the same, letting the moment envelop you both. The world around you fades, and it's just the two of you, sharing this intimate space.

"Now, just a gentle touch," you instruct, your voice barely above a whisper. You press your lips softly against his, just a light, tender kiss. It's sweet and innocent, and you can feel him relax a bit. You pull back slightly, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"See? That's not so hard," you giggle, a playful smile dancing on your lips. He smiles back, looking more confident now.

"Let's try it again, but this time, add a little more pressure," you say, leaning in once more.

As your lips meet again, you guide him with gentle pressure, showing him how to move in sync with you. "Tilt your head a bit," you murmur against his lips, and he follows your lead. The kiss deepens, becoming more natural and fluid. You can feel the connection growing, the rhythm of your movements syncing perfectly.

"Perfect," you say, breaking the kiss and smiling up at him.

"You're a quick learner."

He chuckles, looking both relieved and happy. "Just remember, it's all about the connection. Feel the moment and let it guide you."

You decide to show him a bit more. "Now, let's try something a little different," you say, your voice soft and encouraging.

"When you kiss, you can also use your hands to express how you feel." You gently take his hand and place it on your waist. "See? This can make the kiss feel more intimate."

He nods, his touch tentative but growing bolder. You lean in again, this time letting your hands slide up to his neck, your fingers gently playing with the hair at the nape. The kiss is deeper now, more passionate, yet still tender. You can feel his confidence building with each moment.

"That's it," you whisper as you pull away for a breath. "You're doing amazing." He smiles, his eyes sparkling with newfound assurance.

"One last thing," you add, your tone playful. "Don't be afraid to explore a bit. Kissing can be fun and playful too."

You lean in for one more kiss, this time letting it linger a bit longer. Your lips move together in a dance, sometimes slow and sweet, other times more eager and passionate. It's a perfect blend of emotions, and you can feel the bond between you.

As you pull away, you see the sparkle in his eyes, and you know he's got it. "Thank you," he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude. You smile, feeling a warm glow inside.

"Anytime," you reply, knowing that this is just the beginning.

His face is bright red, dick pressing uncomfortably in his pants.You’d be lying if you said the heat between your legs wasn’t there.He scratches his eyebrow nervously,”we should probably get studying.”

reblogs, comments and likes are highly appreciated! bye🫧

part 2

[pomefioredove]

"your lips would look so much better on mine" with idia please,,

hhhh confident idia brainrot is taking over help.. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCHH TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

OOH A CHALLENGE FOR ME. I will do my best for you anon!

summary: "your lips would look so much better on mine" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread, a game of chicken :)

If there's anything Idia Shroud is, it's competitive.

Over months of your friendship, you've learned one sure thing about him: challenging Idia to a game is a death sentence.

It's not just that he's played just about everything; it's that if he hasn't, he'll pick it up within minutes. And he'll play to the death.

"You've got a warrior's spirit, alright," you mutter, watching him pummel your character for the thousandth time.

Idia pauses his victory lap to smirk. "Awww, mad? Gonna rage quit?"

"I won the second time!"

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face just for it to fall back into place right after.

"I let you win, okay? It was a pity round. You suck at fighting games,"

"I do not!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the scoreboard," he grins, drawing the controller closer to his chest. "Another round?"

You don't like that smug look on his face.

"Actually... I want to play something else,"

Idia groans dramatically, flopping back on his bed and lying like a corpse. "If it's that thing again..."

"It's not the thing," you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "It's new. And it's one that I'll actually win."

That seems to intrigue him. He props himself up on his elbows. "Someone's getting cocky. What're we talking about?"

"You're one to talk. I want to play chicken,"

"Chicken? What are you, five?"

You elbow him in the ribs and he makes a noise like a deflating balloon.

"Not that kind. In this version, the loser is whoever gets embarrassed first,"

Idia, still cradling his side, raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to die of cringe. Are you serious?"

"What, afraid?"

He lowers his eyes. You're playing a dangerous game now; challenging him to a test of wills is walking into the lion's den. But you're not wrong, either; it's painfully easy to embarrass him.

"Fine, if it'll make you happy... one game,"

You clap, and then turn on the bed to face him. The "game" begins, and... nothing happens.

You stare. He stares. The air is heavy with... something.

Admittedly, you hadn't really thought this far ahead. Now you're confronted with the reality of actually having to do something, and...

Finally, Idia scoffs. "You're going to have to try a little harder than making eye contact,"

"I'm thinking!" you say quickly, feeling your face warm. "I'd like to see you do better!"

"Psh," he rolls his eyes, though he seems to be caught in a similar dilemma, not actually wanting to make the first move.

"...You're so cringe. Fine, okay?"

Idia scoots closer, using his height to his advantage by actually sitting up straight for once.

You catch him glancing between you and the shelves behind you. He leans in, his breath grazing against your neck. And his voice drops to a whisper.

"Your lips would look so much better on mine,"

You fall backwards, though you're not really sure why.

"Dude!" you sputter, struggling for words. "That was your opener?!"

Idia blinks, looming over you, taking his time revel in your reaction... and then he grins.

"You're like, the worst gamer in history. One corny sentence and you K.O.? And I'm supposed to be the shy one... you're even worse than me!" he snickers. "What would you do if I actually did kiss you? Implode?"

You groan, and sit up. "Alright, I get it, you win! Let's go back to your dumb fighting game,"

Idia stands, blocking your path with that same grin.

"No, no, I like your game way more. Let's play some more rounds- maybe I'll even let you win one,"

[avalordream]

Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up. 

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home. 

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers. 

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted. 

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in. 

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could 

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular. 

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior. 

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing. 

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life. 

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

-> Part 1.5 <- ⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary ˚₊‧ ⊹

[freelancearsonist]

hunger

➔ Lucy MacLean (Fallout) x AFAB!Reader

➔ 0.8k words

➔ You teach your best friend something new.

➔ Rated MA // oral (reader receiving), a little bit of internalized homophobia, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), two (2) okie dokies

➔ This happened bc @ozarkthedog challenged me to write some lucy porn with no plot (thank you my love <3) i have this condition where i can't write anything less than 1k so i was shook this came to me so easily hopefully it doesn't suck fjsfjslfjs

“I’ve never…”

“We don’t have to,” you quickly counter. The last thing you want to do is pressure Lucy into new territory.

She looks up at you from her position against the pillows with the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “I want to,” she says with an earnest nod that sends her long hair out around her head like a dark halo. “I really want to.”

“Okay.”

This goes against everything you’ve been taught since the two of you were kids. Sex is for reproduction, not pleasure. It’s nothing more than goal-based. It’s all bullshit, of course, and you’ve never been quiet about your thoughts on that–much to the quiet chagrin of the leadership. You hadn’t realized until recently, though, that your childhood best friend feels the same way.

In a flash she’s got you trapped in her arms so she can roll on top of you, drawing a surprised gasp from your lips at the quick flip. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“I’ve never been on this side,” she murmurs, breath warm against your neck. “You’re gonna have to show me what to do.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and at first no words come. How long have you wanted to be in this exact position with this exact girl? How could words even hope to convey all the thoughts rushing through your brain right now? “I can do that.”

“Okie dokie.”

Her lips are so soft. There’s a heady contrast between her firm grip on your hips and the feather-light way she makes her way down the expanse of your stomach. There’s confidence in everything Lucy Maclean does, but she looks up at you now as she kisses your hip and there’s nerves swirling in those chocolate brown irises. Underneath her self-assuredness, there’s always been a fear of failure. It’s something you’ve comforted her through a lot over the years.

“Do I just… go for it?”

You can’t help smiling at that wide-eyed eagerness to learn and to please. “You know what feels good to you?”

She nods, fingers unconsciously massaging your spread thighs. She’s already so good at this without even realizing it.

“Start with that, and we’ll go from there.”

She nods again, and that look crosses her face. It’s one you’ve been familiar with since you were both in velcro shoes–sheer determination, resolution to rise to a challenge. You’ve always admired that look. Lucy “never backs down” MacLean is a badass, and you’re lucky to call her your best friend.

She starts with light little kitten licks to your clit, whining as her hips shift to grind against the mattress from your taste alone. She’s a little light on the pressure but you moan anyway to show her she’s on the right track. “That’s it baby, a little harder…”

“I won’t hurt you?”

Your hand comes down to cup her cheek, silently reassuring. “No, honey, you can be rough with it. Feels so good.”

She’s always taken constructive criticism in stride–she pulls away for just a moment to readjust her grip on your spread thighs, and then she returns with vigor. This time, when she seals her lips around your clit and sucks, your moan isn’t even remotely fabricated.

“Like that?” She asks, a proud smile flickering at the corners of her lips as she lets her tongue trail down to taste you properly.

“Yeah, Lucy, fuck.”

“You taste good,” she murmurs into your cunt, matter-of-fact. You can’t help smiling, even through the whine that escapes you as she returns to your clit.

“You’re doing great,” you praise as your fingers tangle into her hair. So soft, so well cared for. Always prim and proper–you love that you get to be the one to unwind her like this.

She’s a remarkably fast learner–in just a few quick minutes, and she has you whining and bucking your hips on the edge of a precipice.

“Oh god Lucy, I’m gonna–”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence, because she doesn’t relent. Her lips seal around your clit and she doesn’t let up until you’re gushing, simultaneously trying to push her away and pull her closer.

“Wow,” she breathes reverently. “Was that good?”

“Incredible,” you sigh. Your bones feel like liquid–it’s all you can do to pull her up into a messy kiss. The taste of your own arousal on your beautiful best friend’s tongue is nothing short of euphoric.

She keeps her mouth locked to yours for a long moment, then you can feel her lips twist into a broad grin. “I want to do it again.”

“Easy killer,” you say with a breathy little chuckle. “It’s your turn first.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and then she’s nodding her head rapidly. “Okie dokie.”

➔ beta: @ozarkthedog ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

[innerfare]

Smutty Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Mihawk headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: a little bit of knife play (cutting clothes not skin), dirty talk, low-key masochist Mihawk, exhibitionism on the down low

———

Bisexual icon.

King of sexual tension.

Marine hunter? More like marine fucker. 

Is eternally bored, but has a keen interest in lingerie, and he rather likes cutting it off you. He never thought he would enjoy drawing a knife or sword during sex, but he finds the trust you put in him invigorating. 

A very passionate lover. His insistence on being the best carries over into the bedroom. As such, he’s no fan of quickies. He wants you tied up in his four poster bed, the curtains pulled back to allow moonlight to filter in from the balcony, your naked body sprawled across his silk sheets until the sun rises. 

Talks dirty but getting a moan out of this man is like pulling teeth. Also won’t tell you if you’ve pleased him. Your only indication is that he comes back for more. 

Of course, if you do want to get a moan out of him, the best way is to hurt him. Likes if you rake your nails up and down his back, yank his hair, bite him (especially the spot between his thumb and index finger after sucking his fingers), squeeze his face in your hands, maybe even slap him.

And then there's his bondage kink. If you tie him up, it better be to whip him. He'll start out goading you in that bored tone of his, accusing you of half-assing it, telling you to hit him harder. You know you've gotten to him when the comments cease and he bites his lip, his brow furrowing.

Doesn’t just fuck. He spars. 

Saying it again, cannot emphasize this enough, he loves a biter.  

Wants a partner who wants to be chased, as most people either throw themselves at his feet or run away with no hope of being caught. Will chase you down the halls of his castle and ravage you wherever he catches you. Poor Perona has a list of sofas she no longer sits on, counters she refuses to put food on, and entire staircases she avoids. There are even certain mirrors she doesn’t want to look in, even if the marks have been wiped away. Zoro doesn’t fully believe her when she gives him the rundown, thinking nobody can be that feral, particularly not his stoic teacher, who in his mind is the picture of restraint and civility, until he’s training by himself one day in the courtyard and happens to see you appear in one of the towers, only for Mihawk to appear after you and rather lewd sounds to follow. Also sees Mihawk fucking you hard in a window one time, and over a balcony another time. Zoro quickly learns not to enter the wine cellar between the hours of six and ten PM. 

Lives for dangerous sexual situations. Has fucked you in the woods at night despite the menagerie of dangerous beasts running around, has fucked you from behind in an open window several stories high, your front half hanging out, has even fucked you in his small boat on stormy, raging seas. Every duel he has ever enjoyed has been charged with sexual tension.

In addition to these trysts, he wants you in his bed every night after dinner. You either shower or bathe together, and then he works you into a sweat so you need another one.  

Worries deeply if you ever reject his advances, thinks it must be his fault. “Have I displeased you in some way? Tell me, my love, and I will make it right.” It’s times like this that any veneer of disinterest falls away and you see just how much he cares for you. 

Has certain pet names reserved for the bedroom. “My mewling kitten,” is his current favorite. 

Always does that thing where he strokes your temple with his thumb when he fucks you in missionary. It’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture when you’re struggling to take all of him, but it riles you up more than it calms you down. Uses his other hand to pull one of your legs up as far as it will go, so he’s pinning you down but comforting you about it. 

Loves to feel you up in the bath.

If he has more than one glass of wine, he will be going down on you. The more wine he has, the bigger his appetite for you. It gets worse with stronger liquor. When the Red Hair pirates come to stay and Shanks insists on breaking into the whiskey Mihawk keeps for that very occasion, you know you won’t be sleeping until they leave (and that Shanks will be going down on you, too). 

His favorite is to go down on you on his dining table. It makes you feel very exposed considering he strips you down but remains clothed (as is common with Mihawk when he's domming) and the dining room is very large with many doors that anyone could walk through. But that's what Mihawk enjoys about it.

If you go down on him, his hands will most certainly be in your hair. He loves smoothing your hair, and if it’s long, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to get the best possible view of your pretty face. 

Once moaned Shanks’ name in bed. Neither of you ever addressed it, but you do always flirt with Shanks when he and his crew come around because it seems to peak your lover’s interest. You haven’t proposed a threesome because you don’t want to share him with the Red-Haired drunk. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[suuuupernovaaa]

tsngawpay

tsngawpay [ˈt͡sŋaw.paj] n. tears

Anonymous Request: Can I request an Aonung fic where the reader is a Sully and Aonung teases her like he does the rest of them (despite finding her cute) but she's really sweet and innocent and has the biggest puppy dog eyes so when he says anything mean she immediately looks like a kicked puppy and he ends up backtracking until finally he just gives up being mean because he may be a jerk but he's not a monster. (He even apologizes to kiri because he saw how hurt reader looked at his behavior) And somewhere in there he realizes he has feelings for her and has to man up and confess before a better man than him swoops in and steals her away?

+

Request from @jakesully-sbabygirl: Can we have Aonung with the trope "she fell first but he fell harder"?

"He asked," says the small, annoying man with the tight curls on his head, "if you are a freak?"

Kiri's face falls, and so does my heart. I am far enough away that the men picking on my sister haven't noticed me, but close enough to hear their conversation.

Kiri shakes her head and indignantly replies, "No."

I see Lo'ak approaching, so I jump up before things can escalate.

"Hey!" I holler, and all eyes snap to me. "Leave her alone. You're being mean."

One of the boys reaches out for Kiri's tail, and she pulls it away with a yelp.

"Look, it's the other freak," the first boy says, and I try to stop my lip from quivering, but I'm not entirely successful.

It's hard enough to be away from home, adjusting to an entirely new way of life, without being bullied. It's disappointing to see Aonung here, among these bullies, almost leading them. The first day we arrived on the beach, I'd found him to be so visually striking, with such a lovely smile... to find out he's a jerk has been a real disappointment.

Something about him still draws my eye, though. And now, he's staring back at me, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

"Leave my sisters alone!" Lo'ak says, finally arriving, and Aonung raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You're right," Aonung says after a long, tense pause. "We're going."

He turns on his heel, and his lackies follow him with deeply confused looks on their faces.

I reach out for Kiri's hand, and she takes it, staring at me with concern. Kiri's strength is her connection with Eywa, Lo'ak's is his boldness, Neteyam's is his fierceness in battle, and mine is crying.

Everything makes me cry. My mother says when I was born, I cried for a month straight, and have basically been crying once a day since.

I wish I was bold like Lo'ak, or strong like Neteyam, or even carefree like Tuk, but I am none of those things. I am 'sensitive', and it makes every day harder than it needs to be.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Lo'ak asks, grabbing my arm. "That was weird, wasn't it?"

"What?" I ask.

"That they just left. Aonung looked so weird."

I shrug. "I don't care how that jerk looked," I reply, but of course, I do care. I care about everything, deeply, and I'm on the verge of tears now.

"Come, sister, lets swim," Kiri says, smiling at me, and I nod and follow along, saved from tears for now.

--

What is it about the oldest Sully sister? Something about the look on her face made Aonung feel... something.

Shame? Guilt? Lust?

Maybe all three.

All he knows is, it wasn't funny anymore, when it looked like she was going to cry. It caused some kind of strange, visceral reaction in him, the thought of her crying. He would have done anything to stop it.

What is this feeling?

--

"He called you a freak?" my father says in that cold, calm tone that means he is really, really angry. It's later that same evening, and all seven of us sit in our mauri pod, eating dinner after a long day of learning.

"Don't, Lo'ak!" I hiss. "They stopped when I asked them to. They're just dumb boys."

Dad sits back, chewing his food and scowling. "You tell me if they pull that again, Y/N, you got it?"

Mom elbows him for using a harsh tone with me, and I roll my eyes.

"It was weird, the way they just... walked away," Kiri adds, passing me some fruit. "Why do you think they did that?"

"Aonung thinks Y/N is cute," Neteyam says with his mouth full, and I gasp.

"Of course he doesn't. He just didn't want you to come and kick his ass."

"Hey," Dad warns, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. He and mom share a glance and a grin, and I look back to Neteyam.

"Aonung is a jerk. I don't know how he and Tsireya could be related."

Neteyam shrugs, but he's smiling too, and I'd like to slap the smile off his face, but I know better than to start a fight with my older brother. He'd win every time.

Later that night, though, the idea of Aonung thinking I'm cute crosses my mind again. As much as I'd like to, I just can't hate the idea.

--

Kiri, Lo'ak and I spend most of the next day with Tsireya and Aonung, practicing the finger talk and learning all we can from them about how to be active members of the clan, and pull our weight.

Tsireya is a quiet, confident teacher, and we've learned so much from her. Especially Lo'ak, who is hopelessly in love with her.

Eventually, Tsireya and Lo'ak swim away to be in a world all their own and as usual, Kiri is nowhere to be found. This leaves Aonung and I perched on a rock alone together, and the tension is palpable.

I can't decide if I want to leave and never speak to him again, or stay with him all day.

There's no denying, I still find him very handsome, but I'm so turned off by his behavior, the way he's treated my family.

"I'm sorry," he says, interrupting my thoughts, "about yesterday."

I raise an eyebrow at him, surprised by what seems to be a very genuine apology. "You are?"

"Yeah. You looked... really hurt. I'm sorry."

"Why would it bother you if you hurt a freak?"

He reaches out, taking my hand into his, and the differences are obvious. Not just the coloring, or the wideness of his hand, or how his large hand engulfs mine, but the biggest difference of all: he has four fingers, and I have five.

"We have grown up hearing about the evil of the sky people, and what they could do to us."

I flex my fingers, but he doesn't let my hand go. "I am Na'vi, as is my mother and my father. I can't help how many fingers I have."

With his free hand, he reaches up, touching the hair above my eyes, which Na'vi don't have. Something about his hand on my face sends chills up my spine.

"I know. I am sorry, truly." He removes his hand from my face, and places it over his heart.

Though everything is screaming at me not to, I believe him, and we smile at each other.

--

Things are different, from that day forward. Though Aonung is still a little arrogant and teases at times, he's never mean. There is no more name calling, or fighting, and things almost feel harmonious.

This is another side of Aonung, and it's hard to reconcile with the jerk he showed himself to be before. He's patient and kind, and he laughs and smiles. I see the man I thought he was that first day on the beach.

The crush I had on him at first, that faded away, has blossomed again.

The day the Tulkun return, we all rush to the water to find them, and as I call for an Ilu outside our pod, Aonung charges up on his ilu, and extends a hand to me.

Without hesitation, swept up in the excitement all around us, I jump on and wrap my arms around his waist. We make a quick turn and dive under water, and I hold on tight. Aonung reaches back as we charge forward, gripping my thigh to keep me from falling off.

The tulkun are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Giant, beautiful creatures decorated in the same tattoos that the Metkayina wear. They're diving, turning, and everyone is absolutely overwhelmed with joy.

We surface, and Aonung pats my thigh and points forward, to a specific beast.

"My brother," he says. "I want you to meet him."

I feel such joy and honor in my heart, to be introduced to Aonung's tulkun brother, and I try not to burst into tears on the spot. Instead, I just nod, and we weave forward through the Metkayina reuniting with their brothers and sisters, until we reach Aonung's tulkun.

He tells me his name, how they met, what they like to do together. He shows me his tattoos, and we sit on his giant fin together. It's absolutely astonishing, to be in the presence of a Tulkun. I understand why they are so important to these people.

"This is Y/N," Aonung tells his brother. "She is special to me."

I whip my head around to stare at Aonung. "I am?"

There is a grin on his face, ear to ear. "Very special. I care about you a lot, Y/N."

I furrow my brow and shake my head. "No, Aonung. I'm just... I'm just ridiculous."

He throws his head back laughing, as if he wants to prove my point. "How are you ridiculous?"

"I'm not special! I'm not brave like Lo'ak, or fierce like Neteyam, or smart like Kiri. I'm just..."

"Sensitive," Aonung replies with a shrug. "You're sensitive. You cry a lot. You feel things more deeply than anyone I've ever met. Do you think this is a bad thing?"

I feel the tears in my eyes now, and turn away from Aonung, staring his brother tulkun in the eye as we float gently on his fin.

"Yes," I whisper.

Aonung's arm is around my shoulders, and he reaches out, using two fingers on my chin, turning my face towards him.

"It is not a weakness, to feel deeply. It makes you kind and caring, two areas that I am told I'm severely lacking in. It makes you fine match for me. I've never met anyone like you. I didn't realize it at first, but every day that I spend with you, I care more deeply for you. I See you, Y/N."

There is no holding the tears back now, and I bury my face into the crook of Aonung's neck, crying freely. His tulkun rocks us gently up and down, almost as if to soothe me.

When I'm finally calmed down enough to look up, I meet Aonung's eyes. "I See you, Aonung."

And I do. He's not mean, or unfeeling, or a jerk; he's as soft as I am, under as much pressure as I am, and not sure how to express it.

As beautiful as he is outside, he's even more so inside. I feel elated, joyful, to be given the chance to be with Aonung.

"You know," I say, "we have to tell my dad. If we're going to..."

"I'm going to court you," Aonung says, matter of factly. "I'll tell him. Should we go now?" He makes to hop off the tulkun and I laugh, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back to me.

"No, lets leave that to another day."

Unexpectedly, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug, and pressing his lips to the top of my head.

Over Aonung's shoulder, I spot my parents, riding an Ilu together through the happy crowd. My mother lifts her arm, pointing to me, and father turns his head.

His jaw drops.

Another day seems to be today.

[phoniexrose02]

Heat

Miguel Diaz x Black! Reader

Smutt~

"baby you sure you Feeling alright?" Miguel ask in a Quiet Whisper, You'd been Feeling him up all Day.

Whatever your boyfriend had Going on Was making you hot. After being in the hospital for a Bit, he'd finally seemed to be Recovering Well an Even Gained a Few Pounds to show it.

"Mm'Fine..."

The Boy Had you in Heat~

He'd smash his Heavy Body into you When Cuddled, and his Strength was Godsent, He'd Pick you up with Every Hug an effortlessly pulled you into his Lap Whenever you Found yourself Seated.

It didn't Help that you two were Recently Sexual active, he Made you Feel like a Goddess While you Learned EachOther's Body's.

You Sat in his Living room Feeling him up threw his Pants, While he tried to study on the Homework Ahead. He'd of course Taken Note as he'd found himself Struggling to focus."My Ma is Leaving for work Soon Amor, you'll get what you want~" he whispered to You Nibbling and Sucking at your Ear."But for now let's try to get this Done, Ok?" You Nodded an He Kisses you Cheek before returning to the Homework.

You Couldn't Keep still tho...you couldn't stop yourself from Looking at his Handsome Face. You'd thought about Teasing him again Thirty Minutes later only for his Mother to rush out into the living room in her Scrubs Separating you once again.

"Your Yaya's at her Bookclub an Dinners in the Oven Miggy"

"K, te quiero mamá!" Carmen Kissed at her Son's Cheek as you Waved Goodbye." And I want Fénix Home By 9!" She Yelled on Her way out Making the two of you Laugh.

Followed by Awkward Silence as you Both Came to the realization."Do you...Wanna Eat Dinner First??" Miguel asked Shyly as you started Rubbing at his thigh. "I don't wanna Wait any Longer~" you Whimper out to him, Wrapping your Arms around his Neck your Nails Gently Glazing against him, he Shivered but Quickly Wrapped his Arms around your waist pulling you Close."Straight to the Room Than?" you Nodded, Shifting onto his Lap."Take me There?~" you Pouted out grinding again his tent. You Yelp Out When your Suddenly off the Couch.

"I Gotchu Babe~" Miguel Smiled he could tell you Went Gaga for his Muscles, He felt at Ease Whenever you touched him, Loved on him. He walked to his Room While you Gripped him Tightly, you Bite your lip when he finally climbed you both into Bed Placing you against his Pillows."Your so Strong Migs~" he Smirked pulling you into a Kiss.

" I'm all Yours Amor~"

At this Point you two were furiously making out an Tearing off each others Clothes."Damn Baby~" Miguel Moaned out as he Pulled your Panties from your Soaking Cunt."You in Heat or Something Chica?" He Giggled out Before Tossing them somewhere in the Room, he Ran his Fingers Threw your Seeping Pussy while you Grab for his Hard Dick an Began Playing an Jerking at his Tip, He Hummed as he thrust into your Hand letting his Fingers Playing with your Clit. Miguel Groaned out Quietly as he started a Harder Thrust into your Hand, you Pulled him Closer with a Small Whimper of your own.

"Come on Miguel, let me Hear you~" you pleaded an he'd let his noises Slip out more as she Jerked faster, he played along slowly circling around you hole before shoving two fingers into your Heated Mound."Fuck baby you so Hot you Want me that Bad?~" he Struggled out thrusting his fingers in with Ease. You Nodded Pulling away from him in pleasure, Laying Back into his Pillows, you Rolled your Hips into his Fingers as he leaned down lightly biting an Sucked on one of your nipples while Pinching the Other, You Yelped with the Sudden add Pleasure arching your Back off of the Mattress in Pure Bliss.

" Fuck Miguel! I'm Wet enough, I want your Dick~" he pulled his Fingers from you Before Shoving them into his Mouth, He Moaned at your Taste Before pulling them from his Mouth with a Smirk." So Horny Mi Fénix~" he Hopped up from his Bed retrieving a Condom from on of his Bottom Draws, an Slipped the Latex before pulling your legs to the Edge of the Bed.

You Wrapped your legs around his Middle already familiar with the Position until he pulls them over his Shoulders instead." I wanna bury myself in your Heat Amor, Let me fill you up Good~" he Guided his Dick into your Warmth with a satisfied Groan, his Dick being Squeezed the deeper he slips in. Your Moans fill his Ears as he Worked himself In Thrust by Thrust, he Hugged you Thighs Close to his Chest as he Worked a Good Rhythm into you."

"Fuck! Your Melting me Amor!~" his Dick filled you Perfectly, his Beautiful tip Rubbing your Deepest Depths. You Gripped the Sheets For Dear Life as he pulled you In with Every Thrust Screaming to the High Heavens as he Molded himself into you,

You Mewled as he Fucked you Harder his Groans Getting Louder as he Chases his High."Ruin me Miguel~" you Begged for him an he Squeezed your legs letting his Fingers sink Deeper Thighs as he Fucked feral, Probably the Hardest he Ever Fucked you.

"Oh Fuck! I'm Cumming Papi! Don't Stop! Don't Stop!~" Your reach you Breaking point Pretty Quickly but you Weren't Expecting your Juices to Cover Both your Stomachs, Miguel didn't Have much Time to be Shocked as his Thrust Grew Sloppy, moving with no Rhythm as your Pussy Sucking him in with Every Thrust, He shoved himself as Deep as he Could Fit an Came with a Beautiful Moan."Ugh! God you have the Best Pussy I've Ever Felt!~" He panted Resting his hands on your stomach."I'm the only Pussy you've ever Felt" you Said Sheepishly Drawing his Attention Back to you, he Pulled you legs from his Shoulders. "Hush...don't think I didn't Hear you Earlier~" Miguel wiggled his Eyebrows Rubbing up your Hips.

"It..it just Felt Right! At the Time..."

"Try an Remember that Excuse Next Time Papi's Makin' you Squirt~"

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[sweetbluus]

rumor has it

synopsis: rumor has it that yu jimin, straight A student and the star captain of the university's volleyball team, has only gotten to where she is through cheating and bribery. now, she's your partner for a final paper.

pairing: uni student jimin x uni student fem!reader

warnings: cursing

word count: 9.5k

notes: this is my first time uploading a piece on any media platform. feedback and comments are much appreciated!

the buzz of the students in the lecture hall dies down immediately as dr. kim, your english professor, walks in. you find your seat beside your best friend aeri and uncap your pen, ready to take notes. aeri, however, has different plans and rests her head on her arms, ready to catch up on sleep for the next hour. it isn't her fault that the university thought an 8 am english class was a great idea.

"good morning, class. let’s begin today’s lecture," dr. kim's voice echoes. with those words, you begin jotting down the professor's key points, making sure your handwriting is clear, knowing that the sleeping girl beside you will be asking for your notes later.

throughout the lecture, you can't resist sneaking glances at the girl two rows ahead of you. yu jimin sits there, in all her glory. you don’t know many people at this university, but it's nearly impossible not to recognize jimin.

her face adorns bulletin boards all over campus, celebrating her role as the victorious captain of the volleyball team that clinched the national championship for the university. from life-sized cutouts of her and the team placed around various corners to her frequent appearances on the university’s instagram story, it's harder to evade her presence than to acknowledge it.

although you aren't particularly interested in sports, you can't help but admit that she is extremely attractive. however, you’ve heard numerous stories about jimin's infamous reputation, primarily from the napping girl beside you. apparently, jimin is a rude and overall unpleasant person who got her high grades thanks to bribery and cheating.

an hour drifts by, and finally, dr. kim speaks the much-awaited words, "alright, class. i believe that concludes today’s session."

before you can pack your bag and make fun of your friend for drooling, dr. kim interjects, "oh, before i dismiss you, i'd like to announce that the final paper is approaching. it will be a paired effort." a glance between you and aeri implies your agreement to be partners.

"i will be assigning the pairs randomly," the professor states, pausing to allow the students to voice their groans and complaints.

"is she serious?" aeri asks you in a hushed voice. however, it wasn’t quiet enough.

"yes, miss uchinaga. i am indeed serious," you stifle a laugh as your best friend's ears turn crimson.

"as i was saying, this final paper will be done in pairs that i will randomly assign. you are all adults, and it's important to learn how to collaborate with people you don’t know. this paper will facilitate that skill." it takes all your restraint not to roll your eyes. it's way too early to be doing this.

“when i call your name, come up to my desk and pick a piece of paper from this box which has the names of everyone in this class. show me the piece of paper and i’ll announce it. if it’s your own name, you can draw again.” dr. kim looks around to make sure the class understands the instructions.

“it seems like everyone has understood so we’ll begin. miss uchinaga and miss y/l/n, why don’t you do the honors and pick out your pairs first.”

you and a much more awake aeri begin walking to the front, not missing the way jimin’s eyes quickly meet yours. maybe you just need some sleep just like aeri.

with a sigh, aeri goes first and is paired with the girl who is sitting on the right of jimin, a girl with the name ning yizhuo. she seems nice enough with the way she smiles at aeri when she hears her name.

you go up to the box and rummage through its contents. stopping at what you feel is an appropriate time, you unfold the paper and show it to your professor.

“it seems like ms. y/l/n’s partner for the final paper is yu jimin,” you make eye contact with her as the professor calls her name, and you give her a tight-lipped smile. she meets your eyes and only gives you a small nod. you and aeri go back to your seats.

as the professor continues to announce pairs, you notice a mix of expressions – excitement and disappointment – on the faces of your classmates. some seem genuinely happy with their partners, while others exchange anxious glances.

“i am giving you all 2 months to work on this paper. please do not procrastinate. this is a major paper, and your grade on it will have an immense effect on your final grade overall,” dr. kim announces before she leaves the room.

the buzz of the students in the lecture hall continues once more, with the majority of the class talking to their partners. you take a quick look at your partner, who was still sitting next to what seemed to be two of her close friends, one of which was aeri’s partner and the other was a girl named minjeong, her co-captain.

“i’m scared,” you tell your best friend. “what if she makes me do all the work?”

“hey, don’t judge a book by its cover – or i guess a person by their rumors,” aeri says, getting up from her chair. 

“you’re the one who told me those rumors in the first place!”

“i would say i was spreading valuable information, not rumors,” aeri reasons as you both begin walking to exit the front door of the lecture hall.

before you both could step out the door, you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn around, not expecting a certain raven-haired girl to be the one behind you.

“hi, y/n. i’m jimin,” she introduces herself to you bluntly without a smile on her face, how welcoming. before replying, you nod goodbye to aeri, encouraging her to go on without you.

“nice to meet you, jimin.” it was your first time talking to this girl, but immediately you could feel the pressure of her presence. you could barely look her in the eyes.

“here’s my number,” jimin hands you her phone with her contact information bright on the screen. “i have another class after this, but i’ll text you so that we can meet and talk about the paper.”

you nod, pulling out your phone and copying the numbers from her screen onto yours.

putting her phone back into her pocket, jimin begins walking out of the room with her two friends trailing not so far behind her.

“oh, and by the way, y/n,” jimin stops in her steps and stares you down in the eyes, “i won’t make you do all the work. i don’t trust you enough with my grades.”

you stand there, mouth slightly agape and face hot from embarrassment, watching the three girls walk out of your sight.

fuck.

"y/n, it's not that bad," aeri attempts to comfort you as she took a bite of her sandwich. hours had passed since you were paired with jimin, and now you found yourself in a university common space, trying to have lunch with aeri. however, the embarrassment from your earlier encounter was dampening your appetite.

"she probably hates me now, i can feel it," you sighed dramatically, plopping your head onto the cold table.

"what you're feeling is probably hunger. eat," aeri said, digging through your bag to retrieve your packed lunch. “it’s not your fault you didn’t know she had superhuman hearing,” aeri tries to make light of the situation.

"she's going to tell all her followers that i'm an asshole, and i'm somehow going to get expelled from this university," you exclaim with an exaggerated groan.

you're well aware you're being overly dramatic, but considering the rigorous academic demands of this university and the looming assignments, papers, and tests from multiple classes, your nerves are at an all-time high.

"first of all, calm down," aeri set her sandwich aside. "second, i know i'm the one who keeps you updated with all the campus gossip since you're practically a dorm hermit. but seriously, rumors are just rumors."

you didn't understand why she had to point out your introverted, homebody habits. "you should just let go of those rumors and form your own opinion about her once you actually get to know her."

you don't reply as you open up your lunch and began taking small bites. that was one of your biggest dilemmas. if you looked up "opinionated" in the dictionary, it would feature your face as an antonym.

always going with the flow, never wanting to stand out or have a loud presence, you'd rather take what you're given than go out and seek something yourself. hell, you couldn't even form an opinion on a tiktok without first checking the comments to see what the majority of viewers thought.

before you could spiral deeper into your thoughts, your phone vibrates.

yu jimin

this is jimin.

i’m free at 3 pm today. let’s meet at the library if you’re free too.

“who’s that,” aeri asks as she notices your eyes skimming over your phone. “it’s jimin, she wants to meet at the library later today,” you answer.

y/n

hi, jimin.

i’m free. i’ll see you then.

“ugh, i don’t want to go,” you complain to aeri.

“y/n, are you hearing yourself?” your best friend gives you a deadpan look, “this paper is worth more than half of our final grade. if you fail this paper, you’re going to fail the class.”

the weight of her words sinks in, and you're reminded of the possible consequences of not taking the paper seriously. of course, you knew that you had no choice but to go and work with the infamous volleyball team captain. while you were still quite mortified from your earlier interaction with her, you didn’t want to fail out of college just yet.

only the distant hum of quiet conversations and the faint rustle of pages moving could be heard as you enter the library.

as you weave your way through the bookshelves toward the back, you finally lay eyes on the person you were looking for. jimin is focused on whatever content is displayed on her laptop. you can't help but notice her furrowed brows and the subtle movement of her lips as she reads the text in a hushed voice. the sun's rays cast a gentle glow on the contours of her face, accentuating her features.

curse this university for having naturally well-lit buildings.

you gently tap her shoulder, careful not to startle the focused girl. you wish you could say that her expression softened the moment she turned and spotted you, but if anything, her features seemed to tighten. this was going to be a fun time.

“hi,” you say quietly to jimin as you sit down in the open chair in front of her.

"let's begin," she immediately suggests while you retrieve your laptop from your bag. "i understand that we could work on this individually in separate places since we both have access to this document, but i personally prefer collaborating face-to-face with my partner, especially for a final paper." you give a nod in agreement to jimin's proposal.

for the next hour, you and jimin discuss only the paper's details, staying firmly on the subject of your final paper. she has already outlined the content the two of you will cover, assigned each of you specific sections to write, and established a schedule for completing each part.

at one point, she asks, "what do you think? you haven't said a word about anything i’ve mentioned." her eyes remain fixed on the shared document displayed on both your screens, with a majority of the content coming from jimin.

"i mean, i'm fine with whatever," you reply. in group papers, you've never been inclined to voice your opinions or contribute ideas. don’t get it wrong, you're certainly not a freeloader, but you've never assumed the role of a group leader either.

"not even a single suggestion or comment?" she finally lifts her gaze from her laptop, locking eyes with you. you instantly break the brief eye contact you shared.

"no, i’ll give you some if i come up with any. besides, we still have 2 months ahead to tackle this paper," you explain, trying to reason with her. she releases a deep sigh and shifts her focus back to her laptop.

she clearly isn't your biggest fan.

"i think that's all we should do today. we've got a solid plan in place, and we can use the upcoming days to gradually work on this paper," she informs you, sliding her laptop into her bag.

you nod, following suit and tidying up your side of the table.

"i have classes from 8 am until 3 pm back-to-back," jimin rises from her seat and pushes her chair in. "i've got volleyball practice every day of the week, starting at 4 pm, except for wednesdays and thursdays." you raise your eyebrows at the mention of her grueling schedule.

“so, we can meet at the library on wednesdays and thursdays after my last class, which is at 3 pm," she looks at you, and you get the feeling that she's not suggesting a meet-up but rather informing you that it's already arranged.

“sounds good with me, i’m free those days as well,” you inform her with the awareness that she had already assumed so.

as she turns to leave, a feeling inside you compels you to apologize for the comment you made about her to aeri in the lecture hall earlier. but before you can muster the courage to do so, she's already gone.

for the next two weeks, you and jimin meet up at the library on wednesdays and thursdays. while you still saw her during your 8 am class, she was only focused on the lecture or in conversations solely with yizhuo and minjeong. however, in the privacy of the library, your interactions with her only happen through the shared online document where your collaborative work took place.

actual conversations, if they could even be labeled as such, between the two of you were few and far between. the only topic that managed to breach the silence was the ongoing discussion about the final paper.

during lunch, you update aeri about your library sessions with jimin. between bites of food, you express your worry, "i honestly don't know how i'll survive working with her for the next two months. it's not that she's a bad partner or anything. i just feel so awkward around her, like i want to disappear into the ground every time we're in that library."

aeri raises an eyebrow and helps herself to a piece of your food. "have you ever tried having a conversation that’s not about the paper with her? maybe if you initiate something, she'll actually have a real conversation with you."

thinking about it now, you realize that you've never actually initiated a conversation with jimin throughout the weeks of meeting up. it's always been her leading the discussions about the paper while you simply go along with whatever tasks need completing.

you sigh, setting down your utensils. "she probably can't stand me."

aeri counters with an exclamation, "she doesn't even know you! besides, she's not exactly a nobody on this campus. she's likely heard worse things from others. i doubt she even remembers whatever you said, considering her only focus is volleyball and school."

"sometimes, i really hate how you're right," you grumble, starting to clean up your lunch.

aeri smirks, taking the last bite of her food. "which is pretty much all the time."

with aeri’s words in mind, you walk into the library a little bit after 3 pm to where you and jimin sat. as per usual, jimin was already there with her laptop out, typing away.

"hey," you say in a hushed tone as you sit down. "i swung by the campus cafe before heading here and picked up a little something for you." you hold out a brown paper bag across the table, containing a warm muffin.

"food isn't allowed in the library," she remarks, not even lifting her gaze from her laptop.

you inhale sharply, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. before you can pull your arm back, she reaches for the bag.

"but still, thank you. i'll save this for later," jimin looks up and offers you a nod with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “let’s get to work.”

around 30 minutes pass by and the silence has enveloped the two of you as it usually does in your meetings.

you stop your typing, that familiar feeling in your stomach urging you to break the silence. you find yourself wondering, what's the point? like aeri mentioned, jimin has probably heard worse things, and once this paper is finished, she'll likely forget all about you. after all, you're just another face in the crowd to her.

from the corner of your eye, you catch jimin glancing your way, noticing your sudden pause and distant expression.

“y/n,” she calls out, her voice pulling you back to the present moment.

you snap your attention to her. “yes?” you shake your head in an attempt to stop being swallowed by your thoughts. “did you say something?”

she raises an eyebrow, her gaze attentive. “that was the fifth time i tried getting your attention. are you alright?” you want to believe that there’s some sort of concern behind her question rather than just an act of common human decency.

“oh, yeah. my bad. i’m just tired. didn’t get much sleep last night,” you excuse. it wasn’t the truth but it wasn’t a complete lie either.

“that’s understandable, this semester is crazy,” jimin replies to you turning her focus back to her laptop.

"you're probably having the craziest semester out of any student here on campus," you remark, surprising yourself with the sudden courage to continue the conversation.

"what makes you say that?" jimin pauses in her work to look at you.

"i mean, i may not have the best knowledge of university sports, but even i know that being a team captain isn’t necessarily an easy responsibility. much less being the captain of a team with a national championship title under its belt," you explain. "plus, you have back-to-back classes from 8 am to 3 pm every day, and i assume you’re doing well in them, given the quality of your work in our shared class alone."

she lets out a quiet laugh - that was the first time you've heard it. "are you sure you’re not just making wild assumptions?"

your palms start to get sweaty, and you feel like you’ve definitely made a mistake. "i’m sorry-"

"i’m just joking," jimin interrupts you. "it’s absolutely not an easy schedule, but if you have to do it, you find a way. yizhuo and minjeong help me out a lot too."

"what do you mean 'have' to?" you silently curse at yourself for prying into her personal life.

"this is the most i’ve heard you talk, y/n," jimin says to you.

"i could say the same to you," you reply. "but, uh, don’t answer if you don’t want to, or if it’s too pers-"

jimin interrupts you once more. "it’s okay. i don’t mind. i prefer when people actually want to get to know me rather than making crazy assumptions that aren't true at all."

a twinge of guilt washes over you. even though you're disconnected from the campus social life, jimin's reputation has managed to reach your ears. many things have been circulated about her – from her attitude to her accolades, and even details about her love life, none of which appeared positive.

"back when i was younger," jimin begins, her vulnerability taking you by surprise, "my parents pushed me incredibly hard to excel in school. naturally, like most parents, they had aspirations for my success. they enrolled me in after-school tutoring to make sure i did better than all the kids in my grade. they also encouraged me to choose an extracurricular activity so that i’m not always buried in books. that's when i chose volleyball, obviously."

you absorb each word she says, intent on not missing a single one. here was yu jimin herself, an enigma of existence - simultaneously adored and despised. and now, right before you, she opens up and shares her story. the reason for her trust in you to this extent, allowing herself to be vulnerable, confuses you, yet you don’t mind at all.

“i have an older sister. she’s a hotshot lawyer now. she did well in high school and did very well in college unsurprisingly,” jimin shares and you notice a gleam of admiration in her eyes. “our parents never compared us to one another and we’re actually really close. besides yizhuo and minjeong, she’s one of the few people i can call my best friend.” you nod as she continues telling her story.

"my parents stopped pushing me so hard in high school," jimin continues, her eyes fixed on you to see if you’re still listening. you are. "they believed that i needed to find motivation within myself and take charge of my actions so that i wouldn't become overly dependent on them."

"so, no, my origin story isn't about parental pressure or living up to my sister's achievements. i believe i have to do well because... i want to. i have this belief that i'm destined for greatness, so i'll dedicate everything i can to achieving it,” jimin’s gaze turns serious. “even if it means having to deal with people who want to spread nasty rumors about me.”

you sit there in silent awe. you realize jimin was your complete opposite. jimin embodies a sense of ambition and dedication that you rarely exhibit. while you've often approached situations with passivity, avoiding confrontation, jimin radiates an unwavering pursuit of her goals.

the aspiration for greatness was something unfamiliar to you. your goals were straightforward – passing your classes, securing a well-paying job for the future, ensuring financial stability, and enjoying the company of your friends. as long as you had that, you were more than happy.

"what about you, y/n?" jimin's question breaks the quiet focus, both your laptops now lowered.

"what do you mean?" you ask, the confusion apparent on your face.

"i just shared something quite personal and vulnerable about myself. wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same?" jimin replies casually.

pausing, you contemplate your response. "i don't think i truly know myself."

jimin arches an eyebrow at your revelation. "what i mean is, i'm not sure who i am. throughout most of my life, i've mostly gone along with aeri, letting her lead me to new places and experiences. but i haven't really discovered a genuine passion for anything."

"i realize now how sad that sounds, especially to you, considering you're the complete opposite of that description," you continue, your voice steady. "but, despite it all, i'm still leading a pretty happy life. i've come this far, haven't i?"

jimin responds to your rhetorical question, her tone measured and thoughtful. "just because our ideals differ doesn't mean i can't accept your perspective. it's called empathy, y/n. i don't need to share your beliefs to understand where you’re coming from."

in that very moment, you feel the foundation of your assumptions about jimin, based on the rumors, begin to crumble.

"life isn't a competition, and you're absolutely right. if you're content and your actions aren't causing harm, doesn't that define a good life in itself?" jimin's words resonate with you.

as the sunset's warm glow graces jimin’s face, you find yourself thinking about how this girl in front of you has it all. no wonder she’s the topic of everyone’s conversations. her beauty is undeniable, she’s intellectually sharp, athletically skilled - she personifies an array of qualities that capture attention.

"thanks, jimin. your words mean a lot," you express, hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. "i've been wondering about something, though."

jimin responds, her curiosity piqued. "what's on your mind?"

"why did you feel so comfortable sharing that part of your life with me? don't get me wrong, i'm more than happy to listen, but we're practically strangers, and you opened up to me so easily."

jimin's gaze shifts toward the expansive windows. "like i mentioned earlier, it's a refreshing feeling when someone genuinely wants to know about my life, rather than blindly believing all those damaging rumors. believe me, i've heard them all, and most are far from pleasant."

before you could give her a reply, the librarian approaches your table. "excuse me, ladies. the library will be closing in 10 minutes. it's a good idea to start wrapping up and make your way back to your dorms," she advises with a warm smile, then walks away.

over the weeks you’ve been meeting with jimin in the library, you gradually get to know each other better. your talks shift from just focusing on the paper to real conversations. occasionally, you even end up talking more than working.

you find out that jimin is a big fan of anime. one of her favorites is "assassination classroom," and it made her cry. you’ve watched it before too, making you sob your heart out into your pillow after finishing it.

with a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips, jimin confesses, "i've never really had the chance to explore many hobbies outside of volleyball. but i've always used anime to unwind and relax.”

you also learn more about her sister – you can't miss how her eyes light up whenever she talks about her. you discover that she has terrible eyesight and wears contacts every day since it would be impractical to wear glasses to volleyball practice.

you begin feeling a sense of connection as she opens up to you about her interests and her life. it's a side of her you never expected to see – a vulnerable, relatable side that defies the rumors and preconceptions you once held.

in return, you find that jimin learns more about you. you share that you and aeri have been best friends since childhood. during one conversation, you share a memorable experience from your past: the time you and aeri got lost on a mountain during a family vacation hike.

"how are you both still alive?" jimin questions, her words laced with a mix of humor and genuine shock.

"to this day, we still have no idea," you reply, chuckling at the expression on her face.

she learns that you’re an avid film watcher after you start giving her detailed film recommendations when she asked you what would be a good movie to watch for a girls night in with yizhuo and minjeong.

as you walk from your dorm to your 8 am class, which you share with aeri, jimin, and her friends, you pass by a group of students. normally, you would quickly walk past them, not caring about the nonsense they'd be talking about. however, that changed when they mentioned someone you knew.

"did you guys hear that jimin is sleeping with her best friend's ex behind her back?" the person who seemed to be the ringleader of the group shared, as the other students around them snickered. "isn't she such a backstabbing bitch? i also heard that the only reason she got a perfect score on that exam that everyone else failed was that she slept with that professor."

you slow your steps, listening to the lies spewing from their mouths. over the past weeks, you've learned so much about jimin, enough to know that none of what they're saying is true. you're extremely aggravated at their words. plus, who the hell has this much energy to be so negative even before 8 in the morning?

a part of you wants to ignore it and walk into your class. that would be the easiest option. haven't you always liked your life that way - easy and devoid of confrontation?

which is why you're extremely shocked when you find yourself standing in front of the instigator, going head-to-head with them.

"excuse me? have you ever heard of personal space?" they snide, making the other students around them laugh as well.

"have you ever heard of shutting the fuck up and minding your own business?” you don't know why, but the next sensation you register is solid bone connecting with your knuckles, knocking the ringleader out.

"does anyone have anything else to say?" you say through gritted teeth, the ache in your knuckles resonating alongside the rapid thumping of your heart.

the mouths of the students around the unconscious ringleader drop. before anyone can say anything, you hear someone's voice.

"y/n!" aeri yells and grabs your arm, dragging you away from the group of students and into a private hallway near the lecture hall. next to her is her partner for the paper, yizhuo, along with minjeong and, of course, jimin herself.

"what happened?" asks one person from the group. you're unsure who.

"are you okay?" says another person - you still don't know who's talking.

"why did you do that?" questions a third voice. you're wondering the same thing. everything was blurry, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. your chest was heavy, and the burning sensation in your knuckles was bothering you beyond words.

it's so early, just 8 in the morning, and here you were, out of your mind. they help you sit down on a bench.

"you three go to class," the fourth voice tells the others. "i'll handle this."

"are you sure?" you register a figure nod at the question and then hear footsteps walking away from where you were.

"y/n, you need to take deep breaths and calm down, okay? you're safe. nothing bad is going to happen to you right now," the voice assures. their words help you see clearly again.

with a shaky voice, you ask, "jimin? what are you doing here? you're going to be late for class."

"the lowest grade i’ve made in that class for the whole semester was a 98, i'm sure i can miss one lecture," she says jokingly, and you notice she's trying to lighten the atmosphere. "i never knew you had a solid punch like that."

"i didn't either," you let out a breath of disbelief. "something just came over me, and i couldn't stop myself."

"what happened? that's probably the last thing i thought you'd do," jimin asks, holding your hands to steady them, with a much looser grip on the injured one that you used to knock that annoying student out.

a moment passes before you try to explain. "they were talking... about you," you hesitate. jimin raises an eyebrow. "that person was saying terrible things about you, and they were all lies!" your voice gets louder. "all lies, jimin."

"i might not be yizhuo or minjeong, but after getting to know you these past 2 months, i felt like i had to do something. i wanted to defend you, even though you probably didn't need it," you ramble, not stopping. jimin listens carefully.

"i couldn't just walk away. i usually would, but... i couldn’t this time. they were saying horrible lies. it was so wrong," you exhale deeply, realizing you were holding your breath. "i hated hearing that about my friend."

before you can apologize for assuming your closeness, jimin's lips curl into a smile. "thanks, y/n. i really appreciate you standing up for me. i really do."

she looks you in the eyes, and you can feel the gratitude radiating from her. "i've grown thick skin to the rumors, and they don't bother me as much as they used to when i first started hearing about them, so you don't need to worry about me."

"still, i'm very grateful to know that i have a friend like you who would defend me to that extent. but next time, just ignore them. i wouldn't want you getting expelled from the university just because of those lifeless losers," she smiles at you, and you feel a tug on your heart.

you nod, not sure what to say. "my hand hurts so bad," you manage a laugh despite the pain.

"let's get you an ice pack from the clinic," jimin helps you up, going with you. she holds your hand all the way until the clinic staff hands you an ice pack, but you're too focused on your hurting hand to notice.

that day, jimin learns that while you label yourself as non-confrontational and passive, you’re empathetic, loyal, and kind.

you meet up with aeri in the cafeteria for lunch. she glances at your bruised hand and the icepack you hold in the other hand.

“hey, y/n, is your dad a boxer? because you’re a total knockout!” aeri laughs at her own joke.

“you’re not getting any of my lunch today,” you say with feigned annoyance.

“no! i’m sorry!”

the realization comes at you out of nowhere while you're in the library with jimin, finalizing the remaining parts of the paper. as you steal a glance over the edge of your laptop, you observe jimin with furrowed brows, her tongue peeking out in concentration, and her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. she tells you its because she couldn’t find her contacts this morning.

it’s raining outside with dark and gloomy skies, casting a dim ambiance over the library. despite it all, jimin shines in your eyes. it’s been like this ever since the incident. you’re extremely thankful that no person of authority caught wind of the situation. you're even more appreciative that despite the confrontation that led to you knocking out a fellow student, you weren’t expelled.

jimin has always possessed a beauty that captivates you. but now, you couldn’t see anyone else but her. whenever you're with her, your heart races, your hands sweat, and your stomach twists. you're not sure why. it's an uncomfortable feeling, yet you don't hate it. instead, you welcome it. you swear you can feel her eyes on you at times. or maybe it’s just sleep deprivation.

it’s when she calls your name, "y/n," you lift your gaze, meeting her eyes. they shine brightly despite the darkness in the building, her hair framing her face exquisitely. "i really liked your latest addition to our paper. i think it really captures what dr. kim is looking for," she says, a smile gracing her lips. in that moment, that’s when it hits you.

she really liked your work and you really liked jimin.

“aeri, i don’t know what to do," you muffle into your pillow. the two of you are currently in your dorm, a space free of roommates thanks to your parents' decision to splurge a little.

"just tell her you like her," aeri offers a solution to your current dilemma, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"that's insane. i could never do that!" you shift onto your back, still laying in bed, and glance at aeri, who's absorbed in her phone and helping herself to snacks from your fridge.

"that's not insane. you want to know what's insane? walking up to a stranger and knocking them out before 8 in the morning. that's insane," aeri retorts.

you toss a pillow at her, not truly irritated because her point was pretty valid.

"y/n, just be honest with her. if she feels the same, great! if not, it's not the end of everything," aeri speaks with sincerity, finally raising her gaze. deep down, you acknowledge that aeri's advice is good, great even. it's also the most sensible approach.

you don’t listen to it at all.

with less than a week left before the final paper's due date, you have two more library meetings with jimin and see her in your english class every tuesday and thursday. despite these many chances to talk to her, you try to completely avoid her.

you fail in doing so. although you avoid her eyes during the 8 am class, rushing out with aeri to prevent any conversations, the final paper still needs to be finished.

this meeting feels reminiscent of the initial paper discussions, where conversations centered solely on the final paper. you avoid looking at her, which is out of the ordinary since you spent most of these meetings simply looking at her.

"are you okay?" jimin's face shows concern, her question directed at you.

"yeah, just feeling tired," you respond with the same excuse. it’s become a reflex at this point.

“alright,” jimin replies to what you assume was the end of the conversation. “so, can you tell me why you’re avoiding me?” damn.

“what do you mean?” you try and play it dumb, but even you couldn’t believe yourself.

"i'm not stupid, y/n. why are you so distant all of a sudden? i thought we'd moved past that after all this time," jimin studies you, her expression unyielding.

you quickly attempt to come up with a lie. "i'm sorry, jimin. i've just been swamped with finals from other classes, and my grades are really low. i need to do well on them to avoid failing," you deliver the excuse, hoping it sounds convincing enough.

fortunately, jimin seems to believe it, her expression easing. "i’m sorry for assuming it had something to do with me. i'm used to being at the center of problems most of the time,” there’s a hint of playfulness in her tone, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

guilt engulfs you as you face her. you're strongly tempted to just tell her the truth.

"no need to apologize, jimin. it's not your fault at all. it's mine for procrastinating on my other assignments," you offer a smile.

that night, you struggle to fall asleep as you overthink the potential outcomes of confessing - or not confessing - your feelings for jimin. the most extreme scenario that haunts your mind is her hating you and refusing to speak to you ever again. you don’t sleep at all that night.

you're standing in line at the campus cafe, desperately in need of a caffeine boost before your 8 am class. your phone displays aeri's message specifying the coffee she wants. you try to blink away the sleepiness with little success.

"y/n?" a tap on your shoulder startles you, and you turn to find yizhuo and minjeong behind you in line.

momentarily taken aback, you don't respond immediately, processing which one of them tapped you.

"you look like you got run over by a truck. are you okay?" yizhuo's concern is evident.

"yiz, you can't just say that! i'm sorry, she doesn't mean it negatively, i promise," minjeong interjects, playfully slapping yizhuo's shoulder.

despite your fatigue, a soft chuckle escapes you at their antics. "it's alright, i understand. i pulled an all-nighter last night studying for an upcoming exam." the lies come more easily now.

"oh, yeah. jimin's told us that you've been working hard lately," yizhuo shares, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. jimin talks about you?

"jimin always talks about you! we had a movie night last weekend, and she made us watch a film because she said you recommended it," minjeong adds, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

"how did you guys like it?" you ask, still surprised that jimin talks about you.

"we loved it. you have really good taste!" yizhuo's enthusiasm is unexpected, especially before 8 am.

"you and aeri should join us one of these nights. jimin would love to have you over. maybe after finals or after our game on friday? we can order pizza and snacks for dinner," minjeong suggests.

“plus, it can be be a little celebration for submitting dr. kim’s final paper and surviving her class,” yizhuo adds.

minjeong's invitation sounds far more appealing than your usual friday night, which typically involves binge-watching anime or kdramas in your dorm, sometimes with aeri if she doesn't have a party to attend. "sounds great, just text me the details."

finally at the cashier, you place orders for both your coffee and aeri's coffee. after a short wait, you receive your drinks and wait for yizhuo and minjeong. together, you enter your 8 am english class and send a small smile toward jimin before taking your seat next to aeri at the back.

today marks your final meeting with jimin in the library for this paper. the paper is fully completed, and the only task left is proofreading the sections.

"jimin, i have a question," you begin.

"about the paper?" she looks up from her laptop, meeting your gaze. you still can’t decide if her love for eye contact is a blessing or a curse.

"no, not about the paper. i just want some advice."

"oh?"

"it's nothing too heavy, i promise." you briefly glance down at your laptop's keyboard before returning your attention to her. "have you ever felt scared?"

"many times, yes," she replies. "but i thought you said this wasn't going to get heavy?" jimin's tone carries a playful note.

"it won't! i was just curious… how do you get over fear?" you ask earnestly.

"well, if i’m scared and it's a matter of my own safety, i avoid it. i have too much to live for," jimin senses the seriousness in your tone and tries to lighten the mood. "but if the fear stems from the possibility of failing or not achieving something, i tend to just disregard it and overcome it."

"if i let fear dictate my actions every time, i wouldn't be here today. i probably wouldn't have even picked up a volleyball. i might've dropped out the moment people started saying hurtful things about me," jimin muses, delving deep into thought.

"yes, certain things can be scary, but it's scarier to miss out on opportunities because fear is holding you back," jimin concludes her response.

a moment of silence passes. "you could give a ted talk with answers like that," you quip.

she playfully swats your hand. "finish proofreading your sections. we're almost done with this paper."

two hours pass, and you lean back in your chair. "i close my eyes, and all i see are punctuation marks," you groan.

"well, here's some good news. we can email this to dr. kim tomorrow during her office hours and officially put our final paper for this class behind us," jimin's enthusiasm is evident.

"so, no more library meetings, huh?" you sit up straight.

"no, but we'll still be seeing each other often. are you coming to movie night tomorrow?" jimin questions, tidying up her side of the table.

"i am," you reply, closing your laptop.

"don't tell me you plan on treating me like a stranger after we submit this paper," jimin jokes, standing up and collecting her bag.

"i would never," you respond.

she chuckles at your remark before reaching into her bag. "are you hungry?"

you walk alongside jimin. "a bit. i'm heading to aeri's dorm for dinner. she cooked japanese food for us."

"i'd think you two were roommates," jimin tells you as she pulls a brown paper bag from her backpack.

"well, considering how often she's at my place, i can see why. but no, we're not. she lives right across the hall," you explain.

"here," she hands you the paper bag. "take this. the girls and i went to an off-campus restaurant for lunch earlier, and i thought of getting you something as a small thank you."

"thank you? for what?" you inquire while accepting the bag.

"for being an amazing partner on this paper, of course. i've got to go. yiz and i have plans. i'll text you tomorrow about when to submit the paper," she informs you.

assuming she's about to walk in the opposite direction, jimin surprises you by enveloping you in a warm hug. naturally, you reciprocate.

"i'll see you tomorrow!" jimin calls out, walking out of your sight.

at aeri’s dorm, you devour the food that she’s prepared for you. “this is so good. have i ever told you that i’m so glad you’re my best friend?” you tell her through bites of food.

“only when i cook for you. now, close your mouth and chew properly. i don’t know how to do the heimlich maneuver.” aeri looks at the brown paper bag by your feet and points to it. “what’s that?”

“i think it’s a dessert or something that jimin got me.” you notice the look on aeri’s face. “don’t even start. it was just a little thank you for helping on that final paper.”

“i didn’t say anything. i might need to get yiz a little something too, considering what a great partner she's been," she teases

“ugh, whatever.” you finish your meal and share the slice of cake jimin got you with aeri.

later that night, as you lie in bed, jimin's words echo in your mind.

fear holds you back. fear holds you back. fear holds you back.

you open your eyes to the grating sound of your alarm the next morning and see a notification from jimin.

yu jimin

hey, good morning

just a reminder to email your copy of the paper to dr. kim at 8 am!

have a great day ahead :)

y/n

good morning

will do

have a great day as well

before you leave your dorm, you open your laptop and schedule send your copy of the final paper to dr. kim for 8 am. 

making your way to class, you spot a poster on a campus bulletin board.

"i think fearless is having fears but jumping anyway." huh? your confusion lessens as you realize it's an ad for the swiftie club on campus. you can't help but question why they'd position their ad right next to jimin's volleyball photo.

before entering the lecture hall for your biology class, another banner catches your eye.

"do not be afraid." what's with all these posters? you realize you hadn't finished reading it. "do not be afraid… to join us in the bible study club!" why do all these clubs insist on placing their endorsements next to the volleyball team's photos?

you could barely focus during the biology lecture, only hearing fragments of the professor's words. that is, until the professor singles you out, "miss y/n, why are you afraid?"

"excuse me, professor?" to say you're surprised would be an understatement.

"i asked you a question," the professor's expression turns unpleasant. "why do cells degrade?" there's no doubt you're losing your mind.

thankful that you won't see jimin until later, you use your free time to calm down and regain your composure.

walking through the university building's halls, you accidentally collide with an enthusiastic student. "have you ever been rejected?"

"what?" you react with genuine surprise.

"we're conducting a focus group discussion for our thesis on people who've experienced rejection. if you fit the criteria, your participation would be appreciated," the student hands you a pamphlet.

"oh, no thank you." you brush past the dejected student. spotting an empty hallway bench, you sit down, putting your head into your hands. it's as if you're spiraling into insanity.

what exactly are you afraid of? rejection? embarrassment?

all your life you’ve done nothing but run away from your problems. always finding the easy way out of everything. you’ve never wanted to face any problem or challenge head-on, deeming them unworthy of the trouble and effort.

lifting your head from your hands, you slump into the bench, trying to break free from your unhealthy mindset. 

that’s when the realization finally comes to you.

jimin is worth it. she's worth every bit of trouble in the world. she's worth every second of your time. she's worth it all.

you rise from the bench, your feet moving faster than your brain. inside the university gymnasium, students stream out of the volleyball courts, signaling the end of the game. quickly heading to the back where the locker rooms are, you spot minjeong outside.

"y/n? what brings you here? i didn't see you during the game," minjeong questions, looking at your disheveled appearance.

breathless, you hadn't realized you were running. "not at the game…" you struggle for air, "jimin…" you hunch over, attempting to regulate your breathing. "where?"

minjeong places a hand on your back. "before you go looking for her, make sure you don't faint right now," she advises. it's amusing, really, the volleyball player who just finished a game telling you to relax.

"she's in the back of the locker room. she's alone in there since everyone else quickly left because it’s a friday night," minjeong informs you. "only athletes are allowed inside." a frustrated groan escapes you. "however, if it's important, i can pretend i never saw you go in," minjeong adds, a sly smile forming on her lips.

you've never set foot in the locker room before. the idea of being here seemed distant, even impossible. yet, you continue forward until you spot the one person who's been on your mind since the very first conversation.

"y/n? how did you manage to get in?" jimin's voice carries a mix of surprise and curiosity.

you're thankful for minjeong's advice to catch your breath. "minjeong let me in." jimin's face is flushed, an unmistakable sign that she gave her all on the court. despite the disheveled hair and the sheen of sweat, she remains the most beautiful person you've ever seen.

"what are you doing here?" jimin stands from the bench, turning toward you.

"i needed to tell you something, and i couldn't hold it back."

"what is it-"

"wait. let me say this all before you say anything else, or i might just black out and forget everything." you inhale deeply. "throughout my life, i've let fear dictate my choices. i've been nothing more than a coward. i couldn’t even take a stance in a tiktok argument. confrontation scared me, and i felt like i could never handle it."

"i was always scared," you press on, sensing jimin's eyes on you. "until i met you and got to know you." your mouth feels dry. "there are so many things i want to say, but i don't want it to sound corny," you chuckle, noticing jimin's smile forming.

"through you, i've learned the worth of ambition and dedication. you've shown me that fear is something that can help you become the person you want to be, not stop you from becoming it," you pause, then continue, "you've given me a new perspective i never thought i could ever have."

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to talk this long,” you feel relieved as you see jimin laugh with you.

letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “i like you, jimin. i have feelings for you.”

a beat passes and she doesn’t say anything. each second that goes by, you feel the dread within you grow more and more. as you were about to open your mouth to apologize, you feel jimin grab your arm. in the hush that follows your confession, you feel a rush of nerves coursing through your veins. jimin's grip on your arm is firm yet strangely comforting, and her intense gaze never wavers from yours. 

jimin's lips form into a gentle smile. "you really caught me off guard, y/n," she admits, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and something you dare to hope might be fondness.

your lips quirk into a sheepish grin, your heart beginning to settle from the initial anxiety. "yeah, sorry about that. i didn't exactly plan to pour my heart out in the locker room."

jimin chuckles softly, her fingers lightly squeezing your arm. "well, i appreciate your honesty. it takes a lot of courage to say what you just did."

the warmth of her smile and the sincerity in her eyes encourage you. "you've been my inspiration for stepping out of my comfort zone," you confess, your voice steadier now. "i realized that i can't let fear hold me back anymore."

jimin's thumb draws a little pattern on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "i'm glad to hear that. and you know what, y/n?" her gaze intensifies, a spark of playfulness dancing in her eyes. "i think it's only fair that i tell you something too."

your curiosity piques, your heart racing once again. "what is it?"

jimin's smile turns tender, and she takes a step closer, her free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "i like you too, y/n. more than you can imagine."

you’re not afraid anymore. with a gentle yet firm pull, you bring her even closer to you. with a surge of courage, you close the distance between your lips.

the kiss is gentle, tentative at first, as if both of you are savoring the reality of this long-awaited moment. jimin's lips are soft and warm against yours, and her fingers find their way to your cheek, holding you tenderly. your heart thrums in your chest, the world around you fading into a distant blur.

as the kiss deepens, the initial hesitance transforms into unspoken understanding. lips meld with lips, sending electric sensations through your veins. it's an intertwining of emotions and desires, a connection formed by your honest words and the silent longing that brought you to this moment. 

when you finally pull away, your breaths mingle in the space between you. jimin's eyes are half-lidded, her lips still just a whisper away from yours. "i think you’re braver than you thought," she mumbles, her voice laced with newfound intimacy.

you share a breathless chuckle, your forehead resting against hers. “to be honest, i didn’t even think i’d make it this far.”

“are you guys done?” minjeong yells from the entrance of the locker room. “i’m hungry!”

both you and jimin share a laugh at minjeong. you reach for her bag and proceed to walk out of the locker room, your hands intertwined comfortably. together, you make your way to yizhuo's dorm, where aeri had already joined.

the soft glow of the television screen in the living room casts a gentle illumination on you and jimin, who are cozily seated on the couch. your hands are intertwined beneath a comfortable blanket, and a bowl of popcorn rests between you. the film playing on the screen has captured your undivided attention, while jimin is having trouble deciding either to watch the movie or you instead.

aeri and minjeong stand together at a distance, with yizhuo in her kitchen. the trio is busy preparing the remaining food to be served later in the night.

"i can't believe y/n actually did it. i can't believe your idea actually worked, minjeong," aeri whispers to the two girls.

"it was only a matter of time. i couldn't stand hearing jimin talk about her endlessly, looking like an oblivious lovesick puppy that was kicked onto the street," minjeong rolls her eyes at the memory of her friend. "i'm glad she finally admitted it to herself too."

"it wasn't minjeong's idea at all! it was my idea to go to the campus cafe that morning when you told us she'd be there," yizhuo points out. "plus, let's not take any credit from y/n. we may have given her some hope that jimin liked her, but at the end of the day, she was the one who made the move." aeri and minjeong nod, agreeing with yizhuo’s points.

“how’d you even know y/n was going to be at the cafe before class, aeri?” minjeong asks, finishing plating the dishes.

“she texted me she couldn’t sleep and asked if i wanted coffee before our 8 am class at 4 in the morning that day,” aeri explains.

“makes sense,” yizhuo points out.

the three girls make their way over to where you and jimin are seated, each holding plates of food in their hands. aeri takes the seat next to you, while minjeong and yizhuo settle on the floor amidst pillows and blankets, arranging the plates.

your gaze occasionally shifts from the movie playing to the people around you. there's a sense of contentment in this simple act – being in each other's presence, a shared moment that speaks volumes beyond words. back then, it was difficult for you to decide what you wanted and even what to think. now, looking around, you know for sure what you want.

you turn to face jimin when she squeezes your hand under the blanket. here she was, in all her glory. 

you inch closer to her, resting your head on her shoulder. despite the gentle embrace of that moment, an urge runs through you - to dismantle each and every single dreadful rumor about jimin. she was more than just the petty and nasty words of thoughtless individuals who thrived on idle gossip.

in your eyes, she embodied all that was beautiful and kind in the world. with her by your side, fear dissolved into insignificance, its grip over you gone.

“i really like you,” you whisper, only for her to hear.

“i know. i really like you too,” she whispers back to you.

additional notes: it's my first time ever uploading a piece on any platform! i hope you all enjoyed reading. i don't really know how to work tumblr, i just want to share my writing lol. your comments and feedback are much appreciated! but pls be kind, i am sensitive hehe

[gatitties]

Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨

I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )

─Shanks x wife!reader

─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either

─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU

Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳

You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.

The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.

With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.

Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.

You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.

The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.

The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.

"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."

You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.

Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.

You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.

Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.

Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.

Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.

[iznsfw]

Like a Feather From a Swan’s Broken Wing

LE SSERAFIM's Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader Smut

7,468 words

Categories | agent!You, ballerina!Kazuha, cunnilingus, daddy kink, spanking, fingering, slight bondage

Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist | Commission me!

This is a commission in which I was given the task to write literally anything I wanted (thank you!)

“The art of pleasing is the art of deception.”

— Luc de Clapiers

-

The gun’s in a steady direction, only looking forward. It’s aimed at the dark, at wherever the partners of the man you’ve been hunting for months might hide. On the darker side, you wish that if there would be anyone coming out, it would be the man himself so you'd be able to shoot him. He's the source of more headaches than you could count and the one who keeps you up late at night, and never for a good reason.

It's the selfish part of you speaking. You shouldn't let that interfere with the operation. 

You're in uniform, wrapped head to toe in camouflage green. It feels heavy on your skin, but that doesn't stop your determination. You'll carry the weight of your uniform before you carry the burden that is him, who prolongs the operation, leaves your coffee powder short, and keeps the nation in distress.

Today, you'll catch him, once and for all.

Look around briefly. The night covers you completely, and hopefully doesn't cover the enemy, too. You only take a flashed look; quickness is a skill you once were unlearned in but developed later into the senior years of your profession.

Physical strength is another—the door meets the ground with a harsh thud after you kick it down. Training isn't easy by any means, but it's worth it. Hopefully this mission is the same as well.

Teamwork is a skill you learned, too, for like a flock of crows, you and the squad enter the warehouse. Altogether, they're shouting. They call for the victim (add an "s" for plural form, if necessary), telling her she's okay. Everything's going to be alright, they say, no need to worry.

However, they promise a much bloodier end for the kidnapper, who's probably lurking in the shadows.

"Come out now!" Yunjin shouts. She's frightening when she's angry; her brows are downturned and her fierce eyes are locked onto any movement. Hands on her gun, she's always prepared. "We're not going to ask again!"

"Scan the whole place," Sakura, your leader and chief, commands the rest of your team. The hate for the man glistens in her eyes; for her fierce predator looks, the team often dubs her as the cat of your group. "Don't leave one stone unturned."

The cramped warehouse is emptied out by the sounds of boots on the stairs. You take over the mission half and half: you, Sakura, and Yunjin on the first floor and Chaewon, Wonyoung, and Minju on the second. 

Your half of the team knocks over the boxes. They spill out packing peanuts and hints of drugs packed in Ziploc bags. Doors fly open and welcome you into empty darkness. Above you, you hear the newer ones in the squad yelling. It's an amateur habit, but maybe it would work. Maybe it would finally draw the criminals out to justice, and all of this would be over.

But, of course, when they run down the stairs with faces devoid of any recognition and your face mirroring theirs with disappointment, it's clear that this whole thing is far from its end. 

In fact, you're only at the beginning of a long, uncertain road. 

-

Thread twisted around pins lead to everywhere but the answer. You've been staring at the billboard for too long, trying to piece together the olden newspaper scraps and sticky notes, but there's nothing. Any signs of an answer bring you to nothing. Each path, strung by thread and yarn of colors signifying this and that, draws to a dead end.

If you don't work harder with your team, Bae Suzy would be dead, too. 

So why haven't you caught the abductor yet?

You and your team sit at the rounded table. They look solemn, and perhaps a little irritated. You can't blame them—the mission you thought would be the last became another one to the list of failed rescue operations. 

They're getting tired of this, and if it were any other case, they'd let go of it. But this is Bae Suzy you're talking about—she's famous, reputable, and intelligent. She's an accomplished actress, a loveable idol, and an excellent model. All of these make her the treasure of many high-class individuals who’d pay billions and fans who'd give their lives to have her back, so you have to go through. Whether you like it or not, that’s how the story goes.

Your boss, chief Miyawaki Sakura, crosses her arms sternly. High curved nose, straight-set lips, and eyes that never failed to scour through the team, she nods at you. It doesn't take a sign language translator to get what she means: start talking.

"The mission was aborted due to fallacies in translation and sources," you say. You're using your classic, signature neutral tone for meetings like this one. There's an edge to it today, though. No one dares to tell you about it. "One of our sources translated the location and transferred the information to us incorrectly, hence bringing us to another failed operation."

Your teammates nod. Sakura sighs, pinching her nose.

"Due to this," you continue, slapping down on the table a picture of Bae Suzy, in which she smiles charmingly and waves to a mass of reporters, "we must conduct further readings into the case to ensure that the information is accurate. For Bae Suzy, and for us."

Another series of nods from across the room. Most of them are half hearted.

"So, do any of you have a proposal as to where the kidnapper is now? And where he might have brought miss Bae?"

The quiet Kim Chaewon raises her hand. She used to be the one who brought and made the coffee, but after she helped you solve a cold case during her night shifts, you brought it upon yourself to let her join the team. She listened to the seminars well and was excellent in the training. She had potential, is what you're saying, so you're more than glad to hear from her side.

"I believe the kidnapper is a dancer. Maybe he’s brought her to a studio."

"That isn't relevant," says Sakura, venom in her voice. It’s wholly unintended for her to lash out at the new member of the squad, but her exhaustion is getting the better of her today. 

Chaewon blushes. "I believe it is, chief," she retorts timidly. "He left ballet shoes and leotards in the last operation. It might lead us to his location, especially if he's the sentimental type."

"And you say that after we ransacked an old man's warehouse? After he thought we were little shits playing soldiers and looking for some coke?"

“B-but the operation was your idea!”

"I launch all operations, honey," Sakura informs her, smiling with fake sweetness. "What do you do?"

"Sakura," you warn. Your words are tight. You don't have it in your soul to deal with her feistiness today. Any other day you would have let the bickering go on, but the failed mission has downed your spirits. 

Silence passes around the table. Wonyoung's looking around, waiting for someone to speak. Sakura's staring daggers into the flushed Chaewon. Minju and Yunjin are as quiet as they can be. 

Let the silence ferment with acknowledgement: "Thank you, Chaewon, for your input. Any other ideas?"

"I believe Chaewon is right,” Minju pipes up. “We received a letter from the suspect after the operation.”

You smile, both at the good news and the fact that Minju is, so far, the prettiest out of the squad, and doesn't have only a pretty face but the good wits to back it up, too. That's part of the reason why you love welcoming her point of view, but a letter sounds interesting. Probably even more interesting than getting close with Minju, a thought you entertained more than you should.

“Were there fingerprints?” you ask.

She hands you the letter, which is wrapped in an envelope with newspaper and magazine letters carefully pasted on its front. “No. He probably used gloves.”

You carefully rip the hood of the envelope upwards and pull out the folded paper. You then read it out loud:

"To the police, agents, and detective teams—

"You won't ever find me. I float through the crowds unseen. I glide through the lake of circumstance like a swan. I bring her along, and though she's a kitten scared of water, she's mine now. Forever.

"It would take years before you're even able to save your precious little Suzy. It might not even happen at all.

"For that reason, although I abhor you more than you'd think for you all are built on a system of lies and corruption, I offer you this clue:

"I have flown to other nations where my flock calls for me in our garden. Will you be able to shoot me down?

"Soar with me,

"The One Who Dances, A Flame Eternal."

It must have taken hours to cut out all those magazine letters. That's one thing you'll commend the abductor for.

"'The One Who Dances,'" says Wonyoung in awe. She realizes that Chaewon was right about him being a dancer. For someone as young and new to this side of the profession, it’s like watching a thing straight out of a thriller movie.

"'The One Who Dances,'" Sakura repeats, but in a more sarcastic tone than the interested girl. She scoffs. There's a smile on her face that’s amused despite the situation. "Boo, what a fucking nerd. Did he take up human sciences or something?"

"That's not relevant," you tell her, avenging Chaewon (and defending yourself, too, because you also studied human sciences. That's not fair. You aren't a nerd.)

"I’m telling you, those essays they make those kids do rot their brains. Oh, and shut the fuck up. This is why you aren't a team leader."

Choose to ignore her. "I… I just don't get it," you say hopelessly.

Your hair is thin between your fingers as you crawl your digits into it. They're tense, just like you are. You've been tight and stressed through the whole investigation process, in fact, because you've rolled through every possible location: a school, a secret hideout, an old building. None of them are occupied by the criminals. None of them have Bae Suzy.

"We're getting there," replies Yunjin softly. She pats your shoulder and looks at your billboard of pictures and clues, too. "We already know Suzy's being held captive. We just don't know where."

She's lying. That's what friends are for: to lie to make you feel better in situations where it's impossible to be. In that case, Yunjin’s an excellent friend because you're getting abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. It's been one failed rescue mission after another, and it doesn't seem like the next one would be successful either.

"That's the problem, Yunjin." Twirling the black ocean of coffee with a teaspoon, you point to a newspaper clipping thumbtacked to the west side of the board. "Last time, they said the kidnapper took her to the USA because she was seen at the airport."

You rise from your swivel chair to tug out a printed screenshot of the CCTV at said place, and raise it for everyone to see. It shows the timestamps and Bae Suzy looking scared as she stares into the crowds.

"But then she went back to Dutchland," Sakura adds. 

“Correct.” Take another grayscale photo where Bae Suzy waits unwillingly at the airport, and tap on the sign at the very front of the line she's in that says the name of the country. "The sources are just as confused as we are."

Yunjin's furrowed brow quirks. She picks up the folder and goes through it. The papers reflect in her black-rimmed glasses. "Why would she be in Dutchland?"

"Because," jab a thumb into the picture of Suzy again, "Dutchland means something to the kidnapper. He wouldn't have gone with Suzy there for nothing. It risks everything."

Dutchland is the main setting of the case, actually. Everything begins and ends there. Everything you know about the kidnapper lies in the note he addressed to the police, issued by Minju earlier.

Wait—

Pull out the kidnapper's letter again. It's impossible to mistake it for anything else even through the mess on the table when it's smoother than the other scratch papers. The identifying marks are your fingerprints from pen ink branded onto the thin piece of parchment.

Open it, rolling it out on the table like a mantle. It's a mantle of clues you run your finger on. Flown to other nations… soar with me… our garden… The One Who Dances…

Your breath catches in your throat. "Chaewon," you say, looking up at her, “you’re a fucking genius.”

-

One Leaf Academy is a rich, well-established school for aspiring ballerinas and professional dancers alike. There can't be any other the abductor was referring to. There's only one particularly famous ballet academy in Dutchland, and since he's mentioned that he was the one who danced, this was it. The "garden" mentioned in the letter helped map it down to one location.

It looks good even from bird's eye view. You can see it properly without the pane of a window standing in the way. When you’re part of the squad, flights aren’t taken on planes. Instead, you use helicopters, government-owned and government-approved. 

It took only two days for Dutchland to issue an agreement to let you through the borders. They love Bae Suzy, too, apparently. They love her so much that the process went by quickly and you weren’t even stressed about it. There’s more things to stress about later on, but there’s no use in lamenting the future when the present is already good as is.

The green helicopter lands in the forest behind the school. It camouflages among the leaves and trees, giving you the freedom to hop out of it as noisily as you’d like. 

Twigs and branches snap under your feet as you do, and you have to catch Sakura to stifle her trip.

She slaps your hands away and brushes down her dress, as if your touch ruined it. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

"You're welcome, Sakura," you say, shrugging.

"Can you two please stop fighting?" Wonyoung asks. Her delicate voice, irresistible even to the hardhearted Sakura, ceases the argument before it could continue.

Pull the ridiculous blazer they made you wear on and look at the team. "Everyone ready? You know your jobs?" you ask. 

"I'm the mother," says Sakura spitefully. She glares down at the gradient dress assigned to her. "I'll pretend to take pictures and talk to you through the phone."

"Who's the baby daddy?"

"For once, I beg, shut the fuck—"

"Guys," Wonyoung repeats with a more pleading voice. 

Sigh. The fight was on you and it's up to you to end it as well. So, turn to: "Wonyoung?"

"I stay behind and watch out for suspicious people," she replies, back to her usual bright but professional self. You hope she doesn't lose the shimmer in her eyes years down the road of being on the investigative team. You'd hate for her to go through what you had to deal with.

"Yunjin?" 

"First round of backup with Chaewon unnie." Yunjin taps the gun hidden in the loop of her jeans. 

"Minju?"

The girl blushes. "Look for Bae Suzy," she says in a small voice. She looks pointedly at you. "And you?"

"Find the abductor." Look down at your shoes and wonder if they'd ever experience a trip that isn't about work. "Put an end to everything."

Everything's been fleshed out already. There are backup plans of backup plans, earpieces hidden on the sides of your head when the need to communicate comes. This is how it usually is with undercover work. 

You ponder, for a moment, and think if it would forever be like this: a game of cat and mouse, always led on but never going through. It just fuels your passion to find Bae Suzy once and for all.

"Remember, this is a recital," Sakura informs all of you. She points to the backdoors of the ballet academy, which suppresses classical music from the inside. "We have to fit in. Don't drop your cover."

She looks at you and narrows her eyes. “Even if somebody tempts you.”

-

"Operation One Leaf, launched immediately."

You enter the recital with the subtle earpiece strapped to your lobe and your steps light. You carry your posture well, and with the suit, draw looks from the other parents and from children, too. They're wondering if you're the owner of the place, or maybe you're a well-dressed teacher? A wealthy father? They'll never know because you won't dare tell them. 

Regard them with a cold yet polite nod and walk through the sides of the chairs. There's not much of the audience left, but you still have to play your part. 

You lock eyes with Minju, who steps into the recital wearing preppy yet casual wear. Mouth her good luck. She smiles, but proceeds into the backrooms without another word. Right. She plays a part in the mission, too. You shouldn't disturb her.

"You're here, agent," she says anyway, tapping onto her own earpiece. Her voice rings in your ear. "Break a leg."

Sakura gets in a little while later. As per her job, she pulls out the communication device disguised as a phone and lifts it to the air, "recording" the dancer on the stage. 

Blend in with the crowd as you will. You're a little embarrassed by the attention you draw with your suit since the whole thing is supposed to be undercover, but there's no going back now. You have to act the part.

So: stride confidently into the room, never looking down. Take the first seat you see at the very front and look at the performance.

That's kind of how it all started: a look. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, but yes, one single look keeps you hypnotized, not just because of the dance, but the girl who performs it.

She might as well be a swan in disguise. She's got this resilient, princess-like look on her face that's more alluring than it should be. Even her hair serves her royalty; it elegantly floats around her neck and shoulders as she prances and twists.

The uniform, a long-sleeved blouse finished off with a flattering tie and a flowing skirt, doesn't hide her gracefulness. She moves in it as if she were the swan lake herself. Her movements are as fluid as can be. Each rush and lift of her leg guarantees an upskirted moment in which you're allowed to bask in the beauty of her legs and the fullness of her butt, and you know you shouldn't look. You're better than that; you shouldn't let a young, pretty girl stall your job, but there you are, front seat at a recital for professional senior high ballerinas, hypnotized by a ballerina's dance.

You have to snap out of it. You have better and more important things to do than mentally undress a pretty dancer, yet your eyes are glued on her. It's like your vision was programmed to catch every twirl and glide she makes across the platform, to relish the poke of her chest through the blouse that's a little too small, to yearn for her.

The music is just a dreamful background to her. You're dazed. Hypnotized. Locked into a passive position because of her. 

You want this ballerina. You can't do anything but look and want and long.

It's almost heartbreaking when her performance ends. She bows deeply, and you swear she's fired you a wink right before she rises up again. 

You have to get to know her. You want to ask her out, maybe even escalate things further on the first date if she’s willing. But you have a mission to do. The squad and saving Bae Suzy come first.

Regretfully, you stand from the monobloc chair and turn your heel. But then there she is, dressed in perfection and uniform, and looking prettier up close when she shouldn't be that close but she is close and you swear one more centimeter closer and you'd be closed up to her lips.

"Hi," she says, casually. 

That deep voice, fuck.

Wait, when did she get here? 

"I, uh, hi? Wait, how did you… why are you—"

"Please." She rolls her eyes, sets a hand on her tiny pinch of a waist. "Did you think you weren't obvious staring me down?"

"Well, uh—"

(What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you stuttering and stammering and stumbling over your words like you aren't more mature and older than her? How could she say that to you and disregard that fact? 

You couldn't be assed to know, but she's intimidating you in a whole different way: making you feel like the platform she dances on by acting sweet but not too sweet, flirty but not over the top. That's what you know, but here's the problem: you have little idea what to do.)

"Calm down," she says. She's a tall girl, but smaller enough to smooth down your blazer and close it softly around your chest. Her eyes are enticing. "I'm just playing with you." 

Swallow. Try to collect your composure back into a neat pile, but it overflows and ceases. "Excuse me," you say, voice shaking, "do I know you?" 

She pushes out her pink bottom lip, bites it, then shakes her head. "It's Kazuha, if that rings a bell."

"If I didn't know your name, Kazuha," you say, "I'd say I recognize you from somewhere."

"You do?"

"Yeah." The more you talk, the more she looks like Bae Suzy. "You, y-you kind of look like someone I'm looking for."

Kazuha guides you with a hand around your wrist and walks you to the backroom. You have no sense of direction when your eyes are sealed onto her gorgeous face, perfect with their brown eyes and sculpted nose. It's a tour guide to danger, and you don't even know that you're hiking.

"Is she your wife?" She rubs the back of your hand with a thumb, looking at you with such authentic concern that you almost fall for it. Almost. "Girlfriend?"

"No." Breathe through your nose. "Just someone I have to look for."

Slam. The door shuts, and now you're effectively pinned upon its wood like a poster. Amazing how a woman smaller than you could do you like that: have you weak at your knees as she keeps you on the flat of the door, stares you down with no hatred in her eyes, but sultriness. You don't know how you pick up all those clues when she's not speaking, but Kazuha, as you come to find out, isn't like any other girl. She's known her whole life to speak through her body, and the message from her hands pushing you into a flattened position and her leg propped next to your hip is clear.

You’re not sure if you want to open her note and read it.

"Tell me," Kazuha says, chastely, although her actions are anything but, "am I as hot as her?"

Your eyes widen. It's utterly unprofessional; you as an agent shouldn't even begin to engage in a conversation about how the victim's sexually attractive when she might be in the most vulnerable place right now.

Stutter again. Broken words become a new language you're fluent in, and might as well be a native speaker of with how much Kazuha learned you into it. You have her slim, hot body pressed up against yours to thank, and the look in her eyes. The tilt of her pretty little head. Her subtle, knowing smirk.

"I can't talk about that with you," you say, because it's true—you can't. You have a mission to do and your morals to keep.

"Sure you can," Kazuha counters. Her eyes glimmer. "I'm the top student in One Leaf. They basically made me a star when they knew that my name meant 'one leaf,' too. Isn't that funny?"

"What's your point here?"

"The point is," she says, leveling your gaze, "if I fuck you right here in this room, they wouldn't give a damn."

She has a hold of your hands, imprisoning them and trapping them on the slopes of her sizable chest. Your breath hooks on nothing and is released incompletely. Kazuha's breasts are so soft, not the biggest but fill your hands up so well that you'd take them over any other pair. 

Have to resist the voice inside you telling you to squeeze. "What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Tell me, what do men like you want?" 

Kazuha curls your hand into her flesh so that she's making you squeeze—

"Tits—" 

—then leads it below her pleated skirt, lets it cup the globes and touch places that should otherwise be left untouched—

"—or ass?"

Both are tastes of heaven. The two choices are soft yet alluring. But you really shouldn't, though you want to rip that skirt clean off her legs and spank her till her cheeks are red. She deserves that for tempting you, for being such a bad girl when she's otherwise excellent at being a ballerina.

"I can't talk to you about that," you have to repeat. But it sounds more like you're convincing yourself rather than her. 

Oh, and she's far from being budged. 

Kazuha pulls you by the tie and drags you to the nearest monobloc chair. There are plenty of other seats just like that here in the utility room, but she chooses to throw a beautiful, toned leg over each side of your hips and sit on your lap instead. Her ass snuggles your crotch and her legs keep you trapped onto the chair.

"What about now?" she asks. 

Then her hips start to sway—it's another coax for you to drag out of your shell and do what you shouldn't. It's another dance besides ballet that she knows well, and you can tell from how her thighs flex and bounce underneath your touch, she's very good at it. 

"K-Kazuha… fuck—"

"Come on." She's straight up dry humping you, dragging her perfect pussy up and down your growing erection. Her eyes and mouth both pose a challenge: "Tell me I should stop. Tell me you want to do anything that isn't to fuck me."

Kazuha rubs herself on you. She uses your clothed cock as a personal toy for a few delicious seconds, then rises from your lap to unbutton her blouse. One by one, they undo themselves and the pale skin of her chest is revealed. There's her small cleavage. A collarbone carved from perfection. Her beautiful chest. Too much is what it is, yet your perverted self can't stop gawking.

You remember Sakura's words earlier. She told you not to drop your cover, not to get tempted. You dislike Sakura, yet it's her warning that ignites your hesitation. She suspected that you'd fall like this. She was only trying to hold you back.

"Well? What's gonna happen then?" Kazuha crosses her arms. They frame the underside of her tits, a perfect picture. "Do you want to go out there and find some stupid girl or fuck the one on your lap? What's it gonna be, daddy?"

You're not a daddy kink type of person. In fact, you don't really have that much of a sex drive. Intercourse and the like are things you have no time for when your job is like this, much less a discovery of a daddy kink.

So why is your dick so much harder now that she's said it?

Why are your hands on her hips?

Why are you carrying Kazuha's lithe form and placing her right on a desk?

Why are you kissing her?

When your lips and hers meet, an apocalypse is birthed. An apocalypse of sex, hunger, and desire breaks out. Your eyes are closed, yet your hands and Kazuha's own know exactly where to touch and hold. She unbuckles your belt and pulls down your pants. You slide your greedy fingers over Kazuha's perfect buttcheeks. Tug off the ridiculous shorts that saved her performance from being pornographic. Rip off the panties that are sticky with need.

"Oh, ohhh, you like that?" Kazuha moans while you kiss her neck and chest. Don't bother to rip off the uniform when it looks incredibly sexy on her fit body. "You like me calling you that, daddy?"

"Quiet. We're making this quick."

"So you do want to fuck me."

Thighs touch your lips when you make your way down. Or is it the other way around? Whatever, the point is that Kazuha's thighs are a delicacy. They're full yet sculpted and would look great looped around your head. Luckily, you find that the sopped core between them is more delicious.

Lick a line from the bottom of her slit right up to her bundle of nerves. "Who says I want to fuck you?"

"D-daddy!" Kazuha gasps, covering her mouth. 

"You're quick to call me that." You kiss the insides of thighs then start trailing your tongue around her clit. On top of it. Under it. Each side is subject to immense pleasure. "Where's the shame, little dancer?" 

"Right on with the nicknames." 

You splay Kazuha's pink lips and stick your tongue in between them. Her hips buckle forward. Her eyes are all wide and eager and needy, and it takes a few more thrusts of your tongue to have them shut. 

However, it doesn't take a lot for Kazuha to moan. Her voice is tinged with deep tones, and they pronounce out prolonged cries as you toy her cunt with your tongue. Her thighs threaten to crush your head, but, if anything, you'd welcome it. You're happy to be trapped in between her luscious legs and keep the feminine scent of her pussy right up close. Her juices could be your water, the food would be her core itself—you're already eating it like a meal anyway.

"Of course. If you want to play games, I'll give in." Toy with her clit, then proceed to give it harsh sucks and slurps that her lower body spasms. "I'm just playing along."

Kazuha bites on a bated breath and beats the table with a bent hand. "What if I'm not playing around, daddy?" 

"Hm?"

"What if, fuck, I'm not playing around?" She pushes you deeper between her legs and wraps them around your head. She toys with the sides of your ears. "Maybe I like fucking people who obviously shouldn't be doing it. Maybe I like calling a hot man daddy. It just feels so good for me. Did you ever think about that?"

And maybe you like fucking a girl who's a hindrance to your mission. Maybe you like eating out her wet cunt, driving your tongue deeper into the soaked fuckhole, and doing everything you wanted to do to her when she was onstage. 

But all of that is just one maybe after another. As far as you're concerned, you don't actually like doing it, yet when Kazuha whines and squirms like that, your mind is quickly changed.

Self-discovery, you guess.

"So do it," you challenge her. Look up at her while you quickly rub her clit. "Call me daddy."

"Daddy, hngnnn, fuck, daddy!" 

Kazuha's pussy creates the most obscene wet sounds. Your index finger doesn't rest; it fires away at her clit, her most sensitive spot, and urges it to become more swollen. More sensitive. More desperate.

Push her other leg up for more access. As you expected, it effortlessly rises. Who knew that her years of dancing as a professional ballerina would translate well when eating her pussy? You love how her thigh quivers and tries to stay upward while you eat her out. That's one thing ballet didn't teach her: to stay stabilized when there's a tongue and finger assaulting her center.

"Are you usually this wet, Kazuha? After you dance out there with your legs and thighs out for everyone to see?" 

"No, no, I'm not wet! You're, hnnn, daddy," her eyes lose focus and she rolls her head back, mouth gaped, "oh, fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum!"

Start to jack yourself off to the unholy, R-18 scene of Kazuha approaching orgasm. Is it a known thing that ballerinas are the most beautiful when they cum? If not, it should be, for Kazuha's blissful face—eyes shut, mouth wide with moans—and her shaking legs enchant you. They draw you into her and have you rubbing and tapping at her core to coax out more euphoric reactions from her. 

Slip your fingers inside her. Be greeted with a fountain of liquid and scent. Appreciate how tight she is when it's only your fingers in her.

"God, daddy, not there!" Kazuha screams. Have to dodge a few times for her kicking and flailing legs to miss your face. "I'm so sensitive there, oh no, you can't—oh, fuck—daddy!"

Her deep voice thrills your erection, and you could have cum on the spot with her if you were more focused on rubbing her orgasm out. A bit of squirt stains your fingers, but you end up getting more stains of girl cum on yourself as you go on fingering and rubbing. 

Kazuha rubs her own nipples as she settles down from her high. "That, that was—daddy—"

You hush her. There's no time to talk. You unravel Kazuha's tie and wrap the little gray thing around her wrists. You knot them tightly after you wring her arms behind her back. She watches on with confusion, wondering why you're suddenly being so horny. 

If she asked, you'd explain that it's because of her. Who else could be the culprit when she's there with her incredible thighs and perfect, fuckable body? When she's the feistiest little thing who just turns out to crumble if the right guy crosses her? Everything about Kazuha seems to be designed and fabricated to tempt you, and look at you giving in.

"You're tying me up, daddy?" she asks, tone varying between disappointment and excitement.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She's so cute, really—she closes up to you with the biggest eyes of hurt and want, with her slim lips curved downwards into a pout. "You have to fuck me," she says, like it's a promise you made that she's been waiting on to be granted for a while. "It's not fair. You can't even fuck well, daddy, and you're tying me up? You must be joking."

Scoff. "I wasn't so bad at fucking when I ate your pussy."

"I was just moaning to make you happy." Kazuha leans forward, presenting her exposed cleavage and face that looks otherwise innocent besides the smirk. "I love making big handsome daddies like you happy."

Her words and cutesy tone send chills down your spine. She's so attractive that it's becoming scary, even when she's bound by the hands. 

"Don't you feel bad, daddy?" she asks with a timely lull of her head to the side. "You're giving your whole career away to fuck me. You're supposed to be doing something else, aren't you? Something other than fucking me? So why are you here?"

Her words hit too close to home. "You don't know anything about me, Kazuha." 

"Sure I do."

"Turn around."

"Make me. Holy shit, daddy, you have such a big cock, but you're so pathetic. You didn't expect to fuck a girl tonight, did you? But you saw me and thought about it. And now that I've figured you out, you got mad. Why's it the fault of a good little girl like me that you're doing the wrong thing? Maybe it's because you know you're such a bad person, a bad guy—"

You grab her and push her stomach down on the table. Your rod slips inside the ballerina, and she breaks.

And it's everything you've ever wanted: she's hot and tight and wet around you. Her bouncy ass lives up to its description as you pump at a rapid fire pace inside her. Her pussy's so tight that it feels like it's pinching you to keep you inside, and you do exactly that. You'd never want to be anywhere else.

But you still make sure to pull out to let your length breathe, then submerge them into the tightness of her vagina again. Her lips cling to your dick. They don't want you to be anywhere else either. 

“Say you’re sorry.”

"S-sorry, daddy!" she's quick to say. A broken mirror lies across the table, and from there you can see the expressions of winces and moans on her beautiful face.

"Fucking mean it." 

"Kazu… ha, Kazuha… Kazuha's sorry, daddy!"

There's a certain power you impel on this thrust specifically, and it sends her legs buckling. Place a hand on her bound wrists to keep her in place just like she did when she had you trapped to the door.

Frankly, you did it for the chance to slap her cheeks. Spank one and it jiggles beautifully. Spank the other and her hole tightens. Make it a point of yours to spank there particularly, all while keeping the unyielding quality of her hole. It's how you keep the brat that is Kazuha on a leash.

"Daddy, daddy, fuck!" she screams. "You're so, so good, please keep fucking me!"

"Contradicting yourself." Pull out, much to her disappointment, and slide your cock up and down in the plateau of her asscheeks. The flesh of her ass hugs you. 

"Why'd you pull out, daddy?" Kazuha asks. She looks back at you and pleads with the shimmer in her eyes.

"I wanted to see if this ass is as soft as it looks."

For a few blissful moments you fuck Kazuha's ass cheeks, but never really entering her puckered pink hole. It causes her to whine and pout. It's impossible to not give in to such a pretty face, so you continue for a few seconds, letting the pleasure entice your cock to a full solidness, then pause.

"Are you a good girl, Kazuha?" Rub her pussy then bring your slick digits to her mouth. 

Kazuha licks them clean and nods repeatedly. If you weren't so focused on riling her up, you'd go back to the moment your squad nodded their heads as you went over the mission plan. "Yesss, daddy."

"So much you'd let me fuck this perfect pussy till I'm spent?"

"Yes!"

Twist Kazuha around and prop her on the desk. Then, you tear her blouse. Buttons soar in the air to make way for her full, ab-ridden midriff to be exposed. Her tiny slutty waist has your mouth agape. Her small breasts peek through her black lace bra.

"And let me cum all over this midriff?" you ask, staking the deal higher.

"Oh, what's that?" Kazuha smirks. "Is little old daddy scared to breed me?"

Her character when she's not being fucked confuses you just as much as it arouses you. She looks way better when she's being a submissive little dancer, though.

"Bad girls don't get to be bred."

Push inside her. Yes, you're doing this again. Kazuha's abs flex, and the breaths she takes and releases become more strained. 

As you pound her, she looks at you with this face that's lost any elegance from dancing. It's looking like she's slightly sleepy with pleasure, like she wanted to lay there while she let you have your way with her. And you'd be glad to—her ripped uniform and pretty legs would spur you on in no time.

You grab her ass and start dragging her to yourself, too, to fill her deeper. It works; your tip makes it to her womb and right then and there you're tempted to be hypocritical and breed her anyway. You'd love to imagine how her face basked in pleasure would look when you fill her with your load. You'd love to see her pull the weight of being bred well and dance out there with no care that your semen's rolling down her soft legs. 

But she doesn't deserve it.

"Pleaaaase, I'll be so good!" she says. Her hands end up on your shoulders and she's kissing you everywhere. "I'll be a good girl, daddy, just fffucking fill me up. I'll never… I'll be…. oh!"

You're going too fast. Your sudden burst of energy leaves her on the edge. On the wall, to be more precise, because you're ruining and rearranging her insides so well that she's knocked onto the walls again and again. 

"Daddy…" 

Kazuha winces. Moans. C-cries? She doesn't know what to do. Her legs feel hot and she feels like she's going to burst anytime soon. Your cock's impaling her in all the right ways, grazing her cervix and G-spot but also parting her walls just so that the pain transforms into pleasure. "Gonna cum now, daddy, please let me—oh, please—"

The last word comes out wrung in between pitches. Kazuha shudders and squeals. The pleasure's overwhelming her so much that she's let go of her strength. Her legs feel too weak. Her throat, although you haven't fucked it, is sore. Then you're painting her abs, white fluid against and above and over white skin, and she immediately fingers some of your release and pushes a digit inside herself. She's a resourceful girl besides being an excellent ballerina. Good to know.

"You really didn't breed me, daddy?" she asks sadly.

You regret not doing so seeing the hopeless look on her face. "Sorry, but I've got to—"

Your eyes size up to planets.

—"go."

It's only at the finish of your sentence that you realize that you're right. You do have to go. Why are you here when you have a mission to find the abductor? 

"Shit, shit, shit!" Pull your pants up and fix your blazer. It's cool inside the utility room, but your blood's run cold. "I have to go, Kazuha. I—"

Kazuha rolls her eyes. "Fix your earpiece first, daddy. You're a mess."

You blindly follow her words before you even suspect why she knew about the earpiece, or why it's off. After you tap on it, you hear the following, haunting words:

"Mission aborted. Mission aborted. We've been betrayed."

"No, no, no." You shake your head over and over. You can’t believe that was happening and you missed out on assisting your teammates out. Speak through the piece in a shaken voice, "What's going on? Yunjin? Yunjin, what's going on?"

"What the fuck?" she says, obviously infuriated. "I've been trying to reach you, agent! Where the hell are you?"

Look around. "Uh… I met a girl. We're in the back."

"Fuck. What's her name?"

"Kazuha."

Yunjin's voice reaches an alarm you've never heard from her. "Get the fuck out of there, agent! Get away from her, kill her, I don't give a fuck, just run!"

"B-but why?" 

"The kidnapper's not a 'him,' she's a 'she'! It's a trap!"

As Yunjin's voice echoes from your earpiece in the small room, Kazuha's creepy smile grows. 

"Yunjin," flash a look at the ballerina, who’s still smiling, then at the ceiling, "I don't understand."

"Get your fucking head in the game. 'The One Who Dances', agent. 'One Leaf'! The answer was right in our face, it's her!" Yunjin's practically shouting now. It deafens you, but you hear every word loud and clear. "She impersonated Bae Suzy at the airport, agent. The ‘cat’ in the letter wasn’t about Suzy, it’s about Sakura! She betrayed us!”

You look at Kazuha, and suddenly her smile isn’t as alluring as it was when you were fucking her. It speaks of an impending doom. It tells you that you should really run, but there wouldn’t be much change if you did because she’d still catch you. You’d still end up dead.

Suddenly, all the pieces to the story that played behind the scenes fall into place. They connect too well for it to be false. You never questioned once why Sakura led you in each of the operations, and now it’s clear why she did: she was holding you back from saving Suzy. There was a reason why she was team leader. How did you not catch it?

And Kazuha… she didn’t come up to you just because she wanted to, did she? She had a partner and a purpose. You were searching for the culprit ever since you stepped foot into the academy. It didn’t hit you once that you might be fucking her. 

Kazuha takes a few steps towards you and lays her forehead into your chest. “You’re not mad, are you, daddy?”

How did her tie suddenly disappear from her wrists?

[necstasy]

paul atreides x bene gesserit reader? 👀 pretty please

slight manipulation?; bene gesserit reader; &. PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

"have you mastered it yet?"

you know what the atreides son is speaking of. the voice, one of the most difficult parts of the bene gesserit training. for a second, you wonder how he knows of the technique. and then you remember his mother, a woman the reverend mother has spoken highly of during your training sessions, despite her defiance.

your eyes watch you and paul's hands as you go to speak. they hang in suspended air off to the side of you both, fingertips touching lightly as paul leads your hands up, down, and to either side. he's creating a box, you realize. it's a soothing and mesmerizing dance.

"no. not yet."

paul hums. his free hand moves from behind your back to your waist.

"it's difficult." it's not a question, he speaks from experience. your eyebrows furrow. you have the urge to ask him how exactly he knows. you want to know if he is being trained in the ways of the bene gesserit, something a man has never been privy to.

but so much else is already sacred in this space. in the dead of night, in your guest quarters, a space that you should not be sharing with the only son of your host for the next week. but it was only natural that you and paul found each other. there was a pull drawing you towards him since you got off the ship. the order of events surely would have driven you two together in an intimate space sooner or later.

"it is," you agree after a moment.

paul shuffles just a bit closer to you. the bend in your elbow increases as your bodies get closer. paul's hand flexes as he bunches the dark fabric of your nightgown in his hands, pulling you just a hair closer. you shouldn't be this close to him. you've never been this close to a man before.

the energy is electrifying.

it buzzes through the air, pulsating between you both to the beat of your heart. you try to call on your learnings. you try to calm your heart in the most simple human ways, the ways your mother taught you before the reverend mother did.

paul licks his lips before he responds again. he takes a moment, he breathes, and you pull your eyes away from your hands to look at paul. the glowglobe hovering just behind you illuminates his face perfectly. it casts shadows where his curls lay over his forehead, it deepens the impressive hollow of his cheekbones. you can see how long his eyelashes are, and how colorful his eyes are. you're hyper-aware of the moles dotting his face, and the scar he has in his cheek.

you're even closer than you thought, but you like it.

"i found that ... pleasure can help you."

your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline before they fall back to their resting place and push together instead.

"pleasure?"

paul nods.

"how do you mean, my lord?"

his lips quirk up at the honorific and you suddenly feel silly for using it. paul doesn't mention it, though.

"when i'm alone in my room at night, in my own company—" the image enters your brain before you can fight it. paul on his back, his hand below his waist, his eyes heavy lidded and his breath even heavier. you swallow and clear your throat.

"it's like i can feel it wanting to come out of me. and the mornings after, when my mother makes me use it, it's easier."

you don't know how much truth exists in his words, and his suggestion, even if it has yet to be blantantly placed in front of you, is dangerous. it's stupid and risky. and yet, you find yourself drawn to it. that same pull that brought you to paul is bringing you to wanting him to lay out his invitation.

he does soon after.

"do you want to try it?"

you do. you really, really do.

"how would we do it?"

paul pulls you even closer to him and now your chests are touching. he's fighting back a smile, it's obvious in the way the skin around his lips dimples for a second before returning to neutrality. when he speaks, it's harder for him to hide it.

"i don't have to touch you if you don't want me to."

"i want you to." the admission slips from your mouth so quickly and so easily. it's a little embarrassing. your skin warms.

paul takes a moment. he stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth between yours. "okay," he finally says. his smile takes over the lower half of his face. "then i can touch you, and you have to focus, okay?"

you nod.

paul slinks his hand up your back, over your shoulder, and cups your cheek. he intertwines your fingers, your hands still suspended in the air, and he moves just a bit closer until his lips finally lay onto yours.

[trippygalaxy]

My Opinion on the LU Boys DND Classes

as a DM of 3 years and a enjoyer of dnd for MUCH LONGER, i have so sososos many thoughts on what classes the boys would be. This will also include subclasses CAUSE ITS MY POST AND IMMA DO WHAT I WANT! /LH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!

Time -> Fighter, Eldritch Knight

Twilight -> Barbarian, Path of the Ancestral Guardian

Warriors -> Fighter, Battle Master

Sky -> Paladin, Oath of Devotion

Wild -> Ranger, Gloomstalker

Legend -> Wizard, Bladesinging

Hyrule -> Warlock, The Celestial

Four -> Fighter, Echo Knight

Wind -> Rogue, Swashbuckler

Taglist cause I know somepeople were interested! @catreginae @next-hero-in-line @unexpectedstormy @nancyheart11 @majorproblems77 @ladye-zelda @ajscico @mishwanders @violetregrets1837 @1dragon-mustard1

Under the cut will be explanations as to why i picked these classes! (as well as the official descriptions of the subclasses for context)

Time, The Eldritch Knight

Subclass Description; They focus their study on two of the eight schools of magic: abjuration and evocation. Abjuration spells grant an Eldritch Knight additional protection in battle, and evocation spells deal damage to many foes at once, extending the fighter's reach in combat. These knights learn a comparatively small number of spells, committing them to memory instead of keeping them in a spellbook.

--

Fighter is a go to for all the boys, but I think Time is a perfect fit for the class as he is shown time and time again to be a frontline fighter. He's quick to draw his sword and quicker to swing it.

Though Time is not a heavy magic user in the LU comics, he is known to have quite a few spells/magical abilities in his games and comics! Many of these abilities are defensive or to deal with large 'groups' of enemies at once, which is what Abjuration and Evocation spells are used for -respectively. The Class is still heavily rooted in melee rather than magic -like Time- but the magic they do use is to add a extra kick to their punch.

There are also abilities that make the Eldritch knight much harder (if not impossible) to disarm!

In higher levels, the subclasses allows the user to be more effective and quick with their spell casting who their actions are free for melee attacks, which would be a perfect fit for the quick and preciseness Time uses in battle.

Twilight, The Barbarian of Ancestral Guardians

Subclass description; Some barbarians hail from cultures that revere their ancestors. These tribes teach that the warriors of the past linger in the world as mighty spirits, who can guide and protect the living. When a barbarian who follows this path rages, the barbarian contacts the spirit world and calls on these guardian spirits for aid.

--

Barbarian is a common pick for Twilight as it is the most strength based class and while I agree with it always never quite sat right with me due to the violence the class is stereotyped to lean towards.

The subclass itself was picked because I connected it with not only the Hero's Shade but also the light spirits that Twilight encounters on his journey. Its very much a spirit heavy class that deals with a lot of themes regarding 'guardian' like figures which fit perfectly for the 'guardian' spirits Twilight runs into -and is trained by- during his adventure. I also choose this one because of how defensive it is, especially when it comes to protecting others!

Twilight is a protector, in the LU comics, in his games, in his manga, he is shown time and time again to protect others so to have a subclass to reflect his protective nature is a perfect match for his character!

Warriors, the Battle Master

Subclass Description; Those who emulate the archetypal Battle Master employ martial techniques passed down through generations. To a Battle Master, combat is an academic field, sometimes including subjects beyond battle such as weaponsmithing and calligraphy. Not every fighter absorbs the lessons of history, theory, and artistry that are reflected in the Battle Master archetype, but those who do are well-rounded fighters of great skill and knowledge.

--

Another fighter! Like I said for Time, this class is very much a 'go-to' class for any and all of the LU boys! But warriors fits so well for this class, a undeterred and seemingly never ending energy in a fight, Fighter fits perfectly!

I think that we all can agree that Warriors is one of the top 3 swordsmen in the group, his way with his sword is unlike the others as he holds an elegance and swiftness that can be rivalled by very few. The Battle Master subclass is built upon the idea of 'Yeah, you can try to hit me but get ready for your shit to get rocked.' It is about countering, using the enemies weaknesses to your gain and getting your hits in whenever you can.

A Captain in a war would be a battle master without a doubt!

Sky, Paladin of Devotion

Subclass description; --They hold themselves to the highest standards of conduct, and some, for better or worse, hold the rest of the world to the same standards. Many who swear this oath are devoted to gods of law and good and use their gods' tenets as the measure of their devotion. They hold angels – the perfect servants of good – as their ideals, and incorporate images of angelic wings into their helmets or coats of arms.

--

Is...Is this a surprise to anyone? A little cliche yes, but how can you blame me when it suits him so well!

First, Divine smite? PERFECT for the Skyward Strike, without a doubt and I don't think theres anything that could fit it so well! A mighty strike blessed with divine power and -depending on what spell/ability- can shed a great amount of light and cause lightning/thunder to burst from the strike! There is also abilities with the subclass that makes your weapon a beacon of light for a short period of time

Sky is devoted to many things. But its obvious hes devoted to his Zelda -the reincarnation of Hyila, a goddess- so much so that before he knew of her divine spirit he was willing to head into a world unknown just to look for her. He is so devoted to her and Skyloft that he fought a GOD to keep everyone he loved safe and sound.

Wild, The Gloom Stalker

Subclass description; Gloom stalkers are at home in the darkest places: deep under the earth, in gloomy alleyways, in primeval forests, and wherever else the light dims. Most folk enter such places with trepidation, but a gloom stalker ventures boldly into the darkness, seeking to ambush threats before they can reach the broader world.--

--

Since TOTK I feel like this would be fitting for the hero to be proficient in fighting in the darken places of the world. The name of the subclass is also suits him considering a huge part of the game -The Gloom- is apart of this class in a way.

Ranger is a great class for Wild, it is the definition of a hunter, an explorer, one that finds there own path in the wildness. Wild, though seen to get lost in the comics, has a great understanding of his Hyrule and its geographic locations and terrain, both surface and depths. He is also a great archer, and a even better hunter!

The hero is a survivor of the wilds, and Rangers are the best suited to do such a thing

Legend, The BladeSinger

Subclass Description: Bladesingers master a tradition of wizardry that incorporates swordplay and dance. In combat, a bladesinger uses a series of intricate, elegant maneuvers that fend off harm and allow the bladesinger to channel magic into devastating attacks and a cunning defense.

----

Legend is one of the more magically inclined Heros, and though thats mostly through his artifacts and magic items that doesn’t take away the fact that the hero has a broad knowledge when it came to magic.

I picked bladesinging specifically because while it’s main focus is magic it still uses the sword and it’s connection to ones-self. Legend is still a fighter at heart so i don’t think he would toss away those skills in this situation. He is shown in a few panels to have some sort of connection/bond to the mastersword and likely his own weapon, so it was important for me to somehow intertwine his two biggest skills together.

And a bit selfishly, i think he would look very very cool dancing around with his sword-

Hyrule, The Holy Warlock

Subclass description: Your patron is a powerful being of the Upper Planes. You have bound yourself to an ancient empyrean, solar, ki-rin, unicorn, or other entity that resides in the planes of everlasting bliss.

---

I know most people would make Hyrule either a wizard or nature based magic user but in all fairness, I dont think Hyrule is one to learn magic by the traditional means (reading/studying it). This isn’t to say the kid isn’t capable of doing so, but with the whole “hero of Hyila,” you’d think there would be a bit more a divine connection there.

Warlocks make deals, pacts, with some sort of higher being for their magic intentionally or not and Hyila ,a holy celestial, being fits perfectly to be his patron. The magic granted to a celestial warlock is based on a clerics abilities, healing, protecting from the undead and fiends, lighting a path etc. Warlocks also are also a little more focused on melee/combat and if picking the right pact boon, can have a special relationship/connect to their sword!

Four, The Echo Knight

Subclass description: Echo knights harness fading shades of unrealized timelines, pulling a shadowy duplicate of themself called an "echo" to fight by their side. The echoes are somewhat fragile, but the echo knight can summon another at any time.

--

Okayokayokay— HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE!!!

One of the echo knight’s main abilities is being able to make shadowy versions of themselves to fight alongside them in a battle. These shadows or ‘echoes’ are an extension of the person’s form/soul and are able to communicate and aid the original knight. They are able to project their consciousness into these shadows to get the information they have seen/witness and collects it all once they all fuse back together.

TELL ME THAT AINT PERFECT FOR FOUR!!!

Wind, The Swashbuckler

Subclass Description: You focus your training on the art of the blade, relying on speed, elegance, and charm in equal parts. While some warriors are brutes clad in heavy armor, your method of fighting looks almost like a performance. Duelists and pirates typically belong to this archetype. A Swashbuckler excels in single combat, and can fight with two weapons while safely darting away from an opponent.

--

….i feel like this is pretty straightforward as to why i picked this for Wind.

Wind, shown to be quite a sneaky Link in his games, is probably the most rogue like in the Chain. He’s a strong kid, but he specializes in quick strikes and keeping his opponents on their toes and unexpecting. He is also, very clearly, a pirate! So it isn’t surprising for the hero to have one of (if not the only) pirate theme-d subclass! The class is very agile, but the subclass specifically is focused on disarming, ‘backstabbing’ and overall being sneaky in plain sight!

And thought i do think this is a great fit for the hero, i could also see him as a Storm sorcerer, which was my second pick!

UHHHH! YEAH THATS IS! if you're reading this, thank you so much for listening to me ramble and if you have any ideas/thoughts of your own i would LOVE to hear them!!!

[irisintheafterglow]

iris is missing bachira again, what else is new!!

in the limited amount of time you'd spent with bachira meguru, you learned that, with the exception of soccer, his attention span was shorter than a toddler's.

he was always fiddling with something at the outskirts of your vision, spinning a pencil or rolling a rectangular eraser back and forth. a closer look revealed an assortment of little drawings at the corners and headings of his notebook pages: little butterflies, trees, flowers, rockets, fish, and anything more you could possibly think of. you sat in the seat closest to the aisle where the teacher walked through during worktimes, and you developed the habit of tapping his side of the lab table when she started getting too close. bachira would then flip to whatever page he was supposed to be completing and put on the appearance of working hard, murmuring his gratitude when the teacher passed.

it was during a lecture about aquatic ecosystems when the first bachira doodle swam its way into your notebook. you didn't notice it at first, too focused on the presentation to see his hand quickly scribble on your paper before retreating like nothing happened. but, when you finally had a second to look down and see a fish swimming next to a crudely drawn piece of coral, the tiniest smile when you looked at bachira's face was a dead giveaway. you added your own stalk of seaweed to the picture and his smile only grew larger when you slid the paper over to show him.

over time, drawings began to include questions, questions turned to full messages, and full messages became gossip and complaints that were exchanged without any spoken words. his favorite thing to scribble was we won the game, btw :D because you never failed to giggle at his terribly drawn soccer ball next to the smiley face. his most frequently asked question, however, was a tossup between what tf are we learning and i'm so hungry. he was a distraction in class, yes, but a welcome one when you needed someone to lighten a dark mood.

you found that his bored tendencies rubbed off on you, as you were itching to write something one day when the teacher had explicitly instructed you to watch the documentary without taking notes. bachira knew that you had a hard time remembering things if you didn't write them down, and his solution startled you.

"it's okay, just write on me!" he beamed at you as he whispered over the movie playing on the projector. "you let me do it all the time, so let me return the favor."

"i let you do it because none of your pens are permanent, bachira. it's also just doodles, not full sentences," you point out, a blister starting to form on the inside of your fingers as you spin your pen. "mine are a little harder to wash off, trust me."

"as long as you don't draw a dick on my face, i really don't care," he shrugs and you scoff as he's rolling up his sleeve and presenting you his blank forearm. "your canvas awaits." seeing the hesitancy on your face, he nods encouragingly and takes the liberty of drawing a very shaky smiley face on the side of his thumb. "your turn!"

for the remainder of class, bachira's chin rests in his palm with his elbow propped on the table, his other arm extended to you as you jot down whatever you want to remember for later. bachira watches you more than he does the video, memorizing the way you bite your tongue when you're thinking and the way your eyes light up when you figure out how to paraphrase a thought. it's endearing and an odd fluttering feeling occurs in his chest as you look over at him with a grateful smile. at the end of the period, you draw a heart on the inside of his wrist before rushing off to your next subject, still expressing your thanks as you push in your chair.

later, bachira brushes off his teammates when they ask why he has pen stains all over his arm; he says he didn't have time to scrub it before the game.

---

the blue lock players begin to notice an odd habit of bachira's, a sort of ritual right before every match. he rolls up his uniform's long-sleeve until just enough of his wrist is showing, and draws something on the inside of his wrist. with the cap of the marker between his teeth, bachira obviously struggles to draw with his non-dominant hand but declines assistance when isagi offers.

when he kisses the heart on the inside of his wrist before scoring every goal, he hopes that you can feel it's for you, with a promise that he'll be back to you soon.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)