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warabidakihime · 11 months

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Between Buzzer Beaters and Love Letters

Characters: Akashi Seijuro x Reader Synopsis: Love is like a perfectly executed buzzer beater, defying the odds and capturing hearts in the most unexpected moments. It's a love letter penned with the ink of the soul, expressing emotions that words alone can't convey. Between buzzer beaters and love letters, our hearts dance to the rhythm of affection, reminding us that love is a game worth playing and a story worth writing.

A/N: believe me when i say that i daydream about this back in college lol so many reactors on youtube are watching knb, so my sparks for the show returned at full power. enjoy!

In the aftermath of Seirin's victory at the Winter Cup finals, the basketball court buzzed with electric energy. The crowd erupted into cheers, players embraced in jubilation, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of success. Amidst the celebration, you, the team manager, found yourself caught up in the euphoria, standing at the center of it all.

Kuroko and Kagami, the dynamic duo who had spearheaded Seirin's triumph, were beaming with pride and exhilaration. Their radiant smiles mirrored the joyous atmosphere, infectious and impossible to resist. You couldn't help but join in, a surge of elation filling your heart as you hugged them tightly.

"We did it! We actually did it!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. "All our hard work paid off!"

Kuroko, ever composed, nodded with a small smile. "Yes, we gave it our all, and it paid off in the end."

Kagami, his adrenaline still coursing through his veins, laughed boisterously. "Hell yeah! We're the champions!"

Amidst the cheers and laughter, the bond between the three of you grew stronger. As the victory sank in, you realized just how much this team meant to you. They were more than just teammates; they were your friends and family. Together, you had overcome countless challenges and now stood at the pinnacle of high school basketball.

The court became a stage for shared stories, memories, and dreams. The euphoria of the moment seeped into every word, every smile, and every embrace. This was a time to savor the taste of victory and to revel in the camaraderie that had brought you all together.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of a new chapter. The Winter Cup victory had opened doors to new challenges, new adventures, and perhaps even unexpected feelings.

As the celebration roared on, your eyes were drawn to Akashi Seijuro, standing alone in the midst of the jubilant chaos. His usually confident demeanor was replaced with an unfamiliar expression of shock and disbelief. It was evident that losing was a foreign concept to him, and the weight of defeat hung heavily on his shoulders.

Excusing yourself from the group, you made your way towards Akashi, curiosity burning in your chest. Kagami and Kuroko exchanged puzzled glances, unable to comprehend your sudden interest in someone you had previously shown distaste for. Kuroko, however, sensing the hidden emotions within you, offered a nod of encouragement, silently conveying his support.

Approaching Akashi, you could see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he noticed your presence. He seemed taken aback by your approach, not expecting anyone to reach out to him in this vulnerable moment.

"Congratulations on a well-fought match, Akashi," you said, offering a gentle smile.

Akashi's eyes met yours, searching for any hint of mockery or ill intent. Instead, he found sincerity and understanding, something he didn't anticipate. "Thank you," he replied, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and resignation.

"I know this might be hard for you," you continued, your voice filled with empathy. "You've always been accustomed to winning. But it's in these moments of defeat that we grow the most."

Akashi's guard slowly lowered, realizing that you were not there to belittle him but rather to offer solace. "It's a bitter pill to swallow," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You nodded in understanding. "Sometimes, the greatest lessons come from our losses. It's an opportunity to reflect, to reassess our strengths and weaknesses, and to come back even stronger."

A moment of silence enveloped the two of you as the weight of the conversation sank in. It was a rare connection, borne out of unexpected circumstances, where walls were momentarily lowered, allowing for a genuine exchange.

Akashi's voice broke the silence. "You're right. This loss... it will serve as a reminder to keep pushing forward and to strive for greatness."

A soft smile played on your lips as you gazed at him. "After watching you play today and even during this whole tournament, I have no doubt you can bounce back."

Akashi's eyes met yours, a glimmer of gratitude shining through. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

As your conversation neared its end, you couldn't help but notice Akashi's captivating presence. The way his eyes held a depth that drew you in and the subtle curve of his lips that seemed to carry untold stories. In that moment, a realization washed over you, causing a soft blush to creep onto your cheeks.

The conversation concluded with an awkward silence settling between you. On the sidelines, Kagami and Kuroko discreetly observed, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected interaction. They exchanged glances, silently speculating on the nature of your conversation with Akashi.

The rest of the Seirin basketball team watched in awe; a mixture of surprise and curiosity danced in their eyes. They had witnessed the birth of an unlikely bond between their team manager and the enigmatic captain of the Generation of Miracles, unaware of the journey that awaited them both.

As the awkward silence lingered, you mustered up the courage to look at Akashi, your heart pounding in your chest. Biting your lip nervously, you felt a mix of nervousness and eagerness. Just as Akashi was about to excuse himself, you couldn't resist but call out to him again, your voice laced with a coy and flirty tone.

"Hey, Akashi," you said, your eyes locked with his. "I don't know when you're going to visit Tokyo again, but if you happen to drop by, maybe you should let me know. We could hang out or something. If you're free, of course."

Akashi's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by your boldness. However, his shock gradually dissipated, and a charming aura replaced his initial bashfulness. A dashing smile adorned his face as he gladly accepted your offer.

"I would be delighted," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Perhaps you could share your number, and we can make the necessary arrangements."

Your heart skipped a beat as Akashi asked for your number. With a shy smile, you exchanged contact information, the anticipation growing between you.

"I must admit," Akashi began, a playful glint in his eyes, "losing the game was a disappointment. However, stumbling upon someone as captivating as you, y/n, can certainly be counted as a delightful victory in its own right."

His words were laced with a charming jest, acknowledging the irony of the situation. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a subtle invitation to partake in the playful banter.

The comment caught you off guard, and a hint of blush painted your cheeks. His flirtatious demeanor was as unexpected as it was enchanting. Unable to resist the opportunity for a quick retort, you playfully responded, "Remember to thank your gods then."

With a gentle smile, Akashi's gaze met yours, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The unspoken understanding between you deepened, as if hinting at a future where the boundaries of competition and camaraderie blurred. The unexpected turn of events had created a unique connection, and the prospect of getting to know Akashi on a deeper level thrilled you.

After a few more exchanges of words, the conversation began to naturally wind down. Akashi excused himself, his attention being required by his coach. With a polite smile, he bids you farewell, leaving you momentarily stunned by the encounter.

As he walked away, his back straight and confident, you couldn't help but watch him with a mix of fascination and curiosity. The brief exchange had left an indelible mark, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.

With a lingering smile on your face, you rejoined your friends, who were eagerly awaiting your return. Their eyes were wide with surprise, and their expressions were a mixture of shock, amusement, and curiosity. The moment they had witnessed between you and Akashi Seijuro had left quite an impression.

Kuroko, ever the calm and observant one, simply offered a small smile, his eyes twinkling with silent approval. "I didn't expect that, but it seems like you two had an interesting conversation," he commented softly.

Kagami, on the other hand, couldn't hide his astonishment. His jaw dropped, and he stared at you with a mix of disbelief and a touch of jealousy. "What the... Really, y/n? Akashi? When did this happen?" he blurted out, unable to contain his reaction.

Hyuga, the captain of the team, chuckled heartily, clapping you on the back. "Well, I'll be damned, y/n. I didn't know you had it in you to approach Akashi like that. I almost feel guilty for defeating your boyfriend."

Izuki, always one for wordplay, grinned mischievously. "Looks like you're taking 'shoot your shot' quite literally, y/n. I can't help but be impressed."

Kyoshi, the team's supportive and gentle player, chimed in with a warm smile. "That was brave of you, y/n."

As you were engrossed in the lively conversation with your teammates, you felt a gaze fixed on you. Instinctively, you turned your head, locking eyes with Akashi. His intense gaze met yours, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the Seirin team exploded in a chorus of exaggerated reactions. Some whistled playfully, while others nudged each other with raised eyebrows and knowing grins. Kagami, in particular, seemed ready to explode with a mix of disbelief and astonishment. You can even hear him mumble things like, "I didn't know you had a thing for psychopaths."

Riko finally chimed in amidst the commotion. "Alright, alright, settle down! Stop teasing y/n! We have to prepare for the award ceremony."

Amidst the playful banter and cheers from your teammates, you couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration. It was as if a new chapter had unfolded before your eyes, filled with possibilities and unspoken promises.

With a final glance back at your boisterous friends, you turned your attention fully to Akashi. And as you exchanged smiles, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursed through your veins.

The story between you and Akashi Seijuro was only just beginning, and with each passing moment, you were ready to discover what the future held.

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mercuriians · 2 months

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Heyyyyyyy, I say your requests are open and I was wondering if you could write the GoM (Knb) reacting to their gf wrapping WAP?

Can be Sfw Or nsfw...or both?

Thank youuuuuuu

rap god(dess)

content info — fem! reader, suggestive gom drabbles (all separate, characters assumed to be aged up), slight crack sprinkled in. NSFW in aomine & kise's parts. MINORS BEWARE 😠 based on the song by cardi b & megan thee stallion.

word count — 2.5k words.

author’s note — thank you for the req!! this was pretty fun to write ngl. i told myself i was only going to write around three paragraphs per character, but well, things did not go according to plan lol. sorry for the delay, i hope the length makes up for it!

MIDORIMA.

quite frankly, with the vivid blush currently illuminating the boy's face, midorima looks like the perfect mascot for christmas. but really, no one can blame him. no, not when vulgar, obscene lyrics are effortlessly spilling from his girlfriend's lips like melted gold. maybe he should have predicted this in hindsight, midorima thinks to himself, brows furrowed. you did tend to have a bit of a surprisingly dirty mind hidden behind your unassuming personality.

"why are you singing such a crude song?" midorima utters, a frown etched onto his sharp features. to his chagrin, he recognizes it, having heard from takao of how popular the track was in america.

midorima makes no effort to stop you, however. he remains firmly by the doorway. it's as if he's transfixed by your confident voice and your improvised but smooth movements. he can't quite remember the last time he saw you dance, much less rap. it's a bit embarrassing to admit—for him, at least—but right now, you look undeniably attractive, with your swaying body and carefree grin.

obstinately, he conceals his growing arousal with a wince.

"now from the top, make it drop, that's some wet ass pussy!" you rap before finally looking over to where midorima stands stiffly. in a deceptively innocent manner, you wave to him. "you wanna join in on the fun, shin?" you ask, as if you don't already know what the answer will be. your fingers move to quickly smooth out your shirt.

the basketball player clicks his tongue. "i don't have time for that nonsense," he replies in his usual matter-of-fact tone, pushing his glasses up for good measure. still, it doesn't look like you're convinced, and for some reason your eyes are trailing lower and lower down his tall figure.

midorima feels himself panic.

you meet his gaze, giving the basketball player a sly smirk. unfortunately he already knows what you're going to say before the words even leave your mouth. "alright, but your body," you gesture towards the tent in his jeans, "is saying otherwise." the poor boy promptly chokes on his saliva.

KISE.

it only takes a moment for kise's silky voice to mix with your own. before he even reaches you, he's rapping, lyrics easily slipping from his lips as if he's rehearsed them a hundred times before. in all seriousness, he has. that's the reason why kasamatsu hit him square on the head last week, with a bit more force than usual.

but you don't need to know that. kise reaches for your phone on the living room table, lowering the song's volume just a little so that he can hear your combined voices better. "spit in my mouth, look at my eyes. this pussy is wet, come take a dive," you both sing in unison, turning to look at each other with the same stupid lopsided grin.

the song rolls on and along the way, you and kise formulate some dance moves to accentuate the musical experience. some are undoubtedly silly, with kise, for example, waving his arms around and making exaggerated facial expressions. it's all meant to withdraw a laugh from you, of course, and it works. but then there are the other types of dance moves.

the ones that exude a sensuous kind of aura, where hips sway and gyrate lecherously, where eyes become heavy with fervor and lust. these dances are the most dangerous, undoubtedly, because of the temptations that they entail. a person might become consumed by the reckless desire that burns within their stomach if they aren't careful. and then suddenly, the atmosphere can change with just a blink of an eye.

that's exactly what happens the moment you impulsively decide to push kise down onto a chair and give him a lap dance. the way you move your body is shockingly fluid, and you seem to know just what to do to arouse the blonde even more. there are some small pauses here and there as you decide which moves to try next, but kise hardly notices them when you're biting your lip like that. it's only inevitable for him to lose all sense of self-control, really. soon he becomes focused on getting your shirt off, no longer paying any attention to the song on loop.

"fuck, ryouta!” you moan as you unabashedly bounce on your boyfriend’s cock, arms loosely wrapped around his toned shoulders. “nngh, feels so good—” the way the chair wobbles and shakes should be concerning, but quite clearly neither of you can care less at the moment.

kise’s warm, large hands rest comfortably on your hips, occasionally squeezing your ass whenever the pleasure feels particularly intense. “just like that, babe, yeah,” he pants, rolling his hips to meet yours. “you’re doing so well for me, aren’t you, (name)-cchi?” he reaches up to cup your face in his hand, leaning forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss. his tongue swirls around yours, and kise can’t help but groan into your open mouth.

needless to say, you both are too preoccupied to notice when the song finally ends.

AOMINE.

aomine hasn’t even entered the club room yet when he hears the echo of your voice. he’s heard you rap before, so he knows that you’re actually quite skilled at it. still, this particular performance is quickly turning out to be his definite favorite so far. he briskly walks down the hallway, a little too eager to see his stunning girlfriend. you don’t disappoint, of course.

you’re flipping your hair sassily, using your half-full water bottle as your makeshift microphone while you dance around the vacant area. aomine watches you, wholly enraptured, an amused smirk pulling at his lips but with his eyes already clouded with lust. “hop on top, i want a ride. i do a kegel while it’s inside,” you rap, still blissfully unaware of the one-man audience that you now have. aomine almost doesn’t want to interrupt your singing session, just so he can continue to see you in your element. which happens to be sexy as hell.

“you want a ride, huh?” aomine chuckles lowly, making you drop your water bottle out of alarm. he walks over to where you stand, leaning down to whisper in your ear so he can mess with you. “could’ve just asked, baby.”

suddenly all your confidence seems to evaporate, terminated by that single sentence. your cheeks darken into a rosy shade. aomine grins, taking pride in how all too easy it was to make you flustered. “what?” he asks, feigning innocence. “lost your voice or something?”

“you’re a jerk,” you mutter, reaching up so you can hit the basketball player in the chest. the music is still playing in the background, unaffected by aomine’s antics, but it seems like you’re too embarrassed to continue rapping. the boy only stares down at you, smirk never once faltering. “pick up my water bottle, daiki, you made me drop it.”

aomine shrugs. “you’re closer to the ground,” he responds casually. he’s well aware that the comment is a bit out of pocket—you never did like to be teased about your height—but he really can’t control himself when he’s around you. especially in the state he’s in right now.

“oh come on,” you groan, feeling frustration well up within your chest along with your embarrassment. still, you bend down to pick up the bottle, completely oblivious to the lustful thoughts that swarm aomine’s head. a startled gasp rips past your throat when you feel his large, calloused hands grab hold of your hips. however, quicker than you would like to admit, the surprise shifts into arousal the moment the basketball player presses his bulge against your ass.

with his fingers already tugging your skirt down, aomine breathes out, “since you like that song so much, you wanna act it out?”

your eyes widen, and you try to think straight, try to be a responsible manager, but the way he grinds against you so deliciously starts to scramble any coherent thought you may have had. “wait, d-daiki— satsuki and sakurai are still cleaning up the gym,” you protest weakly, those words being your last line of defense. not that they would have worked.

“doesn’t matter,” he practically growls, tugging you up so that your back rests against his chest. “who’s the team captain here?”

“you are,” you answer, but your voice comes out as a breathless whine. the submissive sound only fuels aomine even more, and it isn’t long before all of your clothes are ripped off and forgotten on the ground. soon, his hips are furiously smacking against yours, your whimpers mixing in with the boy’s groans. “god, mmph, does this mean i should rap m-more of those—nngh— american songs?”

“fuck yeah.”

MURASAKIBARA.

rivulets of water run down the muscular expanse of murasakibara's bare skin as a soft ivory towel hangs around his neck, a lazily pleased expression sprawled across his face—all evidence of the shower he's just indulged in after a long evening of rigorous practice. there's one more thing that he still craves at the moment, however. his stomach growls audibly, and almost as if he's running on autopilot, he walks straight to the kitchen.

now the closer he gets to the area, the clearer he hears your voice. it seems like you're singing quite an explicit song. "gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me," you rap enthusiastically. murasakibara doesn't think too much about the sexual connotations, though, since getting his hands on some corn chips is his main priority at the moment.

right before he steps foot into the kitchen, he asks, "(name)-chin, can ya get me a bag of—" that's when his amethyst gaze lands on your dancing figure, and before he knows it, he grows quiet, somewhat interested by the sight in front of him.

"talk yo' shit, bite your lip. ask for a car while you ride that dick," you rap, moving your head along to the rhythm. your eyes meet murasakibara's, and instead of feeling embarrassed, his presence only fuels you to dance more vigorously. it's like there's a voice at the back of your head, pushing you to see just how much of a reaction you can draw out of your normally indifferent boyfriend. admittedly, the fact that he's currently shirtless is also a reason for motivation.

however, when the song ends a little while later, it doesn't seem as if murasakibara is affected much. he remains where he is, continuing to lean on the doorway. the closest indication that he even saw you perform is the slightly impressed look in his eyes, but even that is nothing more than a sliver, and it makes you question if you're hallucinating it. you huff out a small sigh of defeat, and you turn around, reaching for the drawer. "corn chips, right?"

the basketball player doesn't say anything as he approaches you, and he doesn't say anything either as his arms circle possessively around your waist. there's a shiver that runs down your spine. you turn your head so you can meet his gaze—wait, why are his eyes so dark?

"i think i'm hungry for something else now, (name)-chin."

AKASHI.

humming quietly to himself, akashi gets up from his spot on the living room sofa, beginning to walk over to your room. it's a friday evening, and although he'd usually have practice at this time, coach shirogane had called in sick—a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, really. either way, akashi was sure to take advantage of the opportunity, especially considering how both of your schedules tended to overflow with academics and extracurriculars alike.

his mind wanders a bit, and he remembers you telling him about a volleyball game that was scheduled a few days ago. he could indeed have asked you what the outcome was via text, but akashi has always preferred face-to-face communication. he supposes that he's more traditional in that sense.

however, what he isn't quite expecting is to hear you, normally dignified and proper, rapping lyrics that are particularly edged with profanities. there's a small, rare twinge of disbelief that tugs at him, prompting him to silently move closer to the door. "your honor, i'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes. switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating," akashi hears you belt out. his eyes widen the tiniest bit.

still, by no means is he deaf; regardless of how explicit your music taste seems to be, he can hear the genuine talent seeping from your voice, how you swiftly enunciate each syllable clearly while also maintaining the rap's nimble pace. judging from the sound of your movements, he guesses that you're also dancing.

for a moment, akashi considers connecting you with a respected hip-hop artist that his family loosely has relations with. a bit of a far-fetched thought, maybe, but truly anything is possible in the eyes of a visionary.

when the song reaches its end, he knocks on the bedroom door. he doesn't miss the small sound of surprise that you make. "can i come in, darling?" akashi asks sweetly.

"of course, seijuro," you answer, and he opens the door to see you sitting on the bed. other than the drop of sweat rolling down your face, there's no other indication that you were dancing quite passionately just a few moments ago. you smile up at him, walking over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "did you just get here?"

akashi knows you well enough to see the actual meaning hidden within your words: oh no, i hope you didn't hear much.

he smiles a bit too slyly. "don't worry, my love, your secret's safe with me," he hums, taking a moment to admire the blush on your face before pulling you into a kiss. slowly, he guides the two of you to your bed, his hands calculatingly tracing the hem of your shirt. he'd just have to make you realize that there isn't anything to be ashamed of.

BONUS: KUROKO.

"i want you to park that big mack truck right in this little garage," you rap shamelessly, completely lost within your own world and failing to notice your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you. "make it cream, make me sc— ah!" you squeal, eyes widening in horror as you finally catch sight of kuroko. you immediately pause the song playing on your phone. "uhm, hey tetsu. number two and i were just.. having a singing session."

number two barks in agreement.

all kuroko does is let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment. much to your confusion, he picks up number two, securing the equally confused puppy within his arms before leaving promptly. "was my rapping that bad?" you murmur to yourself, dismayed.

however, after a minute, kuroko returns to the room. you stare at him, flabbergasted. "why did you stop the music?" he asks innocently.

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kentumi · 1 month

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city of angels

kagami taiga x reader

*+:.. b4 u read ... fluffy (?), gn friendly, college au (?), implied height difference between kagami n reader, barely proofread = a lil messy (；ω；)

a/n: waow i've never written something so happy this long before >< sorry if it's a little everywhere.. i'm not the best at writing fluff hu (◞‸◟) i feel like this had the potential to be wayy way way way way better ,, also.. i debated on making this a multi-chapter series? but i'm not sure if it's worth expanding on it so let me know wat u guys think in my inbox (づ_ど)

los angeles.

new home, new beginnings. getting an apartment here definitely wasn't easy and barely made it within your list of "apartment requirements."

a wave of stress comes upon you as you arrive at the tenant's office. here to pick up your keys, you would officially start a new chapter. as you stand in front of the building, you second guess your decision on moving to the big city. in comparison to your previous place, the two heavily contrasted. since the beginning, you always held a fear that you wouldn't become accustomed to your new style of living here. within those fears, one of them stood out the most to you: making new connections.

"alright, just sign here.. and the keys are all yours," the tenant smiles. her smile is warm and welcoming. just what you needed.

"i'm assuming you've been to los angeles before, right?" she asks in attempt to ease your mood. the stress that resided in you could probably be seen from a mile away. however, you were too caught up in making sure that no mistakes were on the final paperwork.

"oh! uh- no, not really.. i decided to move here on a whim to start new and," your voice trails off. then it really sinks in; what kind of decision was it to move to a city that you've never been to before? that you knew barely anything about? you can feel the look she gives you without even turning your attention to her.

"well, i wish you luck on your journey. welcome to the city of angels," she smiles again. this time, her words catch you off guard. your eyes dart straight to her and she has the same warm smile on her face. in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright.

"yeah.. yeah! thank you!" you stutter. she drops the keys into your hands, and you're on your way.

"city of angels," you whisper to yourself. "i wonder if it lives up to its name." sure, the tenant herself was already an angel and already served the name right, but what's a city of them if there's only one?

making your way to your flat, you take notice to the athletic center of your complex. basketball, tennis, swim. there's a spot for almost everything. however, that grows out of your concern. the red-headed figure on the basketball court wounds up taking your full attention. several attempts were made to get a glimpse of his face, but the world only worked against you. back turned to you, you were only able to admire the passion in his movements across the court.

swinging the door open, you get a whiff of the freshly painted walls of your flat. your tenant had just been here assuring the final touches, which you had assumed since the kitchen lights had already been on. the empty space fully submerges you into your new reality, and you decide, it's time to get to work.

stumbling down the stairs and back into the parking lot, you make way to the moving truck. struggling to set up the ramp, you became convinced that dealing with the truck's contraptions was harder than trudging your boxes up the stairs.

a half hour passes, and you're whooped already. you've moved about four out of the fifteen boxes and you're also definitely at your limit. the workload had you debating on calling it a day and just sleeping on the floor with a sheet for the night.

"hey, you need some help?" an unfamiliar voice shakes you out of your thoughts.

whipping your head around, you're met with the chest of a stranger. and when you look up, your eyes meet with the eyes of the redhead from the basketball court. for some reason, a shiver makes its way down your spine. what was this feeling? you can tell he's shaken up too, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

he looks a little mean, but you can tell he's soft. his gorgeous face and impressive height held your focus for a little too long. you also take notice to the muscle he packs on his arms. the mystery man you were just admiring was now standing right in front of you offering.. help?

you stumble on your words, "oh! i mean, if you don't mind.." and before you knew it, the box in your hands disappeared.

"i can handle it. carry whatever's easiest," his voice was charming. fierce, yet kind. he was confident in his abilities, but not too arrogant. following that, you let him take over.

"you from around here?" he asks, breaking the silence. the two of you had been focused on not tripping up the stairs with your hands full.

"no, actually. it's my first time in los angeles," you smile to yourself. suddenly, living here didn't sound too bad. not if he was around.

your redheaded assistant exclaims out of shock, exhibiting the same reaction as your tenant but with his own twist, "well, i hope you come to like it here. it's a beautiful city, really."

you nod, and it goes silent again.

"what was your name? i didn't quite catch it before," you needed to know who he was. after all, he was your athletic center crush turned moving assistant.

" 'names taiga. taiga kagami," you can tell he's proud of himself. not in the sense that he was an arrogant loser, but that the journey connected to his name was all worth.

"well, it’s nice to meet you taiga. i'm y/n, and i am very grateful to be having you help me," you smile. it's obvious that your comment flusters him.

"mm," his shoulders are tense and his voice grows quieter than it was before. with that tough look on his face, you'd never think he'd become easily flustered like this.

a few hours pass, and taiga places the rest of your stuff next to the front door, "you need help with anything else?"

"i think i'll be fine," you smile, "thank you again for helping me. i think i would've just given up on moving had you not showed up."

you find it cute the way he scratches the back of his head. a gentle giant, he was. and for a moment, you both steal a glance from one another. he plays it off, acting as if he was observing the room. the room grows silent once more, and you decide it's your turn to break it.

"oh yeah, i've been meaning to ask.. where's your place at? unless you're just here to use the courts," you joke, but he pouts.

"actually, i'm right across from you," it sounds like he takes pride in where he resides. right across from you. what a steal.

the way everything fell into place so perfectly had you starstruck. you couldn't believe that the man, who simply started out as a mystery crush, turned assistant, had now turned into the boy next door. or rather, across the hall.

shock made itself at home on your face. you were speechless, unsure on how to recover from this right in front of him.

"what a coincidence this must be then," you smile, trying to sound like what he just said didn't just send you through the roof. he smiles back, but this time, it feels more welcoming. the former desolation of your empty apartment becomes warm and you feel an invisible pressure lifted off of your shoulders. however, the feeling is all too familiar.

"well, i'll be across the hall if you ever need anything. just ring the doorbell and i'll get to ya," he shoots you another smile, and up and out the door he goes. at first, you debate on stopping him and offering to take him to eat out, but you decide you're not bold enough for that yet.

the evening replays in your mind as you hover over your kitchen counter. his kind nature paired with his athletic abilities topped with his physique had you absolutely whipped. you'd align him with your definition of angelic.

maybe los angeles truly was the city of angels, and taiga just so happened to find his way to you.

#kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basket fanfic #kuroko's basketball #kuroko's basketball x reader #kuroko's basketball fanfic #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basuke x reader #kuroko no basuke fanfic #knb #knb x reader #knb fanfic #kagami taiga #kagami taiga x reader #kagami taiga fanfic #fanfiction #anime fanfic

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starsailorjannystan · 4 months

Text

in which you’re Kise Ryōta’s best friend, forced to watch him disintegrate before your eyes, his teeth growing sharper, his laughter going higher and his smiles getting faker. your friendship is one of the things you value most in your life. unbeknownst to you, he wants to ruin it.

long one-shot, alternate pov cheerleader!reader light angst, fluff, pining mellow, anime!kise because i’m delulu of his manga version (at least in this fic)

“What? What is it? Intimate? Private? Personal? But what are friends for, if you can’t talk to them about what really matters? All these nights we spent talking together… How could you? How?”

The Name, Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de la Patellière

************************************************************************

You’ve known Kise Ryōta for as long as you could breathe.

Technically, you can’t remember your first meeting, since you were both in glass cribs in a Tokyoite hospital, blissfully unaware of the summer heat, but just as you were neighbours as babies in the maternity ward, you were neighbours as little toddlers in the sandbox, and neighbours as children, waving to each other from your window.

Then you had your first significant meeting in a gym. His elder sisters were taking ballet classes on the upper floor, and you were stuck together during stretching exercises in your rhythmic gymnastics class. You had offered your name, he had offered his, and it had been the childish equivalent of blood-brothering yourselves to each other.

Since then, you had been glued at the hip, like conjoined twins (without the unfortunate medical complications, of course), and people were more surprised to find you on your own than with each other.

You had followed Kise in every sport endeavour he had undertaken, from swimming to baseball, from gymnastics to volleyball, cricket to soccer, short-track and figure skating and cycling, and you watched as each time he mastered a sport and gradually grew bored with it, while you got into cheerleading in third grade and never regretted that decision. You waited for each other at the end of the school day, him on whatever sport activity had struck his fancy at the time, you running drills with the cheer squad, and you always stopped for drinks on the way back home, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your parents never minded the fact that your best friend was a boy, because they had known Kise since he was little too, and you weren’t short of girlfriends thanks to the cheer squad. Though one day you had come back home crying, and your mother had gone into full mama bear mode, until you told her Kise had choked on a bone fish at lunch. You had never been so scared in your life and you had really thought he was going to die. Your father offered to sign you up for first aid classes, and you had dragged Kise with you.

************************************************************************

Middle school had been the first time you were separated. You went to Teikō Junior High, while Kise joined Teikoku Junior High, a school known for its invincible soccer team.

You made the mistake of briefing him on Teikō’s basketball team. To this day, you still don’t know if you forgive yourself or not. But in the end, you’ve decided that time in your lives had been necessary, and your relationship hadn’t been broken to the point where you couldn’t mend it.

Kise had taken on modelling, and as always you had been as supportive as possible, secretly hoping he would stick to it, that he had finally found a hobby that would keep his interest. He had wanted to get his ears pierced, because it would make him look cool, and you had decided against telling him that earrings could cause accidents. Two girls on your squad had been practising back tucks, and one had accidently caught the other's loop earring while spotting her, and you still remembered her shrill scream and all the blood that had dripped on the mat. However, you had had your own ears pierced a while ago as a birthday gift from one of your aunts, and you had noticed the way Kise looked at your ladybugs pendants. You had always done everything together, maybe he was feeling like he was missing out on an experience. So all in all, you hadn't thought it would be a bad idea, all things considered.

Hoo boy, were you wrong.

You had ended up in a café, sharing a tiny strawberry shortcake because you were both on a diet thanks to your demanding activities, and Kise was still sniffling over the pain of the piercing. You had left Claire's with him clutching his left ear, and your endless stream of comforting words had sort of calmed him, but he had refused to pierce his other ear. You had stopped on your way to buy disinfectant, and, without his knowing, a pair of small ring-like silver earrings. And, over the half-eaten shortcake, you had offered him an earring.

"You know, I think you'll look even cooler with only one. It's a style and I'm sure you'll rock it!"

He had looked up from his spoon, eyes still a bit watery, but glinting with hopefulness.

"You think so?"

"Of course! Here, take it."

You had made sure his wound was clean, and you had slid in the earring's pin. Then, you had slipped the other earring on your right thumb.

"Look, I'll keep it until you want to pierce your other ear. How about that?"

He had nodded, and both to change the topic and cheer him up, you had said:

"You know, my school has this incredible basketball program, and you haven't tried basketball yet, right?"

That's when everything started going south.

************************************************************************

You didn't mind being small.

Sure, sometimes you wished you would be a bit taller, mostly because you couldn't afford to gain weight, as on your frame it would show immediately and your coach would double your drills, but you knew that your small height was what allowed you to be top girl. You could back tuck into next year any girl on your squad, and any boy on the gymnastics club. Your kneecaps had been stunted by tumbling, but you didn't mind.

Except when Kise joined the basketball team and suddenly every person you hung out with was way, way, wayyyyyy taller than you.

Even Momoi, who didn't even play basketball, was taller than you.

At least none of them were jerks about it. Most of the time.

"Come on, stop sulking!"

"I'm not sulking!"

Aomine was easily the worst offender. At least purple-haired guy (Murasakibara? was that his name?) wasn't really mean about it. Plus he towered over everyone so you never took it personally. Aomine however always seemed to have fun asking you how the snails were faring today, since you were so close to them. You had no idea how Momoi managed to put up with him 24/7. Though it was true that with his negative 20 IQ thing going on half the time, Aomine was mostly manageable. You’d offered to tutor him, and had been blown away by how many subjects he was failing.

“I thought Kise was bad at school,” you’d said, ignoring your best friend’s theatrical pout, “but you take the cake.”

“What cake?”

“Go back to sleep, Murasakibara.”

(You haven’t seen Kise smile like that in a while. You’re not sure Teikoku was a great place.)

So you hung out with the first-string after practice, head still pounding with the pyramid counts, thighs bruised by the bottom bases’ grips, your shoulder still smarting, pain lancing through your arm. You tried not to throw up the ice-cream you bought, and you turned your head when Momoi touched your arm.

“What do you think about this app? It could be useful.”

You shook your head, looking up to the pink-haired girl.

“Once, I’ve entered Kise’s data in it—”

“You what—”

“And it told me he was three months pregnant. So, those apps are weird. You’re better off tracking it manually on a calendar.”

(The truth was, you didn’t know. You hadn’t had your period yet. None of the girls on your squad had—except Sachiko, and you’d never seen her again after the day you’d heard her crying in the bathrooms).

Momoi smiled, before catching sight of Kuroko and launching herself onwards like a rocket, earning little more than a deadpan look, though you could see the fondness under it.

But truly, you didn't mind, because for the first time in virtually forever, Kise looked genuinely excited about his new hobby. You thought that this time he really found companionship and stimulation. You smiled back at him whenever he turned to you in the bleachers after a successful shot, marvelling at the way he seemed to light up the whole court as soon as he stepped on it. His happiness was your happiness. So you'd never shown defiance towards the basketball team. You really hadn't thought that one through.

************************************************************************

You went shopping together because Kise had wanted a new phone and you were on your fourth store raid already. You didn't see anything wrong with his current phone, which still had on its back the Hello Kitty sticker you had given him when you entered middle school. Sure, it was peeling a little, but it was fine. Kise only asked for the phone's capacity and photographic quality each time, and off you were on your quest again. Munching on your fizzy drink's straw, you raised your head as he rushed towards you. Before you could ask him if he had finally found it, he slung one arm over your shoulders and told you to smile.

Heads bonking over the screen, you grinned at each other. You were both weak for selfies and your own phone didn't have any storage space left for them.

Kise made that one his lock screen picture, and turned fully to you.

"See, it takes pictures better than my eyes."

You had smiled, too, and you'd never questioned his enthusiasm over it.

************************************************************************

Kise's modelling activities had several perks.

For one, you got to meet so many hot people it should have been illegal. You could also get reductions on self-care products, and you were too cute to be broke, so you accepted it without problems. You even got to meet (well, stare at from afar) the photographer of your favourite girl group. Half the pictures on his Instagram account were taken by you, and thank cheer practice for flexibility, because you had to contort like a circus artist to get the best angle each time.

However, his fangirls weren't one of them.

Even though your relationship was strictly platonic, you still got some really hurtful letters and even texts (how did they even get your number?), and after a while you simply blocked them out. You had lost count of all the people trying to get to Kise through you, using you as a means to an end, and you just tried to screen the people that had vile intentions.

Though you could still see how it weighed on your best friend. He was nice and bubbly with everyone, and even if you worried about the mental gymnastics he had to do, you knew he wouldn't turn into a people-pleaser. A few days ago, you had snapped at one of your squadmates who had called him a "two-faced asshole" after being (quite politely, might you add) rejected.

And across from you, he had looked glumly at his (fishless) bento, and you had asked him what was wrong.

"There's this girl that keeps following me," he had sighed. "I tried to let her down but she's incredibly annoying. And clingy," he had grimaced.

Vaguely, you'd remembered a brown-haired girl who was always lingering at the basketball gym's door when you came after cheer practice to go home with Kise.

"So she's bothering you. Want me to go talk to her?"

"No! No, it's fine."

You knew he couldn't be blunt because it would come across as rude and the rumours would kill him. Still, it made your stomach churn with anger.

When the girl had latched onto Haizaki, as you comforted Kise after his crushing loss, you thought that at least it was one less thorn in his side.

************************************************************************

You had realised you were drifting apart at the end of your second year.

Cheer practice had been cancelled because your coach's kid was sick, and you were wandering aimlessly through the streets of the commercial district, half your mind on which high school you would have to go to.

And then you had crossed paths with Kise, who had looked like he was going in one of the glass-paned windows buildings, and you had stopped dead in your tracks. Not because he was where he wasn't supposed to be, but because he had seen you and smiled at you. You recognised that smile. It had the undercurrent of tension that was usually reserved for his fangirls, and it was directed at you.

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" you'd asked.

"Should I?"

That was how you'd known something was deeply wrong.

The basketball team wasn't exactly your friend group, since you hung out with the squad most of the time and without Kise, you didn't really have anything to say to them, except maybe for Momoi and Kuroko. And still you noticed how Aomine was nowhere to be seen, and even Midorima didn't bother with acknowledging you in the halls.

And worst of all, you'd watched Kise's eyes go back to being glazed over with boredom. Every time you asked him if he wanted to talk about it, and every time he reassured you, saying nothing was wrong.

Kise had never lied to you. He had always known all your problems and secrets, and you his.

Somehow, you felt guilty about what happened.

************************************************************************

Teiko was not known for its leniency when it came to sports practice.

Still, it was you who’d foolishly risen to the bait of your squad captain, and here you were on a Friday evening, shrugging icy water off of you hoping for feeling to come back to your toes, when you could have been at home already soaking in a bubble bath.

One good thing: nothing hurt anymore, since your limbs had fallen asleep. You could still catch the last train, so you made it out quickly, grabbing your bag. You walked stiffly to the exit, unwittingly going next to the basketball gym, ruining all your efforts.

(You hadn’t taken the challenge to prove anything to that empty-brained tumbler. You knew it’d hold you back enough so you could miss Ryōta on the way home and pretend it was club stuff. You’d been avoiding him and pretending not to notice his hurt looks. You were unravelling.)

So, that day, walking past the gym, steeling yourself not to look inside, you heard those words.

“Next time we see each other, we’ll be opponents.”

You sped up, almost running to the bus stop, your ankle smarting again after your short run had warmed up your body, heart beating to the confusing tune of hurt and longing.

You weren’t sure you could handle three more years like this.

************************************************************************

Sixteen and born to win, you hopped on the train right as the doors closed, slipping in without so much as a hair caught between the metal edges. Your nails flashed hot pink against the grey of your new uniform skirt, and your hair was tied neatly. You were ready to hit the mat before breakfast.

Of course, you dropped on a seat and immediately let your head fall against the window, catching up on your lost sleep.

Under your eyelids, you couldn’t stop your mind from flashing your phone’s black screen, Kise silent after you’d texted him you couldn’t walk to school with him because of club imperatives, your heart sinking a little in your chest. You couldn’t help but remember the knowing look Momoi had given you at graduation when you’d told her which high school you were going to. As if she were one to talk—you hadn’t made any comment when she’d said she would be going to Tōō! And anyway, it was either this or Shutoku, and you wouldn’t be caught dead on the same squad as your former cheer captain. That girl was going down this year or else.

High school was going to be a good time, you’d make sure of it. New place, new people new rules, new you.

************************************************************************

When Kise Ryōta was five years old, he learnt that little girls could bend in half.

He saw one of them do it, in the gym where his oldest sister had left him while she took her dance classes on the upper floor.

She had bent so far that, for a second, he had been worried she would snap in two.

He would never forget that moment—the moment he discovered what extraordinary meant.

He would never forget any of the moments that came after, when you had told him your name and became his friend at a time when he was so lonely it hurt.

As you both grew up, he’d started to worry you would move on. Find someone better, someone more interesting. Someone truly gifted in something the way he wasn’t—copying is the lowest form of the wit, after all, or however the saying went.

Or maybe he would get bored of you. Get bored of seeing the same face day after day.

Unfortunately, as the years passed, he didn’t grow bored.

Kise discovered a new sentiment: frustration.

And you were painfully oblivious to it, wrapped up in your own worry.

************************************************************************

First-aid classes with you were horrible for his blood pressure.

Sometimes, the instructor felt merciful and let you practise on mannequins. Other times, the elderly man fancied himself a hotshot cardiac surgeon or something and forced you to practise on live bodies. “A mannequin can’t prepare you for the feeling of ribs breaking under your hands,” he had said, dead serious, with a dozen teens looking uncomfortable as hell.

You insisted on signing up every year in order not to forget the manoeuvres. He knew where that came from, and sure, if he was to choke on a bone fish again or go into cardiac arrest from a bad collision, there’d better be someone who knew the Heimlich manoeuvre and CPR. But if you were the one doing it? He was going to choke anyway.

You hovering over him, eyes on his mouth, gaze focused and jaw set? Yeah, every session was torture and you didn’t even notice. Were you even his friend? Did you even care a little bit about his feelings? How could you not feel the way his skin burnt under your fingers when you pulled him into a practiced recovery position?

As he drifted away from his own teammates, from the new passion basketball had kindled in him, he decided against telling you the only thing keeping him coming to practice was the thought of walking home with you.

************************************************************************

He didn’t have a clue most of the time.

Everything was fine, and then something switched. The day he started undressing you in his head—absent-mindedly, like it was nothing at all, like you weren’t his most precious friend, like he wasn’t unravelling the last thread of his reality—was the day he knew he was fucked six ways from Sunday. You were stuck in a push-and-pull with each other, and he didn’t know what to do.

It seemed Kise could not keep his friendships going smoothly.

You holding his hand or hugging him was never a problem before. He refused to spoil your relationship like with the other Miracles. On the other hand, throwing it all away was so tempting, the easy way out, burn all the bridges and pretend it never happened. If you had been someone else, he’d already have done it. But you were you. You were not some girl he could just toy with, speeding it up to get faster to the break-up.

On a good day, he would psych himself into trying to talk to you—and always failed miserably to follow through with his plan.

When you were younger, you’d hold sleepovers at his or your house, in the dark, by candlelight, giggling uncontrollably until his sisters or your parents came to scold you gently.

He appreciated candlelight even more now, some seven years later and several hours a day spent under the unforgiving blinding flash of a photographer’s camera. He liked the warm flickering glow of it, how the candle slowly died, and you’d agree on going to bed, but would end up talking again until either of you fell asleep. He liked catching glimpses of you in the dark, piecing you back together in his head, fragments of you in this soft glow haunting his dreams, and he'd wake up with strands of your hair in his dry mouth and his hands uncomfortably close to you and he'd go straight to the bathroom. Being overly enthusiastic at breakfast didn’t quite make up for it, unfortunately, and he’d pretend not to notice the question in your gaze.

At the height of summer, he gave up on faking indifference at the way your shorts rode up on your thighs, showing blue and purple bruises where you’d been gripped countless times, propped up by bottom bases for a pyramid. Lying on the grass, he tried to focus on your words despite the blood rushing in his ears, thinking about how much he wanted to make those bruises his doing, how he wanted to—

He came later and later when you were having sleepovers, photoshoots and practice eating away at his time, smiling sheepishly to your father working in the living-room, you were already half-asleep on your covers spread on the floor, near your open window, aquarium glowing softly purple, pump-pump-pumping water. Your eyes two bright spots on your lit-up face when you pulled gently on his sleeve to make him lie down next to you. He complied every time, exhaustion making his limbs weak. He tried to sleep and not think about how hard it was to not touch.

School was no respite for him. When he managed to hide from his fangirls, you spent the break stowed away, pressed against each other like when you were little, and life was a river under a rainbow. You leaned on his shoulder in the hallway, staying still until the motion-activated lights turned off.

You would both pretend everything was fine, and that this wasn’t the worst time of your lives.

************************************************************************

You looked at him but you failed to notice how he looked at you—how his gaze followed the hair catching at your mouth whenever you landed a tumbling pass, ponytail flipping, how he trailed close when you walked on railings by the road on the way home, how his breath hitched when you dismounted with an aerial walkover as if a car didn’t zoom past you at one hundred miles per hour, looking back at him and shooting him a cocky grin, how you were always confident and invested in a single thing, laser-focused on your passion.

The hardest thing in cheer was not the tumbling passes, or the pyramids, or the hours or the gruelling practices, the injuries or the rivalries. It was the smile hiding the lactic acid building in the muscles, it was the spring in the step on hardwood floor, the unfailing cheerfulness.

“Why do you like it?”

He’d asked one day, at the end of cheer practice, which for once had overrun basketball—they needed to prepare for regionals, especially with Shutoku’s squad firing on all cylinders on the circuit this year.

“I’m part of something,” you’d said. “I’m part of something and I don’t have to look at myself.”

After a moment, you’d asked:

“Why do you like basketball?”

He’d paused to really think about it for a minute, and realized he’d finally settled on an answer long ago. He just had to acknowledge it.

“I’m part of a team.”

************************************************************************

Highschool saw you fall into a tentative, sincere routine that was an attempt at going back to the way things were.

(When will you both admit things changed? You were waiting to see who would break first.)

You walked to and from school together. Ease came back as you stopped awkwardly greeting each other, picking up the conversation where you’d last left off without missing a beat, like before. It felt safe, comfortable.

You came to Kise’s games with a spring in your step, happy to see him interact with his teammates, happy to see that Kaijō was free of the currents of tension that had plagued Teikō’s last days.

You went back to your favourite hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, sharing food the way you used to. Everything clicked gradually back into place like synchronizing heartbeats, and even though you knew things would never be the same again, you did your best to make up for what happened, and he did too.

Maybe this was your way of apologizing. Maybe it was his, too.

“I think I need a new lock screen photo,” Kise said one day, gauging your reaction.

“Yeah, I think you do,” you answered.

You grinned at each other.

Things always looked up eventually.

************************************************************************

One second you were soaring in the air under the blinding lights of the stadium, so high, high, high up you could have sworn you touched the rafters, your whole body tight and arms crossed on your chest as you completed your flip, heart rattling against your ribcage partly because of the booming music and partly because of the sheer excitement you’d been feeling.

The next second, your head was meeting the unforgiving, hardwood, polished floor of the court, your squadmates desperately scrambling for you, painted nails scratching at your arms, thighs and waist, clutching and leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin, and as you were propped upright, you felt sticky hot blood coating your forehead and hairline, and you blurted out: "Oh, that's not good."

The good side of things was that you didn't really feel the pain, since you were living an out-of-body experience. It had started when your squad got on the court, as always, your body slipping out of your mind's control to execute the choreography, the tumbling passes and pyramid beats, and even your injury couldn't jolt you back to reality. Adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, and the hallway was swirling a little. One of your squadmates was standing guard near the bench you sat on, trying not to lie down, and your coach had called an ambulance. You had started debating internally whether falling asleep and risking not waking up was worth it or not when you caught a blue and yellow blur at the periphery of your vision.

A split second later, two strong, callused hands softly cupped your cheeks and you tried to focus on the two worried brown eyes staring at you. It took three long seconds for you to piece it back together—pretty in blue, perfectly winged eyeliner and the hand that held your own when he dragged you from mall to mall—your best friend was here.

You smiled brightly, though you weren't sure if your numbing body had followed the motion since Kise's brows furrowed further.

"Ryōta!" you chimed, your own voice sounding far away. "Is the match over?"

"It's still half-time. They're cleaning your blood off the court."

"Oh," you muttered, nodding in understanding, the movement sending pain flaring through your nerves, kind of bumped out Kise hadn't won yet, because then you would have headed out for celebratory drinks, and you knew you had to talk to him about something, but what? You were sure you had planned to talk…

You heard Kise calling out your name, and the edge of panic to his voice made you realise you’d been zoning out.

"Are you okay?"

As you tried to focus on his gaze and the feeling of his fingers on your cheeks, you caught sight of your squadmate beckoning your coach over.

"I'm perfectly fine," you beamed as you started falling over, the siren of the ambulance blaring painfully in your brain even from behind the stadium glass gates, blue and red lights flashing on your face, and your vision went black.

************************************************************************

Kise could barely focus on the rest of the match.

Of course, it didn't mean he threw it. He blazed across the court in his usual, miracle-curb-stomping-mortals fashion, but he was off, half out of it. Even though the team they were facing was nowhere near a threat to Kaijō, he knew Kasamatsu wouldn't have hesitated to drop kick him into next year were it not for the too-shiny spot near the half court line where you bled out. Okay, maybe there was no need to be dramatic about it but you'd been whisked away by an ambulance and even the cheer coach, who didn't blink at splintered shins and broken arms, had looked worried. Head injuries could be lethal in this sport. You weren't paralyzed or anything, but he remembered the dried blood near your hairline and your unfocused eyes, glazed over with pain and what was probably the beginning of a concussion.

After the game, he put his clothes back on in autopilot mode, wordlessly letting know Coach Takeuchi he was going straight to the hospital and not getting on the team bus.

The receptionist looked at him with downright unwarranted distrust when he told her he was waiting for you, and that you’d suffered a head injury.

“Let me guess: she fell down the stairs?”

Kise didn’t even know what to say to that, mind coming up blank with worry, and so simply went to sit between a sniffling child and a man who seemed fine despite the axe planted in his head. He belatedly remembered to text his manager he was not coming to the shoot after all.

His chest deflated with relief when he saw your coach step back out in the waiting room, with you right behind her, bandages hiding under your bangs. He sprung up, ignoring the eyes of the receptionist burning holes in his back, and waited until your coach had left you near your house before talking to you. The blood trickling from your forehead where you’d split skin had been spectacular but harmless, as you’d only suffered from a little head trauma. The hematoma would disappear in three weeks all on its own. His throat felt choked up with relief and all the unnamed emotions he’d let simmer during all those years.

You arrived in front of your apartment complex, street lights falling on the street walk, splashes of light on the dark pavement. Silence blanketed you while you were trying to muster the courage to talk.

At the same time, you both said:

“I’m sorry.”

Kise blinked. Sorry? About what? What even—why couldn’t he even apologize properly—

“I wasn’t there for you,” you said, feeling your eyelashes brush against your bandages. “I should have tried to help you instead of watching it happen.”

“What—no, no! I—”

Come on, get your shit together, Ryōta.

“I was avoiding you,” he finally admitted. “Because… I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

You were stunned into silence, coming to a halt before the steps leading to the entrance of the apartment complex. For a second, you convinced yourself you’d misheard. That you’d actually suffered a concussion and were hallucinating this whole part. That this wasn’t happening.

“It’s not because I don’t like you!” He scrambled to save the throw, trying to get all his thoughts out faster upon seeing the way you’d reacted. “It’s because I like you…too much.”

Kise bit on his tongue. He was messing this up. He was messing this up so badly. He felt so stupid, where was his casual flirtiness when he needed it, you would never talk to him again—

You silently hugged him tight, something you hadn’t done since middle school, and the air flew out of his lungs like you’d just punched him.

Humiliating tears pricked his eyes and he closed his arms around you, burying his nose in your hair, your game-day shampoo’s scent wrapping around him, and he found the strength to say, so quietly you could have not heard it: “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Stupid, stupid you to worry about him when you literally split your head open. But it was true, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to be dragged to practice, you’d timidly gone back to hanging out together more often, and he found that he actually liked those Kaijō lunatics (though he still did not appreciate Kasamatsu’s cage fight skills).

“See you tomorrow?”

Kise reluctantly let you out of his arms, and nodded, heart swelling with relief. Relief, relief, relief. You still wanted to talk to him.

“See you tomorrow.”

You turned, but halted, one foot still lifted over the first step. Did your heart hurt? Did he need to call your parents? His hand went fishing for his phone in his pocket, set on dialling your mom’s number, but he went still when you turned again and took one step closer to him, your hand gripping his jacket, and he mindlessly bent down, eyes widening as you got closer and closer until your lips pressed against his.

Every coherent thought disappeared as his brain turned to mush, and he let out an undignified noise as your tongue anxiously, timidly slipped into his mouth. He’d become the embodiment of non-resistance, hands cupping your face as a wave of heat washed over him.

Then, as quickly as you’d started, you stopped and took a step back.

Kise distantly thought he was probably as red as Kagami’s hair, brain rewiring to produce full sentences again.

“See you tomorrow,” you said, with finality this time, smiling softly.

He nodded, watching you go inside.

He’d see you tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day after that, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#knb #knb x reader #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #kuroko no basuke #kise x reader #kise ryota x reader #kise ryota #gom #knb imagines #knb scenarios #knb one-shot #reader scenario #knb fanfic #plot bunny status: out of my head and that's all that matters

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teamatsumu · 9 months

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: ̗̀➛ tiny.

murasakibara has a size kink

pairing: Murasakibara Atsushi x reader

word count: 1,489

✎ smut, nsfw, explicit content

You didn’t notice it at first. You thought him cupping your hands between his was just a cute gesture. Or when he pulled you into bed and curled his massive frame around you until you were folded into a ball was just him being lazy and wanting to cuddle. You actually wouldn’t have caught it at all if that one fateful afternoon hadn’t happened.

It was a lazy Sunday, Atsushi’s favorite time of the week. Sundays meant no basketball practice and no school, which meant you had no reason to leave his bed unless it was to make food or pee. Currently you were laying between his legs, back against his chest with his chin resting on top of your head. He had propped a family sized pack of chips between your legs, reaching in and grabbing a piece every twenty seconds as his droopy eyes flitted over the laptop before you two. One of his hands was running lazy strokes over your bare thigh. It was quiet except for the sounds of the characters on the screen.

Every ten minutes or so, Atsushi would abandon the snacks in favor of wrapping both his arms around your middle and squeezing, nuzzling his face into the junction between your head and shoulder, inhaling deeply. He would bend forward until you curled under him, giggling at his affections.

“You’re so tiny, Y/N-cchin.” He cooed. “So cute.”

You opened your mouth to reply but all that came out was a gasp, feeling something long and hard press into the small of your back. You stiffened as the mood in the room shifted.

“Atsushi.” Your voice was breathy and quiet, feeling his lips meet the skin of your neck. Goosebumps rippled over your arms and your eyelids began to flutter shut when his hand on your thigh started inching up, fingers dipping below the seam of your shorts to tease the sensitive skin. Your intake of breath was sharp, and you felt Atsushi lean forward even more, effectively folding your body on itself. His arms wrapped around you tight, lips busy sucking a dark mark on your neck.

“Look how small you are,” he drawled, “I can cover you with my body completely. You won’t-” a pause while he squeezed your body. “You won’t be able to get away from me.”

You yelped as your body was suddenly lifted into the air and flipped, Atsushi now on top of you as your back hit the mattress. His shorts did nothing to disguise his hard on, pressing between your spread legs as he lapped at your neck like you were his latest snack.

You reeled at his words, feeling your body heat up at the implication. Oh.

“Atsushi,” your body buzzed in excitement as you thought out your next words. “You’re so much bigger than me. You could crush me completely.”

His moan was broken and it made you fill up with glee. Oh, the thought of this was destroying him. And you weren't fairing much better either. You could feel yourself dripping at the thought of your huge boyfriend holding you down until you couldn’t move. Until all you could do was lay there and take what he gave you.

He seemed to be on the same page as his hand played with the waistband of your shorts, teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “You want it, Y/N-cchin?” His voice had dropped a few octaves. “I’ll give it to you if you promise to take it all.”

You nodded into his hair, pulling your limbs further into yourself. You watched his eyes darken at the action, at the thought of you making yourself smaller for him. Your mind was getting hazy, playing into this newly discovered fantasy you didn’t know he had.

“I’ll try to take it.” You whispered. “But I don’t think I can.”

Of course you can. You had done it before. But you loved the way his lips twitched at the pretend apprehension in your voice. His expression turned devious as he stared down at your pliant body.

“We will just have to see, won’t we?”

Clothes came flying off after that, feverish kisses exchanged between you two as you felt Atsushi resist all of your actions. He slapped your hands away and pushed your body down over and over, making sure you knew how helpless you were compared to his overwhelming strength. You moaned and whined into his mouth, letting his tongue ravage every crevice. You loved it when he got like this. When he abandoned the slow, lazy sex and gave you more. And if you were anticipating correctly, today he was out to wreck you.

His heavy cock dragged over your slit, rock hard and throbbing. He hooked his hands under the backs of your knees and pushed your legs up until you were folded in half, making you sigh and squirm just a little. You bit your lip in exaggeration.

“Atsushi-kun, I can’t move at all.” You purred, watching him take in a shuddering breath as his hungry eyes ran over your pinned body. He gave you a grin.

“Don’t worry, baby. You don’t have to. You’re gonna take it like a champ, just like this.”

The head of his cock poked at your entrance and your eyes widened. Okay, this was new. Atsushi always prepped you. Always. Because it was true that he had a huge cock, and you couldn’t possibly take him without opening up on his fingers first. He registered the genuine apprehension on your face and you could feel his cock twitch at the sight. His eyes gleamed.

“Take it like a good girl, Y/N-cchin. No complaints~” And then he sank into you.

You gasped and your back arched, body struggling to accommodate his girth. Pain shot up from your core and through your torso as Atsushi pushed deeper and deeper, not pausing for one second until his balls slapped into your vulva, and you cried out when the head hit your cervix. He was moaning loud and unhindered, hands gripping your legs so hard you were sure he would leave bruises. Tears ran down the sides of your face and into your ears, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to relax your core, panting heavily.

“Aw, baby,” Atsushi bent forward when he saw your state, licking at the tears running down your temples, humming low. His cock twitched inside you, making you yelp. He was enjoying this too much, and that made you squirm in excitement. His enthusiasm was turning you on.

“You’re so big, Atsushi-kun.” You gasped out, clenching around him until he groaned. “You’re stretching me out. You’re going to tear me into two.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the pounding that came next.

He was fast and rough, slamming his hips hard into you with every thrust. You screamed and cried, more tears leaving your eyes. He leaned over you, your legs hooked over his shoulders and forehead pressed to yours, watching every little detail of your face closely as his cock tore through your pussy.

“Taking it so well, Y/N-cchin.” He muttered, his breath hitting your face. He licked at your lips. “Your tiny little pussy really wants me that bad? No matter how much it hurts, you’ll still let me crush you?”

You did nothing but babble out scrambled words in response, gripping tight at his biceps until your nails were digging into his skin. That seemed to spur him on even more. His hand reached between your legs, pinching your clit until you shrieked, rubbing it in hard, tight circles that had you arching your back off the bed and cumming all over his cock, eyes rolling up and legs seizing tightly. Atsushi groaned and kept going, prolonging your orgasm by not letting up his ministrations on your clit until you were sobbing and begging him to stop. You struggled against his grip, trying to push his hand away from your pussy but failing. He drove into you harder at the sight of you struggling against him.

“One more,” he moaned. “Come with me. Gimme one more-”

He pushed you into another orgasm fairly quickly after that, heavy balls slapping on your ass until he stilled deep inside you, cumming with a loud groan that washed over you like warm water. Both of you heaved long breaths, trying to blink through the roaring in your ears.

You whined when he finally pulled out of you and lowered your legs. They were trembling and twitching with fatigue, making Atsushi snicker and kiss the inside of your thighs. He bit and licked at your salty, sweat-covered skin.

“Well,” you sighed. “That was new.”

He hummed and fell down on top of you, making you groan in protest. He shoved his face into your neck when your fingers reached up and carded through his damp hair. Already, you could feel sleep encroaching on your mind.

“Next time, I’m taking you against the wall.”

#kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #kuroko no basquet #murasakibara atsushi #knb murasakibara #murasakibara x reader #murasakibara atsushi x reader #murasakibara atsushi smut #murasakibara smut #murasakibara atsushi x y/n #murasakibara fanfiction #murasakibara fluff #murasakibara one shot #murasakibara x y/n #murasakibara atsushi imagine #knb fanfic #knb x reader #knb smut

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tenkasato · 6 months

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Choose Me Again

Hello! Here's the Akashi-centric oneshot I promised for the longest time. It's been sitting in my drafts folder for more than 3 years. So I decided to just upload it, for what it's worth. It's quite long, but I thought it'd be better to post it in one post rather than per chapter. Warning: IT'S A MAMMOTH, but I hope you guys would hold on til the end of it. Without further ado, here it goes...

The first time he met you was when he went over to his favorite tea shop in the suburbs. It was a small place situated at the corner of the street.

The interior was designed with newspaper clips of its successful endeavours. The photos of famous celebrities in black and white pinned onto cork boards were memoirs of the once high-end tea house. The sole source of light was the dimming bulb by the corner, and the rest was shed by the afternoon sun.

You, like he, were a rare sight.

You wore a wrinkled and faded high school uniform. Your tie was a little crooked. Your long tresses were tousled and gathered into a messy bun. Your lips were pursed, eyebrows knitted in concentration. A lotus crest was embroidered on your blazer, one that he couldn't recognize.

Before he could saunter over to his usual seat, he found himself walking towards you. You looked up the moment he came to view, demeanour cautious and intrigued.

"Hi."

"Hello."

Polite smiles were exchanged.

"I haven't seen you around here.”

He lowered his eyes to the vacant seat in front of you with a silent question.

"Can't say the same to you," you replied with a grin as you gestured for him to sit. "I work back there with the dishes so I don't go out and meet the customers."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded with a low hum. That explained why your sleeves were pushed up to the level of your elbows. You shrugged, unbothered, and returned back to what you were busy with before he interrupted. Sketches of faceless women clad in formal dresses were scattered around the round table. Eraser dusts were everywhere.

“Why do you always come to this place? It’s full of old people and it smells like incense.”

While most of his peers went to KTVs, arcades and malls, he preferred quiet places like these. It was no wonder he caught your eyes. A young man fresh from school in his white blazers looked odd and out of place.

“You’ve been watching?”

You shook your head with a chuckle, the motion letting loose some strands from her bun.

“I like observing people.”

The second time you met, he finally asked your name. And he told you his.

“Akashi Seijuro, hmmm.”

His name rolled on your tongue like candy. Not the excessively sweet one, but the type that leaves a gentle aftertaste in the mouth. He liked hearing his name with your voice.

He waited for your eyes to widen, to pause, to shrink back under his stare. A renowned surname like his seemed to have that kind of effect on others. His family was influential in terms of politics and business. It was a double-edged sword. One that struck fear and respect from his classmates.

But you simply nodded. Perhaps you weren't aware.

That was his notion until you spoke again.

"Must be tough to be under pressure all the time." You spun your pencil with your fingers, the twirls and tumbles mesmerizing him for a bit. "No wonder you frequent this shabby stall for some breathers."

"You've come to quite an interesting conclusion.”

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

He wondered if you were good at reading people because you drew expressions well. Melancholy in a smile so wide. Apprehension hidden behind closed eyes. Ranges of emotion in supposedly expressionless animals. Your hands worked craftily with just a pencil.

How would you draw him?

Curious, he asked you.

“I don't know.”

And he left it at that, despite wanting to ask why. It was hard to understand someone like him that even he couldn't fully comprehend what he truly was. He looked at himself in the mirror everyday. He still had the same face, the same lips and cheeks. But with a look closer, his image would rattle, shift and shatter. It made his left eye throb.

“Do you want to go outside? You don't look so good.”

He peeked across the window to where his car was parked. With a little contemplation, he nodded and texted his chauffeur that he was going to walk home.

~ O ~

When he met you one afternoon in front of the tea shop, you were clutching a ball between you arm and hip looking peeved and embarrassed.

“Do you know how to play?”

A shrug. “Just a little.”

You smiled bashfully.

“Teach me.”

You found an outdoor court beside a nearby middle school. He started by instructing how to dribble and what stance to take. He demonstrated how to shoot, before pointing at the three point line and telling you what it was for. When you understood the basics, he told you to get past him and shoot.

“I’d appreciate it if you told me beforehand that we were playing. I should have brought clothes."

“I don't exactly have your number, Akashi-kun.”

You finally called quits when the sky began to tint orange. Panting, you accused him of lying about being an amateur in basketball. He chuckled, removing his sweaty blazer as he watched you fan at your flushed face. Walking back to the benches to retrieve his phone, he told you to give him your number. You complied albeit excitedly.

It was only after two weeks of practicing that he texted you that he was a basketball team captain.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro had never had a crush on anyone.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. He had a fair share of admirers from the student body with his inherent good looks, academic standing, school positions held and family background. He met a few who showed outright interest in him, but what he expected to feel, he didn't.

Like he was trained to, he set his eyes on the sole goal of the family. To excel in all fields. Unfortunately, socializing for the sake of romantic escapades was not covered by his lessons at home.

So when you innocently reached out for his hand that one night, pulling him towards the river bank to show him a stone trick, he felt a zap. It pierced through his chest before expanding into flutters breaking out of his skin. He felt nauseous but it left a pleasant sensation in his gut. Addicting and quite unbecoming.

You kept on talking, bragging about your skill, unknowingly gripping his hand tighter. Mind going blank, he felt across the creases on your palm, the callousness of your fingers. Your hand was cold from the chill of the night. It made him want to bring it inside his hoodie pocket to provide some semblance of warmth.

This was another thing he was never trained for by his father. Confessing to a girl he recently found he liked.

He thought, perhaps it isn't the right time to confess.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro never had a diary.

His mom had one. It was pink and adorned with handmade flower crafts and ribbons. It was kept inside her closet where his father would never look. She showed it to him one time, saying that a diary was meant to keep all his deepest secrets and even his flitting daydreams. Her smile was wide, eyes with a twinkle of mischief like she and he were sharing a secret no one was meant to get a whiff of. She said she’d help him choose a notebook when he was old enough.

When he had touched her diary for the first time, it felt heavy. Like his heart that had probably been coated with lead that time.

His mom along with her memories had been buried under white roses, but her secrets, dreams, thoughts—it was kept immortalized in her diary. Why had his father chosen white flowers? His mom loved pink. Why couldn't they let her choose something for herself at least for the last time?

That had been the last time he cried.

He never bought himself a diary even as he grew older. But he now understood the glee of being able to share the things he buried under piles and piles of pretence and grandiosity. To be able to say how much he hated mathematics despite being exceptional in it. To be able to eat three cup noodles in one night. To be able to laugh loudly without worrying about etiquette.

If his mom had been alive, he would be able to tell her that he already had a diary in the form of a you.

“The only reason I was allowed to play basketball was because I could learn to lead people better. Basketball is a strategic sport, after all.”

“But do you like playing?”

“Yes. It was my mom who first taught me.”

“Then you should play for the sake of enjoying yourself. Winning is just secondary to it.”

How simple you made it sound. Yet, it was something he's been yearning to hear from anyone.

“Date me.”

You choked on your cola, unfortunately dirtying the sketch you were working on. He had said it on the whim. Impulsive, and certainly an act that starkly contrasted how he was raised to be. However, it felt right that time. With your hand casually brushing with his, your head leaning against his shoulder, it felt extremely right.

When you're sixteen, you're obliged to think that you can take risks and your actions wouldn't garner grave consequences. At least, that was how most teenagers had it. He didn't think he was to be categorized under 'most teenagers', but as the wind blew past you and went on with its never ending journey, he thought I could be a normal kid once in a while.

Your hand closed around his fingers until they whitened on pressure. He flickered his eyes to you, and with a breathless chuckle, you finally answered.

“Sure.”

~ O ~

“Sei-kun, I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

And that was the first time he allowed himself to cry again.

~ O ~

He convinced himself that it was out of his or your control. It was like one of those famous, overused lines in the movies where the love was perfect, but the timing just wasn't.

And maybe, that was the case for you and for him.

Was he mad?

No.

Did it hurt?

Akashi Seijuro didn't think he needed to answer that.

But what could a 16-year-old do when his first love leaves because of unavoidable circumstances? His family was powerful. He had money. He had intelligence. However that wasn't nearly enough to magically change your family's mind of moving.

What you had was beautiful. A blissful time of trying things out for the first time with someone who could have potentially been his partner for life. It was like a favorite chapter in a book. Once a page was flipped over, a scene came to a conclusion. You could only now turn one page back to recall the memories and relive them.

27-year-old Akashi Seijuro understood this now. Or rather, he accepted it.

His father was close to retiring, and naturally, the one next in line was him. He was more than ready to bear the responsibility as the new CEO of Akashi Enterprises next year. All that was left was papers and formalities.

He had changed a lot since the day you left. Friendships broken to rubble and restored to full. Priorities set straight. Perceptions changed. The pain in his left eye had subsided close to none. He felt whole again, like a wholer version of himself before he started dissociating in front of his mother’s tombstone.

Maybe you leaving was a good thing, because if you had been there when he had broken down, you would've been caught in a maelstrom. You would've gotten hurt. The him now wouldn't have forgiven the versions of him then.

He fixed it. Not without help of course, but he did.

Hence, when he stepped into the tea shop—not the old, rickety one back home, he was stunned. Maybe it was his reward for holding out.

Or maybe, it was true. What they said in the movies.

There you were, a pencil in your hand and your hair in a bun.

Looking as alluring and enigmatic as ever.

Perhaps, this time, the timing was perfect.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro thought that he should feel the tug of hesitation, keeping him from eagerly approaching your hunched form. It was inherent in human nature to avoid pain at all costs. But like he so emphasized from the very beginning, he was not like most people.

With a grace befitting of an heir, he walked towards your table.

It took you a few seconds before noticing the figure in front of you. When you looked up, your eyes widened. When he quirked up his lips, you visibly relaxed.

"Hey, you."

"You look different."

And indeed you did. The baby fat around your face was gone. Your lips were painted deep red, eyes framed by light beige. You sported a long dress that hugged your figure.

You were his first love, and yet you were not.

"I can say the same about you, Akashi-san."

He pretended that the way he was addressed did not sting him, but even so, he raised his brows before taking a seat.

"How have you been?"

He didn't think that between the millions of interweaving lines of time and space, his hand would be able to touch this particular one and meet with you again. For a long time, you had only existed in his memories and dreams. Right now, you breathed the same air as he did, listened to his words as he tried to piece the lost moments together with yours.

You told him your story.

And then, it his turn to tell his story.

He told you of the downward spiral he fell into after you left, not missing how you flinched in your seat. Victory became his primal objective. Acting like he was bred to, he crushed all his rivals and even went as far as discarding camaraderie in the basketball team and demolishing their opponents’ morales. In a bystander’s view, he was most peerless and unreachable during these times. But to the few people who really cared about him, he had been on his way to self-destruct.

“Someone slapped some senses into you, I’m guessing.”

“If you want a summarized version, then yes. Kuroko and the others. You’ve met them a few times before.”

“I remember. Go on. I want the uncut version of the story.”

The smile that graced his lips was foreign—young, boyish and carefree. One that you recognized and reciprocated with your own, familiar one.

~ O ~

Two people who had once been naive and innocent 16-year-olds, spending long afternoons in a traditional tea house downtown.

The same two people who were now jaded and mature 27-year-olds, spending mellow evenings in a sophisticated tea shop in the city.

Soon, the little tea shop had turned into your tiny bubble where you could be themselves again.

It was a haven. It was a home. It was rest.

“How did you know this place?”

Because you could've met in a different place amongst all others, but you chanced upon each other here. In this fated sanctuary.

You dropped two sugar cubes and stirred at your americano before continuing.

“It's barely in the maps, and as far as I’m aware, they aren't fans of advertisements.”

Your nails were cut short like usual. Unmanicured.

“This place is owned by a relative."

“What? Are you telling me your family owns everything in this city?”

Chuckle.

“I don't recall saying that.”

“Not kidding?”

“He’s a cousin, abandoned by my uncle because he was born out of wedlock. When my uncle died, my father looked for him and sent him to school.”

“Then he opened a tea shop?”

“Basically, yes. You’ve never seen him around?”

You hummed contemplatively.

“Does he look like you?”

“Not even a bit.”

You stopped stirring and gently placed the spoon on the napkin. When you raised your gaze, a teasing and enticing smile on your lips, he swore he saw something flash across them. It could've been a trick of light, because after he blinked, it was gone. His heart bursted.

“Then, I haven't noticed him I guess.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He looked into the colors of your eyes.

Akashi Seijuro had always been in awe of how your eyes changed as light struck them in different angles and intensities. Wavelengths shifted out and across, dancing like a kaleidoscope enigmatically.

Tonight, you rested contently at the passenger’s seat, idly watching the streetlights that zoomed past them.

When he stopped the car in front of your place, you tilted youra head to bid him a good night.

It gave him a chance to look closely, to pick apart the poems, riddles and odes written in those eyes. There, he saw the same longing, a glimmer of nostalgia and pain that spoke of the same things his did. You thought about him, too—everyday since the day you said farewells under the Sakura tree.

You have never really moved on from him. What elation it gave him to know that he wasn't the only one left hanging in limbo.

He gave in, bared his heart again for the second time and asked for you to be his.

They say miracles happened all the time. You only had to look carefully. He could attest to that, because as he lost sight of you eyes, lips touching in the most revered and gentlest of ways, hearts reuniting, he could say this was his miracle.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

Time blurred by and swept with it the days of each year. Akashi-kun turned into Seijuro-kun which turned into Sei—just as how seasons shifted to take their turns inevitably.

And for a long time, he had forgotten how it felt to have you by his side.

To have you wait for him to send a message of good morning. To know you were worrying about him when the drizzle turned into a downpour. To know you would love every inch of him, the dips, the rough patches, the jagged edges as if every part of him were perfect.

With his hand secured behind your knees, he walked on the path crusted with dried leaves autumn left in its wake. You had an arm wrapped around his shoulders with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck.

The afternoon sun casted a magenta glow on your light strands of hair. It made the grin on your lips much softer than it looked.

"I better be rewarded for granting your wish, princess."

"Hush, you. You promised to carry me on a piggyback ride when we were younger."

There had been moments like these. Imageries of him and you that he'd frame and keep eternally etched in his heart if he could. Cheeks swelling with magnanimous smiles. Breaths ragged with laughter.

"Sei."

"Hmm?"

"What did you think of me the first time we met?"

A low hum and the lone tea shop downtown came to mind.

"I thought, 'This is the girl I'm going to love for the rest of my life.'"

"Cheesy. Want to know what I thought?"

"What?"

"'This is the man I'm going to marry someday.'"

The reward kiss you gave him after that left the sweetest aftertaste in his lips.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

There had been moments like these, too.

"You're too perfect, Sei.”

“I’m not. Calm down, love. I understand—”

“You do? Look at me and tell me that you really do, Mr. High and Perfect and ‘I-own-everything-even-the-air-you-breathe.’”

Imageries of him and you that he'd rather burn into the cold embers with the ashes to be blown by the gale. He hated to see you hurt, whether it was because of him or not.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Then you’d make up. Nothing dramatic like begging for forgiveness or giving long winded explanations. You knew one of you were at fault, so you accepted it, took each other's hands and nursed your wounds, promising to do better the next time.

At the end of the day it was never for naught, and the kisses you shared in the aftermath were the most affectionate and most desperate of their kind.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

“Sei, take a look at this sketch. Do you think it looks good?”

A wedding gown. It was easily the most gorgeous one he’s ever seen.

“Do you?”

“I think… Yes. I think I like my design.”

“Then it is. There isn't any standard for what is beautiful and what is not. If you ask me, I’d be willing to put it on on our wedding day. Given that you'll have to wear the tuxedo in my stead.”

“My fiancé is one cheeky man, isn't he.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He twirled your hand as you spun around on your feet. Your sense of balance slipped away and you fell, figuratively and literally, towards his welcoming arms. There was no music to match the succeeding taps of your feet in the ground, but he preferred it that way. Your voice was enough music to sway him to submission, his head swimming in ecstasy.

“I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei.”

“Neither should I, love, but here you are.”

~ O ~

Not everyone was fortunate enough to be given a second chance to redo things like they did, and it felt like things had fallen to fit into that perfect puzzle his mind had conjured up in the past, and everything was perfect. At least, that was how he tried convincing himself with. It was perfect. It was supposed to.

But why wasn't it?

Akashi Seijuro didn't know what was missing, what was amiss, what was slowly devouring the special thing they shared. He ignored it, brushed it off as normal for any relationship. Everyone goes through stagnancy like this, right?

Your hands were cold.

He supposed his was, too.

That night when you had promised to meet him by the park so you could stargaze, he started to feel a gaping hole in his chest. When you still hadn't shown up and chauffeur started to send him messages offering to take him home, he knew that hole was rapidly consuming him.

It was raining, the tiny droplets pelting at his skin and soaking him to the bones. He hadn't bothered to open his umbrella and chose to stay on the soil despite the stains marking his pants. Something white moved in his peripheral vision, and the hole grew wider and deeper.

He thought that maybe he should feel something stab through his heart by the way you hesitated to approach him. But the numbness of being battered under the rain for he didn't know how long (—had it been hours? Weeks? Months? Years?), it had overtaken his emotions, caged them, made him feel nothing even though he was likely snapping.

When did it happen?

When he thought you were about to cry, you smiled instead. It was only then when he noticed that the lingering smile he fell in love, over and over and over again, fell colorless, flat, routine.

And it broke his heart even more because it was a smile that said, "I loved you."

~ O ~

If only he knew.

But what could he have done?

~ O ~

And just like that, things started to change drastically. The previously fragile yet somehow stable hands that kept the house of cards from toppling over gone. The dam broke. The balance was thrown off.

Soon, Akashi Seijuro was no longer left to a standstill but was watching everything fall apart with hands tied behind his back. He had never felt so helpless. Not when his pride and name was being smeared over. Not even when he was losing all his friends. The last time he was gobbled up by incapacitating doubt and crippling fear was when his dying mother had cradled his face in her emancipated hands.

Suddenly, he was a young boy again.

But why? he wanted to cry out.

Did he do something wrong? Said something? Wasn't he enough anymore?

If there had been a reason, even the pettiest and most childish reason, he'd be more accepting. Anything. Anything. Really. Anything.

But there wasn't and there was none and when did it happen, no—HOW did it come to this?

He realized that he could no longer muster up the silly thoughts and excuses of ‘maybe the love was right but the timing wasn't’ anymore.

~ O ~

You were changing, distorting, fading. This vessel of you no longer held the soul that once promised him forever.

If he let this go on, he might lose you.

~ O ~

You didn't know what to expect when he called you during work and asked you to meet him at the tea shop. Not the sophisticated one at the heart of the city. But the old one downtown where it all started.

Hands folded. Eyes downcast. Breathing shallow and little at the edge of erratic.

The place had not changed even a bit since the last time you went here as naive teenagers. Except, now there were different sets of customers and you were two different versions of the past. And maybe, if you had the energy and time to look at the far right corner of the establishment, you'd see the new old-fashioned vase sitting on a miniature table.

There were a million things running in his mind—questions he wanted to throw out like why did you waver, why did you give up on us, why can't you fight for us anymore, why aren't you happy anymore, why, why, why. Instead, he settled for:

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Akashi Seijuro had never been one to sugarcoat things. He got straight to the point. Each and every time. You knew that yet you couldn't help the surprise that permeated your gasp.

“You could've said something.”

He pleaded.

"I didn't want to lose you, Sei."

And you did, too.

It was incredibly selfish. So selfish he felt both euphoria and agony squeeze his head to the point of wanting to throw up. His blood screamed at him to keep on holding on for you, for himself. He was trained to be victorious in every single thing, wasn't he? This shouldn't be any different.

But you weren't a game. You weren't his diary. And you weren't his springtime.

You were someone he loved endlessly and mercilessly.

“This isn't going to work anymore.”

“No, no, no, no—wait, let me try again. I can do it! I can try again for—”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes! Sei, I could never not love you!”

“Tell me, princess.”

“Sei—”

“Are you still in love with me?”

You froze, and his heart broke. He knew you wanted to say yes. He could tell by the way your hands stiffened in his. But you hesitated, looked at him imploringly and begged him not to make you say it out loud.

“I thought so.”

“Please don't let me go. I can’t be without you.”

You eyes, coated with a sheen of desperation and despair, spoke in volumes that threatened to deafen him. Let you go. Let you stay. Let you live. Smother you. His heart was a battlefield—a clash between his feelings and his desires.

If he could, he’d cry, too. Instead, he opened his mouth. “I want you to be happy…”

Gently, he released your hands before gingerly, tenderly wiping away the tears on your face.

“...even if it means I’ll no longer be in the picture. You have to grow without me, and I without you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours as he listened to the muffled cries and empty heaves.

He wished that time could be kinder to him to slow down. To hear his pleas to pause in this moment where you were still his, because once you walked out that door, you would no longer be his while he was still yours.

“Promise me, that if after years your heart still calls for me… promise me you'll be the one to come and look for me. Choose me again.”

~ O ~

What was it that they said about in the movies? No matter how tasteless some of them were, he couldn't deny the realistic accuracy they spun around in their tales with only slight exaggerations.

They said third time's a charm.

And surely it was.

For the sake of being poetic, he had wanted to say the place where it all began was also where it was going to end. In that cheap vintage teashop downtown where they had lived in their own little bubble.

He was glad that wasn't the case.

As you walked with a grace that made his legs grow weak and his heart to quicken, he couldn't think of when you had been this painfully, breathtakingly beautiful.

In a sea of black, your long white dress stood out like the moon in the blanket of black skies.

You spotted him instantly, eye glazed with indecipherable emotion as you flashed him the most surreal smile he’d seen.

Back then when he broke it up with you, he hadn't known if he did the right thing. One made choices to move forward, but the consequences could only be reviewed in retrospect. Regrets and remorse were common, but just as satisfaction and rejoicing were.

You came closer, glanced softly at him, and he swore that both of them heard the words you had told him once upon a time.

"I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei."

He looked at you longingly during that small slice of time, and all the memories came rushing back to him. He remembered the smile you would give him. You always had such a beautiful smile. He wished he could've seen more of it.

He regarded you fondly, told you he loved you without any spoken words and shook his head before stepping aside.

“No, you deserve this.”

Your groom's hand grasped yours. Smiles were exchanged. Intimate gaze returned. Vows already said even before you reached the altar.

Amidst all the heart-wrenching, searing loss and pain, you found solace. You found forgiveness, and through it, healing. And now that you belonged to someone else, but he wouldn't count this as a loss.

After all, he was able to preserve that smile. He finally learned to let go albeit willingly and happily, and entrusted you to his cousin whom he knew would love you more than he ever did.

And while Akashi Seijuro wasn't a religious man, he sent a silent prayer to the One who made you.

Take care of her for me.

And that's a wrap, everyone! If you made it this far, MUCH THANKS. I remember writing this piece in my room at midnight 3 years ago. This fic is actually inspired by this Filipino song, "Paubaya". It's quite a lovely song sang by a very talented singer and songwriter.

As you've all noticed, this is heavily Akashi-centric. It was written all in his POV, and I made sure to insert some aspects and key memories of his life into it.

To be clear, reader did not cheat on Akashi with his cousin. Reader-chan fell out of love, and to some extent, Akashi did too. It happens. It's a sad reality.

Lastly, can anyone guess who Akashi's cousin is? *wink wink*

Anyhow, thank you once again everyone. I'm elated to have been able to post something again after years. Thank you! ^^

#akashi seijuro x reader #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuurou x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #the basketball which kuroko plays #akashi seijuurou #knb fanfic #tenkasato writes

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kleftiko · 11 months

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Headcanons for Murasakibara giving his s/o aggressive headpats? He'd shake their head around like a joystick 25/8

❦ HEAD PATS

cw: none, this is fluff, height difference (which is likely unless you’re 6”11), mentions of food

* this man is a giant, so you know he’s always commenting on your height—doesn’t matter how tall you are, chances are you’re shorter than him

* “ahh, y/n-chin… you need to eat so you’ll grow…”

* you’re also an arm rest when he’s tired of standing, you’ll feel the weight on your head as he slumps and you’re genuinely surprised your neck doesn’t snap with all his weight.

* it’s also the most common form of affection he gives you:

* head pats for a good job

* cradling your head to his chest when you wanna cry

* playing with your hair when you’re sleepy

* the whole shabang, it’s actually adorable

* so its only natural when you two go to the arcade with some friends and your pouty boyfriend has to wait for his turn on the racing game that he pulls you closer to him as he sips his soda

* his disinterested eyes are completely focused on the game while you watch him

* you can see the hand holding his soda drift a little to the left and right, following the steering wheel and track

* then you start to feel the hand atop your head move

* forward, left

* a turn comes up

* two back, right

* he’s using your head as a gearshift

* and the last lap is coming up, murasakibara’s actions get a little more jittery

* it’s almost like he’s driving himself, trying to get to first place despite not having an avatar in the game or the fact that his wheel is soda

* you’re about to tell him something because he’s getting less delicate with his movements, shaking you around like a rag doll

* “atsushi”

* nothing

* “atsushi!”

* he lets go of your head, eyes casting downwards towards you as he looks a little confused

* “gearshifts don’t speak, y/n-chin”

#knb imagines #knb x you #knb fanfic #knb headcanons #knb x reader #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basuke x reader #murasakibara atsushi #knb murasakibara #murasakibara fluff #murasakibara x reader

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summer-nights19 · 6 months

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Hi! I was wondering how would GOM + Takao react to their s/o having mood swings during their period like one moment their s/o is normal and the next they are angry because their ice cream isn't cold enough to eat and it's melting and they put it in freezer and when they try to eat the ice cream again it's too cold to eat and their gums hurt. Sorry if it's confusing..

Hi anon ! No worries, I think I understood the assignment (hopefully), and I symparthise with you deeply. Period mood swings are the worst :< These kinda ended up being general period comfort hcs, hope that's ok too ! Anyway, here's some comfort with the boys <33

GoM + Takao x afab reader on their period

Aomine

When he sees how annoyed you get over your ice cream being half melted, he's a little taken aback. If you guys haven't been together for very long, he'd probably tell you to calm down or be confused. However, if it's been some time, he'll figure it out quickly enough.

Will put the ice cream back in the freezer for you and bring you some hot cocoa and a hot water bottle to help you feel more relaxed and to make the cramps more bearable.

When you take the ice cream out of the freezer again and hurt your gums, he probably tries to comfort you, although he isn't good with words

Instead, he brings you some other snack, like fruits or cake, and lets you snuggle with him.

Initially, he tries to get you to do a light work out with him to make the pain better, even if you aren't particularly athletic

Will definitely massage your uterus area and shoulders to help you relax, as well as stroke and kiss you all over (he's really good at it too)

Might make a joke about how orgasms are the best way to relieve period pains, but if you're in a truly terrible mood, he'll hold his tongue.

Still teases you, though he'll stop and apologize if you seem genuinely upset

Will make sure anyone who gives you grief or makes your mood swings worse regrets it really quickly

doesn't have pads in the bathroom for you but will happily go out to the store and get you anything you need

Still takes baths with you and will wash your hair and massage you in the bathtub- doesn't really give a fuck about the blood

"What size pussy do you have, babe ?"

Kise

When he sees how quickly your mood changes as a result of the ice cream being half melted, he figures it out pretty much right away.

He'll hug you and run his hands down your back, while reassuring you that it's not that serious, and that you can always eat something else. Puts the ice cream back in the freezer and comes up with skincare, makeup, candles, magazines... all the essentials for a self care night ! (If you ask nicely, he'l even let you do his makeup- he secretly loves it)

Lets you choose what show to watch and chats with you about anything and everything as you have your self care night with the show in the background

When you get the ice cream from the freezer again and your gums start to hurt, he'll kiss you better

Also strikes me as the kinda guy who would keep pads/tampons in his bathroom for you

Akashi

This man can pretty much sense when you're on your period, it's actually kinda unsettling

Anyway, as soon as he realizes you're having a bad day with your mood swings, he'll start treating you like royalty (even more so than normal)

Suggests that you eat something else and comes back with some warm noodles

He gives you massages all over- thighs, back, shoulders... all while reassuring you that you'll figure everything out, that it just seems like a massive deal now

Promises you that you can take one of his eyes if he ends up being wrong (yea this man is really something else)

Will bring you candles/flowers and just snuggle with you quietly as you rest

Happily listens to you vent if you feel the need to

Will be happy to help with any schoolwork you have due

Will personally see to it that anyone who tries bother you is too scared to talk to you ever again.

Like Kise, he also keeps pads in the bathroom for you

Murasakibara

Doesn't realize you're on your period until your cramps and mood swings get really bad

He's not particularly good at comforting you when you're in a bad mood, but he'll carry you upstairs to his bed and snuggle with you. He'll even get out of bed to get you a hot water bottle and some hot chocolate

Gives you one of his hoodies to sleep in. It's way too big for you and he thinks you look adorable in it

Stays and snuggles with you until you feel better (you end up falling asleep with your head on his chest and your limbs intertwined)

When you wake up, he'll bring some snacks from his personal stock and share them with you

Is too lazy to go to the store to buy you pads/tampons, so he'll just call Himuro and ask him to do it

Like Akashi and Aomine, he won't take kindly to people upsetting you, especially when you're on your period.

Kuroko

He's oblivious- he understands you're in a bad mood, and wants to help, but you have to spell it out for him before he realizes that you're on your period.

He's a little shy and awkward, partially because he isn't sure about what he should do, but he very much wants to make it better

Definitely asks Kagami and the Seirin guys for advice and they all look at him like wtf

Will listen to you rant for hours on end, and will be more than happy to comfort you and give you advice

Anything you ask him to do, he does- buy pads, make you dinner, put a specific programme on the TV... he's doing it as soon as you say the word

Also very happy to massage your shoulders and uterus, even tough he isn't really sure about how to do it

Will be very careful about how he talks to you and conducts himself- he doesn't accidentally want to make it worse

Literally your number one fan if you start to doubt yourself, he's so sweet

"You always look stunning, Y/N,"

Won't snuggle with you unless you ask for it because he doesn't want to invade your personal space too much (he's such a gentleman)

Midorima

God help you

He's really really awkward about it

Figures it out relatively quickly from your mood swings but pretends he doesn't because he has no clue how to act

Like Kuroko, he's really careful about how he behaves around you because he wants to avoid pissing you off

Will try to be patient and listen to you rant nonsensically- if he knows you're having a bad day, he'll do his best to comfort you, although he's mostly the kinda guy who tries to find rational solutions to problems instead of telling you what you want to hear

Reads your zodiac chart every day and gives you advice based off of it. Also brings you a lucky item of your own if you're really feeling down (at least he tried)

However, if someone tries to mess with you, his energy completely changes and he'll make sure they don't do it again

Will buy you pads/tampons, though he'll be really awkward about it

Takao

At first he just thought you were in a bad mood, then he suddenly realised that you were probably on your period

Teases you a lot less to avoid hurting your feelings

Like Aomine, he'll probably make a joke about how orgasms are the best way to cure period cramps, but he'll shut up if you tell him to

Comforts you for hours on end wen you're down - he couldn't live with himself if he knew you were sad and he wasn't there to support you

Laughter is a medically proven medicine

Will tell you jokes and funny stories to take your mind off of the mental (and physical) pain

Also spams you with memes and tiktoks

Very happy to take it easy and just cuddle in bed while watching shitty TV

Will go to the store and buy you pads/tampons without an ounce of hesitation

Masterlist

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