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heaven-s-black-box · 18 days

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Not so Subtle- Aomine x fem!Reader

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Recovery date: April 8th, 2024

Description: Hiii omg could you write something for Aomine Daiki? Female reader, tall, large chest and midsize pretty please 🙏🏽 Ok, so it would take place after Seirin's win of the Winter Cup (so he's less of an asshole, but still yk). New girl student, settling in really good, she's pretty, funny, confident and witty. So he can only like, like her. They banter a lot and get friends really fast, fall in love, yadayada. Summed up: friends to lover, female/tall/witty/large chest/midsize reader OH! Bonus if you can make a scene with Kagami showing some interest in her.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. I had a ton of fun writing this! The reader's physical appearance doesn't come up much, but as I was writing i considered her to be around 5'10" so she was slightly taller than Momoi and slightly shorter than Aomine. Also, reader's conversation with Kagami can be interpreted as having visited or being from America.

Word count: 1 923

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Starting at a new school halfway through the year is a terrible experience. The easiest way to make new friends is to bond over being in a new environment, having few to no friends, and the stress of exams. Showing up in January skips over all of that and leaves you to make new friends with your own social skills.

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I join you guys for lunch?”

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I be on your team today?”

“Oh, hey, you walk home this way too? I’m L/n Y/n.”

Y/n has no idea why her parents were so worried about starting her in a new school so late in the year. This was easy. Sure not everyone she talked with ended up being her friend, but she’d somehow ended up involved with the basketball team.

Scratch that, she knew exactly how she’d wound up as one of the basketball team’s managers.

“Y/n-chan!” Momoi squeals, through herself at the other woman’s back.

Momoi’s arms wrap around Y/n’s shoulders and the woman leans forward so that Momoi is laying on her back as they both laugh. When Y/n stands back up Momoi carefully drops back to the floor and links their arms together.

“Sa-chan, welcome back. Over your cold?”

“Mhm.”

The two continued over to the gym. Momoi was practically leaning against Y/n with her head on the taller woman’s shoulder as she complained about the last few days.

“Dai-chan didn’t even visit me! Let’s see how he likes it when I don’t visit him next time he’s sick. He probably wasn’t even practicing,” she grumbled.

“Hate to break it to you but he was.”

“Of course he was, seriously, I thought losing to Seirin-”

“No, I mean he was practicing.”

Momoi stopped, hand outstretched to the gym door, and turned to face Y/n. The annoyed pout she’d been sporting during her rant morphed into a wide smile.

“Really?! I’m so glad.”

Y/n laughed, reaching past Momoi and opening the door.

“I mean, I had to hunt him down yesterday because he skipped class and fell asleep, but ya he's been-”

The squeaking sound of shoes on the gym floor, followed by a dunk and yelling cut her off. The managers looked over to the hoop on the far end of the court and found Aomine being chewed out by Wakamatsu. Aomine’s attention, however, was drawn towards the women as the sound of the door closing echoed through the gym. He waved, turning Wakamatsu’s attention away from him and allowing him to slip away to the stage.

“Momoi, welcome back, are you feeling better?”

“Much, thank you!”

“Aomine!” Y/n yelled, stopping the forward half way across the gym. “Apologize.”

“I didn’t do shit!”

“That’s the problem!” Wakamatsu complained. “You absolutely could have stopped that dunk.”

“Dai-chan-”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” All eyes turned to Y/n who’d taken a seat on the stage. “I mean, I’m sure that red haired dude from Seirin would love to get some dunks past him, Aomine’s just being considerate.”

“Hah?”

The rest of the team turned away, covering their mouths, to stifle their laughter as Aomine’s face visibly twitched in annoyance. Momoi cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“Dai-chan, practice seriously. Seirin will be here soon.”

It was still weird for the team to see Aomine listen to people. Sure he dragged his feet plenty, in this case literally as he made his way back to Wakamatsu and the rest of the team, but since the Winter cup he was seemingly more open to suggestions. And when suggestions didn’t work, the new manager seemed adept at getting under his skin enough to make him want to do whatever it was he needed to.

Momoi joined Y/n on the stage and pulled her clipboard out of her bag.

“He likes you,” Momoi whispered as she flipped through papers to find her notes on Seirin.

“Not this again.”

“He listens to you, he doesn’t even listen to me!”

“He listens to you.”

“Only if he already wants to do whatever it is, remember last week when we were studying? He tried to take a nap and he only went back to studying after you asked.”

“Okay, he likes me… as a friend that he acknowledges won’t deal with his bullshit.”

Momoi rolls her eyes and hands Y/n the clipboard before resting her chin on her shoulder to see the paper.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Momoi muttered. “Alright, so…”

As the team got some last minute practice in, Momoi gave Y/n a last minute crash course on Seirin.

Just as they were getting to the bench players, Momoi’s phone rang.

“Tetsu!” She squealed as she accepted the call and slid off the stage. The team stopped practicing and Wakamatsu got everyone to start cleaning up. “How did you guys get lost?”

“Yo.” Y/n looked to her right to find Aomine leaning against the stage. He slid a piece of paper over to her feet, the number 74 was written and circled in red marker. “Thanks.”

“Seventy-four, nice.” She picked up the test and gave it a quick once over. “Impressive, you didn’t get a zero on any of the questions.”

“Ya, well I had an okay teacher.”

“Sa-chan got a ninety and I got a ninety-eight, so you own us ice-cream today.”

Rolling his eyes, Aomine snatched back his test and stuffed it in his bag.

“Sorry we’re late!” A chorus of voices called out.

The two first years turned to find the Seirin basketball team, being led in by Momoi, taking their shoes off. Momoi skipped over to her friends and grabbed Y/n’s hands, pulling her from the stage.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet!”

“Alright, I’m coming. We’ll talk more after the game, Aomine!”

---

Tōō won, ending twenty points ahead of Seirin. Not unexpectedly as Kuroko’s misdirection was completely useless and Kiyoshi was gone. What was unexpected was the way Aomine seemed to be targeting Kagami, whether that be scoring through Seirin’s ace or shutting down as many of his scoring attempts as possible. During the break after the first half, Wakamtsu had chewed the ace out for showing off.

“We’re winning, aren’t we?”

“This isn’t about winning, it’s about getting better!”

Aomine had just shrugged.

“I think he’s jealous,” Momoi whispered after the players had left at the end of the break.

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“I think it’s because you were talking with Kagami.”

“You were the one who said I should meet him,” Y/n huffed.

“I had to test a theory.”

“What theory?”

Momoi glanced over at Y/n, but was cut off by the coach clearing his throat.

Seirin headed out almost immediately after the game, while the Tōō players cleaned the gym. This time, Y/n walked them back to the bus stop so that they wouldn't get lost again. When she got back, she found Aomine sitting on the steps with her bag.

“Where’s Sa-chan?”

“She left, said she was feeling kind of tired and wanted a rain check on her ice-cream.”

Aomine handed Y/n her bag, and the two made their way to the school entrance.

“No post-match debriefing today?”

“I have no idea, everyone was being weird as fuck.”

Y/n nodded slowly. It was a logical conclusion that Momoi had introduced her to Kagami to make Aomine jealous, and that she’d convinced the team to clear out before she got back so that they’d be alone. Skipping ahead, Y/n turned around to face Aomine and kept walking backwards. It didn’t seem like they were being watched.

“Speaking of weird as fuck-oof.”

“Wall.”

“Fuck you,” Y/n grumbled, making Aomine laugh as she stepped around the wall and on to the sidewalk. “What was up during today’s game?”

“What about it?”

“Sa-chan thinks you’re jealous.”

“Tch, jealous of what?”

Y/n shrugged. “Race you to the convenience store!”

“Hey!”

Obviously Y/n didn’t plan to win. Aomine pulled ahead of her almost immediately, once he recovered from the surprise, and maintained a decent lead to arrive at the store just before her without leaving her completely in the dust. He laughed as she finally arrived and immediately collapsed against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath.

“So, what’s my prize?” He grins, bracing an arm above her and leaning in so they were eye level.

She raised her index finger to his face.

“Would you like to cash your prize in now or save up?”

“Why did Satsuki say I was jealous?”

“That’s what you want your prize to be?”

Y/n straightened up and joined Aomine in leaning sideways against the wall.

“Answer the question or you’re buying ice-cream.”

“Ah.”

Pushing off the wall, Y/n grabbed the front of Aomine’s shirt and pulled him into the store after her. The two made a B-line for the frozen section at the back.

“She thought you’d be jealous I was talking with Kagami,” Y/n shrugged, picking up Aomine’s favorite popsicle and her own.

The sound of the freezer closing filled the store, and the buzzing of the lights seemed incredibly loud in the silence that followed. Y/n looked over at Aomine to find him staring at her. She held out his popsicle, waving in front of his face when he didn’t immediately take it.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Huh?”

“You and Kagami. Why was he blushing?”

“Oh my god you’re jealous,” Y/n mumbled.

Aomine grabbed his popsicle and pushed the back of her head as he walked towards the counter. A wide grin spread across Y/n’s face as she chased after him, setting her treat next to his.

“We were talking about America and he was blushing because I said it was cute that he and his brother have matching rings.”

“Don’t call him cute.”

“I didn’t call him cute, I called the idea of having matching rings cute.”

“I could get us matching rings,” Aomine muttered.

The sound of the convenience store bell nearly drowned his voice out as they left the store, but Y/n was right on his heels and barely caught it.

“Sa-chan also said you like me.”

Y/n ran right into Aomine’s back when he stopped suddenly. She watched the back of his head as she unwrapped her treat and started eating.

“I think it’s funny that everyone thinks I haven’t figured it out.” Aomine’s shoulders tense up. “I mean, I wouldn’t say you’re subtle when you look at my boobs.”

Y/n gently kicks the back of Aomine’s heel, urging him to keep walking. When he didn’t move she sidestepped him and started walking in front of him.

When he didn’t keep walking with her, she turned around.

He didn’t look stunned, definitely flushed, but he looked impatient– like he’d been waiting for her to turn around. Y/n inclined her head.

“You could’ve said something.”

“I could’ve,” Y/n shrugged as she walked back up to Aomine. “But I wanted to see the great Aomine grovel, just a bit.”

He frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you need to ask me out.”

“Go out with me.”

Y/n sighed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Nope, now let’s go get burgers.”

Aomine opened his popsicle and wrapped his free arm around Y/n’s shoulder as the two headed down the street.

#researcher s's recovery #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #knb x reader #aomine daiki #aomine x reader #x reader #female reader #oneshot #knb oneshot #fluff

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selmasemlan · 1 year

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Life is good

Author note: I was .......inspired and with Valentine closing up.......feeling a little depressed and sad, and Aomine Daiki just has a soothing effect on me.

Warnings: None, just a whole lot of freaking fluff, wishing he was real right now.

Word count: 864

Song inspiration: some playlist on youtube

Imagine....

He was staring.

Yes, he knew he was staring but could you blame him? There are not a lot of things he likes to watch. The majority of programs and shows these days weren't amusing. He found himself bored most of the time. His magazines no longer kept him entertained. God knows no one stood a chance against him in basketball. Ever since Kagami moved back to America, basketball wasn't the same. The miracles kept him occupied, but they didn't meet as often. Everyone had their own life to live.

Kise was off travelling with all kinds of different modelling gigs and even landing acting jobs. Kuroko was somehow living peacefully as a kindergarten teacher. Murasakibara was running his own bakery, which shockingly is flourishing. Midorima was off in the medical field and saving lives. Akaashi had finally taken over his father's dynasty and was perfect about doing it. No shock there. Daiki couldn't help but compare his life with theirs. It wasn't that he thought they had it better, but sometimes he couldn't help but think that he hadn't accomplished as much as them.

During those times, something or more like someone would remind him that his life may not be luxurious with constant new challenges and entertainment on a screen or paper. But he was lucky to own what he had. That someone would be you.

You are standing in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. He thanks God every day for gifting him you, cause he could´nt cook for his life. But you, you were amazing at it. The way you entered the kitchen as if it was your domain. You could make any sort of food, new or old, and it would be delicious. Daiki never had a complaint about any food that was made by your hands. The trust he had in you was unmatched.

But today was different.

"Sweetcheeks, you´re supposed to rest. You have been on your feet for too long"

He rises from the sofa and walks over to you. He grabs the bowl in your hand at puts it on the counter. He then turns to you and takes a hold of your forearms. You can only pout at him. You have been having cravings like no other for far too long and you just want to satisfy them. You do understand where he is coming from. The doctor did tell you to rest and not to overwork yourself, but you love cooking. For you, it feels weird not cooking the food at home.

"Baby I know you wanna feed us, but you have to think about yourself, your health and the baby's health too"

Your pout deepens. You hold your hand over your swollen stomach. You are looking forward to this baby coming out. Being 6 months pregnant was not easy, especially with a husband that is as protective as Daiki is with you and the baby. Not to mention that the doctors are worried about you and keep telling you to rest when you just wanna move around like normal.

"Daiki, we both know you can´t cook to save your life. We can´t keep eating out, now that is not healthy"

Daiki only chuckles softly and hugs you as tightly as he can with your stomach.

"My sweet sweet wife. Always prioritizing everyone over herself."

You smile, but hide it from him while lightly hitting him. He was corny but you loved him very much. You feel blessed to be the one person he acts like this with. This was your special Daiki, your husband. There is no one else you would wanna spend the rest of your life with but him. He feels the same way. There was and never has been anyone more perfect like you. Even though you like to tell him that you are not perfect, he always insists that you're wrong.

"Come on baby, you got the food in the oven and the dessert is standing right here in front of me. What more do you need to do?"

You blush lightly and hide your face in his chest. He hugs you a little tighter and kisses your forehead.

"Let's go"

He lets go of you but doesn't stay far away for long. He grabs the back of your knees while he has an arm around your shoulders and lifts you. You giggle and hide your face in his neck and he walks with you to the sofa. He leaves you on the sofa and goes back to the kitchen. You try to look over your shoulder to see what he is doing, but he is already on his way back. In his hand, he has brought your tea and a snack. He lays it down on the table. While he sits down, he brings a fuzzy blanket with him and covers you both with it.

"I got you" he says and kisses your temple and hugs you to his chest.

Honestly, he was right. The cleaning could wait.

It was cuddle time anyways.

#Aomine Daiki #aomine x reader #aomine daiki x reader #aomine daiki fic #aomine daiki oneshot #aomine daiki imagine #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basket fic #kuroko no basket oneshot #selmasemlan fic

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creampie-capital · 1 year

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ᴠᴀʀɪᴇᴛʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ━━━➤

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳✦「ᴀꜰʟ」 𝟏𝟖+ 「ᴘᴡᴘ」✦ ━━━➤ 「ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ」

↳✦「𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞║Monster Various x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳✦「𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲║ Anime Various Oneshots x Reader」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲

↳✦「𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝║Kuroko no Basket Various x Reader」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

↳✦「𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲║Genshin Impact NSFW Alphabet x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ━━━➤

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳✦「𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬║Yandere! Various! Mythological Gods x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬

↳✦「𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫║Yandere! Alien! Emperor x Reader x Various!𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫

↳✦「𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭║Yandere! Husband! x Reader x Platonic! Son 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

ᴍɪꜱᴄᴇʟʟᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ━━━➤

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳✦「𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫║Nanami Kento x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫

↳✦「𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀║ Eustass Kid x Reader 𝟏𝟖+✦ ━━━➤ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀

↳✦「𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐠║Male! Orc x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐠

↳✦「𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤 & 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬║Donquixote Doflamingo x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ'ꜱ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴠᴇꜱ║ᴇᴘɪꜱᴛʟᴇ 𝗜

↳✦「𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐜║Kuroko no Basket Various x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐜

↳✦「𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲║Kakuzu x Reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲║𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬

↳✦「𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥║Gojo Satoru x reader 𝟏𝟖+」✦ ━━━➤ 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥

↳✦「𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭║Platonic! Diabolik Lovers x OC (HIATUS)」✦ ━━━➤ Ｆｉｒｓｔ　Ｉｍｐｒｅｓｓｉｏｎｓ　の印

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beneathashadytree · 1 year

Note

Hello! Can I request Aomine Daiki with a gn! s/o that plays volleyball as a libero like Nishinoya from haikyuu

MATCH MADE ON COURT - AOMINE DAIKI X READER

Warnings : this is mostly set in college, a few suggestive lines (Aomine is incorrigible /lh), this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <3

Word count : 1.0K words

Additional notes : I apologize for having taken so long. I’ve been through a very… traumatic event recently, and I haven’t been able to recover as much as I would’ve liked to. I hope you’re alright with me having only just gotten to your request! Now, I would like to warn you nonnie that my knowledge is severely limited, since before watching Haikyuu the only sport I was invested in was professional swimming, so this will be a little vague in terms of the actual sport. Aside from that, I really hope you enjoy this!🥰

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

Aomine’s a self-renowned bastard, and every part of him takes pride in pissing people off and stunning them with just how incredibly talented he is, despite his lackadaisical nature

They don’t know how much he truly loves basketball, and how it’s been the only thing he was ever passionate about—hence why the lack of competition made him slowly lose interest

However, what they don’t know is that another part of his heart is completely and utterly owned by his partner

They’d met in their last year of high school, both of them having applied to the same university and attending the exam together

For once in his life, someone’s presence felt large enough for his curiosity to be piqued; he knew that only brilliant people applied for that university and for only one of two reasons: academic excellence, or immense talent for sport

Given the way they carried themselves with a straight back, hard-set eyes, and assurance in their gait, he could easily tell that they were an athlete just like him

He found himself introducing himself to them, his cocky attitude as much of an annoyance to them as it was intriguing, and they seemed engaged in the conversation

One thing led to another, and by the time they’d both started university, Aomine was sure of the fact that he wanted to get together with them; a feeling he’d had for the first time in his life

The feeling only grew stronger with the beginning of the academic year, as he saw just how incredible they are on court

He’d only been passing by the sports complex when he’d seen them mid-practice, muscles flexed and tensed as they received every ball with unwavering concentration on their face

Man could’ve sworn he’d fallen in love right then and there; they’re smart, hot, fun to be around, AND ridiculously talented?!

He’d have to be stupid to let the chance slip through his fingers, so he walked them right up to their flat that night, asking them if they had the time to squeeze in over the weekend between their practices

Arching their brow, they chuckled, understanding that this was his way of asking them out, and quickly agreed to a lunch date after their respective practices

Much to his surprise, they came to watch his practice that day, smirking and telling him that they were “only returning the favor”, which resulted in a flustered Aomine having gotten caught in the act

A few more dates down the line that surprisingly enough felt less like tense formalities and more like the most comforting way to wind down after the fatigue of aching muscles, they surprised him by being the first to ask him if he would be their boyfriend

Once again rendered (pleasantly) speechless by their courage and daring, he felt like putty in their hands and couldn’t have possibly agreed faster

Given his… inclinations and preferences, he’d be pretty insufferable at first with his erotic magazines and absolutely horrible pervy comments

But after visiting them at practice a couple of times, he soon realized that he had no need for that when he’s got a ridiculously attractive partner, working out and sweating in front of him whenever he has the time to see them—and yes, he makes lewd commentary as he deems fitting, earning a fond roll of their eyes

In fact, that’s the very reason he initiated their daily workout plans; part of him genuinely wanted to spend time with them as they exercised side by side, while the other part of him reveled in the sight of them panting, their skin glistening and their eyes darkened with focus

To be honest, that hardworking quality of theirs had to be the single sexiest thing in the world to him

When it comes to games, Aomine’s their number one supporter, all decked out in matching colors (them being a libero with different colored fits is a perk, since it makes him stand out as their partner by proxy)

He’s the first to cuss at the ref and nearly get kicked out of the stands (multiple times) whenever they make an unfair call

When they get subbed out momentarily during rotations, he’s quick to lean over the stands, grinning wickedly as he whispers malicious words of encouragement in their ear (they’re more like threats to their opponents, to be honest)

If it’s a win, this man’s instantly dragging them out for a drink at a cozy restaurant, celebrating it with their loved ones (though if he had to admit, he much prefers it when they’re on their own)

If it’s a loss, Aomine’s dragging their ass back home for some cuddles he “reluctantly” gives them—even though the barely-perceptible blush on his cheeks says otherwise—and repeatedly reassuring them that he knows them well enough and believes in them wholeheartedly that they would pick themselves back up

When he’s in a particularly romantic mood, he gets Momoe to help him make them matching felt bracelets, just so they could wear them on court; a statement of sorts that they were together

They make sure to lavish him with affections in return whenever it’s his turn to have practice, where they ogle him openly (I mean, who wouldn’t?) and appreciatively tell him as much, which absolutely inflates his ego to unseen-before-heights

The first time they showed up at a game of his, all decked out in his jersey and wearing their matching bracelet, he could’ve sworn he felt a little lightheaded with how dazed that sight made him

It only encourages him to further beat their opponents’ asses, partially because he’s just that fired up, and partially to show off to his lovely partner

And if they happen to kiss him right in front of the stands because his admirers were being all too much and the tiny bit of possessiveness in them had won over?

Well, Aomine had zero qualms about that—in fact, he’d smirk into that kiss and only pull them in closer; the bigger the spectacle the better!

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna

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fierysafrina · 6 months

Text

It'll be okay | Nash Gold Jr. part 3 of Afterglow

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket Rating: General Word Count: 2.300 Genre: Slice of Life | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Romance Summary: When your past catches up to you, Nash is there to hold you. Notes: I know it's been hella long time since I last posted anything and for that I apologise. Everything has been piling up so much that I really needed to write something out.

Stretching your legs, you turn in your bed when the first breeze of wind startles you. A chill runs down your spine, goosebumps on your arms before you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself. Something is missing, but you don’t know exactly what.

Opening one eye, you narrow your eyebrows, expecting the sun only to be met with nothing. A whine escapes your lips as you turn, hating the fact you woke up much earlier than intended. You’re expecting something, a warmth on the other side of the bed, but there’s nothing. It’s cold and empty and it makes you open your eyes to look around.

There’s no sign of anyone but you being here. There’s silence and neither your dog is found anywhere. You whistle for Spot, expecting him to come running into the bedroom and jump on your bed, but you’re waiting for nothing.

You wait a minute, two, before you decide to look for your dog. Standing up, you unconsciously stretch your arms as you slip into the slippers and leave the bedroom.

“Spot?” you call quietly, looking around the living room.

You expect him to be lying on the couch, like he usually does, but he's not there. Narrowing your eyebrows, you walk towards the kitchen, expecting Nash, but he's not there either. Closing your eyes, you take in a shaky breath, leaning on the doorway of the living room when you hear a whistle. It's followed by a bark and you realise it's coming from the outside.

Walking towards the door that leads onto the terrace, you open and the first thing you see coming from the forest is Spot. He's looking behind, but like he's sensing you, he turns his head in front and paces up until he almost sends you to the floor. You laugh and rub his head and torso when he leans deeper into your touch.

“Did we wake you up?” Nash's voice makes you look at him.

You shake your head, smiling. “Just woke up, actually.”

Nash approaches you and he leans down, kissing you directly on the lips. You're still not used to the affection he's suddenly showering you with, but it feels nice. Spot decides it's a brilliant idea to run past you inside, which makes you stumble.

“Spot.” Nash calls in a warning tone, sending him a rather playful glare.

Looking at your dog, you see his ears deflate and head low as he stares at you both. You're shaking your head, more amused at how close they've already become. Despite knowing Spot has always been fond of people he knows, he definitely wasn’t kind to strangers and it took him time to warm up to someone.

"Wanna grab a bite at the diner?" Nash wraps an arm around you before he kisses you on the lips.

A smile spreads across your lips as you nod. "Sounds perfect…" you murmur.

You hear Spot barking from inside, but you don't mind. You let Nash lead you inside. He sits you down in the kitchen and you watch him walk towards the stove when the smell of coffee hits you. Your heart skips a beat when you realise that he made some for you before he left with Spot.

You’re sitting outside the diner, with Spot by your feet. Looking around, you notice a couple of people you got to know in the time you live here. They smile at you, greeting that you return without hesitation before their eyes fall on Nash. You can see the recognition in their gaze that only proves your assumption when they begin to talk to each other.

Turning to Nash, you’re about to tell him, but he’s already looking at you. He raises an eyebrow, like he wonders what you’ll say, only for you to remain quiet instead. You feel your cheeks burn at the intensity that makes you avoid his gaze, feeling your voice being caught in your throat.

Reaching for your cup, you take a sip, finding more interest in anything else but the man sitting in front of you.

Nash chuckles as he says; “What’s gotten you so silent now?” in a teasing manner. “Cat got your tongue?”

You send him a glare, but remain quiet. You play with your fingers, glancing at Spot, who remains lying. He turns his head occasionally, but remains by your side. And then you spot it. A child, no older than five years, is running towards your table, or more precisely, to Nash with a wide smile that could rival anyone’s.

“Hi!” he greets, his eyes shining brightly as he stares up at Nash.

A smile on his lips and Nash is greeting the boy back, who asks him for an autograph while his small hands hold onto a notebook and a pen. You watch in slight amusement at how smitten he looks for the boy and suddenly you wonder how your children would look.

Shaking your head, Nash catches your gaze like he knows what you’re thinking about. You feel your cheeks heat up and turn to look at the boy, who’s running back to his mother, jumping from joy as he shows what Nash signed. You smile softly, knowing the boy will cherish it for a long time.

And as much as you wish to have a child, you're reminded of all those days and times you spent awake late at night, wondering why men keep on ghosting you. When you went on a hike and a few teens made fun of you for not being a size 4 just because you weren’t in form. How you were never even a chance when you were out with friends and men were hitting on them, making you feel like an outcast instead.

You startle when Nash reaches for your hand. His gaze is filled with worry and it makes you wonder when he’ll get sick of you. When will he stop coming? When will he stop texting you?

“You okay?” he asks.

You’re not sure what expression you’re making, but it’s obvious Nash doesn’t buy your excuse: “I’m fine,” for a second.

But he doesn’t pry.

And it makes you wonder just how much he truly likes you.

The drive back to the cabin is rather quiet. Nash tries to talk to you, but your short replies soon make him give up. He holds your hand while driving, yet it doesn’t seem like it bothers him too much. The silence, that is.

You nibble on your lower lip, your thoughts loud.

You’re not sure when you arrive back to the cabin; not until Nash is looking at you. He might have said something, you’re not sure, so you wait for him to repeat it. Except that he doesn’t. He remains quiet, his eyes looking straight into yours until you’re the first to avoid his gaze.

“Don’t avoid me.” He’s the first to break the silence.

Turning his way once again, Nash narrows his eyebrows. He knows something is wrong.

He reaches out for your hand that rests on your thighs, giving it a small squeeze. “Don’t push me away.” His voice is quieter and filled with … sadness.

“You should go home.”

It’s not what you wanted to say. You don’t want him to leave, not even for a minute, and the words you’ve just spoken surprised him as well–not just you–, because his eyes are wide. You want to take those words back, but your body isn’t listening to you.

“Are you crazy?” he snorts, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “No way am I leaving you. Not now.”

Releasing you, he steps out of the car and you feel tears brim in your eyes. You watch him go around the car until he’s pulling you out of your seat. He cups your face and wipes away the tears with his thumbs before he kisses your forehead. Feeling powerless, you let him walk you back into the cabin, Spot already a few steps ahead, until he sits you down on the terrace.

At this point, you try to hide your sadness even more, but Nash has none of it, because the minute he is gone, he’s already back with your favourite blanket, despite the warm and sunny weather, and chocolate milk you have stored in the refrigerator. Your chest tightens at how easily he can read you.

You feel your eyes tear up and for a split second he panics. He’s unsure what to do and a part of you expects him to turn and leave, yet just like a moment before, he proves you wrong. He sits beside you and wraps his arms around you.

“I don’t know what got into this pretty head of yours, but the last thing I’ll do is to leave you alone.”

“You will eventually…” you murmur more to yourself.

It’s like time has frozen. Nash stills completely as you bite your lower lip. You refuse to look at him, but he holds your chin and forces you to turn your head. Your eyes meet his and there’s something in his gaze, you haven’t seen yet; sadness.

“Princess,” he whisper-calls and you melt at his nickname; “I promise you, I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me, so please … talk to me…” he pleads.

Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath before you slowly let it out.

“I never got along with my family…” You start quietly and Nash reaches for your hands instead, squeezing them in his. “There was also this boy,” a small smile spreads across your lips at his memory; “that I loved. Perhaps there are still some feelings lingering deep down in my heart, aching for his touch and his brightness that I adored.”

Nash remains silent. You open your eyes and avert them towards Spot, who’s lying by your feet, sleeping.

“Maybe I should have seen all those ‘red flags’ everyone was speaking of, yet I remained blind to them, because I cared for him too much. I loved him to the point I was prepared to leave everything in that same moment if he called and said he needed me.” Letting out a shaky breath, you lower your gaze at your hands. He’s caressing them and you feel your chest tighten, because no one has ever done that before.

“We only ever talked when it was convenient for him and did the things he liked.”

You feel like a concrete wall around your heart is beginning to crack open the longer Nash remains silent, giving you nothing but to be there and hold you, even if only your hands.

“He never listened. Whenever I wanted to go to a cinema, to watch a certain movie, he didn’t like it. When I sent him a song I loved, he said there could never be a more stupid band instead.” you close your eyes, letting out a small breath you unknowingly held. “Yet at the same time, it wasn’t all that bad. He was there when I felt bad about myself. He made my days less bearable, surprised me so many times I couldn’t help but love him, forget all the bad things, because that’s normal in a relationship, no?”

Expecting no answer, you stare at your hands.

“Which is why I’m afraid of love. I’m afraid I’ll fall so deeply that the moment they leave, I won’t be able to breathe.” You feel your eyes tearing up the more you remember those days. How many hours you spent waiting on his message, reply, only to receive what you already expected; a simple “no”.

“I won’t say I’m like that, ‘cause that would be a lie.” Nash speaks after a moment. He’s still holding your hands and you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re too afraid to look at him. “I have games in other countries–”

“It’s not that.” you overtake him immediately. A tear slips down and you laugh. “I know all of that and I’m glad, happy you can do what you love, but after so many times of hearing “no”, “I don’t have time”, “I’m tired”, “I want something else than a drink” and all that constantly, over and over again, I don’t feel loved.” You look at him, unable to hold it back anymore as more tears stream down. “Every time I wanted to do something, just a goddamn drink, a simple drink, I was met with no. With two guys, two. I’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me and when I want to spend some time with you, I’d be met with the same word; “no” without giving a different time or date. I need reassurance that we’re okay, that you still like me, that I won’t have to go months without seeing you and expect...everything...”

Voice cracking towards the end, you bite your lower lip and look away.

“I-I thought I'll be fine after it happened once, but I guess I love to torment myself. A-and it's okay if it-it's not at that time, any-any other time is okay, as l-long as you agree to a simple drink...”

“[Name]...” Nash calls your name softly. “I'll stay.”

And just like that, an invisible dam that was holding back your emotions broke. In a second Nash holds you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You hold onto his shirt like you're holding onto your own life. He's caressing your back, rocking you back and forward softly. You feel embarrassed for being so vulnerable in front of him, but after telling him all of that, you knew it was only a matter of time before you broke down.

Nash presses a kiss on the side of your head. “I'm not leaving you.” His voice is soft, yet at the same time sounds final.

And you believe him.

#safrinawrites #Nash Gold Jr.#Nash Gold Jr #Kuroko no Basket #fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #knb fanfic #knb fic

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svfttachi · 9 months

Note

Hello!! I recently just got into Kuroko no basket so I would like to put in a request😄. Can I get a Kise x stoic reader who is a new student at Kaijou. I hope I'm doing this right😅 but anyways I hope you have a nice day and thank you💜💜

wc — 2.0k

type — kise ryouta x gn!reader

tw — n/a

✎ this request was so cute like... i couldn't stop writing and went a little overboard. i hope you enjoy it, and i appreciate everybody's patience with me as i deal with life and personal things behind the scenes.

◃ to knb writings

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𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘.

Small things that should generate some kind of response or emotion never came upon your own face. With a rough childhood full of distrust, absentee parents, and inability to form lasting and meaningful relationships, you naturally grew unfazed to whatever may come onto your path. In fact, you tread through life without the need to socialize with others or care enough to express your inner feelings. It just wasn’t important to go through things that only brought hardship onto yourself.

However, you never expected to have your whole perspective on life to be changed in one day at your new school.

Walking into the building was much like any other normal day for you except that you were immediately greeted by plenty of students, all of whom were upperclassmen happily celebrating the arrival of the fresh batch of underclassmen. You were bombarded by many smiling faces, colorful gifts, and even a couple of friendly hugs from the other students, yet none of that could change the bored expression on your face.

With your class schedule and locker assignment printed on the paper in your hand, you haphazardly made your way towards the hallway where your locker was supposed to be. However, upon arriving in the hallway, you found a couple of students in a group standing right where your locker should be. A composed manner in your step brought you closer to the group, and you signaled the one closest to you by poking his shoulder with your finger.

In an instant, the student turned around, forcing his yellowish-blonde hair to swish along with his turning head. His caramel, brown eyes were on full display along with a typical, smiley face.

Just as his mouth opened to ask a question, you started first, speaking in an annoyed tone, “You and your buddies are standing in front of my locker.”

The boy’s face immediately twisted into a confused expression, and his head turned to look over at his friends who all had a similar expression pressed on their faces.

“Well? Are you going to move, or not?” your patience growing thin within you as your eyebrows furrowed. The boy scratched the back of his head and nodded, speaking a little off guard, “Uh… yeah, sure. Let’s go someplace else guys.”

Your eyes watched everyone within the group make the space in front of your locker available, allowing you to walk up to it. Unbeknownst to you, pondering, caramel eyes captured your figure as you were shoving the copious amounts of enormous gifts into the small space of your locker.

Whispers inched towards the blonde haired boy’s ears, specifically about the strange way you didn’t go all insane when seeing their friend’s face like all the other students do. When it came to the attention he got in school, Kise Ryouta would fully indulge himself into it, going from taking pictures to signing his modeling magazines. There was never a time where he wasn’t the center of attention anywhere, yet today, the lack of attention from a student he’s never seen was enough to peak his curiosity.

“Kise, you coming?” one of his friends called out from down the hall. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Kise turned to nod in response, “Yeah, coming.”

He jogged a little to reach his friends and was quickly sucked into whatever the topic of the conversation was, all while reminiscing the brief moment between the two of you.

.・゜゜・

Apart from the dread that comes with school and doing work for you, the weather outside was perfect for a lovely lunch break spent outdoors. As soon as the bell signaling the beginning of the lunch period sounded, you rushed out of the hallway and towards the open, green area that rested along the side of the school where the gymnasiums were located. You found an unoccupied bench directly in front of one of the gymnasium doors and underneath the cover of the paved walkway towards it, and you sat down, crossing your leg over the other.

You pulled out your lunch from within your bag and immediately started to soothe the ache in your stomach from the amount of angry growling it has sounded throughout the day. The first bite into your self-made lunch was the most relaxing bite of food in a while, and you were glad that the weather also complied with this idea if yours.

Indulging in your food made you unaware of the side doors from where you came opening and closing, allowing a lonesome boy to come out. Kise ran a hand through his hair as he glanced out at the clearing where many people were sitting and enjoying their lunch. That’s when his caramel, brown eyes landed upon your figure. It wasn’t entirely clear that you were enjoying your food, but from the sight of your head bobbing up and down as if you were jamming to a song, Kise knew that you must be having something delicious for lunch.

The interaction that the two of you shared this morning made its way back into Kise’s mind. Your laid back, stoic expression was intriguing him by the minute, and it didn’t stop him from beginning to walk over to where you were seated.

At the sound of light footsteps, you glanced up from your lunch, allowing your eyes to land upon Kise’s form heading close to you.

“This bench is occupied,” you stated, stuffing another piece of your food in your mouth. The eye contact between the two of you was so strong that Kise felt a shiver run down his spine. Kise began to scratch the back of his head as the nerves were getting to him. “I–I can see that. Must be some good food you got there,” Kise responded.

As much as you were plain in facial expressions, you weren’t a heartless person. Without a doubt in your mind, you held your container up to Kise, forcing his eyes to crisscross due to how close it was to him. “You can try it if you’d like. I made it myself,” you offered.

“Are you sure?” Kise asked cautiously. It was as if he lost the ability to talk to people with how different you were acting towards him. “It’s up to you. I don’t mind it,” you said, still holding the container out in front of him.

Kise nodded and grabbed one of the rice balls inside. You lowered the container back down and grabbed a cracker from the container, but your eyes never left Kise as he tasted the rice ball you made from scratch. He covered his mouth with his hand as he chewed, a trick he learned to avoid unappealing paparazzi pictures. You watched his caramel eyes widen and look inside the rice ball to catch a glimpse of the filling.

“Wow, this is one of the best rice balls I’ve ever had,” Kise exclaimed, continuing to mutter wow as he ate.

For the first time in a long time, your chest ached a new, but pleasant, kind of ache as your heart fluttered. A fiery blush rose in color within your cheeks, and your face changed ever so slightly to adjust to the newfound emotion bubbling within you. It felt different to have some attention geared towards you, let alone a silly, little compliment about the deliciousness of your homemade food.

“I was tempted to say that this could be beat by this one place I go with my friends, but no, this one takes the cake,” Kise continued. To be honest, whatever he had said after the compliment he gave you went through one ear and out the other, but it still made you give the boy the lightest of smiles, one that no one has the right to see. “By the way, I never caught your name. I bet it’s as beautiful as this rice ball,” Kise said, lifting the food in his hand a little higher.

“I–It’s L/N Y/N,” you stuttered. Yes… stuttered because for some reason, the first boy you ever met at this new school was doing things to you that would have not cracked you one bit.

Your eyes caught a pretty smile from the blonde boy before he added, “I knew it was a pretty name. Kise Ryouta.”

Kise stuck his hand out in front of you, and it took a second for you to realize it’s there before you shook it.

“Do you mind if I take a seat next to you?” he asked after your hand left the softness of his. “Um… go ahead,” you mumbled, trying to recompose yourself after momentarily turning into a completely different person.

Kise shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders and dropped it onto the ground next to yours before taking a seat beside you. He happily sat there munching on his rice ball, yet it still made you feel warmer on the inside than when you first arrived at school.

“You know… my friend would absolutely love having these rice balls. He’s a big foodie like I’m talking about the fact that he snacks every second of every day,” Kise mentioned, looking over at you with a bright look on his face. Slowly, the light smile from before reappeared on your face as you spoke up, “Oh really? I’m a pretty big foodie myself, and nobody I know can beat me in those eating competitions.”

Kise held a hand up and furrowed his brows jokingly, “Please. My friend could beat you in an eating competition any day!”

You shook your head and continued to eat the remnants of your food left in the container. “We’ll have to see about that,” you mumbled.

Soon, the bell for the next class period rang, prompting you to pack up your lunch box into your backpack. As you stood up from your spot on the bench, Kise grabbed hold of both of your backpacks as you straightened your uniform. Kise held your backpack in front of you, and it felt so natural to take it from him yet the blush decided to peek in once again.

“It was nice meeting you, Kise. Thank you for sitting with me for lunch,” you said, waving at the boy before turning around to walk away.

Kise couldn’t contain the smile that was showing on his face. Not once did you ask about his professional life as a model, and it was like you genuinely didn’t know a single thing about him. If you were intriguing him before, he was definitely lovestruck now, especially since you make such delicious food.

Just as you were about to head into the main building for class, Kise quickly realized something small but meaningful if he wanted to keep this connection with you. He brought his backpack in front of him to dig through it in the hopes he’d find a paper and pen. With only a pen in his hand, Kise ran towards the door, shoving many people out of the way but not without muttering little apologies.

“Y/N-cchi!” Kise shouted from the doorway. His eyes locked onto your figure that was turning around at the mention of the strange pronunciation of your name.

Your own eyes watched Kise practically fall a couple of times as he was coming up to you. Once he arrived, he was barely out of breath, holding out the pen in his hand.

“Do you have a piece of paper I can borrow?” Kise questioned. You found it strange how he looked slightly disheveled over asking you for paper which of course you didn’t have.

“No, sorr– Wait, Kise!”

Kise wasted no time in yanking your hand towards himself. He clicked the pen in his hand and began to write in the palm of your hand, making you question his actions. With the masterpiece of sloppy handwriting stamped in the palm of your hand, Kise clicked the pen once more and curled your fingers over what he wrote.

“See you later, Y/N-cchi!”

With that, he left you confused in the middle of the hallway, and all you saw was his blonde hair leaving around a corner. You looked down at your wrist and uncurled your fingers to find a phone number along with a message.

rice balls for tomorrow, too pls?

And just like that, a light chuckle came out of your mouth as a result of the many happy thoughts circling your mind… all thanks to the smile on the blonde haired boy’s face.

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navigation ✧. ┊rules

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nikkimidorima · 7 months

Text

A short one-shot Midorima Boyfriend manga. read from left to right

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linkemon · 22 days

Text

Aomine Daiki x (chubby) Reader

Resztę oneshotów z tej i innych serii możesz przeczytać tutaj. Zajrzyj też na moje Ko-fi.

Some of these oneshots are already translated into English. You can find them here.

"— ᴊᴇᴅʏɴʏᴍ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀʏ ᴍᴏᴢ̇ᴇ ᴍɴɪᴇ ᴘᴏᴋᴏɴᴀᴄ́… — ᴢᴀᴄᴢᴀ̨ᴌ ᴅᴀɪᴋɪ, ᴊᴀᴋʙʏ ᴘʀᴏ́ʙᴜᴊᴀ̨ᴄ sɪᴇ̨ ᴜsᴘʀᴀᴡɪᴇᴅʟɪᴡɪᴄ́. — …ᴊᴇsᴛᴇś ᴛʏ sᴀᴍ? — ᴢᴀᴋᴏɴ́ᴄᴢʏᴌᴀ ᴢᴀ ɴɪᴇɢᴏ ᴅᴢɪᴇᴡᴄᴢʏɴᴀ."

sᴘᴏᴊʀᴢᴇɴɪᴇ ɴᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴋᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴏᴍɪɴᴇ ɪ ᴊᴇɢᴏ ᴢᴍɪᴀɴʏ ᴡ ᴘʀᴢᴇᴄɪᴀ̨ɢᴜ ɢɪᴍɴᴀᴢᴊᴜᴍ ɪ ʟɪᴄᴇᴜᴍ. ʙᴏ ᴍᴏᴢ̇ᴇ ᴊᴇᴅɴᴀᴋ sᴀ̨ ʟᴜᴅᴢɪᴇ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀᴢʏ ᴘᴏᴛʀᴀғɪᴀ̨ sᴘʀᴀᴡɪᴄ́, ᴢ̇ᴇ ᴋᴏsᴢʏᴋᴏ́ᴡᴋᴀ ᴢɴᴏ́ᴡ ɴᴀʙɪᴇʀᴀ sᴇɴsᴜ…

ᴅᴏᴅᴀᴛᴋᴏᴡᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴄᴊᴇ:

ᴡ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴄɪᴇ ᴡʏʀᴀᴢ́ɴɪᴇ ᴢᴀᴢɴᴀᴄᴢᴏɴᴇ ᴢᴏsᴛᴀᴌᴏ, ᴢ̇ᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴍᴀ ɴᴀᴅᴡᴀɢᴇ̨, ᴀʟᴇ ᴍʏśʟᴇ̨, ᴢ̇ᴇ sᴘᴏᴋᴏᴊɴɪᴇ ᴍᴏᴢ̇ɴᴀ sɪᴇ̨ ᴡᴄᴢᴜᴄ́.

Aomine przystanął na żwirowej ścieżce. Nasłuchiwał przez moment. Z sali gimnastycznej dochodziły dziwne odgłosy. Momoi mówiła mu kiedyś, że jest nawiedzona. Przez moment naprawdę jej uwierzył, ale potem spotkał Kuroko. Chłopak ze swoim zapałem do ćwiczeń i umiejętnością odwracania uwagi całkiem nieświadomie zachowywał się jak prawdziwy duch. Daiki wyśmiał głupie plotki następnego dnia, ale teraz już nie był taki pewien, czy nie tkwiło w nich jednak ziarno prawdy. Sprawdził telefon, by upewnić się, że niczego nie pomylił:

Tetsu

Rozchorowałem się. Nie będzie mnie dzisiaj na treningu.

A więc nie. Powinien być tu tylko on sam. Rozejrzał się nerwowo wokół siebie. Szkolny plac był pusty. Nie było nikogo, kto mógłby mu towarzyszyć. Cała drużyna rozeszła się już do domów. Zdenerwowany oblizał wargi. Właściwie mógłby odejść, ale przecież nie będzie tchórzył... chyba.

— Cholera! Idę! — Ścisnął mocno swoją piłkę od kosza.

Nie był przecież mięczakiem. Ludzie w gimnazjum nie powinni obawiać się wymyślonej zjawy. Z pewnością ktoś się tylko nabijał. Dumnie uniósł głowę. Przyspieszył kroku w obawie, by nie rozmyślić się w ostatniej chwili.

Delikatnie uchylił drzwi i rozejrzał się po sali. Mocne halogeny rozświetlały pomieszczenie. Dodało mu to otuchy.

Przez środek boiska biegła dziewczyna. Sprawnie kozłowała w kierunku kosza. Odetchnął z ulgą. Z pewnością nie była straszydłem. Można nawet powiedzieć, że wyglądała bardzo ładnie. Szczególnie biorąc pod uwagę jej kształty. Aomine już dawno przestał się przejmować tym, jak inni widzą jego postrzeganie płci przeciwnej. Jeśli kobieta miała duży biust, to nie widział nic złego w tym, by go podziwiać. Komplement jak każdy inny.

Przez moment stał w progu, oglądając, jak ćwiczy. Wyglądało na to, że szlifowała podstawowe umiejętności. Kozioł. Prawa. Lewa. Rzut. Zaraz potem odwrotna wersja. I tak w kółko.

W pewnym momencie piłka odbiła się od kosza i poturlała się wprost pod jego nogi. Daiki podniósł ją i zakręcił na palcu. Wirowała przez moment. Posłał ją z powrotem w stronę uczennicy. Musiał przyznać, że miała refleks, bo złapała ją poprawnie.

— Cześć! — zawołała, kozłując. — Też przyszedłeś poćwiczyć, Aomine-san?

Na jego twarzy musiał odmalować się szok. W końcu nie co dzień spotykał nieznajome wiedzące, kim jest.

— Skąd znasz moje nazwisko? — Podszedł bliżej.

— Trudno nie znać członka Pokolenia Cudów, chodząc do Teikō — odparła.

Chyba do tej pory nie zdawał sobie sprawę z tego, jak bardzo jest rozpoznawalny. Jego kariera dopiero nabierała rozpędu. Czuł, że pewnego dnia zajdzie daleko, ale chyba wszystko działo się szybciej niż myślał. To Kise mógł się pochwalić popularnością. Wszędzie biegały za nim fanki. Błagały o autograf, wspólne zdjęcie albo zostawiały mu prezenty. Nie zazdrościł mu. Bywały okropnie upierdliwe.

— Jestem w klubie koszykarskim, więc oglądałam wasze mecze — dodała.

A więc jednak się mylił. To jeszcze nie było jego pięć minut sławy. Może to i lepiej.

— Hmmm… — Niski pomruk wydobył się z jego gardła. — Co powiesz na jeden na jeden?

Był przekonany, że odmówi. Większość ludzi bała się z nim grać. Jeśli już go widziała, to powinna wyczuć porażkę. Lata ulicznej koszykówki zaszczepiły w nim dzikie instynkty. Rozwinął refleks do wręcz nadludzkiego poziomu. Nie bał się przyznać, że jest dobry. Znał swoje możliwości i stale przesuwał granice tego, co go wstrzymywało. To zniechęcało sporo osób, które nie widziały sensu, by się z nim mierzyć.

Jednak dziewczyna ku jego zdziwieniu odłożyła na bok swoją piłkę i z uśmiechem stanęła gotowa do walki.

— Jestem [Reader]. — Wyciągnęła rękę.

Potrząsnął dłonią, czując silny uścisk. Z pewnością nie brakowało jej siły.

Daiki nie był do końca pewny, jak to działa. Czy sport mógł być jakąś formą komunikacji, którą rozumieją tylko wybrani? Z jakiegoś powodu wydawało mu się to prawdą. Ta rozgrywka zdawała się mówić więcej o nowo poznanej osobie niż gdyby miała mu to przekazać słowami.

Miała zapał. Wkładała w koszykówkę serce. Rzucało mu się to w oczy bardzo wyraźnie. Szczególnie, że Tetsu był jego przyjacielem. A on ucieleśniał to podejście. W tej rozgrywce był jakiś upór. Nie taki dziki, jak jego własny, a raczej rozważny. Dziewczyna ważyła swoje opcje.

Po kilku minutach pojął, w czym rzecz. Wiedział, dlaczego tego wieczora trenowała zwykłe podstawy. Miała prawdziwy talent do rzutów. Może nie taki na miarę Midorimy, ale jednak duży. Wszystko wpadało idealnie, jeśli nie zdążył stanąć do obrony. Nieważne, jak dziwacznego kąta by nie obrała. Nabiła całkiem sporo punktów. Nie mogła się jednak z nim równać. Skoro rywalizowali na poważnie, postanowił nie dawać jej forów. Blado wypadały jej zwody. Trudno też było jej nadążyć za morderczym tempem biegu. Podejrzewał, że podania też idą jej średnio. Nie miał jednak okazji ich ujrzeć, bo byli tylko we dwójkę. Bezczelnie więc wykorzystywał te słabości, by ostatecznie zdobyć miażdżącą przewagę.

Czekał na moment, gdy się podłamie. Na tę dobrze mu znaną minę, którą coraz częściej widział na twarzach rywali. Na chwilę olśnienia, kiedy zrozumie swoje braki w obliczu jego umiejętności. Jednak ona nie przestawała. Nawet gdy zmęczona upadła, podniosła się i kontynuowała. Ktoś mógłby powiedzieć, że w takim razie powinien przerwać. On jednak widział w jej oczach wolę walki. Rozpoznawał ten głód godnego przeciwnika. Taki sam, jaki trawił niego samego, więc nie potrafił się powstrzymać.

Czuł ciepło, ale nie z powodu potu lśniącego na opalonej skórze. To było jakieś radosne uczucie, objawiające się w okolicy brzucha. Gdy się uśmiechała, coś w środku niego trzepotało, pragnąc się wydostać na powierzchnię. Chciał kontynuować, wiecznie niezmęczony. Im dłużej się nad tym zastanawiał, tym głupsze mu się to wydawało. Czy to mogła być miłość od pierwszego wejrzenia?

Cholera! — pomyślał . Naprawdę się rozproszył, przez co zabrała mu piłkę. Z trudem zdobyła kolejny punkt. Mimowolnie poczuł, jak na jego usta wkrada się uśmiech. To właśnie była prawdziwa koszykówka. Taka, jaką lubił.

Nie był idiotą. [Reader] mu się podobała. Może miłość to było za duże słowo, ale coś w niej go pociągało. Od wyglądu, przez grę, aż po ten zapał, którym emanowała. Chciał spędzić z nią więcej czasu i lepiej poznać.

— Wpadnę kiedyś obejrzeć twój mecz — rzucił niby od niechcenia.

Powiedział to, skacząc do kosza. Wolał być odwrócony plecami. Nie brał porażki pod uwagę. Ale na wszelki wypadek jednak lepiej byłoby nie oglądać jej twarzy, gdyby mu odmówiła.

Dziewczyna przystanęła na moment. Dopiero wznawiali grę po zdobytym punkcie, ale widział, że w jej postawie coś się zmieniło. Jakby nieznacznie zesztywniała.

— Chętnie bym cię zaprosiła, ale nie gram w pierwszym składzie. — Trafiła za trzy punkty.

To go zdziwiło. Czyżby żeńskie Teikō w tak krótkim czasie zdobyło silne zawodniczki? Wydawało mu się, że wciąż ich szukano. Semestr dopiero się zaczął. Zdecydowanie powinna się tam znaleźć. Co prawda w rozgrywce z nim wydawała się przeciętna, ale on to on. Poza tym jej błędy nadawały się do całkiem szybkiej korekty. A z taką celnością drużyna z pewnością daleko by zaszła.

— Dlaczego? — Chłopak był naprawdę ciekawy.

Spodziewał się, że machnie na pytanie ręką. Satsuki zwykle tak robiła, gdy pytał ją, co się dzieje. Często mówiła, że to nie jego interes i że nie powinien się wtrącać w nie swoje sprawy (no chyba że chodziło o Kuroko, to zupełnie inna rzecz). Ona jednak nie była Momoi.

— Trenerka i kapitan uważają, że ktoś z moimi wymiarami nie może grać — oznajmiła prosto z mostu.

Zupełnie nie tego się spodziewał. Co miał teraz powiedzieć? Że mu przykro? Że to idiotyczne? Dziewczyny, z którymi do tej pory przebywał, pewnie właśnie to chciałyby usłyszeć. Zwykle też lubiły sobie nawzajem mówić, że wcale nie mają nadwagi. Ostatni raz, gdy powiedział przyjaciółce, że przytyła, nie odzywała się do niego przez tydzień.

— Znam tę minę. — [Reader] ostentacyjnie przewróciła oczami. — Tylko nie mów, że ci przykro. Nie potrzebuję pocieszenia. Wiem, że jestem grubsza niż większość dziewczyn z drużyny i znam swoje ograniczenia. Ale to nie daje tym dwóm sukom prawa, by patrzeć na mnie z góry. Dostanę się do pierwszego składu i pokażę im, że nie miały racji. — Mówiąc to, wróciła do gry.

Nie wiedział, co go bardziej zszokowało. To, że właśnie nazwała nauczycielkę suką (z tego, co o niej słyszał, to całkiem jej się należało), czy to, że akceptowała fakt, z którym większości trudno byłoby się pogodzić. Rzeczywiście była szersza w pewnych miejscach, ale nie widział w tym przeszkody. Szczególnie z jej grą. Jeśli podciągnie się wystarczająco, prędzej czy później dostanie awans.

— Kobiety z kształtami są atrakcyjne!

Wystawiła mu środkowy palec, na co się uśmiechnął. Zdecydowanie była odświeżająca w porównaniu do jego dotychczasowych znajomych.

— No co? Mówię prawdę!

Potrząsnęła głową i pokozłowała w stronę kosza.

Wybił jej piłkę z rąk, po czym przegonił o krok. Wyskoczył w górę. Może nie był to idealny wsad. Wciąż trochę brakowało mu wzrostu oraz siły, by zrobić to tak, jak należy. Mimo to na moment zawisł w powietrzu. Z radością patrzył, jak pomarańczowa smuga przechodzi przez obręcz. Wiedział, że popisuje się jak gówniarz, ale nawet nie próbował z tym walczyć.

— Jestem pewny, że się dostaniesz. — Popatrzył jej w oczy na moment. Chciał, żeby wiedziała, że się nie droczy. Naprawdę tak uważał.

Odgarnęła do tyłu sportowy kucyk. Nic nie odpowiedziała. Po prostu ponownie ruszyła do gry. Tak spędzili cały wieczór.

Nagle przez pisk sportowych butów przebił się dzwonek jego telefonu. Już miał zamknąć klapkę, gdy na wyświetlaczu ujrzał: Matka . To zwiastowało kłopoty. Nakrzyczała na niego, gdy tylko odebrał. Do tego stopnia, że odsunął urządzenie od ucha. Miał dziś wrócić szybciej, żeby pomóc jej nosić ciężkie worki. Próbował się bronić, ale zegar na sali wyraźnie wskazywał, że jest grubo po czasie. Rozłączył się w połowie tyrady. Już i tak nic nowego by mu nie powiedziała. Zostało mu tylko jak najszybciej biec do domu.

[Reader] śmiała się na boku przez cały czas. Widocznie szalenie bawiło ją patrzenie, jak dostaje kazanie.

— Dzięki za grę! — Zabrała swój plecak z podłogi.

— Dziękujesz mi za to, że wgniotłem cię w ziemię? — wyszczerzył się Aomine.

Uderzyła go w ramię. Nie bolało, choć miała sporo siły. Po prostu miał na tyle wyrobione mięśnie, że niewiele poczuł.

— Odegram się następnym razem. — Dziewczyna zmełła w ustach przekleństwo.

— Kto powiedział, że będzie następny raz? — Chłopak uniósł brew.

Wydawało się, jakby byli dobrymi znajomymi, choć spotkali się zaledwie tego dnia. Dziwnie się z tym czuł. Szczególnie, że wszystkie dziewczyny, jakimi się do tej pory interesował, wyróżniały się jedynie wyglądem. Z żadną nie udało mu się zawiązać nici porozumienia. Przyjmowały do wiadomości, że interesuje się sportem, ale żadna nie widziała w nim tego, co on. Tak jakby pojmowały ogół, ale nie wiedziały, czym jest sama istota jego pasji.

Co prawda miał przy sobie Satsuki. Na nią jednak nie potrafił spojrzeć inaczej niż na młodszą siostrę. Mieszkali blisko i znali się od dzieciństwa. Poza tym robiła maślane oczy do jego najlepszego kumpla. W jakimś stopniu pojmowała, co siedzi w głowie Daikiego. Jednak spotkać kogoś spoza zwyczajnego kręgu znajomych, kto by go rozumiał, nie zdarzyło mu się od wieków.

Zmierzali w stronę drzwi. [Reader] nic nie powiedziała, odkąd zanegował pomysł powtórzenia spotkania. Zerknął na nią kątem oka.

— Jakbyś chciała kiedyś razem potrenować, to i tak już pomagam koledze z drużyny. Siedzimy tu prawie każdego dnia o tej porze. Możesz dołączyć. — Aomine podrapał kark.

Kuroko raczej nie powinien mieć nic przeciwko temu. Jak go znał, to pewnie jeszcze się z tego ucieszy. Szczególnie, że w pewnym sensie byli bardzo podobni.

— Serio? — Miał wrażenie, że cała jej twarz nabrała blasku. Możliwe jednak, że było to tylko światło księżyca wychodzącego zza chmur.

— Taaa — mruknął potwierdzająco.

— No to widzimy się! — Odbiegła zadowolona.

***

Aomine w najlepsze wsuwał burgera i zajadał go frytkami. Chrupiąca bułka, soczyste mięso i jakieś niepotrzebne warzywne dodatki. Ten znajomy smak przywoływał wspomnienia. Do tego jeszcze wielka cola. Pociągnął przez wielką rurkę. Ciemny, zimny i słodki płyn buzował bąbelkami. Poczuł się zupełnie jak kiedyś, na początku gimnazjum. Tylko że lepiej. Tak sobie powtarzał.

Bo teraz było późno w nocy. Ciemno i cicho. Nikt mu nie przeszkadzał. Na zmianie w Maji Burgerze siedział tylko jeden pracownik i zajmował się swoimi sprawami. Nawet nie spojrzał w jego stronę.

Kiedyś, gdy tu przychodził, otaczał go gwar. Koledzy bijący się o to, kto pierwszy zamówi albo kto komu wisi pieniądze. Zdawało się, że ciepłe popołudnia zniknęły gdzieś bardzo daleko. Jakby wydarzyły się odległe lata temu, choć wcale tak nie było. Nie tęsknił. Nie mógł, bo sam to wybrał. Tę samotność, która jak na złość dawała o sobie znać w takich momentach, jak ten.

Daiki oparł głowę o szybę. Neony rozświetlały nieciekawe widoki. Zerknął na stolik. Zamówił stanowczo za dużo jedzenia. Nie pokona tego wszystkiego i kasa się zmarnuje. Czemu w ogóle to zrobił? Już od dawna nie przychodził tu z chłopakami. Widywali się na meczach, ale tylko oficjalnych. Nie chciał się z nimi spotykać, więc unikał ich jak ognia. Zresztą z tego, co wiedział, oni też już przestali spędzać wspólnie czas. Nie byli drużyną, tylko zbiorem indywidualistów. A teraz każdy z nich skończył naukę w Teikō.

Odezwał się cichy dzwonek nad drzwiami. Nie przejął się nim do momentu, aż usłyszał znajomy głos. Zamarł z burgerem w połowie drogi do ust.

[Reader]. To ona odbierała właśnie swój shake przy podświetlanej ladzie. Nie wierzył w bogów, ale w tej chwili modlił się, by go nie zauważyła. Co było okropnie głupie, jak się nad tym zastanowić. Bo niby czemu miał się jej bać? Nie wyszło im. Tylko tyle i aż tyle. Właściwie to nawet nie mieli jak zerwać. Nigdy oficjalnie nie ogłosili, że są parą. Nie przejmowali się takimi rzeczami. Kiedy dotarli do etapu randkowania, wszystko w jego życiu zaczęło się sypać. Oznajmił jej, że nic z tego nie wyjdzie. Przyjęła to do świadomości i byli naprawdę niezłymi przyjaciółmi. Do momentu, gdy odsunął również przyjaciół, a ich kontakt znacznie się ograniczył.

— Mogę się przysiąść? — Bezceremonialnie wpakowała się na siedzenie naprzeciw niego.

— Jeśli chcesz — odburknął cicho.

— Koniec gimnazjum. Szybko zleciało, co? — [Reader] bawiła się słomką. Jakby nie do końca była pewna, co powiedzieć.

Nie dziwił jej się. Niezręcznie było tak siedzieć. Jak za starych czasów. Praktycznie się nie widywali. Nawet nie wiedział, co dokładnie zamierza teraz robić. Szła do Shūtoku, ale na tym jego wiedza się kończyła. Po tym, jak dostała się do pierwszego składu, zaczęła grać w oficjalnych meczach. Z pewnością przyjmą ją z otwartymi ramionami. Wmawiał sobie, że go to nie interesuje. A jednak łowił wiadomości o niej od wiecznie trajkoczącej Satsuki. A, gdy przeglądał telefon, śledził jej media społecznościowe. W głębi serca wiedział, że gdyby naprawdę miał ją gdzieś, to już dawno przestałby chłonąć tę wiedzę przy każdej możliwej okazji.

— Tak, bardzo szybko — przytaknął Aomine.

Zapadła niezręczna cisza. Dzwoniła mu w uszach, niemiłosiernie przypominając, że jest inaczej niż kiedyś. Dawniej siadała tuż obok niego. Obejmował ją ramieniem, które żartobliwie strząsała. Potem opowiadał jakieś nieśmieszne żarty, kłócąc się o to, jaką strategię przyjąć w kolejnym meczu.

Wciąż wyglądała tak pięknie, jak pierwszego dnia, gdy ją spotkał. Nadal palił się w niej ten żar, którego jemu tak rozpaczliwie brakowało.

Spojrzał na stół.

— Chcesz burgera? — zadał pytanie, wyciągając kanapkę w jej stronę.

— Wow, mój ulubiony! Dzięki!

Przeklął się w myślach. Nieświadomie kupił ten, który kochała najbardziej. Właściwie wszystkie na jego tacy były preferencjami osób z Generacji Cudów.

To pewnie był pierwszy raz od dawna, gdy ucieszyła się z czegoś, co zrobił. Bo na pewno nie była zadowolona z tego, kim się stał. Częściowo żałował, ale nigdy do końca.

Przez jakiś czas jedli w milczeniu. Przeżuwał powoli. Wydawało mu się, jakby stracił apetyt. Kęsy grzęzły gdzieś w gardle.

— [Reader]… jesteś na mnie zła za…? — zaciął się. — Sama wiesz… — zakończył niemrawo.

Ile różnych rzeczy kryło się pod tym stwierdzeniem. Urwał treningi. Zostawił ją i Kuroko samych sobie. Nie miało znaczenia, że wtedy już radzili sobie świetnie. Przestał spędzać z nimi czas. Opuszczał mecze. Zarówno te swoje, jak i jej. A potem też zwykłe spotkania i rozmowy. Zaniedbał to wszystko, co razem zbudowali.

Przerażało go, jak sentymentalnie brzmi. A jednak tak bardzo chciał wiedzieć, co ona o tym myśli.

— Nie jestem, Aomine-kun. Jest mi przykro, ale nie jestem zła. Rozumiem cię.

Przerastało go to, jak bardzo koszykówka rządziła jego życiem. Kochał ją. A najbardziej to uczucie rywalizacji, którego już nie doświadczał. Im lepszy się stawał, tym mniej zostawało mu do odkrycia. Ćwiczenie sprawiało, że rywal wydawał się jeszcze słabszy. Daiki stał na boisku i ziewał. Każdy kozioł, dwutakt, zwód i wsad przestały mieć sens. To było błędne koło. A jedynym sposobem, w jaki sobie z nim radził, było niegranie. Więc odsuwał wszystkich, którzy mieli do czynienia z tym przeklętym sportem. Zaczął od zespołu. Potem jego menadżerki i przyjaciółki — Satsuki. Kończąc na Kuroko i [Reader].

Ze zgrozą zdał sobie sprawę, że właśnie im zarzuca coś jeszcze. Był zazdrosny. Cieszyli się tą dyscypliną. To było coś, czego pragnął, a od dawna nie mógł osiągnąć. Wciąż mieli wiele przed sobą. Bawiła ich gra. Podczas gdy on się wypalił. Z tej niegdyś jasno płonącej pasji został zaledwie tlący się ogień. Dlatego tym ciężej było mu ich widywać. Choć z nimi był najbliżej przez cały swój czas w gimnazjum.

— Jedynym, który może mnie pokonać… — zaczął Daiki, jakby próbując się usprawiedliwić.

— ...jesteś ty sam? — zakończyła za niego dziewczyna.

A więc naprawdę go rozumiała. Jako chyba jedna z niewielu osób w jego otoczeniu.

— Jestem pewna, że któregoś dnia spotkasz kogoś, kto będzie dla ciebie idealnym rywalem. — [Reader] popatrzyła mu głęboko w oczy. Chyba pierwszy raz od dawna.

Była tak podobna do Kuroko, ale też jednocześnie inna. Dokładnie to samo powiedział mu kiedyś przyjaciel. Przez jakiś czas naprawdę mu wierzył. Grał, próbując dojrzeć moment, gdy będzie lepiej. Tylko że nigdy nie było. A potem trener złożył mu propozycję. Już nie musiał trenować. Tak długo, jak zjawiał się na oficjalnych meczach, wszystko było w porządku. Wtedy ostatecznie porzucił nadzieję na zmiany. Miał dosyć wiecznego czekania. Obietnica złożona chłopakom na sali gimnastycznej wydawała mu się ostatnia deską ratunku. Teraz, gdy rozeszli się do różnych szkół, stanowili jedyną jego szansę na poczucie choć części tego, co kiedyś. Był jednak pewny, że ich umiejętności nie wystarczą, by stanowić zagrożenie, a co dopiero go pokonać. Ta myśl ciążyła w jego umyśle od dawna.

— Zamierzam się dostać na zawody krajowe — oznajmiła [Reader]. — Może wtedy uznasz mnie za godnego przeciwnika. — Na jej twarzy zagościł lekki uśmiech. Wydawała się być nieobecna, siorbiąc swój shake. — Zagrajmy wtedy jeden na jeden jak za starych dobrych czasów.

Nie wiedział, co odpowiedzieć. Chciał, by stała się wystarczająco silna. Z drugiej jednak strony chyba nie potrafił uwierzyć, że jest w stanie to zrobić. Bo jego zdaniem nikt nie był. Młody Aomine bezgranicznie uwierzyłby w jej możliwości. Ten starszy miał z tym problem, bo nie ufał już nikomu i niczemu. Spuścił więc wzrok, wracając do jedzenia.

— Dzięki za burgera. Chyba pora na mnie. — Dziewczyna wstała ze swojego miejsca.

Odeszła kilka kroków, po czym jakby pod wpływem impulsu odwróciła się.

— Zawsze możesz do mnie zadzwonić — dodała i z tymi słowami odeszła.

***

— Jeszcze raz, Tetsu!

Chłopak ponownie źle ustawił ręce. Aomine musiał podejść i je poprawić. Powinien wypchać piłkę sprzed klatki piersiowej, jeśli to miało zadziałać. Pokręcił głową.

Daiki nie wierzył, że uczy przyjaciela gry na dzień przed meczem. Był mu jednak coś winien. Jemu i Kagamiemu. W końcu po raz pierwszy od dawna sprawili, że spojrzał na koszykówkę z ekscytacją. Z pasją, jakiej nie czuł od czasu zanim poszedł do Teikō. To było niesamowite, że przegrana aż tak napawała go nadzieją. Nareszcie pojawił się ktoś, kto stanowił prawdziwego przeciwnika. Co więcej, Seirin chciało kiedyś powtórzyć mecz.

Wreszcie pozwolił sobie na uśmiech podczas gry. To był właśnie sport, do którego został stworzony. Rozpierało go szczęście. Koniec z leżeniem na dachu. Teraz wróci do treningu. A kiedy następnym razem spotka kogoś lepszego, wgniecie go w ziemię. Ponownie miał w życiu jakiś cel i to było wspaniałe.

— Mam do ciebie jeszcze jedną prośbę — oznajmił Kuroko, ponownie próbując trafić do kosza.

— Oi, nie uważasz, że strasznie dużo tych przysług? — odpowiedział rozbawiony Aomine.

Niebieskowłosy gracz przekrzywił głowę. Już wiedział, że mu nie odpuści. W jego wzroku była ta denerwująca determinacja. Rozjaśniała blaskiem mroki nocy dookoła nich.

— [Reader] wygrała zawody krajowe. — Wycelował i rzucił ponownie.

— Przecież wiem. — Daiki ziewnął, oglądając kolejny raz jedno i to samo zagranie. Ćwiczyli cały wieczór.

— Wydawało mi się, że mówiłeś, że niezbyt interesujesz się jej życiem. — To właśnie był cały jego przyjaciel. Zawsze mówił do rzeczy, zwracając uwagę na ludzi. A teraz złapał za słówka również jego.

— Tak jakoś wyszło, że wiem — mruknął, odwracając się plecami.

Nagie gałęzie drzew za boiskiem nie były zbytnio ciekawe, ale udawał, że bardzo go interesują. Dla świętego spokoju.

— Myślę, że powinieneś do niej zadzwonić. — Głos Tetsuyi był cichy, ale dotarł do jego uszu.

Nie odpowiedział. Czuł się, jakby słuchał swojego sumienia. Prawda była taka, że oglądał cały mecz [Reader]. Wysłał jej też gratulacyjnego sms-a, ale to było prawie nic. Szczególnie, że odkąd poszli do liceów, widzieli się tylko kilka razy i zwykle przypadkiem. Oprócz tego składali sobie życzenia z okazji świąt. Na tym stała teraz ich znajomość. Z jego winy. Dziewczyna kilka razy podejmowała próby odnowienia przyjaźni, ale koszykówka wciąż stała między nimi niczym niewidzialny mur. Choć o niej nie rozmawiali, zajmowała tak dużą część ich żyć, że stawało się to ciężarem. Trudno było ją omijać. W dodatku już nie mogli spędzać razem treningów jak dawniej.

— Nie odbierze — stwierdził Aomine.

W końcu pewnie teraz świętowała z resztą drużyny. Należało im się. Ale czy na pewno by go odrzuciła? Nie był wcale aż tak pewny swoich słów.

— Myślę, że się mylisz. — Kuroko nie na darmo był nazywany Graczem Widmo. Wyrósł tuż obok niego, gdy wcale się go nie spodziewał. Mimowolnie się wzdrygnął. Może jednak po części był duchem?

— Co ty robisz? — spytał Daiki, widząc, jak szybko klika coś na telefonie.

Przyjaciel podsunął mu ekran pod nos. Wybrał jej numer. Ikonka kontaktu mrugała szybko i jasno.

— Rozłącz się! — Aomine ogarnęła panika.

Otrzymał tylko pokręcenie głową. Zaraz potem telefon został mu wepchnięty w dłoń. Już miał wcisnąć czerwoną słuchawkę, gdy jego ręka zamarła kilka centymetrów przed celem. Nie potrafił tego zrobić. Szczególnie nie po tym, gdy z głośnika rozległo się głośne:

— Halo? Kuroko-kun?

Tak bardzo stęsknił się za jej głosem. Nie przeszkadzało mu, że w tle przebijały się jakieś szumy, trzaski i toasty. Pewnie żeńska część Shūtoku cieszyła się ze swojej wygranej. Liczyło się, że ona tam była.

Minęła chwila nim się otrząsnął.

— Tu Aomine.

— Hej, czemu dzwonisz z telefonu Tetsu? Coś się stało? Cicho, dziewczyny. Nic nie słyszę. — Próbowała bezskutecznie zmniejszyć ilość dźwięków zakłócających rozmowę.

— Nie, z Tetsu wszystko w porządku… — uspokoił ją chłopak. — Dzwonię, bo… dzwonię, żeby ci pogratulować.

Wziął głęboki wdech. Od kiedy się bał? A już szczególnie jej. Powinien po prostu powiedzieć to, co od dawna chciał, ale na co brakowało mu odwagi.

W myślach przeklął przyjaciela. Zawsze w końcu wychodziło na to, że miał rację.

— Wiem, widziałam twoją wiadomość. Nawet ci odpisałam. — Dziewczyna zaśmiała się cicho.

— To nie koniec… dzwonię, żeby przeprosić. Za wszystko… Zrobię to lepiej, kiedy znowu się spotkamy… I chcę powiedzieć, że jeśli dalej masz ochotę kiedyś ze mną zagrać, to jestem gotowy.

Na moment po drugiej stronie słychać było jedynie odgłosy z tła. Nie był już pewny, czy dobrze postąpił. Może trzeba było użyć innych słów? Albo zrobić to w lepszym momencie? Serce waliło mu niczym młot. Zdenerwował się do tego stopnia, że wstrzymał oddech.

— Jesteś może teraz na boisku? — Pytanie całkowicie zbiło go z tropu.

— Tak, przed stadionem — potwierdził Daiki, nie rozumiejąc, do czego zmierza.

— Lepiej, żebyś był w formie. Zamierzam wygrać! Widzimy się za dwadzieścia minut. — Z tymi słowami rozłączyła się.

Aomine spoglądał na telefon, czując, jak na jego twarz kolejny raz tego dnia wstępuje uśmiech. Już wiedział, że to będzie dobry mecz...

#aomine daiki x reader #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basuke #oneshot x reader #kuroko tetsuya #chubby #generation of miracles

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willowed-wisp · 2 months

Text

misread horoscopes.

character: shintaro midorima x reader word count: 4,129 categories: suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff

She had had to keep it dwelled inside of her, sitting on the information she had for two weeks prior to her seated position. Her mind wasn't in the game that ensued forward, her husband playing some of the best basketball that the world had seen, it dwelled on the fact that she didn't know how he would react to the news.

Despite being married for seven years, together for six before he popped the question, they hadn't discussed bringing another member of the family into their world- but that was a possibility on the table. Y/N had always wanted children, however, Shintaro was the wildcard. The man had always liked his life to be lived in a particular way; buying his lucky item to avoid life threatening situations daily and wearing that stupid tape to ensure that nothing was left to chance with his three-pointers. The fact that she was pregnant could stir their relationship for the worst if the Boston Celtics shoot guard took it the wrong way.

The whistle blew, sounding the end of the match- with both teams shaking hands respectively. The spectacled member of the Celtics searched for his usually exuberant wife who wrapped her legs around his waist when victory had been achieved by his team. However, she could be seen out on the side lines- chewing on her nail with an absent-minded expression written on her features. He found team victories tedious anyhow, making it guiltless to examine his love. "Isn't your lucky item working today, my love?" He stated, as soon as she heard his voice, her sleeved arms latched around his neck while her legs rested where they had to due to his height, around his waist. It was an understatement to say that the male was taken aback by his significant other's behaviour. He knew the cameras were focussed on the couple in that moment as he felt dampening cover his shoulder. Why's she crying? Was his immediate thought as the verdant-haired player waltzed with his wife in his arms so that they could have some privacy. Members of his team would approach, motioning to the cradled Y/N Midorima and he would bat them off (partially due to his obliviousness to this entire situation, as well).

Calculatedly, the twenty-nine-year-old reached an empty bathroom. Y/N was set down on the countered sinks while her counterpart rotated the lock to the door; securing them in with each other. The woman saw the reflected picture of herself- dripping makeup spearing from her eyes. She pinned the pregnancy hormones for the out of character behaviour. "Are you going to tell me what just happened?" His position motioned towards her- gripping her wrists with enough precision to be gentle. He just wanted to look into those eyes he focused on when he became frustrated.

She wanted to brace her arms on the hilt of the sink that was beside her. It was as if the pressure of his possible reaction had her hefting the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'm on my period and the cramps are hurting like hell." A complete lie from in between her teeth, and he could sniff out his wife's bullshit even if she hadn't had been directly in front of him.

An exasperated sigh originated from the male, his middle fingers pushed up his glasses in frustration with her attempted deceit. "I know I've not been the most tolerable person to talk to- but you don't have to lie to me." Her eyes always found their way back to focus on his lower lashes; constant jealousy was the likely cause, but so had been the verdant rays which trickled within his vivid irises. His arms tugged her in close, she had nowhere else to look but him. "Oha Asa said unprecedented events would take place today and to be prepared for what lay ahead..." His mind relapsed into the hidden intricacies of the horoscope for that exact date, he thought maybe one of his teammates would become injured during the match or something insignificant in Shintaro's life- not that his wife was the unwarranted circumstance in which he was not in control of.

Despite the grotesque possibility that he would prevent her from having a child he planted inside of the womb within Y/N's body, the woman in question had nothing to lose but a barely developed month and a half year old foetus. "Actually, Shin… I can’t be on my period..." She had no idea why her body felt so small whilst under his attentive gaze as she awaited him to connect the dots in that intelligent brain that Midorima possessed. "Shintaro, aren't you gonna say anything?"

His hands had since dropped away from his wife and one held his face up- as if pondering something. "My mother has a remedy for excess stress... that train crash caused overtime at the hospital for yo-"

Her body slumped against the tiles that wound around the bottom half of the walls, proceeding to squeak down their glossy surface. Taking her husband by surprise and catapulting him into a sort of alert mode. "It's not the stress, Shin..." The woman began to fiddle with her hair in her own kind of frustration. "Y'know the day after the heated game against the Bulls- and we didn't have a condom but we did it anyway because you were so pent up?" His hair waved along with his neck, signalling his understanding.

His uniform creased by his forearms contorting under his chest. "That was two months ago- I'm shocked you still remember that." And it confounded how oblivious he was to such matters of pregnancy- probably because he had never had to deal with the experience and wouldn't have to. That was her job, an employment she happened to be dealing with in that precise moment.

Her sunken head raised as his fingers plucked her chin in an upwards motion, their faces unbelievably close- as they had been an infinite amount of times before that moment. While he was crouched, she gripped his other arm- placing his flat hand onto her stomach which carried his unborn child. A flicker of light cast from his glasses, he was finally in a daze of reality. "I'm pregnant." His entire being straightened upwards until he stood in front of the woman- whose eyes dripped with molten tears. "I'm sorry... I never meant for this to happen..."

It was her turn to bolt upright, at a lower rate to her love. "Sorry?" His voice echoed subconsciously in her ears; rattling any sense of safety she had in their relationship- this had the capability to end it because no matter what he said, she could never abort the baby growing in her uterus as the debacle ensued. Y/N's vision caught sight of his clenched fist as some moisture fell onto the solid floor beneath his body. "You're sorry about all of this, Y/N?" She was unsure of the tone he held, too out of tune with reality to intake that sort of information. Her hands caught her head as it collapsed along with the pool of fluid that escaped the sanctuary of her tear ducts.

Y/N knew he would be angry because he didn't want to be a dad- but it had a confounding effect on the woman.

Is this the end of our relationship? She questioned worriedly in her soul. However, she doubted if she had the strength to leave the side of the man she loved with every cell and fibre in her figure. Y/N didn't know if she could raise a child knowing that Shintaro Midorima had abandoned the two of them in the most dire of situations.

There was a sudden pressure felt on her bump-less middle. His emerald eyes resonating into her own, and the gleam wasn't from the glasses shielding his orbs- it was the reciprocated waterworks that enveloped what seemed to be his entire body. "And you're not playing around? You're one-hundred percent sure?" She knew he didn't let chance dictate his fate, even in this circumstance. Which meant this was the normal Shintaro Midorima she had met while he was a rookie for the team in which he played for in the current moments they spent with each other. Her head nodded- providing the man with a verified answer. "How long have you known for?"

"A couple of weeks but I was having symptoms two weeks before that.I thought I was overworked by how tired I was." He picked his wife up and rested her on the chic-looking sink counters. The stadium was furnished lushly for the players and this was one of the private toilets in which VIPs and/or players could utilise. Shintaro fitted in between her legs which had been only slightly parted but had been tapered to allow for him to have a deep seated connection with his one and only.

His head nuzzled in her neck meanwhile he cocooned her into an engulfing embrace; shifting Y/N's legs to resort to the position they had been whilst on the court. "I guess Oha Asa was right about the 'unprecedented' part of your day." Her words were clear as day while her lips were dangerously close to his sensitive ears. A chunk of green lurched, tickling the woman's neck in the shared second they endured together- caused by the monotonous chuckle that strayed from his direction.

"I'll overlook your doubt this one time..."

____________________________________________

Seven months had passed and for Shintaro Midorima, it was the second most important match he had ever had the pleasure to play. The championship match between the Phoenix Suns, against his most challenging opponent who could easily block his always-on-target three-pointers; Atsushi Murasakibara. His wife was, however, ready to pop any day- making the decision to watch the match from home. A couple of hours before his match ensued, she had felt a faint inclination that resembled a subliminal menstruation ache and Y/N had thought nothing of it. She was no obstetrician but she wished she had been over the past eight and a half months of pregnancy- the surgical resident was terrified. At least Shintaro was glad that there was to be a new addition in the family, which she had been anxious about throughout the first third of her first trimester. Y/N assumed that it was from the chocolate she had eaten earlier in the day.

In front of her, placed on the transparent, lowly structured table had been the assortment of indulgences that would have the privilege of being devoured by Y/N while the game was in action. Despite this, it would be extremely impressive if the woman could consume all of the snacking regiment before the long haul game was expected to finish. There were two powerhouse players that could delay the forty-eight-minimum minutes of gameplay. That along with the anticipated interviews that would take place despite the diversion of victory. As soon as the whistle signalled that the first quarter was in effect- with her eyes on her athlete husband, Y/N's cramping became somewhat staggering for her to endure. Her focus dissipated on Shintaro's game and onto the feeling that she expected clothing to experience while being ironed. She neglected the fact that she had described them as 'period cramps', now dubbing them as what a stabbing victim was forced to discern when that metal breached their flesh. However it seemed that the perpetrator lived beneath the skin. She knew in that minute what was occurring.

"Why now?!" She grumbled with gritted teeth concealing the already evident pain lingering in her tone. Her digits grasped tightly onto her smartphone as another wave of agony swarmed her abdomen. Pelvis gauged into the cushioned surface in which Y/N rested up, smartphone in hand- the woman had been compelled to clutch the bump that would hopefully dissipate once the being encased inside of her had been freed. "Fucking hell!"

Speedily her fingertips found the contact she had already accounted for- impatient whilst she awaited an answer from the other end. "Answer the fucking phone, Kise!" Neck craned with trickles of sweat sprinting down its side. Y/N knew that the pain would cease to exist once the delivery was finished, however, something told her that that wouldn't be close until she entered the intense stage of labour; signalling the moment when her water would eventually break.

Pant after pant, it had been an eternity to the woman but finally his voice rang in her ears, "Y/Nchhi, I'm sort of watching your husband's match at TD Gardens-"

"The baby's coming, Kise! I need you to, uh," another power wave of torment struck- leaving Ryota in action mode due to the reality of the ongoing situation. The call had been cut from Kise's end of the line, Y/N became plagued with worry as her eyes lingered on the television- devoid of focus on her husband as the blond locks of the Warriors' Small Forward pulled aside the coach of the Celtics. Something she hadn't wanted to happen- this was Shintaro's first love (other than the Oha Asa horoscope) and his wife did not want to relieve him of it.

"We see Midorima going in for another shot from the mid-way line and from this man's record, that means another three points for Celtics- who are up 10:2 against the Suns and their almost as incredible player Murasakibara."

"And what do we have here, Shaq? Celtic's coach Ime Udoka is calling a timeout... a possible injury, maybe?"

"It all seems to revolve around their Shooting Guard, for sure. We'll get information from Ime- wait, Mike... is that San Francisco's Kise down there with Udoka and Midorima?"

"Seems so... it's as though this is a personal issue of some kind- we both know his wife, Y/N, who is somewhere in TD Gardens cheering Boston on for victory."

"This young man has enough dedication to his sport and hasn't missed a single match in the entire season."

"Midorima seems to be... staying to play for his team in this NBA final at the home of the Boston Celtics... and there is still no news concerning the discussion that has taken place, however, we do know that Jaylen Brown will not be sent on during this match as the Celtics Shooting Guard- there is still hope for his position as a Short Forward to help his team claim victory over the Arizona side."

The power immediately departed from the television, as the woman managed to hobble over to the bathroom of their apartment. Making sure to support her body weight on various items of furnishing which scattered around her course- hand latching on the bag that she had prepared earlier. It ranged from the blanket in which they bought for their new born upon their entry into the world, to the lucky item that had updated every single day for the two probable zodiac signs for the baby for all of the eight and half months. This time, it seemed as though it was the frog plush animal that he held their first date- it was as if April 12th was the perfect date for their first born to enter the world (hopefully, with no complications). She only hoped that it was lucky for the match in which she knew her beloved would be striving in while she would be in labour.

_________________________________________________

He had been made to wait outside of the room, down the Maternity Ward- however, the blond could hear the wailing of one of his closest friends. While inside of the room, Y/N was too dilated to have the epidural that would have numbed the already molten nerve endings that she would have sworn would be melted at this point. Water had flushed out of her undercarriage twenty minutes prior- warning the woman of the intense labour pains she could expect. "Y/N/N, you're fully dilated. We need you to push, sweetie." It may come off as unusual, however, the doctor delivering her baby was one of Y/N's good friends at the hospital- considering she had been a resident for the past eight years. She saw how her pregnant friend's eyes prickled full of water- but Danielle had no time for nicety, the baby's oxygen would be depleting now there was no amniotic fluid to protect it with.

"I need him here, Danie! I can't do this without Shintaro!" It was as if she was referring to her husband as being dead. The woman automatically pushed, nevertheless, causing more of the baby's body to appear from her legs.

"You got this- I can see the head. Just a few more strong pushes!" The other woman in a state of reddening agony exasperated lengthy gasps proceeding to squeezing. She hadn't realised the sheer force that her bare hands had laid waste to on the bedding, which was stained with sweating imprints as the rest of Y/N's being was shifted at the foot of the furniture. "Just the legs to go, Y/N. You've got this!" She began to ready herself for the strain in which a final action would inflict on her own entirety. That was until she began to notice the blur of verdant that stood vacantly in the wooden doorway- the sheen on his spectacles stood our the most, other than his entire shamrock uniform. He didn't remain still when his wife released the last amount of effort she had held onto- it was enough for her baby to flood out and into Danielle's arms.

Shintaro instantly dropped his bags at the door- having darted to his beloved; pulling her lips onto his own, not giving in until he was satisfied with the duration required. "I'm so proud of you, darling..." His husky tone held her focus as he spoke against their formerly conjoined limbs.

In that moment, it had been as though nothing had occurred, the searing halted almost immediately from the lower regions of her body- feeling the relief about the entire experience that had progressed fairly quickly considering the long-haul births that some women can experience. From outside the squealing had been replaced with the electric tears of newly given life. Those who had produced their masterpiece were united in their display of waterworks all as her miniscule creation was nestled into her arms by one of the scrubbed nurses scattered around the room. Upon sighting into those bright blue eyes; ones that she was fairly sure would develop into ones alike her husband's- Y/N knew that Shintaro was not the only thing in this world that she would love unconditionally no matter what they did. "Y/N/N, Shintaro- meet your son!" The two had neglected learning the sex of their child, Shintaro would have obsessed over how Aries and Taurus men and women differ towards each other and because he actually wanted fate to decide something of its free will for once without his influence.

All that they were focused on was the new apple of their eyes- their baby boy. "He's gonna have your eyes," he smiled at her heartfelt statement, "and your crappy eyesight." Shintaro was instantly sent into a cascade of having his face sunken at that comment, but known fact, by his wife. However, he let it go- he didn't care as soon as he peered into both sets of vibrant eyes displayed before him. Those of Y/N Midorima and their newborn, unnamed son. "Did you win?"

His mossy hair began to contort with the vertical motions his own head spurted into fruition. "The media got wind of this. That blond brat should be banned off of Instagram, idiot broke the news on his story..." The muscles inside of his neck had begun to tense as he spoke, causing the woman beside him to brush her fingertips across the span of his cheek- which descended his gaze to their boy an additional occurrence. Not once had his under lashes flickered in boredom or falsity- it was genuine. He had never loved another being in the way he had the baby before him. Of course, Shintaro adored his wife- but the kind of way he felt for his own son was unconditional.

Y/N caught onto the subconscious want of her husband in that moment, her arms raised toward her right side. "Hold your son, Shintaro." There had been no hesitation on his part when his tapped left hand spread to cup the child's head while his right arm cradled the rest of his diddy body. "You're... surprisingly good at that~" A light chuckle shook the waves of sound around their vicinity- surveying the two men in her life from the moment that their child entered the world.

His deep green eyes delved into the baby azure ones- silencing the stifled cries from the being held in his arms with surprising ease. "Nobody is ever going to hurt you..." He had become even more of a softer person in a span of twenty minutes. It melted Y/N's own heart- it was burning in her chest. Especially when Midorima's nose and the junior version of himself began to rub their noses with each other; exuberant laughter rattled from the young infant. A gleam prominently illustrated across the Shooting Guard's features- a marvel in itself; it was painful for people to get him to smile- but this was more than that, he beamed with rays of energy. "I apologise for being late- they chose me to be the MVP for the season."

Her ears spiked up, "That's fantastic, Shin! Been a great season, huh?" He gave a long nod, eyes still focused on his son. "I think I have a name idea, honey..." His attention fixated on his wife. "This city has had such an influence on us this year and this little guy was born on the day his dad won with his team."

"I'm not opposed to that idea. But, it would be in fate's favour to have something linked to his zodiac sign."

"I know you, Shintaro... zodiac duty was already yours, babe." There was no hesitation in her booming, confident vocals. "You were already going to write on the birth certificate..."

__________________________________________

"In sports news, well... revolving around sports news... the Most Valued Player of the ended NBA season, Shintaro Midorima has become a father. Fans watching the events at TD Gardens were shocked as halfway through, Celtics' head coach, Ime Udoka, called off the Shooting Guard and speculations arose surrounding personal matters that could take him out of the game."

"Yes, Martha. Despite the events occurring, the Japanese player remained on court, only to receive the NBA championship win and the title of MVP for the Season."

"Details have been revealed by the couple. In an ode to the team that Midorima has won four championship titles with, their baby boy was named Boston."

"What a wonderful way to pay homage to the team that has held their Shooting Guard since his NBA debut. Wishing their expanded family all the best as celebrations continue among Boston fans, and commiserations dwell for Phoenix supporters."

"This has been Martha MacCallum-"

"- and Bill Hemmer, signing off on your six o'clock news."

Her head shook in disbelief, pressing the red button on the remote. "Why did Kise have to be the only one there at the match? He's airing out information to the press- unintentionally!" Her hips had become gripped by the man laid back on the reclining leather couch, causing her to crash onto his lap. He had precision after how many years they had been together. Y/N toppled gently across his legs before scuffling to splay out horizontally- her head resting on his thighs; eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Don't get worked up- Oha Asa says Scorpios are supposed to be having a relaxed day." Her cheeks puffed, as she grinded closer into his body. That was until the consistent shrills sourcing from the nursery became increasingly aware to the parents. "I'll get him, darling..." Before she could blink, he had plonked her onto the furnishing and had disappeared behind the door- the cries in which Boston had released ceased to exist as soon as he was in the arms of his father.

They both appeared from around the corner, with an addition. "He just won't accept any lucky item, other than this frog plush- does he know the terrifying things that can happen when not carrying your lucky item?" Y/N felt the tension of Shintaro envisioning what life would be without his compulsive habit. His eyes flickered wide at the hidden chuckle he had heard stray from Y/N- not acting on his disbelief; still fixated on the adorable vision of his bright-eyed two-day-year-old son. "Maybe it's not a horrendous turn of events, he may even look cute with that frog. Don't you, Boston? Yes you do!" She had never seen acting so... childish before, and it was a positive change for the woman who had only ever seen her partner act like an adult, even when he was a freshman university student with his basketball scholarship.

Not that Y/N would want to alter anything about Shintaro Midorima, it was a never-seen-before element to the man she loved.

#kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #midorima shintarou #x reader #husband midorima #pregnancy #nba #boston celtics #oneshot #phoenix suns #x fem reader #kise ryouta #murasakibara atsushi

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bloodyspade0000 · 5 months

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A/N: This is a part of a kiHai one-shot collection I've been working on. I decided to share it here but you can also read this on ao3

♤♡♧

"Don't leave...!"

Haizaki begged his dad who didn't look back as he walked out of the door. Leaving Haizaki with a mother with no love to spare.

...

"Don't leave..." he pleaded, grasping Nijimura's wrist.

Nijimura didn't say anything and pulled his arm away before walking off. Leaving Haizaki's heart a little more shattered.

...

"D-Don't leave...." Haizaki sobbed, watching his mother's casket lower to the ground and covered in dirt. Leaving him with only scars.

...

"Don't leave..." Haizaki whispered, glancing at the ground as he held onto Kise's hand.

Kise glanced at him, expression softeing and heart clenching. Whatever they were arguing about completely forgetten. "I'm not going to," he said, reeling Haizaki into his arms. "I'm not going to leave you."

Haizaki held onto him tightly.

And...

Kise stayed.

#oneshot #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #haikise #haizaki shougo #kise ryouta #knb fanfic

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heaven-s-black-box · 12 days

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The cooler Kagami- brother!Kagami & Older sister!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 15th, 2024

Description: helloo could i have kuroko no basket fic where reader is kagami's older sister? she works as a lawyer but she doesn't look like one due to the piercing on her lips, the habit of drinking and smoking addiction. she is such a chill person yet she can go profesional when it comes to her job. so you know that one episode where the seirin club went to kagami's apartment right? but instead of alex the team met the older sister please hehehe, thank you so much! sorry if this is too detailed

Notes: Content warning- drinking and smoking This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. Alex is still here but I thought it was funny. Bold is in English! This fic is very dialogue heavy. Smoking isn't cool kids, listen to Alex and Riko. The team's not saying the reader smoking is cool, just that her attitude is cool.

Word count: 830

Back to directory

“Bakagami!”

The sudden yelling startled Y/n awake. She jerked upright, eyes wide and heart pounding until she processed her surroundings. Wiping the string of drool from the corner of her mouth, she yawned and slid out of bed.

Her feet stuck to the bare floor of her room, and she stumbled over a stray t-shirt as she made her way to the door.

“Shut up!” She yelled, throwing her door open and looking out into the living room.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the bright lights, but when they did she was greeted with nine baffled faces and a girl in the middle of strangling her brother. She blinked at them slowly for a moment before stepping out of her room and leveling Taiga with a glare.

“Look, I’m glad you have friends but-”

“What’s going on ?” Alex’s tired voice asked as she stepped out of Taiga’s room.

Taiga pulled himself from the girl's grasp and stormed over to the two women.

“Put some pants on!” The Kagami siblings yelled, pushing Alex back towards Taiga’s room.

As soon as Alex was gone, Y/n turned back to her brother and grabbed him by the ear. She pinched and tugged at his earlobe making he yelp and bend down closer to her level as he begged her to let go. Instead of letting go, though, she dragged him out to the living room and took a seat at one of the bar stools.

With how he’d been bent, as soon as Y/n let go, Taiga tumbled to the floor.

“Ow…” he grumbled before sitting up on his knees and turning to Y/n with a scowl. “Why’d you do that?!”

“Why are you being so noisy?” She asked, tone level and face stern.

Everyone else in the room felt a chill run down their spine.

“It wasn’t my fault! If anything-”

“Your guests, your fault!”

“Um, actually-” Y/n shrieked, accidentally shifting too far to one side and falling off the bar stool onto Taiga’s lap. “Sorry.”

“When the hell did you get there?!”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Kuroko said, taking a sip of the water he’d been pouring. “And, the noise wasn’t Kagami’s fault, coach just saw a pack of cigarettes and thought they were Kagami’s, since he said he lives alone.”

“I do live alone,” Taiga huffed before looking from his sister to Alex who had just entered the living room. “So why are you two here?!”

Y/n smacked him upside the head.

“Keep it down, would you?”

“Aw,” Alex sighed, picking up the pack of cigarettes from the dresser, “Y/n, don’t you know smoking’s bad for you?”

“So is kissing everything that moves.”

“Hey! You know I only kiss women and children.”

“Look, I’ll stop smoking when you stop kissing everything that moves.”

“Hey,” Taiga pushed Y/n off of him, “let’s just all take a seat.”

“Fine by me, Alex? Can you bring me a beer?”

Alex made her way into the kitchen and came back with two cans of beer. She handed one to the older Kagami before popping the other one open for herself.

“Since when is there beer in this house?!”

“Since I bought some today?”

The rest of the Serin team awkwardly settled around the table.

“So, you guys are Taiga’s teammates? I’m Alexandra Garcia, nice to meet you!”

A kid who had a strange cat-like appearance was the first to speak up.

“Um, so, why do you…” his english was broken and uncertain, making Y/n stifle a laugh.

“You guys don’t speak much English, do you?” Alex asked, only to receive hesitant nos as people tried to figure out what she said. “Well, Japanese is fine then. I majored in it in college, and these two,” she flung an arm around Y/n and pressed the woman against her chest, “taught me some more.”

Y/n yelped, trying to keep her drink upright.

“Would you two please tell me why you’re here?”

“I had to meet with a client nearby,” Y/n shrugged, “and I didn’t want to catch the train home.”

“And I didn’t want to get a hotel.”

Taiga dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

“Client?” Riko asked.

“I’m a lawyer,” Y/n said as she took a sip of her beer.

“You don’t- ow!” Kogane was stopped by Hyuga hitting him on the back.

“It’s fine,” Y/n laughed. “I get that a lot.” She leaned across the table. “You don’t look much like a basketball player.”

“Hey! Ohhhh.”

Y/n got up from the table and grabbed a cigarette from the pack that Riko had found earlier. She waved at the guests.

“Well, get home safe,” she said before stepping out onto the balcony.

As soon as the door closed, she opened it back up and reached inside.

“Forgot my lighter,” she mumbled, then closed the door behind her.

“So cool,” the team murmured.

#researcher s's recovery #kuroko no basket #knb kagami #kagami taiga #kagami & reader #reader insert #female reader #oneshot #knb oneshot #rating unavailable

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selmasemlan · 1 year

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Breaking necks

Author note: Sooooo, Hiiiiiiii! I´m not dead, yeeeeyeyeyye. Okay, but for real, I have missed you guys and I see the love you´ve been giving my fics. Gosh almost wanna cry for all the love I have been giving, but anywhooooo. I´m back with a new fic. Aomine Daiki is my husband, my freaking soulmate. So have fun and leave a request, cause mama needs inspiration. Enjoy

Warning: None, just a lot of freaking fluff and soft sweets

Word count: 1231

Song Inspiration: A playlist on youtube called, Falling in love with a fictional character

Imagine.....

You´re sitting under a tree. The top of the buildings is painted orange from the light of the sun. The wind blows softly and carries with it leaves from the Sakura trees. You´re enjoying the silence and time you have by yourself.

Lately all of you, you and your friends have been busier than ever, with exams and sports events. You especially. You may have not been with them from the beginning, but when Kuroko and Kagami, also known as the troublesome duo, told you their story and goal, you couldn't help but join their quest. With the Winter Cup right around the corner, Kuroko and Kagami trained harder than they ever had before. You being a great friend watched them train and wait patiently.

Today you didn't feel like waiting inside, with the smell of sweat and the constant sound of shoes sliding across the floor and the ball bouncing. Instead, you wanted to savour the scenery of the colourful sky and the feeling of grass under your hands. It has been a while since you've had time for yourself, with joining the troublesome duo, making it the troublesome duo and their mother instead.

But you would be lying if you said that you hated getting the boys out of trouble, but would it really kill them to not get in trouble, especially with Aiko, who is terrifying when mad. But you felt like you had finally found your place.

This made you think. Aimone Daiki, the old light of Kuroko. He was an enigma that you just couldn't figure out. What was his deal? You just couldn't solve this stupid puzzle. A big part of you couldn't understand why you even bothered with a guy you only met a few times. But the small part of you, your gut feeling kept telling you to not give up on this person. So ever seens you first heard the story you've been analyzing and trying to understand him. Maybe it wasn't about him wanting someone to be able to beat him. Maybe he just needed someone to have fun with. Perhaps he needed someone to confide in, to lean on. Someone that wouldn't judge him, that one who would accept him for his flaws but still give him a reality check here and there.

You shake your head, trying to clear your head for a minute. What exactly are you trying to accomplish with this? It is not like the guy knows you exist. Even if he knew you existed he would want nothing to do with you. You don't even like basketball like that. The only reason you're involved is because of your friends and the fact that you love seeing them happy and passionate about their sport. You, on the other hand, don't have something like that. Maybe that's why you want to understand Aomine Daiki. You don't want to understand the person, you want to understand how a person who loves something so much, now hates it. Maybe it will also answer why you don't have something, a hobby you love.

"Yo!"

You turn your head so fast you feel your neck almost giving away. Behind you stands the very person you had been thinking about. Aomine stands there with his school uniform and school bag over his shoulder. The pain in your neck is so bad you grab your neck, trying to massage it to relieve the pain. You turn your face forward again and give a casual

"Oh, it´s you"

Aomine stares at you for a moment, trying to understand your reaction. He takes all of you in. Beautiful, beautiful you are. His brain struggled to understand how such a creature like you could exist. Everything from your eyes to the way you smile. He had seen you around the troublesome duo. Seen you cheer for them and hug them when they won against him and his team. He just wanted you to look at him, smile at him, and maybe even give him one of your cute laughs. God, what were you doing to him?

'Maybe she doesn't like me? Am I irritating? Did I do something wrong? Gosh she doesn't even wanna look at my ugly mu'You "g

"You know if you came here to meet the duo, you´re welcome to join Kuroko and Kagami in the gymnastic hall. That would probably be more fun for you than to stand here with me?"

How could you say that? He only came here for you. He´s been trying to get you alone forever now. Just to get a word in with you. The duo would never leave him and you alone. You might be the mother, but those two act like overprotective brothers when it comes to you.

"Actually, I´m here for you"

You, once again turn so fast you give yourself a whiplash. You bring your hand back to your neck and look down to not show Aomine how much pain you´re in. Also, you don't wanna show the fact what he said, had affected you. He was here, for you? No one is ever there for you. It´s always something about the duo.

'He´s here for me. He´s really here for me!'

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you look up, only to see Aomine a few centimetres from your face. He looks worried. His eyes had a question. God, was his eyes always this beautiful and clear? When they said that the eyes are the door to the soul, they weren't lying. In his eyes, I could see everything. The truth. He really was here for you.

"I´m fine, just maybe not shock me again for today"

Aomine pauses for a second and then a small chuckle leaves his lips.

"I´m sorry, but I had to say it while I had the courage to."

He was scratching the back of his head. He would not meet your eyes, but he didn't move away. His presents had a calming effect on you. It felt like your entire body just lit up to him. It just makes sense for the both of you, to be close. The world seems complete. Like two halves meeting in the middle. No, that is a too-perfect picture. It was more like you meet in the middle, with your flaws and everything.

"I was wondering?"

You look up at him. He still won't meet your eyes, but you can see that his complex had darkened.

"If your fine by it, and I mean it"

This time he makes eye contact with you and he stays. He grabs your hand and squeezes it as if it would bring him bravery.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You freeze for a few moments. A date? With him? His face changes a little to fear. He might have blown it. It´s only logical for a person like you to have higher standards than him. He looks down at the ground, looking for a stone to hide under when all of the sudden,

"I would love to!"

It´s Aomine turn to look up too fast and hurt his neck. A few seconds pass and laughter breaks out. Look at you a couple that seems to hurt both necks together. Maybe, just maybe this would work.

A couple that breaks their necks together, stays together.

#selmasemlan fic #aomine daiki x reader #aomine x reader #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basket headcanon #kuroko no basketball #aomine daiki #aomine daiki fic #aomine daiki oneshot #kuroko no basket fic #kuroko no bakset oneshot

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vespersposts · 2 years

Text

Sleepless

Hi lovelies 💝,

August means something to those who have an obsession crush like mine.

💙Let's all celebrate that nice Daiki's birthday together, hoping that sooner or later he will decide to move next door to me, or in my house directly. This story is self indulgent as hell, but when it comes down to him, even your serious author loses the plot. The story is pretty long so I decided to double split it, i think it'd be easy for the two-time reading.

📝 small side note: suffering from insomnia myself, I am well aware that the representation I have given is only useful for the purposes of the narrative, I hope it does not offend other nocturnal animals .

Happy birthday D! 💘

📮Comments, criticism, sharing and like are so appreciated!📮

Follow the #knbhousewarming or #housewarmingbyvesper to find all the entries, or just ask for a tag I’d be glad to add you.

Who’s gonna be next? ( 💜: He's HUGE!). If you prefer a different Knb boy, let me know!

Love always,

💋PS: If any of you amazing authors would like to contribute with original work to this series, that would be a dream for me. Please send me the link and tag me so I won’t miss any stories, and use the #knbhousewarming , as the platform sometimes gets crazy.

💣PPS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).

➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.

🏡 Housewarming Masterlist🏡

New York, Brooklyn Heights

Sunday, 03.15 A.M (ET)

A starry June night.

It hadn't happened to you for so long that you'd almost forgotten about it. You had started to lose bits and pieces of yourself sneakily, little by little, during a busy work period where sleeping hours were the last thing on your mind. A mountain of photos to edit, which the editor of the glossy fashion magazine you worked for had adored, promoting you to art director just to piss your predecessor. You had accepted, not so much because you were dying to find new trouble, but so that you could afford that house, in which you had dreamed of living since childhood.

It wasn't even like the other times: you were functioning. You worked too well, you worked twice as hard, you had twice as many ideas, but unfortunately you also thought twice as much. Perhaps you had not noticed it, but it stood there and had waited for the worst possible moment to make itself known.

The only unimportant detail, this time around your insomnia seemed not to want to go away.

One week, and if you hadn't slept at least five hours in three days you would have had to swallow the holy pills.

That's why, at that ungodly hour, you had slipped on leggings and trainers, zipped up your jacket over your sports bra, tied your hair in a high ponytail and, trotting down the building's stairs, were about to do the only thing that had worked in the past: tire yourself to death.

Off season for him mainly meant enjoying life.

That's why from October to April he called Cleveland home, but then the rest of the year he loved to spend it in Japan or in that flat that had been recommended to him, only a few weeks earlier, by an ex teammate. A city that looked like a district of elegant brownstone cottages, with a lovely tree-lined promenade along the East River, the same one along which the girl from flat 13 was probably headed.

"Going for a run in the darkest hours, how stupid! The night was for having fun, chatting, making love and eventually sleeping ” he had thought as he held the door and enjoyed your brief ritual exchange of 'Good morning / thank you / please be careful/ sleep tight'.

He had never ventured to ask anything , not even the reason for your strange habit of spending every night that God sent on earth awake and alone in the big flat in front of his own, going out onto the terrace to gaze at the dark night. He perceived you as a shadow against the window light, a shadow that stretched and sometimes danced to music that he couldn't hear, a shadow that returned to the night when you turned off the flat lights, and that came back from the night when your silhouette was dimly lit by the light of a faint candle. The very fact that he knew nothing about you, that he understood nothing about you, intrigued him. You were a nocturnal, wild and elusive animal and he was the only one who understood your rare nature. In his mind you were an assumption, a fascinating thought that he could not help but think about. A challenge, an exciting balancing act. Yet you had a boyfriend, so he was told by the lovely old woman who lived next door, whom you called 'Granny' , and for whom you gladly ran small errands. "An ordinary guy" the former opera singer had revealed to him, when she had subjected him to her personal entrance examination into the social life of the building. He had wasted so much time thinking about what kind of person might have attracted your attention that, ironically, for the first time in a long time it was he who was left alone for the night.

The sky changes, and you see the lights go on in other houses, the curtains open, and the day of people who know how to sleep can begin. You ask your pod for some music and turn on your computer, but your eyes see only one thing. You read his name in the inbox and open the email, only to realize how loathsome he can still be.

"I'll pick Grandma up at 11 a.m. Tight schedule. Make sure she has everything she needs and not just useless evening clothes."

"Go and die " you type back, adding a smiley emoticon as in your best tradition. It's always like that with Elliott anyway. Scion of a banking cult, slick student at your own private school, brilliant manager of the main branch of the institution founded by an ancient great-great-grandfather. You grew up elbow to elbow, he the only one able to tolerate your less than aristocratic origins, and you the only one able to handle his awful temper. A partnership cemented by the unconditional love you both had for that now elderly lady with a very tarnished memory, for whom you were both genuinely her beloved daughter's children.

You finish your tea, open the curtains and windows, so that the fresh dawn air enters the whole flat, hoping that it will wash away even that last shapeless thought. It's probably a side effect of sleep deprivation, your brain's way of getting the endorphins you deny it, but it's ridiculous that he makes you feel like a young girl on her first crush. You look towards his balcony, the window slightly open, the lights off, and you know he is sleeping, since you met him three hours ago. He was alone, but that boy was handling traffic in his house comparable to an airport terminal.

You smile at that innocent naughtiness of yours, which is only the result of the awareness that the relationship between you will remain formal. Grandma liked him, so it was common for her to invite him for tea or some fancy excuse. She would entartain him with anecdotes, or her fantasies, or a mixture of the two, and you would find him standing in front of you, tall and alluring every day; and every day you would notice a detail that shatters your determination not to pay attention to him. If only there was a freaking summer league, or if only he had gone back to Japan for his holiday, you would have had some respite from that constant assault on your senses. As it was meant to be, that day too could not pass without you finding him before your eyes for the umpteenth time, his charcoal shirt that couldn't look better on those perfect shoulders, his light trousers wrapped his toned legs, his enticing eyes following you around the room, now that you asked grandma permission to review her holiday suitcase. His loud laughter and his hands, those big, long hands of his, that had touched yours to deliver a glass of water, perhaps lingering longer than necessary, but more prosaically pandering to your anxiety, now that with the departure of the hostess, your chances to meet him would drop.

When Elliott arrives, the situation becomes surreal.

"You should go to lunch together" suggests your childhood friend, after spending the first half hour of his visit telling Grandma the epic story of the Japanese basketball champion, who is conquering the NBA, gloating like a teen in front of a k-pop idol.

"You know I go to Poppa's for lunch on Sundays" you cut it short, hoping to silence him, but the banker who looks like a Vogue model, is having none of it.

"In that Bed-Stuy dump?" he snorts, looking at Daiki as if the latter might know something about the toponymy of the quarters.

"Elliott, I was born there, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call it a sewer" you take him back, under the embarrassed gaze of your host.

"It sucks even if you were born there! Besides, what the fuck are you doing at Poppa's, if you don't even like meat! You're not a fucking rat anymore!" fights that big son of a gun. You fold your arms across your chest and are about to send him to hell, but he grabs you close for a hug, and you give in.

"Do you really want to take Aomine to a place like that, sis ?" he asks you , just to provoke you again, as if he expects a thank you for setting you up on a date. You look at him, half-close your eyes, about to give your answer when his voice shushes you both.

"Im so in for it. I'd like to see something different. You're gonna buy me lunch in return, deal? " his voice was so deep and warm. You'd like to make an excuse and leave him in that room, but the only thing you make him leave at home, as a precaution, is his watch.

"I hope you're not the fussy type" your voice comes to him out of the blue, shortly after you've taken a seat in a filthy underground car.

"No, I wouldn't say that " he replies, noticing how the landscape changes rapidly: from the open space of your nice district you move on to large buildings all leaning against each other, shops with broken or worn out signs, dirty streets and people with empty eyes.

"You're probably thinking Elliott was right, but ..." you carry on, as if suddenly embarrassed.

"Not at all. I was actually wondering why you moved, if you love your old block so much " he asks, turning his eyes from the window to your own.

"Because Bed-Stuy had nothing to offer me, apart from Poppa's cooking " you sigh " Since I had good grades, they admitted me to Elliott's school, but you can imagine what it was like. I was "rat" for everyone except him. Actually, when I took this train from school and went back home, all I thought about was how much I wanted to leave, how much I wanted to live in the beautiful Brooklyn Heights too, where the houses had lots of rooms and a balcony, where there were people like Grandma and not drug dealers and criminals. I'm not in love with this area, but I owe a lot to it, that's why I go back there every Sunday " you admit, giving him a glance, and he feels you so close and fragile that he would hug you tight, but he knows that would be inappropriate, to say the least.

You get off the metro, and after a short walk you find yourself in front of a row of buildings all alike, dense like the cells of a beehive, closed around a sort of common space that probably should have been a recreational area equipped with facilities, but now only looks decadent, sad and rusty. He saw groups of children playing haphazardly and cheerfully, kids with loud music watching you quizzically, elderly people raising their hands to wave at you, bullies making offers that fall on deaf ears, until you find yourself in a narrow, dark alley, right behind what must once have been a basketball court. Yet the entrance to the diner was on the main face of the building, as the arrow of the sign suggests.

"Come, don't be afraid, looks bad but it's safe" you mock him gently, your hand reaching for his one, your fingers interlacing with his to reassure him, but the effect his body sends back is a wave of overwhelming desire that makes his blood boil in his ears and leaves him unable to articulate words. He runs the palm of his hand along your forearm, over your skin, so soft and smooth. You look at him, open your lips to tell something, but he has already lost the ability to understand. Skinship, attraction, risk, a lethal mixture is pumped through his veins at an unsustainable pace. He is about to close his fingers around your elbow to pull you to him and take you, locking you against that cold brick wall, when a male voice roars your name and divides you.

Poppa is a giant with a contagious good temper and arrogant, hearty cooking, who immediately sets you up at the best table in the place, in the small green space at the end of the dark alley, just behind his kitchen. Your burger looks alive, judging by the amount of toppings and cheese it leaks, which is why you are teased by both of them, who over the years must have honed an exact technique for holding bread, meat and toppings together.

"It's not a guy who looks like him, Pops" you explain, making the man's eyes widen "I brought you the real deal!" you smile, taking a long sip of water. Now the man's attention shifts to you, because "He knew he had seen you somewhere before".

"That's me Sir. Aomine Daiki, the one who plays in Cleveland" you reply and see the man's eyes light up with joy. "Man! We are all crazy about you, you're a genius!" the man shouts, calling out to all his kitchen staff, so that they too can shake hands and take pictures with the man who scored an average of 22 points per game in the last championship. It starts a party, which soon involves the whole block and in which he seems completely at ease, so much so, that he willingly accepts to shoot a few rounds with a group of boys from the local team, raising the already torrid temperature considerably, when he takes off his shirt and asks you to keep it, completely unaware of the emotional tsunami that watching him play causes. If Daiki in grandma's kitchen is attractive, in his element he is the most sensual and exciting man walking on earth. The way he moves, his absolute mastery of his body, those bright eyes full of agonism and above all his smile so radiant and seductive, which he never fails to turn on you after every point scored.

"Awesome!" shouts the girl sit next to you on the bench.

To you it's not awe, it's crave.

That dangerous feeling does not leave you even when you return to the metro, when you shower in your flat only to knock on his door shortly afterwards, having agreed to have dinner with him, bewildered as you were by lust.

You find him exactly as you left, absorbed in a phone call with someone he likes as he laughs, but that's all you can understand as he speaks a fascinating but unfamiliar language to you, which makes his voice sound even deeper.

"Excuse me, bestfriends catchup" he smiles, as you reach to take two glasses from his hands, asking if he can get you water instead of the caffeinated drink he opens for himself.

"I can't sleep lately, so I'm trying to ... " you stop, because there is no need for him to know that embarrassing fact about you. He glances at you fondly, as if he really cares about your story.

"Yeah I mean, it's a period where I should also call someone special to relax" you cut in short, taking a sip of water.

“You can call him, I'm sure he'd love to be your hero! ” he suggests.

"Him who, though? Elliott?" you ask, as you follow him moving away from you to retrieve a set of flyers from the fridge.

"Your boyfriend" he says, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"I don't have a boyfriend " you answer with undue urgency, figuring out shortly afterwards the genesis of that misunderstanding, as Grandma had muddled up Elliott's boyfriend as yours.

"Time to get one, if you don't want the situation to worsen! " he says, approaching you, taking advantage of your discomfort to mess up your hair, and leave the flyers in your hands, with the options from which you will have to choose your dinner. Then he finally goes to take a shower, smiling at you blushing at his soft tease.

A normal routine.

"For a couple " adds your brain, which has evidently lost all its best cells, and can't think of anything else. You sit on the chubby rough linen sofa in the big white living room, look at the dark marble of the fireplace, the high neoclassical walls, the windows with their thin curtains, close your eyes and lean your head , trying to avoid the storytelling of that absurd fantasy. Yet, all the naughty things you two could be busy doing on every surface of that huge house, are the only thoughts swirling around in your head. That sharp desire takes all your energy away, surely making you look pathetic in his eyes, actually used to see models, and not a vapid chick like you. You rub your face and take a deep breath, feeling a sudden saddness that makes your body heavy.

He quickly ran a towel through his hair, pulled on a white T-shirt, fastened his dark trousers and inhaled, because after that day, it had been a terrible idea to ask you to stay for dinner. He wasn't ready, and now what he had felt after your last conversation was haunting him, reverberating endlessly in his mind. He wanted to take care of you, he wanted to be him and no one else the mainstay of your life, and that was upsetting, because that was not the way he was. He was careless, free, unattached. Yet he would not have tolerated you perceiving him that way. He wanted to be infallible in your eyes. He wanted to be the one, unrepeatable, incomparable, irreplaceable.

And then he wanted to have you. He wanted to have you so badly.

He smiled because on the large sofa in the living room you looked so tiny, all curled up on one of the large linen cushions, one bare foot on the edge of the furniture, your small hand beside your sleeping face, your soft breathing , your hair spread over your shoulders left bare by the pretty blue dress you were wearing.

Too damn cute.

He dimmed the lights in the room until they went out, leaving only the pale reading light on, retrieved a blanket, but stopped shortly after because a sudden flick of your eyelids caught his attention.

"Dai-ki," you tell him with a sigh, probably still in dreamland, as you can't keep your eyes open. You smile as he approaches and slowly strokes your head, running his fingers through your hair and over the nape of your neck, sitting on the rug at the foot of the sofa so he can see you.

" I'm here" he says gently to your sleeping self, resuming his slow, sweet caress.

"Speak to me, tell me something in your language, anything " you call him out in a smooth voice, so innocent but with a hint of need that immediately roused all his senses

"Daisuki na, oyasumi nasai. Yoku nemureru to iine." (*) he indulges you idly, more to himself, thinking that you may have already caught up on your sleep, so beautiful and cuddly that those words come out naturally, as if he is breathing.

"Your voice is so sultry , it gives me chills " you murmur, blinking a little, your soft lips curving upwards.

"Chills?" he asks back, amused.

"Anything about you is so damn attractive, do you have any idea how tiring it is to resist ? " you admit, laughing quietly at your own boldness, turning towards him, so close you can feel his scent. He smiles at you, bringing your forehead into contact with his. You open your eyes and you feel your body slightly shiver , when he demands your undivided attention, pressing his thumb against your lower lip as he whispers those words.

"Then don't"

He closes the distance between you, working his way over you, locking his eyes in yours, making you sigh. His lips join yours with a light touch, that immediately deepens. He smiles against your lips, his tongue plays with yours, his voice claims you with a sensual moan to which you immediately surrend, as you do not want him to miss anything about you. You smile just to catch your breath, and kiss him back wholeheartedly. His eyes close ever so slightly after yours, allowing him to lose himself completely in your warmth.

It hadn't happened to you for so long that you had almost forgotten. You had forgotten what it was like to wake up in the house of someone who smiled at you, while you were having breakfast on the terrace of his flat, who stole your food, teasing you because you had fallen asleep like a stone on his sofa. A funny, handsome man with a childlike soul who, only a few days earlier , you had hoped would spend the off season light years away from you, but who now, leaning next to you on the railing of his flat, already seemed too far away.

(*): Hopefully it's the correct form for "Goodnight, my love. I hope you sleep well"

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