𝗞𝗡𝗕 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀 !!
ꕤ 𝐀𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐈 as childhood friends-to-lovers. The two of you have been sticking next to each other since you could ever remember—he knows every single dream you have and promised to reach them together with you, and you promised to be by his side regardless whether he’s soaring or falling. Aomine was your other half and you were his too.
Those were the innocent promises you’ve made when you were both kids. And now that you’re both grown up, his height towering over yours and your body growing curves, every time he hangs his arm on your shoulder or when you hug his arm close to you; it sends butterflies all over your tummy. You’re not sure whether you should be feeling this way, oblivious to your mutual feelings.
Though, you couldn’t say that the both of you didn’t feel it. His hold on your hand lingers longer than it should, your gazes seeping tenderness and signs of jealousy whenever someone of opposite sex gets too close to one of you.
But neither of you are bold enough to admit your feelings, fearing the risk of your friendship torn apart. So you let the lingering touches be, only allow yourself to show your longing gaze whenever his back faces you and bite your tongue as yet another girl confesses to him.
ꕤ 𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐀 as fate’s second chances. You used to be friends but eventually, the both of you grew apart with your own lives, almost forgetting about your friendship until one day, you bumped into each other and his name starts to be on the top of your call history again.
There’s not a day where one of you forgets to text the other, not a single night where the two of you doesn’t lay on your beds and talk about your day on the phone. And suddenly, Kagami is back into your life and he refuses to leave again; slowly making himself apart of your life more and more. Until he’s sending you home everyday and you’re cheering his name the loudest in all of his matches.
ꕤ 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀 as dense people in love with the help of their friends. It started when his friends called out the way he looks at you, eyelids softened and relax, orbs brighter than they’ve ever seen. Even he himself was shocked to his feelings, spending sleepless nights thinking all about it—thinking all about you. It took a week after his realisation only did he ask his friends for advise. After all, he’s more clueless about love than anything else.
While on your side, you’re begging your friends to help you out with the boy who you thought didn’t have any feelings for you. The shy smiles he sent you as per Hyuga’s words and the awkward conversations he tried to start seemingly useless to your oblivious mind.
Though, the same goes for him too. The homemade bento you gave him that you’ve spent an hour before school preparing with the excuse it was leftovers from the night before and the sports drink you’d give him after his practice flew over his dense head even his teammates were absolutely flabbergasted.
So the battle between Kuroko and your friends began, just to see which one of you would finally get your feelings through your equally dense heads.
ꕤ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐀 as something more than just friends. Every conversations you make would turn into something flirtatious, then you would both laugh it off afterwards, before either of you slips a glance at the other.
Everyone around you are always screaming at the two of you to get a room because of how heavy the chemistry between the both of you is—but neither of you would do anything other than throwing teasing words around and accidental touches.
It’s like you’re both running away from your feelings, afraid to confront the other for something serious; afraid that you’re going to be toyed with and get your heart broken. Yet when someone asks you out on a date, you’d reject them with him in mind.
Ironically, the longer you stay silent about how you really feel, the more painful your heart becomes until it’s almost unbearable. Kise’s just a little away from your reach; he’s yours but not at the same time.
ꕤ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 as friends-to-lovers. The base of your friendship starting with what the two of you like in common—snacks. Your first impression of him was some big intimidating basketball player until he’s sitting next to you in the back of the class; where the real party is.
Not 10 minutes after the class started did you hear some kind of stomach growling before Atsushi turns to his bag pack and takes out a big bag of chips along with a pair of scissors. He’s quiet as he cuts the packet with the scissors, as if he’s experienced with it.
Watching him snacking beside you, back hunched like an old man and a hand over his chewing mouth, made you hungry for some snacks too. So, you took out your own caramel corn. You sit at the back of the class anyway, you had to have snacks ready in your bag.
Peering at you, Atsushi’s eyebrows jumped up a little before pointing at your snack, asking for an exchange with his. And from then on, you’ve been sharing snacks in classes almost every single day, until one day you find a piece of paper inside the opened bag of chips he handed to you.
‘Wanna go buy snacks tgt?’
ꕤ 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 as enemies-to-lovers. It started off small with his original hatred for you; like when you would raise your hand a second faster than him in class when the teacher asked a question or when the voting for class president between you and him turned out to be a tie. Then occasionally, he would overhear classmates talking about how you’re perfect—captain of your club, vice-captain of the student council and there’s no single flaw in your personality and looks.
Perhaps it was jealousy? He didn’t know, such a feeling was foreign to him after all. And as time passed, he saw you as a sort of competition, a threat that he had to defeat. Until one day, when you’re both put into a project, which would take weeks to complete in the least, together by your teacher. Of course it annoyed him, pissed him off but he still had to finish the project with you any way.
You were well aware of Akashi’s hate for you, and his incredible superior complex too so you thought working together with him would be tough; or maybe somehow get you killed as well. But it turned out that he didn’t really planned for your demise, although he would ignore your texts and ideas regarding your project—he didn’t have to say aloud but all you needed to do was to follow his lead and you’ll be fine.
Well too bad for him, you’re as persistent as a mosquito, following him around campus and even going to his practice just to ramble about what you think you should do for the project; completely ignoring all of his threats that he’ll hurt you. Until eventually, he couldn’t handle you anymore and agreed to let you play your part in the work. And that was the start to everything.
Discussions in the school library turned into working in his house’s library. Rides to his house turned into walks to your house after school. And his hatred for you, turned into yet another foreign feeling in his ribs.
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in which you’re Kise Ryōta’s best friend, forced to watch him disintegrate before your eyes, his teeth growing sharper, his laughter going higher and his smiles getting faker.
your friendship is one of the things you value most in your life.
unbeknownst to you, he wants to ruin it.
long one-shot, alternate pov
cheerleader!reader
light angst, fluff, pining
mellow, anime!kise because i’m delulu of his manga version (at least in this fic)
“What? What is it? Intimate? Private? Personal? But what are friends for, if you can’t talk to them about what really matters? All these nights we spent talking together… How could you? How?”
The Name, Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de la Patellière
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You’ve known Kise Ryōta for as long as you could breathe.
Technically, you can’t remember your first meeting, since you were both in glass cribs in a Tokyoite hospital, blissfully unaware of the summer heat, but just as you were neighbours as babies in the maternity ward, you were neighbours as little toddlers in the sandbox, and neighbours as children, waving to each other from your window.
Then you had your first significant meeting in a gym. His elder sisters were taking ballet classes on the upper floor, and you were stuck together during stretching exercises in your rhythmic gymnastics class. You had offered your name, he had offered his, and it had been the childish equivalent of blood-brothering yourselves to each other.
Since then, you had been glued at the hip, like conjoined twins (without the unfortunate medical complications, of course), and people were more surprised to find you on your own than with each other.
You had followed Kise in every sport endeavour he had undertaken, from swimming to baseball, from gymnastics to volleyball, cricket to soccer, short-track and figure skating and cycling, and you watched as each time he mastered a sport and gradually grew bored with it, while you got into cheerleading in third grade and never regretted that decision. You waited for each other at the end of the school day, him on whatever sport activity had struck his fancy at the time, you running drills with the cheer squad, and you always stopped for drinks on the way back home, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Your parents never minded the fact that your best friend was a boy, because they had known Kise since he was little too, and you weren’t short of girlfriends thanks to the cheer squad. Though one day you had come back home crying, and your mother had gone into full mama bear mode, until you told her Kise had choked on a bone fish at lunch. You had never been so scared in your life and you had really thought he was going to die. Your father offered to sign you up for first aid classes, and you had dragged Kise with you.
************************************************************************
Middle school had been the first time you were separated. You went to Teikō Junior High, while Kise joined Teikoku Junior High, a school known for its invincible soccer team.
You made the mistake of briefing him on Teikō’s basketball team. To this day, you still don’t know if you forgive yourself or not. But in the end, you’ve decided that time in your lives had been necessary, and your relationship hadn’t been broken to the point where you couldn’t mend it.
Kise had taken on modelling, and as always you had been as supportive as possible, secretly hoping he would stick to it, that he had finally found a hobby that would keep his interest. He had wanted to get his ears pierced, because it would make him look cool, and you had decided against telling him that earrings could cause accidents. Two girls on your squad had been practising back tucks, and one had accidently caught the other's loop earring while spotting her, and you still remembered her shrill scream and all the blood that had dripped on the mat. However, you had had your own ears pierced a while ago as a birthday gift from one of your aunts, and you had noticed the way Kise looked at your ladybugs pendants. You had always done everything together, maybe he was feeling like he was missing out on an experience. So all in all, you hadn't thought it would be a bad idea, all things considered.
Hoo boy, were you wrong.
You had ended up in a café, sharing a tiny strawberry shortcake because you were both on a diet thanks to your demanding activities, and Kise was still sniffling over the pain of the piercing. You had left Claire's with him clutching his left ear, and your endless stream of comforting words had sort of calmed him, but he had refused to pierce his other ear. You had stopped on your way to buy disinfectant, and, without his knowing, a pair of small ring-like silver earrings. And, over the half-eaten shortcake, you had offered him an earring.
"You know, I think you'll look even cooler with only one. It's a style and I'm sure you'll rock it!"
He had looked up from his spoon, eyes still a bit watery, but glinting with hopefulness.
"You think so?"
"Of course! Here, take it."
You had made sure his wound was clean, and you had slid in the earring's pin. Then, you had slipped the other earring on your right thumb.
"Look, I'll keep it until you want to pierce your other ear. How about that?"
He had nodded, and both to change the topic and cheer him up, you had said:
"You know, my school has this incredible basketball program, and you haven't tried basketball yet, right?"
That's when everything started going south.
************************************************************************
You didn't mind being small.
Sure, sometimes you wished you would be a bit taller, mostly because you couldn't afford to gain weight, as on your frame it would show immediately and your coach would double your drills, but you knew that your small height was what allowed you to be top girl. You could back tuck into next year any girl on your squad, and any boy on the gymnastics club. Your kneecaps had been stunted by tumbling, but you didn't mind.
Except when Kise joined the basketball team and suddenly every person you hung out with was way, way, wayyyyyy taller than you.
Even Momoi, who didn't even play basketball, was taller than you.
At least none of them were jerks about it. Most of the time.
"Come on, stop sulking!"
"I'm not sulking!"
Aomine was easily the worst offender. At least purple-haired guy (Murasakibara? was that his name?) wasn't really mean about it. Plus he towered over everyone so you never took it personally. Aomine however always seemed to have fun asking you how the snails were faring today, since you were so close to them. You had no idea how Momoi managed to put up with him 24/7. Though it was true that with his negative 20 IQ thing going on half the time, Aomine was mostly manageable. You’d offered to tutor him, and had been blown away by how many subjects he was failing.
“I thought Kise was bad at school,” you’d said, ignoring your best friend’s theatrical pout, “but you take the cake.”
“What cake?”
“Go back to sleep, Murasakibara.”
(You haven’t seen Kise smile like that in a while. You’re not sure Teikoku was a great place.)
So you hung out with the first-string after practice, head still pounding with the pyramid counts, thighs bruised by the bottom bases’ grips, your shoulder still smarting, pain lancing through your arm. You tried not to throw up the ice-cream you bought, and you turned your head when Momoi touched your arm.
“What do you think about this app? It could be useful.”
You shook your head, looking up to the pink-haired girl.
“Once, I’ve entered Kise’s data in it—”
“You what—”
“And it told me he was three months pregnant. So, those apps are weird. You’re better off tracking it manually on a calendar.”
(The truth was, you didn’t know. You hadn’t had your period yet. None of the girls on your squad had—except Sachiko, and you’d never seen her again after the day you’d heard her crying in the bathrooms).
Momoi smiled, before catching sight of Kuroko and launching herself onwards like a rocket, earning little more than a deadpan look, though you could see the fondness under it.
But truly, you didn't mind, because for the first time in virtually forever, Kise looked genuinely excited about his new hobby. You thought that this time he really found companionship and stimulation. You smiled back at him whenever he turned to you in the bleachers after a successful shot, marvelling at the way he seemed to light up the whole court as soon as he stepped on it. His happiness was your happiness. So you'd never shown defiance towards the basketball team. You really hadn't thought that one through.
************************************************************************
You went shopping together because Kise had wanted a new phone and you were on your fourth store raid already. You didn't see anything wrong with his current phone, which still had on its back the Hello Kitty sticker you had given him when you entered middle school. Sure, it was peeling a little, but it was fine. Kise only asked for the phone's capacity and photographic quality each time, and off you were on your quest again. Munching on your fizzy drink's straw, you raised your head as he rushed towards you. Before you could ask him if he had finally found it, he slung one arm over your shoulders and told you to smile.
Heads bonking over the screen, you grinned at each other. You were both weak for selfies and your own phone didn't have any storage space left for them.
Kise made that one his lock screen picture, and turned fully to you.
"See, it takes pictures better than my eyes."
You had smiled, too, and you'd never questioned his enthusiasm over it.
************************************************************************
Kise's modelling activities had several perks.
For one, you got to meet so many hot people it should have been illegal. You could also get reductions on self-care products, and you were too cute to be broke, so you accepted it without problems. You even got to meet (well, stare at from afar) the photographer of your favourite girl group. Half the pictures on his Instagram account were taken by you, and thank cheer practice for flexibility, because you had to contort like a circus artist to get the best angle each time.
However, his fangirls weren't one of them.
Even though your relationship was strictly platonic, you still got some really hurtful letters and even texts (how did they even get your number?), and after a while you simply blocked them out. You had lost count of all the people trying to get to Kise through you, using you as a means to an end, and you just tried to screen the people that had vile intentions.
Though you could still see how it weighed on your best friend. He was nice and bubbly with everyone, and even if you worried about the mental gymnastics he had to do, you knew he wouldn't turn into a people-pleaser. A few days ago, you had snapped at one of your squadmates who had called him a "two-faced asshole" after being (quite politely, might you add) rejected.
And across from you, he had looked glumly at his (fishless) bento, and you had asked him what was wrong.
"There's this girl that keeps following me," he had sighed. "I tried to let her down but she's incredibly annoying. And clingy," he had grimaced.
Vaguely, you'd remembered a brown-haired girl who was always lingering at the basketball gym's door when you came after cheer practice to go home with Kise.
"So she's bothering you. Want me to go talk to her?"
"No! No, it's fine."
You knew he couldn't be blunt because it would come across as rude and the rumours would kill him. Still, it made your stomach churn with anger.
When the girl had latched onto Haizaki, as you comforted Kise after his crushing loss, you thought that at least it was one less thorn in his side.
************************************************************************
You had realised you were drifting apart at the end of your second year.
Cheer practice had been cancelled because your coach's kid was sick, and you were wandering aimlessly through the streets of the commercial district, half your mind on which high school you would have to go to.
And then you had crossed paths with Kise, who had looked like he was going in one of the glass-paned windows buildings, and you had stopped dead in your tracks. Not because he was where he wasn't supposed to be, but because he had seen you and smiled at you. You recognised that smile. It had the undercurrent of tension that was usually reserved for his fangirls, and it was directed at you.
"Shouldn't you be at practice?" you'd asked.
"Should I?"
That was how you'd known something was deeply wrong.
The basketball team wasn't exactly your friend group, since you hung out with the squad most of the time and without Kise, you didn't really have anything to say to them, except maybe for Momoi and Kuroko. And still you noticed how Aomine was nowhere to be seen, and even Midorima didn't bother with acknowledging you in the halls.
And worst of all, you'd watched Kise's eyes go back to being glazed over with boredom. Every time you asked him if he wanted to talk about it, and every time he reassured you, saying nothing was wrong.
Kise had never lied to you. He had always known all your problems and secrets, and you his.
Somehow, you felt guilty about what happened.
************************************************************************
Teiko was not known for its leniency when it came to sports practice.
Still, it was you who’d foolishly risen to the bait of your squad captain, and here you were on a Friday evening, shrugging icy water off of you hoping for feeling to come back to your toes, when you could have been at home already soaking in a bubble bath.
One good thing: nothing hurt anymore, since your limbs had fallen asleep. You could still catch the last train, so you made it out quickly, grabbing your bag. You walked stiffly to the exit, unwittingly going next to the basketball gym, ruining all your efforts.
(You hadn’t taken the challenge to prove anything to that empty-brained tumbler. You knew it’d hold you back enough so you could miss Ryōta on the way home and pretend it was club stuff. You’d been avoiding him and pretending not to notice his hurt looks. You were unravelling.)
So, that day, walking past the gym, steeling yourself not to look inside, you heard those words.
“Next time we see each other, we’ll be opponents.”
You sped up, almost running to the bus stop, your ankle smarting again after your short run had warmed up your body, heart beating to the confusing tune of hurt and longing.
You weren’t sure you could handle three more years like this.
************************************************************************
Sixteen and born to win, you hopped on the train right as the doors closed, slipping in without so much as a hair caught between the metal edges. Your nails flashed hot pink against the grey of your new uniform skirt, and your hair was tied neatly. You were ready to hit the mat before breakfast.
Of course, you dropped on a seat and immediately let your head fall against the window, catching up on your lost sleep.
Under your eyelids, you couldn’t stop your mind from flashing your phone’s black screen, Kise silent after you’d texted him you couldn’t walk to school with him because of club imperatives, your heart sinking a little in your chest. You couldn’t help but remember the knowing look Momoi had given you at graduation when you’d told her which high school you were going to. As if she were one to talk—you hadn’t made any comment when she’d said she would be going to Tōō! And anyway, it was either this or Shutoku, and you wouldn’t be caught dead on the same squad as your former cheer captain. That girl was going down this year or else.
High school was going to be a good time, you’d make sure of it. New place, new people new rules, new you.
************************************************************************
When Kise Ryōta was five years old, he learnt that little girls could bend in half.
He saw one of them do it, in the gym where his oldest sister had left him while she took her dance classes on the upper floor.
She had bent so far that, for a second, he had been worried she would snap in two.
He would never forget that moment—the moment he discovered what extraordinary meant.
He would never forget any of the moments that came after, when you had told him your name and became his friend at a time when he was so lonely it hurt.
As you both grew up, he’d started to worry you would move on. Find someone better, someone more interesting. Someone truly gifted in something the way he wasn’t—copying is the lowest form of the wit, after all, or however the saying went.
Or maybe he would get bored of you. Get bored of seeing the same face day after day.
Unfortunately, as the years passed, he didn’t grow bored.
Kise discovered a new sentiment: frustration.
And you were painfully oblivious to it, wrapped up in your own worry.
************************************************************************
First-aid classes with you were horrible for his blood pressure.
Sometimes, the instructor felt merciful and let you practise on mannequins. Other times, the elderly man fancied himself a hotshot cardiac surgeon or something and forced you to practise on live bodies. “A mannequin can’t prepare you for the feeling of ribs breaking under your hands,” he had said, dead serious, with a dozen teens looking uncomfortable as hell.
You insisted on signing up every year in order not to forget the manoeuvres. He knew where that came from, and sure, if he was to choke on a bone fish again or go into cardiac arrest from a bad collision, there’d better be someone who knew the Heimlich manoeuvre and CPR. But if you were the one doing it? He was going to choke anyway.
You hovering over him, eyes on his mouth, gaze focused and jaw set? Yeah, every session was torture and you didn’t even notice. Were you even his friend? Did you even care a little bit about his feelings? How could you not feel the way his skin burnt under your fingers when you pulled him into a practiced recovery position?
As he drifted away from his own teammates, from the new passion basketball had kindled in him, he decided against telling you the only thing keeping him coming to practice was the thought of walking home with you.
************************************************************************
He didn’t have a clue most of the time.
Everything was fine, and then something switched. The day he started undressing you in his head—absent-mindedly, like it was nothing at all, like you weren’t his most precious friend, like he wasn’t unravelling the last thread of his reality—was the day he knew he was fucked six ways from Sunday. You were stuck in a push-and-pull with each other, and he didn’t know what to do.
It seemed Kise could not keep his friendships going smoothly.
You holding his hand or hugging him was never a problem before. He refused to spoil your relationship like with the other Miracles. On the other hand, throwing it all away was so tempting, the easy way out, burn all the bridges and pretend it never happened. If you had been someone else, he’d already have done it. But you were you. You were not some girl he could just toy with, speeding it up to get faster to the break-up.
On a good day, he would psych himself into trying to talk to you—and always failed miserably to follow through with his plan.
When you were younger, you’d hold sleepovers at his or your house, in the dark, by candlelight, giggling uncontrollably until his sisters or your parents came to scold you gently.
He appreciated candlelight even more now, some seven years later and several hours a day spent under the unforgiving blinding flash of a photographer’s camera. He liked the warm flickering glow of it, how the candle slowly died, and you’d agree on going to bed, but would end up talking again until either of you fell asleep. He liked catching glimpses of you in the dark, piecing you back together in his head, fragments of you in this soft glow haunting his dreams, and he'd wake up with strands of your hair in his dry mouth and his hands uncomfortably close to you and he'd go straight to the bathroom. Being overly enthusiastic at breakfast didn’t quite make up for it, unfortunately, and he’d pretend not to notice the question in your gaze.
At the height of summer, he gave up on faking indifference at the way your shorts rode up on your thighs, showing blue and purple bruises where you’d been gripped countless times, propped up by bottom bases for a pyramid. Lying on the grass, he tried to focus on your words despite the blood rushing in his ears, thinking about how much he wanted to make those bruises his doing, how he wanted to—
He came later and later when you were having sleepovers, photoshoots and practice eating away at his time, smiling sheepishly to your father working in the living-room, you were already half-asleep on your covers spread on the floor, near your open window, aquarium glowing softly purple, pump-pump-pumping water. Your eyes two bright spots on your lit-up face when you pulled gently on his sleeve to make him lie down next to you. He complied every time, exhaustion making his limbs weak. He tried to sleep and not think about how hard it was to not touch.
School was no respite for him. When he managed to hide from his fangirls, you spent the break stowed away, pressed against each other like when you were little, and life was a river under a rainbow. You leaned on his shoulder in the hallway, staying still until the motion-activated lights turned off.
You would both pretend everything was fine, and that this wasn’t the worst time of your lives.
************************************************************************
You looked at him but you failed to notice how he looked at you—how his gaze followed the hair catching at your mouth whenever you landed a tumbling pass, ponytail flipping, how he trailed close when you walked on railings by the road on the way home, how his breath hitched when you dismounted with an aerial walkover as if a car didn’t zoom past you at one hundred miles per hour, looking back at him and shooting him a cocky grin, how you were always confident and invested in a single thing, laser-focused on your passion.
The hardest thing in cheer was not the tumbling passes, or the pyramids, or the hours or the gruelling practices, the injuries or the rivalries. It was the smile hiding the lactic acid building in the muscles, it was the spring in the step on hardwood floor, the unfailing cheerfulness.
“Why do you like it?”
He’d asked one day, at the end of cheer practice, which for once had overrun basketball—they needed to prepare for regionals, especially with Shutoku’s squad firing on all cylinders on the circuit this year.
“I’m part of something,” you’d said. “I’m part of something and I don’t have to look at myself.”
After a moment, you’d asked:
“Why do you like basketball?”
He’d paused to really think about it for a minute, and realized he’d finally settled on an answer long ago. He just had to acknowledge it.
“I’m part of a team.”
************************************************************************
Highschool saw you fall into a tentative, sincere routine that was an attempt at going back to the way things were.
(When will you both admit things changed? You were waiting to see who would break first.)
You walked to and from school together. Ease came back as you stopped awkwardly greeting each other, picking up the conversation where you’d last left off without missing a beat, like before. It felt safe, comfortable.
You came to Kise’s games with a spring in your step, happy to see him interact with his teammates, happy to see that Kaijō was free of the currents of tension that had plagued Teikō’s last days.
You went back to your favourite hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, sharing food the way you used to. Everything clicked gradually back into place like synchronizing heartbeats, and even though you knew things would never be the same again, you did your best to make up for what happened, and he did too.
Maybe this was your way of apologizing. Maybe it was his, too.
“I think I need a new lock screen photo,” Kise said one day, gauging your reaction.
“Yeah, I think you do,” you answered.
You grinned at each other.
Things always looked up eventually.
************************************************************************
One second you were soaring in the air under the blinding lights of the stadium, so high, high, high up you could have sworn you touched the rafters, your whole body tight and arms crossed on your chest as you completed your flip, heart rattling against your ribcage partly because of the booming music and partly because of the sheer excitement you’d been feeling.
The next second, your head was meeting the unforgiving, hardwood, polished floor of the court, your squadmates desperately scrambling for you, painted nails scratching at your arms, thighs and waist, clutching and leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin, and as you were propped upright, you felt sticky hot blood coating your forehead and hairline, and you blurted out: "Oh, that's not good."
The good side of things was that you didn't really feel the pain, since you were living an out-of-body experience. It had started when your squad got on the court, as always, your body slipping out of your mind's control to execute the choreography, the tumbling passes and pyramid beats, and even your injury couldn't jolt you back to reality. Adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, and the hallway was swirling a little. One of your squadmates was standing guard near the bench you sat on, trying not to lie down, and your coach had called an ambulance. You had started debating internally whether falling asleep and risking not waking up was worth it or not when you caught a blue and yellow blur at the periphery of your vision.
A split second later, two strong, callused hands softly cupped your cheeks and you tried to focus on the two worried brown eyes staring at you. It took three long seconds for you to piece it back together—pretty in blue, perfectly winged eyeliner and the hand that held your own when he dragged you from mall to mall—your best friend was here.
You smiled brightly, though you weren't sure if your numbing body had followed the motion since Kise's brows furrowed further.
"Ryōta!" you chimed, your own voice sounding far away. "Is the match over?"
"It's still half-time. They're cleaning your blood off the court."
"Oh," you muttered, nodding in understanding, the movement sending pain flaring through your nerves, kind of bumped out Kise hadn't won yet, because then you would have headed out for celebratory drinks, and you knew you had to talk to him about something, but what? You were sure you had planned to talk…
You heard Kise calling out your name, and the edge of panic to his voice made you realise you’d been zoning out.
"Are you okay?"
As you tried to focus on his gaze and the feeling of his fingers on your cheeks, you caught sight of your squadmate beckoning your coach over.
"I'm perfectly fine," you beamed as you started falling over, the siren of the ambulance blaring painfully in your brain even from behind the stadium glass gates, blue and red lights flashing on your face, and your vision went black.
************************************************************************
Kise could barely focus on the rest of the match.
Of course, it didn't mean he threw it. He blazed across the court in his usual, miracle-curb-stomping-mortals fashion, but he was off, half out of it. Even though the team they were facing was nowhere near a threat to Kaijō, he knew Kasamatsu wouldn't have hesitated to drop kick him into next year were it not for the too-shiny spot near the half court line where you bled out. Okay, maybe there was no need to be dramatic about it but you'd been whisked away by an ambulance and even the cheer coach, who didn't blink at splintered shins and broken arms, had looked worried. Head injuries could be lethal in this sport. You weren't paralyzed or anything, but he remembered the dried blood near your hairline and your unfocused eyes, glazed over with pain and what was probably the beginning of a concussion.
After the game, he put his clothes back on in autopilot mode, wordlessly letting know Coach Takeuchi he was going straight to the hospital and not getting on the team bus.
The receptionist looked at him with downright unwarranted distrust when he told her he was waiting for you, and that you’d suffered a head injury.
“Let me guess: she fell down the stairs?”
Kise didn’t even know what to say to that, mind coming up blank with worry, and so simply went to sit between a sniffling child and a man who seemed fine despite the axe planted in his head. He belatedly remembered to text his manager he was not coming to the shoot after all.
His chest deflated with relief when he saw your coach step back out in the waiting room, with you right behind her, bandages hiding under your bangs. He sprung up, ignoring the eyes of the receptionist burning holes in his back, and waited until your coach had left you near your house before talking to you. The blood trickling from your forehead where you’d split skin had been spectacular but harmless, as you’d only suffered from a little head trauma. The hematoma would disappear in three weeks all on its own. His throat felt choked up with relief and all the unnamed emotions he’d let simmer during all those years.
You arrived in front of your apartment complex, street lights falling on the street walk, splashes of light on the dark pavement. Silence blanketed you while you were trying to muster the courage to talk.
At the same time, you both said:
“I’m sorry.”
Kise blinked. Sorry? About what? What even—why couldn’t he even apologize properly—
“I wasn’t there for you,” you said, feeling your eyelashes brush against your bandages. “I should have tried to help you instead of watching it happen.”
“What—no, no! I—”
Come on, get your shit together, Ryōta.
“I was avoiding you,” he finally admitted. “Because… I can’t be friends with you anymore.”
You were stunned into silence, coming to a halt before the steps leading to the entrance of the apartment complex. For a second, you convinced yourself you’d misheard. That you’d actually suffered a concussion and were hallucinating this whole part. That this wasn’t happening.
“It’s not because I don’t like you!” He scrambled to save the throw, trying to get all his thoughts out faster upon seeing the way you’d reacted. “It’s because I like you…too much.”
Kise bit on his tongue. He was messing this up. He was messing this up so badly. He felt so stupid, where was his casual flirtiness when he needed it, you would never talk to him again—
You silently hugged him tight, something you hadn’t done since middle school, and the air flew out of his lungs like you’d just punched him.
Humiliating tears pricked his eyes and he closed his arms around you, burying his nose in your hair, your game-day shampoo’s scent wrapping around him, and he found the strength to say, so quietly you could have not heard it: “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Stupid, stupid you to worry about him when you literally split your head open. But it was true, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to be dragged to practice, you’d timidly gone back to hanging out together more often, and he found that he actually liked those Kaijō lunatics (though he still did not appreciate Kasamatsu’s cage fight skills).
“See you tomorrow?”
Kise reluctantly let you out of his arms, and nodded, heart swelling with relief. Relief, relief, relief. You still wanted to talk to him.
“See you tomorrow.”
You turned, but halted, one foot still lifted over the first step. Did your heart hurt? Did he need to call your parents? His hand went fishing for his phone in his pocket, set on dialling your mom’s number, but he went still when you turned again and took one step closer to him, your hand gripping his jacket, and he mindlessly bent down, eyes widening as you got closer and closer until your lips pressed against his.
Every coherent thought disappeared as his brain turned to mush, and he let out an undignified noise as your tongue anxiously, timidly slipped into his mouth. He’d become the embodiment of non-resistance, hands cupping your face as a wave of heat washed over him.
Then, as quickly as you’d started, you stopped and took a step back.
Kise distantly thought he was probably as red as Kagami’s hair, brain rewiring to produce full sentences again.
“See you tomorrow,” you said, with finality this time, smiling softly.
He nodded, watching you go inside.
He’d see you tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day after that, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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I have a headcanon that when the Teiko gang is older, Akashi gets tired of seeing Aomine and Momoi being oblivious to the relationship they have with each other, so he conspires with the other GoM + Kuroko to get them together and it works.
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knb headcanons bc i miss them:(
idc if these are ooc. they are 100% factual in my head
Takao is a kpop stan - he edits them and everything. Tetsuya would also have an editing account/fanpage and they'd be online friends... Then one time, Takao sends a voice note and Tetsuya EXPLODES
i also think Aomine would know what kpop is but only bc Satsuki likes it.
Midorima is an avid reddit user. Yeah
Aomine's phone passcode is his birthday. Everyone knows
I feel like Tetsuya would have tiktok... i just KNOW Taiga is tired of having his inbox fludded with Tetsu sending him tiktoks 24/7. Does he ever sleep??
Aomine likes cats but he is allergic… not that that's ever stopped him before
KISE IS THE TYPE TO change his pfp to black at every minor inconvenience. he leaves the gc for dramatic effect AND NO ONE ADDS HIM BACK LMFAODOOF
I feel like Kise takes forever in the bathroom. Like… he has the whole Vogue Beauty Secrets thing going on. Anyone that has ever slept over was either too annoyed or concerned to say anything.
Midorima records and posts all the fails and Ls that the boys take. If there is an embarassing video circling around their group, he sent it.
I think they'd have a discord server and it was Mura's idea bc i feel like he's a gamer and this was the only way to get him to actively check the messages. There is, in fact, a channel just for Midorima to send blackmail material of the others - often used for people's birthdays or when in need to humble them.
When Kasamatsu finds out of this channel he is ecstatic, considering most of it is Kise (and Aomine).
Kise auditioned for dramas when he was in middle school. I know the tapes are somewhere… maybe the boys can find them….
Tetsuya and Taiga could be roomates ok. Except Tetsu would complain about Taiga to the GoM - suddenly Taiga is EVERYONE'S roomate… they know every little detail
Tetsuya's love language is gift giving. He bakes for the boys :) anything chocolate flavour and Youre Exiting the Premises
Murasakibara knows a suspicious amount of info on reality TV. He can make a good Davide impression.
Finally, I think that Akashi is not as aloof or oblivious as he seems. I know he is the FUNNIEST one of them. I can imagine a situation where theyre hanging in public and someone who knows the GoM walks by, seeing them bent over with laughter, and being so CONFUSED? BC what could possibly cause that?? little to they know it was Seijuro.
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Imagine: you are invited to a formal wedding 💒 Who's your partner?
My fave here is my brother Kise,he looks faboulous, he has such a nice attitude. Sei (this guy is born suited!) and Midorima. Pretty demon is cool but he always looks a bit unease. #sorryD
I miss Takao here, he'd look amazing too😸
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REMINDER
This is a multifandom blog !
Kindly send me some other fandoms to write about too!!!
The list of fandoms is here.
Much love
- supa O
I want knb requestsss
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Hey, I have an AO3! + Updates
I just posted my first story there. It was the first ask I ever answered here!
I intend on posting the imagines and scenarios requested here over there as well so, if you'd like, please consider checking it out and leaving some comments! I'll make sure to post here as well when a new story is up.
The link is: Stargazing - JSchiatti - Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball [Archive of Our Own]
Oh, also, I'm working on a request as of right now. It was with two characters: Aomine and Akashi. Aomine's part is done and Akashi is basilly all finished. I hope to post it soon!
Feel free to send in more requests if you'd like!
Have a nice day!
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if you ask murasakibara to buy pads for you for the first time, he wouldn't really mind. he visits the convenience store 24/7 for snacks anyways.
but i know he would (accidentally) come back with a huge pack of adult diapers in his hands.
for 10 seconds he stood in front of the pad section contemplating which would be the best, and chose the biggest option with confidence.
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I still read them... Knb new contents are so few 😭 it's just not my comfo- or favs one when akashi is described with everything fancy elegant rich things.. i mean i get it that's absolutely true or it can be true but sometimes we need some realness. Sometimes i think all of the hc's of him is kinda over like yes he is rich but he still a boy, atleast make him a bit more at the same level as the other boys. I mean they're under the same school, they join the same national cup.
Kise .. kinda wanna know his other side that's absolutely not always 24/7 being a golden sun boys. He often (always in hc) described as an obsessed with himself boy, which is MAY BE true but we already know that. I myself want to know how these boys react or act that i can't imagine how he will be.
Next is aomine and kagami, aomine is always described as a sex maniac which is MAYBE TRUE bcs he's obsessed with porn magz but damnnnn what if what if those magz were just the way he make an image for himself bcz he's being called a monster so in order to make it more true than he just tryna become the one eventho he's actually just a mom's boy. When exactly did he start to openly bring those porn magz pls i confused my self. Just realized that i don't really understand even aomine my favorite one that i always rewatch his part in anime hundreds time
And for kagami, by far i love most of his hc. I almost always read him described as an awkward person. Or that's just what i remember about his hc.
Whatever that's all just my opinion, i really thankful for all of you that still writes for knb 💗🥲 i actually glad they didn't get overhyped by some news stan that actually for me kinda anoying I'm sorry i really tried to not feel annoyed but i can't help with that.
Hail knb 💗
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Monster should have been an OT13 song, the title track, I dare say.
I want whole svt to go NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NAA.
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)
word count: 5.3k
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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.
“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.
“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.
Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.
“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”
There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.
“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.
Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.
Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.
“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.
You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.
“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.
Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.
What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.
Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.
‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.
“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.
He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.
“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.
“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.
You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.
“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.
“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”
Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.
“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.
Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.
The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.
“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.
“As they have been taught, your reverence.”
In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.
Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.
“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”
For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.
“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.
“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.
“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.
“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.
“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.
“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.
“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.
Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.
“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.
Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.
“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”
You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.
“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.
“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.
It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.
“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.
It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.
You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”
The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.
“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”
The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.
“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.
Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.
“To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”
Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.
It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?
Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.
“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.
Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.
Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.
“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.
He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.
Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.
“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.
Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.
“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”
Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.
“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.
You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.
But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.
“Soon.”
You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.
You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.
You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.
He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.
The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.
You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.
You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.
“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.
Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.
But god, you wanted to live.
Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.
‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.
As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.
You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.
“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.
Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.
Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.
He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.
He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.
You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.
“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”
You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.
“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.
Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.
The two of you were communicating.
“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”
His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.
It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.
In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.
Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.
He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.
You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.
You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”
You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.
“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.
“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.
Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.
His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.
“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.
You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.
You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.
“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.
This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.
“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”
“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.
“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.
“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”
It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.
“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.
“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”
Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.
“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”
“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.
A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.
This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.
“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.
The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.
“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.
The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.
Animal, indeed.
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!
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Hey can I get a Knb head cannons with the GOM and Kagami along with Kyoshi Teppei with like a 4’10 girlfriend (idk I feel like it would be funny especially with Murasakibara) I hope you like this idea my first time requesting here
Heyyy hun 💕 ofc I'm gonna write hcs on this because ik it's gonna be hilarious 😭 thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it <333
HEY THERE, LITTLE THING // KNB Headcanons
Context: how these KNB characters would behave with their short girlfriend (4"10 or 148 cm).
Pairing: GOM + Kagami + Kiyoshi x fem! Reader
Warnings: none I kept it sfw lol, making fun of short people a bit but I promise I love y'all like that <3
AKASHI
Doesn't really bother him to be honest
He's not the tallest himself, pretty average in size, in fact, so it'd be ironic if he had an issue with it
Probably the only person who never calls you cute because of your size
No, my dude is a proper gentleman so he never calls anyone cute, let alone his girlfriend
To him you'll always be "gorgeous", "beautiful" or at the very least "pretty"
Likes that, due to the size difference, your face falls right in his chest when you hug
He loves that you can hear his heartbeat that way <3
If you like heels, he buys them for you without you asking
Not because he wants you to be taller, but just because he enjoys seeing his girl being all pretty and happy
Yeah, really the most lowkey of all about your size
MIDORIMA
Before you guys started dating, he made some maths
He calculated how the size difference would affect you in almost all situations
Yes, he has to bend almost all the way down to kiss you, and yes, you guys look a bit funny when walking together in public
But despite all the "inconveniences", he loves you too much to care about the practicality of it all
Takao definitely makes fun of him for finding a girlfriend almost half his size
But Takao is also slightly scared of you so he eventually tones down on the jokes
Midorima does get pissed at him sometimes for that but he stays civil about it
At the end of the day, he loves you so something like size shouldn't matter
He even grows to appreciate the size difference quite a bit
It makes him feel like a proper boyfriend, one that can protect you if need be
Loves to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, even if your entire hand fits in his palm <3
AOMINE
Omg such an asshole about it I'm sorry 😭
Calls you his "pocket size girlfriend"
Loves calling you "shorty" just because it pisses you off
Actually lifts you up randomly in the middle of your fights just so you know that he's a titan next to you
The kind to rest his elbow on your head when standing next to you
Makes jokes about how you're closer to his dick than his face when you're standing
He's so annoying but I PROMISE he actually loves you
His favourite thing about having a short girl as his girlfriend is that he can look over you all the time
Becomes your bodyguard, even though you don't need one
Will physically fight anyone that makes fun of your size (only he is allowed to do so)
Offers you free rides on his shoulders just so, I quote, "you can see how it looks like up there for once"
KISE
Kise is a firm believer that all women are beautiful, no matter their height or size so he just loves his girlfriend, despite the drastic size difference
Does call you cute and adorable often but he can't help it!!
Lifts you up everytime you kiss, so you don't have to break your neck trying to reach him and he doesn't have to bend too much either
Offers to be the small spoon from time to time because "you deserve to feel big sometimes"
Don't ask, he's just persuaded that you have the secret desire to be a giant
Tells everyone he knows that you have the most grandiose presence despite your height
Kinda awkward about the size difference but it's all out of love, I promise!
MURASAKIBARA
Didn't notice you for a while, till he once accidently bumped into you
He was so intrigued and amused by you
Found it so funny that you'd bump into each other, considering that he was the tallest person in the area and you were the shortest
He literally lifted you up just so he could see you from up close
You were so flabbergasted by him doing that that you had no idea if you should be offended or not 💀
Kinda confused about how he fell for someone who is half his size but he doesn't bother thinking more about it
Loves giving you head pats!! Your head fits entirely in his hand, he's amazed by that
Sometimes puts snacks on top of your head like you're a table
It's annoying but he finds it convenient so he won't stop
Lifts you up randomly with one arm (like you'd lift up a cat) and carries you around just for fun
Also because one of his steps is like 2-3 of yours, so that way he doesn't have to wait for you to catch up when you walk together
KAGAMI
Aaaaah... my precious, precious Taiga is literally so scared to be around you
He feels like he's gonna accidentally trip on you at all times
(because he did once, actually 😭)
Extra cautious around you because of that
Sometimes doesn't notice you when you're next to him
Not because you have no presence, but simply because his vision field is limited
He's eventually learned to recognize the top of your head so now he can identify you anywhere just by that
Asked once if you'd have any chance of growing up if you ate more, and was ready to cook a whole feast for you if it helped you get a few inches in height
You had to tell him that's not how it worked
Despite all his awkwardness, he kinda loves having a short girlfriend
He likes how his hands are naturally at the level of your waist so now he only walks with his hand on your waist
Doesn't notice the looks your couple gets in public and he wouldn't care about it if he did, unless you cared
Then he'd probably send death glares to anyone looking at you funny
Just sweet overall, you know? Doesn't mind your height at some point, he just gets used to it
OH and he definitely always gets the stuff on the highest shelf for you without you even asking <3
KIYOSHI
"Oh, you're pretty short, aren't you?"
That's what he told you when you first met
He doesn't mind the size difference that much though
He never really says a thing or acts differently because of your height
But sometimes that's an issue
Since you're smaller, you're more likely to get smothered by his hugs
Almost sent your body flying once from a simple high-five 💀
Talking of which! His hands are probably the same size as your feet, if not bigger
Actually, most of the time you're the one mindful of the size different
You have to remind him of it when he seems to forget about it
Is the kind to lift you up and put you down after if there's an obstacle on your road, instead of telling you to be careful
Likes to gently rest his hand on your head
Because of the size difference, it's sometimes more convenient for him to kiss your forehead than your lips so expect lots of forehead kisses!!
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Veil of Deception (I)
SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness.
As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.
WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play
Word Count: 3.5k
PART 2
Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.
As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.
Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.
Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.
Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.
Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.
Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.
The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.
You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.
Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.
For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.
Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.
Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.
And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.
In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.
“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”
His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.
“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”
Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.
You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.
As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.
Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.
As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.
Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.
But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.
“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”
The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.
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As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.
The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.
Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.
At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.
You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.
The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.
At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.
You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.
As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.
As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.
Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.
With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.
The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.
The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.
The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.
Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer.
Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.
As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.
And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.
He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.
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As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.
You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.
You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.
As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.
He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.
A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.
The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.
A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.
Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.
“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”
Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.
He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.
“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”
“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”
With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.
“Lie down.” he commanded.
Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.
However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.
Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.
“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”
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The Little Death — 2. A dream of life
— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.
— WARNINGS: a bit of voyeurism
— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k
— TAGLIST: @elf-punk
The best art imitates life in a compelling way. If it imitates a dream, it must be a dream of life.
— Darwi Odrade
She confessed with regret that she did not, in fact, have one of those pain boxes. A Gom Jabbar was available in the palace and in fact was in the Harkonnen's possession as far as she knew, but that was just a poisoned needle tipped with meta-cyanide. What he was after was the… active part of the humanity test. That was only at the disposal of those sisters qualified to carry it out.
She was certain Feyd would do away with her once she explained how and why she didn’t have what he was after and prepared herself internally for death. But it never came. He paused in thought and nodded, and his cool eyes moved away from her with a shadow of sadness to them. Then he turned around, his broad shoulders clad in black exposed to her, and walked toward the table.
“You will come with me.”
He picked up a shigawire reel and shoved it in a compartment of his suit, a small pocket at the side of his chest, then walked right by her on his way out of the room. She followed obediently.
The palace was quiet, free of the usual fuss that filled it during the day — servants scrambling, scraping like traumatised automatons just trying to survive — but as they walked past the way she came she heard a violent sound from the direction where her old room was. They’re destroying my things, she realised.
Her eyes turned to Feyd-Rautha’s back once more, the smooth black of his clothes and white of his skin, and she wondered what plans he had for her. Would he be more subtle with his killing than his brother was, or… more creative? Would she be able to use the stunning word and paralyse him in time to get away? Would she have to kill him instead?
“Am I going too fast for you?” he asked over his shoulder. It was not an honest question, as she could tell from the smile in his voice.
“No?”
“Funny. I can hear you breathing.”
She bit her lip and glared at the back of his head.
They passed from the most shadowed places of the palace into the well-lit ones where snow-white lamps hung in the air. There were more guards in this area too, and she gradually realised they weren’t going to the prisons. They were going to his quarters.
“After you,” he said, stopping in front of a jaundiced pair of double doors guarded on each side by armed guards as still as statues.
She looked up at him warily as she stepped forward. He was still smiling in that cocky, boyish way, but something was incongruent. His awkward pose — not quite facing her, not quite to the side — the bent of his back as if he tried to make himself seem shorter, his arms somewhat aimless at his sides… He was trying to be polite and he didn’t know how.
She stepped inside. His room was nothing like what she imagined. The natural pale yellow of the Arrakeen stone gave it a softness that was at odds with the black linens on the massive bed. Moonlight streamed from the twin window slits on the opposite wall, and on the smooth tables lay an array of little boxes, pots, and cases left half-opened. There was a scent of ink there that cut through the modest smell of disinfectant. He’d only just moved in… He hadn’t had a chance to make the place his own yet.
As she analysed these new surroundings, Feyd stepped in and the doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. The palace seemed all the more distant now.
“My lord na-Baron?”
“Hm?” he muttered as he walked right past her, going to place something inside a drawer by the bed — the shigawire reel.
“W-what… what would you have me do?”
“You can do whatever you like.”
Her eyes slid toward the door. “Can I leave?”
She didn’t expect him to say ‘yes’, but she expected even less what he said next.
“Leave?” he chuckled, looking at her over his shoulder. “Where would you go? You’re my Bene Gesserit now.”
And he continued preparing himself for the night as if it was the most normal of circumstances. A part of her, the most human part, felt offended, but from the periphery of her mind, her training whispered to her what was really going on.
Feyd-Rautha kept his back turned and his attention on the objects in his possession — diskettes of reports he sorted for later reading, the daggers at his belt, the signet ring around his finger — and he spoke to her most dismissively and distantly. He was treating her like a stray cat he had just found and brought into his bedroom. Now he was letting her explore her new home, but he still did not dare to look at her directly, to watch her as openly as he desired. In his every move, however casual, there was nervous self-awareness. Completely opposite to how confident he’d been before he met her.
She’d served the Fenrings before, and the Atreides after them, but until now she had never quite felt owned. Still, if it was a kitten the Harkonnen wanted, that was what she would provide.
Without addressing him, she stepped sideways and turned, letting her posture loosen. Her head tilted back in a light stretch to relieve the tension of expecting death. She moved in a wide arch, slow steps, small sounds, while her fingers traced the surface of the wall for no reason in particular, just to absorb its texture.
“Why do you want me?” she asked in a low and silky voice. Seduction seldom failed with arrogant young men.
“I told you,” answered Feyd rather too quickly, his head bowed as he pretended to clean one of his blades.
“You’ve never had a Bene Gesserit of your own…”
“And it’s about time to have one.”
“Would the Baron approve?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally looking up at her. He smiled at the sight of her slinking across the room, dark dress trailing behind her. “Things can change, even in House Harkonnen.”
She paused mid-step to smile back at him. “Changes awaken something in us…”
He gave a noncommital hum and started walking to her, his head tilted in a thoughtful way.
“What sort of things do they teach you?” he asked. “At your… Bene Gesserit school?”
“Many things,” she said with an inviting tone. “Control of the self, the mind, the body… Understanding of history. Political strategy.”
Feyd came to a stop before her, a trepidation into his step. He walked until he cornered her in a darkened divot of the room. Standing a full head taller, he looked down into her eyes.
“What do you want to know?” she whispered.
He frowned, that strange smooth brow ridge wrinkling quite innocently, and his eyes betrayed transparent thoughts. He didn’t know what he wanted to know, but he knew he wanted something.
“What does… a Bene Gesserit do?”
“That depends on what our master wishes.”
“But what do you usually do?”
“We teach. We advise. When asked, we serve.”
“Did Paul Atreides have one?”
“Yes. His mother, Lady Jessica.”
The hints of jealousy were faint. There wasn’t much to envy in the dead… But he looked at her with that strange look in his eyes again, that speck of a little boy lost, and something in her instinctively wanted to cup his cheek, to pet him, and hold him close. She did not doubt that something inside of him wanted it too, and her body was just responding to the subconscious observation.
“Can you kill?” he asked.
“If I have to.”
“And have you?”
“Not yet.”
“In that way, I’m better than you, Bene Gesserit,” he chuckled.
And suddenly, his hand came up to grip the back of her neck. She was startled by how quick the movement was, how his body gave no tells that he would make it. A true predator. He pulled her closer, strong fingers tightening against her nape, pressing her against him. Beneath his armour, the plates of his body were strong. Every feminine part of her responded with a cascade of lust — not at the hidden hint of beauty but at the symbol of his pride. He wasn’t just a pampered princeling living through his allotted years of beauty. He brought his body to the peak of its potential. The motion pulled the veil off her head, and his eyes went to her soft mane of hair. His grip stayed firm, but his gaze traversed this new part of her as if it were a landscape, with hills and dales and quiet streams, all flowing down.
“Na-Baron,” she whispered, hand coming up to grip his wrist.
“Shut up,” he said, blue eyes still focused on her hair. “Go to sleep.” And then he let her go.
He turned from her and walked away with the energy of someone ready to run off — but there was nowhere for him to go, and his steps slowed. She watched him as she rubbed the sore back of her neck, watched how his head bowed for a moment as if he’d just woken up, how he walked toward the large square bed, how he started taking his clothes off…
He was a strange sight indeed. A broken psyche that reflected the duality present in his features — cold and frightful, soft and gentle, brutal but not so much from the absence of affection as from the presence of cruelty on top.
“Where shall I sleep?”
“Hm? Oh…” He looked around as if only just considering that fact. “Whenever you like,” he said, giving up quickly on thinking about it. “But here, in this room. You don’t get out of my sight, little witch. Not until I decide I can trust you.”
He pulled the layers of clothes off. First the armour on his back and shoulders, then the belt around his hips, and the second skin of the black suit that hugged his body.
“And… what shall I wear to bed?”
He paused and turned to look at her. His chest was as white as his face, but strong and chiselled, far less delicate. It shone with the sweat of a long day beneath the yellow light.
“Wear?” he rasped, his lips twisted in a quizzical smile. “Why should you wear anything?”
She settled for sleeping in a chair in a corner of the room. Feyd had gone to sleep completely naked, and he’d not been shy of parading his body around. She watched without fear, without shame, taking note of all the ways his muscles worked, the stretch and give of the skin, the scent of sweat, of blood.
Noting how much he seemed to like her hair, she did not cover it again, and after he fell asleep she quietly took the top layer of her clothing off. The Harkonnens were used to having their servants quite exposed, but she was not about to give him cause to think that that was what she was. If she wanted to survive, she had to walk the tightrope of perception. She had to be above him, as well as below. A knowledgeable Bene Gesserit sister, with all the guileless charm of a kitten.
She remained in her shift, a long grey piece held up by two thin straps, and used her dress as a blanket. She did now sleep but instead pretended to as she entered a state of Prajna meditation.
The secret pathways out of the room became known to her, faint currents invisible to the conscious mind. A spy hole existed in the western wall, covered on both sides by thin material. To the north, a doorway with no handle led into another room. Beyond it, sounds of restless sleeping. Three figures — feminine? Outside, the guards stood watch, but one was close to sleeping.
She was almost at the point where exhaustion caught up with her too, and like a slow receding wave her meditation ended. Her body lay relaxed and limp, head resting on her shoulder, hands folded. But with the last thread of her extended senses, she caught the taste of struggle in the room. Rapid heartbeat, frantic breathing, shifting eyes behind closed lids. Feyd-Rautha was dreaming.
Soundlessly, she slid off the chair and left her dress on it. The floor beneath her naked feet was cold as ice, it made her want to shiver, but she maintained control of every muscle as she walked toward the bed. Feyd’s body was twisted in the silken sheets, twitching, tense. Jolts disturbed his restful state as if in his mind he tried to get away from something. She could almost see the phantom trace of touches on his skin.
He slept on his front, arms thrown above his head, legs spread. His tossing made the sheets slip off his back to reveal a taut, tense expanse that ended in soft cheeks. Beneath them, the faintest hint of hairless, purpling swells and a limp length. He was so vulnerable…
As she got closer, she could hear him mutter words in a foreign language. Was that what they spoke on Giedi Prime? She could make out influences of galactic language all the way to those of the old Earth, but it was just enough to only guess what he was saying. The tone, nevertheless, was clear. He’s afraid, she thought.
She crouched at the edge of the bed where his naked foot hung off the side, her brow crested with worry. He was dangerous, she dared not touch him, and however much she wanted to wake him as a simple human kindness she wanted even more to see where his nightmares led.
With a long and frightful wail muffled by the pillows, Feyd dragged his strong beautiful body upwards, curling like a snake. He pulled his knees up to his chest and started shaking. Every now and then, his foot would kick. The sign of running in a dream. The whiteness of his body, pure and pale as chalk, the hairlessness of even his masculine parts, it made him look so fragile, so defenceless. A fascinating specimen. To think, the step just before the Kwisatz Haderach would look like that...
She let her body fall down to the floor and propped herself against the mattress, her cheek upon the bed. And she watched him, following the shadow of his dreams, for as long as the night went.
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Hii! Can you make a Murasakibara x reader . Murasakibara calls his s/o by a cute nickname after his basketball practice is over and his s/o came to see if his practice is over so they both can go home together after school + the reaction of GOM when they get to know murasakibara is dating someone.? Bye, have a great day /night!
Hi anon ! Thank you so much, and this is really cute, thanks for the mental picture <33
Reading you guys' KnB imagines always makes my day, so please continue to send em in !
When his friends find out you're dating
Murasakibara x gn reader
(AU in which the GOM remain teammates after middle school)
@neoo you might like this one
You took your phone out of your bag to check the time as you walked towards the school gym. If you remembered correctly, Atsushi's basketball practice should have ended around five minutes ago. It was the last practice session of a very busy season, so he'd promised to take you out as soon as it was finished. When you asked where, he said it was a surprise and that he'd take you there after practice. The more you thought about spending the evening with your beloved boyfriend after a few weeks of barely seeing him outside of school, the giddier you felt. When you finally reached the gym and pushed the door open, you saw Atsushi talking with the other members of the generation of miracles as they walked out of the changing room. Even though most members of the generation of miracles were pretty tall, Murasakibara still managed to tower over them. He'd changed out of his basketball kit and into a loose fitting black shirt with short sleeves and grey sweatpants. His hair was also up- he knew that was a weakness of yours. You didn't mind that he dressed more casually- in fact, as you checked out his long, toned arms, you realised how much you liked it. As soon as Murasakibara saw you standing and starin at the door, he smiled slightly and walked over to you.
"Hey baby, you ready to leave after this ?" You opened your mouth to answer but Kuroko beat you to it.
"What ? Murasakibara and Y/N ? Why didn't anybody tell me ?" You tried not to laugh at the look of utter shock on his face as his eyes darted between you and Atsushi. Aomine cut in, frowning
"Yeah ! And why does he get to date someone that hot ? Y/N, if you ever grow bored of this dry ass man then you know where to find-" This time, it was Atsushi who cut Aomine off by shoving him in the opposite direction to you.
"Over my dead body," he said, glaring at Aomine. The latter simply smirked and raised his eyebrows
"Control yourself, Aomine. Anyway, you're all just idiots. This has been rather obvious for a few weeks now. Whenever Murasakibara has free time, he spends it with Y/N, and he always takes every opportunity to text them during practice. Akashi has noticed it too. While I normally wouldn't condone dating within a friendship group, their signs are perfectly matched," Midorima explained, a triumphant look on his face, while Akashi stood there silently. You hadn't expected much of a reaction from him, because you realised on some level he'd always known, and had given you and Atsushi small windows of time in which you could meet and talk all throughout the last basketball season. When you'd thanked him for all his help, he'd just nodded and smiled slightly.
You listened and tried to hold in your laughter as Aomine and Midorima began to squabble over his remark. These guys were idiots, but they were your idiots. They'd been your best friends since middle school and you were glad that you finally had the opportunity to share this with them. Kise finally broke the spat, smiling in your direction as he spoke.
"Yeah, you guys really weren't as discreet as you thought. I mean, Murasakibaracchi literally has a picture of you in his basketball jersey as his phone lockscreen. Anyway, though I agree with Aominecchi that this is slightly unfair, I wish you two all the best. You look really cute together, as well as being well matched,"
"Yeah," Kuroko agreed, smiling at you as you blushed.
"Aww guys... thank you so much ! We would have told you earlier, but we were afraid it would change things between the group,"
"Nah. No matter what happens, we'll stick together. We've made it this far, right ?" Aomine replied, and the others nodded in agreement. Atsushi put an arm around your waist and looked at the guys.
"Now that you know, I'd appreciate it if you stopped wasting our time. I'm taking Y/N on a date tonight. Also, keep your hands to yourselves. Y/N is mine," he said, glaring at Aomine and Kise. You smiled up at him, your heart beating faster as he revealed this new possessive side to his nature. He squeezed you a little before hoisting you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.
"Wha- Atsushi ! What do you think you're doing ?" you asked, squirming in his grasp playfully.
"We'll get there faster like this,". He tightened his grip around you and you let yourself relax, breathing in his warm scent as he carried you out of the gym.
"Bye guys !" you said, smiling as Atsushi carried you out. The others smiled back at you, waving as they watched you and Atsushi leave the gym.
As soon as you'd left, Kuroko opened his mouth again
"So that's why Murasakibara was asking about where the rose garden was,"
Kise facepalmed and laughed a little
"Yes, it was. He wanted to surpris them with a truly romantic spot. God, you really are dense at times, Kurokocchi,"
Masterlist
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Hi! I'm so glad to see your open askbox! I'd like to request a headcanon for KnB! How would GOM + Kagami react when their s/o walk in on them taking a shower naked and just casually invite themselves taking a shower with the boys? Thank you for taking my request and I hope you have a great week!
GoM + Kagami - s/o shower time
Akashi
Akashi sighed as the warm water hit his body. His shoulder relaxing in one of the few moments he had to himself. He wanted to get a quick shower before he went to go meet his father for dinner. Their monthly ritual now that he had moved out of the house.
He had just turned around to rinse his back went he heard one of the glass double doors open and [Y/N] standing there. “Mind if I join you?”
They must have known that he was tense about meeting his father; not hard to guess as he usually was. They had tried to be cheerful when he got home. Tried to be supportive. Tried to give him some space. Finally, when none of that seemed to work, they seemed to be going with base physical pleasure as a distraction.
“Of course. You’re always welcome my love.”
They smile and step into the double headed shower with Akashi. Then quickly into his arms. He was certainly more relaxed than usual meeting his father today. Maybe a ‘hot shower’ was called for every month now.
Aomine
‘Shit!’ Aomine cursed to himself as he jumped into his cold shower and instantly started soaping down.
Why did he always have to play Russian roulette with his alarm? He always had to push it too close for those extra few minutes and then here they were. Late. Too late to even let his shower heat up and try to keep the soap out of his eyes.
“Mind if I join you?”
Aomine looked up and over his shoulder to his s/o standing there. Nothing on but their smile. His morning wood that was coming down from the cold shower up to full mast again.
“Sure.” He replied with an equal grin before he pulled them into the shower. Hell he was already late. No point in rushing now.
Kise
Kise hummed to the music still playing in his head from the photoshoot. Still buzzing from all the energy.
It was different than when he played basketball, but still got him hyped. Everyone running around. The intensity to get the perfect shot. Quick changes for costumes. It was all a blur sometimes, but he must have done a good job because the photo director thanked him for his hard work.
He had just gotten home and wanted to take a quick shower before bed. Making sure to get the last of the makeup and hair products off before he slipped into clean sheets.
He was just about to step in when he heard the door open and turned around. “Mind if I join?” [Y/N] asked with a cheeky grin. Apparently having waited up for him, unlike he imagined.
“Sure!” Kise replied enthusiastically before moving aside to let them in first. “I missed you.” He told them once they were both under the water. Kissing them sweetly as rivulets trickled down their bodies.
Kuroko
It was usually pretty easy for Kuroko to sneak out of the bed and into the shower. Given that his presence was low, as long as he and s/o weren’t actively spooning or snuggled up Kuroko could slip out without waking them.
He had just finished up showering when he heard the door open and [Y/N] ask, “mind if I join you?” just as he was turning off the water.
They seemed a little crestfallen that they had missed their chance, so Kuroko reached behind him and turned the water back on. “I think I missed a spot. Wanna help me get it?”
Midorima
5:15 – wake up. morning ablutions.
5:45 – jog
6:30 – rehydrate and start coffee for the morning
6:45 - shower
Midorima had a very set way he liked to get ready for the morning. Following a routine led to increased performance through practice. A mentality he had always had about nearly all aspects of his life.
He was just about to wash his hair, at precisely 6:50 like usual, when he heard the bathroom door open. He knew it had to be [Y/N]. No one else was in the apartment. It wasn’t unheard of that they would be up at this time and was not usually a disturbance to his schedule, so it didn’t bother him. Usually.
“Mind if I join you?”
Midorima wiped around when he heard their voice in the shower. Naked, he assumed. He didn’t have his glasses on so it was hard to see. But the implication was quite clear.
“I uh…I have to get breakfast started.”
His logic didn’t seem to stop them, however, as they still invited themselves into his shower with some pretense about efficiency and better use of time, and all that. He didn’t argue, but it was certainly a disruption to his schedule.
Murasakibara
The alarm by his bed chirped cheerfully to the sound of his current favorite anime, before Murasakibara’s fist came down and pounded it into silence.
He wasn’t a morning person. He was barely a daytime at all kind of person. Kuro-chin had suggested using a song that sparked happy memories to wake up to as a way to be more excited about getting up, but, of course, it had failed.
Sitting up with a big, bear of a yawn, Murasakibara got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to get ready. He brushed his teeth while he waited for the shower to heat up, and debated about going back to bed. Stepping into the shower he stood under the water motionless for a while before he heard the curtain pull back.
“Mind if I join you?”
His normal, dull expression perked up as he saw [Y/N]-chin standing there. Suddenly not so sleepy anymore. “Sure.” Murasakibara tried to move and make space for them with his large frame. Hard to manage but they made it work.
This was a much better way to wake up in the morning. He’d have to tell Kuro-chin that this was a much better plan than stupid alarms.
+Kagami
“I’m gonna take a shower.” Kagami announced as he and s/o finished up their movie for the night and prepared for bed.
He’d always taken a shower before bed, even before coming to Japan. It was hit or miss in the states on if people did or didn’t, and maybe it was his parents Japanese background that led to their custom in their house, but he always did it. It just made sense to him. Getting all the germs & dirt of the day off. Kagami was sort of a neat freak on the inside, cultivated from having to keep his own place clean for years.
Halfway through his shower, Kagami looked up when he heard the door open. Thinking he would see [Y/N] in their pjs getting ready to brush their teeth for bed through the glass, but instead seeing them naked.
“Mind if I join you?”
Kagami could feel his face flush from more than just the hot water. His hands instinctively moving to cover himself, despite the half frosted modest glass already in place. Feeling very exposed. “I uh…I…”
[Y/N] seemed to take his hesitation as a time to be bold and opened the door. They had been together for a while, and had been intimate, just not in the shower. It was a secret fantasy that everyone had, that his mind was having trouble processing on was actually about to come true.
“Are you sure this is safe? I don’t want you to slip and crack your head open.”
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