#tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

Choose Me Again

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

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

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

You, like he, were a rare sight.

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

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

"Hi."

"Hello."

Polite smiles were exchanged.

"I haven't seen you around here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve been watching?”

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

“I like observing people.”

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

“Akashi Seijuro, hmmm.”

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

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

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

That was his notion until you spoke again.

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

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

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

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

How would you draw him?

Curious, he asked you.

“I don't know.”

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

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

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

~ O ~

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

“Do you know how to play?”

A shrug. “Just a little.”

You smiled bashfully.

“Teach me.”

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro had never had a crush on anyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro never had a diary.

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

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

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

That had been the last time he cried.

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

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

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

“But do you like playing?”

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

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

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

“Date me.”

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

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

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

“Sure.”

~ O ~

“Sei-kun, I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

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

~ O ~

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

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

Was he mad?

No.

Did it hurt?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking as alluring and enigmatic as ever.

Perhaps, this time, the timing was perfect.

~ O ~

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

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

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

"Hey, you."

"You look different."

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

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

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

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

"How have you been?"

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

You told him your story.

And then, it his turn to tell his story.

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

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

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

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

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

“How did you know this place?”

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

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

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

Your nails were cut short like usual. Unmanicured.

“This place is owned by a relative."

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

Chuckle.

“I don't recall saying that.”

“Not kidding?”

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

“Then he opened a tea shop?”

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

You hummed contemplatively.

“Does he look like you?”

“Not even a bit.”

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

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

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He looked into the colors of your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

When did it happen?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sei."

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

"Cheesy. Want to know what I thought?"

"What?"

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

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

~ O ~

When did it happen?

There had been moments like these, too.

"You're too perfect, Sei.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

When did it happen?

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

~ O ~

When did it happen?

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

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

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

~ O ~

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

But why wasn't it?

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

Your hands were cold.

He supposed his was, too.

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

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

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

When did it happen?

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

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

~ O ~

If only he knew.

But what could he have done?

~ O ~

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

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

Suddenly, he was a young boy again.

But why? he wanted to cry out.

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

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

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

~ O ~

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

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

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

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

“Why didn't you tell me?”

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

“You could've said something.”

He pleaded.

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

And you did, too.

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

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

You were someone he loved endlessly and mercilessly.

“This isn't going to work anymore.”

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

“Do you love me?”

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

“Tell me, princess.”

“Sei—”

“Are you still in love with me?”

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

“I thought so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ O ~

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

They said third time's a charm.

And surely it was.

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

He was glad that wasn't the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you deserve this.”

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

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

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

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

Take care of her for me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tenkasato]

Saw that you’re writing for knb! That’s so great!! Awesome Midorima pieces! Do you write for Takao? Some fluff or hurt/comfort? I’m having bad back aches recently so some pick-me-up would be very welcome. Thank you!! Hope you’re doing well!

You know what, besides Kuroko, I think Takao would also win the best boyfriend award. This cute, handsome bean is simply the sweetest.

You've known Takao since your first day in Shutoku. He was a seatmate, the kid who wore a boyish grin that matched the warm glint in those raven-colored eyes.

"Hi, Takao Kazunari, at your service."

You were shy. He was friendly.

You enjoyed reading. He loved playing basketball.

You loved flowers. He gave you one every so often.

You were keen to the feelings he harbored for you though he never verbalized them outright. Uncertainty, with a little rough sprinkle of fear, littered over your heart—a thin layer of dust that kept you from reciprocating. Everyone told you to give it a try. Give him a chance.

It's not easy. Baring your heart out like that at a young age.

Even when you knew Takao to be a good person, through and through.

"You wanna just stay friends?" he asked one time, unknowingly pulling out the words from your knotted tongue. You inhaled sharply, giving him a side glance as you both continued to stroll on the pavement.

Takao had his arms folded, hands locked behind his neck in a relaxed posture. A soft smile quirked his lips, and if you hadn't hanged out with him often, you'd miss the very subtle melancholy in his otherwise carefree tone.

“What made you mention that now all of the sudden?” you tested the waters.

There was a brief pause from his side. You busied yourself by lightly pounding on your lower back with a closed fist. Your back has been killing you the past couple of days. Long hours seated in front of your desk with your nose buried into your notes always gave you back aches.

Normally you’d be annoyed with the bothersome discomfort, but now you're rather thankful for the distraction.

However, this doesn't go unnoticed by your friend.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, peering at your back.

“No,” you lied, putting your hands in front of you instead.

Takao made a low hum, before switching his glance ahead of him again. “Shin-chan made a comment this morning. He doesn't voice out his opinions most of the time, so hearing it from him meant something.”

“O-oh, is that so?” you stuttered, putting on a fake smile. You wished you looked amused rather than uneasy.

You felt panic boiling in your stomach. Palms clammy, you started to quicken your pace. It's not that you felt nothing for him. You liked him back, a lot. But relationships always terrified you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His voice made you freeze on your tracks. It was only then when you realized that he's stopped walking, gawking at you as if you were an apparition.

“Takao-kun, I—I’m not so sure about…I’m,” you stammered, words clattering over like your thoughts, until you came up with a blatant lie: "My back's killing me…"

You felt his hand on your head. Biting your bottom lip, you raised your head to meet the knowing gaze you’ve always seen him wear. There was something about that smile, that infuriatingly cherubic smile, that made you want to reach out too and ruffle his hair.

“What are you, an old woman?" he laughed and dropped his hand and reached for his pocket. You watched him shift his balance, looking just a tiny bit of sheepish before he looked to you again.

“Listen, everyone probably knows I have had a huge crush on you since day one.”

You blinked rapidly, wanting to tear your eyes from his as he went on. How could he be so confident?

“But if you ask me, I’m perfectly content with just being friends. So forget what I said, forget that I told you of Shin-chan being uncharacteristically nosey. Forget it. Let’s just enjoy our time together, hm?”

You felt your shoulder relaxing at that. It almost felt like you’ve been released from a vice-like grip around your ribcage. Grateful, you find the smile slipping across your lips easier and more naturally.

“I agree.”

Takao takes in your smile, shrugging good-naturedly before dropping to one knee.

With a shock of surprise, you open your mouth to tell him off when he beats you to it. “Hop on."

“What?” you blushed, “No way! I can manage on my own. Stand up. Stand up. You look like a frog from behind.”

Takao bursted into laughter, the sound of it ringing pleasantly in your ears. “Like that lucky charm Shin-chan brought the other day?”

“Yeah, but much uglier.”

He threw you a scandalous gasp. “No one's ever called me ugly before!”

“I mean it, Takao-kun,” you groaned and pulled him up. Takao lets you, but keeps his arm linked to yours. You wanted to comment on it, but decided against it. You let him lead you ahead.

“Promise me, when you finally say ‘yes’ to me next time, you’ll let me pick you up and carry you. Sounds good?”

“And what makes you think I’d even say ‘yes’?” you challenge.

He makes a low whistle. You tug against his arm in retort.

“I’m a man who never gives up,” he chirps.

Thank you for waiting for this, anon! I know it's been so long. Please consider this as a Christmas gift ^^

#takao x reader #takao kazunari #takao kazunari x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

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

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

#akashi seijuro x reader #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuurou x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

The Boy with a Golden Eye

Scenario: You’ve been dating Akashi for a while now, and you’ve never thought you’d meet his other self again. In the Jabberwock tournament, no less.

Pairing: Akashi Seijuro x reader

Well—this was a tough to write. Akashi’s condition seems a little challenging to put to accurate words. Anyhow, apologies for the long wait. Here is Kabedon!Akashi part 3. I tried to write this in a manner where new readers can enjoy this even without reading the first parts (Part 1, Part 2)Thank you for all your suggestions and comments! ^^

Where are you?

Akashi Seijuro is distracted.

“Hey!”

Amidst the screams of the crowd and the succinct yells of his teammates, he couldn’t summon the otherworldly concentration he could usually call on the whim. He eyes Aomine, his hand raised to signal, and effortlessly throws in the ball.

The ball makes contact with Vorpal Sword’s ace, the sound of rubber slapping against flesh making a loud echo. He leaps into the air, levitates and navigates through the air until the ball slams home.

The point is rewarded with a boisterous cheer from the audience. Kise slaps Aomine’s shoulder, whilst the others raise their fists in celebration. Yet, despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Seijuro couldn’t help but shed another glance towards the stands.

Where are you?

......

You’re here.

Unbeknownst to him, you’re already standing outside the stadium, albeit with clenched fists.

You and Akashi are dating. 

Your heart soared with child-like glee at the mere thought. Your younger self would’ve been seething in jealousy. 

But then comes… the dilemma. 

“There are two of me,” that’s what he said.

You didn’t get it very much, your mind running along the lines of, ‘does double personality even work that way?’. You wanted Akashi to elaborate. Or at least shed some light to that secret he wasn’t quite willing to share just yet.

However, despite his insistence of explaining when the right time comes, you knew deep in your own thoughts that you understood.

You saw Akashi Seijuro.

And you also saw Akashi Seijuro.

“Come to the game tomorrow,” Akashi said as he offered his hand to carry your bag.

“Really?” you replied airily as you hooked your bag behind your shoulder and grabbed his hand instead. “I always come to your games without your invitation, for Pete’s sake.”

Akashi grinned at that, squeezing your hand a little. “Perhaps you could meet again—with the other me whom you first met before.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The game tomorrow might require me to use the Emperor Eye, an ability which belongs to my other self. This is a good opportunity—”

“Hold that thought,” you interjected, taking your hand back to rub your temple. “I’m so confused, Akashi-kun.”

“I know,” he sighed. “And that is why it would be a perfect opportunity to talk things out as well.”

“Will you even have time to spare in between games though?”

“I will make time,” he assured. 

It was the way he smiled that disturbed you the most—a gorgeous one, like the usual ones he graciously indulges you with every time he sees you. But this one looked bruised. Troubled. And brittle.

Because of that, you tiptoed between fear and yearning. You stand in front of the entrance of the stadium. You hear the buzzer. The screams. The squeaking of shoes. 

You think of one Akashi Seijuro, his fragile smile, his pair of ruby eyes.

Sometimes, you’d dream of those beautiful eyes, his left occasionally flecked with gold.

You steel yourself forward. Instantly, you catch sight of the white jersey with a number four printed on his back. And just like those magical moments in the movies you loved watching, the second your feet touch with the ground, he turns. 

Your eyes connect, and you see gold.

.......

Akashi runs.

He runs despite the voice of Kuroko’s usually gentle voice alarmingly calling out for him.

He runs despite the uncharacteristic fear that grips at his heart like a vice. His lungs scream at him for air, but he ignores everything else.

Then, he catches you.

“Hey,” you blurt out in surprise as he continues to plow towards you. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

“How do you expect me to rest when you are about to take your leave with not even a word?” he snaps. Your eyes widen. It dawns on you.

His pale skin glistens with sweat, red locks of hair sticking to his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. Standing before you, he narrows his eyes at your stiffened posture. 

You realize who you're talking to.

“I wasn’t about to leave,” you hiss back, impatience suddenly surging through you. “I was just buying juice.”

“Well then, would you care to explain why you have been so hesitant to come and watch the game when you knew I would be back?” he challenges. He towers over you with eyes gleaming with what seems like contempt. 

“Why, are you mad?” you say.

“I am not,” he answers.

“Look, I know you don’t have much time before the next quarter starts. We can talk later—”

“I might not have the time anymore later,” he cuts you off. His voice, despite being rather soft, strikes your back like electricity.

“What?” you choke.

Before you can register, Akashi steps forward and you backpedal from his sudden proximity. Unceremoniously, he slams his hand onto the wall beside your head. You jerk and unconsciously raise your hands between the two of you.

“What—what the hell are you thinking?!" you gasp as the panic sets in. 

“Look at me,” he commands.

You turn your head stubbornly. “No.”

“Look at me,” he says one more time. The urgency cripples your stubbornness. You begrudgingly oblige. Breath hitching, you press your back against the wall. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that with this position and all?” you yap and gesture wildly at his frame. Thankfully, there aren’t any people around to see you in this awkward situation.

A smirk zips his lips upwards as he leans forward until your noses almost touch. “If I recall, a certain someone foolishly backed me to a corner once upon a time. Just like this.”

Heat dusts your cheeks. “And that certain someone got herself a date,” you quip back despite the slight tremor in your voice.

Akashi’s smirk mellows down to a smile. You lose sight of his eyes as he rests his forehead against you shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath tickling you. 

You swallow. “I’m not sure why you’re thanking me.”

“Pesky as you were, I cannot deny that you made my days more interesting because of your childish antics and pranks,” he chuckles.

You smile despite yourself. “The gall of you. I’ll have you know that you’re peskier when you act high and mighty, pretending you aren’t at all a hair away from murdering me.”

“You seem to know how to read minds.”

“I’m known for it,” you shrug obnoxiously before adding. “It’s… nice to see you again, I guess.”

You wait for another caustic response from him, but instead of shooting you down, Akashi plants a kiss on top of your head. The gesture surprises you. 

The sound of the buzzer echoes down the hallways. Akashi withdraws from you, and the lack of warmth injects panic through your core.

“Wait—” you blurt out. “After the game, Akashi-kun. We still need to talk.”

Akashi considers you for a second, then, “How about another bet?”

You stare at him, his outline glowing from the lights behind him and smirk at the nostalgia. “Let’s hear it.”

“If we win this game, you will become mine officially.”

Aren’t I already? you want to ask, but huff out laughter instead. “Alright. Then, you better not slack off purposely just so you have an excuse to dump me, alright?”

“I would not dream of it.”

“I’ll see you later!” you yell behind him as he jogs away. “Okay?”

Akashi flashes you a familiar smile—tiny, almost nonexistent, but thrums melodies that your heart insists on beating to. 

A quarter later, Vorpal Swords wins against Jabberwock, but Akashi is nowhere to be found.

.......

Where is he?

The stars are visible tonight, strewn over the black blanket of the night overhead. You hear his footsteps but you refuse to tear your eyes from the sky. Akashi sits beside you, leaving some space wedged between the two of you.

“He’s gone,” he starts, answering your own unsaid thoughts.

Pain ripples across your chest.

You scrunch up your eyebrows, trying to make sense of things—to make sense of him. There was melancholy in his voice. You want to reach out and touch his cheek, but you can’t seem to unlock your frozen muscles. 

“He’s a fragment of my personality,” Akashi begins to explain, “the one who took it to himself to carry the burdens I otherwise could not. I was a coward. And so he stepped up, became cruel in my stead to protect my sanity, as well as the fragility I didn’t want anyone to know of. And for that, I am grateful to him.”

Tilting slowly, you watch his features soak up in remorse. Akashi looks like a lost child. In a misplaced fascination, you realize how much he’s changed from being someone who wore a perpetual mask of counterfeit perfection to someone who’s willing to bare himself and be vulnerable. Even if it’s only to few people. 

With a delicacy you didn’t know you could muster, you push your hand into his. Akashi interweaves your fingers together and sighs. 

“In the end, it made him who he was—ruthless, heartless and unapproachable. That was why it took me by surprise when you went out your way to get closer.”

“I couldnt help it, Akashi-kun.” you shrug. “To everyone, you were Mr. Perfect. But to me, you looked like someone crying for help.”

“Is that so? I thought he had been able to iron our his emotions more effectively than I ever did.”

“Yeah!” you make an exaggerated gesture of tossing his hand away before jabbing a finger to his chest. “You—your other half—you, you were lonely. And so are you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following,” he chuckles.

You blow out a stray hair that’s gone to your face and cross your arms. “Look, I don’t get it. This stuff is confusing. It’s too complicated. But all im trying to say is… he’s a part of you, just as how you’re a part of him. What you feel deep inside you, he’d also feel. If you’re lonely, so is he. And it shows. It’s inevitable that you reflect each other. You aren’t separate entities. He’s an extension of you.”

You pause in your rant to gaze into eyes, not regretting the way you immediately submerge into the depth of his stare. Mesmerized, you smile at him, hoping that your sentiments and thoughts could go past through layers and layers of him and reach him.

“And it may not mean much, but I love every single part of you, Akashi-kun.”

The sound of rowdy laughter intermingles with the song the wind whistles. You pry your eyes away from his surprised visage to look towards where he came from. The rest of the team are still celebrating their victory.

You suppose such an outright confession would’ve garnered the most massive blush from you, but finally being able to speak that out loud somehow loosened the tangles your heart found itself in. Relieved, you let another easy smile gloss over your lips.

“It seems like I won the bet,” he finally says after recovering. 

“It seems so,” you reply before sighing. You raise a brow at him. “I guess I don't have any choice, huh? Seeing that you’re so persistent and all that.”

Laughter falls free from his mouth as he stands. Akashi offers you his hand. “I have kept my word before. It would only be fair if you grant me the same privileges.”

Haughtily, you take his hand. The smoothness of his palm sends statics across your skin, biting yet exhilarating despite having been accustomed to how he feels against you. 

“Whatever you say, your highness,” you grin wryly.

Akashi gives your hand a squeeze before guiding you back inside.

There’s still a lot to figure out. Being with someone like Akashi has never sounded like a walk in a park. However, as you swing your hands between you, you couldn’t think of anything else other than how perfectly your hand fits in his. 

Read the rest here: Part 1, Part 2

Taglist for this fic: @jhalya @ivysteel18-blog @exaltedvalkyrie @thesongstressayre @I0diluvs @Ioyard176 @nobinot @leeminkc @itadaklmasu @celestair 

This wraps up the Kabedon!akashi series. I hope the tone didn’t change much from part 1 and 2. I felt like the last part was appropriately of a more serious tone.

Akashi’s character is complex, and that is one of the things I really like about him. There are multiple layers of his character that can be further explored through writing. We can thank Fujimaki-sensei for that. Anyhow, if you’ve made it this far, THANK YOU. Thank you for all those who waited and read the whole series. Thank you for all the suggestions. And of course, thank you to the dearest anon who requested this. This 3-part piece wouldn’t have come to life if it weren’t for you guys. I hope I didn’t disappoint. Take care everyone! ^^

The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics​. Please check their wonderful works! ^^

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

[tenkasato]

hi Ten! i ADORE your writing. can i please get hurt/comfort for aomine? thankyouu!

This time, let me hurt and then comfort Aomine ^^ Thank you so much for reading them! Hearing these words from you guys really fuels my drive. I hope I deliver.

Scenario: There are times when only you can make it better for him.

Pairing: Police Officer!Aomine Daiki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

"Hey, where have you been?"

He hears your voice before he even sees your shadow stretching across the floor. He lifts his eyes to your figure—hands on your waist, shoulders tense and mouth downturned.

Aomine always loathes seeing that forlorn expression on your face, but right now, he can't seem to muster the energy to give a shit.

"Weren't you supposed to come home three hours ago? I purposefully left work earlier so I could come over like we talked about."

Aomine adores your voice. It's sweet, but not overly saccharine. Even when you're mad, he thinks you sound lovelier than a serenade.

He purses his lips and storms towards the kitchen to get a glass of cold water, hoping it could soothe the flame torching his chest right now.

"Where are you going? Daiki?"

Your soothing tone does nothing but pick and strum on the nerves tingling under his skin. He swivels around, eyes flaring with agitation.

You notice the anger simmering as you take the brunt of his glare. "Daiki, what happ—"

"Will you just shut up for a sec?" he hisses, his fists clenching by his sides to keep him from banging them onto the wall. "You keep running your mouth like that and I swear."

You recoil from away from him like you were slapped, hard across the face, but to his surprise, you recover all at once. You square your shoulders and march towards him with a glare to match his. "I asked you properly. I think I deserve even just a few words of explanation over you yelling profanities at me."

His eyes widen like saucers, but the anger starts the boil in his stomach, searing him and begging to be released. He stares down at you for a good minute, willing his breath to calm down as your glare slowly melts down to a mere frown.

You move closer, gently and carefully so as not to agitate him further and reach out for his wrists.

Your cold hands cause him to shiver as you slide them into his larger ones. Reluctantly, he locks eyes with you—fragile but strong at the same time.

"I fucked things up," he relents and whispers, uncharacteristically weak and timid. "It wasn't supposed to end up like that. That kid… that kid would have survived if only I were faster. I didn't make it. Fuck! I'm so fucking useless."

"You're not," you insist with a squeeze of your hands around his. Your touch starts to warm up against his skin. "Stop it. I know you, Daiki. You always do your best to save people. I've seen how passionate you are in what you do. I know. I've been watching you, and I admire you for that. There are simply days when you can't save everyone."

You sigh as he starts to enclose your hands completely inside his. Briefly, Aomine Daiki wonders how these dainty hands are able to smooth out the sharp edges that threaten to shear his heart. You gaze at him. A soft smile pulls at your lips, sympathetic. Brave. Believing.

He feels an odd but not unpleasant flutter in his stomach.

You release his hand and raise your arms. "This calls for a making-up, power hug."

"Huh?" he intones with a cock of his chin. Aomine craves the said hug but resorts to being an 'awkward jerk' as Momoi would call him.

"You don't want a hug?" you drop your hands and stare at him dubiously.

He ignores the heat in his ears and cheeks and silently begs that you wouldn't notice it. He turns his back to you and prepares to hang his jacket by the door when he's shoved forwards by your weight.

Without preamble, you've encased him in an embrace, arms around his waist with your forehead against his back. He stiffens at the sudden gesture but mollifies not a second later.

"Hey," he calls, not a trace of gruffness in his voice.

"Hmm?" comes your muffled reply.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass."

Smiling against him, you snuggle closer to him. "And? Is that all you're going to say to me?

He smirks, lightly flicking your arm around his torso.

For once, or maybe even more, he's allowed to be fragile in front of you.

But only you.

"Thanks, Baby."

#aomine daiki x reader #aomine x reader #aomine daiki #aomine x you #kuroko no basket #knb #tenkasato writes #the basketball which kuroko plays

[tenkasato]

Preview to that Akashi oneshot I promised

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

#akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #knb fanfic #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

I really loved the one sided love gojo angst!! When I saw requests were open I knew I had to slip my idea in!

Gojo has this close friend that shares his same personality, same goofyness and also a special grade sorcerer. They both causally hook up with one another quite commonly but they both agreed that sex and platonic feelings is all it was. They both joke around about "practically being married", reader also travels a lot so she is in and out of gojo's life constantly, it could be for a few weeks to a few years.

What happens when gojo catches feelings?

Full angst? Yes, full angst. Hope you like this! Sorry for the wait. Thank you for reading! ^^

Routine

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Warning: Slight mentions of nudity

"Same time next week?"

Gojo raised his torso with his elbows on the bed, arching his silver brows in wonder. "I thought you had an important mission coming up in Osaka next week?"

Your hair was darker than usual under the dim light of his room, he noticed. You flicked it before looking at him. "You weren't listening a while ago, were you?"

Releasing a groan of exasperation, Gojo lied back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. You stood up to pick your clothes. "Can you blame me? It's kind of hard to pay attention to what you were saying when you were panting and moaning."

"I told you about it a few days ago," you cut him off impatiently as you hopped in your denim pants before turning your full profile to scowl at him. "The top brass thinks it's better to postpone the exorcism when a considerable amount of information remains obscure."

He raised his head to see you place a hand on your waist with a frown on your face. Gojo chuckled. "If it's you though, I doubt there'd be any problems."

You sighed in exasperation, giving up on making Gojo see any sense. You're both too tired after that rough session. Honestly, all you wanted to do now was sleep. Maybe for a week or so. Your body desperately craved for that well-deserved rest. In fact, you were tempted to just take his offer to sleep here tonight.

He shrugged and curled his lips to a mischievous grin. "Alright, fine. I'm free next week."

You zipped your shirt up. Gojo busied himself watching you gather your hair into a messy bun. Some fringes covered your forehead. 

“Where’re you heading after this?” he asked.

A curt and tight simper left your lips in a way that suggested the incredulity of his question. "What does it matter to you?"

Gojo rolled his eyes, looking rather sulky. "Of course, it matters. We're friends, aren't we?"

Your previously playful face softened down considerably at his word. You walked back to his bed before leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. "Yes, we are."

He stared at your eyes for a few moments with your face inches from him. His gaze dropped down to your lips and was tempted to close the gap for the first time. 

The trance broke when you straightened your back. Smiling, you marched towards the exit, leaving Gojo alone with his thoughts.

Gojo Satoru liked to believe that he wasn't an idiot. Nor was he dense… at least, not about his own feelings. 

He eventually noticed how he started looking forward to seeing you at his doorsteps, how the sound of your voice whispering his name in utter delirium and pleasure sent incredible chills down his spine, how the softest kisses you gave him afterwards made his chest constrict. 

But he knew it would only complicate the matters at hand. You were content. You were friends who not only drew comfort from each other's presence, but also saw each other as outlets—someone to trust to satisfy one's needs without unnecessary strings attached.

So, he had kept at it, locking up this unsettling sense of longing at the depths of his mind.

"How's it going with the kids?"

Gojo raised his head from the pillow, giving you a side eye as you blew at your cup of tea. His rather thin blanket covered your shoulders, with your hair barely hiding your chest from view.

"They can be a handful at times," he chuckled, thinking back to the three students under his tutelage. "But I've never seen a promising bunch like them before."

You shook your head and laughed. "The great Gojo is having a hard time watching kids? That's new."

"It's not as easy as you think."

"No," you agreed. "I think I'd still choose my job over yours any day."

"Even if it means travelling all the time?" he challenged. "You're barely home. We can't even hang out as often as before when we were still in the Academy."

You set aside your tea to cross your arms. You glanced at him with a curve on your lips. "Someone's missing me."

Gojo found himself fixating on your lips as your tongue slipped out to tease him. It wasn't the first time he wondered what your kiss would taste like—honey? Mint? Citrus? A flavor only you possessed?

Swallowing, he convinced himself that it didn't matter. It was something you agreed to never cross the first time you bared yourself to each other.

"Well, can you blame me?" he made an exaggerated sigh, rolling to his side so he could face you. "We've been stuck around each other almost forever. We're only lacking an official  certificate, a short, formal ceremony and we're married." 

Loud laughter filled his ears. 

Gojo would be lying if he said he didn't feel a slight pinch at his heart as you shook your head merrily at his supposed joke.

Was it really that impossible? Was it really that ridiculous?

Maybe. 

He honestly didn't know, and he wasn't supposed to care.

He quickly changed the subject thereafter. He thought his redundant feelings were not worth ruining the perfectly cozy night you were having.

But, it had always bothered him—the what-if's, the what-if-not's.

During the nights he'd lay alone in his bed, craving for your warmth, he'd indulge himself into picturing you beside him, running your fingers through his hair, pressing feathery kisses on his chest, hearing your sighs against his neck. 

Gojo wondered if you were thinking of him, too. Miles away, with a sun over your head while the moon stared down at him. He'd fall asleep, your smile imprinted into his mind, only to fall into a dream with you lying unconscious on top of him. 

It was infuriating not to know what to do about it. 

It was even more frustrating that he knew you probably weren't haunted by these same questions.

"Hey, I didn't think that mission would take this long."

When you showed up after two years of absence, Gojo felt the crack in his heart overtaking his being. Without preamble, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you inside his flat. He threw you over the cough and hungrily tore your clothes without any care of your pained whimper.

You laughed, breathless, but you kissed his jaw, nonetheless.

"Damn it, Gojo Satoru, is this how you welcome a friend you haven't seen in a while?"

Gojo pulled away to stare at you. He searched your eyes for anything, anything that might give him a clue about anything you might harbor for him. He aimlessly, helplessly, desperately searched you for anything that reflected his own confusion and undoing. 

He couldn't find it. 

You smiled widely at him, oblivious to how his heart was breaking beneath your careful touch. You cradled his jaw and tilted your head.

"Well, I missed you, too," you said cheerily. 

That night, he made love to you. But his heart was not in it. Voices sifted through his mind as he stared down at your sweaty face. What if? What if not? 

Even as you lied flat beside him, fingers still interwoven with his, he asked questions.

"I'll be going now. I still have to fix my dirty laundry." You let go of his hand. You swung your legs, started picking up your clothes and putting them on. 

Was it always going to be this same routine? 

"Go get some sleep," you said tiredly. "Same time next week?"

You went over to him, bending down to give him the usual goodbye kiss. As you hovered over him, Gojo found himself wondering yet again what your lips would taste like. 

What if?

Again, his mind would pester him with questions he wasn't man enough to acknowledge.

You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and winked.

"Same time next week." Gojo called out as he watched your retreating back. 

If anyone's interested to read the other Gojo one-sided love fic, here it is! ^^ Thank you for reading!

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

helloooo Ten, i'm new to your blog but i already love your writing! can i request Kise hurt/comfort? angst with fluffy ending please!

Hi! I apologize this took a while (again). Thank you very much for reading my writings. It really makes me feel appreciated. I hope you like this! ^^

The Same Sky Above Us

Scenario: When being in a relationship with Kise feels like you're always hanging by the thread, what compels you to stay?

Pairing: Kise Ryouta x reader

“I can explain.”

You knew dating the Kise Ryota wasn’t going to be easy. The well-known golden boy is a rising star. Not one person in the country hasn’t heard about his unmatchable talent and surreal beauty—all of which, he claims, belongs to you and only you.

When he asked you to be his, you laid out your reasons for declining. It wasn’t practical. He carried far too much baggage you didn’t have the energy or the courage to deal with. All the alarms in your body screamed. Red flags were raised in front of you. However, when he grasped your hand that night and captured your eyes with his mesmerizing gaze, you figured that the rose-tinted glasses veiling your vision kept you from seeing the warnings. 

You loved Kise Ryouta. You were willing to throw yourself out into the wolves that plagued the show business if it were to make him happy. 

So, here you are. 

“Babe? Are you there?”

Ryouta’s voice sounds crippled through the phone. It’s as if his mouth is full of coarse sand. You hear the tremble, ever so slightly. You picture him, phone on his ear like you, eyes downcast and marred with melancholy that doesn’t seem to fit his face.

You wrap your blanket around you. The wind blowing from the opened window bites your skin in the most unpleasant of ways.

Silently, you contemplate closing the window but avert your eyes back to your laptop instead. 

The image of a blonde diva with her lips mashed against Ryouta’s is flashed from the screen. Her nails, long and painted baby blue, dug into the skin of his chin. Long, flowing curls fell from her shoulders, partly covering her closed eyes. 

Ryouta on the other hand—

“She just jumped me,” he goes on, tone increasingly frantic but also tired. “We were shooting for the editorial print cover, and—and—we were standing close to each other. She was my partner for that pose.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes were closed too, face not particularly showing any expressions that would give away anything. His hands were on her waist. Both figures are slightly blurry from that stolen shot.

“I tried to push her away immediately, but they were somehow able to take the photo.”

The headline writes “KISE RYOUTA, DATING MULTI-AWARDED INTERNATIONAL STAR HIMIKO SILVA ” in large, bold font, but you had to read it a couple of times just to absorb the words and the implications they hold. 

“It means nothing. I swear!”

You knew dating the Kise Ryota wasn’t going to be easy.

You couldn’t count how many hate messages you received from anonymous sources online. Each day, you carefully cover your face in the crowd as you go to work in the fear of being spotted. Kise Ryouta is loved and admired by many, but the same couldn’t be said for the “lucky, undeserving girl” he was dating. 

'What did he even see in her?' 'There are so many better choices for Kise-kun.' 'She’s a bitch.' 'Where did she come from? She’s a nobody.' Yes, you’ve probably heard it all.

“I told you about that gig, didn’t I? The one where famous models from New York are participating in? Remember? You—you said it was okay with you that I joined, right? It just so happened…just so happened that she—”

His dreams and opportunities carried him to different places. To Paris. To Seoul. To Madrid. And now, to the US. You both weren't oblivious of the difficulties surrounding long distance relationships. But he said he’d make it work. He said he’d do his best and whispered sweet promises of forever in your ear every night. 

You believed him.

Even when he continues to shoot provocative photos with women who looked like they were sculpted to perfection. Even when rumors of him hooking up with famous actresses became the news you listen to as you drink coffee in the morning.

Ryouta says your name, utters it pleadingly. You snap your laptop shut and hop out of your bed to close the window.

“Please believe me. You're the only one I love. I can't ever betray you like that. When they touch me, all I could think of is how much I wanted you to be here instead. Please. Please. Talk to me. I’m sorry—talk to me—”

“Ryouta,” you cut him off as you looked outside the window. 

The line grows silent. 

"Where are you right now?" 

You hear a slight shuffle from the background. Then, he replies, "I'm in a coffee shop."

"Ahh, that explains the jazz music," you remark. "Can you look at the sky from where you are?" 

There's another pause. You imagine him frowning at your seemingly out-of-place question. "Yeah. I can."

"Great. What's the weather like there?"

"It's sunny," Ryouta says, words laced with confusion. "The clouds are fluffy. The sky is orange but also pink. It's a little hot today, but just the right amount of warmth you prefer."

You can't help the smile that curves your lips. "How lucky. It's raining here. Cold. The type of weather that makes me want to cuddle with you."

"... what?” A pause. The sound of glass and cutlery clinking fills your ear. “But aren't you mad?"

"I wish I could see you right now. We're miles away from each other that even if I dress up now and head to the airport, I won't be able to see you until a few days. But we're still somehow connected through this call, through the memories we have of each other, and even through the same sky we're under—it comforts me." 

The half moon is barely able to cast its glow through the rolling clouds. You sigh and lean by the window.

"I trust you," you tell him and mean every word. "You've never done anything to break that trust. The people around us, the situations, our circumstances aren't always on our side. But you are."

"But—" he begins again. He sounds so helpless it pricks your heart. "But sometimes I wonder if you're better off without me. I've caused you so much pain and trouble just by following my dreams." 

"Don't downplay yourself," you say with a shake of your head. "You don't remember how much sleep you lost by trying to keep me awake to finish my work? Or how you covered my student loan when I was almost penniless? Or when you told me I was beautiful even when I cut my bangs wrong?

"Ryouta, I knew dating you wouldn't be easy and I was prepared for whatever came with you. I believe you. So please, believe in my feelings for you, too."

Once again, you're left in silence. You transfer your phone to your other ear and walk back to your bed. 

When you lie down, you hear him sigh. You close your eyes and imagine him beside you, lying on his side with that boyish grin you love so much. 

You reach out, as if he was there. 

"I wish you were here," he finally says, echoing your thoughts and creating a bridge between you two. "I miss you."

"I want to hold your hand," you say.

"I want to hug you," Ryouta chuckles.

"I want to touch your face."

"I want to hear your voice," he whines.

You laugh at that. "You're already hearing it… I want to kiss your lips."

You hear him groan from the other line. "I want to smell you."

"Creepy," you laugh, "But okay. I want to fuck you."

Ryouta gasps, scandalized and no doubt flustered. "Language! You—you're—not that I don't want to… but—!!"

"Come home to me soon, alright?" you say amidst his haphazard stuttering.

You close your eyes again, picturing Ryouta, blushing beetroot red, a cup of hot chocolate in his hand, wearing the wool sweater you bought him on his 27th birthday, smiling through the longing. 

"I will," he promises. "Always."

#kise x reader #kise ryouta x reader #kise ryota #kuroko no basket #knb #knb fanfic #kise x you #kise ryōta #kise ryouta x y/n #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

Hi hi😁 im really glad to catch ur requests open. Ten, would it be alright to adk for a comfort fic with Akashi and his insecure fem! best friend in their 20s? Like sure akashi is perfect abd all but with each other they can share their ups and downs as young adults navigating through life. They experience heartaches and breakups and drunk nights and happy moments, victories, failures, anxieties, hilarious moments etc that theyll remember forever. Theyve fought too and made up throughout the years. Theyre both confused with their careers and perosnal lives. Akashis more sure definitely but she doesnt know where shes going. I thinj this has thr potential to br a funny story hahaha. They just sypport one another always! Maybe they end up together in the end or just implied? Lots of fluff please!! Thank u so much. If it's too vague mayve just akashi tirelessly motivating her and believing in her always never once doubting her potential? You can of course tweak all the details to ur liking judt this general vibe is more than okay. Really need this one! (me im confused 20 something lol) thank you so so much this would mean the world to me.

Hi anon! Let me start by saying how much I adore this idea. I was thinking of how I could incorporate the scenes you listed. At first I was thinking of writing headcanons, but I think writing a narrative of Akashi’s POV will allow him to be more expressive. Anyways, without further ado… ^^

Pairings: Akashi Seijuro x bestfriend!reader

Akashi Seijuro knows what your every breath meant.

He watches you furrow your brows, pucker your lips and make a sharp exhale as you scan the list of entrance exam passers on the board. He waits for you to find your name (there, in the middle of the people sharing your surname. He’s seen it minutes ago), and when you finally did, he observes your sigh of relief.

A radiant smile stretches your lips.

“I passed,” you announce, as if he didn’t know yet.

“Of course,” he answers. His voice brims with confidence. If there’s anyone who could put her mind to something she wanted, it was his best friend.

“Come on, I’ll treat you!” you enthuse, hooking an arm around his as you walk away from the crowd.

Your breathe trembles. Excitement zapped in with flavors of anxiety. 

Even so, he’s glad you’re going to college with him.

– 0 – 

There are times when Akashi wishes you saw yourself with his eyes.

Your hair sits like a worn-out mop on your head. Light make-up smudged at the wrong places. Eyes rimmed with exhaustion, hurt and self-contempt. 

“I should’ve know,” you release a long-drawn groan. “I should’ve know he was a good-for-nothing jerk who just wanted me as some sort of a trophy!”

Akashi’s quiet gaze falls on your drink—warm milk, before a smile captures his lips. Who gets drunk on milk anyways?

“Am I not good enough, Sei?” you mewl. Your eyes are huge and watery, begging him to disagree. 

He sighs. “I warned you early on that that boy was nothing short of trouble. Did you at least heed my words?”

You wince and lay your head over your folded arms. With another groan, you snuggle to the side of his arm. “I need my best buddy right now. Not a father.”

“And a friend I am,” he says. He thinks it over, and then, “He is blind.”

“What?”

“You are a supremely flawed human being. We all are. Needless to say, you are a definitely a cut above many.”

You hear the tease in his voice, narrow your eyes and huff. “Is that your way of comforting me?”

Akashi remembers the time you lightheartedly prepare a meal for your now ex-boyfriend. He recalls the genuine emotions dancing in your eyes. He hears your hopeful voice, the one that carries a song of future promises. 

He wishes you’d see yourself through his eyes.

“No, it’s my way of telling you the truth.”

– 0 – 

Akashi thinks you’re like the moon. Meek and fluctuating.

When you were kids, you always shied away from the adults. You preferred to play with him at the garden or in his room. 

Whenever he invited you out to one of the family busines dinners, you begrudgingly tagged along. The polite smile on your face never left, but he could see hints of unease in the way you kept close to him.

When with his friends or teammates in Teiko, you’d exchange pleasantries, indulge them in small talks and even spill supposedly embarrassing things about him. He’d feel you stealing glimpses of him as you looked for reassurance.

“I think you’re like the sun, Sei,” you tell him one time, during the heat of an argument he’d rather not have. It was one of those times when you two walk home together in the swell of the night, university work keeping you both out longer than normal. 

You’ve stopped on your tracks, and instead, you’re glaring at him. 

“Pardon?” he says.

“I said, you’re like the sun. It’s like you’re meant to rule the skies. You’ve got everything figured out. You’ve got your path laid out for you, and all you need to do is walk over it.”

Akashi finally faces you. It’s then that he notices the slight glimmer in your eyes. Tears from you are rare, and that is why seeing them adorning your gaze makes his chest ache.

“I meant no offense,” Akashi explains. “All I am trying to say is that this indecision might deter you from realizing the things you really want.”

“But what can I do about it? I’m not so sure what I want to do. You think shifting courses is easy?”

He shakes his head. “I did not say that. But you need to start making choices that you wouldn’t second think at the last moment and waste valuable time.”

Your eyes flare at the jab. “Someone like you won’t understand what it’s like to be unsure and lost. You’re talented, smart and versatile. On the other hand, I have to work thrice as hard just to get by each day. I bet you’ve never experienced feeling empowered and ready to take the world one second, only to run out of fumes the next moment.”

A choked noise rumbles your throat as you inspire some air. 

“And unlike you, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon up my ass! Stop pretending as if you understand me at all!”

The hurt etches itself on his face, you realize too late.

“Ah… Seijuro, I didn't mean to…” you begin, but he walks ahead of you.

“Let’s go home,” he tells you, not wanting to talk further.

The silence of the aftermath kills you, but it also kills him too, knowing that he could’ve told you about how he thinks the moon glows brighter at nights.

– 0 – 

Akashi knows he isn’t infallible.

He’s been beaten by you in a game of cards multiple times when you were seven. He’s fallen a flight of stairs once, and just when he thought no one saw, a blast of laughter emanated from you. He’s worn clothes that were 'outrageously heinous’ according to you. He’s made you cry before, many times—sometimes because of the most mundane and pettiest of things such as eating your dessert accidentally, but sometimes because of almost irreparable damages such as when he told you he needed no one else but himself.

It was a lie of course, and you knew it.

So when he went home after Rakuzan’s defeat at the hands of Seirin, you were there, perched on his bed. Glowing with warmth. 

“I figured you want to watch movies with me?” you said with a wry smile. You gestured at the cups of hot chocolate by his lamp.

He wasn't perfect. He won't ever be, but he figures that that's okay.

– 0 – 

Akashi can tell when you're nervous.

"I'm so nervous, Sei," you verbalize his thoughts out loud, going over the mirror to strip down to your underclothes.

Akashi ducks, keeping his eyes back to his phone. "Will you please change in private?" he asks, peeved.

"What," you stick out your tongue, putting on that long, cream dress. It falls until your ankles. "We used to run around buck naked in the river when we were younger."

"Emphasis on the younger."

You try to pull the back zipper up, but it proves to be challenging given the low level cut of the dress. Instead, you walk towards him with your hand holding the fabric behind your back. With the other hand on your hip, you ask, "Well? Classy enough?"

"They say it's a trick question when a woman asks about how she looks."

"I'm serious," you hiss.

"You look presentable," he gives in, smiling a bit.

You beam at him before turning back towards the mirror. As you pick up a tube of lipstick, Akashi notices the journal sitting atop your desk.

"Hey, thanks for agreeing to this," you say all of the sudden, unknowingly disrupting his train of thoughts. "I just needed someone to be my date for this event. Otherwise, they'll accuse me of wasting a free ticket… that or, they call me unsociable. That's going to make me feel like crap again."

Akashi sighs for the umpteenth time that day, staring down at the yellowing cover and multi-colored marks of your worn-out journal. It’s the notebook he gave you a few years ago. Hands hovering above the worn out notebook, he says, "You need not to feel like crap just because there are scrutinizing eyes watching you."

"You don't get it," you reply. "This is huge for me and my career. If I screw up—"

"You will rise back," he completes the sentence for you. Akashi holds your nervous gaze, then adds, "Adversaries are meant to defeat us until we gain enough strength and means to overcome. Don't be daunted by the possibility of failure.

"Refrain from holding yourself back, and start believing in people when they tell you about how amazing you are in your own rights."

The monumental pause and gawking you give him is enough to make him grin.

Turning away before he sees your eyes glisten, you harrumph, "Always so flowery in your words, Sei. Whatever. Help me pull this zipper up, will you?"

Grin widening, he ambles over to you to do just that. 

– 0 –

There are a number of things Akashi constantly wonders about.

For example, he wonders why you always make a fuss about him. You were also like this before. When he lost his mother, you did everything to fill up the gaping hole.

“Hmm, should you use this tie?” you ask, placing the said clothing article over his chest, “or this black one? I think the black one fits you better than this red one, hmm?”

You toss the chosen tie on the chair before he can let a word out. You proceed on rummaging through his closet, muttering under your breath about how rich Akashi is and how having too many clothes to choose from is a bother.

Akashi chuckles and grabs the tie you selected. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” you repeat, incredulous. “You’re going out on a date! You have to look your absolute best, otherwise you’re going to live down that regret for the rest of your life!”

“An exaggeration,” he remarks. “And to set the record straight, this is hardly the first time I am going out to dinner with someone.”

“Damn right, it's not. But you wouldn't know if you’d actually be dating your soulmate, right? Better make a good impression.”

He wants to argue that he doesn't at all consider it a date. It was a dinner meeting his father set-up, one with the heir of a promising business partner. And still, you frantically run around his room like a madman who is at her wits end. 

He looks at your back fondly.

Here you are, young adults venturing out on new chapters of your life—still going hand in hand, inseparable. You have always been there to keep him grounded. And he, in turn, never fails to guide you back when you seem to stray away. 

"Please get it right this time," he hears you mumble as you finally emerge from his towering closet. "Your dates never seem to work out, for Pete's sake, Sei. I'm starting to think you're the problem here."

"I just do not like being in a hurry."

"Yeah, sure," you reply, completely unconvinced. "But it is weird. You're like the best, ideal guy out there. No one compares to you!"

You stare down at him as he stares back with a painted gaze. Giving up, you sigh and shake your head, shooting him an affectionate smile as you hand him his gray dress shirt.

"Bachelor of the year, they say. I wonder why the hell you're still single," you laugh.

He wonders too. 

And he wonders whether it has anything to do with that saccharine smile of yours.

Taglist: @shakethatsassyass

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

[tenkasato]

hi Ten! I noticed you don't have fics with Midorima, do you not write for him? if you do, can i please request a fluffy midorima x reader where reader is a 3rd year? thankyou so muchh

Hello, nonnie! I’m sorry this took long to write. I adore Midorima, so I’d like to thank you for requesting this. 

Lucky

Scenario: On a very important match for the semi-finals, Midorima’s lucky item was none other than you. 

Pairing: Midorima Shintaro x 3rd year!reader

For the life of him, Midorima Shintaro lamented over Oha Asa’s lucky item for today.

He’s been asked to bring with him the most peculiar of things—an old telescope, an alligator’s tooth, an idol’s picture book, his father’s first toy as a child, you name it. Midorima had religiously kept up with these almost unreasonable demands without fail.

All in the name of being in his best state every day.

Today, however, on the day of his Interhigh semi-finals against Kaijo Highschool, Oha Asa had finally commanded him to do the near impossible.

“I can’t believe it,” Takao’s voice resounded from behind him.

“Shut up, Takao,” he muttered in a warning voice.

“I didn’t think you’d have it in you to do it!” Takao finally broke into his glee, bumping against the green-haired ace to throw his arm around Midorima’s shoulders. “You asked her out! That cute senpai you’ve been crushing hard on!”

“I have never said that I like her,” Midorima hissed, shoving Takao off him and dropping by the bench to change into his basketball shoes. 

“No,” Takao sang, “but I watched Oha Asa this morning to check if you needed help with your lucky item.”

Midorima cursed.

“This is an important day after all,” he finished.

There were rare times when Oha Asa’s lucky item would be a person. It was rare, but he always despised those days. It was simply too troublesome.

“Come on,” Takao called, already dressed in his jersey. Midorima wanted to wipe that smug and teasing grin on his face but decided that that would be a waste of time. He promptly uncoiled the tape around his fingers, before heading out of the locker room.

Takao crossed his hands behind his head. “Senpai-chan is probably waiting for you in the stands already.”

“If you don’t shut your mouth this instance, I swear I am going to lobotomize you, Takao,” Midorima said, feeling the redness crawl up his neck. 

Takao laughed. “Chill out, man. I knew you liked her since day 1. You don’t have to be so bashful about it.”

“Who says I am?”

“Shin-chan, you look like a literal stop light.” Takao paused in his steps to gesture at Midorima’s hair, face and clothes. “Green, red and orange.”

Midorima’s eyes widened in lividity. “You—”

“How’d you even do it?”

Midorima sneered at him and kept walking. “I simply invited her, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s it??”

“I needed to return her lip balm after all.”

While Takao silently pondered on this, Midorima recalled being in a slightly similar situation before. A game against one of his previous Teiko team mates (Yosen in particular), a much needed lucky item, and the presence of a certain third year upperclassman.

Much to his horror, Midorima thought he had carefully packed his mother’s lip balm before heading out. But alas, he misplaced it. Although his suspicions of his younger sister surreptitiously stealing it from him wasn't far off the radar.

He had been tying his shoelaces, albeit with shaking hands that day when someone had tapped his shoulder.

“What?” he had said, caustic tone lacing the word.

The light, uncertain shuffle had made him look up, his eyes meeting a pair of curious ones as you had looked down at him. His jaws had slackened a little. You had looked so radiant even just with that innocent, tiny smile of yours. He had recovered immediately, choosing instead to clear his throat and push his glasses to his face.

“W-what is it?” he had asked.

“I heard from your captain Miyaji-san that you needed something,” you had replied.

Midorima had sworn that he had never heard a voice as lovely as yours.

Before he could ask you to clarify, you had presented him a peach-colored tube. Midorima had stared down at the lip balm in your hand, eyebrows scrunched. It had been taking his all to keep the heat from his face.

Sensing his hesitation, you had taken his wrist and placed the lip balm into his hand. You had grinned at him.

“Good luck on your game today. I’m sure you’ll win for Shutoku today,” you had enthused before giving him a small wave and pivoting around your heel.

Snapping out of reverie, Midorima had hopped onto his feet and called out, “Wait. What’s your na—how—when will I return this?”

You had turned back around and hummed. “You can look for me in class 3-E. And don't worry, you can return it any time.”

Midorima swore he tried to return the cosmetic back a day after the game. But somehow, by some twisted plot of the universe, he couldn’t catch you in the said classroom. Which then led to this day—the perfect excuse of asking her out by pretending that it was for your lip balm.

Midorima wanted to smash his face on the wall.

And he would have if not for his glasses.

The overly familiar voice zapped at him. His body turned to your direction before he could control it. Not a millisecond earlier, you occupied his mind wholly. 

Beside him, Takao made a low whistle. 

“Great heavens,” you panted, “I was looking all over the place for you. I thought you’d be with Miyaji-san.”

Midorima stared at your reddened cheeks, the strands of har glued to your clammy skin, the cherubic smile painting your lips. He didn’t notice Takao walking ahead of him as he turned his full profile to you. 

“Se—senpai,” he cleared his throat, nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I apologize for failing to return this to you in time.”

With robotic movements, he fished out the treasured tube out of his pocket. 

You stared at the lip balm in his hand before smiling. “You sure you don’t need it anymore?”

He shook his head, all the while holding that curious gaze of yours with his own. A breath of fresh air. That’s what you remind of him. The atmosphere surrounding him and his team was charged with electricity, what with the upcoming decisive match against Kise and the rest of the Blue Elites. 

However, Midorima thought that seeing you somehow calmed the turbulent humming of his chest.

You nodded and took the lip balm from his hand, your fingers leaving feathery touches of warmth in his hand.

Midorima ventured on a small smile.

“I have all that I need right here, as a matter of fact,” he answered, meaning every word.

You chuckled and pumped a fist in the air, completely oblivious to the true meaning of his words. “That’s the spirit. You trained hard for this. Now, go win for us, Ace! I’ll see you there!”

Waving good bye, you started to make your way to the seats to join your friends. Midorima let his gaze linger on your back for a few more moments before swearing on this game today. 

After his assured victory, he was going to ask you out.

For real.

I read from wiki once that Shin-chan preferred mature women, right? ^^ Hope you enjoyed this!

Taglist: @shakethatsassyass

#midorima x reader #midorima shintaro x reader #midorima shintarou #midorima x you #kuroko no basket #knb #knb fanfic #the basketball which kuroko plays #midorima shintaro x you #midorima x y/n #tenkasato writes #anon request

[tenkasato]

Preview to that Akashi oneshot I promised

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

#akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #kuroko no basket #knb #knb fanfic #tenkasato writes

[tenkasato]

HIATUS

And yes, this is very late, I know. I haven't been able to answer or write any of the requests and for that, I'm really sorry T^T

I started working as a resident doctor in my country, and work in the health care sector is really tough. Tough, perhaps, is an understatement I cannot emphasize. We work 100+ hours per week. We barely have day offs and... okay, end of rant.

I want to let you guys know that I will still write your requests, both new ones and old ones in queue. But it might take quite some time. Rest assured, I will. I love these fandoms, characters and the act of writing after all.

I'll still be active anyhow! Feel free to share me your thoughts anytime.

I love you all!

#tenkasato writes #tenkasato says what #kuroko no basket #jujutsu kaisen #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[tenkasato]

Hi, dears! Please check my masterlist for the WIPs. I updated them with the new requests. I promise to write them! Feel free to send me an ask regarding your requests, or for any other questions.

I'm sorry for the wait, but thank you so much for requesting and reading. I love hearing from you guys. Have a great day everyone! ^^

#tenkasato writes #tenkasato says what #requests #WIPs #queues

[tenkasato]

Requests Temporarily Closed!

Hello, dear friends! I'm closing the requests for now so I can work on my current lists. I might be busier than usual because of work.

But here's the thing, you can still send me requests and I will keep them in the WIPs. I will write them, but it might take quite some time to upload them. ...Yes, I know I post late regardless, and I apologize for it. (I really am sorry :( ) Just so you know, I seriously love it when I receive requests, but I felt like I might be making you guys wait too long, hence this temporary hiatus on receiving requests.

Here are the requests I have before closing the requests, which I will work on real soon:

These are listed also in my Masterlist.

Again, you may still send requests! But I can't promise that I can work on them soon. No requests will be deleted! And you can still hit my askbox to asks updates or if you want to chat.

Thank you everyone! ^^ Please have a good day!

#tenkasato says what #requests #work is stressful #i wish i could have a year off to write stuff #i haven't touched my original work for almost a year now

[tenkasato]

No request, just wanted to say that I did quite enjoy your knb writings. Not a lot of blogs still do those, especially this well, so thanks for sticking up with the basketball dorks :)

Wow, thank you thank you! Knb will always hold an important piece of my heart. I've always watched it as a stress reliever when college got too hectic and stressful. Even now I still do ^^

Thank you for reading them! And thank you for taking the time to write this message. You guys really inspire me to continue writing. Have a good day! ^^

#kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko no basket fanfic #ask tenkasato #lylakoi #you know i really miss having surplus of blogs writing knb too #i used to binge them

[tenkasato]

Omg... Im dead... The 3 part akashi fic is making me burst with happiness... How do i join ur tag list 😭

Hello! I've read your comments, and they made my face hurt from all the smiling I did. This means a lot to me.^^

You can message me or reply here if there's any specific fics you want to be tagged in (ie. all Kuroko no Basket fics, or particular character fics). Thank you so much! ^^

#shakethatsassyass #ask tenkasato #thank you soooo sooo much #that last akashi part really had me nervous because i wanted to be able to tie it up properly #thank you for reading my writings