GOM + Kagami with a super smart, shy and sweet s/o
Authors Note:y/n = your name// reader is implied to be female // semi.proof read// Have fun <3
Akashi Seijūrō was used to excellence. He expected it in others, and demanded it from himself. Leadership came easily. Confidence, naturally. Emotions? Those were always controlled. Predictable. Elegant. Until you. You were the quiet one in the library. Always buried in books thicker than some of his textbooks, making notes with that same thoughtful furrow of your brow. Your voice was soft—so soft that even when you answered the teacher’s most difficult questions with ease, people barely noticed.
Akashi noticed. He noticed everything about you. How you held your pen slightly crooked. How you blushed when praised. How your eyes lit up—not from attention, but from understanding.
You were brilliant. And shy. And kind. And it absolutely wrecked him.
Around you, Akashi changed. He started walking slower in hallways. Hoping to match your pace.He started sitting closer in study groups. Quietly rearranging the seating chart in his head so he’d end up beside you—every time. And when you spoke to him? Even just a polite “Good morning, Akashi-san”—he’d feel it like a violin string being plucked softly in his chest.
One day after class, he saw you sitting alone on a bench in the courtyard, deep in a book, a gentle smile on your lips. You didn’t see him at first. But he saw you. And that was it.He walked over slowly and sat beside you. You looked up, startled. “A-Akashi-san?”. He offered a warm, rare smile. “May I join you?”. You blinked. “Um… y-yes, of course. I was just… I mean, I didn’t think you’d…”
He tilted his head, amused. “Didn’t think I’d what?”
“Want to sit with me,” you murmured. Akashi frowned gently—not angry, just surprised. “I always want to sit with you.” Your face flushed so quickly he felt a flicker of guilt. “Forgive me,” he said, tone softening. “That was… perhaps too forward.” You shook your head quickly. “No! I just… I never expected someone like you to notice me. Let alone be so…”
“Interested?” he finished for you, voice as smooth as a violin. You nodded shyly. He looked at you for a long moment, something calm but intense in his gaze. “You’re the most quietly extraordinary person I’ve ever met,” he said simply. “Your intelligence is elegant. Your presence… grounding. And your kindness humbles me.”
You blinked, speechless. He glanced away, cheeks faintly pink. “I don’t say things like this lightly.”
You smiled, soft and amazed. “I know. That’s why it means a lot.” A small silence settled between you—comfortable, peaceful.
Then, you offered your book out to him, shyly. “I… think you’d like this one.”
He took it from your hands like it was something precious. And smiled—fully, gently—for the first time in weeks. “Thank you. I’d like to read anything you recommend. Always.”
The scent of vanilla and melted chocolate filled the kitchen as soft music played in the background. Murasakibara Atsushi stood tall—half slouched and yawning—watching you fuss over measuring flour like it was a scientific experiment.
"____-chin, do we really need to be that exact with the grams? It's just cookies…" he mumbled, leaning his elbow on the counter and resting his chin on his hand. You looked up, cheeks faintly pink. “W-Well… yes. If you want the texture to be perfect, the ratios matter. It’s chemistry, really…”
Atsushi blinked slowly, gaze fixed on you. “You always say stuff like that… you make baking sound like rocket science. Kinda cute.” You fumbled the measuring cup, barely catching it. “I-I’m not trying to sound smart, I just—wanna get it right…” He chuckled, that lazy, deep rumble that made your heart flip. “You’re so sweet, ____-chin. Like sugar. Way sweeter than snacks.”
Your face turned cherry red. “Atsushi!”
He reached over and gently poked your cheek with a flour-covered finger. “It’s not fair. You’re so small and smart and nice. Every time you talk all shy like that, I feel weird inside. Not a bad weird. Just… like I wanna do stuff better.”
You tilted your head. “Better?”
“Yeah,” he said, straightening up. “Like… try harder. I don’t usually care about much, but I like baking with you. It makes me wanna get it right.” Your eyes softened, and a shy smile tugged at your lips. “Then… can I teach you how to pipe the frosting today? You always eat the ones I make before I finish decorating them.” Atsushi looked away, slightly sheepish. “Mnn… you caught me…”
You handed him the piping bag, your fingers brushing his. “We can decorate together. I’ll show you my favorite technique.”
He took it, his giant hand awkwardly adjusting to the dainty tool. “Only if you promise not to laugh.”
“I would never laugh at you,” you said softly, “You’re trying your best, and that’s what makes it perfect.”
His chest felt warm. No one's ever looked at him like that before—like he was more than just tall or scary or strong. Like he mattered, just for being himself. By the time you finished, the kitchen was a sweet mess. Frosting smudged on both your noses, trays of heart-shaped cookies decorated with surprising finesse, and a very sleepy but content Murasakibara who had only eaten two this time. (Progress.) He leaned back, licking a bit of icing from his thumb. “Hey, ____-chin?”
“You’re like my favorite snack. But better. You make everything feel... softer.”
You giggled and leaned your head on his arm. “You’re soft too, y’know. Especially when you smile like that.”. He looked down at you, violet eyes hazy but full of something gentle and real, “Let’s bake together forever, kay?”
It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, and Seirin's gym echoed with the sound of basketballs hitting the hardwood. Taiga Kagami was practicing his jump shots, sweat glistening on his brow, focused as ever.nSitting quietly on the bleachers, you watched him with a small smile, a book resting in your lap—Astrophysics for People in a Hurry. You weren’t in a rush, though. Not when watching your boyfriend throw down dunks like gravity didn’t apply to him. Kagami noticed you looking and missed his shot. The ball bounced away, and he ran a hand through his hair, flustered. "Ah—don't stare like that! I get nervous." You hid behind your book, cheeks flushing. “S-Sorry… you just look really cool when you play.”
He jogged over to you, panting lightly. “You’re always saying stuff like that out of nowhere.” You fidgeted with the corner of a page. “I just mean it... you always look cool to me.” Kagami crouched in front of you, his crimson eyes softening. “And you always make my brain hurt with those big science words,” he teased, grinning. “But I love hearing you talk about that stuff anyway.”
Your face went even redder. “Y-You do?”
“Yeah. You light up when you explain things. Like when you told me stars are basically giant balls of gas, but they’re still pretty, like you.”
You giggled shyly. “You remembered that?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Course I did. I don’t get half of what you say, but I like your voice when you say it.” There was a pause, warm and content. Kagami stood and held out a hand, when he said“Come shoot a few with me.”
“I’m terrible at basketball,” you said nervously, but took his hand anyway. He answered quickly, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll teach you. You teach me stars, I teach you hoops. Deal?”
You nodded, heart fluttering, “Deal.” As he guided your hands on the ball and helped you take a wobbly shot, he laughed as it bounced off the backboard.
"Okay, okay—maybe we start with layups."
You smiled up at him, your hand still in his."Only if I can tell you about black holes while we practice."
“Only if I can tell you you’re cute while you do it,” he shot back.And under the fading light in the gym, stars and basketballs spun in harmony.
Aomine Daiki had never been one for rules, schedules, or emotional depth. He liked basketball, naps, and vending machines and his ever loved explicit magazines. Simple stuff. So when he started showing up early to the vorpal swords practice with a clean uniform, smiling, and even offering to help Kuroko rebound, everyone knew something was up. Very up.
“Who is she?” Kagami asked, squinting like he was trying to solve a strange math problem. “Some genius girl from Class 2-B,” Kise whispered. “I heard she’s top of the year. Super quiet. Real sweet. Super stlylish glasses. The whole academic weapon thing.”
“Wait,” Midorima interjected. “That girl? The one who once corrected the physics teacher once? No way she and Aomine even know eachother....if shes a jaguar...hes a....snail”
“Yep. Exactly that girl,” Kise confirmed. “Apparently she’s been tutoring Aomine.”
“Oh god,” Kagami muttered. “She’s his weakness.”
Aomine couldn’t explain it. Not to himself, not to his teammates, not even to the vending machine he stared at with mild confusion one day, his heart fluttering in ways that had nothing to do with strawberry milk. You stood beside him, pointing out the best drink based on his post-practice sugar crash. “I-I think the peach vitamin drink might help… since you burned so many calories today…”, you said sweetly. He looked down at you. Your voice was always soft. Careful. You never pushed. You never stared at him like he was just some arrogant jock. You talked to him like he was smart, like he could be smart. You even helped him pass his last history test—and he didn’t even fall asleep once during tutoring.
“…Why are you so nice to me?” he asked suddenly. You blinked up at him, confused. “B-Because… you’re nice, too?”. He laughed—actually laughed. “No one’s ever said that to me.”
“But you are,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “You always walk me to class, and you helped that first-year carry her books last week, even though you said you didn’t want anyone to see.”
He flushed. “Y-You saw that?” You nodded shyly. “You’re very loyal, protective and you are always doing small things when you think no one notices… But I do.”
Aomine didn’t know what to do with the feeling spreading through his chest. Warm and tingly and weird. He wanted to call it something stupid like cute disease or sweetness poisoning, but all he knew was that every time you smiled at him, something in him softened.
And that terrified him. But it also made him want to hold your hand in the middle of the hallway and not care who saw. “y/n,” he mumbled, voice low. “You’re killing me, y’know that?”
You tilted your head. “I—I’m sorry—”, a apologetic tone clung to your voice. “No! I mean… in a good way. Like… I dunno what you’re doing to me, but it’s working. I wanna be better. For you.”, he explained. You blinked, heart pounding. “D-Daiki…”
Before you could respond, he took your hand and laced his fingers with yours, eyes flicking away in embarrassment.
“Just… don’t let go, okay? Ever. You’re the only one who makes me feel like… like I’m not a mess.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand, “You’re not a mess, Daiki. You’re just… a little unorganized. And incredibly lovable.”
He groaned. “Stop being cute. It’s dangerous.” You giggled. “Then stop looking at me like that.”
The next day, Aomine showed up to practice even earlier. With extra sports drinks. One labeled "For Tetsu." Another with a sticker that said "Good luck today!" in handwriting that definitely wasn’t his. And when the team saw you drop off a bento at lunch—complete with heart-shaped onigiri—and Aomine smile like an idiot while holding it like treasure, no one said a word. Except Kise, who whispered, “Bro, he’s gone. He’s so gone.”
And Aomine? He didn’t care. Not one bit. Because for once, he felt like the only one who could beat him, was you.
Kise Ryouta was used to attention. Cameras, fans, compliments—he soaked it all in with a smile and a wink. But none of that ever made his heart race. Not like you did. You, with your oversized sweater, always tucked behind a book. You, who blushed if someone so much as looked your way. You, who tutored him in math with the patience of a saint and the voice of a lullaby. And you, who somehow didn’t care that he was famous.
“____cchi~,” he hummed, sliding into the library seat beside you, ignoring the “Quiet Please” sign as he leaned closer. “What are we learning today? Algebra? Geometry? Or just... how cute you are?”
Your face immediately flushed, and you pulled your notes up to hide behind them. “Ryouta… y-you said you’d focus today.”, you aid with a serious face. He grinned. “I am focusing. On you.” You peeked over the edge of your paper, voice soft but steady. “I mean… on studying.”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, lifting his hands in surrender. “But can you blame me? You get all serious and focused and your glasses slide down your nose just a little—ugh, it’s so cute I could die.” You looked away, flustered. “You’re ridiculous…”
“And you’re amazing,” he said, a little more seriously this time. “You’re like… a genius. How are you not famous yet?”. You mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear. “What was that?” he asked, leaning in again. “I… I don’t want to be famous. I just want to help people,” you whispered. “Like helping you with math. Even if it’s just small stuff.”
Kise stared for a moment, caught off guard. No one ever said things like that to him. No expectations, no praise-hunting. Just quiet kindness. Genuine warmth. You. Suddenly, he didn’t want to flirt. He wanted to hold your hand and protect that soft heart forever. “Y’know,” he said, softer this time, “when I’m modeling, there are tons of lights. But none of them shine like you do when you’re helping someone.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “…Ryouta.” He leaned closer again, this time serious. “I’m not just saying that to be cheesy. Well, okay, I am, but I mean it too.”
You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile creeping up. “…You’re actually kind of smart when you’re not trying to flirt.”. He gasped, dramatically offended. “Did ____cchi just call me smart?! I’m putting that in my diary.”
“You don’t have a diary,” you giggled.
“I do now.”, you said. Before you could reply, he reached across the table and gently took your hand in his. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know? Even if you never realize how special you are… I do. And I’ll remind you every day if I have to.”
You looked down at your interlocked hands, your heart racing. “Okay… but only if you actually pass the math test next week.”
He beamed. “Deal. And if I pass, you owe me a reward.”
“…Like what?”, you asked. “A kiss,” he said, eyes sparkling. You buried your face in your notebook.
But you didn’t let go of his hand.
It started with a thermos bottle. A small, pastel blue one with little cat stickers on it. Kuroko opened it quietly on the bench during a break, revealing homemade cocoa with a note tucked inside. In delicate handwriting: “You did your best today. I’m proud of you. ♡ – y/n”
The entire Seirin team paused. “Wait… Kuroko,” Kagami squinted. “Did your girlfriend seriously pack you cocoa with a handwritten note?!”
“Yes,” Kuroko replied calmly, folding the note like it was sacred. “She’s real?!” Hyuuga exclaimed. “I thought you were joking!”
“Why should I???....She’s very real,” Kuroko said, taking a sip. “What is she, a literal anime character?!” Izuki cried. “Next he’ll tell us she’s super smart, shy, and very good in school.”
“She does,” Kuroko said with a soft smile. With this, the team collectively lost it.
You stood outside the gym after practice, nervously clutching a container of homemade cookies, mentally rehearsing your lines: “You worked hard today, Tetsuya.” Simple. Sweet. You could do this. When the gym doors opened, Kuroko stepped out and spotted you instantly—his usual quiet gaze softening.
“You waited for me,” he said. “I—y-yeah,” you stammered. “I brought you something. They’re um… cinnamon with a bit of chai spice. I read cinnamon helps with muscle recovery and—um—you like sweet things so…”
Before you could spiral further, Kuroko gently took your hand. “You always think so much about me,” he said softly. “Thank you.”
From the open gym doors, Seirin peeked around the corner. “OH MY GOD,” Kagami whispered. “He just—he just took her hand like it’s the most natural thing ever!”
“She’s BLUSHING,” Izuki gasped. “This is ILLEGAL. WHERE’S THE WARNING LABEL?!”. Kuroko gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re always so thoughtful y/n. I want to do something for you too.”
“M-Me?” you squeaked. He nodded. “Let me walk you home. It’s the least I can do for someone who bakes recovery cookies.” Inside the gym, the team had collapsed into a collective heap of agony. “This is too much,” Hyuuga groaned, holding his chest. “They’re too soft. I can’t take it.”
“I thought Kuroko was a shadow,” Kagami muttered. “But he’s a fuc*** sun now. Sun.”
As Kuroko walked with you under the evening sky, holding the cookie tin in one hand and your shy, trembling hand in the other, he looked at you and said, completely earnestly:
“You make everything brighter, y/n. Even basketball feels warmer.”
You nearly tripped on your own feet. Back at the gym, Koganei lay on the floor and whispered, “They’ve weaponized sweetness. We’re doomed.”
Midorima Shintarō had a schedule. A perfectly organized, color-coded, minute-by-minute schedule. It included basketball, study blocks, horoscope analysis, and—most recently—a new recurring entry: “2:45–3:00: Accidental run-in with ____-san by the vending machines.”
Not that he’d ever admit that. You, his shy, brilliant classmate, were the only person alive who could rival his grades and yet somehow still struggle with opening your own locker or dropping your calculator mid-sentence. But you had the kindest smile. And when you offered to share your color-coded flashcards for the physics exam, Midorima felt his logic center short-circuit.
“Th-That’s… acceptable,” he mumbled when you offered to compare notes. From a short distance away, Takao watched the interaction with the giddy delight of someone watching a slow-burn rom-com unfold in real life. “Oh my god,” he whispered, ducking behind a bush. “He’s BLUSHING. That’s not just normal Midorima red—it’s full romantic crimson.” Back in the gym, Takao gathered the Seirin and GOM group chat (yes, they all shared one, for better or worse).
TAKAO (to group):
Midorima’s in love. Send help. Or popcorn.
KISE:
OMG WHO IS SHE??? IS SHE CUTE?! 💛
MURASAKIBARA:
If she’s not sweet, i’m not interested.
AKASHI:
Should we...prepare a celebration?
KUROKO:
I believe they are very compatible. I’ve seen them walk together after class.
KAGAMI:
Wait, he’s dating someone before me?! What the hell! @KurokoShadow you DID????
MIDORIMA:
Delete this chat. Immediately.
And so it began: a campus-wide obsession. You and Midorima, the two top students, were often seen studying together under a tree. To others, it looked like a peaceful academic retreat. But to the GOM and the Seirin team, it looked like something out of a shoujo manga. “Look at the way she hands him her pencil like it’s a sacred relic,” Kise whispered, starry-eyed. “Look at the way he adjusts her reading glasses when they slip down,” Kuroko added. “I feel like I’m watching a National Geographic documentary about two shy deer in love,” Takao said, dropping by.
One fateful day, you nervously handed Midorima a handmade bento.
“I-It’s not much! Just a thank-you for the tutoring. And maybe also because I… really like spending time with you…”, he stammed. The GOM and Seirin, hiding behind the bushes (again), collectively gasped like it was the final scene of a romance drama. “…Does this constitute a confession?” Midorima asked carefully. “Only if you want it to!” you squeaked. “Then I do.”, he sadi. Back to the bush: “OH MY GOD,” screamed Kise. Aomine dropped his drink. “THE NERD CONFESSED?!”
“I think… I think I’m crying,” Takao sniffed. Even Murasakibara smiled a little. “They’re cute. She’s like squishy marshmallows. I like her.”. Akashi smirked. “I expect wedding invitations in a few years.”
From that moment, the two of you became something of a campus legend. Studying in the library together like a couple out of a light novel. Walking home side by side, shoulder to shoulder, with Midorima subtly adjusting your bag so it didn’t hurt your shoulder. You brought him tea before exams. He made sure you had your umbrella when it rained. Power couple. Supreme scholars. Two shy souls completely and blissfully oblivious to how disgustingly adorable they were.
“Honestly,” Aomine said, watching you two trade textbooks like love letters, “this is worse than watching Kise on Valentine’s Day.”
“They’re gonna take over the world,” Kagami muttered. “With cuteness and calculus.”. “I ship it,” Takao declared, hands on his hips. “Hard.”
Midorima sneezed somewhere across campus. “…Someone’s talking about me,” he muttered. You passed him a tissue, flustered. “M-Must be because you’re famous now…”. He paused. Looked at you.
“…Not as famous as I am for liking you.”
You turned into a blushing mess.And the Generation of Miracles? They groaned in synchronized agony. “Make it STOP,” Kise wailed. “Let them be,” Akashi said calmly. “They're unstoppable now. Academically and emotionally.”
