Here's a map to ease up your staying on my KNB blog, hope it helps. If you have authors to suggest / ideas/criticism please leave me a message in my DMs (anon are welcome if you feel shy) ! 🤍
Love always,
V.
💮Wildchild 💮
A long story. A love triangle between you, Akashi and Aomine,with hint of Kuromomo. Updated randomly.🌸[content suitable for mature audiences will be reported in the relevant chapter post]. If underage i kindly ask to skip those chapters. 🌸
❤ Reap what you sow ♠
Another long one. It is based on Akashi's prediction of an adult Daiki finally realizing the true nature of his feelings for his best friend, but also on group dynamics and more or less binding choices to which one decides to submit.
🏡 Housewarming🏡
What would happen if our best boys moved into your building? What kind of next-door neighbor would they be?
A collection of fluff one-shots starring YOU + GOM, Taiga and whoever you want (let me know in DMs and comments). The stories assume that the guys are adults (25-30 years old) and so are you. For each story I also came up with a small mood board, feel free to comment on it!
❣ The jar of kisses ❣
This project was born out of a fantasy of mine, namely to leave your loved one a jar with a series of notes that might remind him of intimate moments you shared with him, so that he does not miss you too much. Hence the cover slogan 'The kissing jar, hot but always sweet, for the days when lips cannot meet'.
⚠ This series of stories is intended for an adult audience as NSFW, so if you are not of age (18+) please do not read any of these stories. ⚠
🚗 Drive! 🚗
This serie was created after a brainstorming with some of my amazing blogfriends and readers, that's why is special to me.
I believe that means of transport are excellent vehicles for a story that tells a life moment, a feeling, an everlasting memory for one reason or another.
If our guys are behind the wheel, even better!
🧸 Heartstrings 🧸
The softest scenarios where our knb boys are the most cuddly of dads for your babies!
🥂 Collaborations 🥂
One shots stories for events and friend's blog.
🔐 Vesper' specials 🔑
Oneshots on festive or special days, small gifts to celebrate all together!
🎄Christmas
💘 Valentine's Day
🏣 Drabbles Central 🏣
Got an idea? Send me a DM and let's write it down together!
🍪Knb sources 🧋
Authors and blogs I love.
👩🔧 Blog credits 👩🔧
All characters related to the worlds of KNB are the property of author Tadatoshi Fujimaki.
Stories imagines are from free sources or authorized ones, if not unless otherwise specified.
Dividers are from: /@dollcez, /@firefly-graphics, /@silkholland/@strangergraphics
I reblog illustrator/ authors content with the original tag, please let me know if any credit is incorrect or missing
A Knb long story featuring you, Akashi Seijūrō, Aomine Daiki with hints of KuroMomo.
Comments, constructive criticism and advices are so welcome and appreciated; my dm box is open and I won’t cancel comments unless they are insulting.
The characterisation of the personalities was inspired by the canons and works of the following Tumblr authors, whom I thank in advance: you are a great source of inspiration.
All characters belong to their respective authors, they are used for writing purposes only.
[content suitable for mature audiences will be reported in the relevant chapter post].
1
The familiar sight of Earl grey tea, its deep orange warmth, the delicate smell of bergamot filling your nostrils as the waitress smiles at you, gracing her way of serving you the perfectly blended drink.
A small moment of pure bliss.
"It won't need sugar, will it?" he says, in that gentle tone that wins everyone's heart, and, after those crazy years, maybe yours too.
You smile at him and nod, thanking the girl who leaves you alone at the breakfast table of the beautiful manor house.
"I'm going to miss this garden so much," you acknowledge, turning your gaze to the French window that leads directly into that corner of paradise where the two of you usually spend your free time discussing art, music and life.
“Stay then”, he suggests with a small smile on his lips, because he knows how inflexible your resolutions are once made, but he still loves to tease you, sure he can easily turn the tables on you if he really needs to.
After all, he has chosen you since Teiko's time to be his muse not only because of your impeccable demeanour and undisputed musical talent, but mostly because he couldn't tame or understand your way of thinking.
"I'll miss you too Seijūrō" you smile faintly, returning your attention to him.
The handsome boy shakes his head lightly as his magenta gaze reaches the right page of the morning paper, where his father's company has announced the annual program of the "Shiori Akashi Foundation" gala night.
"Has he accepted our final project?" you ask, closing your eyes briefly as you sip the delicious drink, ready to listen to his smooth voice.
Akashi's expression switches from a slight frown to something undetectable, a mix of so many emotions alternating in his mind that even he, the king of self-control, got lost in the translation process.
He blinks twice, his hands letting go of his grip on the thin inked paper falling onto the table, then he covers the smirk on his face with one hand as he stares blankly in your direction.
What the hell is going on?
Why are his eyes suddenly burning with that sinister light again?
"Seij" you call back to him, intertwining your pale fingers with his long ones and under your tender touch he seems to rejoice, the ghost of his dark shadow being chased away like leaves in the warm spring breeze.
"Ma fille prodige!" he announces, letting go of your hand and coming closer to show you the result of your plan. You almost choke on your tea as his sensual scent reaches your core, your skin can feel a sudden weave of heat caused by his proximity: sensations you've learned to master over those years of rehearsals and confidential talks but at the same time vibes you can't deny or get used to.
"Here, darling," his gentle voice invites your eyes to read the paper, although they don't want to follow anything but the bright expression on his face, his velvety red pools full of unanticipated joy, his lips curved into a playful, almost childlike smile. You lean back just to get closer to him as he puts his right hand on your shoulder and drags the chair close to yours, still focused on his target.
"I think you were right... He couldn't treat you the way he treats me, that's why we're going to have our concert just the way we imagined it," he announces, still stunned by the result of your previous encounter with his powerful but intimidating parent.
"I didn't do anything special," you reply, "I just told him that celebrating your mother's life through her son's happiness is one of the highest forms of love, and I mean that, so basically I was just being myself. No need to thank me, you see?" you stumble over your own words, as your brain refuses to function properly now that he's a breath away.
" It's you, it's all because of you my precious" he breathes softly "Thank you with all my heart, it means a lot to me," he continues, taking your hand in his, squeezing it a little to seal the moment, enjoying the sight of your flushed face.
"Sei I..." you hold your breath as he lifts his hand to your temple to caress your head gently, unaware of the risk he's taking.
Your lips curve upwards, your eyes widen and the sudden idea of grabbing him by the back of the head and locking his lips into yours was more than real in your intentions, if it wasn't for a double knock on the door that broke the spell.
"Come forward!" he raised his voice, not moving from his position.
"Young master, Miss, good morning," the butler announced himself "The car to the train station is ready at any time," he concluded, closing the door behind him.
"Time to go back to Tokyo and get your award" the young man points out, putting some space among you to scan your emotionless expression for some clue.
"It's just a graduation ceremony," you huff, leaving your chair and walking towards the window to carve the image of the flowering garden in the clear morning light into your mind.
You hear his footsteps as he approaches, his gaze fixed on you.
"Did I say something wrong ?" he asks, leaning his back against the window pane to make sure he has your full attention.
“It's just that I really, really don't want to go home," you answer reluctantly, tightening your shoulders.
"You have a chance to inspire someone to be like you, and people like me need people like you" he smiles, ignoring the knocks on the door.
"Seji, don't use your charm on me, you know being good at music is hardly a point" you smile crossing your arms over your chest, casting a resigned glance at the door.
The young man looks deeply into your eyes and reduces the distance between you two, lowering his voice, his warm lips so close to your skin it makes you shiver."Come back soon, that's the point," he finishes quickly, whispering in your ear as an embarrassed butler coughs to disclose his presence in the room.
2
Okazaki,
Hamamatsu,
Shizuoka,
Tokyo.
Estimated journey time, approximately 2 hours 48 minutes, under current weather conditions.
The Shinkansen's loudspeakers repeat this in an endless refrain.
You sit down in the spot indicated to you by a kind stewardess in white gloves, thank an attentive passenger who offers to put your small luggage in the hatbox next to his, and inhale. From the bag on your shoulder, your hands extract a notebook, your mobile phone and wireless headphones, which now form a sort of technological still life on the table in front of you. You smile as you turn down an invitation to have coffee at the dining room car just to discourage the logorrhoea of your travelling neighbour who retires in good order.
3 hours to try to find peace for what for anyone else would have been a festive occasion, but for you takes on the status of a test of courage.
3 hours to figure out how to get around the city where you grew up, but where now only the ghosts of your former life remain.
You check your bag again and hold in your hand a raggedy ribbon to which are attached three keys scaled in weight and shape. You smile, because your grandmother gave them to you on the first day of junior high school, as a celebration of your entering adulthood.
"When I'm gone, I'll leave this house to you" she often told , and so it was, even though no one had lived in the building for almost two years, since your world had decided to crumble under your feet.
The loss of your grandmother, the divorce of your parents and that injury that had almost cost you your future had pushed you towards Kyoto, where Seiji had offered you a comfortable life, far away from the dramas of Tokyo, far away from the disappointments of everyday life and above all far away from all the explanations that you would have had to give to justify your lack of courage to her, who even though she loved you like a sister, would never have understood your choice.
You smile at your mobile phone, because quite by accident, she has just sent you an email full of pictures of your old school, and in a precise order, "in case you don't remember where the gym is anymore".
"Satsuki" you slowly mumble her name, earning a smirk from your seat neighbour who now, along with his coffee, has a good enough reason to trap you in an endless conversation.
You express your thanks and take another bite, only not to let slip a sarcastic remark at yet another unfortunate comment by the hostess.
"What I'm saying, is that my daughter can't think of investing all her time in a hobby when she should be focusing on the direction she has to take her life. She could take an example from you and build a future for herself, instead of wasting her days behind the whims of Shinichi's son and that basketball team," the young woman concludes by bringing her arms to her chest for more authority, shifting her gaze from the face of the old lady sitting next to her to yours in seeking approval.
'Some things will never change' you think as you lower your wands and inhale, looking for a gentle way to silence her now that, like every other night, she has turned into her daughter's worst detractor.
You respond to the smile on Satsuki's beautiful face that with that simple gesture invites you to let it go, you can already imagine her shrugging her shoulders later telling you that she didn't even notice, that her mother and grandmother sometimes misspeak, and other innocent lies she tells herself to cope with the pressure she is subjected to every day. She who, like you, has sacrificed everything for her passion but who, unlike you, is mocked and who, despite everything, does not lose her optimism or her hopes. Sa-chan who protects anyone who thinks she can be misunderstood, Sa-chan who can never see people's pettiness nor claim loudly what is hers, and for that she is criticized.
What kind of friend would you be if you agreed to that?
"With all due respect, your daughter isn't doing anything different from what I've been doing all these years" you explain "You see, if I hadn't entered Kunitachi my whole future would have been jeopardized, because it's true that I'm only interested in playing, but unlike Satsuki, I don't know how to do anything else" you conclude, drawing Momoi's grandmother's bored gaze on you.
"Kyoto has made you quite talkative," she says, twisting her mouth a little to disguise the dislike she has always harboured for you.
"Would you like to give me some good advice obachan?" you ask amiably, taking a sip of water, sure that your provocation has not gone unnoticed.
"I think it's time to go for a bath, we have a meeting to attend tomorrow," the pink haired girl interjects, suggesting you follow her to her room to avoid further confrontation.
When you close the door, one look is enough for you to burst out laughing in perfect unison.
You had forgotten so many things about her: how easy it was to be close to her, how soft her hair and skin were, but above all how comfortable you felt in her presence, sure that she would always read your gestures without malice.
"I've missed you so much," she tells you as soon as you embrace her and you know it's true because you can't stop feeling that childlike love feeling that has united you since your first meeting.
You kiss her on the cheeks and she blushes, just like she always has, you sit on her bed and for a moment time goes back, to stop at some day in your lives, just "before".
"Well?" she asks you, clasping her knees against each other, her hands to her face and her mind already on the gentle face of her first love.
"I don't think there is a more adorable man than him!" you inform her with a smile "He even gave me a present, wait!" you conclude, moving towards the travel bag that lies at the foot of the desk chair, from which you pull out your diary which you open to reveal that little treasure. Momoi smiles, turning in her hands the picture of three smiling children in front of a white piano.
"Testu-kun's mother used to let us all play together after the lessons, remember?" she asks you, giving you back that little treasure that you put on her lap, sure that it means much more to her than to you.
"You've come a long way since then. It took time, but that's all it took," you smile at her, finding that worried look in her eyes that requires you to change the subject quickly if you don't want to find yourself talking about him.
You let your back go on the soft mattress and stretch, hoping that your friend will change her worried expression into something more reassuring; then you start talking again, if only to break that silent wall you're afraid will set between you.
"I think this picture should stay here, where the ancient temple dedicated to Kuroko Testuya stands, high priestess Satsuki!" you tell her. "Let's find a good place for it among the other heirlooms!" you conclude with a smile, because you still remember exactly where all your childhood secrets are kept.
You get up and head for her desk, but you know she's not listening, caught up as she is in that thought that's been brooding all afternoon.
"Wait, please, sit down," she tells you before you can even take a step, "Is it true what you wrote to me in your last email?" she pauses, lowering her eyes for a moment and then resuming what for her must be one of the most difficult speeches she's ever had.
"Is it true that you and Akashi-kun..." she concludes, letting the words die in mid-sentence, ready to study every tiny expression on your face.
"No, Satsu" you tell her simply " He's already committed and I'm not one to get in the way" you explain, hoping her expression changes, but paradoxically it only gets more confused.
"You don't have feelings for him, right?" she asks you, her intense eyes roaming your face. You tighten your lips and can't bring yourself to smile and downplay it, because she's already read you like the simplest of books.
You can see her annoyance.
Her hands clenched into fists, her lips pressed against each other, her eyes almost glazed over with the bitter disappointment of your words that ruin her expectations for the future.
Why couldn't you keep quiet? What did you think you would gain by sharing your thoughts about Akashi with her?
"Sa-chan" you start, but she doesn't leave you any time.
"Explain it to me" she asks you adamantly "Explain it to me in detail because I don't understand it and I don't see, in fact, how this can be possible!" she concludes, uncomfortably brushing her hair behind her ears.
"It just happened" you begin, shrugging your shoulders "Sei is so kind, polite and charming... It was natural to start feeling something different, but as I told you..." you try to finish your explanation, but she has moved away to pick up a silver frame from the desk that holds a familiar picture to you.
"I really need to understand, explain it to me" she repeats, letting the cold and heavy object slip into your lap, which you slowly scan with your eyes.
The basketball court near your house, the dark blue rubberized floor and two people in the middle of the scene. They are sitting on the ground, close together. She is dressed in white, a light dress that reveals her knees and shoulders, posing for the camera.
He does not care about the photograph, busy as he is contemplating her face, either to tease her, or as if he was afraid not to see her anymore and wanted to build a mental map of her features. He has one hand on the basketball between his crossed legs, the other resting on the floor, next to the girl's.
You only have to look at his expression, at his lips folded into a half-smile to feel his amber skin again, so warm next to yours, his deep voice in your ear that becomes a sigh when your breaths meet.
The memory of him dwells there, silent, in a deep part of you, where it is nourished by desires never expressed,that you thought you had isolated between the quiet brackets of distance. You can decide to ignore it, but as soon as you let your guard down, its presence claims your every thought, redirects your every priority, makes you relive every reminescence in function of that person you want to forget but to whom you do not want to stop belonging.
You look away to get away from your fantasies, but reality doesn't seem any easier to deal with.
"Satsuki, I..." you begin, but all you can do is turn that old photo so that it's no longer in front of your eyes. Your friend gets close to you, because she's already figured it out.
"I can't let you do this," she tells you, speaking as gently as a mother consoling her child after a nightmare.
"I don't want to hear you say that," you whisper, letting her hands caress your head.
"It would be such a mess, the worst kind of betrayal," she repeats, making sure she has your attention. "Is Akashi Seijūrō really worth that much?" she inquires, pulling her warm hands away from your face and crossing them over her chest.
"It's worth it to the point where it makes me feel loved, understood and needed. He means everything when your best friend is four hours away from you and answers e-mails in her spare time. He can pick up on my discomfort even just from the inflection of my voice and he is there. He is always there: no matter how long and tiring his day has been, no matter how busy he is or where he is. Seijūrō Akashi is always with me, for me only.No blackmail or punishment will make me put this person aside, I will no more make the mistake of relying on someone who does not care about me" you finish, underlining the last words.
You see her bring a hand to her watering eyes. You know she is bitterly sad, you know you have woken her abruptly from that dream she has been cradling for as long as she can remember, but you cannot continue to fool her.
You will not follow through with a story based on someone elses’ needs.
"He's going to break down," your friend replies.
"Whether it is, you can't protect him forever, Satsuki" you point out to her, getting a long sigh as answer.
You remain for a few minutes next to each other engulfed in that silence you so despise, until the hostess remembers her first intention. You hear her leave to gather her things for the bathroom, you follow her with your eyes as she moves around the room to stop on the threshold to wait for you, again with that broken glance in her eyes.
"What hurts me is that I did it on purpose. I thought he would understand, I thought he would listen to me when I told him about your life in Kyoto, I thought he would take action sooner or later. I did everything I could to make you feel lonely because deep inside I hoped you would crack at some point, giving me the illusion that I was right, but you know what? I'm not, and that makes me sick,' she concludes, sobbing.
You should retrieve a change of underwear and something to wear for the night from your travel bag, but all you can do is reach out to hug her. The tighter you hold, the guiltier you feel, the more you search for something to say, the more Tetsuya's words ring in your mind.
You close your eyes and see him again, a few hours earlier, as he walks you to his girlfriend's house and asks you to listen carefully to what he is about to say.
"You and Aomine-kun should stop dragging Satsuki into this. I will no longer tolerate you using her as a battleground, if you love her find a way and end this ridiculous feud, or leave her for good, because she's in too much pain and I can't allow that."
He was so different from the usual nice guy you were used to know, the commanding tone he used to express his point of view gave you goosebumps. For the first time you are speechless in front of his blue eyes, mortified by his blunt but truthful words.
"I'll fix it, leave it to me," you pledge once again, surrendering to what seems to be your fate.
Light blue eyes turned into warm brown eyes again.
“Please, do” is all she can reply.
You wipe the last tear from your friend's cheek and smile at her, telling yourself that she alone is worth trying one more time.
🔅Grab your drinks (and sunscreen too), it's time to start to look at those new hunks on the block! 🌡🌡
🎊 Today, to celebrate our beloved Shintaro's birthday, I thought it would be a good idea to put him through his hectic medical life.
Will you be able to get his attention?
Will the planets be well aligned according to Oha-Asa's horoscope?
More than that, where's the cake? 🎂
💚 Happy birthday Shintaro! 💚
Who's gonna be next? (hint: a Gemini King💛)
💋PS: If any of you amazing authors would like to contribute with original work to this series, that would be a dream for me. Please send me the link and tag me so I won't miss any stories, and use the #knbhousewarming , as the platform sometimes gets crazy.
💣PPS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).
➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.
🏡 Housewarming Masterlist🏡
Boston, Massachusetts,
Saturday 18:45 ET
A clear October evening.
That you were the best in the firm was a given, just as it was a given that the profiles of the most demanding, fussy and obnoxious clients were punctually assigned to you because you had never failed to find them the perfect home.
It certainly wouldn't have been him who had brought down your self-esteem, nor the entire office's trust in you. If only your client had at least deigned to answer emails or phone calls, maybe things would not have dragged on so long, making your boss impatient.
You were really wasting too much time on the whims of the doctor.
You had scanned the entire city looking for a space that could meet his absurd standards, you had had to mark the builder down to get the keys to that flat that had just been finished, you had begged, threatened, seduced him until, moved to pity, he had granted you a preview for a week but that monster client of yours, had systematically postponed your appointment, as if nothing had happened, claiming one work engagement after another.
"I can't predict the flow in the emergency room, there are priorities in life " he had commented in his monotone voice with his characteristic snottiness.
What a nerve, what a nuisance, what a boor.
He was always looking down on you, and not just because he was incredibly tall and athletic, but just for the sake of giving you unsolicited life lessons. You could see how much he enjoyed rejecting your every proposal. You already knew that a flat would not be to his taste as soon as he moved his long, elegant fingers from his glasses and his incredible green eyes sought yours.
"Too small"
"Too big"
"Badly exposed"
"Noisy"
" Too far away from the workplace"
Diagnosis.
With him, houses turn into a heap of irredeemable defects, as if your efforts were worthless, as if he was too smart for you, too much in general. He didn't even spare a glance at you. Not even when, to provoke him, you had worn your infallible suit you were able to grasp his attention.
And now this too.
"I won't go into detail, but we have to reschedule, I've been called away on an urgent matter" he tells you, not even listening to your remarks.
The perfect house tomorrow will be for sale, and you not only risk making the worst impression in your whole life by not having concluded the sale despite the preview, but he will remain like an indelible stain on your white shirt of infallibility.
"I have found the solution that meets all your demands and I intend to show it to you tonight. Call me at any time, I will pick you up straight away from the hospital" you propose, in a peremptory tone.
"It will be late, certainly after nine o'clock " he replies annoyed.
"I will also bring you dinner if you need it, but we have to see that house tonight, doctor !" you cut it short, waiting for him to finish giving instructions to his colleagues and pay attention to you.
"As you like, call you back " he snorts and hangs up.
What a big boor.
A few blocks away, Dr. Midorima's day was about to take the worst possible direction. An accident on the motorway had brought traffic to its knees, ambulances came and went and unfortunately for some innocent drivers, nothing could be done. After his last phone call with the police, he put down the receiver of the doctor's office telephone, and told himself that his day had been hard enough. He was actually looking for the strength to contact you, the furious girl from the real estate agency, to stand you up again but the mere thought of it made him feel guilty. He was tired of living in a hotel room, and he was tired of coming across as an obnoxious and icy man, especially with you, who had tried so hard to comply with his every request.
What a bizarre person fate had made him meet. He remembered that you were of the sign of Scorpio, just like his great friend Takao, and perhaps that was why he found you just as annoying. He had never met a woman like you : as sweet in appearance as determined in reality. He had been fooled by your large, bright eyes, your polite manners even when your patience was tested, your spontaneous smile when a detail of the house you had selected for him, met his taste.
No, he could not disappoint your expectations this time either.
He pulled his mobile phone out of his coat pocket and was pleased to discover that your proposal from a few hours earlier, was still valid. He changed quickly, buttoned his long dark blue coat, put on his leather gloves and a cashmere scarf, and was ready to leave. When he arrived in front of the hospital park, he was surprised to see you at the wheel of your car with a big smile on your lips. It was now past ten o'clock, the evening was cold and clear, but there didn't seem to be any snow yet. The ideal evening not to be alone with your thoughts, not to think about the past with melancholy.
A little human warmth after a devastating day, was all he needed.
"Dr. Midorima, I'm sure I won't let you down this time!" she said as you buckle your seatbelt, making you laugh.
"I'm not here to give you a grade, I'm here to find a place to stay in" you had told her sounding overly arrogant, but she seemed so happy that you were there, that she hadn't paid any attention and started listing the many benefits of her discovery.
It was a journey that lasted about ten minutes, mostly spent talking about trivialities, your hands clinging to the steering wheel as if it were the last lifeboat on the Titanic, your attention at its best trying to avoid even the slightest smear that might compromise the opinion that this demanding man had surely formed of you.
You had never felt this way before, you had never met such a picky, charming client and the fact that you had spent the last two hours fantasising about all sorts of romance with him in the hospital car park, had probably not helped your peace of mind. It had taken you a while to admit it, but as soon as you had put the handsome doctor next to you, instead of in the middle of every available flat in the area, everything had become clear. Hence that strange feeling now that you were standing side by side in the large lift of the elegant apartment complex, heading for flat 505.
You are so flustered that your fingers seem to get knotted so that ,to avoid dropping your dinner on the floor in an attempt to pass the takeaway flap from one hand to the other, you drop the builder's large set of keys on the floor.
"Let me help you " he offers, reassuring you with a brief smile before asking you which key was the correct one for the heavy metal security door. As he opens the door and gives way to you, you can't help but think that this work appointment might seem like a romantic date to strangers. You thank him and are about to turn on the light, when you feel his fingers stop yours on the switch, probably struck by the same sight that immediately catches your attention. In the industrial loft, all red brick and steel, the view of the city is breathtaking. The large living room window focuses the gaze to the sea of lights from both the city and the harbour , creating a unique, almost dreamy atmosphere.
The large space of the kitchen remains in semi-darkness, revealing the light parquet floor, the shiny steel surfaces and the large workbench where you put down the envelope from 'Legal Seafoods', from which you picked up what will be your dinner, but which he does not seem to care about.
You smile as you see his tall, elegant figure standing out like a shadow as he observes the landscape, his coat swaying slightly, his shoulders broad, his long arms along his sides, like a romantic pirate saying goodbye to his homeland before an adventure, but also like a child watching the Christmas lights for the first time.
"What an amazing sight " he smiles at you, a smile so spontaneous, warm and grateful that you can't help but blush vividly.
"That's why I wanted you to see it" you agree, thanking the dimness that allows you not to reveal that moment of weakness of yours.
"Shall we turn on the lights?" he asks you and you nod, pretending you care to show him the features of the house. After all that is a business appointment, that ends to the client's great satisfaction in the canonical hour you usually reserve for visits.
You feel sad, because when he tells you to arrange the papers, you know your daydream is coming to an end.
Or maybe not.
"What did you bring me for dinner?" he suddenly asks you, noticing the takeaway box on the kitchen table.
" Lobster roll, the Boston way to say 'Welcome in town' !" you inform him proudly, reaching over to hand him a carefully packed wrapper, which he looks at in your hands, but does not accept.
"Don't you like lobster?" you ask with a hint of concern, because things have gone far too smoothly at that point.
"Lobster is fine, but let's get it right " he tells you as he passes you to turn off the lights again. You don't object when, having retrieved your dinner, his hand takes yours and guides you towards the large window. He asks you to hold the bag in your hands, and with an effortless movement he takes off his coat, which ends up on the floor to serve as a blanket for your improvised picnic. He holds out his arm and seats you, then sits down next to you, dividing his attention between you and the view.
"Thank you for finding me a place where I can feel at home, I will always owe you one " he tells you in such a sweet tone that you feel your heart skipping a beat.
"It was my pleasure, Dr. Midorima " you smile at him, moving your hand and involuntarily touching his.
"Shintaro, please call me Shintaro " he reveals to you, bringing his fingers between yours.
"You'll have to invite me to dinner to clear your debt, then, Shintaro" you disclose smoothly, observing his handsome face once more. Green orb staring lovely at your lips, his silky hair pulled behind his ears, his soft lips curved up in such a tender smile.
"You already know where I'm gonna live, feel free to come over anytime !" he invites you, dissolving your contact with a light kiss on your knuckles.
Your mind told you that you were wasting too much time on the whims of doctor Midorima , but your heart...
Your heart had only seen Shintaro from day one, even behind that cold and indifferent surface.
After all, you were the girl who never failed to find the perfect home to perfect strangers, how can you go wrong with yours ?
the second issue of the 'Housewarming' series pays tribute to my Gemini king brother Ryota☀️, due to a kind request which I am happy to comply with (because i love you and you deserve all).
Don't tell Aominecchi, but how adorable is Kise? 😇💝
Not to mention how talented he is!
Is there anything he's not good at?
For this story I was inspired by a misadventure that happened to yours truly, which ended in a much less amusing way, alas! 🤦♀️
📮Comments, criticism, sharing and like are so appreciated!📮
Follow the #knbhousewarming or #housewarmingbyvesper to find all the entries, or just ask for a tag I'd be glad to add you.
Who's gonna be next? (🎎hint: He's charming, polite, a true prince. If it's the right one obvs).
Thanks to the lovely reader that Dm me to request it, hope you'll find it interesting.
Love always,
V.
💋PS: If any of you amazing authors would like to contribute with original work to this series, that would be a dream for me. Please send me the link and tag me so I won't miss any stories, and use the #knbhousewarming , as the platform sometimes gets crazy.
💣PPS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).
➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.
🏡 Housewarming Masterlist🏡
Ota district, Tokyo.
Wednesday 2.10 p.m. (ET+13)
A sunny May afternoon.
Your life had changed, since he had moved into the small family-run apartment building complex you had always called home.
Your friends and acquaintances couldn't wait to plan evenings at your place, found any excuse to come and say hello at odd hours, and had become as affectionate as awkward, since that blond angel had taken up residence in the flat above yours.
After all, you and your ordinary life could never have had the same attractiveness as the dazzling light his name implies.
Ryota Kise was not only a nationally renowned athlete, but had been a famous model, until he had left droves of whimpering admirers at the announcement of his retirement from the scene, to focus on his aviation career.
How could anyone be so flawless?
Where was the blemish in that blaze of perfection?
Being self-loathing, you thought to yourself, until the evening of the condo meeting came, he showed up smiling and polite, bringing treats and delicious food for everyone, amiably talking to people and dispensing smiles and thanks for the warm welcome.
Needless to say, the jewelled ladies of your floor were already doting on him, feeling a lethal mix of maternal affection and adolescent crush, by which they were reporting you his every move in detail, especially those involving the female sex; perhaps forgetting that you could hear who was in the newcomer's house, just by sitting at the kitchen table for lunch.
In the six weeks leading up to that day, however, the idol of the building had led a particularly boring life, punctuated by intense work shifts and moderate physical activity, that allowed you to meet him casually in the building's lobby, and just as casually exchange small kindnesses and superficial remarks.
No romantic nights, no suspicious movements, as confirmed even by the ladies on the first floor. The only exception is that random Saturday a month, when his flat would turn into the den of basketball fanatics. Before your eyes parade a row of top-tier hunks, his friends, who just like him, were unaware of the jolt of lust they were giving the whole building.
On the other hand, your friends competed to guess on which Saturday that masculine display of wonder would appear, the jewelled ladies booked hairdressers and freshened up their most flamboyant outfits, so as not to be outdone.
And then there was you, who as ever, didn't know what to do.
"Are you stupid? Take those ten steps and ask them for sugar and offer him everything!" was the solution that was repeated to you over and over again, like the refrain of a bad summer song.
A song you didn't even know how to play.
Ryota sighed, because it always ended like this.
"Come on man, you know I only get 10 days off a month!" he snorted, because Daiki may have become an adult, but he still has the same urge to torment him, that he had in Teiko days. "What do you want in return? A dinner at Hatsune Sushi? A date with a hostess?" he huffs, trying to convince him to join for a one-on-one over the weekend.
He looked at the laundry basket and while listening to his pal's bitching, decided to throw some stuff in the washing machine. He adds the soap that slips out of his hands, but it doesn't matter, he likes his clothes soft and scented .
He pressed the start button and was ready to process that wacky request.
"WHAT? My flatmate neighbour? I know she's hella cute, but how am I supposed to introduce her to you, if she barely says hello to me?" he asks, catching his friend's cheeky laugh in response.
He gives in, because he's too tired to lose any more precious minutes of sleep, says goodbye to his mate, and heading for the bedroom, quickly undresses and throws himself in his underwear on his very soft bed, with its fresh crisp cotton sheets, cuddled by the warm light filtering through the window.
He sinks his face into the pillow and smiles, because Aominecchi is always the same jerk, but he has good taste, indeed. Too bad, you were such a difficult aim to achieve, even for small talking.
In those few chance encounters on the common stairs, you always declined his help, even when the shopping bags were obviously too heavy for you. Maybe it was your way of telling him to keep his distance, maybe you saw something in him that turned you off, maybe....
He huffs and turns on his back.
He looks up at the ceiling, at the light grey wall and at his cacti collection, waving happily at him from their sunny shelf by the window, and he begins to wonder.
He wonders if you like cacti.
He wonders what type you are, actually.
All he knew was that he was incredibly attracted to you, to that slightly wistful air, and to your gracefulness in moving your little body. He loved to watch the sway of your hips, as he followed you up the stairs, but somehow he felt he needed to know more, much more about you.
What you like to sing in the shower, what you like to talk about, if you would like to sleep in someone's arms, because he would like to be that someone so badly.
You are physically under his feet and yet he is the one who feels crushed.
And now Daiki comes along with his teasing demand.
He closes his eyes and tells himself that he will find a solution later, because now he's really too drowsy, and the sound of the washing machine in the background, with its monotonous rhythm, takes him to dreamland.
You take a sip of coffee, you're drinking it down because you don't feel like going back to those damn accounting sheets. Columns of numbers, fees for which your clients will complain and you will obviously have to put on a good face.
But there is something else that bothers you.
A background noise, low but constant, like a ticking clock that loses its rhythm, a noise that you have never heard before, and that probably doesn't even exist.
You get up and go to the bathroom to freshen up your face, you look in the mirror and from the reflected image you see that something is wrong. From the ceiling a large damp cloud is causing a trickle of water to drip down the wall, which has already become a puddle on the floor tiles. You close your eyes, rub them with your hand and open them again, because it might be all a fantasy, but unfortunately the image does not change. You rush out of the bathroom, out of your apartment, run up the stairs and ring his doorbell, but no one answers.
You knock hard against the dark wood until your knuckles ache, and after a few seconds the door opens and you find yourself in front of the most handsome man you have ever seen, dressed only in his underwear, with an expression resulting from a deep sleep that has been interrupted by your urgency.
"What's going on?" he tells you in a semi aware state, dragging out the words, his voice hoarse from sleep sends your imagination into overdrive. You look straight at his fuzzy, sultry, deep eyes trying to ignore his broad shoulders, his perfect collarbones, his sculpted pectorals from which, like a road to paradise, the gaze is taken to his tight abdomen. He’s wrinkling his hair and then brings the same hand to his sculpted tummy casually, as snaps you a puzzled look, while with the other hand he opens fully the front door, in a silent invitation to enter.
"The bathroom " you stammer, blushing wildly as he turns his delicious back , showing you his whole powerful frame . You follow him inside that house full of light and plants, where the dark tones of the rough wood match the light grey tones of the walls and the touches of green of the foliage.
"Sure, you can use the bathroom " he smiles at you, oblivious to the fact that he is half naked and you are dressed in a pair of ridiculous house shorts and a T-shirt full of stars and hearts, that you yourself painted in junior high.
"I don't have to use it, but..." you try not to choke, thanking your lucky stars when you see him retrieve a white T-shirt from a chaise longue in the room he led you to, and put it on by sliding it elegantly over his shoulders.
"I don't think I understand " he tells you, shifting his attention to the most significant detail of the bathroom.
Foam, lots of foam.
A sea of foam and water everywhere, now that all the warning lights of the washing machine are on and flashing like bat-signals in the eternal night of Gotham City.
"Geez, now I see!" he continues, walking past you and recommend to move to his bedroom, worried that you might get wet and dirty. All done with that wonderful smile of his, which immediately puts you at ease and makes you catch the funniest part of that paradoxical situation. He stands tall and handsome, studying what needs to be done, biting his lower lip, not looking particularly worried or concerned.
"I can fly a plane but apparently I can't do laundry!" he mocks himself, beckoning you to the threshold of the room.
"All that perfection was just too much" you agree, smiling sweetly at him, and when he looks at you with his golden eyes, you feel that your heart is unlikely to belong to you again any soon.
He laughs, laughs like a child, as he dips his feet into that disaster and retrieves all the towels he has from the bathroom wardrobe, reaching towards the appliance and almost losing his balance, so much so, that you rush to his rescue, preventing him from a hard fall.
You find yourself huddled in the middle of that disaster, unsteady on your own feet, indifferent to the fact that someone should turn off that monster that keeps on regurgitating foam. It's just too bad that you start to like that situation, perhaps because pressed against him, with his strong arms around your waist, his snow-white skin and his eyes in yours, Ryota becomes more and more attractive.
"There's only one bright side to this whole thing " he informs you softly, bringing his long fingers to the nape of your neck to play slowly with your hair.
"That our baths will smell of Marseille soap for eternity?" you try to downplay, but he has such a tender expression on his face that you can't help but tremble, as he brings you closer to him, to confide a secret in your ear.
"You can't run away. This time I'm gonna get your attention, finally!" he whispers, leaving a kiss on your temple and then reaching out to do the same on your face, closing his soft and warm lips on yours.
In the midst of a sea of foam and water, lulled by the red lights of the washing machine's warning lights, you had never been so grateful that this blond angel , who had taken up residence in the flat above yours and had in a short time become the idol of the entire building, wasn’t flawless at all.
🔞 If you're not 18 years old I kindly ask you to skip this chapter🔞
❌ I'm gonna check your age on your pages so please be sure to put it clearly if you're 18+ (useless to say I'm not an officer, but as author i feel responsible for what i publish, so let's keep it nice and fair).❌
It's a pretty challenging and embarassing process, i really feel gratitude towards all the authors that traced the way before me.
🔅In this specific case i have to thank @touchstarvedirl for coming up with headcanons that really where game changer for me (see her series "Needy" and "Mealtime") , and my love @storyhuntress13 for our vibe check routine.🔅
Any feedback is welcome! If you want to get tagged to see the updates, just tell me!
The boy reopened his eyes several hours later, awoken by the enormous amount of light filtering through your bedroom window, which neither of you had bothered to darken. He tried to ignore the strange liquid sensation that had begun to tickle every fibre of his body since his eyes had rested on you, still asleep by his side, so helpless and yet so desirable. Seeing your small hand on his forearm, he was certain you had watched over him for a few hours before you fell asleep. Daiki was thankful for the unusually mild night that had pulled the sheets away from you, and now gave you the opportunity to observe your figure in its explicit sensuality.
Guided only by his feelings, he thought you were perfect, so perfect that his eyes could not stop contemplating you, even though his mind and body were bent with the desire for contact. Slowly he moved up from your small feet to the thighs that your nightgown, with its mischievous draping had revealed, and then again from your slightly parted lips to the curve of your neck that invited him to look further, towards your breasts so round and firm that, the mere thought of touching them, awakened his lower abdomen. He swallowed, moving slowly to rest his back against the head of the bed, hoping that from that position, the partial view would allow the blood to stop concentrating all in one spot, but this only ended up getting him into even worse trouble, as he found himself in front of your sleep-veiled gaze that, once again, had caused all his senses to stir. He saw you closing your eyes and smiling, as his hand caressed your cheek, your lips emitting a faint greeting before your eyes opened again, to see why you did not speak to her.
She had no time to ask you anything, nor did her hand ever reach out, stopped by your warm lips that from knuckle to fingertip, palm to wrist, were making their intention clear.
"Come, let's sleep some more" she invited you in a half-voice, welcoming your body that eclipsed hers. He feels you, as you move your bare legs to bring one down to his side and the other between his own, in contact with his tingling manhood. He heard the rustle of your nightgown against his abdomen, noticed your hair being moved to make way for his head, her face turned to yours, her eyes glued to yours, like that evening on the patio of that house, a few years ago. Her small hand lazily caressed the nape of your neck, occasionally lingering to trace circles on your shoulder.
"You're making it so fucking hot on purpose, aren't you?" you whimpered, pressing your lips to the base of her neck so that the vibration of your voice would tickle her skin.
"Am I?" she chuckled, shifting imperceptibly, just enough to increase the pressure between your legs and snatch a sigh.
"Come here" you breathe into her mouth, kissing her greedily, your body rising onto hers, your hands tracing her outline with increasing pressure, guiding her frame under yours, kissing every inch of exposed skin.
Everything your lips touch becomes warm, soft, moist in a spiral from which you emerge only to catch your breath. You watch her as she quivers under each of your caresses, silently asking you to continue your sweet feeding.
You hear her breath break, as you slip off your shirt, and help her undo her nightgown that ends up somewhere on the floor. Now it is your breath that snaps in front of her snow-white skin, on which a constellation of tiny moles appears, framing her left breast, so soft and round, a private invitation to caress her with your tongue up to her navel and from there back to her face, blowing on the secret path you have just traced, smiling at every gasp that the clash with your warm hands and lips provide her.
"My angel, my beautiful babe" you moan, pressing a shower of small kisses between her collarbones, worshipping her neck, her jaw and her bottom lip before lifting her up, opening your large warm hand between her shoulder blades and finally finding yourself in front of her flushed face, her eyes glazed cloudy with desire, her small hands clasped at the nape of your neck bringing you close again, to demand more attention.
"You're so incredibly warm" she sighs leaving a small bite on your skin "And I'm so incredibly needy because of you" she moans in your ear before extending you a look that has nothing chaste about it.
You smirk, your mind fuelled with all sorts of impure thoughts, raises its laps.
"Let me see, babe, come closer, sit here" you tell her, sliding your hands from her back to the perfect curve of her bottom, squeezing her waist between your long fingers, generating a wave in her body that barely makes her round breasts move and blossom her skin red. You hear her sigh as you guide her gently on your hips, her underwear so thin against your boxer shorts, her legs immediately finding the best way to stop around your waist, harbingers of a promise that generates a long, deep jolt of pleasure that radiates from your loins to the tips of your toes.
"Even better than my dreams" he whispers, glueing you back to his lips for a slow, wet, sloppy kiss: one hand behind the nape of your neck, and the other moving slowly and mischievously below your navel, stopping when he feels your tongue leave his and your eyes scan you with renewed malice.
"Tell me about one of these dreams, Daiki" she tells you, pressing her lips against each other, entwining her hands with yours, bringing them to her breasts, slowly moving her hips on yours.
"They are...just.. fuck" you drown in excitement, your ability to reason fades and your voice becomes hoarse. You see her smiling promiscuously, moving closer to you in search of a touch that doesn't come.
"Can you close your eyes?" she asks softly, brushing your pecs with her fingertips which she then brings to her lips smiling "Please, for me" she concludes, getting of course what she wants.
You feel her legs slide over yours, and you let out a long guttural sigh, her hair tickles your shoulders, her lips switch between kisses, breaths and small, delicious bites. You feel her hands move down, past your stomach, her fingers lingering on the waistband of your underwear, as she slowly undresses you. She kisses you and your breath becomes ragged, your words disjointed, your body overwhelmed by the amount of stimulation received in the blink of an eye.
"You're so good Daiki, I love listening to your sighs" she says, resting her face in the hollow of your shoulder, making you open your eyes again in surprise when you feel her tiny wet fingers at the base of your member.
"Now relax and guide me with your sultry voice, I just want you to enjoy it" she whispers against your ear, beginning her caress, slowly running her hand along your entire length, letting you moan against her mouth, welcoming each of your motions as a gift, encouraging your pleasure with praises, kisses, words that pave the path to a pleasure as intense as real. You feel yourself being carried over the edge, your body twitching, you throw your head back and a wave of pure pleasure comes, bringing you to climax, welcomed by her hands and thighs.
Now, as then, you cannot give yourself a logical reason for how you, and you alone, can make him feel.
Now, unlike then, there may be no more time to understand it.
After all, it was not a question of being able to resist what, but to whom.
Daiki is a teasing mess, you are pretty angry and things are gonna mix up once again.
Cruel author V!
👀This is a regular chapter, so no warning ahead!
Thank your for your support !
💮Wildchild Masterlist 💮
💣PS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).
➿Genre: long story, contains angst, fluff and smut parts.
The swish of the ball passing through the net, after the rebound taken on the bounce, under the eyes of a beautiful girl dressed in red, cheering for him and devouring him with her eyes since he arrived at the basketball court and asked to play.
He is the king of the court, the coolest of the cool and he has probably even scored a quickie, all in a scant hour.
So what's all the fuss about?
He rolls up the sleeves of his dark T-shirt over his shoulders and starts going again, because only he knows how much bitterness he feels inside.
"Before I moved, I'm sure I was deeply in love with you....I am no longer the girl I used to be, and you are no longer the boy I liked so much"
He clenches his jaw and shoots again, and again from the bench the girl in red exults, calling his name. He wishes you two would meet at that precise moment, so you would understand what it means to be attracted to someone.
Too bad you're at home playing stupid songs on the piano, missing the chance to see how wrong you are about everything.
Too bad you never cheered for him like that, but always sat on the bench, collecting tactics and data from Momoi, filling water bottles and having that maniac Wakamatsu look at your ass, just for the sake of laughing at his face when he pointed it out.
You were his quest.
He had to be the one to sit between you and Satsuki, waiting for the manager to hand him the towel so that you could put your small hand next to his and, under the guise of fetching him a drink, hide behind his broad back to whisper sinful appreciations of his body for which he would so gladly reward you later.
The austere appearance and naughty mind, the self-control and the complete ruin, all your extremes had made him dependent on you, because he alone knew them.
"Boy, you're in trouble!" he hears the playmaker of your team trio laugh, at the end of the game, as his fan approaches.
She smiles at you, talks in fits and starts, has already prepared a bottle of water and even a note and stuns you with her beautiful legs in view, her flattery and hands under her breasts.
He squeezes his eyes shut and wipes away the sweat with the hem of your t-shirt and when he feels, again, that predatory glance on his body, he has proof.
The girl in the red dress was not like you, no one was like you.
As if you were even remotely comparable, as if any girl who had been hanging around with him was even close to you.
"It’s flattering, but got a girl back home" he lies, letting himself be followed to the bench where he receives a towel and the ringing phone.
He smiles, because for once, your childhood friend disturbs you with purpose.
"Satsuki, guess where I am?" he exclaims excitedly, too bad that on the other end of the line you're experiencing the worst possible version of Momoi.
"I don't give a damn where you are, Daichan. I just need to understand why you're acting like a moron! She doesn't want to come to the fair because of you... Even Tetsu couldn't convince her! On Monday we leave for basketball camp and I swear, if you ruin my fireworks evening with Testu I'll break your head!” she tells in one breath.
"And what do you think I might do?" he asks her, sipping water.
"Apologise and start acting like an adult!" she sighs and closes the call.
Not quite a declaration of love, but a reason powerful enough to get him on his way home.
During the shower at home, wearing clothes, walking the ten-minute walk between your homes, he wonders how he could possibly ring the doorbell less than twenty-four hours after he's done everything he could to make you understand that he considers you a burden, and not look like a jerk.
He turned the corner and when he saw the big wooden door, he knew he couldn't. He passes a bicycle that someone has left near the wall covered by the creeper, straightens his back and gets distracted again. Through the open windows he hears you playing an uptempo song, maybe an anime opening, which you sing, cheerfully laughing at the words you don't know. He clutches the handle of the canvas bag Natsume gave him, a present , and listens closer, because there is something deeply wrong with that song. There is someone else singing it, laughing along with you.
Someone of his same sex.
The same one who actually opens the door for him.
An ordinary face, with the powerful body of a young man.
"And who on earth are you?" he asks, observing the astonished expression with which he stares at you.
"Aomine Daiki! The amazing Aomine Daiki! Are you for real? I don't fucking believe it! Hurry up! There’s Aomine Daiki!" he is told, his name pronounced as a frantic spell.
If he weren't about to slap him, he'd even find it funny.
But now, he has to deal with your puzzled expression and the urge to laugh passes him by immediately.
"He got jammed" he smiles at you, accepting your invitation to enter, closing the heavy door behind him. You look at him with slight suspicion, and then turn to the boy as if to apologise for the situation. Both bare feet, both with that gleam on your face left by an afternoon full of pleasurables pastimes.
Wait, did he interrupt something he doesn't even dare to imagine?
“This is Kenta, probably your biggest fan in Japan. It would be nice if you could be kind for once” you tell him, stepping to the side of the boy who looks at you as if you were a fairy. Dressed in pale blue sundress, your back fully exposed by the neck tie, hair gathered in a bun, he swears he is feeling the magic too.
"Kenta knows I am joking" he said to the boy, holding out his hand. "Thank you for your support. Are you a player, too?" he asks, passing him to leave the canvas bag on the bench.
"Yes at school but..." stammers the other, still in disbelief to find himself in front of his idol.
"There is an open playground, right at the end of this block, near the post office. I hang out there a lot, during the holidays. Come whenever you want and show me something!" he offers, keeping his gaze fixed on the prize, and immediately moves to join you at the fridge, where you are retrieving something cool to drink.
"Isn't he a little young?" he taunts, trapping your pretty little body between his and the appliance, gently and secretly brushing your silky spine with a finger.
"Don't get all over me" you say quietly, returning to the table, not caring that you practically have to move him by weight.
He shrugs and sits down next to his new friend, who tells him about finding the shirt in the girl's room and how much of a surprise it was to learn of your friendship.
"What were the chances?" he points out, much more at ease.
"The real question is...Why do you have such easy access to her bedroom, boy?" He comments, just for the sake of provocation.
A joke that amuses no one but him.
He sees Kenta glowing red, searching for an explanation that doesn't want to come out of his mouth, taking a sip of drink that goes wrong sideways, making him cough hard, awakening the hostess' anger.
"You really are an idiot!" he hears you snort. " His grandfather fixed my piano and he came by today to see if everything is alright. Between the two, I still don't understand why YOU are here!" you tell him in a sharp tone.
"Satsuki sent me. The fair” he quickly confesses, opening a hand to solicit an answer.
"No, the answer is no" you tell him, checking the boy to see if he is still breathing.
"She told me she will break my head if I don't convince you" he replies with a smirk.
"So be it, you won't miss your brain" you smile at him, setting your glass down.
"Natsume has sewn you a yukata for the occasion, you'll break her heart! “ he tempts you, sure you can't resist his mother.
"You put it on, with those beautiful legs you know how many compliments!" you laugh, shifting your attention back to the younger boy who, managing to breathe again, looks at you with a confused expression.
"You really are childish" he snorts, because he is losing his patience.
''If I were, I would tell you to take your girlfriend to the fair, but I'm just telling you I don't want to go, what's wrong with that? “ you explain amiably, with that half smile of someone who knows exactly what is getting into.
He has to bite his tongue not to answer, has to remember that there is that stranger sitting next to you, otherwise he would have already grabbed your soft thighs, lifted you onto his lap to press you against the wall, exposing your warm skin to the caress of his hands, allowing his fingers to reach your core, teasing you, making you beg to give you what you deserve until you both become one groaning being.
At the mere thought he feels his senses awaken with an urgency that alarms him.
How can he already be so turned on?
“Are you gonna disappoint Satsuki and Tetsu?” he tried one more time.
“Are you gonna disappoint your Yuriko doll? You know she doesn’t like me ” you reply “See, there’s no way out, so it’s not my fault, this is how it must be !” your smile turns unbearably sweet.
Or maybe not.
"I can be your date, you if you want… I mean if it doesn't embarrass you " you hear a voice coming from behind "I've never been to a fair with a group. So… your friends and his girlfriend won't be sad" he finishes his reasoning, excited about the solution he has found.
He only has to look at the change in the expression on your face, to know that he got what he came for.
How could you be so angry and yet so proud of him?
He trapped you with his goodwill, yet you can't bring yourself to tell him to mind his own bloody business, moved by that gesture, because you know you would have done the same at his age.
That’s why you cannot bounce back.
How could you disappoint the expectations of your pet Kenta who all proudly wags his tail around you?
How can you refuse a little boy a midsummer's dream?
“Fine, then” he hears your voice become calm again as you look at him: a long, icy glaze that tells him you are starting the next game.
"I'll have Satsuki send you the details " he says, getting up from the bench in one smooth motion. "Kenta, thanks for your help, I'll see you tomorrow" he smiled, noticing how you didn't even move to walk you to the door.
Still, he feels your eyes on his shoulders as he raises a hand in greeting: he knows you’re mad , but you also know that tomorrow night he can make it up to you.
You have always enjoyed him when he was a bit wild.
After all, heated pacemaking sessions were your favourite for a reason.
