Sailor ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

There was one person Midorima trusted more than Oha Asa’s predictions: his girlfriend. The first time Shutoku’s team learned about her, they thought she was somehow even worse than Midorima Shintaro himself.

She was always covered in crystal necklaces, protective charms, and tiny evil-eye trinkets that jingled with every movement. Her backpack looked like a traveling occult shop, and runes only she could understand were drawn across her hands. But what caught the team’s attention the most was the deck of cards she always carried with her. At first glance, it looked like a strange mix between a Spanish deck and tarot cards. She called them “arcana,” though none of them really understood what she meant by that.

The only thing they were certain of was one thing. That girl was a witch.

And Takao knew it better than anyone. Whenever they had a match, Midorima would disappear for a while before it started, and the team would send Takao to find him, only to discover him in the middle of a tarot reading with (Reader), just like today.

The cards were already laid out. (Reader) had a slight frown on her face, deep in thought. Just as she was about to speak, Takao walked in, interrupting her and earning a sharp look from both of them. A chill ran down his spine. Even though he didn’t believe in that sort of thing, there was something about the aura surrounding the couple, especially Midorima’s girlfriend, that gave him goosebumps.

—S-sorry for interrupting, —he stammered, unsure whether he had interrupted some ritual or something that could bring him bad energy, as (Reader) had once warned him might happen. He swallowed hard. —The match is about to start.

—It’s alright, this won’t take long, —(Reader)’s voice was calm and gentle. She never raised her voice and was always polite. —Now then, Shin-chan.

She had adopted the same nickname Takao used. She loved it the first time she heard it and never stopped using it afterward.

—The Tower, The Chariot, and the Five of Swords have appeared. Something—or someone—is coming to disrupt your team’s balance, —she looked directly into Midorima’s eyes. He was paying complete attention to every word she said. —This is someone completely determined to crush you and turn the game in their favor.

—That’s bad, right? —Takao had moved closer to get a better look at the cards. As much as he hated admitting it, (Reader)’s readings were usually frighteningly accurate.

—Very, —She sighed before looking at her boyfriend with determination.

—Very?!

(Reader) ignored him and quickly shuffled the deck again before drawing more cards.

Judgement. The Sun. A smile appeared on her face.

—But Shin-chan will overcome this challenge. There will be problems, and you’ll have to make important decisions, but I don’t see defeat, —Midorima adjusted his glasses, nodded, and stood up.

—I see.

(Reader) put away her cards and stood beside him. She kissed the tips of her fingers before gently pressing them against her boyfriend’s forehead.

—Be careful, Shin-chan, alright? —Unlike him, (Reader) was openly affectionate in a quiet and relaxed way. She walked past Takao, waving goodbye as she left.

—Do you really think what she said is true? Did you check Oha Asa’s horoscope too?

The two players started walking toward the locker room.

—Of course. Both she and Oha Asa said similar things, but (Reader)’s reading was more detailed.

Today’s lucky item was a wooden horse figurine, and his beloved girlfriend had given him a piece of black tourmaline.

Just as (Reader) had predicted, the match unfolded exactly that way. A player from the opposing team displayed overwhelming skill and dominance, but with the reading in mind, Midorima managed to adapt, making decisions he normally wouldn’t even consider, such as passing the ball.

Takao nearly lost his breath every time he remembered the reading and realized which stage they were currently in.

First came The Tower, with the appearance of that troublesome player. Then The Chariot, with the way the game developed. The Five of Swords appeared when the opposing team tried to crush Shutoku, but obviously failed. Judgement represented Midorima’s decision-making. And finally, The Sun.

They won.

When they left the gym, (Reader) was already there waiting by the entrance with her usual mystical aura.

—Shin-chan, Takao, —She greeted the rest of the team as well, but her attention quickly settled on her boyfriend, —How did it go?

She had obviously watched the match and seen her prediction come true, but she still didn’t fully understand how her readings applied to basketball. She knew almost nothing about the sport.

—Good. As accurate as ever, —(Reader) gave Midorima a gentle smile as she moved to his side and hooked her pinky around his. —I made the right decision and led us to victory.

—I’m glad I interpreted the message correctly, —Midorima didn’t pull his hand away. After saying goodbye to the team, he headed off in a different direction alongside his girlfriend.

—What a pair of horoscope weirdos.

Takao commented to the rest of the team, who could only agree.

— Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. ♡🫪

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Shintaroooo!”

You run quickly towards him and shout out to him with a worried voice, obviously panicking while holding out your unanswered assignment in front of his face. Tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Please help me!” You shake his shoulders in panic. “I forgot to do my math homework! I’ve fallen asleep after I binge-watched Coffee Prince. I don’t want to fail, please! I want to keep being an honor student—”

Midorima trembles in annoyance within your reach before cutting you off with his finger pressed to your lips. “Will you calm down?! Your voice can reach all the way through the rooftop!”

“B-But my grade—!”

“Stop being dramatic. A tardy submission will not automatically make you fail; our teacher will only give you a deduction.”

“Every point matters, Shin-chan!”

“Don’t call me that!”

You pout before complying. Immediately scooting your chair closer to his seat with a pleading face. “But you’ll help me, right?”

You are too close.

You bat your eyelashes prettily, trying to persuade him. Shintaro’s breath hitched when he feels your face only few centimeters away from him.

He is only met with a bright smile before he is ‘forced’ to help you with your homework—downright snatching it from your hands.

Midorima ignores the fluttering in his heart when his fingers brush against yours.

Why can’t he find himself to resist?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Takao watches his usual stoic, self-absorbent teammate act unusually. He narrows his eyes at the sight of Midorima mistakenly wrapping his fingers twice—he was unfocused, and it was obvious that something was weighing on his mind.

“Shin-chan, are you alright?” There is no way he is actually nervous about going against Kaijo, right?

Takao was only met with a silent glare from his friend, making him blink in confusion.

Shintaro instantly denied his claim, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I can see your fingers getting suffocated from up here,” Takao points out with a very concerned look on his face. He gasps so dramatically, like a thunder of realization flashes down in the locker room. “And… are my eyes playing tricks on me?!”

Midorima only looks at him like he has grown two heads.

“I’m not seeing you wiping your teddy bear—or what should it be today, a ceramic vase? A shoelace? That small acorn you asked me to steal from your neighbor’s garden?” Takao points out in surprise, because it was very unusual for him to not have his lucky item. “I’m seeing zero of those today. Is my Shin-chan okay?!”

Otsubo gives Midorima a worrying look. Is the world ending for him?

His teammates snickered at the sight, their coach letting out a tired sigh.

Midorima hears the ping on his phone, seeing your message that you have already arrived at the gymnasium. He does not back down at the teasing of his teammates without an answer—partnered with a scowl. “My lucky item is here.”

“What..? Did you seriously have it delivered here and at this hour?!”

If you look deep into his expression, you could see the red flush blooming on his cheeks, wanting to maintain his composure and give all of his teammates the meanest glare that he can muster. “My luck doesn’t require an exposure to all of you.”

Never in Takao’s life has he heard such a bullshit excuse.

“Are you saying it’s spiritual today? Can that stay permane—?” He was shut up by a kick on his ass.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

海常 KAIJO 秀徳 SHUTOKU

30 - 49

You’re in the bleachers, eyes never taking off the match. Excitement and nervousness fill your body—your leg bouncing up and down in your seat while you stare at the team of your school.

Your gaze landed on the four-eyed shooting guard. Pride swells in your heart every time he shoots a three-pointer. You never fail to show your enthusiasm whenever the whole team scores—especially him.

“LET’S GO, SHUTOKU!” You cheer loudly and proudly, and some of the audience thinks you were the leader of the cheerleader team.

Midorima hears your voice and still keeps his attention to his opponent. For some reason, he can feel the hot rush of blood pumping even more all over his body, passing through his teammates before lifting his arms to shoot a 3-pointer.

30 - 52

“Oh yes, Shintaro! That’s my guy!”

The audience cheer loudly with you—but your words can be heard all throughout the gymnasium. People who are close to you whisper in curiosity at your boldness, while others agree with you.

“You’re so amazing, Shintaro!” you shouted again with a bright grin.

Shintaro flinches, and his heart began to beat irrationally. He only lets out a ‘hmph’, not wanting to show his teammates the effect you have on him.

“You have quite the cheerleader, Midorimacchi,” Kise remarks teasingly, his eye focusing on the ball dribbling by the hand of his opponent. “I’m jealous.”

“Really? That’s coming from you?” Midorima comments snarkily at the hypocrisy of the blonde’s statement.

Takao who is getting screened by one of Kise’s teammates, quickly takes a glance at the bleachers to see you, his classmate who would rather be in an arcade than watch a basketball match.

Though their team is leading the game, he knew something was off with Shintaro’s performance today.

Like he can’t give his all yet.

Then his gaze falls on his friend, someone who is too silent—his hawk-eye didn’t miss the fidgety, uncertainty in his body language turned into relaxation on Shintaro’s face.

As if everything’s fine already.

He connects the two and stifles his laughter at his silent realization.

So that’s your lucky charm, Shin-chan.

“I’m so flattered! He made the basket because of my cheer, right?!” You said to a random stranger, who doesn’t know what to do with the question but agrees.

The match ended with Shutoku winning, and you jumped in your seat happily. You wanted to do nothing but congratulate them—you came down to the court excitedly, only standing by the side while you watched them catch their breath.

Shintaro sees you by the side, who only offers you an arrogant huff seeing the joy on your face. He sees you running towards him, holding a bottle of water and a clean towel (you stole it from their coach).

“Shintaroooooo!”

You engulfed him in your arms, not caring that he was sweaty. Unfortunately, he does not feel the same way—grimacing when he feels his sweaty skin touching your clothes. “You were so amazing out there!”

“Stop hugging me! This is literally so disgusting?!” He tries to distance himself from your grip; somehow, you’re stronger.

“I don’t care, Shin-chan! I’m just so happy for you!” You show him your widest and brightest grin, flustering Shintaro at your compliments. He yelps when he feels you slapping his back repeatedly. “You’re just like me!”

“What part of you exactly screams skilled?!” He was met with a harsher slap on the back, making him bite his tongue accidentally.

“That hurts!”

“ :D ”

Midorima grumbles and stops you by gripping your whole head with his hand. He glares down at you—the lack of anger in his voice tempting you to tease him further. “Hey.”

“Let me treat you out for dinner! All of you!” You have to crane your neck up to pinch his cheeks hard; the cuteness aggression in you awakens. “Awh, you’re just so adorable!”

“Shut up!”

Otsubo and Takao watch the interaction with a sweatdrop. The captain complains, “Do they really to have flirt here?”

“Can you really call that flirting?” Takao murmured uneasily. And it seems like his friend had heard him with how quick his head snaps towards him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Say ah!”

You hold out the tip of your chopsticks with tempura in between in front of Shintaro’s mouth. He was trembling in humiliation at what you were doing.

“I don’t need you to feed me!” he turns his head away, making you sigh.

You are left with no choice but to force it down his throat, making him gag and grip your wrist to live. “Mmm! You are welcome, Shin-chan!”

You ignore his attempt to bicker with you as you happily eat down your food. Takao cannot stop laughing with tears, because watching you two has always been his entertainment.

“Hey, Takao. Is it true that you wanted me to be on your match?” You dodged Shintaro’s hand from silencing your voice. “You could have texted me, you know?”

Takao blinked before looking at Shintaro with a knowing smirk. “Oh, did I now?” Your four-eyed friend looks awfully freaked out. “I think someone else did.”

“Who?”

Takao deadpans at you, “You seriously don’t know?”

“I’m enjoying Shin-chan’s reactions, don’t stop me,” You already knew the truth right after he hung up the phone. You weren’t dumb. “You know how hot-and-cold he is.”

Midorima just wants to get the hell away from your table and bury himself in a hole.

Murasakibara Atsushi

You strolled into the gym, sunglasses perched on your head and a mischievous grin playing on your lips. The sun was shining brightly in Tokyo today; it was a full 31 degrees. Which meant you could finally wear your favourite mini-skirt again – the one that showed off your legs so well.

There he was: Murasakibara, sprawled on a bench, snacking on a giant bag of chocolate puffs like the king of laziness he was.

“Hey, big guy,” you purred, leaning against the railing just close enough to make him glance up,“You know… someone should really help you burn off all that… chocolate.”

Murasakibara blinked at you slowly, chocolate puff halfway to his mouth. “Huh?” he mumbled, already suspicious of the tone in your voice.

You sauntered down, hips swaying exaggeratedly, and plopped down beside him,“Oh, come on. I’m just saying… someone fun should make sure you get some exercise. You’re way too cute just lying around like that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Cute?” he mumbled, nearly choking on the puff, “I’m… I’m scary! And huge!”

You leaned in closer, letting your hair brush his arm. “Scary? Please. You’re like… a soft chocolate bear. I’d cuddle you any day.”

There it was. The pause. The slow blink of his. The puff falling out of his hand. Murasakibara was frozen, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning—or, more likely, stalling.

“You… like me?” he asked cautiously, chocolate crumbs falling from his mouth like tiny evidence.

“Oh, I don’t just like you,” you said, twirling a strand of hair around your finger,“I love making you blush, Atsushi. And trust me, you’re already halfway there.”

He coughed. Hard. “B-blush…? I’m not…!” He waved his hands around, trying to deny it, but the faint red creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

You leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing whisper,“And if I keep talking… or touching… maybe you’ll turn even redder.”

Murasakibara froze, chocolate puff halfway to his mouth again. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumped. “…You… you’re annoying,” he muttered, though the small smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Annoying?” you said, putting a hand on his chest and leaning a little closer,“No, Atsushi… I’m charming. You might even… like it.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. Then, muttering under his breath: “…Stupid… why do I… feel weird…”

You laughed, a playful, teasing sound. “Aww, look at you getting flustered. Don’t worry, big guy, I’m not going anywhere.” You leaned back, letting him recover… or, rather, letting him stew in the fact that he did like the attention more than he wanted to admit.

“…Maybe… give me a snack?” he said finally, pointing at your bag of chips like a peace treaty.

“Only if you let me sit on your lap while you eat,” you shot back instantly, grinning.

Murasakibara groaned dramatically, collapsing back on the bench. “…Fine… but don’t… touch me too much…”

“Oh, I’ll touch you plenty,” you said, flopping down beside him, wiggling like a cat who’d claimed its throne,“After all… someone this big and soft deserves all the attention in the world.”

And there he stayed: exasperated, blushing, eating chocolate, and secretly loving every second of your shameless flirting.

Kagami Taiga

You leaned casually against the bleachers, arms crossed, watching Kagami Taiga practice free throws. The gym smelled faintly of sweat and hardwood. Every shot he made made your heart skip—but it was his frown when he missed that got you.

“Not bad…big guy,” you said, voice dripping with teasing sweetness,“But I bet I could make that basket blindfolded… and with my heels on.”

Taiga froze mid-dribble. His brows knit together. “W-What?!” he stammered, a bright red flush spreading across his face.

You walked toward him, swaying just slightly with exaggerated charm. “Oh, don’t be shy, little Tiger. I like it when you’re flustered. It’s… adorable.”

His hands trembled slightly on the ball,“I-I’m not… flustered! Stupid!”

You snorted, smirking. “Uh-huh, sure. Here, let me help you with your form.” Before he could protest, you stepped closer, brushing your hand lightly against his arm as you demonstrated a shot. His eyes went wide. His heartbeat was suddenly deafening in his ears.

“Y-You’re… close!” he sputtered, “S-Stop invading my personal space!”

“Or what?” you purred, leaning a little closer,“You gonna get all angry on me, Taiga? And what if I like that?”

His face turned scarlet, and he yanked the ball to his chest defensively, like it were his only lifeline,“I-I said s-stop! You’re… ugh… impossible Y/n!”

Impossible. That’s exactly what you loved about him. His shyness made him so… real and so infuriatingly cute. You grinned, sitting on the bleachers just a foot away from him. “You know, I have to admit… you look really good when you’re frustrated. Extra strong and irresistible.”

“F-Frustrated?! I’m NOT frustrated! You’re just… dumb!” He was so red now that you half-wondered if he was going to combust.

And there it was—your favorite side of Taiga: the tiny, fiery ball of embarrassment mixed with raw passion. You leaned back, letting your hand brush against his without even meaning to, casually, as if it were nothing.

“Hmm… maybe I should keep bothering you, just to see that face more.”

“D-Don’t…!” He covered his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers. “You’re… you’re terrible! I hate it! N-No! I mean… I don’t! I mean—”

You laughed, bold and shameless. You loved that he couldn’t even articulate what he felt when it came to you. And he loved—though he would never admit it—that you never gave him a moment’s peace.

That became your thing. Every chance you got, you teased him: leaning too close, whispering just a bit too suggestively, laughing at his flustered protests. And every time, he denied it, protested, yelled… and secretly, he waited for the next encounter.

Because as much as he tried to act like he could resist, the truth was that your confidence, your shameless flirting, your constant teasing—it got under his skin. It made his heart race. Made him nervous, sure. But also… happy. And slowly, even shy Taiga started looking forward to the moments when you were near, waiting to tease him into a perfect shade of embarrassment.

Even if he’d never admit it aloud, he’d never let you see: you had him wrapped around your finger, and somehow… he didn’t want to fight it.

Aomine Daiki

As team manager, you didn’t have it easy. Especially since Kuroko and Taiga have been getting on well again. As well as Seirin’s training sessions, there were now also training sessions for the ‘Generation of Miracles’. And so you’d see him once a week: your crush, Daiki. A bit of a ladies’ man, though not particularly successful.

You knew from the moment Daiki Aomine walked into the seirin gym that your life had officially turned into a rom-com—but one where you were 100% the over-the-top, shamelessly flirty protagonist. And Daiki? Well… he was exactly the kind of dangerously handsome, effortlessly smug basketball ace who could make your knees wobble just by smirking.

Today, you decided: enough subtlety. Time to go full flirt mode. make your intensions clear.

As he dribbled the ball across the court, you sauntered over, deliberately slow, hips swaying like you were auditioning for some ridiculous music video.

“Hey, Daiki,” you purred, leaning casually against the wall,“You know… I think your jump shot’s… impressive. But I bet you’d look even better if someone—like me—watched a little closer.”

Aomine blinked once, then smirked, that infuriatingly confident grin spreading across his face. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” he drawled, bouncing the ball between his hands like a cat teasing its prey.

“Oh, it’s not gonna work. It’s gonna melt your brain,” you said, stepping closer,“I mean, have you seen yourself in the mirror, or am I the only one suffering from visual overload here?”

He laughed—a low, amused sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine—and suddenly, he was walking toward you. Slow. Predatory. And your heart decided it was officially late for its next appointment.

“You know,” he said, stopping just a hair’s breadth away, laughing softly, “for someone who claims to be so confident, you’re awfully bold and cheesy. Was there no better in your book of talking to man?.”

You grinned, leaning in, your nose almost brushing his. “Bold is my middle name… well, actually it’s Dangerously Flirtatious, but let’s not get technical.”

Aomine’s smirk twitched, and suddenly he leaned forward. His hand shot out—not in a threatening way, no, but enough to gently press against your shoulder and tilt your head back.

“You’re… kind of embarrassing,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing,“But damn… I kinda like it.”

“Embarrassing? Me?” You gasped, feigning shock, covering your mouth like a proper rom-com heroine. “Never!”

He chuckled, the sound dangerously deep,“Careful, or I might start thinking you’re begging for my attention.”

Your cheeks warmed, but your grin only got wider,“Begging? Pfft. I don’t beg, Daiki. I command attention. And right now, you’re mine.”

Aomine’s eyebrow arched. “Mine, huh?” He leaned just slightly closer, the smirk never leaving his face, and whispered, “I could say the same about you. But you know… I might embarrass you more than you embarrass me.”

And just like that… you were toast. Your face burned, your knees felt like jelly, and yet somehow, your lips twitched into a grin anyway.

“Oh really?” you teased back, even though your heart was threatening to explode. “I’d like to see you try.”

The game was on. And in the world of bold, shameless flirting… Daiki Aomine was definitely your match. Every teasing comment, every smirk, every stolen glance became a hilarious battlefield where neither of you would ever surrender. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because when it came to cheesy, confidence, and flirting wars, Daiki Aomine was basically the MVP—and you were totally okay with losing… sometimes.

Kise Ryouta

You leaned against the gym railing, swinging your legs slightly as Ryouta dribbled the basketball below, sweat glinting in the gym lights. “Hey, Kise,” you called out, voice dripping with playful confidence,“Try not to break a sweat too early… I don’t want you collapsing before I even get to tease you properly.”

He froze mid-dribble, looking up at you with wide, sparkling eyes, the grin spreading across his face instantly. “Oh? Is that a challenge?” he asked, bouncing the ball on one hand while leaning casually against the court wall,“Cause you know I don’t lose to anyone… especially not you.”

You tilted your head, giving him a slow, teasing smile. “Mhm… but I might be more distracting than you think,” you purred, leaning a little closer over the railing, letting your hair fall in front of your face just enough to make him squint.

Ryouta’s grin faltered for a split second before it widened again. “You are impossible,” he said, laughing and bouncing the ball between his hands. “Every time I see you, I can’t focus. Seriously… stop being so… cute,” he added, his voice playful but with a genuine warmth that made your heart skip.

“Oh? Cute?” you said, batting your eyelashes dramatically. “I was going for irresistible, but I’ll take cute. I mean… if I’m being honest, I could stare at you all day too. Those abs? That smile? The hair? Killer combo.” You leaned even closer, smirking. “I’d say you should be flattered, but…”

Ryouta let out a loud laugh, shaking his head as he dribbled toward you. “Okay, okay, okay! You’re too much!” he said, trying to play it cool, but the way he stopped just a foot from you, breath a little uneven, betrayed him. “You know… you can’t just flirt like that and expect me to act normal!”

You leaned over the railing fully now, teasingly tapping his chest,“Why not? Are you scared?”

His eyes sparkled with both exasperation and delight. “Scared? Me?!” he gasped, hand going to his chest as if you’d punched him—though you were laughing the entire time. “No! I’m… challenged! Yeah, challenged… by your… boldness!”

You laughed, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on him. “Good. I like it when you’re challenged,” you said, voice softening slightly, almost intimate,“Means I have your attention.”

Ryouta’s grin softened into a mischievous smirk. “Oh… you have my attention alright,” he said, stepping closer so the space between you felt electric. “Every single time. You’re… trouble, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He laughed again, this time lower and more breathless,“Maybe… maybe I do,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, flustered but undeniably happy. “But you… you’ve got me hooked, okay? Every word, every look… you’re impossible. And I’m never letting you go.”

You grinned, leaning in close enough to brush your shoulder against his. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either, Kise.”

And just like that, the two of you fell into your usual dance—flirty banter, playful teasing, and the kind of sparkling chemistry that made everyone around you roll their eyes in envy. But neither of you cared. You were having too much fun… and maybe, just maybe, your hearts had already caught fire.

Kuroko Tetsuya

You had a problem. A big one. And that problem’s name was Tetsuya Kuroko. The boy who could vanish from sight, whose presence was… well… basically nonexistent to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. Perfect for basketball, not so perfect for someone like you who thrived on mischief, chaos, and flirting. I mean you liked him and seeing him all flustered because of you...it was the best feeling in the world.

And yet, here you were—plotting yet another ambush to your crush.

You leaned against the gym door, a sly smile curling on your lips. You knew he was around somewhere. You always knew. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t shift the air, didn’t blink conspicuously—classic Kuroko. But you had ways. Oh, yes. You had ways.

“Kuroko~” you called out playfully, twirling a strand of hair around your finger,“You’re so quiet today. Are you… ignoring me? That would be… very naughty of you.”

Nothing. Classic Kuroko response. You tiptoed a few steps closer, letting your voice drop into a conspiratorial whisper,“I bet you’re hiding behind the locker again, huh? Come on… don’t be shy. I know you’re thinking about me.”

Still nothing. You rolled your eyes dramatically, because come on. The audacity of being ignored by the object of your affection was tragically hilarious.

Then—just as you reached the row of lockers—bam! He was there. Or… rather, he wasn’t there. One second the space was empty; the next, his shadow was… right there. You squeaked and nearly tripped, catching yourself on the locker.

“Ah! God tetsu...you scared me!” you exclaimed, glaring at him with mock indignation. Kuroko blinked, calm as ever. He didn’t apologize, didn’t smile, didn’t even flinch. His voice was quiet but steady,“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

Your grin widened,“Ohhh, so now you’re polite and cute? That’s… unfair. I wasn’t prepared for that combination.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if assessing whether you were serious—or insane,“You’re… always like this?”

“Like what?” You leaned in a little, batting your eyelashes shamelessly,“Flirtatious? Ridiculously charming? Dangerously distracting?”

He gave you a long, unreadable stare. Then: “Yes.”

You gasped,“Yes? As in… yes, I’m charming, or yes, I distract you?”

Kuroko’s expression stayed neutral,“Both. Also yes to very annoying.”

You clutched your chest over-dramatically. “Oh! The confession! I knew it! I felt it in my bones!”

He didn’t blush. He didn’t fidget. He just quietly stepped closer. Your heart did a wild dance in your chest, because of course it did—he was Kuroko. He didn’t have to be loud to make you feel like you’d just fallen off a cliff.

“And… do you… like me back?” you asked, unable to stop yourself, though your tone was teasing.

Kuroko paused, then gave the faintest shrug,“Maybe. Sometimes. Depends.”

You gasped again, clutching your heart,“Sometimes?! Tetsuya Kuroko, that is so cruel! You can’t just flirt with me and then say ‘sometimes’!”

He blinked,“I’m not flirting.”

“Not flirting?” You gasped as if you’d been stabbed by a dagger of truth. “Oh no… so all this time I’ve been flirting with the most oblivious person alive?”

He tilted his head,“I notice. I just… don’t react the way you expect I guess.”

You sighed dramatically, sinking onto the nearest bench,“Of course you don’t. That’s why I love you.”

Kuroko’s reply? A simple, quiet,“I like that about you too.”

You froze. That. That was it. That tiny, understated line sent your heart into overdrive.

The dynamic? Oh, it was perfect chaos. You flitted around him, teasing, joking, flirting shamelessly at the most inconvenient times—hallways, classrooms, even during practice. And he… just quietly followed along, letting you have the spotlight while still somehow making your heart skip beats just by existing.

He didn’t need to be loud, he didn’t need to make dramatic gestures. His quiet acknowledgment, his occasional deadpan observations about how ridiculous you were, his subtle presence—that was enough to drive you crazy.

And for Kuroko? Well… he didn’t show it much, but your chaos made the invisible boy feel seen in ways that no one else ever could.

You never knew exactly when he’d appear—because he could literally materialize from nowhere—but that only made it more fun. One moment you’d be flirting at the lockers, and bam—Kuroko’s there, calm as ever, quietly enduring your theatrics while secretly… adoring them.

And the truth? You loved it.

Because with Kuroko, every flirt, every prank, every dramatic sigh… it was a tiny game, and both of you were winning.

Winning each others hearts ;)

Midorima Shintaro

It all started on a quiet afternoon at the school gym. You were leaning casually against the wall, smirking, watching Midorima meticulously line up his lucky items. The way he fussed over them—counting, double-checking, measuring distances—was adorable in a “someone needs a hug” kind of way. And that little crease between his eyebrows? Irresistible.

How on earth you’d ended up falling in love with a 1.90-metre-tall carrot... only the universe knew the answer to that. But hey, you just had to make do with what you had. And you wanted him.

“You know,” you drawled, stepping closer, “you could spend less time with those… things, and more time with someone who actually cares about you.”

Shintarou froze, his hands clutching his wallet like it was a life raft. “W-What do you mean by that?!” His voice wavered just slightly—enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You leaned in, lowering your voice conspiratorially,“Duh Shin, I mean me.”

For a brief, glorious second, his face went pale. Then—oh, heavens—the blush began. Pink started at his ears, spread to his neck, and then… oh god… you were pretty sure his whole face was incandescent, “Y-You… you… cannot—impossible—this is scientifically improbable!” he sputtered, waving his hands like he could physically push the blush back into his face.

You grinned, sensing victory. “Oh, Shintarou,” you cooed, dramatically tossing your hair over your shoulder, “I’ve known for weeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking.”

He coughed violently,“I do not stare! I am merely… observing for… research purposes!”

You raised an eyebrow,“Research, huh? Must be some very important, uh… ‘research.’” You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly.

Shintarou’s entire body tensed. His fingers twitched toward his wallet again, then froze,“Y-You are… utterly shameless Y/n!”

“And you love it,” you teased, pressing just a little closer, deliberately letting your shoulder brush against his,“Don’t fight it, Shintarou. I can see the way your ears are burning all the way over here.”

He froze. You watched his breathing get shallow, his eyes darting around for escape routes that didn’t exist. “I-I… must… stay… composed…” he muttered, though the bright red blossoming across his cheeks betrayed him completely.

“Oh, you are cute when you’re flustered,” you said, your hand lightly brushing his arm,“Honestly, I could do this all day.”

The blush intensified. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, and instead just squeaked out a strangled,“I-I am… not… cute!”

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning so close your lips almost brushed his ear,“Sure, Shintarou. Whatever you say ;).”

He practically melted, turning scarlet from ears to toes. “C-Cutie?! I am… NOT…!”

You couldn’t resist. Every time he opened his mouth to deny it, you smirked and leaned just an inch closer, making him panic even more. The dynamic quickly became a hilarious cycle: You flirt shamelessly, Shintarou turns beet-red, sputtering denials, You teasingly push just enough to make him combust internally, Repeat. Maybe he was more of a strawberry than a carrot, who would have known...if he did research so did you.

By the end of the day, Shintarou was a complete, stammering mess of blush and flustered Tsundere energy. And honestly? You loved every second. There was no other way to describe the thrill of seeing him so perfectly undone by your playful teasing.

Eventually, he would sit beside you, grumbling and muttering about the “improbability of human interaction,” while secretly enjoying your company so much he could barely breathe. And you, of course, would continue your relentless, flirtatious campaign—because let’s be honest, seeing Midorima Shintarou blush to the heavens? Never gets old.

BONUS:

It started innocently enough. You and Shintarou had spent the afternoon “researching human behavior,” which, in reality, was him blushing so hard he practically glowed while you leaned in close and teased him mercilessly. By the time he showed up to meet the rest of the Generation of Miracles, he looked… off.

Kuroko immediately noticed. “Shintarou, are you okay?” he asked quietly, because subtlety was his style, unlike yours. Shintarou’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. His face was tomato-red, and he was breathing like he’d just run a 100-meter dash,“I-I am… perfectly fine! Do not… stare…!”

“Uhh…” Seijuro said, tilting his head, eyes narrowing in mild suspicion,“You are… unusually flushed. And you appear… distracted.”

Shintarou waved a hand frantically,“N-N-Nonsense! I am… just… focusing on… the positioning of… my lucky items!” He tried to strike a dignified pose, but the way he kept twitching and shifting made it obvious: someone had completely destroyed his composure.

Kise leaned forward with a grin,“Shin-chan, you look like you just saw a ghost… or something way better? Maybe a girl?”

Shintarou’s head snapped toward him, panicked. “I have not! I am… I am… NOT flustered! And it’s certainly not… due to a… person! I—”

“—Are you blushing?” Daiki cut in, leaning back lazily, already sensing the comedy unfolding. “Bro, your entire face is red. Even your lucky items are probably embarrassed for you. Guess they are no so lucky if you end up like this bro.”

Shintarou’s hands shot to his face, as if he could physically push the blush away,“I… am NOT… embarrassed! This is… a normal… human reaction to… heat and sunlight!”

“You’re lying.” Kise pointed out, smirking.

“I am not! I… I simply… experienced… a sudden increase in… blood circulation due to… abnormal external stimuli!” Shintarou sputtered, each word slower than the last, as if he could carefully calculate his way out of this disaster.

Akashi pinched the bridge of his nose,“This… is highly irregular behavior. Explain yourself, Shintarou.”

Shintarou froze, flustered beyond logic. His fingers twitched toward his wallet, then froze midair. “I-I… cannot! This… is private… matter! It… it… must remain confidential!”

Kuroko tilted his head again,“It seems you were… heavily affected by someone’s behavior.”

At this, Shintarou practically vibrated. “I… I… d-d-don’t… care what you… think! And it is certainly… not a matter of… romantic… interest! I-I-I—”

Kise burst out laughing,“Oh my god, Shin-chan! You’re having a total meltdown! Who did this to you?! I must get to know her!!”

Shintarou’s face flamed so hard he looked like a walking stop sign. “I… I am… NOT MELTING DOWN! This… this is a… standard physiological response to… inappro… inappropriate… external stimuli!”

Aomine just shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, bro. Totally normal. Keep telling yourself that while you’re literally radiating embarrassment.”

The team collectively stared at him, and Shintarou’s mind raced. He could feel every eye on him, every inch of heat on his cheeks, every tremor of panic. “I-I… do not… need… advice… from fools! I… I am… perfectly… fine! I can handle this myself”

The boys bursted out into laughter. He couldnt handle nothing, especially not on his own. Not like this. Not when every word that came across your filthy seductive lips of yours made him crumble so hard.

And yet, Kuroko noticed the way he kept glancing over his shoulder, as if hoping someone—anyone—would magically erase the blush.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the back of his mind, you were probably smiling like the mischief-maker you were, knowing full well that you had just turned the infamously stoic Midorima Shintarou into a shaking, flushed tsundere disaster in front of his entire team.

And honestly? You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Murasakibara Atsushi

You strolled into the gym, sunglasses perched on your head and a mischievous grin playing on your lips. The sun was shining brightly in Tokyo today; it was a full 31 degrees. Which meant you could finally wear your favourite mini-skirt again – the one that showed off your legs so well.

There he was: Murasakibara, sprawled on a bench, snacking on a giant bag of chocolate puffs like the king of laziness he was.

“Hey, big guy,” you purred, leaning against the railing just close enough to make him glance up,“You know… someone should really help you burn off all that… chocolate.”

Murasakibara blinked at you slowly, chocolate puff halfway to his mouth. “Huh?” he mumbled, already suspicious of the tone in your voice.

You sauntered down, hips swaying exaggeratedly, and plopped down beside him,“Oh, come on. I’m just saying… someone fun should make sure you get some exercise. You’re way too cute just lying around like that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Cute?” he mumbled, nearly choking on the puff, “I’m… I’m scary! And huge!”

You leaned in closer, letting your hair brush his arm. “Scary? Please. You’re like… a soft chocolate bear. I’d cuddle you any day.”

There it was. The pause. The slow blink of his. The puff falling out of his hand. Murasakibara was frozen, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning—or, more likely, stalling.

“You… like me?” he asked cautiously, chocolate crumbs falling from his mouth like tiny evidence.

“Oh, I don’t just like you,” you said, twirling a strand of hair around your finger,“I love making you blush, Atsushi. And trust me, you’re already halfway there.”

He coughed. Hard. “B-blush…? I’m not…!” He waved his hands around, trying to deny it, but the faint red creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

You leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing whisper,“And if I keep talking… or touching… maybe you’ll turn even redder.”

Murasakibara froze, chocolate puff halfway to his mouth again. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumped. “…You… you’re annoying,” he muttered, though the small smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Annoying?” you said, putting a hand on his chest and leaning a little closer,“No, Atsushi… I’m charming. You might even… like it.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. Then, muttering under his breath: “…Stupid… why do I… feel weird…”

You laughed, a playful, teasing sound. “Aww, look at you getting flustered. Don’t worry, big guy, I’m not going anywhere.” You leaned back, letting him recover… or, rather, letting him stew in the fact that he did like the attention more than he wanted to admit.

“…Maybe… give me a snack?” he said finally, pointing at your bag of chips like a peace treaty.

“Only if you let me sit on your lap while you eat,” you shot back instantly, grinning.

Murasakibara groaned dramatically, collapsing back on the bench. “…Fine… but don’t… touch me too much…”

“Oh, I’ll touch you plenty,” you said, flopping down beside him, wiggling like a cat who’d claimed its throne,“After all… someone this big and soft deserves all the attention in the world.”

And there he stayed: exasperated, blushing, eating chocolate, and secretly loving every second of your shameless flirting.

Kagami Taiga

You leaned casually against the bleachers, arms crossed, watching Kagami Taiga practice free throws. The gym smelled faintly of sweat and hardwood. Every shot he made made your heart skip—but it was his frown when he missed that got you.

“Not bad…big guy,” you said, voice dripping with teasing sweetness,“But I bet I could make that basket blindfolded… and with my heels on.”

Taiga froze mid-dribble. His brows knit together. “W-What?!” he stammered, a bright red flush spreading across his face.

You walked toward him, swaying just slightly with exaggerated charm. “Oh, don’t be shy, little Tiger. I like it when you’re flustered. It’s… adorable.”

His hands trembled slightly on the ball,“I-I’m not… flustered! Stupid!”

You snorted, smirking. “Uh-huh, sure. Here, let me help you with your form.” Before he could protest, you stepped closer, brushing your hand lightly against his arm as you demonstrated a shot. His eyes went wide. His heartbeat was suddenly deafening in his ears.

“Y-You’re… close!” he sputtered, “S-Stop invading my personal space!”

“Or what?” you purred, leaning a little closer,“You gonna get all angry on me, Taiga? And what if I like that?”

His face turned scarlet, and he yanked the ball to his chest defensively, like it were his only lifeline,“I-I said s-stop! You’re… ugh… impossible Y/n!”

Impossible. That’s exactly what you loved about him. His shyness made him so… real and so infuriatingly cute. You grinned, sitting on the bleachers just a foot away from him. “You know, I have to admit… you look really good when you’re frustrated. Extra strong and irresistible.”

“F-Frustrated?! I’m NOT frustrated! You’re just… dumb!” He was so red now that you half-wondered if he was going to combust.

And there it was—your favorite side of Taiga: the tiny, fiery ball of embarrassment mixed with raw passion. You leaned back, letting your hand brush against his without even meaning to, casually, as if it were nothing.

“Hmm… maybe I should keep bothering you, just to see that face more.”

“D-Don’t…!” He covered his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers. “You’re… you’re terrible! I hate it! N-No! I mean… I don’t! I mean—”

You laughed, bold and shameless. You loved that he couldn’t even articulate what he felt when it came to you. And he loved—though he would never admit it—that you never gave him a moment’s peace.

That became your thing. Every chance you got, you teased him: leaning too close, whispering just a bit too suggestively, laughing at his flustered protests. And every time, he denied it, protested, yelled… and secretly, he waited for the next encounter.

Because as much as he tried to act like he could resist, the truth was that your confidence, your shameless flirting, your constant teasing—it got under his skin. It made his heart race. Made him nervous, sure. But also… happy. And slowly, even shy Taiga started looking forward to the moments when you were near, waiting to tease him into a perfect shade of embarrassment.

Even if he’d never admit it aloud, he’d never let you see: you had him wrapped around your finger, and somehow… he didn’t want to fight it.

Aomine Daiki

As team manager, you didn’t have it easy. Especially since Kuroko and Taiga have been getting on well again. As well as Seirin’s training sessions, there were now also training sessions for the ‘Generation of Miracles’. And so you’d see him once a week: your crush, Daiki. A bit of a ladies’ man, though not particularly successful.

You knew from the moment Daiki Aomine walked into the seirin gym that your life had officially turned into a rom-com—but one where you were 100% the over-the-top, shamelessly flirty protagonist. And Daiki? Well… he was exactly the kind of dangerously handsome, effortlessly smug basketball ace who could make your knees wobble just by smirking.

Today, you decided: enough subtlety. Time to go full flirt mode. make your intensions clear.

As he dribbled the ball across the court, you sauntered over, deliberately slow, hips swaying like you were auditioning for some ridiculous music video.

“Hey, Daiki,” you purred, leaning casually against the wall,“You know… I think your jump shot’s… impressive. But I bet you’d look even better if someone—like me—watched a little closer.”

Aomine blinked once, then smirked, that infuriatingly confident grin spreading across his face. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” he drawled, bouncing the ball between his hands like a cat teasing its prey.

“Oh, it’s not gonna work. It’s gonna melt your brain,” you said, stepping closer,“I mean, have you seen yourself in the mirror, or am I the only one suffering from visual overload here?”

He laughed—a low, amused sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine—and suddenly, he was walking toward you. Slow. Predatory. And your heart decided it was officially late for its next appointment.

“You know,” he said, stopping just a hair’s breadth away, laughing softly, “for someone who claims to be so confident, you’re awfully bold and cheesy. Was there no better in your book of talking to man?.”

You grinned, leaning in, your nose almost brushing his. “Bold is my middle name… well, actually it’s Dangerously Flirtatious, but let’s not get technical.”

Aomine’s smirk twitched, and suddenly he leaned forward. His hand shot out—not in a threatening way, no, but enough to gently press against your shoulder and tilt your head back.

“You’re… kind of embarrassing,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing,“But damn… I kinda like it.”

“Embarrassing? Me?” You gasped, feigning shock, covering your mouth like a proper rom-com heroine. “Never!”

He chuckled, the sound dangerously deep,“Careful, or I might start thinking you’re begging for my attention.”

Your cheeks warmed, but your grin only got wider,“Begging? Pfft. I don’t beg, Daiki. I command attention. And right now, you’re mine.”

Aomine’s eyebrow arched. “Mine, huh?” He leaned just slightly closer, the smirk never leaving his face, and whispered, “I could say the same about you. But you know… I might embarrass you more than you embarrass me.”

And just like that… you were toast. Your face burned, your knees felt like jelly, and yet somehow, your lips twitched into a grin anyway.

“Oh really?” you teased back, even though your heart was threatening to explode. “I’d like to see you try.”

The game was on. And in the world of bold, shameless flirting… Daiki Aomine was definitely your match. Every teasing comment, every smirk, every stolen glance became a hilarious battlefield where neither of you would ever surrender. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because when it came to cheesy, confidence, and flirting wars, Daiki Aomine was basically the MVP—and you were totally okay with losing… sometimes.

Kise Ryouta

You leaned against the gym railing, swinging your legs slightly as Ryouta dribbled the basketball below, sweat glinting in the gym lights. “Hey, Kise,” you called out, voice dripping with playful confidence,“Try not to break a sweat too early… I don’t want you collapsing before I even get to tease you properly.”

He froze mid-dribble, looking up at you with wide, sparkling eyes, the grin spreading across his face instantly. “Oh? Is that a challenge?” he asked, bouncing the ball on one hand while leaning casually against the court wall,“Cause you know I don’t lose to anyone… especially not you.”

You tilted your head, giving him a slow, teasing smile. “Mhm… but I might be more distracting than you think,” you purred, leaning a little closer over the railing, letting your hair fall in front of your face just enough to make him squint.

Ryouta’s grin faltered for a split second before it widened again. “You are impossible,” he said, laughing and bouncing the ball between his hands. “Every time I see you, I can’t focus. Seriously… stop being so… cute,” he added, his voice playful but with a genuine warmth that made your heart skip.

“Oh? Cute?” you said, batting your eyelashes dramatically. “I was going for irresistible, but I’ll take cute. I mean… if I’m being honest, I could stare at you all day too. Those abs? That smile? The hair? Killer combo.” You leaned even closer, smirking. “I’d say you should be flattered, but…”

Ryouta let out a loud laugh, shaking his head as he dribbled toward you. “Okay, okay, okay! You’re too much!” he said, trying to play it cool, but the way he stopped just a foot from you, breath a little uneven, betrayed him. “You know… you can’t just flirt like that and expect me to act normal!”

You leaned over the railing fully now, teasingly tapping his chest,“Why not? Are you scared?”

His eyes sparkled with both exasperation and delight. “Scared? Me?!” he gasped, hand going to his chest as if you’d punched him—though you were laughing the entire time. “No! I’m… challenged! Yeah, challenged… by your… boldness!”

You laughed, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on him. “Good. I like it when you’re challenged,” you said, voice softening slightly, almost intimate,“Means I have your attention.”

Ryouta’s grin softened into a mischievous smirk. “Oh… you have my attention alright,” he said, stepping closer so the space between you felt electric. “Every single time. You’re… trouble, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He laughed again, this time lower and more breathless,“Maybe… maybe I do,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, flustered but undeniably happy. “But you… you’ve got me hooked, okay? Every word, every look… you’re impossible. And I’m never letting you go.”

You grinned, leaning in close enough to brush your shoulder against his. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either, Kise.”

And just like that, the two of you fell into your usual dance—flirty banter, playful teasing, and the kind of sparkling chemistry that made everyone around you roll their eyes in envy. But neither of you cared. You were having too much fun… and maybe, just maybe, your hearts had already caught fire.

Kuroko Tetsuya

You had a problem. A big one. And that problem’s name was Tetsuya Kuroko. The boy who could vanish from sight, whose presence was… well… basically nonexistent to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. Perfect for basketball, not so perfect for someone like you who thrived on mischief, chaos, and flirting. I mean you liked him and seeing him all flustered because of you...it was the best feeling in the world.

And yet, here you were—plotting yet another ambush to your crush.

You leaned against the gym door, a sly smile curling on your lips. You knew he was around somewhere. You always knew. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t shift the air, didn’t blink conspicuously—classic Kuroko. But you had ways. Oh, yes. You had ways.

“Kuroko~” you called out playfully, twirling a strand of hair around your finger,“You’re so quiet today. Are you… ignoring me? That would be… very naughty of you.”

Nothing. Classic Kuroko response. You tiptoed a few steps closer, letting your voice drop into a conspiratorial whisper,“I bet you’re hiding behind the locker again, huh? Come on… don’t be shy. I know you’re thinking about me.”

Still nothing. You rolled your eyes dramatically, because come on. The audacity of being ignored by the object of your affection was tragically hilarious.

Then—just as you reached the row of lockers—bam! He was there. Or… rather, he wasn’t there. One second the space was empty; the next, his shadow was… right there. You squeaked and nearly tripped, catching yourself on the locker.

“Ah! God tetsu...you scared me!” you exclaimed, glaring at him with mock indignation. Kuroko blinked, calm as ever. He didn’t apologize, didn’t smile, didn’t even flinch. His voice was quiet but steady,“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

Your grin widened,“Ohhh, so now you’re polite and cute? That’s… unfair. I wasn’t prepared for that combination.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if assessing whether you were serious—or insane,“You’re… always like this?”

“Like what?” You leaned in a little, batting your eyelashes shamelessly,“Flirtatious? Ridiculously charming? Dangerously distracting?”

He gave you a long, unreadable stare. Then: “Yes.”

You gasped,“Yes? As in… yes, I’m charming, or yes, I distract you?”

Kuroko’s expression stayed neutral,“Both. Also yes to very annoying.”

You clutched your chest over-dramatically. “Oh! The confession! I knew it! I felt it in my bones!”

He didn’t blush. He didn’t fidget. He just quietly stepped closer. Your heart did a wild dance in your chest, because of course it did—he was Kuroko. He didn’t have to be loud to make you feel like you’d just fallen off a cliff.

“And… do you… like me back?” you asked, unable to stop yourself, though your tone was teasing.

Kuroko paused, then gave the faintest shrug,“Maybe. Sometimes. Depends.”

You gasped again, clutching your heart,“Sometimes?! Tetsuya Kuroko, that is so cruel! You can’t just flirt with me and then say ‘sometimes’!”

He blinked,“I’m not flirting.”

“Not flirting?” You gasped as if you’d been stabbed by a dagger of truth. “Oh no… so all this time I’ve been flirting with the most oblivious person alive?”

He tilted his head,“I notice. I just… don’t react the way you expect I guess.”

You sighed dramatically, sinking onto the nearest bench,“Of course you don’t. That’s why I love you.”

Kuroko’s reply? A simple, quiet,“I like that about you too.”

You froze. That. That was it. That tiny, understated line sent your heart into overdrive.

The dynamic? Oh, it was perfect chaos. You flitted around him, teasing, joking, flirting shamelessly at the most inconvenient times—hallways, classrooms, even during practice. And he… just quietly followed along, letting you have the spotlight while still somehow making your heart skip beats just by existing.

He didn’t need to be loud, he didn’t need to make dramatic gestures. His quiet acknowledgment, his occasional deadpan observations about how ridiculous you were, his subtle presence—that was enough to drive you crazy.

And for Kuroko? Well… he didn’t show it much, but your chaos made the invisible boy feel seen in ways that no one else ever could.

You never knew exactly when he’d appear—because he could literally materialize from nowhere—but that only made it more fun. One moment you’d be flirting at the lockers, and bam—Kuroko’s there, calm as ever, quietly enduring your theatrics while secretly… adoring them.

And the truth? You loved it.

Because with Kuroko, every flirt, every prank, every dramatic sigh… it was a tiny game, and both of you were winning.

Winning each others hearts ;)

Midorima Shintaro

It all started on a quiet afternoon at the school gym. You were leaning casually against the wall, smirking, watching Midorima meticulously line up his lucky items. The way he fussed over them—counting, double-checking, measuring distances—was adorable in a “someone needs a hug” kind of way. And that little crease between his eyebrows? Irresistible.

How on earth you’d ended up falling in love with a 1.90-metre-tall carrot... only the universe knew the answer to that. But hey, you just had to make do with what you had. And you wanted him.

“You know,” you drawled, stepping closer, “you could spend less time with those… things, and more time with someone who actually cares about you.”

Shintarou froze, his hands clutching his wallet like it was a life raft. “W-What do you mean by that?!” His voice wavered just slightly—enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You leaned in, lowering your voice conspiratorially,“Duh Shin, I mean me.”

For a brief, glorious second, his face went pale. Then—oh, heavens—the blush began. Pink started at his ears, spread to his neck, and then… oh god… you were pretty sure his whole face was incandescent, “Y-You… you… cannot—impossible—this is scientifically improbable!” he sputtered, waving his hands like he could physically push the blush back into his face.

You grinned, sensing victory. “Oh, Shintarou,” you cooed, dramatically tossing your hair over your shoulder, “I’ve known for weeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking.”

He coughed violently,“I do not stare! I am merely… observing for… research purposes!”

You raised an eyebrow,“Research, huh? Must be some very important, uh… ‘research.’” You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly.

Shintarou’s entire body tensed. His fingers twitched toward his wallet again, then froze,“Y-You are… utterly shameless Y/n!”

“And you love it,” you teased, pressing just a little closer, deliberately letting your shoulder brush against his,“Don’t fight it, Shintarou. I can see the way your ears are burning all the way over here.”

He froze. You watched his breathing get shallow, his eyes darting around for escape routes that didn’t exist. “I-I… must… stay… composed…” he muttered, though the bright red blossoming across his cheeks betrayed him completely.

“Oh, you are cute when you’re flustered,” you said, your hand lightly brushing his arm,“Honestly, I could do this all day.”

The blush intensified. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, and instead just squeaked out a strangled,“I-I am… not… cute!”

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning so close your lips almost brushed his ear,“Sure, Shintarou. Whatever you say ;).”

He practically melted, turning scarlet from ears to toes. “C-Cutie?! I am… NOT…!”

You couldn’t resist. Every time he opened his mouth to deny it, you smirked and leaned just an inch closer, making him panic even more. The dynamic quickly became a hilarious cycle: You flirt shamelessly, Shintarou turns beet-red, sputtering denials, You teasingly push just enough to make him combust internally, Repeat. Maybe he was more of a strawberry than a carrot, who would have known...if he did research so did you.

By the end of the day, Shintarou was a complete, stammering mess of blush and flustered Tsundere energy. And honestly? You loved every second. There was no other way to describe the thrill of seeing him so perfectly undone by your playful teasing.

Eventually, he would sit beside you, grumbling and muttering about the “improbability of human interaction,” while secretly enjoying your company so much he could barely breathe. And you, of course, would continue your relentless, flirtatious campaign—because let’s be honest, seeing Midorima Shintarou blush to the heavens? Never gets old.

BONUS:

It started innocently enough. You and Shintarou had spent the afternoon “researching human behavior,” which, in reality, was him blushing so hard he practically glowed while you leaned in close and teased him mercilessly. By the time he showed up to meet the rest of the Generation of Miracles, he looked… off.

Kuroko immediately noticed. “Shintarou, are you okay?” he asked quietly, because subtlety was his style, unlike yours. Shintarou’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. His face was tomato-red, and he was breathing like he’d just run a 100-meter dash,“I-I am… perfectly fine! Do not… stare…!”

“Uhh…” Seijuro said, tilting his head, eyes narrowing in mild suspicion,“You are… unusually flushed. And you appear… distracted.”

Shintarou waved a hand frantically,“N-N-Nonsense! I am… just… focusing on… the positioning of… my lucky items!” He tried to strike a dignified pose, but the way he kept twitching and shifting made it obvious: someone had completely destroyed his composure.

Kise leaned forward with a grin,“Shin-chan, you look like you just saw a ghost… or something way better? Maybe a girl?”

Shintarou’s head snapped toward him, panicked. “I have not! I am… I am… NOT flustered! And it’s certainly not… due to a… person! I—”

“—Are you blushing?” Daiki cut in, leaning back lazily, already sensing the comedy unfolding. “Bro, your entire face is red. Even your lucky items are probably embarrassed for you. Guess they are no so lucky if you end up like this bro.”

Shintarou’s hands shot to his face, as if he could physically push the blush away,“I… am NOT… embarrassed! This is… a normal… human reaction to… heat and sunlight!”

“You’re lying.” Kise pointed out, smirking.

“I am not! I… I simply… experienced… a sudden increase in… blood circulation due to… abnormal external stimuli!” Shintarou sputtered, each word slower than the last, as if he could carefully calculate his way out of this disaster.

Akashi pinched the bridge of his nose,“This… is highly irregular behavior. Explain yourself, Shintarou.”

Shintarou froze, flustered beyond logic. His fingers twitched toward his wallet, then froze midair. “I-I… cannot! This… is private… matter! It… it… must remain confidential!”

Kuroko tilted his head again,“It seems you were… heavily affected by someone’s behavior.”

At this, Shintarou practically vibrated. “I… I… d-d-don’t… care what you… think! And it is certainly… not a matter of… romantic… interest! I-I-I—”

Kise burst out laughing,“Oh my god, Shin-chan! You’re having a total meltdown! Who did this to you?! I must get to know her!!”

Shintarou’s face flamed so hard he looked like a walking stop sign. “I… I am… NOT MELTING DOWN! This… this is a… standard physiological response to… inappro… inappropriate… external stimuli!”

Aomine just shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, bro. Totally normal. Keep telling yourself that while you’re literally radiating embarrassment.”

The team collectively stared at him, and Shintarou’s mind raced. He could feel every eye on him, every inch of heat on his cheeks, every tremor of panic. “I-I… do not… need… advice… from fools! I… I am… perfectly… fine! I can handle this myself”

The boys bursted out into laughter. He couldnt handle nothing, especially not on his own. Not like this. Not when every word that came across your filthy seductive lips of yours made him crumble so hard.

And yet, Kuroko noticed the way he kept glancing over his shoulder, as if hoping someone—anyone—would magically erase the blush.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the back of his mind, you were probably smiling like the mischief-maker you were, knowing full well that you had just turned the infamously stoic Midorima Shintarou into a shaking, flushed tsundere disaster in front of his entire team.

And honestly? You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Taiga Kagami

The exams were finally over and life was going to get easier again. Now you only had to focus on one thing: your sport. Over the last few years, you’d become something of a football idol among the younger generation. Hard work had got you there, much to the chagrin of your friends. And your crush, Taiga, too.

But now that you’d passed your exams and there was less sport and training, you’d suggested we let our hair down one evening and go out and have a party. Dancing until the night wore away… that was exactly what you needed right now.

You adjusted the hem of your dress for what felt like the hundredth time. This was so not your usual scene, as you got dressed. Normally, you lived in sportswear—breathable shorts, jerseys, track jackets. Everything about your life revolved around soccer: training, matches, stamina, discipline. Looking “dolled up” had never really been a priority.

But tonight? Tonight you wanted to let loose. To be free and feel alive, after all this hard work of the last few months. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see his reaction. To impress him a little, or more to take his breath away.

The black bodycon dress hugged every curve, sculpting your figure in a way you weren’t used to. The patent leather heels (borrowed from your sister) added just enough height to change your posture completely. You stood more upright, tall and definetly more confident. After all, you had a fir and trained body, that was ready to be shown off. Your decided to curls your hair into loose waves, that fell around your shoulders. A little soft but intentional casual look.

Oh and the red lipstick: A bold and striking cherry color.

You barely recognized yourself, as you looked into the mirror.

“…Okay,” you exhaled,“Too late to back out now. I got this!”

___ _ _ _

When you spotted Taiga outside the club, hands shoved in his pockets, looking mildly annoyed at the line. He’d slipped out of his basketball shorts and paired black jeans with a black shirt. He looked almost elegant. The slightly unbuttoned shirt, showing of his necklace, gave him a certain sexy allure.

Seeing him this was, everything felt normal. That was until he looked up to you. And immediately seemed to choked on air,“…Huh—?!”

You stopped in front of him, crossing your arms,“What’s with that reaction?”

He stared. Actually stared, like he would burn a hole into your body...

From your heels… up your legs… to the way the dress fit your waist… your hair… your lips. His face turned bright red in record time.

“Y-you—what—” he started, completely fumbling,“Since when do you look like that?!”

You raised a brow, trying to stay confident,“Like what?”

“Like—like—” he gestured vaguely, clearly malfunctioning,“That!”

You laughed,“Wow. Real smooth, Kagami. You really know how to compliment a girl.”

“I’m being serious!” he snapped, then immediately looked away, rubbing the back of his neck,“You just—y-you don’t usually—”

“Dress like up? Like a stylish person?” you teased.

“I didn’t say that!” he shot back quickly, even more flustered,“You always look fine, it’s just—this is—”

He glanced at you again, then paused. “…You look really good,” he muttered. That sentence hit you straight into your lovestruck brain.

“Thanks,” you said softly. He cleared his throat, still avoiding direct eye contact,“Yeah. I mean it.”

A small smirk tugged at your lips,“You gonna survive the night?”

“Shut up brat,” he told you.

___ _ _ _

Inside the club however, everything changed. The 2000s music was loud and blasting from every speaker in the room, the colorful lights flashing, the energy completely different from anything you usually let yourself indulge in. And you, you fit right in. It was perfect, you felt free.

At first, Kagami stayed close to you, clearly out of his comfort zone—but the more you relaxed, the more you moved, the more that confident, effortless side of you came out. Your hips swayed naturally with the beat, your movements sharp but fluid—athletic, controlled, but still undeniably fun.

He noticed. Hell he noticed immediatly. Like, how could he not?

From the other side of the dance floor, Taiga watched you, being completely locked in.

“…She moves like that too?” he muttered under his breath. You caught his eye and motioned him over. He hesitated, but then came anyway. Big mistake on his side. Because up close? It was worse, well you were worse...you looked so radiant and sexy.

The music pulsed through the floor, and when you reached for his hand, pulling him into the rhythm, his brain was officially out of office.

“You’re so stiff Taiga. Have some fun!,” you laughed.

“I am not—!”

“You are.”

“I just don’t dance like this!”

“Then learn,”You moved closer, guiding him just slightly—and that’s when it hit him. The proximity. The way the dress moved with you. The way you looked completely different from the version of you he knew on the field. Thinking about this, his face flushed again, but this time...it didn’t fade, like it did when you guys waited in line.

As the night went on, something in him shifted. He went from red totmato and shy little baby Tiger to well...less flustered? He was more… intense? You couldnt quite put your finger on it.

His hands settled more confidently at your waist, when the crowd got tighter. His gaze didn’t dart away anymore—it lingered. The gaze was filled, heavy and steamy??

By the time you stepped off the dance floor to catch your breath and maybe grab a drink, he was right behind you. Well he was close, too close one might say, but you didnt mind.

“…You did this on purpose,” he muttered near your ear. You turned slightly,“Did what?”

He leaned in just enough for his voice to drop, rougher now,“Show up like that. Dance like that.”

Your pulse jumped,“Maybe I just wanted to have fun.”

He let out a quiet huff,“…Yeah. Well, it’s working.”

You tilted your head, scooting closer to try to understand was he was saying in the loud atmosphere,“What is?”

His eyes met yours—and there was nothing shy about them now,“…You’re driving me crazy.”

Your breath caught. He hesitated for a split second, like he was deciding how far to go. Then leaned in just a little closer, voice low and heated. “…Didn’t think I could want it even more,” he murmured, “to take you somewhere quieter.”

That sent a sharp wave of heat through you. You swallowed, heart racing,“…Ka...gami”

He straightened slightly, like he’d realized what he said—but he didn’t take it back and he didn’t look away. Just scratched the back of his neck again, a faint flush still there—but his gaze steady.

“…Let’s just—” he cleared his throat,“You know, get some air.”

You nodded, trying to steady yourself,“…Yeah. Good idea.”

But as you walked out together...His hand found yours. A firm and very confident grip. The grip of a man, who definitely was not letting go and had a plan to where this evening was headed.

Daiki Aomine

You were a bit nervous. In a good way – the kind where you get butterflies in your stomach. The sun was slowly setting on that lovely Saturday evening. Lost in thoughts, you double-checked your reflection in the hallway mirror one last time.

The girl staring back wasn’t you. At least, not the "day-to-day" version most people knew.

Most of your time was spend at your school. It wasnt super easy being the top of every class. You wanted to become an engineer and you studied hard to do so. So at school, you were the girl in oversized track pants, plain T-shirts, hair usually tied back, eyes always glued to notes or a book. Lee-Ah, your best friend would say you were invisible. But you wanted to be, it was comfortable and you also liked this more under the radar laid back look.

You glanced at the clock: blimey, only 10 minutes left. You had to get a move on now. One last look in the mirror. Today? Tonight? The girl with the big tees and the trackpants was gone.

You went all out: Baggy charcoal pants hung low on your hips, paired with a sharply fitted cropped top that hugged you just right. A bold belt hung loosely around your hips. A silver chain with the number 3 rested against your collarbone, rings catching the light as you adjusted your Yankees snapback—worn backwards, of course. You looked… different.

Totally confident, you felt sexy and like a total heartthrop. You wouldn’t want to admit it, but you went all out with that outfit more than usual. There was more going on than usual when you were out shopping with Lee-Ah or doing something similar. Because maybe you wanted to see how he would react.

___ _ _ _

Your white and grey Jordans with the light blue soles carried you to the underground as fast as your body would allow. You definitely didn’t want to be late. Or maybe you did? It was like a scene straight out of a film… you were so caught up in daydreaming that you almost missed your stop.

When you spotted Aomine Daiki leaning against the meeting spot, hands in his pockets, looking bored out of his mind, you almost laughed. Some things never changed.

“Oi,” you called.

He glanced up lazily—and then froze. Like actually froze, mid movement. You stopped a few steps away, crossing your arms,“You good?”

No answer. His eyes dragged over you slowly. From your cap… to your top… to the jewelry… and back up again. His usual half-lidded, uninterested stare? Gone.

“…What the hell Y/n,” he muttered. You raised a brow in question,“That bad?”

He scoffed, pushing off the wall, walking closer,“Bad? Nah.” His gaze sharpened, something dangerous and impressed flickering there,“Since when do you dress like this?”

You shrugged casually, even though your heart was doing something embarrassing in your chest,“Since always. I just don’t bother for school.”

“Hah.” He stopped right in front of you now, close enough that you could see the shift in his expression—interest, real interest,“So you’ve been hiding this the whole time?”

“Didn’t think it was a big deal to be honest,” you simply replied. He let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck,“Yeah… well, it does. Even more so now.”

You smirked slightly,“You’re the one who never asked me out. So now wonder you never saw this sinde of me. I had to ask you out.”

“Oi, don’t start,” he shot back automatically—but there was no bite to it. If anything, he looked… amused. And still very much distracted.

His eyes flicked to your rings as you adjusted your cap again,“…Damn.”

You blinked,“What?”

He shook his head, a crooked grin forming,“I need to ask you out more often.”

That caught you off guard,“Excuse me?”

He leaned in just a little, hands slipping back into his pockets like he was trying to act casual—but his gaze gave him away. “Cause if this is what I get?” he said, nodding toward you,“I’ve been seriously underestimating you.”

Heat crept up your neck, but you refused to let it show,“Took you long enough Idiot.”

He chuckled, low and lazy,“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”

But then—without warning—he reached out, lightly tugging at the chain around your neck, letting it fall back against your skin.

“…It suits you,” he added, quieter this time. That one hit harder than anything else. You looked away, clicking your tongue,“You gonna stand there staring all night, or are we actually going on this date?”

He smirked again, falling into step beside you.

“Relax,” he said,“I’m not wasting this.” As you walked off together, you could feel his gaze linger...completely, undeniably locked on you.

Ryouta Kise

You stared at your reflection, arms crossed,“…This is ridiculous.”

Normally, getting dressed meant pulling on soft shorts, an oversized hoodie, maybe fuzzy socks if you weren’t planning to leave your chair for hours. Comfort was your entire brand—long gaming sessions didn’t exactly call for fashion statements. As a professional gamer, comfort was key.

But tonight? Tonight you wanted to proof your long time friend and crush wrong. Whenever the two of you got onto the subject of fashion, Kise would laugh playfully and claim that you wouldn’t be able to dress well. At least not better than he dresses.

Tonight, you would proof Ryouta wrong. He had practically dragged you out to one of his model events. And somehow, you’d let yourself get talked into this. So this was your chance!

That also meant you had to play with the big guns: The navy blue suit fit like it had been tailored just for you and your georgeous body—sharp lines hugging your waist and hips, the blazer structured but still sleek. Underneath, instead of a blouse, you wore a delicate black lace bralette, barely visible unless someone looked closely… and the subtle glint of a golden body chain beneath it added just enough edge.

The look was elegant, yet it had a dangerous touch. It wasnt you, but that was exactly the point!

“…He better appreciate this,” you muttered.

___ _ _ _

Kise was already there, of course he was. What a swot! He was surrounded by people, a whole ocean of flashing lights and buzzing voices. Completely in his element. A natural celebrity.

You took a breath and stepped into the space. This took some confidence, as you werent used to such big crowds. At you e-sports tournaments, were less people.

It didn’t take long for him to notice you. And when he did, it was well...a very Ryouta reaction.

Mid-conversation, even mid-sentence he shifted all his attention to you. Completly ignoring his conversation partner,“…Eh?”

The person he was talking to blinked,“ Uhm....Kise-kun?”

He wasn’t listening anymore. His golden eyes were locked on you as you walked closer, heels clicking softly against the floor.

“Hey,” you said casually. Silence. Then he went crazy,“WOAH—!!”

Heads turned. You winced,“Too loud—”

“Y/n-CHI?!” he practically yelped, rushing over to you,“IS THAT YOU?!”

You raised a brow,“No, I just broke into this event dressed like this for fun.”

He circled you—actually circled you—eyes wide, sparkling like he’d just discovered something incredible. “WAIT—WAIT—since when do you dress like this?!” he asked, hands flying animatedly,“This is AMAZING! The suit—oh my god, it fits you PERFECTLY—!”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sheer intensity,“I mean, yeah, I—sometimes—”

“And the color? Navy blue?? That’s, like, illegally good on you!” he continued, completely unstoppable,“And—wait—are you wearing—hold on—”

He leaned in slightly, eyes catching the subtle detail beneath your blazer. “…Is that a body chain?” he whispered, like he’d just uncovered a secret.

You smirked a little,“Maybe.”

He clutched his chest dramatically,“Y/n-chi… I think I’m gonna pass out.”

You laughed,“ God Ryouta, you’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious!” he shot back, then immediately beamed,“You look insane! Like—elegant but also super hot? I didn’t even know you had this side! I have to admit you surely know how to dress well....”

Your cheeks warmed slightly,“I just don’t dress like this at home.”

“Tragic,” he said instantly,“Absolutely tragic. I’ve been robbed.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your hand,“C’mon, c’mon—everyone needs to see this!”

“Wait—what?! Kise—!”

Too late. He was already pulling you along, proudly introducing you to anyone who would listen: “This is Y/n-chi!” // “Look at her outfit, isn’t it amazing?!” // “Right?! I know!!”

You groaned, half embarrassed—but also… weirdly pleased.He wasn’t just showing you off. He was proud. Which meant you had won.

___ _ _ _

Later that evening, you finally escaped to the terrace, the noise of the event fading into a soft hum behind you. You needed to catch a breath.

You leaned against the railing, exhaling,“Well, that was surely a lot.”

“Worth it,” Kise said immediately, stepping beside you. You glanced at him,“You’re still going?”

“Always,” he grinned. But then his expression shifted into something softer. His eyes traced over you again, slower this time. Appreciative, but less chaotic… more focused. “…Seriously, though,” he said, voice dropping just a bit,“You look incredible.”

You held his gaze,“You’ve said that like ten times.”

“I’ll say it eleven times more if I need to,” he shot back easily. You laughed quietly. A small pause settled between you. The night air was cooler out here, calmer—and the way he looked at you now felt different from inside. It made the air more electric between you.

He leaned in slightly, just enough that his voice brushed your ear: “…Damn,” he murmured,“I didn’t think I’d want to leave this event so soon…”

Your breath hitched slightly.

“…but this outfit?” he continued softly, a teasing edge slipping in,“would look even better off.”

Your face heated instantly,“Kise—!” This man was so shameless at times...but you also felt seen. Your friend and longterm crush had just confessed his feelings for you. He pulled back with a bright grin, completely unashamed,“I’m just saying~”

You shook your head, trying to hide your smile,“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he shot back instantly.

…Yeah. You definitely weren’t going back inside anytime soon.

Midorima Shintarou

You adjusted the slit of your dress and immediately regretted having legs,“…Why did I ever agree to this?”

Normally, your wardrobe consisted of soft fuzzy lounge pants, oversized sweaters (sometimes the ones Shin forgot at your house), and really whatever was closest to your bed. Being homeschooled had its perks—comfort was one of them. On the other hand, you’re also glad that the study sessions with Shin gave you a bit of a change of pace.

You used to hang out together back when you were still at his school. But since the English stream was discontinued, you’ve had to study on your own. You’d met him, and through him, his friends too. You’d been happy to have a connection in the real world. Until you fell in love with Shin.

Tonight was a theme party. Hosted by Taiga and Tetsuya. Invited were all of the the Generation of Miracles, as well as other team mates and friends. It was going to be huge.

And more importantly....You had decided to be creative.

The red satin dress shimmered under the light, hugging your body just enough to be elegant… and just risky enough to be dangerous and very sexy, yet tasteful. The high slit showed off your toned leg with every step. And your hair was neatly pinned into a bun. You felt like it made everything feel more refined.

Paired with subtle but very intentional accessories and some red heels...it was stunning. You looked like walking temptation.

Or, more accurately a red lotus. And you knew exactly whose lucky item that was today. You smiled to yourself,“…Let’s see how he handles this.”

This was your way of finding out, wether hed also harboured feelings for you.

___ _ _ _

When you arrived at Taigas apartment, it was already buzzing with energy: loud laughter, good music selected by Himuro and lots of chaos. And in between of it all, there he was.

Shintarō...He stood off to the side, posture perfect as always, glasses reflecting the light, holding what looked like a cup of liquid? (This was probably Takaos doing). He wore a rather sleek and trendy outfit, of course a red lotus charm hangs from his belt loop. Of course.

You walked toward him slowly,“…Shin.”

He turned, then paused. He adjusted his glasses, to hide what he was thinking. He opened his mouth, then paused again. Then there was a sound,“…What.”

You tilted your head innocently,“What?”

Silence. His gaze dropped—immediately catching the slit of your dress. Then suddenly snapped back up like he’d been burned.

“…What are you wearing,” he said flatly.

“A costume,” you replied sweetly, doing a small turn,“Do you like it?”

“…No,” he replied straight forward. You blinked,“Wow.”

“It’s highly inappropriate,” he continued, voice tightening,“The slit of that thing is unnecessary. The fabric is—” he cut himself off, clearly refusing to elaborate further,“You should cover yourself.”

You crossed your arms, amused,“You’re staring a lot for someone who doesn’t like it.”

“I am not staring,” he tried to defend himself. “You are,” you teased him. Clearly liking, where this was going.

“I am observing,” he stated. You stepped closer,“…Observing what exactly?”

He stiffened immediately. “…You are dressed as a red lotus,” he said, like that explained everything.

“Yes,” you said, leaning in slightly,“Your lucky item.”

He went still....like completely still,“…That is irrelevant.”

“Is it?” you hummed,“I thought lucky items were important to you.”

“They are,” he admitted.

“Then shouldn’t you… appreciate me a little more?”

A dangerous pause. His grip on his charm tightened,“…You are being troublesome.”

You smiled, slow and teasing,“Or maybe I’m being lucky.”

That did it. He looked at you again—really looked this time—and his composure cracked just a fraction,“…You should not say things like that in public.”

“Why?” you asked, completely shameless,“I’m just stating facts. I’m your lucky item tonight.”

His ears turned red,“…You are not an object.”

“Then treat me like something better.”

Silence. Suddenly, he took a step closer. A step that took him way too close. “…You are playing with probability in a very reckless way,” he muttered, voice lower now.

You raised a brow,“Oh?”

“…And I do not appreciate variables I cannot control.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you said with the biggest grin.

That was the exact moment he snapped. He decisively. grabbed your wrist—firm, controlled—and turned,“We are leaving.”

You blinked, startled but not resisting,“Wait—what?! Shin—what about the party? I just arrived...”

“It has become statistically irrelevant.”

“You also just arrived here!,” you tried to get him to stay, as he dragged you out of the apartment.

“I have seen what I needed to see,” he said, voice lower.

“And what’s that?,”you asked. Now you were ready for war, you loved teasing him to the maximum. He stopped just briefly, glancing back at you—eyes sharp behind his glasses, expression far too intense for someone who usually lectured about horoscopes.

“…That my focus has been compromised.”

Your heart skipped,“…By me?”

“…Obviously.”

You grinned,“So I am your lucky item.”

He clicked his tongue,“Do not push your luck.”

But his grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened slightly as he led you out. And as the noise of the party faded behind you, his voice dropped just enough to make your pulse spike. “…You will be held responsible for the consequences of this,” he muttered.

You laughed softly, stepping closer to him.

“Good,” you said,“I was hoping for that. Hoping I would get lucky tonight Shin.”

He adjusted his glasses again, this time, he didn’t even try to hide the faint flush on his face.

Akashi Seijuro

The ocean breeze felt different from anything you were used to.

The air was lighter, the ground beneath your feet was warmer. You felt free. You stood barefoot in the sand, staring at the reflection in your hotel window, barely recognizing the woman looking back at you.

At work/school, your world was sharp lines and structure—tailored blazers, pressed skirts, neutral tones. Everything about you was polished, controlled, intentional. Just as one would expect from the heiress of a multi-million-pound business.

But here? Everything softened. After the exams, Akashi asked you if you’d like to go on a short holiday to one of the seaside hotels run by the Akashi family. It came at exactly the right time. Between all the studying and working in the family business, there was little time for self-care. Akashi knew you just too well.

Your gaze fell once more on the woman in the window refelction. That woman wore a silky, sheer beach cover up, that flowed around your body. It was catching the wind with every small movement. Beneath it, your silhouette was impossible to ignore—curves outlined just enough to tease, not reveal. Showing hints of your swimwear. Golden body chains traced along your skin, glinting in the sunlight like delicate armor of a godess.

Your hair, usually neat and precise, now fell in loose, voluminous waves, a single flower tucked behind your ear.

You looked… stunning and dangerous, yet soft and elegant. It felt incredible. Like something out of a myth.

“…An ocean goddess,” you murmured under your breath. A small smile tugged at your lips,“Let’s see what he thinks.”

___ _ _ _

When you stepped onto the beach, Akashi was already there. He was never not prepared. Standing tall, composed as ever, the ocean stretching endlessly behind him. Even here, in a place meant for relaxation, he carried that same quiet authority—like the world naturally aligned itself around him.

You walked toward him slowly. When he heard the rustle of the sand, he turned. Not obvious to anyone else, but you, he had a little glitch in his mimic. It was unmistakable, he was taken aback. His sharp gaze swept over you, taking in every detail—the flowing fabric, the gold against your skin, the way you carried yourself so differently from your usual composed, businesslike presence.

Slowly a faint, knowing smile appeared and he approached you. Stopping just close enough.

“…Well, well,” he said, voice smooth as ever,“If this isn’t my goddess.”

Your breath caught—just slightly. You tilted your head,“Your goddess?”

“Mm.” His eyes lingered, not hurried, not careless—deliberate,“I had expected elegance.”

A pause,“…But this exceeds expectation.”

You smiled, stepping just a little closer,“Are you saying you’re surprised?”

“I am saying,” he replied calmly,"that I underestimated the extent of your… versatility.”

His gaze dropped briefly to the gold chains at your waist before returning to your eyes,"And I do not make that mistake often.”

You let out a soft laugh,“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” The breeze shifted, the fabric of your cover brushing lightly against his arm. He didn’t move away. He stepped closer.

“…You look like you belong to the sea,” he added quietly,“An untouchable, dangerous and yet tempting treasure.”

Your heart skipped,“Dangerous?”

“To anyone who underestimates you,”His voice softened—not weaker, but more intimate.

“And perhaps… to me as well.”

That was new. You searched his face, curious,“Since when are you at risk?”

He smiled faintly,“Since you decided to appear before me like this.”

Heat crept into your chest, but you didn’t back down.

“Then what will you do about it?”

A pause. He reached out, fingers brushing lightly against the strand of hair near your face, adjusting the flower just slightly.

“Adapt,” he said simply. Your breath hitched. The moment lingered—charged, quiet, the sound of waves filling the space between words.

But something had shifted. His gaze seemed to darken, not losing its composure, but gaining weight. Intent.

“…This environment is becoming less suitable,” he murmured.

You raised a brow,“The beach?”

“The distractions.”

You smirked,“Am I the distraction?”

“…You are the only one that matters.” That sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could respond, he moved. One arm slipped behind your back, the other beneath your knees—and in one smooth motion, he lifted you effortlessly.

You gasped softly,“Sei what—!”

“Relax,” he said, already turning toward the hotel,“I have no intention of dropping you my little treasure.”

“You could have just asked me to walk!”

“I could have.” A small pause,“…But I prefer this.”

You stared at him, heart racing, the ocean breeze now replaced by the steady rhythm of his steps.

“…You’re being bold.”

“I am being efficient.”

You laughed under your breath,“That’s not what this is.”

His eyes flicked down to you, calm—but unmistakably intent. “No,” he admitted quietly,“…It is not.”

Silence settled between you again—but it wasn’t empty. It was full. Heavy with everything he hadn’t said. As the hotel doors came into view, his hold on you remained steady, unwavering. Like he had already decided, there was nowhere else you were going tonight.

Atsushi Murasakibara

Usually, getting dressed meant grabbing whatever was clean—track pants, a loose T-shirt, maybe a hoodie if it was cold. Functional. Comfortable. Easy to ignore. Your training schedule meant you rarely had to dress up in your day-to-day life. Mornings were packed with school and afternoons with your volleyball training. After all, it wasn’t every day that you were selected for the national youth team.

But today... today was supposed to be special. Your crush had finally asked you out on a date, and you wanted to impress him.

You spent the whole of yesterday evening rummaging through your wardrobe trying to find something to wear. And today, too, there was a lot to think about: the weather, the venue, what you’d be doing… and after a quick call to your best friend Minnie, your outfit was sorted.

You almost didn’t recognize yourself: black ripped skinny jeans hugged you just right, the fabric torn in all the right places, shaping your legs—and yeah, your ass looked really good. The lace top added a soft, delicate contrast, hugging your torso while still feeling like you. The sheer fabric showing a little skin. Silver jewelry layered across your neck and wrists caught the light subtly, and the black arm gloves gave everything a gothic edge.

The kitten heels were the final touch—small, but enough to change how you carried yourself. The skinny jeans flared just enough at the bottom to stage up the heels.

You stared at your reflection for a second longer. “…Okay,” you muttered,“This is fine. I look fine...actually I look hot.”

___ _ _ _

Your crush, favourite little sweetie and snack lover Atsushi nicknamed Mura, was already waiting when you arrived—leaning against the wall of the bar you wanted to go to, lazily snacking on something, as usual.

Some things were predictable. He was predictable.

You took a breath and walked up,“…Hey Mura.”

He glanced over, half-lidded and uninterested like usual—and then paused mid-chew on his pocky stick.

The snack in his hand lowered slowly,“…Eh?”

You shifted your weight slightly,“What?” Shit, he didnt like the outfit? was it too much? Your thoughts ran wild.

He didn’t answer. His eyes moved—slow, heavy, taking you in piece by piece. From your heels… up your legs… lingering just a second too long at your hips… then to your waist, your top, your jewelry…

All the way back to your face.

“…That’s you?” he asked flatly.

You blinked,“Yes?? Who else would it be? Did you ask another girl out on a date????”

He frowned slightly, like he was trying to process something complicated—which, for him, probably meant he was,“…You look different.”

“Good different or weird different?,” you asked, getting nervous. He hummed, still staring. Then he took another slow bite of his snack, chewing thoughtfully,“…Both.”

You groaned,“Mura—”

He cut you off, stepping closer. And closer to you. You stiffened slightly as his shadow fell over you. Sometimes you forgot how towering tall he was. God, going on this date already had the worst start...

His gaze dropped again, more deliberate this time, less confused… more aware. “…Your butt looks nice,” he said bluntly.

You choked,“EXCUSE ME?!”

He tilted his head,“What? It does.”

Your face burned instantly,“Mura, you can’t just say that!”

“Why not?” he replied lazily,“It’s true.”

You covered your face for a second, trying to recover,“Oh my god…”

He leaned down a bit, eyes still fixed on you—but now there was something softer underneath his laziness. “…I didn’t think something sweet could get sweeter,” he added slowly.

You peeked through your fingers,“…What?” God, why was he saying shit like that?? You never had seen him flirt, so get to know this side of him, knowing he was this agressive....was shocking to be honest.

His expression didn’t change much, it never did really—but his voice dropped just enough to make your heart trip,“…and also be this sexy.”

That hit. Hard. Like really hard. Your heart sank deeper, this man was going to be the death of you. You froze completely, your brain short-circuiting for a second,“Y-you—what—since when do you say stuff like that?!”

He shrugged, completely unbothered,“Since now, I guess.”

Your heart was racing, and you hated how easily he’d done that to you.

“…You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.

“Mhm.”

There was a small pause. Then, unexpectedly, he reached down and lightly tugged at the lace sleeve near your wrist, inspecting the fabric between his fingers.

“…This is nice,” he said,“Soft. Like a mochi.”

“…It’s lace,” it just slipped out. Your mind was no longer able to think clearly.

“Mm.” His grip lingered just a second too long before he let go. Then he straightened, popping the last bit of his snack into his mouth,“…Let’s go.”

You blinked,“That’s it??”

He glanced down at you again, eyes still carrying that same quiet intensity,“…If we stay here, I’ll just keep staring.”

You flushed again,“THEN DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT!”

He turned, already starting to walk, completely ignoring your embarrassment.

“…Hurry up,” he mumbled.

You followed—trying (and failing) to calm your heartbeat.

And the whole time, you could feel it, his gaze drifting back to you every few steps.