#knb x reader insert

i match you with imayoshi shouichi

your appearance is what interested him in the first place

imayoshi’s never been affected by any of your retorts when you’re unintentionally mean; if anything, he’ll usually just tease you in reponse, something like “oh dear, how harsh of my beloved!” (feigning tears)

lots of long conversations as imayoshi loves playing the devil’s advocate

as soon as you raise an opinion about something more serious, he’ll hit you with every counter argument he can think of (highkey trying to rile you)

he usually simmers down after a bit, and will stop messing around + indulge in the conversation more seriously. prepare for some controversial opinions from the third year though (what else can you expect from someone who has been described as having a ‘horrible personality’ from hanamiya himself?)

it strikes me that, around imayoshi, you’ll find yourself bit by bit becoming less cold/distant since imayoshi can be quite easygoing/playful with you

also a favourite game of his, if you’ve been excluded from a group conversation (or have been directly ignored), is drawing attention to this - thus embarassing both the people that ignored you, and, to an extent, you too.

he just really likes watching your reactions to things, especially if he gets a rise out of you

“Honestly, I don’t give a shit,” Seto groans, looking up at the sky as he rips his hand away from your hold.

“I just,” you’re always like this - you’re always so subservient as soon as his tone takes that edge (and you're beginning to hate yourself for it), “I thought it'd be fun to celebrate Christmas together. You know, our first Christmas as a couple?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” he replies, back stiff and tone apathetic, “but don’t drag me into it. My life doesn’t revolve around you and your daydreams.”

Flinching away from his words, you make no response. Perhaps you were coming off too strong, carelessly overlooking the slight warning signs that Seto had been offering - signs that had slowly grown more hostile as the evening went on. However, was doing something together on Christmas day truly too much to ask? You understood that, of course, he'd want time with his family, but it seemed this had led you to the foolish misconception that this paralleled with the idea Seto was also looking forward to spending time with you.

Seto never sugarcoats. His words tend to burn instead.

Now, you’re left watching him walk away. That’s the end of the time together, it seems, and you’re not sure whether you should attempt to call him back or not. It’s probably not worth the risk. For the most part, Seto’s a laidback partner (he engages with jokes, agrees disinterestedly with your opinions, uses your body like a travel pillow). However, he’s got these trigger points, so subtle you barely understand them, and, even if you thought the two of you were once friends (lovers suddenly seems to bold a statement)  it’s hard not to be scared when someone two metres tall towers over you menacingly with such coldness in their eyes.

“Oh Seto,” you whisper, standing alone on the pavement. As said third-year walks away with his typical long bold strides, his shoulders grow hunched (it’s snowing heavily now, and his coat has no hood to keep him warmer) as his hands remain clenched in fists. Despite this, from a distance, he’s a sort of work of art. The streetlights illuminate his figure, emphasising his atmosphere of control; the moment's similar to a movie scene: the director angles the lights just right, and the camera’s absorbed by the beauty of the man ahead.

He looks lonely too. When you’d first met him, you’d noticed that loneliness in his walk; with his teammates, he was confident, cocky too, but, making his way back to the train station then, he'd had an almost a lost feeling about him. Almost, not considerably, very much like a broken racehorse - walking with no care for the journey nor the destination. And, watching him wander away at the time, you’d made a promise to yourself that you’d change that. Seto has never been the most energetic of people, but you’d had this dream of bringing to life an animated version - one that appeared to love life.

Fantasies, artistic fantasies, but fantasies nonetheless.

Sighing, you decide on texting him, fearing the result of leaving the day on the wrong note. “Sorry if I was annoying today,” you type out, your breath wisps of grey against the freezing air, “I understand I can get really pushy, and I’m sorry that I made you mad. I guess I was just looking forward to something for us to do together. After all, you do mean a lot to me, and I’m trying super hard to make this work, even if sometimes it feels like you don’t particularly want it to-”

The text reads as if written by a child. Shaking your head, you delete the majority of the message, leaving only the first clause. After all, it’s better not to be so desperate. He'll never like someone so pathetic.

"I'll slaughter you," he mutters, admiring the sharp silver of the knives neatly put away just across the table. And his words are a promise, rather than a threat - this time, you've gone too far. You've always pushed the boundaries, considered the rules jokes and laughed at their victims. Furuhashi's a severe man, who can handle a blade as a renowned chef does, who has no time for your facetious tomfoolery; this time you'll pay.

"Cmon Kojiro," you grin in response - that typical smirk with the same mischevious glint in your eye, "why so mad? It's just a Christmas sweater."

No, it's not, he thinks furiously to himself, it's a matter of pride, and a man has to have pride. The sleeves are beginning to unravel, the knitted red clashes horribly with his skin, and every time Furuhashi understands true suffering every time he looks at the creepy dwarf-elf hybrid that's been knitted by an elementary school kid across the front. All this misery just from losing at a game of cards (he's sure you cheated; you had that look about you, but he couldn't find any conclusive evidence otherwise). He's never seen a larger jeer on your face as when you presented his punishment.

"It's just a sign of friendship, you know? You're making me so happy Kojiro - don't ruin it now."

"I'd rather shoot myself then make you happy," he replies under his breath, calculating how quickly he can reach over - grab a knife - and clean up the crime scene before anyone comes around.

"Kinky."

i match you with furuhashi kojiro

furu and you have a pretty quiet relationship

like you, he doesn’t talk so much but the two of you often communicate through actions (like prolonged contact, the hint of a shrug: no one else understands it) 

furu really likes listening to you play the piano, even if he never says it, and the two of you will often read together (furu reads a lot of classic japanese literature and he’ll try to convert you to reading more of them too. if you haven’t read no longer human, you will do.)

also furu probably watches you when you draw/paint (it’s soothing but he won’t admit that)

at some point, the two of you will definitely have a massive argument. 

you’ve been bottling up all your emotions/anxiety, but furuhashi presumes you’re apathetic like he is pretty much all the time. he’s not sure how to approach you having emotions all of a sudden? but after that’s resolved, you’re more open with him.

your patience will come in handy in terms of his stubbornness (though don’t presume you’ll ever be able to change his style of playing basketball)

i can see the two of you definitely having long conversations about psychology, probably with pretty differing opinions.

furuhashi indulges your perfectionism too. if you’re ever stressing that you haven’t gotten something right, he will just go “yeah, it sucked.”

"If she could shut the fuck up," he groans, covering his ears with pillows.

Matsumoto Itsuki isn't the world's top Christmas fan - for him, the holiday is a mixture of a waste of time, pointless commercialisation, and the stressful event that is buying suitable presents. Typically, he enjoys his December either with friends (none of them are particularly fond of the season tool, and it's an amusing adventure when they all go off trying to find a cinema playing non-festive film) or he relaxes, Christmas-free, in his room. That's exactly how he likes it. Plus, at home, there are no poor taste Christmas decorations (he makes sure of that), and, with a cup of cocoa, he enjoys the snow outside for it being snow. It's not, as he's often thought to himself, Santa's preparatory fog.

Unfortunately, this year, he's got a new neighbour. Said new neighbour, apparently, takes a somewhat different approach to Christmas. Matsumoto presumes this, rightly, from the poor quality "ho ho ho" sign on their front door, their 'elves always invited' welcome mat, and the fact they keep blasting Christmas songs on repeat and Matsumoto can't fucking stand it. Santa's baby can go stuff itself, everyone already knows it's cold outside, and global warming means Christmas probably won't be so white anyway. Perhaps, if you'd turn the volume down just a touch (so Matsumoto wouldn't have to suffer in such misery - how do your speakers even play so loudly?), then everyone could be satisfied. After all, Matsumoto's not the Grinch (at least that's what he likes to think), he doesn't get too irritated by people going around in the festive spirit, he just appreciates his peace and quiet and appreciates it even more when it hasn't been ruined by the scream of "all I want for Christmas is you".

The boy's tired of suffering. He decides to confront you.

Dressed in all black, scowling (your music's given him a migraine - he's trying hard not to scare you), he knocks twice on your door. No response. You probably can't hear him above Jingle Bell Rock, which has now started playing. Knocks again, harder this time, ever so tempted to throw a kick in whilst he's at it. To put it frankly, the more time he has to waste on this <i>pest control</i>, the better.

Luckily, this time the door opens.

"Oh hey," you pause, obviously with no idea as to who he is and unsure on why he looks like he wants to beat you up, "can I ...help you?"

"Turn the music down." Okay, maybe that sounds stupid, and a tad bit aggressive. Matsumoto rephrases. "I'm from the flat to your left - you're playing your music pretty loud, and I've got a migraine so would it be okay if you'd turn it down?"

Nodding, you make as if to go quieten it immediately, "sorry to be such a bother! I'll do it right away! Just a massive fan of the Christmas season, you know?"

eyyy hope you’re doing good too! :D

In the beginning, Yamazaki hated you.

There was something so comfortable - so smug - in your behaviour, and it riled him up considerably. You lived a life of absolute luxury, with all the household racing to atone to your every need. (Your brother was your loyal companion but equally utterly terrifying to those under his command - none of the servants dared to disobey you for fear of his hand.) What you wanted, you received: the most exquisite dresses, the richest meats, the fastest horses. And Yamazaki despised it.

Unlike you, Yamazaki knew of his luck to have merely found a job, and he worked desperately hard to keep it. Life as a stable lad under the [L/N] family was a significant step up from the poverty he’d been born into. The family’s keen interest in riding meant Yamazaki had had the opportunity of working with horses whose price tag he couldn’t have even imagined, and, once he’d proved himself to be a strong rider, he’d even been allowed the privilege of exercising these fine steeds from time to time. Galloping across the moors freed him in ways nothing else could.

However, the two of you’s mutual adoration of riding had made it impossible for him to avoid you.

“Yamazaki,” you’d called on him many a time, “brother’s off to do business, but he said I could go out if you accompanied me. Go saddle up two horses; be quick about it.”

“M’lady,” he nodded, leading your horse to the front of the yard - a dainty mare with the spirit of a foal but the lightness in the mouth of an experienced ride.

It was on these hacks, he found himself hating you less. A rider who respects another rider’s seat on a horse struggles to dislike them. And you rode magnificently; there was a bond between you and your mare, a loyalty forged in steel, which he had to admire. When you urged her over hedges or leant slightly forward in the saddle as she picked up a canter, Yamazaki watched how in sync you two were - it was as if there was one being galloping beside him, not two.

He adored watching you ride, and he hated himself for it.

One day, you surprised him.

“Yamazaki, you know, for a stable lad, you ride him,” you gestured to the stallion he was busy sponging down, “remarkably well - better than my brother, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“You’re too kind, m’lady,” responded Yamazaki, turning towards the horse to hide the threat of a blush that was rising up his cheeks.

From then on, he found that he could hold no more hostility towards you, and those occasional rides as a pair became the highlights of his weeks. Sometimes, you would watch him ride your mare (you laughed at his hesitance, “I thought you rode better than me, Hiroshi!”), or you would spend a little longer after the ride - watching him care for the horses, offering to help in vain (”your hands cannot be sullied, m’lady,” he sighed, with a hint of a tease in his tone). Yamazaki had spent the majority of his life working alone, yet your company grew quickly to be something he was unable not to long for.

“It’s a shame you are who you are, Hiroshi,” you commented one sundown, as the two of you trotted back to the estate through the brief section of forest on the [L/N] land, “your background is what makes you so you, if you understand, but it’s what separates us too.”

Yamazaki coughed awkwardly, looking away, with red cheeks.

“We can be free from all that, [Y/N], when we ride.”

eyyy hello again friend :D

his mother knows literally nothing

hanamiya is very careful to make sure he’s the perfect son for her

he worries, if she were to find out, she’d blame herself for there not being a father figure, that that’s the reason hanamiya’s like this 

she’s seen his games but never noticed his types of play for two reasons

a) (like you said) hanamiya tells the rest to play less aggressively, and more subtly

b) she doesn’t notice because she thinks the best of him

the idea that her son would be injuring others doesn’t occur to her so she doesn’t “see” him doing it

if a particular serious accident happens

he plays it off as a “tough” sport, she spends a lil time worrying about him 

he’s not keen on her watching his matches

although there is always that warm feeling whenever she shows up

(feeling happy that she remembered him etc) 

there’s also too much at stake for him to be able to fully enjoy it

she presumes it’s just cause he’s a teenage boy, embarassed by his mother 

whenever the main 6 play like 3 v 3 (split the team) casually in a street court or something

she’ll usually come along, watch them, bring refreshements

the rest of them are always very tactful with her too

after all, they wouldn’t want their parents to find out either

furu’s lowkey yandere or smth here, i apologise for that xx

He watches.

Furuhashi is naturally quiet - he prefers to examine the movements of those around him, study the little emotions that flicker onto their face, rather than getting to involved with the drama of continuous conversation. How Hara manages it, he doesn’t understand; Furuhashi is talented in many ways but people exhaust him more than long matches ever will.

Then there came the time you became more present in his life. Not that you were with him, (oh no, no one every noticed Furuhashi - the dark aura in the corner), but you’d be there fighting Hanamiya with words as he laughed at your witty comments before hitting you back with ones of his own. The whole team had long come to the realisation that, sooner or later, the two of you would be in a relationship; after all, this was the closest Hanamiya had come to romantic interest in a while.

And, as Seto made a comment about getting invited to the wedding, Furuhashi sat in the corner, waiting, watching.

Eventually, Furuhashi decided he was too quiet for you to walk away from Hanamiya and even a fool could have told by now how much Hanamiya was interested in you. 

That was okay.

His heart was burning but that was okay.

But Furuhashi’s confident in his own abilities, confident in his talent to injure others, and he hates feeling pain - he prefers watching it in the faces of others. He’s a man of many plans, someone who’s taught himself just how to weave a web just as well as his captain. It will only take a few words sprinkled gently to push you away from Hanamiya and, as soon as you step away from the second year, there will be no one to turn to.

No one except Furuhashi, watching in the corner.