#aomine drabble

[lamnwar]

daiki who's frustrated by reader not getting a hint and telling everyone that ask about them that it's "platonic" and that he doesn't want them like that, which is utter bullshit and daiki is sick and tired of repeating himself

it's almost as if you do it on purpose and honestly, if you don't want him, you should reject him already! because it's clearly not platonic when he drinks in your glass and eats in your plate, and it's not platonic when he puts sunscreen on your back when you go to the beach together, or when he falls asleep on your lap during your weekly movie night

and it's definitely not platonic when he's just drunk enough to whisper in your ear that he wants you so fucking bad that it physically hurts and that he will wait for you if you ever stop lying to yourself and to everyone else

because, deep down, you damn know that there's nothing platonic with how much he occupies your mind and makes your heart race

[pocoyo-yo]

- smut, black!coded reader, f/m, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, crying (y/n tho lol), crude language, mating press (pos.), overstimulation -

FRESHLY MANICURED NAILS clawed at the wrinkled pink sheets of your bed. your tangled, newly installed weave was sprawled across your many plump pillows. you were practically folded in half— ankles dangled by your ears and your body felt sticky with sweat and cum.

"take it, baby— give me another one 'n cum on this dick.."

his words went through one ear and out the other while he pounded his cock in your tight pussy. your toes curled at the feeling of overstimulation flowing through your veins— watering eyes flickering to the back of your head. you moaned softly and tears fluttered down your hot cheeks. everytime his wet cock split apart your creamy folds; you squealed— biting don hard on your bottom lip. the wet ripples of your skin with every slap of his hips against yourself filled the room.

"s— stop," you sobbed and hiccuped on moans as his thumb raked circles over your swollen clit. ".. 'can't cum no more! stop p— please!"

"yes you can— now shut the fuck up 'n take it, pretty." he grunted— harsh breaths left his red lips.

you furrowed your brows and glanced down. your tits bounced on par with each of his thrusts and your tummy jiggled— his pace was unforgiving. the pads of his rough fingers rubbed the sensitive bud which made little whimpers flow from your sore throat.

"no! no! i— i'm.." you jerked your hips back— the feeling was overwheming.

he pressed his body closer to your own— your arousal coated his dick with ever every thrust. a creamy, white ring formed around the base— his cum from previous rounds smeared on your inner thighs and leaked from your hole.

"ya wanted this— walked around like a slut in public just beggin' to get fucked," he raised his slightly hand and slapped your clit. "now you got my dick but y're still complainin.."

you whined, "I— I'm not! baby please..!"

"baby please," he mocked— a wide grin spreading across his face. ".. now make me cum— it's all yours, mama."

CHARACTERS - TOJI, SUKUNA, todo, reiner, CONNIE, eren, MIGUEL O'HARA, draken, HANMA, TAIJU, sanemi, AOMINE

[lynnaredfield3383]

College Aomine

"Mind if I sit here?"

You looked up into a pair of gorgeous sapphire eyes and smiled.

"Go ahead," you nodded to the empty seat.

He smiled, and your heart picked up speed. Damn, nobody should have a smile like that. A second later, you caught a whiff of his cologne. It wasn't overpowering but nice. You paid no attention to him once the class started, your mind always on school.

"Alright, pair up for this project, and on your way out, tell me who you partnered with."

"Partners?"

You looked over at the guy with sapphire eyes and nodded. Why not? You didn't have to deal with the embarrassment of being picked last.

"Sure. L/N, Y/N."

"Aomine Daiki."

You took his hand, and the warmth of it made you smile. On your way out, you gave the teacher your names, and Aomine waited for you outside.

"So, you wanna meet at the library around 7?"

Aomine cocked an eyebrow at you, smirking.

"That's kinda late."

"Well, I've heard the basketball practices can go to 9 & since I saw your jacket, I figured 7 would be a fair time for the nights you don't have practice."

"Don't wanna give me your number?" Aomine teased.

"Not really. It's not personal, I just don't know you that well."

"It's for a project. And I'm a jock not a creep," Aomine smiled.

"I will take your word for it, but here's my email address. We can exchange our drafts and such when we can't meet up."

Aomine scoffed, but he still wore an amused expression.

"You don't trust easily, do you? Or is it just jocks?" Aomine asked.

"I...I recently had an experience that reminded me not to trust so easily."

"Shit. Sorry, I was joking. But I can kick someone's ass if ya want. Privilege of being my project partner," Aomine smirked.

"Thanks, but I handled it. I have to get to my next class, but we'll talk soon."

Aomine fell in step beside you, surprising you. He chuckled as his eyes roamed over you.

"You really are clueless, aren't ya? I'm in 3 of your classes."

"Oh. I don't really notice anyone unless they talk to me. I try to keep to myself and stay out of trouble."

"Sounds boring," Aomine sighed.

"Yep. Just the way I like it," you responded confidently.

Aomine looked at you and smiled. Fuck, why were you so damn confident? It was the sexiest thing he'd encountered. Sure, you had the perfect figure that he preferred, but that's not what he noticed. Not at first. How could he when you wore clothes two sizes bigger than you?

"Really? What's your idea of a fun Friday night?" Aomine asked.

"Movies and snacks or reading a book."

"I could get on board with the movie night, but don't you read enough for classes?"

"Yes, but it's different when I'm reading something I truly enjoy."

"Oh boy, let me guess. Romance novels? Or worse, those lovey mangas."

"A little judgy, aren't you?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled, opening and holding the door for you before following you into class.

"They're so fake. They give women unrealistic expectations."

Aomine smirked when you looked back at him in surprise. Sure, he was taking what Satsuki had said about his porn magazines and using it, but how would you ever know?

"Big words. I read adventure or history books. I like to learn. As I said, I'm boring."

Aomine eyed you carefully as you sat down. Boring. You sure threw that word around a lot. It made Aomine wonder if you were throwing up a smokescreen.

"So, no parties or drinking or clubs and dancing?" Aomine asked.

"One frat party to keep an eye on my cousin last Friday, but never again."

"Bet I can change your mind," Aomine smiled.

"Good luck."

Aomine chuckled, watching you get all serious for class. Not for one second did he believe you were boring.

[adiraargent]

How Daiki Aomine likes to show affection

wc:0.9k Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, swearing summary: just cute things Daiki does to show you he loves you :P

The sun had barely risen when Daiki found you in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and humming a tune. You knew he had practice this morning so you wanted to make him some breakfast that he could eat before he went so he wouldn't have an empty stomach.

He sidled up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck, a warm smile playing on his lips as his large body enveloped yours.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he mumbled, peppering your neck with soft kisses, his kisses tickling your skin, making you pull away slightly with a few giggles falling from your mouth. His grip on your waist made it impossible for you to actually move away from him.

You laughed, turning your head slightly to steal a quick peck on his cheek. "Hey, you're gonna distract me, and then these pancakes will burn."

A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes, and he tightened his hold around you. "I'd rather have you than perfect pancakes," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Daiki... you have training," you reminded him, your tone firm

He spun you around, hoisting you up onto the bench and stepped between your legs, holding your thighs apart with his hands as he leant forward, a smirk on his lips, "Training can wait... I want my breakfast first"

You push him back with a laugh and hop off the bench, going back to the pancakes and quickly flipping them, "sorry Dai, not this morning."

His affectionate nature often spoke louder than words. Daiki had his own way of expressing love without needing to say those three little words outright. Forehead kisses were his specialty, his lips meeting your forehead with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his feelings.

As the morning sun painted the kitchen in hues of gold, Daiki pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. It was a silent promise, an unspoken declaration of his affection.

He noticed a few stray strands of hair falling over your face and tucked them behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. "There," he said, a small smile gracing his lips. "Now I can see your beautiful face properly."

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his presence. It was those little gestures, the way he'd interlace his fingers with yours unexpectedly or pull you into a sleepy back hug while you cooked, that made your heart flutter.

"Want me to help?" Daiki asked, his chin resting on your shoulder as he reached for a spatula, his closeness adding a sense of comfort to the morning routine.

"Nah, I've got this," you replied, feeling his arms still wrapped around you, a sense of contentment settling within.

His protectiveness often shone through in subtle ways. Walking down a busy sidewalk, Daiki would switch positions with you, guiding you to the safer side, always keeping a watchful eye to ensure your safety.

Even in the busiest of mornings, when his off days clashed with your work commitments, Daiki's playful clinginess never wavered. He'd hold you a little longer, steal a few extra kisses, and reluctantly let go when it was time for him to leave.

"Hey, I remembered you mentioned liking this snack," Daiki grinned, producing a pack of your favourite treats as he returned home from training. "Thought it'd make your day better."

It was those thoughtful gestures that made your heart swell. Daiki always seemed to remember the little things, the details that made you feel seen and appreciated.

During his overseas trips for games, Daiki would often send pictures of random things he saw, every single one a silent reminder of you. A text accompanied each picture, a simple 'reminded me of you.'

In social situations that made you uneasy, Daiki's reassuring grip on your hand grounded you. He'd squeeze your hand gently, offering silent support throughout the event, his presence a calming anchor in a sea of discomfort.

Sometimes, tears would fall, and Daiki would kiss them away, his touch a balm to your pain. He never hesitated to let you cry on his shoulder, his t-shirt soaked with your tears, never once complaining.

"Everything okay?" Daiki would ask, concern etched on his face, always meeting you where you were, emotionally and mentally.

He wholeheartedly supported your dreams, making concrete plans and ensuring they came to fruition. Daiki would often drop encouraging texts before an important event, his words a source of strength.

Surprises were his forte. He'd bring home flowers for you, just because. No occasion, no reason, only his desire to see you smile.

If he was ever away for basketball, each morning and night, a text would pop up on your phone. "Good morning," or "Goodnight," accompanied by a heart emoji or a simple 'miss you.'

His way of saying 'I love you' without uttering the words explicitly extended to the little details. Daiki made you a Spotify playlist, songs that reminded him of your relationship or just songs he thought you would like. His memory was impeccable, recalling your preferences and quirks with ease.

One day, as you studied, flipping through pages of your textbook, you found post-its with little notes Daiki had left for you. Words of encouragement, doodles, and hearts, all scattered within the pages, each note bringing a smile to your face.

Hope you liked it ;P Written by: adiraargent Please do not take credit, steal, or repost anywhere else Requests are open :)

[1lenii]

KNB X TALL!Reader

(Might make a fic or hcs)

Some of the boys I think prefer tall s/o

One of these boys being Murasakibara, he seems like one to want a tall s/o as to not wanting to always lean down(could possibly b straining or even annoying)

Or even Aomine who would probably love a tall s/o and for the girls he would love that model look, as canonically he’s into pornos and things like that

I’m a strong believer Akashi, Kagami and Kiyoshi would love a tall s/o as well

Akashi admiring them but if your short he would like it too, he’s not rejecting it if anything he doesn’t mind your height.

Kagami would love a tall s/o for things such as basketball practice and having a opponent on par and realistic to the height of a real game

Kiyoshi is a soft giant, so he would probably love a tall s/o, something about shoulders touching while on date or what not🤷🏽‍♀️

Also we just need more tall s/o fanfics for the lovely tall people<33

But as always anything is up for discussion!! Much love ❀

[long-manic-nights]

October 1st: Love bites/Bruises

Kagakuro

He didn’t mean to, he swears. He didn’t notice his own teeth biting down the soft flesh or his hands closing around the pale skin of his boyfriend’s forearm. He doesn’t think he should be blame for it, anyways; he’s allowed to lose his mind a little bit every now and then, especially when Kuroko is pressed against the wall, arm behind his back as Kagami, brutal and out of his mind, keeps him in place.

He didn’t notice he was grabbing him hard enough to leave marks, but what was he supposed to do when Kuroko sits on his lap and kisses his neck, and he simply can’t help but tighten the grip on the tender flesh of his hips, force them to move and moan against him?

He gets desperate, maybe a little too enthusiastic, when he’s deep inside him, looking at the expose skin of his neck, feeling his pulse as he licks and sucks and bites. He can’t be blame for it, he can’t be blame for the marks he leaves behind, the reminders of loving nights and lazy mornings. So, he’ll keep biting down but he’ll be so, so, so sorry for it.

Aokise

Aomine knows he can’t leave marks on Kise. No bruises, no love bites, nothing. Kise’s manager would personally kill him if he did, and he’s as scared of her as he is of Akashi. His little sunshine, on the other hand, doesn’t have that problem nor a sense of shame to stop him from sliding his nails down his boyfriend’s chest, stab them on his back as hard as he can, bite down the muscular neck to drown his moans while getting fuck against the wall.

Ryouta always does and gets what he wants, because Daiki has lost the ability to say no to him a long time ago, so if he wants to suck and bite and lick him all over, he will allow it; if he wants to mark him over and over again until the hickeys are impossible to hide from his mother and coach, he’ll let him.

It doesn’t matter how much he wants to do the same thing to the model’s beautiful skin, he can’t, he won’t. How could anyone make a mess of such a work of art?

Midotaka

Midorima is smart enough to know Takao is way out of his league, he’s also smart enough to know there’s nothing to worry about because his boyfriend would never cheat. So, he isn’t sure when it started to bother him as much as it does now, when the incessant and rude flirting became impossible to ignore. Some of their classmates have no shame and do it right there, in front of him like he isn’t standing next to Kazu; they ask him out, make implicit sexual advances or comments.

Takao never says yes, of course, doesn’t even entertain the idea of going on a date with them. The point guard shuts them up, looks at them with the kind of eyes that can make anyone feel small and humiliated, or, in the moments he’s too done with it, he laughs at them.

Still, Midorima gets territorial. He leaves his teeth mark on his boyfriend’s throat, lips bruised after aggressive make-out sessions on the school’s bathrooms, his hands printed on his body and a slightly rough voice after fucking his face too hard. He makes sure they are visible at all times, that everyone can see where Kazu belongs to.

 

Kiyohana

Hanamiya never makes empty threats, so when he said Riko’s name with a smile on his face, Kiyoshi simply couldn’t help it and just threw a punch to his face that made him crashed against the lockers. His nose bleeding and Seirin’s little teddy bear looked so horrified, he had to laugh.

The big hand grabbed him by the neck before he could react and slammed him on the lockers again; for a second everything was blurry and confusing until he recovered only to find an unnatural ragging look on the taller one’s eyes who tightened his throat more and he just…couldn’t look away. He’s not sure why he kissed him, or why Teppei let him.

There was biting, and shoving, and slapping, and hairpulling. There was blood and sweat; tiny tears and gagging when Kiyoshi’s cock forced its way down his throat over and over again. There was more, and harder, and deeper and don’t stop fucking me.

Harder, harder, harder…chock me harder, slap me harder, fuck me harder and let me fall to the ground when you finish with me. Leave marks on me: black bruises and hickeys. Bite my shoulder until I bleed, I promise I’ll do the same. Squeeze my hips as hard as you can so I can see your hands there tomorrow, I promise I’ll dig my fingernails so deep on your back it’ll take weeks to heal.

Hurt me so bad you cry when you see what you have done.

Teppei remembers that day like the hottest and most disturbing of his life. Seeing Hanamiya fell to the floor, bruised and shaking, was a nightmare or a prize, a living trophy or the reason he’ll be attending to therapy for the next three years, begging to hear he isn’t a monster.

[ballblender]

genuinely begging for some kuroko no basket scenarios lmfao MY MIND IS BLANK

[yourrrpookie]

❚█══ Fallen Star ══█❚

“Hard not to fall for you I gave you all my heart”

╰☆ Nyx ☆╮

Black fem. She/her. Art and music lover. ✝️. I don’t write smut but please send requests!!

[queenthevampire]

Desafio de Drabble

Faz um tempo que não publico sobre escrita, e dessa vez venho com uma fic de KNB. Antes de qualquer outra coisa, devo dizer que drabbles são histórias curtas com exatas 100 palavras por capítulo.

Sinopse

Ser a namorada do camisa 5 nunca foi fácil, mas a jovem Lara jamais pensou em abrir mão disso. Mesmo que, às vezes, Aomine Daiki fosse um completo esquecido e adorasse tirá-la do sério.

Classificação: 16+

Personagens: Aomine Daiki, Personagem Original Gêneros: Comédia, Romance, Ecchi, Amizade Avisos: Álcool, Linguagem Imprópria

[reverie-starlight]

I miss knb and I wanted to write something for aomine :’) I’ve never written for him and it’s been a while since I’ve watched the show, so forgive me if you feel that his characterization is a bit off. hello from late january cause that’s when I’m queuing this 👋🏻

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. lots and lots and lots of fluffy pet names bc that’s the focus of the drabble. he calls you shnookums once just to annoy you bc he’s a little shit. that’s a warning in itself tbh. mentions of alcohol/drunk character. characters written as adults, not high schoolers.

aomine has specific nicknames for you depending on the situation you find yourselves in.

he reserves “babe” or some shortened variation of your name for when you’re in public.

it’s quick, it’s casual, and it doesn’t get him a lecture on why it’s not funny to very loudly address you as “shnookums” when you get separated at the grocery store.

(though in his defence, he thought it worked wonders. you were back at his side within seconds after straying too far on accident with a half embarrassed, half pissed off look on your face. he thought it was hilarious.)

~~~

he calls you “baby” when he greets you after a long day at work. when he’s picking you up from your classes. normally only in your presence, because he doesn’t need the teasing remarks about how soft he’s become from his teammates.

not that he really cares at the end of the day- he’ll call you what he wants to call you (provided you also like it, of course) but there’s something less casual about it that makes him want to keep it just for you.

that “something” being the time you got drunk and offhandedly mentioned loving the way it sounds in his voice. he now gets to enjoy the small, barely noticeable uptick of your lips whenever he opts for it. no one else gets to see that.

he’ll help you with your coat and press a kiss to your hairline, murmuring a soft “hey baby, missed you today”.

it’s probably the most common of the names he uses on you out of all the available options.

~~~

he saves the saccharine pet names for when he knows you’re not feeling your best. whether you’re mentally drained, physically exhausted or sick to any degree, there’s never not a time when hearing him be sickeningly sweet with you doesn’t ease the pain.

“need anything else, sweetheart?”

“how are you feeling, gorgeous?”

“yeah, we can cuddle, doll, c’mere.”

these are also the times he plays up the compliments (more than usual).

“even when you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. don’t let it get to your head, though. or do- I know how to deal with that just fine, too.”

~~~

he doesn’t have one set nickname for you when you visit him at practice, but when you watch him play in an official game?

as long as you’ve known him, he’s never believed in luck- he got himself to where he is with his skills, luck had nothing to do with it.

so it surprises you the first time he refers to you as his good luck charm. it’s not said in some grand gesture, not brought up in those fluff promotional interviews when reporters ask him if he has one.

it’s whispered quietly into your ear before he jogs onto the court.

a murmured thank you against your lips as soon as he’s running off again, high on a win, straight to you.

you ask him about it one day and he just shrugs. “everything is different now. I play better when I know you’re watching, it’s energizing in a way I’ve never felt before. you’re right, I still don’t believe in luck, but somehow I was able to find you. and I don’t know if I would call that luck, either, but until I find a better way to explain it you’re just gonna have to put up with that title a bit longer.”

so you do, without complaints, because it’s cute trying to watch him convey his feelings honestly and still in a very aomine way.

~~~

your absolute favourite nickname that he’s given you, though? angel.

you’re his angel.

the title is first appointed when you pick him up one night from a bar after celebrating with his team. his usually brooding expression visibly lights up when he sees you and he makes his way over. it’s been a while since he’s been this drunk, so it makes you laugh when he stumbles over and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“what a sweetheart, you really came to pick me up?”

you scoff and try to get him into the car, waving at his teammates who were staying with him until you got there. “what, baby, you thought I wouldn’t?”

he shrugs with an absentminded grin. “it’s just nice to have a… battle angel or whatever that term is. I dunno what it is.”

you can’t help but laugh. “you mean a guardian angel?”

“same thing, you knew what I meant!” his words are slurred and he’s now leaning his entire body weight against you.

“oh you are so wasted, daiki, let’s get you home.”

and it’s whispered again at home as he’s falling asleep, “my angel… thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

your heart squeezes.

now it’s reserved for only the most intimate of moments with him- he doesn’t want to overuse the name and risk it losing its meaning.

because it does hold a deeper, unspoken meaning between the two of you.

after a long time apart because of his away games? after he wins an important match? loses a match and he’s thankful you’re there with him? you get a promotion at work? you pass a difficult class with flying colours? all situations where he’d call you angel.

he has a full arsenal of names for you, clearly, and you love every single one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this feels a bit messy. even after editing, I feel like the quality went down a bit, so we’ll see if I end up posting it. but I love him a lot and I’ve been rewatching knb, so I needed to do something for him to keep the brainrot at bay.

tagging: @dira333

[mercuriians]

Heyyyyyyy, I say your requests are open and I was wondering if you could write the GoM (Knb) reacting to their gf wrapping WAP?

Can be Sfw Or nsfw...or both?

Thank youuuuuuu

rap god(dess)

content info — fem! reader, suggestive gom drabbles (all separate, characters assumed to be aged up), slight crack sprinkled in. NSFW in aomine & kise's parts. minors beware. based on the song by cardi b & megan thee stallion.

word count — 2.5k words.

author’s note — thank you for the req!! this was pretty fun to write ngl. i told myself i was only going to write around three paragraphs per character, but well, things did not go according to plan lol. sorry for the delay, i hope the length makes up for it!

MIDORIMA.

quite frankly, with the vivid blush currently illuminating the boy's face, midorima looks like the perfect mascot for christmas. but really, no one can blame him. no, not when vulgar, obscene lyrics are effortlessly spilling from his girlfriend's lips like melted gold. maybe he should have predicted this in hindsight, midorima thinks to himself, brows furrowed. you did tend to have a bit of a surprisingly dirty mind hidden behind your unassuming personality.

"why are you singing such a crude song?" midorima utters, a frown etched onto his sharp features. to his chagrin, he recognizes it, having heard from takao of how popular the track was in america.

midorima makes no effort to stop you, however. he remains firmly by the doorway. it's as if he's transfixed by your confident voice and your improvised but smooth movements. he can't quite remember the last time he saw you dance, much less rap. it's a bit embarrassing to admit—for him, at least—but right now, you look undeniably attractive, with your swaying body and carefree grin.

obstinately, he conceals his growing arousal with a wince.

"now from the top, make it drop, that's some wet ass pussy!" you rap before finally looking over to where midorima stands stiffly. in a deceptively innocent manner, you wave to him. "you wanna join in on the fun, shin?" you ask, as if you don't already know what the answer will be. your fingers move to quickly smooth out your shirt.

the basketball player clicks his tongue. "i don't have time for that nonsense," he replies in his usual matter-of-fact tone, pushing his glasses up for good measure. still, it doesn't look like you're convinced, and for some reason your eyes are trailing lower and lower down his tall figure.

midorima feels himself panic.

you meet his gaze, giving the basketball player a sly smirk. unfortunately he already knows what you're going to say before the words even leave your mouth. "alright, but your body," you gesture towards the tent in his jeans, "is saying otherwise." the poor boy promptly chokes on his saliva.

KISE.

it only takes a moment for kise's silky voice to mix with your own. before he even reaches you, he's rapping, lyrics easily slipping from his lips as if he's rehearsed them a hundred times before. in all seriousness, he has. that's the reason why kasamatsu hit him square on the head last week, with a bit more force than usual.

but you don't need to know that. kise reaches for your phone on the living room table, lowering the song's volume just a little so that he can hear your combined voices better. "spit in my mouth, look at my eyes. this pussy is wet, come take a dive," you both sing in unison, turning to look at each other with the same stupid lopsided grin.

the song rolls on and along the way, you and kise formulate some dance moves to accentuate the musical experience. some are undoubtedly silly, with kise, for example, waving his arms around and making exaggerated facial expressions. it's all meant to withdraw a laugh from you, of course, and it works. but then there are the other types of dance moves.

the ones that exude a sensuous kind of aura, where hips sway and gyrate lecherously, where eyes become heavy with fervor and lust. these dances are the most dangerous, undoubtedly, because of the temptations that they entail. a person might become consumed by the reckless desire that burns within their stomach if they aren't careful. and then suddenly, the atmosphere can change with just a blink of an eye.

that's exactly what happens the moment you impulsively decide to push kise down onto a chair and give him a lap dance. the way you move your body is shockingly fluid, and you seem to know just what to do to arouse the blonde even more. there are some small pauses here and there as you decide which moves to try next, but kise hardly notices them when you're biting your lip like that. it's only inevitable for him to lose all sense of self-control, really. soon he becomes focused on getting your shirt off, no longer paying any attention to the song on loop.

"fuck, ryouta!” you moan as you unabashedly bounce on your boyfriend’s cock, arms loosely wrapped around his toned shoulders. “nngh, feels so good—” the way the chair wobbles and shakes should be concerning, but quite clearly neither of you can care less at the moment.

kise’s warm, large hands rest comfortably on your hips, occasionally squeezing your ass whenever the pleasure feels particularly intense. “just like that, babe, yeah,” he pants, rolling his hips to meet yours. “you’re doing so well for me, aren’t you, (name)-cchi?” he reaches up to cup your face in his hand, leaning forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss. his tongue swirls around yours, and kise can’t help but groan into your open mouth.

needless to say, you both are too preoccupied to notice when the song finally ends.

AOMINE.

aomine hasn’t even entered the club room yet when he hears the echo of your voice. he’s heard you rap before, so he knows that you’re actually quite skilled at it. still, this particular performance is quickly turning out to be his definite favorite so far. he briskly walks down the hallway, a little too eager to see his stunning girlfriend. you don’t disappoint, of course.

you’re flipping your hair sassily, using your half-full water bottle as your makeshift microphone while you dance around the vacant area. aomine watches you, wholly enraptured, an amused smirk pulling at his lips but with his eyes already clouded with lust. “hop on top, i want a ride. i do a kegel while it’s inside,” you rap, still blissfully unaware of the one-man audience that you now have. aomine almost doesn’t want to interrupt your singing session, just so he can continue to see you in your element. which happens to be sexy as hell.

“you want a ride, huh?” aomine chuckles lowly, making you drop your water bottle out of alarm. he walks over to where you stand, leaning down to whisper in your ear so he can mess with you. “could’ve just asked, baby.”

suddenly all your confidence seems to evaporate, terminated by that single sentence. your cheeks darken into a rosy shade. aomine grins, taking pride in how all too easy it was to make you flustered. “what?” he asks, feigning innocence. “lost your voice or something?”

“you’re a jerk,” you mutter, reaching up so you can hit the basketball player in the chest. the music is still playing in the background, unaffected by aomine’s antics, but it seems like you’re too embarrassed to continue rapping. the boy only stares down at you, smirk never once faltering. “pick up my water bottle, daiki, you made me drop it.”

aomine shrugs. “you’re closer to the ground,” he responds casually. he’s well aware that the comment is a bit out of pocket—you never did like to be teased about your height—but he really can’t control himself when he’s around you. especially in the state he’s in right now.

“oh come on,” you groan, feeling frustration well up within your chest along with your embarrassment. still, you bend down to pick up the bottle, completely oblivious to the lustful thoughts that swarm aomine’s head. a startled gasp rips past your throat when you feel his large, calloused hands grab hold of your hips. however, quicker than you would like to admit, the surprise shifts into arousal the moment the basketball player presses his bulge against your ass.

with his fingers already tugging your skirt down, aomine breathes out, “since you like that song so much, you wanna act it out?”

your eyes widen, and you try to think straight, try to be a responsible manager, but the way he grinds against you so deliciously starts to scramble any coherent thought you may have had. “wait, d-daiki— satsuki and sakurai are still cleaning up the gym,” you protest weakly, those words being your last line of defense. not that they would have worked.

“doesn’t matter,” he practically growls, tugging you up so that your back rests against his chest. “who’s the team captain here?”

“you are,” you answer, but your voice comes out as a breathless whine. the submissive sound only fuels aomine even more, and it isn’t long before all of your clothes are ripped off and forgotten on the ground. soon, his hips are furiously smacking against yours, your whimpers mixing in with the boy’s groans. “god, mmph, does this mean i should rap m-more of those—nngh— american songs?”

“fuck yeah.”

MURASAKIBARA.

rivulets of water run down the muscular expanse of murasakibara's bare skin as a soft ivory towel hangs around his neck, a lazily pleased expression sprawled across his face—all evidence of the shower he's just indulged in after a long evening of rigorous practice. there's one more thing that he still craves at the moment, however. his stomach growls audibly, and almost as if he's running on autopilot, he walks straight to the kitchen.

now the closer he gets to the area, the clearer he hears your voice. it seems like you're singing quite an explicit song. "gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me," you rap enthusiastically. murasakibara doesn't think too much about the sexual connotations, though, since getting his hands on some corn chips is his main priority at the moment.

right before he steps foot into the kitchen, he asks, "(name)-chin, can ya get me a bag of—" that's when his amethyst gaze lands on your dancing figure, and before he knows it, he grows quiet, somewhat interested by the sight in front of him.

"talk yo' shit, bite your lip. ask for a car while you ride that dick," you rap, moving your head along to the rhythm. your eyes meet murasakibara's, and instead of feeling embarrassed, his presence only fuels you to dance more vigorously. it's like there's a voice at the back of your head, pushing you to see just how much of a reaction you can draw out of your normally indifferent boyfriend. admittedly, the fact that he's currently shirtless is also a reason for motivation.

however, when the song ends a little while later, it doesn't seem as if murasakibara is affected much. he remains where he is, continuing to lean on the doorway. the closest indication that he even saw you perform is the slightly impressed look in his eyes, but even that is nothing more than a sliver, and it makes you question if you're hallucinating it. you huff out a small sigh of defeat, and you turn around, reaching for the drawer. "corn chips, right?"

the basketball player doesn't say anything as he approaches you, and he doesn't say anything either as his arms circle possessively around your waist. there's a shiver that runs down your spine. you turn your head so you can meet his gaze—wait, why are his eyes so dark?

"i think i'm hungry for something else now, (name)-chin."

AKASHI.

humming quietly to himself, akashi gets up from his spot on the living room sofa, beginning to walk over to your room. it's a friday evening, and although he'd usually have practice at this time, coach shirogane had called in sick—a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, really. either way, akashi was sure to take advantage of the opportunity, especially considering how both of your schedules tended to overflow with academics and extracurriculars alike.

his mind wanders a bit, and he remembers you telling him about a volleyball game that was scheduled a few days ago. he could indeed have asked you what the outcome was via text, but akashi has always preferred face-to-face communication. he supposes that he's more traditional in that sense.

however, what he isn't quite expecting is to hear you, normally dignified and proper, rapping lyrics that are particularly edged with profanities. there's a small, rare twinge of disbelief that tugs at him, prompting him to silently move closer to the door. "your honor, i'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes. switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating," akashi hears you belt out. his eyes widen the tiniest bit.

still, by no means is he deaf; regardless of how explicit your music taste seems to be, he can hear the genuine talent seeping from your voice, how you swiftly enunciate each syllable clearly while also maintaining the rap's nimble pace. judging from the sound of your movements, he guesses that you're also dancing.

for a moment, akashi considers connecting you with a respected hip-hop artist that his family loosely has relations with. a bit of a far-fetched thought, maybe, but truly anything is possible in the eyes of a visionary.

when the song reaches its end, he knocks on the bedroom door. he doesn't miss the small sound of surprise that you make. "can i come in, darling?" akashi asks sweetly.

"of course, seijuro," you answer, and he opens the door to see you sitting on the bed. other than the drop of sweat rolling down your face, there's no other indication that you were dancing quite passionately just a few moments ago. you smile up at him, walking over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "did you just get here?"

akashi knows you well enough to see the actual meaning hidden within your words: oh no, i hope you didn't hear much.

he smiles a bit too slyly. "don't worry, my love, your secret's safe with me," he hums, taking a moment to admire the blush on your face before pulling you into a kiss. slowly, he guides the two of you to your bed, his hands calculatingly tracing the hem of your shirt. he'd just have to make you realize that there isn't anything to be ashamed of.

BONUS: KUROKO.

"i want you to park that big mack truck right in this little garage," you rap shamelessly, completely lost within your own world and failing to notice your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you. "make it cream, make me sc— ah!" you squeal, eyes widening in horror as you finally catch sight of kuroko. you immediately pause the song playing on your phone. "uhm, hey tetsu. number two and i were just.. having a singing session."

number two barks in agreement.

all kuroko does is let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment. much to your confusion, he picks up number two, securing the equally confused puppy within his arms before leaving promptly. "was my rapping that bad?" you murmur to yourself, dismayed.

however, after a minute, kuroko returns to the room. you stare at him, flabbergasted. "why did you stop the music?" he asks innocently.

[lamnwar]

MDNI 18+

Daiki knows he's being stupid. A real idiot for the way he feels.

It's just a piece of fabric, for fuck's sake!

A blue silk robe you bought on your latest trip to China, handcrafted by an old artisan with so much love and talent that you didn't mind spending most of your souvenir budget on it. Something about the little details – the cloud shaped pattern on the cuffs and collar, the deep pockets that keep your hands warm, the flowers and branches embroidered in gold thread – it was too gorgeous not to buy it.

But god, does Daiki hate it. It stems entirely in his unreasonable jealousy for the cloth, his insides burning when he sees how it wraps around your body. The blue silk cord around your waist, holding it together. The way it drapes your shoulders so delicately. The way it clings to your chest, your nipples perking through the fabric.

That should be him. That should be his hands on your waist, holding you tight. That should be his fingers on your shoulders, taking in the softness of your skin. That should be his mouth around your perked nipples, sucking on them till his jaw hurts.

His cock aches in his boxers every night and morning, when you roam around the house in nothing but that blue silk robe, so carelessly doing your thing. Watering your indoor plants, choosing your outfit for the next day, making yourself a cup of hot beverage to warm your insides the same way that godforsaken robe keeps you warm outside. And then you climb in bed, your thighs that Daiki loves so much peeking out of the slit, and you lean towards him, the robe opening just enough to show your bare chest under it.

That's when he loses his mind. He can't take it anymore. He well knows he sounds insane but if Daiki could be anything, he'd be that blue silk robe. Wrapping your body and touching your skin at all times. He grunts, pulling you into a wild kiss as his fingers untie the robe in frustration.

Get out of this thing, cling to me. He's feral, and you're confused. What on Earth is your boyfriend so mad about? He's hovering you, taking the sight of your naked body, the sapphire fabric splayed under you, your hair contrasting with the colour.

Fucking you as the fabric glides under your every squirm. Oh god, you're such a beautiful thing to look at. The shine in your eyes, the sweet songs of your moans. And Daiki's big brown hands, roaming every inch of you, kneading your breasts while he pounds into you with the kind of force that makes your mind go blank. It might be the best sex you've had in a while. And he smiles, a spiteful smirk on his lips as he sees how you cling to him, that cute little voice of yours begging. More, Daiki, more! It might be that, as a personal preference, you'd take your boyfriend's skin against yours over any piece of clothing.

Daiki Aomine: 1. That stupid blue silk robe: 0.

[lynnaredfield3383]

Masterlist - Under 18 DNI

MHA

Bakugo Shorts

Bakugo Rescue

BakuKiri Babybrain

Bakugo's Girlfriend

Bakugo - One Night

Bakugo's Insecurity

BakuKiri Threesome

BakuDeku HQ Crossover

BakuDeku Bestie

Bakugo Winter Wedding

Bakugo Dinner Game

Boobie Grabbing Game - MDNI

Bakugo - Kiss Me at Midnight

Bakugo Soulmate

BakuKiri - Move In

Bakugo - Bored

Bakugo -Scared (P2 to Bored)

Bakugo's Ex Roommate

Bakugo - Hero Gala

Bakugo - Short

Bakugo - Dream Vacation

Bakugo - Valentine's Day

Bakugo - A Simple Moment

Bakugo - The Move In Plan

Bakugo - Mine

Bakugo - In His Shadow

Bakugo -Burn

Bakugo - Soon

Bakugo Mini Series

Bakugo's Ex

Bakugo's Ex Part 2

Bakugo's Ex Part 3

Bakugo's Ex (Bakugo's Ending)

Bakugo's Ex (Shoto's Ending)

BakuKiriBurst P1

BakuKiriBurst P2

Bakugo - Rejected

Bakugo - A Rare Moment

Other MHA Shorts

Sero Short

Shoto's Vampire Kiss

Denki Short

Shoto vs Bakugo

Kiri Short

MHA Vamps

TOUYA Shorts

DabiHawks MHA Ending

Touya in Love

Touya's GF

Touya's Other Half

Touya's Hero Partner

Touya's Hero Partner Part 2

HAIKYUU

HQ Inarizaki HS

Rintaro Suna

Rin College P1

Rin College P2A

Rin College P2

Rin College P3

Rin Short

Osamu Miya/Atsumu

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Osamu HQ Crossover

Osamu Drabble

Osamu Valentine's Day

Osamu - Fighting for You

Old Friends

Broken Hearts

Missed Chances

Samu's Bestie

Aoba Johsai HS

Iwaiziumi

HQ Karasuno HS

Ninja Shoyo

TimeSkip Tobio

Daichi First Time

Suga First Time

Possessive Suga

HQ Nekoma HS

Kenma's Crush P1

Kenma's Crush P2

Kenma - Desire

Kuroo's Crush

HQ Fukurodani HS

Bokuto's GF

Bokuto's GF - P2

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Sweet Bokuto

Kuroko's Basketball -

College Short

Akashi's Crush

Akashi's Ex

Smash or Pass

Kise's Soulmate

Kise's Crush

Aomine - College

LADS - Short Random Thoughts

Caleb vs Bakugo

[adiraargent]

Hiya! Can I request Aomine watching his gfs basketball game and she goes for a rebound and got it but the other team reaches over her head grabbing the ball and slamming her to the ground? How would He react and stuff?

Hot Chocolate - Daiki Aomine

wc: 2.6k warnings: fluff, established relationship, protective Aomine Summary: you're doing your best to win your basketball game but one girl really seems to have it out for you.

Daiki Aomine stood at the sidelines, his eyes fixed on the basketball court, where his girlfriend was showcasing her skills. It was an unspoken thing between the two of you where you would both watch all of each other's games (unless something really important came up).

The gymnasium hummed with the excitement of the game, the fervor of the players palpable in the air. It was the fourth quarter and the scores were pretty close but the other team was in the lead by 2 points.

You were relentless on the court, your determination evident in every move you made and Daiki could see it. Aomine watched you with a mix of pride and admiration, impressed by your agility and skill. He knew you were great at basketball, but you never failed to amaze him, there was just something about the way that you moved. Elegance.

You moved with grace, anticipation in your eyes as you chased after the rebound. The ball sailed through the air, and you sprang into action, leaping with impressive athleticism to grab the rebound. For a moment, it seemed like you had secured it, but in a split second, an opponent stretched over you, snatching the ball away.

The collision was sudden, jarring. A gasp rippled through the spectators as you hit the ground with a thud, your body skidding slightly from the impact. You grimaced at the impact, multiple parts of your body searing in pain. You looked up at the girl, thinking that maybe she would apologise, but she just looked down at you with a small smirk before jogging off.

Aomine's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in concern as he saw you sprawled on the floor. He clenched his fists, he was about to jump the sideline and go give the girl a piece of his mind but was stopped by Kise.

"Hey Aomine-chi, she'll be fine, she can take care of herself. Besides, you cant exactly go storm up to a girl and start yelling at her," Kise told his idol, hoping that he would understand.

Aomine scoffed, "i can if she pushed my girl to the ground," he snapped and went to go again but was stopped once more by Kise

"You know she wouldnt want you too," Kise said, and Aomine knew he was right, he was just so angry though. He watched, his gaze never leaving you, a mix of worry and anger simmering beneath the surface.

You lay there for a moment, wincing in pain, but determination burned in your eyes. You pushed yourself up, refusing to let the fall shake you. Aomine's heart swelled with pride at your resilience, the way you refused to let the setback break your spirit.

There was just something so hot about how determined you were.

Your eyes met from across the court, and in that silent exchange, Aomine conveyed his concern and support. His gaze was intense, a silent promise that he was there for you, that he believed in your strength and resilience.

That instantly made you feel ten times better.

With a nod, you signalled to your teammates that you were alright, ready to continue. Aomine felt a surge of admiration for you as you brushed off the fall and got back into the game. He knew you were a fighter, determined and unyielding.

The game resumed, and Aomine remained rooted at the sidelines, his eyes solely on you. He watched your movements, the way you sprinted, defended, and attacked, a small grin on his handsome face as he watched you.

As the clock ticked away and the game reached its peak, Aomine's pride for you swelled. He watched you shoot yet another 3 pointer, a wide grin crossing over your face as you did a small little dance, happy that you were now in the lead and in that moment, Aomine knew he would always be there, silently cheering you on, ready to offer his unwavering support whenever you needed it.

Aomine's heart raced as he continued to watch you on the court. Despite the fall from before, you moved with determination, your focus undeterred. He clenched his fists, feeling a mixture of worry and admiration for your resilience.

You were in your element, dribbling the ball down the court with finesse. Your movements were calculated, your eyes scanning the court for an opportunity. You darted past opponents, your agility a testament to your skill and dedication.

As you went for a layup, Aomine held his breath, his eyes fixated on your every move. The opponents closed in, attempting to block your shot, but you maneuvered with precision, your focus unwavering.

Almost there

The ball left your fingertips, soaring through the air toward the hoop. Aomine's heart leaped with anticipation, the suspense palpable. The ball hit the backboard, teetering on the rim for a split second before finally dropping through the net.

Thank god. This is what you loved... that feeling of getting the ball in the net, this is why you played the game.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Aomine's attention remained solely on you. You flashed him a happy smile, a glint of satisfaction in your eyes as you hustled back on defence.

Aomine felt a surge of pride and excitement as he watched you play. The game continued at a feverish pace, each possession crucial. You dove for loose balls, defended fiercely, and orchestrated plays with finesse.

Minutes turned into seconds as the game drew to a close. The score was neck and neck, the tension in the gymnasium palpable. Aomine's heart pounded in rhythm with the seconds ticking away on the clock.

You were everywhere on the court, hustling and giving it your all. You made a crucial steal, sprinting down the court with determination. With a swift move, you drove to the basket, drawing a foul from your opponent as they hit you while trying to get the ball.

The referee's whistle blew, signaling free throws for you. Aomine's eyes widened in anticipation. This was a pivotal moment in the game, and he knew you had nerves of steel, but even he was getting slightly nervous, though he had full confidence in your abilities.

You stepped up to the free-throw line, the weight of the game resting on your shoulders. The gymnasium fell silent as you dribbled the ball, your focus unwavering. You took a deep breath, then released the shot with precision.

The ball sailed through the air, the sound of the swoosh filling the gymnasium. Aomine's heart soared with pride as the crowd erupted into cheers. You had sunk both shots, putting their team in the lead.

Aomine's eyes never left you, his heart bursting with admiration.

The game's intensity soared as the clock dwindled down to its final moments. Aomine's focus remained steadfast on you, who hustled back on defense, your determination unwavering despite the physical altercation earlier.

Suddenly, a scuffle erupted near the basket. A player from the opposing team, the same one who had collided with you earlier, made a reckless play, shoving you in an attempt to gain possession of the ball. You stumbled back, your footing faltering as you tried to regain balance.

Aomine's eyes blazed with fury at the sight. His fists clenched, and his muscles tensed with an anger he struggled to contain. The referee blew the whistle, calling a foul on the opposing player, but Aomine's focus remained on you, concern etched into every fiber of his being.

You staggered for a moment but steadied yourself, refusing to let the fall hinder you. Aomine's heart pounded with a mix of worry and rage, his protective instincts on high alert.

The opposing player's actions were reckless and unnecessary, and Aomine's blood boiled with anger. He knew you could handle yourself, but the thought of anyone laying a hand on you, especially on purpose, infuriated him beyond measure.

From the sidelines, Aomine's gaze burned with intensity. He locked eyes with you, silently conveying his concern and his unspoken promise to make sure the offender would face the consequences.

You caught his gaze. You nodded subtly, acknowledging his support, and then turned your focus back to the game.

Aomine's fists remained clenched, his gaze fixed on the court. The game continued, each possession escalating the tension. He watched as you sprinted up and down the court.

The final buzzer echoed through the gymnasium, signaling the end of the game. Your team emerged victorious, but Aomine's mind was clouded with a singular thought—the player who had roughed you up needed to be dealt with.

As the teams shook hands, Aomine's eyes bore into the player in question, a simmering anger beneath his controlled demeanor. He held back, letting you handle the situation, but his glare spoke volumes, a silent warning of the consequences should such reckless behavior repeat.

You approached him, a happy look in your eyes. "I'm okay, Daiki. Don't worry," she assured him, sensing his anger.

Aomine's expression softened slightly at your words, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. "I know you are, but that was uncalled for," he replied in a firm tone, his protectiveness evident in his voice.

"Ill be back, gotta go talk to the coach," you place a quick kiss on his lips and then run back to your team

He kept a watchful eye on the player who had caused the collision, his jaw clenched, a silent promise lingering in his intense gaze. He wouldn't let anyone hurt you without facing the consequences, and that player was going to learn it the hard way.

Aomine kept a watchful eye on you, observing your interactions with your teammates and opponents. His protective instincts were still on high alert, his gaze occasionally flickering towards the player who had caused the collision.

As you made your way off the court, Aomine approached you, his concern evident in his eyes. "Are you really okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You smiled, though there was a hint of fatigue in your eyes. "I'm fine, Daiki. It's nothing I can't handle," you reassured him, placing a hand on his arm. You knew his protectiveness was a sign of his care and concern for you.

"Thanks you two for coming," you gave Kise a small smile before wrapping your arm around Aomine's waist and pulling yourself against his side.

Aomine exhaled, trying to ease the tension coiling within him. He glanced once more at the player, who was surrounded by teammates and coaches. His expression hardened, his protectiveness still burning within him.

As the player conversed with their team, Aomine's gaze bore into them, a silent warning simmering in his intense stare. He remained at your side, his arm instinctively drawing you closer in a protective gesture.

You glanced up at Aomine, catching the fiery intensity in his eyes. Sensing his silent promise, you gently squeezed his hand, silently conveying your appreciation for his concern and protection.

Your teammate called out to you, "y/n! you gotta come back, we're doing the end formalities!'

"I'll be back in a sec. Gotta go say thank you for the game and stuff," you sigh, leaned in, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss on his lips before darting back toward your team.

Aomine watched you go, his eyes tracking your every move, ensuring you were safe even in the midst of the post-game interactions. His jaw clenched, a subtle sign of his unease with the situation.

You navigated through the crowd of players and officials, your mind focused on expressing gratitude for the game. Yet, you couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort caused by the player's earlier actions.

Approaching the opposing team's area, you maintained a composed demeanor, nodding politely as you exchanged words of appreciation with the coach and some of the players. However, your gaze lingered on the player who had caused the collision, a mixture of emotions swirling within you.

You offered a polite yet cool thank-you to the player, masking the underlying tension you felt. Their response was casual, almost dismissive, which only added to the unease simmering in the back of your mind.

As you turned to walk away, a voice cut through the air, "Hey, y/n, wait up a sec."

You halted, glancing back to see the player approaching you. Your guard went up instinctively, but you maintained a composed exterior.

"I just wanted to say, sorry about the collision back there. It's part of the game, you know?" the player shrugged, their tone lacking genuine remorse.

Your jaw tightened, but you managed a tight-lipped smile, masking the flicker of frustration. "Yeah, it happens. No hard feelings," you replied diplomatically, not wanting to escalate the situation.

Turning on your heel, you swiftly made your way back to where Aomine stood, his eyes locked on you. You could sense his tension, his protective instincts flaring up in response to the encounter.

Aomine met you halfway, concern etched in his features. "Everything alright?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of worry and restrained anger.

You nodded, trying to dispel the tension. "Just some post-game formalities. Let's get out of here," you suggested, taking his hand and leading the way, eager to put the unsettling encounter behind you.

Aomine followed, his protective instincts still on high alert as he kept a watchful eye on your surroundings. You moved closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence, grateful for his silent support. Together, you walked away, leaving the gymnasium behind and focusing on the comfort of each other's company.

As you walked away from the gymnasium, the weight of the unsettling encounter slowly faded, replaced by the comforting feeling of Aomine's hand in yours. His protective stance eased, but he maintained a watchful eye, ensuring your safety as you made your way out.

The cool evening air greeted you outside, a welcome contrast to the intensity of the game. Aomine glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed you shivering slightly.

"Here," he said softly, slipping off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, his touch warm against your skin.

You looked up at him, a faint blush dusting your cheeks at the gesture. "You'll be cold," you protested softly, though you couldn't deny the comfort of his jacket.

Aomine chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "I'll survive. Just take it," he insisted, adjusting the jacket around you with a gentle tug.

You relented, allowing the jacket to envelop you in its warmth, feeling a sense of coziness that had nothing to do with the fabric itself. The scent of his cologne lingered, a comforting reminder of his presence.

As you walked side by side, the quietude of the evening setting in, Aomine spoke up. "You handled that well back there. But if that chick steps out of line again, I won't hold back," he said, his voice carrying a protective undertone.

You glanced at him, touched by his protectiveness. "I know. But let's not dwell on that. I'd rather focus on having you here," you said, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Aomine's gaze softened, a fondness in his eyes. "Yeah, I'd rather focus on that too," he admitted, his tone warmer.

The two of you continued your stroll, the tension from earlier dissipating with each step.

As you reached a nearby park, the familiar sight of twinkling lights from the nearby cafe caught your eye. Aomine followed your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Hot chocolate?" he suggested, a playful grin forming on his lips.

Your eyes lit up, a smile spreading across your face. "Yes, please!" you replied eagerly, the thought of warm drinks on a chilly evening appealing to both your senses and your heart.

Hand in hand, you made your way to the cozy cafe, the chilly evening forgotten in the warmth of each other's company. The promise of a comforting drink and shared moments ahead filled you both with a sense of contentment, strengthening the bond that was as warm and comforting as the hot chocolate awaiting you.

Written by adiraargent Do not copy, steal or repost on other platforms Requests open

[wsknbfanaccnt]

3 A.M.

An AoAka Drabble.

Aomine has been staring at the ceiling for about an hour now. At least, what he can see of the ceiling in the dark. His hands behind his head and taking a deep breath, he turned his head and looked over at the bright red clock on the side of his bed.

3:07, it read.

Grumbling softly he got himself out of bed, scratching his neck and dragging his feet over to the kitchen. Still dark, the fridge light felt like the sun in their small dorm. He winced, reaching out for a yellow bottle. Banana milk. Aomine closed the fridge door with his hips, looking out into the distance as the thud of it echoed through the room. Then silence.

But not quite. Aomine furrowed his brows in confusion as he heard typing from the other room. Now that he could focus his eyes, he saw a faint light coming from the door opposite his that was slightly ajar. Again? Seriously?

The blue haired boy, half asleep but slightly irritated, slammed the door open with his banana milk in his other hand.

"Oi. It's 3am. Why the fuck are you still awake."

"I could ask you the same question, Aomine." Akashi looked up at his dormmate, eyeing the bottle in his hand.

"Go to sleep,"

"In a bit. I just have something to finish,"

"You said that 3 hours ago,"

"Well, yes. I do have something to finish,"

"Go to sleep,"

"Aomine please, you are only prolonging my work here," the blue haired boy hissed in annoyance, looking down at him.

"We're going to the basketball court at 10am. Seven hours should be enough for you, right?"

Akashi pursed his lips in silence, looking back at the keyboard on his laptop.

"That's what I thought," Aomine hissed, smacking the back of his captain's head. Akashi raised his eyebrow at him, rubbing his head.

"Dumbass," he followed, as he walked back to his own room.

Akashi looked back at his laptop and smiled softly.

Aomine finished his milk, putting it down on his bedside table. He glanced at the clock once again. 3:21. But one thing bugged him. The sound of Akashi's keyboard.

"I swear to god if this motherfucker-" he was about to get up again, until he heard the sound of Akashi's laptop closing shut. Aomine sighed, snuggling back under the covers and closed his eyes.

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@japeneselunchtimerush @alor-thes @padmsanakin @sweijuro @akashiiiiiix

[long-manic-nights]

hi! if youre still taking requests with the prompts you rebloged, id love to see you write "cute kisses on the tip of their nose" (not verbatim but it wont let me copy paste it) for akamido (pre reformation akashi, basically "evil" bokushi) and/or murahimu. Thank you! Hope this made sense and was cohesive. Take care

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kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

Akamido (before Akashi went insane)

“I swear to God I have no idea how you do it”, Aomine screamed at him, pissed off, as Midorima entered the gym. 

This wasn’t something new at all. Ever since Akashi and he started dating two months ago, his friends have been throwing that type of comments at him left and right, sometimes with little to no context. Most days were exactly like this, just entering into a room only to be received with growls and complaints, like they truly believed he could do anything to save them. 

“What’s going on?”, he asks, as he avoids Kise’s attempt to say ‘hi’ to him with a hug, but he knows what’s going on. 

“Nothing, Midorima-kun. It’s just Aomine-kun being a baby”, Kuroko answered. 

“I’M NOT A BABY”

“Mine-chin might be a baby, but he’s right”. 

“I’M NOT A BABY, MURA. FUCK OFF”.

“What torture device are you testing on them now?”. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about”, Akashi smiled, playing innocent. 

“Seriously, I have no idea how you’re not terrified of his psychotic, sadistic head”, the teen insisted. 

“Who said he isn’t?”, the captain smiled again, raising an eyebrow, and Midorima had to swallow his laughter. 

He walked closer to him, the shorter teen still standing with his arms crossed on his chest, smirking at them like they were so much less than him. Midorima was simply a sucker for that kind of expression. He lowered himself, face to face, with a little smile, and Seijurou didn’t move, just stayed there, head looking forward, and Shintarou couldn’t help but to give him a little peck on the nose. 

“Hi”. 

“Hi”, Akashi murmured back. “Okay! Let’s start!”. 

Inspired on this glorious fanart