kiyoshi's

hey there, love <3

lamnwar ♡ mid-twenties ♡ cancer sun, virgo moon, libra rising ♡ infp 4w5 ♡ born, raised, and living on a tropical island ♡ lowkey a brown auntie ♡ speaks french, english, creole and tiny bit of spanish and mandarin chinese ♡

WELCOME TO MY BLOG! <3

obsessed with these silly basketball heads, so here I am keeping knb alive for my own sake hihi

My blog is a safe space for all, but I urge minors not to interact with my NSFW content! Y'all are good to interact with my sweet fluffy stuff though ✨️

I shit post sometimes, and there's nothing to do about it hehe

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Status: CLOSED!

As to focus on the pending requests, I unfortunately cannot take new ones for now. Stay tuned if I ever open my requests again! (*･ω･)

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EVENTS <3

KNB Kinktober! 2024 ♡

KNB Kinktober! 2025 ♡

Daiki Aomine would call himself a lover of women.

Not in a fuck boy trying to pass his antics as feminism kind of way, more in a genuinely in love with the gender way. He might even love them too much, to the point they intimidate him greatly. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s grown up with a girl like Satsuki Momoi by his side at all time; after all, she’s the kind of person that sets the standards high for all of humanity. He’s been by her side a long time, seeing firsthand all the intricacies of the female experience. The softness, the brashness, the conflicts and the highs – the beauty of it all, when he comes to realise deep inside his soul that there are no beings on Earth as great as women.

Then came his teenage years and the discovery of gravure magazines that arguably made his case worse: the image of curves, tempting, soft, something to hold and grab with reverence. He’s been daydreaming ever since of the feeling of a woman. Getting to touch one, feel that plush and warm body between his fingers – the mere idea enough to make his heartbeat raise and his blood flow straight to his groin. So what if he’s known in his close circle as a perverted virgin? Who can blame him, when something as great as the concept of a woman exist?

You probably made things worse, entering his life with a quiet smile and enticing eyes. You’ve never said it yourself, but there have been echoes in your friend group that you actually wanted to sleep with him upon first encounter, before changing your mind for some reason. That rumour, whether it held any truth or not, hasn’t truly left his mind. But when he thinks about it, he figures that he would have said no, back then. Clearly not because he didn’t want you, but more because he wouldn’t feel worthy of you. You were too good to even talk to him, so having sex with you? As big as his ego was, he knew his limits.

And you have always been off limits. Too pretty, too smart, too complex of a being to be an option. You are also too nice, too patient and too interesting. You are too bright at nights, and too warm during the day. Too charming, that his heart always skips a bit when he sees you. Too beautiful, that he never understands how you can stand so casually by his side. Too tempting, that he wonders how you manage to spend late nights together without him popping a boner.

And he loves you too much to even consider making a move on you.

Well, that is, in most cases. Not today though. Not right now. Not when he kissed you, then confessed, for you to only kiss him again. And it’s not a simple kiss, like the occasional ones he’d get after yet another date that leads to nowhere. It’s a kiss kiss. Tongue, saliva, moans – the whole shebang. Mind-blowing is an understatement; it’s more like you’ve open the door to new universe that might just be too big for him to even comprehend.

His brain doesn’t work, honestly, he’s more acting on instinct. All the movies he’s seen, the ecchi he’s read, all the talks he’s heard from his experienced teammates. All of it, flowing like some sacred knowledge through his cells to take over his body and give you something you deserve.

“Do you wanna do it?”

Your voice sends shiver down his spine, a siren song that feels like anything but real. But it might just be, he figures, meeting your sincere eyes. There is no lust in them, just honest feelings; and that’s just enough to make his heart jump. He can hear your breath, the way it falls on his skin from how close you are. He doesn’t even realise that he’s pulled you closer, just to make that moment more palpable; he just knows that you are all over him and that he’s never been so sure of the way he feels before.

Fuck, he is madly in love with you.

That must be it, because why else would his breathing be so erratic? He’s an athlete, used to running up and down the basketball court at a crazy pace, yet it never takes his breath away the way you do at this very instant. Yeah, it’s just everything about you. And that damn question. Both bouncing off the walls of his brain incessantly, giving him no respite to even consider an answer.

“Forget it” you sigh, pulling away to give him just enough space to both breathe and think. “I shouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

You click your tongue – a habit of yours that shows up when you feel any sort of disappointment. Daiki is well used to hearing it, except that this time it isn’t directed towards him. No, it’s all for you, for jumping the gun without a second thought, any sort of consideration for your best friend. Daiki may be a man, but he is also a virgin. And you wouldn’t want to take away something that certainly hold value to him.

“Ah shit, got too excited for a minute” you chuckle, embarrassed, “Dai, you deserve better. My apologies.”

He raises an eyebrow, glaring at your hands dramatically grabbing his broad shoulders like a father, about to give his son a life lesson.

“You should get to do it with a girl you like, alright? You date a bit, learn to know and love each other, take it slow, you know? Don’t rush into it just so for the sake of experience.” You stop, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s all a matter of uh... hmm, how should I word it? Well, point is, can’t throw away that unique experience on a whim. So let’s forget anything that I may have said in the heat of the mo –“

“I wanna do it.”

You frown, suddenly cut off by the deep voice of the young man. You cock your head to the side, a bit perplexed by the confidence lingering in his retort.

“No you don’t, you’re just...”

“Idiot” he laughs softly, following his words with a flick on your forehead. “Told you I love you. We’ve spent god knows how many fucking moments together. I’ve heard you snore in your sleep and I’ve seen you with your moustache grown. Don’t you think I know you enough to want to have sex with you?”

A silence. You can’t rush a reply here, you have to at least weigh your next words more carefully.

“Sure it’s not your dick talking?” You finally say, to which he can’t help but snickers.

“Partly, but it’s mostly my brain... I think? Not used to using it.”

You chuckle, landing a playful punch on his shoulder.

“Hey... seriously. Let’s do it right, alright?”

He nods, completely enchanted by the honey in your voice and the softness of your touch against you. In both your lives, there hasn’t been a lot of moment of certainty; yet in the haven that your bed has become in months – or has it been years, at this point? – of friendship, you both find some sort of clarity.

As if the chaos of this situation, without dispersing, has somewhat led you to some sense. A bit like stars are born of collisions – a spark igniting inside an endless dust of everything. But it’s clear, though. Clear and limpid.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Your friends and relatives may have called you odd for this, but you’ve always had this tendency to compartmentalize the different aspects of your life. For example, you’ve vowed to never make your hobby your job, at the risk that the pressure of capitalizing on what you love ends up ruining it all. It just makes the most sense not to blur any line; things are the way they are for a reason, consequently, mixing it all up will utter an irreparable chaos.

Naturally, following that unwritten rule of yours, you will never date a friend, or do anything that will lead to some line being crossed.

Then, what a fool you are, laying in your bed with your best friend on top of you, the soft feeling of his lips lingering on yours.

It’s like your brain doesn’t respond to anything anymore, safe for these deep blue eyes that stare at you with the kind of flame that would drive you insane. You are paralysed, confused, dazed – whatever you want to call it. The only thing you are certain of, is that you might have fucked up.

Alright, maybe you aren’t the one who initiated the kiss, but you still replied to it. You could have push him away immediately, but you’ve instead made the choice to melt into his touch, desperate and wanting, embarrassingly so. And that is where your fault lies – against your best friend’s lips, in the kind of touch you shouldn’t have allowed if you’ve followed your own principle.

“Fuck... sorry.”

You blink. What...? It takes a minute for his words to register. The whole process of information coming in, your brain interpretating it, and leaving you with an understanding of what he’s communicated. You sigh against your will – more like a long breath that you finally let out, but not out of comfort, more out of survival.

“I... um, yeah. Well, that’s one way to shut me up when I talk shit.” You chuckle dryly.

Frankly speaking, you’ll be the first one to say that this is no place for sarcasm. Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it seems to you that something major just happen and by all logic, a simple “fuck sorry” shouldn’t cut it.

“But you kissed me back, regardless.”

“I... did.”

“And now I may have a boner.”

“Huh?!”

He doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t even look you in the eye, which lets you know that he is dead serious. You truly don’t know how to react to that; there’s no guideline on what to do when you accidentally make your guy best friend hard. And it’s all the more ridiculous when you consider that all you’ve done is barely a kiss.

“Daiki...” you groan in your hands, acting as if the sky just fell.

And it’s not like you to be dramatic – of course, you have some affection for theatrics, but most of the time, you rather think of yourself as a being of reason. Unfortunately, reason can only sustain itself for that long before it breaks at the face of something that’s too senseless. And in this moment, everything about your best friend defies the rules of the Universe.

“It’s not like a full one, gee... she’s just a bit –“

“She? Your dick’s a girl?”

You shake your head, a grimace disfiguring your traits with something between disgust, amusement, and embarrassment. God, do you hate absurd things, like your best friend referring to his apparatus as if it were a sentient being.

“Anyway, tell her to relax. It was just a stupid kiss, anyway.”

The silence that follows your sentence is all but comforting. It hangs heavily in the enclosure of your room, a suffocating curse born of the things neither of you truly dared to think through. And you wonder, as you avoid his gaze like the plague, what even got him to do it? Granted, he’s been desperate for some action for quite some time, and if that frustration has built up enough to make him act reckless, that would certainly make plenty of sense. But the opportunities to kiss you have been countless in your years of friendship.

Every late hour spent together, giggling like school kids in the dead of the night. Every drunken party you’ve attended together, every dance you’ve shared. Or all these times when you’ve just looked at each other, content smiles on your face with a permanent “what if” floating between you.

You could have crossed the lines a thousand times before, yet you never did.

“Dai, are you really that touch-starved?” You click your tongue, unsure of your wording for a minute.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips – frustration truly aimed at yourself – while you eventually sit up on your heels, daring finally to stare at the man in front of you.

“Forget it, that’s not really what I wanted to ask. It’s more...” you move your hands, as if drawing your thoughts in the air, desperately wishing that he can read your signs.

Daiki, luckily for you both, has known you long enough to understand your thoughts, even if you aren’t the best at expressing them. He smiles softly, like a fool, really. He doesn’t mean to, it just happens. It’s not like he’s amused by your state of confusion or that he holds any pride in the crisis that he’s started. If anything, he’s been wishing for time-traveling powers in those last minutes. But not to change what he’s done – to scratch this kiss from the course of the Universe – rather to do it right.

He’s a grown ass man that has been having bedtime scenarios for months of what it would feel like to date his best friend.

It’s ridiculous by all account to picture a tall and muscular guy like him, one known across all circles for his inherent “I don’t care” attitude, laying in bed at night imagining alternate universes straight out of the best shojos written.

He’s always imagined your first kiss in a casual context, a “in the spur of the moment” kind of event. It would have involved your smile and your laugh, and that sparkle in his eyes when you looked at him. It would have been sweet, genuine, bright and loving. He would have hold you tight, felt the heat of your body in the palm of his hands like his personal sun. And you would finally let go of all the things holding you back, secure in his presence, loving against his lips.

It would have led to a confession, a “it’s always been you” scene and a dramatic “I’ve always loved you, dummy!”. Shared laughs at the realisation that you’ve shared mutual feelings forever. Hands holding, silly smiles, hearts beating at the same pace.

But for some reason, he’s decided to ruin it all.

On a whim, really. Just because you were within his reach. Just because you were rambling on and on about his love life, about the value that he holds in your eyes. And somewhere in all that chaos, kissing you felt like the only right thing to do.

“Can I say something stupid?” he asks, leaning forward just enough to make your heart jump.

You glare him down, thinking for a minute how much worse this situation can get. But all things considered, the error has already been done, so there’s no use trying to escape whatever the aftermath can be.

“You are stupid, Dai. Everything you say is bound to be dumb as fuck –“

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Anything of value you wanna add to the conversation?”

He frowns, momentarily stunned at how easily you’ve dismissed his words. You may blab a lot about his intellect, but right now you might actually be the dumbest person on Earth, or something like that. Either that, or something is wrong with you. Maybe kissing you has done irreparable damages to a scale he’s underestimated. Quite by instinct, he flicks your forehead, using the opportunity to gauge how much of the real you is still there – or if your soul just left your body and you’re currently the shell of a woman.

“Ah! What’s that for?!”

“Told you I love you.”

“Yeah, heard you the first time. But that’s not the time to be all sweet with me, doofus.” You tsk, and something about that attitude you’re giving leads him to reach out to your shoulders, giving you a desperate shake.

“No, fuck... I meant I love love you. Like uh... what’s that couple you like in that space series?”

“Which one? Star Wars or Star Trek?”

“The one with the asthmatic guy...” he stops mid sentence, dramatically throwing his head back. “Wait, you’re deflecting!”

He’s got you. When you shut up – you know, for once – it becomes evident what you’ve been doing. Ever since that kiss, actually. Because thinking, overflowing your brain with various thoughts is a distraction from the thing you want to avoid. But there comes a time where no words can be louder than the thumping of your heart, and no dramatization of the situation can erase the sensation of his lips against yours.

And as much as you like to act like you’re in control of everything, forever a being of reason and logic, you understand there is one thing in this world that transcends it all.

Love.

A word that neither you nor Daiki would throw around thoughtlessly. And sure, you’ve said it to each other before platonically, but not this time. His tone, his looks, everything about him transpire the kind of vulnerability that reaches straight to your soul.

He’s just a boy, bearing his feelings naked, because that is just who he is. Daiki has never been one to conceal his thoughts with complicated words, he’s never been one to deflect from the truth with complex phrases. No, that’s not your best friend.

Daiki Aomine, for as long as you’ve known him, has always been brutally honest. He carries that kind of frankness that gets him in fights sometimes, but he couldn’t care less. He speaks his mind because he finds no interest in wasting time in the intricacies of lies.

And as all this realisation falls on you, you figure that at the very least, you owe him just as much honesty. Because love is not a word that Daiki would use meaninglessly.

Love resonates in your head and rushes in your lungs when you lean forward once more. Love courses your veins when you close the distance, hands finding his cheeks to pull him closer. Love seeps through your lips when you kiss him with need. Love leaves its taste on his tongue when you suck on it. Love lingers on his lips when you pull away to catch your breath.

It’s all love that leads you to commit a sin of your own will.