word count: 352 | paragraph count : 8 english isnt my first language pls be forgiving
a short aomine drabble because im a brainrotted loser hehe 👹 genderneutral x aomine and they’re roommates 😼
basically and reader is annoyed that aomine is taller because they’re used to being the taller one also reader is 5’9
the sound of the ball against the wall isn’t annoying anymore—well, tolerable, at least.
you’ve gotten used to it over time. it’s not like daiki is the worst roommate ever. sure, he doesn’t always do his chores, he also sometimes leaves his socks everywhere, but it’s really never that big of a deal, you can always just scold him. he’ll do it eventually if you’re persistent enough.
but what you really can’t deal with, can’t get used to? no matter how long you’ll be roommates, no matter how much you try to get used to it? the fact that he’s just so much taller than you. not that it’s attractive, you keep telling yourself, it’s annoying. you’re used to being the taller one. it’s something you’ve always took pride in, being the “bigger person,” literally and metaphorically.
being 5’9 is a flex, not a problem. you like how the first thing people notice when they see you is “woah, they’re so tall.” you thrived of the “what’s your height?” and the “do you play sports?” comments, you love that stuff.
it’s the reason you don’t like walking next to him, or being next to him. makes you feel like a garden gnome, like tinkerbell, or something similar to those. not because it makes you feel insecure, you’ve just gotten so used to being the one stared at. you’ve lived off the attention for so long and suddenly he’s the bombshell?
like right now, seeing him fix the stupid lightbulb without having to stand on a chair. all he has to do is tiptoe and reach out. annoying. it pisses you off so much that you roll your eyes involuntarily. like an old habit that dies hard.
“what’re you rollin’ your eyes for.” a familiar rumble catches your attention. it’s not a question, it’s an observation. “quit bein’ a sore loser, pretty.” a follow up, he doesn’t face you but you can hear the smirk. the bastard walks away, back to his room and shuts the door with a soft click.
mission successful: you got riled up over nothing at all. perfect.
word count: 352 | paragraph count : 8 english isnt my first language pls be forgiving
a short aomine drabble because im a brainrotted loser hehe 👹 genderneutral x aomine and they’re roommates 😼
basically and reader is annoyed that aomine is taller because they’re used to being the taller one also reader is 5’9
the sound of the ball against the wall isn’t annoying anymore—well, tolerable, at least.
you’ve gotten used to it over time. it’s not like daiki is the worst roommate ever. sure, he doesn’t always do his chores, he also sometimes leaves his socks everywhere, but it’s really never that big of a deal, you can always just scold him. he’ll do it eventually if you’re persistent enough.
but what you really can’t deal with, can’t get used to? no matter how long you’ll be roommates, no matter how much you try to get used to it? the fact that he’s just so much taller than you. not that it’s attractive, you keep telling yourself, it’s annoying. you’re used to being the taller one. it’s something you’ve always took pride in, being the “bigger person,” literally and metaphorically.
being 5’9 is a flex, not a problem. you like how the first thing people notice when they see you is “woah, they’re so tall.” you thrived of the “what’s your height?” and the “do you play sports?” comments, you love that stuff.
it’s the reason you don’t like walking next to him, or being next to him. makes you feel like a garden gnome, like tinkerbell, or something similar to those. not because it makes you feel insecure, you’ve just gotten so used to being the one stared at. you’ve lived off the attention for so long and suddenly he’s the bombshell?
like right now, seeing him fix the stupid lightbulb without having to stand on a chair. all he has to do is tiptoe and reach out. annoying. it pisses you off so much that you roll your eyes involuntarily. like an old habit that dies hard.
“what’re you rollin’ your eyes for.” a familiar rumble catches your attention. it’s not a question, it’s an observation. “quit bein’ a sore loser, pretty.” a follow up, he doesn’t face you but you can hear the smirk. the bastard walks away, back to his room and shuts the door with a soft click.
mission successful: you got riled up over nothing at all. perfect.
