Your best friend, Daiki, is an intriguing man, to say the least. Or that’s what you think every once in a while, when you lay your eyes on him. He may be known out there as the quintessential cool guy – frowny, but stylish, effortlessly handsome and nonchalant. A sort of bad boy from some sappy YA novel come to life; he even comes with his sad backstory from his high school days, something to tug at the heart of anyone that sees in him nothing more than the cliché that he seems to be.
You love him, of course. Let’s get that clear: you’d fight a crocodile with your bare hand for him, because that’s just how much his existence means to you.
But god, is he a weird ass dude.
Despite his appearance, Daiki is no short from being a loser boy by definition. Obsessed with basketball, so much so that he doesn’t hone any skills aside from that. He’s clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed and he can’t read the room for shit. Which ultimately makes him incapable of sustaining a relationship with a girl, aside from his friendship with Satsuki and you. You could also pin this inability to pull on the stash of porn magazines you’ve once found in his place, but that’d be too simple of a conclusion.
Not that you are any great judge of character, but you’re confident enough to say that your best friend’s chronic singleness can only be blamed on his person as a whole. Granted, he is easy on the eye and in his own idiotic way, he can be kind and even cute.
“But that’s not enough, son. You’ll die a virgin” you throw at him, not even deigning to look away from your phone to face the person you’re talking to.
The young man clicks his tongue; his weight being felt at the end of your bed where he slops his giant body dramatically.
“Don’t say that, it’s a curse” he groans, “and don’t call me son, too – that’s just wrong.”
You throw an unbothered gaze in his direction. He’s come to you looking for the answer as to why he can’t successfully get into a relationship, and you’ve answered. You wouldn’t wish to put a curse on him by the power of your words, but you’ll admit that the truth can feel like a malediction.
“What did you do when your date ended?”
“I said bye.”
“That’s all?”
He frowns, looking at you as if you’re asking him to solve an equation.
“The fuck you mean, “that’s all”? Yeah, what else was I supposed to say?”
You sigh, and the next second, your childhood plushie flies right to his face. He quips in surprise, but your reprimand is fully founded.
“Not a single “today was great, we should meet again”, not even a “I’ll text you when I get home”... dumbass.”
You suck your teeth, just plain annoyed at his inability to reason like a normal person would. There’s no excuse whatsoever – he should have at the very least watched a few romantic movies, right? Just the bare minimum of knowledge to be able to conduct a first date properly. You look at your phone again, seriously considering an emergency call with Satsuki. You have her on speed dial at this point – that’s all on her for leaving that giant pile of idiot in your care while she’s living abroad.
“I’ve got league matches coming up, got no time for more. What’s the point of promising her something she can’t get?” he defends himself, a childish pout deforming his manly features.
“Then invite her to a match, you fucking idiot.” You sigh, wondering if this is how his parents have felt all this time. This frustration of seeing Daiki be so confidently wrong.
He looks away, trying to find an argument in his favour – in vain. And he can tell, by the way you look at him, that he’s messed up with one other potential girl. It’s almost comical how he keeps fumbling; and it’s worse with the knowledge that he gets asked out quite often. Daiki entered adulthood with the sudden realisation that he is quite popular with the ladies, and he’s yet to grasped fully the consequences that come with it.
You also could have fallen for him if you didn’t know any better. The first time you’ve seen him, he was shirtless on the court of the neighbouring park, shooting hoops with seemingly effortless moves. Evidently, Daiki is the hottest when he’s on the court. And your touch-starved self would have definitely tried to get into his pants if life didn’t make him your best friend. Of course, this evolution of your relationship is nothing that you could have predicted; but once he’s taken that special place in your life, it just doesn’t feel right anymore to see him that way.
“Seriously Dai, what’s the issue? Do you really want to find a girlfriend or not? Wait, do you even like girls? You know, I’ve seen you with Taiga and –“
“I’m not gay, you’re just a fujoshi” he scoffs, throwing your plushie back to you.
“Says you.”
“If men grow boobs, I might be into them.”
You chuckle, giving a light kick to his back. “See, that is why you’re single. Talk a lot but I bet you couldn’t handle a real pair of tits.”
He groans dramatically, body limp by your side as if you just shot him dead. And in a way, you kinda did – how is his ego supposed to recover from this strike of yours? He is bruised, terribly so, but he knows damn well that you are right.
“If you let me touch yours, I could get some experience, you know.” He throws at you in a desperate attempt to recover from the hit he’s received.
But you are no fool – knowing Daiki as well as you do, you can tell that he resorts to this kind of talk as a defence mechanism. As much as he cannot keep a girl around, he is awfully good at flirting with you “as a joke”. Platonically, of course. With no real truth behind his words at all... Right?
Right.
He doesn’t want you; he never did and probably never will. You’re not his type, anyway. He always says yes to the prettiest girls when they ask him out – the ones that look like some fantasy come to life. But you? As confident as you are in your own beauty, you know very well how rough you can be on the edges. They will always be some dark circles, some chapped lips, some overgrown hair, and chipped nails.
“You’re an idiot, Daiki. And for that reason, I won’t let you get anywhere close to my boobs” You sigh, flicking his forehead.
“Can’t blame me for shooting my shot” he chuckles, “I usually never miss.”
“You do miss... with girls. Continuously.”
“You know what?” he says, suddenly sitting up, “I don’t think it’s entirely my fault.”
“Yeah? Then whose is it?”
“Satsuki, and you.”
You sit up abruptly too, incredulity visible on your face at your words. “Me?!”
He nods, seemingly not about to take back his words. Well, he’s got you speechless for once. The audacity of this man to blame you and your girl, Satsuki, for his lack of game... Urgh, men.
“What? You think girls wanna pursue something with me when I’m always seen with a pretty girl by my side?”
“That’s not –“
“Well at the very least Satsuki was hung up on Tetsu so people could take a guess... But you? Man, you are a major cockblocker.”
You scoff dramatically, hand to your chest as if he’s insulted your ancestors. Now, this idiot has called you plenty of names in your years of friendship, but none has felt like an insult as much as “cockblocker”. It is all the more insulting, considering that you’ve been nothing less than the best hype woman he could have asked for all this time.
“Your cock should be in use in the first place for me to be able to block it” you say after clicking your tongue.
“That’s the whole point, I can’t get it in use as long as you’re around.”
“Why are you so adamant to pin this on me?”
A silence. You move slightly back – seeing that glint in Daiki’s eyes is quite unsettling. He seems annoyed, genuinely. You can empathize in some ways; while you have more experience than him, you still have much less than other people your age. You’ve missed on teenage love entirely, and entered adulthood in a swarm of lustful beings, only hungry for your body. Your first love happened somewhere between your late teens and the first years of adulthood, and it was just a confusing mess of feelings and experiences lived through just for the sake of it. And ever since Daiki has entered your life, your love life has been dry.
Not a single date, not a single kiss except for some drunken ones at the bar, not even talking stages.
Naturally, you’ve also thought of blaming it all on Daiki – the timing is just too coincidental not to, right? But it doesn’t seem fair towards him. If anything, it might just be you.
Regardless, you can understand Daiki. It’s not just the frustration of not getting any that really gets you, no; it’s the endless attempts that never conclude and leave you feeling like something’s wrong with you.
“Are you really pissed at me for this, Dai?” you ask, vulnerability tinting your soft voice.
It sounds almost childlike, like a kid fearing that they’ve done something bad. The young man sighs, head falling on your shoulder in defeat. It surprises you a bit, but you still can’t help but pat his hair with intent of comfort.
“Daiki.”
He hums, heart skipping a beat upon hearing the honey in your voice. He almost melts right here on the spot, hating himself so much for being such a fool for you.
“You know, for what it’s worth, I genuinely think that you’re a catch. Even if you’re a dummy.”
He still doesn’t utter a word, and his silence only forces you to ramble endlessly. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, even less why you’re talking so much for. It’s just words, and words, and words from the bottom of your soul, filling the walls of your room like liquor poured in a glass shot.
“And I mean... yeah you can be a bit dense, and every once in a while you give me the ick; but you’re kinda fun, in a way. You grow on people, like the taste of soju. And, ah, if I squint a bit you can be, well... hot. Frowny face and all. I can overlook it if it’s for your abs –“
A kiss.
For not even half of a second, you question the entire Universe. Where do we come from? Who puts us on each other’s path? Who decides of what makes our heart beat? Who decides of the lines to cross and those to keep intact?
“Fuck, sorry.”
But you can’t reply, you can’t even think. Hell, are you even alive? And when you come back down to Earth, only one thing lingers – beside the feeling of Daiki’s lips on yours; a daunting feeling, akin to an existential crisis falling upon you as if the world just ended right here and now.
There it goes, the final whistle. A sign of the end and a basketball player’s — no, a basketball team's — worst nightmare. A call for all the players to gather at the center, bowing heads as a sign of respect amidst the loud cheers and claps and ‘good jobs,’ before moving on to their locker rooms, where the winning group parties and the losing team pack their bags, forcing their tears to stay put and not show itself — not yet when there are spectators.
Those rules don’t apply to you, so you let the avalanche of tears go.
Undoubtedly, it was one of the fiercest battles you have ever witnessed, with their teammates barely keeping up or completely letting them run their own pace, knowing they would just be in the way of their Miracles — a match so intense that the entire venue hardly breathed a word.
“Ryota,” You whisper, hands on your mouth, shutting down the whimpers wishing to escape as your heart shatters at the sight. Of your boyfriend buckling on the ground, his ankles and knees giving, and over-exhaustion taking over his muscles.
You are just relieved his teammates are there to share the burden with him, to carry the weight when it becomes too heavy — never abandoning him.
Good members build a good team. You think, and before your tearful eyes, you know Ryota is in better hands.
Even with a heavy heart from their loss, finally, you can breathe.
sooooo, i'm probably out of my mind for writing about a character/fandom that i haven't seen in years 😬 and i think it's showing.
honestly speaking, this drabble drastically changed from my initial idea to what it is now, and i am still not 1000% satisfied with the outcome. but i just don't know where this is going anymore. and if i sat on it for far too long, i'll end up scrapping it. and i don't want that 🙁
softly dusting crumbs from their cheeks when eating
^ or even better: kissing it off
"wear a jacket, it's cold out."
watching a movie or show that they know they're interested in.
^ not because they asked them to, but to be able to engage in more conversation related to it when they adorably ramble on and on.
doing their makeup for them
"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"
^^^^^^ THESE FOR MIDOAKA.... PLEASE.... ik these are a lot and i might as well ask for the whole damn list atp but pleek... im obsessed with my stoplight colored boys,,, wifeguy midorima and male (with a space) wife akashi... please...
"Did you eat today?"
Akashi knows Midorima better than anyone else in the world, and he’s very proud of it. He has spent hundreds of hours memorising every little quirk, every variation in his expressions, every tendency he has. He’s good at it and not even the miracles, who tend to recognize most of those particularities, have the enough knowledge to read through all the walls Shintarou puts between himself and the world.
And because Akashi knows Midorima better than anyone else in the world, he knows the shooter is stressed by the upcoming exams —Mido-chin tense, as Murasakibara calls it—. He finds him two minutes after he starts looking for him, sitting alone in the library, with notebooks and pencils carefully placed on the table.
“I’m busy”, is the first thing that comes out of Shintarou’s mouth as soon as he sees him.
“I see that”, he half smiles. “I admire your determination, but I think you are breaking Ryouta and Atsushi’s hearts by not eating with them today”.
“They’ll survive”.
“Shintarou”, he says more seriously, sitting next to him. “Let me ask you something”.
“I have a feeling I won’t like it”.
“Did you eat today?”.
“I was right”.
“Shintarou”, he repeats. “Did you eat today? Anything at all?”
“Akashi, I’m fine”.
“That’s not what I asked”, and Midorima finally looks at him, big green eyes on his. “You can’t…”
“I know”, he shrugs. “I’m busy. I will eat afterwards”.
“That doesn’t work for me”, Akashi stands up and offers his hand to him. “Come on, it’s lunch”.
“Sei…”
“It’s an order”, he smiles at him, and Midorima finally obeys.
"wear a jacket, it's cold out.”
This is one of the good days, Akashi thinks. They went to Akita for a friendly match —nothing friendly about the way Aomine and Kise played today, but still— and now they are on their way back to Tokyo on the bus his father rented for them. It’s late at night, and it should be earlier but they convinced the coach to let them go to the beach a couple of hours ago, stretch their legs, they said.
It’s three am by the time they make it back to school. Cars are waiting for them. Kise’s mom and Murasakibara’s brother are talking while smoking, and Aomine's mother is complaining about how late it is.
They are jumping out of the bus, saying hello and goodbye all around when Midorima turns around and looks at him.
“It’s cold”, he says matter-of-factly.
“I am well aware of it”, Seijuro smiles, half confused.
“You should wear a jacket”
“I am wearing one”.
“Another, I mean”, Midorima is red in the face and refuses to look him directly in the eyes. He’s nervous, Akashi can tell, he’s really nervous. “Here”, he takes his uniform’s jacket off —he’s wearing a sweater under it, of course—. “Put it on before you get out. It’s cold”.
The taller boy runs out, leaving him alone on the bus.
I must have eaten too many sweets this holiday season because this story came out fluff to the nth degree. There's also a cat, just to add sugar to sugar. 😺Tooth rotting stuff, in short.
(I'm warning you so you don't make your dentist even richer).
I hope you enjoy being pampered by Daiki. 🍰
See you soon,
V.
🧃-> tooth rotting fluff, slice of life, SFW, cat
🔡: 1.023
📯 -> Drabbles Mastelist
-> more knb stories here 🏀
It was a warm day of a spring weekend, which had begun with a late breakfast at a café near your home that had turned into lunch when Tetsu and Satsuki had joined you. You left him with a quick kiss, confident that he would enjoy a playful challenge with his lifelong friends, equally obsessed with the orange ball.
You are still immersed in that afternoon of errands, even though your attention is on his play and how rewarding it would be to be able to see him beaming and happy in his element, making it impossible for you to quickly get rid of the chores that have kept you apart.
An afternoon during which you missed his smile, his request for attention, his teasing, his warm lips on yours, his large frame that conveniently always ends up against yours, his restless mind racing toward summer and the thousand adventures you might live together.
An afternoon that ended at dusk, when you dropped your shoes next to his on the threshold of the house you grew up in, to find him delighted, almost proud of the noisy purring Keishi, your rascally cat, is giving him. Lying on your boyfriend, the furry little guy seems to declare that he is his new favourite human, for he has realised that Daiki is an endless source of cuddles and food.
You sit beside them on the inner patio, leaning your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasant chill you feel running down every inch of your skin as soon as you brush against him. You remain still, listening to the sounds of the departing day. Quiet, just as you were as a child when your dull days closed in solitary contemplation of that flower garden, while your mind wandered through your dreams, searching for what would make you truly glad.
A valuable job, loving friends with whom you could share unique moments, that safe place you called home, where you could have a new life with someone who would make your heart beat so loud, that you feared others would hear it.
You never thought it would be him, that someone.
He is quite surprised when you reveal your thoughts; he would like to reply with something striking, meaningful, romantic, something that would make you understand the crucial role you play in his sentimental anatomy; but there are no words, among those he is comfortable with, to express his feelings.
He carefully puts Keishi down and leans down to kiss you slowly, warmly, never losing that mischievous light in his eyes that always enchants you. He lowers his head on your shoulder, then decides to rest it on your thigh to best enjoy your hands slowly caressing the nape of his neck, his shoulders, savouring the soft play of your fingers on his hairline with a long sigh, as if he is waiting for nothing else.
His eyes are closed, but they often open to look at you with silent wonder, intercepting your gaze, returning a small mischievous smile.
He is all curled up on you, eager to feel you on him, taking advantage of those lazy evenings when everything seems on hold. His long arm gently encircles your waist, his right hand laps at your chest, his nose idly presses against your navel.
"If I told anyone that bad boy Aomine is such a cuddler, no one would believe me! " you tease him, feeling his right hand slip casually under the hem of your T-shirt.
He chuckles in turn, now that he has heard you voice such a sweet complaint.
"Perfect crime, see?" he boasts, lifting your blouse to nuzzle your soft skin in a rather cheeky sort of reverence.
"You're mine, get it! You better be a serial cuddler for me only" you tease him, poking his nose in return.
"That's fine with me, as long as you continue to claim me as your own" he replies simply, clasping his arm a little tighter to your waist and sinking his face a little more into your lap, hiding from the consequences of those mellow words, so uncommon to him, that they cause his ears and neck to be tinged with a light veil of red embarrassment. His skin is so warm now that you caress it. You smile at his bewildered expression, curbing your instinct to point out how cute he is when he lets go and reveals that part of him: so childlike, yet so authentic.
You hear him sigh, feel his weight shift from your legs, see him lean on his elbow, and feel his strong body next to yours as the two bluest irises you have ever seen stare softly into your eyes.
"You deserve such words every day, every minute, you know?" he states with a hint of sadness "But I'm not the best with talks" he sums up, welcoming you on his chest, running his hands through your hair, leaving his fingers free to play on your neck, your collarbones, to return to your face in search of further contact.
You smile at him, as an irrepressible tenderness gently cradles your whole self.
"Oh, but you actually tell me so many meaningful things, every day" you draw closer, caressing his lips with yours. "You speak to me loud and clear. It is a unique way, yours: the one I understand best, the one I like best" you conclude, pressing your mouth to his , brushing the tip of your tongue over his upper lip, leaving him in charge of the sensual game you have begun.
You know that you will receive in return the most lustful kisses, the hottest caresses, the most sensual moans a man can ever give you. This is his way of loving; this is what makes you lose all restraint when you are with him, because he is all you need.
This is what makes you think of him all the time: this is what no words can ever make you feel.
This is the road that leads straight to your heart, which will always be his.
Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!
ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!
Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him.
The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works.
After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.
The two of you may have also fucked at some point.
–
“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin.
The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.”
He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”
By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”
“Inside talking to the detective.”
“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.
He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.
Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.
You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?”
Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”
“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.
Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.
“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”
“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”
The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.
There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”
“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”
“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”
You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine.
Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips.
“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.”
“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”
“I should say that about you, asshole.”
–
Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras.
“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so.
The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?”
However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”
“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”
“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”
Fucking. Sleaze.
“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”
“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”
The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress.
“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.
You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.”
The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later.
“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”
Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.”
When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?”
He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one.
Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”
“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”
“Why the hurry?”
“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”
You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”
“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”
Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room.
You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”
He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours.
All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.
Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs.
Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs.
“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts.
It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”
“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”
“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”
A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm.
Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”
“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment.
“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”
Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”
You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.
“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”
“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point.
He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”
“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him.
“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.
Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again.
He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.”
“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort.
“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.”
Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”
“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.”
“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture.
“What was that?”
“Dickwad.”
He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”
“I’m not going to—”
Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?
Easy.
Yes.
“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.”
“Please fuck me who?”
Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.”
The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge.
He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.
When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then.
“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps.
“Told you.”
Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin.
His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms.
He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth.
“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.”
“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”
Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.
So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second.
“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms.
With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time.
His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.
“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”
Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”
“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”
“Dick first, job second.”
–
Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”
Today you were told to attend a group meeting but turns out your friend, set you up on a blind date with your group leader.
You can’t go on blind dates because you were already in a relationship. You were about to tell your friend today but she just set you up on a blind date. How ironic
“Do you want to order anything?” He asked. You simply shook your head,“Do you want to chat?”
“No, I’m sorry but I have somewhere to go to.”
He arched a brow,“Why? We just got here?”
“I’m really sorry but its urgent.” You explained,“My number one is waiting for me.”
“Number one? Who’s that?” He smirked.
All of a sudden you felt a hand on the strands of your hair tucking it behind your ear. You looked up and saw who it was.
“Hello, I’m number one.”
“Tetsu!” You immediately smiled and hugged him completely ignoring the guy infront of you.
Imagine you have a crush on one of the GOM (or Kagami) and you’re ranting to your friends, only to find out they were there the whole time! You can find the story here, Overheard Confession.
!!! i love those prompts. especially “As much as I hate waking up in the morning, I wouldn’t mind waking up at anytime if it was to you.” -- can i get that with nebuya or murasakibara, whoever inspires you more :3 pls and thanks
hewwo beautiful i love ur smile n i’ve been having the softest spot for mura lately so hope u don’t mind heh n hope you like ur 4!
i wrote this while i was on a plane with hunger and tiredness accompanying me so i’m sorry if it’s bad
He’s always had a favorite thing. A favorite color, drink, food and many other stuff.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that even though he loves many things that hold enough value to him to be called his favorite, he never actually loved someone to the point where he can think of them as his favorite.
Which would very much explain why right now he can’t seem to stop himself from staring at your peaceful figure. You looked so marvelous in his eyes at all times, even with your eyes closed.
In all your states you’ve never failed to show him just how truly beautiful you are.
The day Murasakibara told you he loved you, he meant it with all his heart. He loved your smile, your eyes, your heart and all there is about you.
That’s why he can now proudly and easily answer when asked,
“Who’s your all time favorite person?”
No need to overthink it anymore, it’s you and as long as you two are together, the answer will always be you.
He has never been a morning person, but when it’s a morning with you then he’s more than willing to wake up with the brightest smile he can muster up because every minute spent with you is nothing but a dream come true.
He wished he was better at explaining his feelings in words just for the sole purpose of making sure you know just how much he values you.
The way your eyelashes slightly move with your heavily closed eyelids, and another personal favorite of his are the expressions you make... just how many dreams do you have?
Like a fool who’s madly in love he smiles at your figure; you’ve always been the one to make him smile without even trying.
“As much as I hate waking up in the morning, I wouldn’t mind waking up at any time if it was to you.” he whispers.
He lands a kiss on your forehead only to be startled when you boop his nose with yours and then peck him on the lips.
“Then let’s hope you always wake up to me because I wouldn’t want it any other way.” you smile at him and then snuggle closely to his chest, wrapping your legs with his and brushing them playfully.
Murasakibara is actually wondering if there’s a feeling to be described that’s even better than happiness because if the world was to stop right now or if he were to die right now, he wouldn’t mind one bit.
After all, his entire world is in his arms anyways.
