“I never thought a public auction could be so fun,” you giggled, eyeing the prizes.
“Isn’t it a little… sexist?” Hitoka asked timidly, sipping her champagne, her cheeks tinted pink and steadily rising in color.
“My, my, never would have pegged our little Yacchan as pervy. It’s not that kind of auction sweetie.”
The pink flushed to scarlet and her ability to speak became nonexistent.
Shimizu sighed, “She’s just teasing, Hitoka-chan.”
You chuckled, patting the little blonde on the head then turned your attention to your bid sheet, eyes flicking up and down as you searched out number tags to go with the small bios written on the page.
#1: Sawamura Daichi, police officer. Officer Sawamura has been on the force for four years. A steadfast law enforcer, he has multiple arrests to his credit and is training with the K-9 unit along side his pitbull, Tanaka. Funds raised on his behalf will be donated to the K-9 unit’s retirement program, launched to allow officers and their retired dogs not to be parted at the end of their term.
“Ooooo, Yui-chan, he looks right up your alley,” you said, pointing out the dashing policeman across the room. “Damn he looks good in that uniform, doesn’t he?”
“Hey, now who’s the perve?” she asked.
“I never said I wasn’t one. And look who’s talking, miss “hasn’t taken her eyes off that broad back since I pointed him out”?”
“That is a rather long name,” Shimizu mused.
You all giggled.
“Hmmmm, let’s see, who’s next,” you murmured.
#3: Semi Eita, firefighter. Semi Eita, alongside being a very astute and admired firefighter, is considered among his peers an arson specialist, working closely with law enforcement on suspicious fires. Funds raised on his behalf will be donated to the youth center located near his firehouse where he and his fellow firemen invest time building up the kids through sports and educational assistance programs.
You looked back up, catching sight of him immediately. It was a little disappointing that he wasn’t wearing turnouts but you supposed it wouldn’t have been appropriate given the semi-black tie affair attire.
Oh well, you could always imagine it.
“Oh! Let’s make this night a bit more fun, since the likelihood of our affording these hunks of beef are slim to none,” Saeko said, a bit louder than she should but she was buzzed and there would be no stopping her.
Hitoka and Yui looked ready to bolt but you and Shimizu kept hold of them. “What do you have in mind?” you asked.
Saeko grinned, pulling out her phone. “It’s this new app I found, called DARE. You press this button and it spits out a list of dares varying in point value. The higher the risk the higher the points. And it deducts points if you don’t do anything from the list.”
“Sounds fun, I’m in,” you said.
Saeko entered all your names and handed the phone to you. “Bravest goes first!”
You pressed the button and a list of three dares popped up.
Take an embarrassing selfie and post it as your profile picture
Ask a stranger to style your hair and keep it that way for the rest of the day
Use a lame/embarrassing/suggestive pick up line on your crush
With a wry grin, you said, “I’ll do number three,” and handed the phone to Saeko.
You touched up your makeup and hair, then throwing a wink to the girls, made your way to a small cluster of men, in which contained the object of your affection– for the evening at least.
“Excuse me,” you said and they all stopped talking to look at you. You kept your eyes solely fixed on the ash blonde firefighter. “I just wanted to let you know, that I’d slide down your pole anytime.”
There was a pause then Semi Eita tilted his head and said, “That’s an urban myth, you know. Building codes don’t allow for holes in the floor since someone could fall through or let go of the pole, falling and injuring themselves.”
You blinked up at him, then burst out laughing. Reaching up, you tapped the lapel of his suit. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you said, then turned and sashayed away.
From behind you heard someone, the redhead you supposed, cackling. “SemiSemi you moron, you couldn’t get a better opening line than that! Go after her, you doof!”
“Shut up Tendou!”
BONUS:
It was a few weeks later when you found yourself pressed to a wall, Semi’s mouth on your neck. You sighed, carding your fingers through his hair and gasping as his hand pushed past the waistline of your shorts.
“I seem to remember being called to put out a fire, but you’re wet enough to do it yourself,” he mumbled against your flesh, his fingers diving into your heat.
Your head fell back, breath coming a bit faster as you stared at each other through half lidded eyes. “Then burn me, Eita,” you whispered.
He withdrew, whipping off his shirt before stooping to fling you over his shoulder into the classic fireman’s carry and headed to your bedroom.
@ourneverendingpossibilities Two birds in one stone! I’m not sure if this kind of story suits him, but I was so inspired… Enjoy!
Reader’s gender is supposed to be unspecified, but let me know if I slipped. Also very little dialogue? I hope it’s not boring.
Also contains adult-ish themes, but none too NSFW. Semi-NSFW, maybe.
This piece is long! Placed a Keep Reading so as to not flood your screen.
One: a business arrangement is not love.
The wedding reception was fast. The two of you showed convincing displays of affection, sharing a few kisses on the lips and holding hands when necessary. To the naked eye of the public, you and Kasamatsu Yukio looked just like two people in love. To a select few, however, the wedding was merely an act.
“That was kind of exhausting,” you sigh, tipping the champagne glass to allow you to chug all of it in. Kasamatsu doesn’t bat an eyelash, helping himself to the liquor.
“Yeah.”
Although the two of you are not in love, you are not enemies either. Dressed in matching robes (complimentary, from the hotel staff in celebration of your tying the knot), you and your husband across one another on the balcony overlooking a spectacular view of the city. Not exactly the way you imagined your wedding night to go—drinking with your spouse until the edge of sobriety, that is—and to be fair, probably not how he imagined it to go as well.
You’re doing this for duty. He’s doing this for the same reason, but mainly for his father. That much you know.
You decide to cut the silence first.
“Now that we’re stuck together,” you say, the sound mixed with your sigh of fatigue, “might as well make the most of it.” The proclamation catches your now-husband’s attention, because those metal blue eyes look at yours almost glaringly. You smile, averting your gaze from his in favor of the view.
“What I’m saying is that we could at least be friends. Think of me as your roommate.” You continue, and the nostalgic visions in your head of university days cause you to break out into a grin and a small laugh. Perhaps it’s your mind’s own way to protect itself from the truth that you just got into a business marriage.
He scoffs, presumably amused at your antics. Your optimism is infectious. Kasamatsu suddenly doesn’t really mind the arrangement, not when his assigned partner is trying to exploit the most fun out of it.
He proposes a toast to the roommate agreement, and the two of you continue to drink the night away.
A/N: So, after I
finished this, I realized the only factors I kept of your ask were Aomine as a
bad boy and the girl as a nerd. I focused more on her irritation with him and
his personality than with him bullying her though he is tactless (as we all
know). Also, because you specified “nerd girl” I do have some common tropes
here purely for the sake of description. Anyone can be a nerd but without
actual physical pictures, I have to rely on my word choices to paint it.
“And _____-san with Aomine-san,” sensei announces. The
female of the equation groans quietly, head smacking against her desk. Glancing
around she’s unsurprised to see the notorious bad boy of Too absent…again. Why
oh why does sensei hate her so? It’s bad enough to have to work on a paired
project but with Aomine Daiki? The most narcissistic and lazy asshole she’s
ever met?
The fact that he’s ridiculously gorgeous doesn’t help
matters either.
After class ends, she’s fortunate enough to come across his
pink haired keeper. “Ah, Momoi-san,” she calls garnering her attention.
She smiles brightly, waving. “Hello, ______-san, how are
you?”
“Eh, could be better,” she confesses shaking her head. The
pink haired girl tilts hers with curiosity to the reply but she ignores delving
further into her personal problems by getting straight to the point. “Do you
know where Aomine-san is?”
Momoi’s pink eyes widen before a devious smile curls up her
lips. “He’s probably on the roof. I know his favorite spot; do you want me to
take you to him?”
“That would be great, I don’t have a lot of time.”
The two walk briskly to the stairs heading up. By the time they’ve
reach the top, Momoi’s companion is breathing a bit heavier, the weight of her
backpack making her wish she’d had the foresight to leave it behind.
“Dai-san!” Momoi calls, voice shrill to impart maximum
annoyance to her friend.
“What do you want Satsuki?” Aomine grumbles, blue hair
visible near the edge of the platform upon which he lays.
“_______-san needs to see you! Be nice!” she shouts then
winks before leaving.
Time passes but Aomine has no intention of getting up. If
she wants to talk to him, she can come up here. His arm lays across his eyes to
block the blaring rays of sun but he jolts up at the feel of a shoe kicking the
bottom of his own. He hadn’t even heard her climb the ladder.
“What the hell,” he snaps, eyes opening to look up.
Above him stands who he’s dubbed the “nerd girl”. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her
nose in a manner reminiscent to Midorima. “I could ask you the same thing,” she
snaps, eyes hidden behind the glare of her shields. “It’s impolite to keep a
lady waiting.
“Yeah, well, if you see one around let me know and I’ll make
sure to jump right up,” he retorts, satisfied to see a faint blush of what he
can only assume is anger flooding her cheeks. It makes her almost look human.
“You’re an ass,” she asserts. Setting down her bag, she
unzips it and hands him a paper.
“What’s this?” he asks blinking.
“Our paired assignment that we are unfortunately required to
collaborate on. It’s 25% of our grade Aomine-san, so I would appreciate it if
you don’t dawdle in doing your part.”
The basketball punk scans over the text before scoffing, “What
is this shit anyway? Tch, I don’t have time to worry about this right now.” He
stands, holding out the paper which she refuses to take.
“I’m not doing your work for you, Aomine-san,” she says
firmly standing as well, the difference in their height making her swallow her nerves.
She’s not exactly afraid of the looming
male but he definitely has an aura about him that makes her apprehensive.
And she hates herself for noticing the tone of his muscles;
she hates it even more that he doesn’t miss that she’s staring.
“Heh, why don’t we compromise, hmmm?” He takes a step
forward but she refuses to retreat so now his chest is almost touching her
decidedly large one. “You handle the assignment,” he murmurs, hand reaching out
to play with some loose strands of her hair. “And I’ll handle you.”
Heat floods her face at his insinuation followed by
righteous anger. Her hand moves before she can think, smacking him across the
face. “You’re a pig,” she hisses, gathering her bag and storming down the
ladder. She leaves with a parting, “Meet me at the library at 5:00, we’ll go
over the details then,” thrown over her shoulder before the roof door slams
shut. Behind she leaves Aomine fuming.
He’s never backed down or lost a challenge before and he isn’t
about to start now. “The only one who
can beat me, is me,” Aomine mumbles, gathering his belongings.
That evening, she takes a seat in one of the study rooms and
waits. And waits. And waits. Of course, the jerk would be late. When an hour
past their meeting time goes by, a deep boiling anger bubbles up. She isn’t
this person, isn’t one to go off and strike someone, to want to yell and scream
at them but Aomine Daiki is decidedly good at getting her dander up. She
loathes the injustice that someone so pertinacious and self-centered
practically has the world at his feet just through sheer arrogance and
entitlement.
And to top it all off, she knows he’s in a gang, a delinquent
through and through and yet everyone, including teachers, fall to his feet like
he’s some sort of god!
All because he’s good at basketball.
Ok, so maybe he’s better than good, maybe he is the best,
but still, there are more things to life! More things that make people great, make
them valuable and important!
Finally, she’s done waiting, grabbing up her bag and huffing
out the doors making a beeline for the gym. It’s unlikely he’s even there given
his penchant for skipping practice almost as much as he does class but she has
to try. She has to get him to realize she’s not a push over and she’s not a
patsy.
Entering, she sees who she knows to be captain and coach of
the basketball team talking quietly. The squeak of her shoes against the floor announces
her presence and both males turn to look in her direction. “Ah, excuse me,
Imayoshi-senpai?” she calls.
His smile makes her shiver a little. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“I…I’m sorry to bother you but, have you seen Aomine-san? We
were supposed to meet at the library and-“
“Ah, so you’re the
reason Aomine-kun was all hot under the collar today,” he asserts making her
blink in confusion. Coach murmurs something about grading papers, leaving the
basketball player and flustered student to their own devices. Before she can
ask him to explain Imayoshi goes on, “Please allow me to apologize for the
inconvenience. You see, it’s my fault Aomine-kun just now finished. Course, now
I understand why he didn’t complain as much as he usually does. What a naughty
boy, am I right?”
Deep crimson overtakes her complexion, hands gripping the
strap of her bag tighter. Why is she interpreting his commentary so…lewdly?
Imayoshi, ever observant, is tempted to continue this line
of teasing simply for the pleasure of watching her squirm but he’s tired and
besides; it’s clear this one isn’t interested in him anyway. Shame, she’d be
fun to break. Shrugging on his own bag, Imayoshi points towards the locker
room. “He’s in there,” then promptly exits the gym, leaving her to decide
whether to continue waiting.
Taking a seat on the bench, she goes over her notes, mind
wandering between what she’s doing and what’s taking Aomine so long. Undoubtedly,
he’s done this on purpose, exerting himself as dominant and not one to cater to
the beck and call of others, but he’s never tangoed with someone like her
before.
“Yo,” his deep voice rumbles jarring her out of her
thoughts. Looking up, she swallows the extra saliva that has suddenly appeared thanks
to the sight of him shirtless, tribal markings dancing on his broad chest and
over sculpted shoulders. A distinct heat erupts between her legs when she
notices his nipples are pierced. How the hell does he play basketball with
those?
“Oh, these? I take them out of course,” he comments
revealing she voiced the question out
loud.
Mortified, she covers her face, a deep groan pulling from
her lips. His presence before her on his knees, face level with hers, makes her
squeak. “You’d better be careful, _______-san, I just may get the wrong
impression if you keep making noises like that.”
Her bosom heaves drawing his eyes downward, his blatant
staring making her entire body hum with apprehension. Raising his eyes to hers
once more he smirks, leaning forward. Heat radiates off his flesh, their
proximity drawing beads of sweat to her brow.
“You know, maybe what you need isn’t a project partner so
much as a…fuck partner?” he murmurs, lips millimeters from hers.
“You’re a pig,” she whispers.
“So you’ve already mentioned. And you’re a bitch, what of
it?” he replies.
“I don’t like you,” she remarks.
“Tch, you think I like you? Hardly. Though despite your
glasses and always wearing cardigans even when it’s fucking hot outside, you’re
certainly alluring,” he admits, trailing a heated gaze over her curves.
“This…this can’t…this isn’t
happening,” she asserts, willing her brain to work better than her hormones.
“Oh, I beg to differ princess,” he purrs, “I can see you
want me, why continue to deny it? Take the offer, it’s not everyone I’m willing
to give all this to.”
She narrows her eyes. “And here I thought I’d figured out
how you got ahead in life, Aomine-san.”
“What’d you mean?”
She shrugs, glad to feel a bit of her senses (other than the
horny ones) returning. “I was racking my brain trying to figure out how you
could possibly still be in school and on the team even though you do nothing
contributory to either. Well, at least in school. I know in basketball you’re second
to none, though I have heard rumors of a certain red head at Seirin that
supposedly can give you a run for your money.” She shrugs again, tapping him on
the nose. “I just assumed you were a man whore, slutting it up to whomever you
needed. How else would you still be passing your classes?”
“You, self-righteous bitch,” he snaps.
Eyes gleaming behind her glasses, she pushes against his chest,
denial clear. Aomine may be a bastard, but he’d never truly force himself on
her. He gets up, eyes full of fire.
“I believe that’s round one to me, Daiki-kun,” she purrs
sashaying her hips as she exits. Turning around, she’s gratified to see evidence of a distinctly firm problem below his waist line. “Tomorrow, after school,
5PM, library. Be there.”
When she’s gone, Aomine grabs his basketball and slam dunks
it hard enough to shake the rafters. This kitten doesn’t know who she’s dealing
with and Aomine is dead set on turning her hisses into mewls.
A/N: I originally intended
to end this NSFW but the progression changed as I went and I really like how
things ended here with the bad boy being put in his place. I hope you still
enjoyed it!
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