Don’t worry hon!!! The song is really repetitive or talks about art-pop directly, so I had to reduce a lot of the lyrics so it turned out to be smaller than planned. I hope you can still enjoy it, thou !!! Thanks for answering so fast and changing your song 🙂
This is another Character-centric, like the Bokuto one I did with the Imagine Dragons one.
The
volleyball bounced once and twice against the lustrous wooden floor before he
kept it under the hold of his hand.
Few were
the ones who could stand against his keen, and expert abilities he had made
sure to built out of desperation. He had enormous shadows parading over him
since he had started his teen sports career. Like colossus those shadows
threaten to destroy what he hoped for his own future. But to surrender had
never been his ego’s style.
He
glanced at the panorama in front of him. Every member of the opposite team had
their faces adorned with deep frowns, so deep he could notice them from across
the whole court.
He
sneered. That was the look he loved to provoke on everyone who was playing
against him.
I stand here waiting for
you to bang the gong
To crash the critics saying, “is it right or is it wrong?“
He hadn’t
got into volleyball to be a praising figure. Since he was a kid he had felt an
overwhelming passion for the sport. He had the game in his veins from the
moment he was born. He saw one match on television, and that was enough for him
to find his vocation.
He soon
discovered he wasn’t a natural. He didn’t have the talent his biggest idols possessed.
From day one he knew he had a long way to go, but he had an abnormal desire to
stand among the best. He would go to infinite lengths to achieve his goals.
There was
no more playing. Volleyball wasn’t just a club in which he could simply enjoy
himself. Once he started to play against other teams in official matches,
volleyball turned into a fight of will, and more than anything, a proof of who
was the strongest.
If only fame had an IV,
Could I bear being
away from you.
He breathed in and out aliening his mind with his body so he could land a
perfect point. An ace serve.
Thankfully,
to be a worthy player of the court he didn’t rely only in talent. Talent could
always be surpassed with hard work. He could always make some talent of his
own. Also, he still possessed something most talented players didn’t. He had
the most charming personality one could find in his prefecture. He rapidly
identified the talents of each of his teammates, to then encourage them in a
subtle manner. He didn’t need diamonds in his team to raise a powerful team… He
had the capacity to create it.
I live for the applause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me.
He threw
the ball up high being blinded by the bright lights of the ceiling. With hawk
eyes planted on the ball, he jumped striking it with monstrous strength. The
ball flew over the net hitting the floor right next to the edge of the court.
The
whistle sounded indicating him he had scored a point. A roaring audience exploded
screaming his name and accompanying it with applauses and cheers.
As he had always stated he hadn’t got into volleyball just to be recognized, to
be someone important. The small fame was a collateral result of his efforts,
and he would be liar if he didn’t admit how intensely he enjoyed it.
Give me that thing that I
love
Put your hands up, make
them touch.
——
Thanks for the request! i hope you liked it!
Perfection!!! This encapsulates Oikawa so thoroughly. It doesn’t have to be long to be good and this was better than good…it’s great!!!
–I have quite a few of these almost complete stories.. So I thought submitting them to the best dang Haikyuu blog (Thank you for all you do, Lana and Kay!) would help me get motivated to write more. My actual blog is @eyesthatbuythetimes, so stop by if you want, there’s very little Haikyuu there, so. Here ya’ll go. I also have a NSFW Butler!Akaashi piece, as well as ANOTHER NSFW Mafia!Oikawa piece if ya’ll want em.–
(There is an alcohol-mention, let’s assume Reader and Bokuto are of age.)
To say that you’re a regular at Pointe is a strong understatement. It’s been at least 3 months since you and your friends discovered this club at the suggestion of a coworker, and you’d found your way back again and again. Was it the crowds of beautiful people mingling that made it special? Was it the crystal-colored cocktails that sent your head spinning? No.
It was because he always went on at midnight.
The dim house lights go completely dark as spotlights illuminate the center of the performance area. Your friend lightly punches your arm, smiling and waggling her eyebrows. Murmurs from the crowd die down as a bass beat reverberates from the speakers, and through your body, sending goosebumps up your bare legs. The beginnings of “Quickie” by Miguel creates a ripple of cheers. You smooth your dress down to give your nervous hands something to do. A few seconds pass until a striking man strides out onto the stage.
He is dressed in a pinstripe suit, immaculately cut to accentuate his broad shoulders and powerful thighs. The fabric stretches deliciously across his form as he moves. It was Bokuto: the star of Pointe’s Saturday night lineup, and man did he know it. The host describes tonight’s theme: The kinky CEO of a powerful company, ready for some “office fun.” You snort at the host’s explanation, he’s never done this roleplay before. A smirk crosses his lips, and the front row of patrons shriek in excitement. You take a second to grab your martini off the counter as the pinstripe jacket falls to the floor. You take a sip and let the alcohol’s sting distract you from the roll of his hips.
As the music builds, he slowly unbuttons his white dress shirt as he steps off the stage. A woman reaches towards him as he walks. He stops. He gives her a wink, and rips the rest of the shirt off. Swoons, whistles and shouts followed as Bo flexes, letting her run her hands up and down his torso as she pleases. Her friends giggle and cheer her on, and you can see his golden eyes flickering with pride. But oh, is he a tease.
The girl tries to move her hands towards his pants, and he jumps back nimbly, turning back to the crowd to perform an outrageous move, sending his legs into the air, his core keeping him balanced in a freeze.
“Sorry, you gotta pay for that!” he laughs, a hooting laugh that sends his head backwards. His jawline could cut glass.
You roll your eyes, acting disinterested; when in actuality, you felt jealousy prick your spine. You take sip of your drink again, failing to realize that he has turned his attention to another. Your friend lets out a drunk howl suddenly. He’s towering over you now, flexing his pecs as he places his hands on his hips.
“Hey, I’ve seen you before haven’t I?”
You nearly choke, the alcohol tinging your nose before you could answer. He lets out another musical laugh, hooking his thumbs into the edge of his suit pants; he then cocks his head to the side, his rustled hair sticking upwards, the gel shiny in the spotlight.
“I may have visited here a few times..” You feel a flush rise in your cheeks. He notices and narrows his eyes.
Those annoying suit pants finally hit the ground mere feet from you. This leaves Bo in a gold spandex G-string, the sharp line of his Adonis belt causing your breath to hitch. His whole body is pristine, his bulge so tantalizing close.
He sees your gaze drift downwards, and he confidently replies, “I’d never forget a face like yours… ”
The whole club has its eyes on you, now sharing the spotlight with the infamous Bokuto. You feel a rush of admiration–and a familiar something else–at his compliment.
“You must say that to all your fans…”
“Hardly. You’re a babe.”
“If that’s true, then is this all I get?” The words fall out of your mouth before you have a chance to think. His confidence only feeds yours. “I thought you were Pointe’s star, so..? Show me.”
His whole face lights up, the show-time smirk morphing into a full notorious grin.
With little to no effort, Bo yanks your chair out to where he stood, your hands desperately clinging to the sides so you wouldn’t fall off. You weren’t quite ready for this. Your nails dig into your palms as he pushes your legs apart and takes the space between them.
“You’re not gonna get shy on me now, are ya?”
His hands are large and rough as he easily holds both of your arms behind you. A soft click makes you realize that yes, in fact, he did have handcuffs. What they had to do with CEO Bo, you didn’t really care. The crowd whoops, but all your senses drain as you look into the golden eyes taking you in fully for the first time. He raises himself onto your lap, grinding his hips into yours. He overwhelms you with his energy, throwing your legs over his shoulders easily.
Next thing you know, his face is inches from your neck, warm breath fanning against your skin. You wish he would lean just a bit closer. His hands move gracefully from your sides down to your cuffed hand as the song, that you had barely registered, starts to fade. He shoves a piece of napkin into your palm, then whispers into your ear..
“I need to see you again. Meet me there after the show..”
He backs away. You could see his chest rising and falling heavily, the gold in his eyes almost blown out by the black of his irises. You feel yourself growing even hotter, waves of pleasure radiating towards your core as he clicks your handcuffs off, and makes his way back onto the stage. The crowd cheers once more as he bows, that shit-eating smirk back on his face, and retreats backstage.
You open the smushed napkin and read the scrawled directions. It leads to the Marriott CrossKeys, a high-end hotel a few blocks away from the club. In smaller script, he writes…
“Wait for me in the lobby, I’ll be there by 2.”
Your friend awkwardly drags your seat back to your table, laughing about how you finally got to bust a move with THE Bokuto. You hide the note from them as the night continues, thoughts of his toned arms caging you in against a wall. Alone, at his mercy. Time drags on, and you find yourself calling an Uber early, feigning a stomach-ache as your friends stay behind. The man all of Pointe knew as a star, wants you tonight.
To be continued…
–Syd
We’ve had this piece for a long time now and don’t know why it hasn’t been published! But in response, if you do have those sexy butler or mafia pieces, we’d love to see them! 😉
-Admin Lana
How did I forget to reblog the beginning of that Bo piece? You really have amazing talent!!
Hey Lana and Kay! Made some changes cause my computer crashed … Keep being your amazing selves. (Don’t worry Lana I have a StudentTeacher!Tsukks for ya soon!)
-Syd. Enjoy the owl boy.
The Uber is under three minutes, and your Honda Accord driven by a talkative gentleman named Kuroo drops you off just past the valet drivers. You step out gingerly, your heels clacking on the cobblestone as you approach the carpeted lobby. The AC is jarring as the doors slide open. You check your phone, 1:45 AM. Your heart leaps into your throat, suddenly nervous. Maybe this is a bit too soon? Maybe this was all a joke?
You decide to choose a seat across from the resident bar, where two or three patrons sit silent and tired. You find yourself playing on your phone aimlessly. That is, until that familiar musical laugh rings out from the check-in desk. It’s Bo, ranting loudly with the attendants at the desk, his back facing you. You let yourself blatantly stare at his ass, highlighted by the black suit pants he dons. You jump up from your seat when he whips around and immediately locks eyes with you.
It’s as if no time has passed. The way his face morphs from a jovial demeanor to a dark lust has you aching yet again. He tosses a hand inside his pocket, removing a black and gold credit card that he hands back to the attendant, who is visibly shocked at the expense. Bo, on the other hand, hasn’t taken his golden eyes off you. The suit jacket fits him just as well as the one from before, but as you get closer, you can tell the black silk is much thicker-flashier in the way of style and statement. It’s built for taking off slowly.
You pace towards the man, relishing his gaze along your form as you let him grab your extended hand. He leads you to the elevator and presses the up button.
“Nice to see you again, stranger.” You say.
“Sorry for making you wait, princess.”
You feel his hand squeeze yours, and your heart jumps back into your throat. The elevator opens, empty, and the two of you walk in. It shuts, and you’re all alone. You lurch as the elevator drags upwards, your nervous thoughts whisking away as his fingers drag along the waist of your dress, giving him a quick glance at your upper thigh as he turns you towards him. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck, and actually notice a faint blush cross his cheeks just before your lips finally meet his. A faint scent of his cologne reminds you of leather and cedar, with just a hint of sweat. He’s ravenous, but controlled. You feel all his energy resonating from his lips–his hands–his body pressing against you. But there’s a hesitation.
As if he’s afraid of breaking you.
The elevator dings and the two of you reluctantly detach from each other. However, you feel his fingers sitting on your hip dig in as you step into the hallway. Each of the suites are marked with double doors lining the hallway, wit a golden-plated nameplate signifying the owner. He slides another card into his palm as you reach the last two white oak doors on your left. The nameplate with Koutaro Bokuto glints in red for a second as the lock unhinges. He wastes no time pushing you inside.
A yelp leaves your mouth as he slams the door heavily. But that yelp quickly morphs into a moan as he liftsyour body flush against the wall, moving himself between your bare legs. His arms cage you in just like you’d fantasized before. Only this time, you could feel his lust firsthand.
Your hands slide up under his black suit jacket, hard muscle tightening under your touch. His lips ghost down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone.
“Finally. God, finally.” his guttural voice sending a spark of lust straight to your core. “I want you so bad.”
You feel his cock twitch in his pants when you gasp; he flips up the skirt of your dress and you can feel your wetness hit open air. He growls in delight.
“And it seems you’re pretty excited to have me too, aren’t you, princess?”
You can only nod, sighing with relief when he deigns to slide a hand underneath your panties. His lips suck on your bottom lip as a finger slips into your entrance. The other hand cups your neck, leaving it open to his mouth. You feel teeth bite hard into the sensitive skin.
“Fuck, Kou.” you whisper into his shoulder, which prompts Kou to add another finger and pump them both inside you. You moan louder, the sound of your sex making you lose control of your body … and mind. You wish he would take you. You need him, now.
“Please, Kou, I can tell you’re holding back. Please. Do what you want with me.” You say, the pressure building between your thighs giving you a surge of confidence. He removes his fingers, the hand behind your neck migrating to your jaw. You whimper at the loss, squeezing his thigh between your legs.
He takes a step back, his thumb roughly stroking your now swollen lips.
“Bend over that table. Now.”
————— Tune in this weekend for some … adventures 😉
Gah Damn
Now I have another reason to look forward to the weekend ;P
~Admin Kay
Dude this is amazing! I love how you write Bokuto as adult like, whew! I really hope you continue this series!
Hi! I’m sorry that this took me a while to answer! I hope you like it tho ;-;
(I didn’t include Daishou because I’m not familiar with him)
Sawamura Daichi: Before suggesting anything he’d ask his crush if they had anything particular in mind, and if their answer was no he would propose going to the movie theatre. He would probably want to go into the newest action movie and would be over the moon if his crush was up for it. (more plus points if they’re into action stuff and/or comics)
Oikawa Tooru: Wants to go window shopping/take a walk through the city and will 100% end up buying his crush some corny key-chain and tell them how happy he’d be if they would hold it dear to them and think of him whenever they’d be taking out their keys/phone (he’s so cheesy it’s gross). Afterwards he’d suggest to settle in a nearby café, and to enjoy the remaining time of their date talking and with a slice of cake.
Kuroo Tetsurou: Would probably fetch his crush after school and ask them to accompany him to his favorite eatery in the neighbourhood, and invites them over to his place afterwards for a movie date. Another place he might suggest would be going to a cat/owl café.
Bokuto Koutarou: Theme park dates are his thing! He would want to go to a amusement park, partly only to show his crush how tough he is by going onto all the big rides. If his crush would be fine with more people being present he’d suggest going to a karaoke bar with a few more people.
Ushijima Wakatoshi: A museum date would be what comes to his mind first, mostly because he thinks that a quiet and calm atmosphere for a date might be suitable. Either that or he’d just ask them to go grab lunch and drink a coffee with him. He wants to get to know them better so he’d like a place where they could just sit down and talk.
Terushima Yuuji: Totally the type to ask his crush to come to a festival with him. (includes booze and smoking pot of course). If he knew they weren’t as much of a party animal like him, he’d like to take a stroll through the mall to grab a milkshake and chit chat. He’d definitely say yes to a movie date as well.
Moniwa Kaname: Moniwa would invite his date over to his place to cook together. He’d either ask them if they wanted to go ingredients shopping together or would already have everything ready at home. After they cooked (his crushes favorite meal ofc pft) they’d eat together and enjoy the evening with a movie.
These are great! I totally forget about Kaname, why? He’s amazing! And no worries about Daishou, I don’t read the manga so I don’t know his character at all except that he exists.
Plug-ins: If you want to commission me or want to donate just as a token of appreciation for my writing on this blog ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯
Work was so tiring today guys, I’m like half asleep as I write this
✿ – Sex headcanon
KUROKO
This cute little babe… you know how people normally see him as a sub? WELL HE”S A SECRET DOM (he’s a switch, really, but when he feels it he gets it going 120%), and it would probably be such an unprecedented thing, having him suddenly pin you against the wall as he passionately makes out with you, hand unabashedly roaming your body. The element of surprise makes it a lot hotter.
If you were to tell him you’d do anything for him in bed, his request would be a simple one: to never ever close your eyes or look away from him. You may think of it as easy, but it’s hard not to avert your gaze while he kisses and sucks down there…
MOMOI
Has probably played with her tits before lol she’s in high school and she’s being more curious and exploring about her sexuality and her body, and she usually gets distracted and starts to run her hands down her body to figure out what she finds the most pleasurable (her breasts turn out to be quite sensitive).
Which leads to point #2: she gets turned on really easily if it has something to do with her chest. Even a simple hug from you can rile her up if done right. When you bury your face in her chest, it’s done for, she’s going to be red and blushing while telling you she can’t take any more teasing.
AOMINE
A lot of people headcanon him as a sex god, and I agree and disagree at the same time. Aomine’s first time will be dorky, awkward, and vanilla af lemme tell you this boy is going to be blushing a lot and frequently asking if you’re okay. After the first few times, though, that’s when he starts to develop his skill in bed, and we all know he’s a fast learner.
At one point after he’s used to being intimate with you, he somewhat becomes addicted to sex?? Like he would sometimes wonder what kind of a pervert he is to be constantly aroused around you?? You probably don’t always give in to his invitations, so he masturbates sometimes when he can’t take it, purposefully being loud if he knows you’re going to be back home soon so you can catch him.
♡ – romantic headcanon
KUROKO
This guy is all about stuff that are labeled domestic fluff. Cuddling together in front of the TV? Yes. Cooking together? Yes. Reading books next to each other? Fuck. Yes. Kuroko basks in tender moments with you and he treasures them in his memory (and the occasional candid photos of you that he takes), though he doesn’t forget the importance of excitement in the relationship and will take you out if he senses your boredom.
NIGOU? IS THE ULTIMATE WINGMAN??? Seriously Kuroko owes the pup a heck lot because relationships usually start because of him, and even if he’s already in a relationship Nigou will always bring them closer. You better treat the pup right, too, because Kuroko won’t take it if you disrespect his dog.
MOMOI
CHICK FLICK DATES LOL she’s going to drag you down into a movie marathon full of cheesy, cliched stuff (although once in a while you find a movie you enjoy instead of criticize together). Most of the time you will be playing around and making jokes about the movie, but sometimes when the two of you are particularly lazy it’s just cuddling on the couch.
It’s sort of sad how Momoi will try her best to cook for people she’s close to, because her stuff is hor r i B L Eso it would be great if you can teach her the basics of cooking. It would turn out to be a fun time in the kitchen! unless she force-feeds you black goo, because you don’t want to turn her down and break her heart
AOMINE
Imagine going on chill dates to the cafe with this guy. He just likes hearing you talk about what is going on in your life in general, listens attentively, chimes in when appropriate. He loves your voice. Plus, you always dress up so nicely for these dates, sometimes he feels insecure about how plain he looks. Nevertheless, he tries to make it so that you have a good time together.
Whoever is romantically involved with Aomine, especially in the long term, needs to understand and support his career in basketball. It’s the one thing that takes up most of his time, and he does it because of his love for the sport. If his partner ends up making him choose between them or basketball, he’d pick basketball because obviously his partner doesn’t love him enough to be considerate of his passion.
Kuroko’s are my favorite in this, well done on all!
this is the last of the all karasuno requests we have left and i’m glad because “karasuno cuties” means ALL OF THEM. let 👏 me 👏 write 👏 the 👏 girls!!!!
if you like what i do and want to show your support, consider supporting me on ko-fi!
– admin rachel lauren
Their Favorite Way to Show Affection:
Daichi: He’s a cheeseball and will probably buy you one of those Hallmark cards that says something like, “Thinking of you…” along with a big bouquet of your favorite flowers (assuming you’re not allergic).
Suga: He likes to trace his fingers along your skin. Sometimes it’s mindless: you’ll be watching a movie together on the couch and suddenly his fingers are trailing up and down your arm while his eyes are still glued to the screen.
Asahi: He loves hugs so much. Asahi loves the warmth and closeness they provide. Sometimes he’ll get overwhelmed with emotions and lose what he was going to say, but a big hug will say everything he intended to and more.
Characters are adults here, think late twenties. I also think this is longer than the other stories in Cantabile, because *inspiration*!
Maybe everything happened because of fate.
The recital hall is packed, and you’re not exaggerating when you say it literally looks like a sea of people. The traffic was hectic, which lead to your almost late arrival. You regret not being able to meet your student to give her encouragement, but thankfully her mobile was reachable just a couple of minutes ago, so you were able to cheer her on through a simple phone call.
You’re struggling to find an empty seat—the lights are dim, making it harder for you to look for one. Eventually you see one empty seat right beside the aisle, a man sitting on the seat next to it. You walk over in a slightly faster pace than you’re used to, not wanting the seat to be taken by someone else.
“Excuse me,” you say, grabbing his attention, “is this seat taken?”
Shocking scarlet eyes look back at you in mild surprise. He looks your age, somewhere between mid- and late-twenties, though his face might pass for early-twenties instead. He’s dressed formally, like most of the people attending the recital, including you. When he speaks, his tone is professional and dignified:
“No, please.”
You smile, relieved and thankful, as you shuffle into your seat, fixing your clothes as you’re seated. You murmur your gratitude, while he replies with a simple “you’re welcome”. Realizing that there’s still at least five more minutes until the show starts, you glance at him, pondering if you should make small talk.
Before you can decide, he beats you to it.
“What brings you here today?”
“Oh,” you blink, surprised at the initiative, “it’s my student, actually. She’s performing.”
His eyes shines with interest, that much is plain to see. A small smile graces his lips.
“Really. Instrument?”
“Piano. She’s playing Schumann today.”
He hums and nods, seemingly pleased with your answer.
“And what about you?” You ask.
“My friend’s daughter is playing,” he replies, “though I came here rather late, and I couldn’t seem to find him.”
“Wow, that’s unfortunate,” you say sympathetically, “did you get caught in the traffic or something?”
“Yes,” the redhead answers, shaking his head slightly at the memory of the traffic jam he experienced earlier. Owning a luxury sedan doesn’t make life easier in Tokyo. “I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”
“Same,” you sigh, “but at least we’re here now.”
The lights are dimmed down, and the two of you gather that the recital is about to start. Amongst the minimally lit room, however, you can see that the man has extended a hand.
“Akashi,” he says, “Akashi Seijuurou.”
It takes you two seconds into the handshake to offer you your own full name upon realizing that the person next to you is the CEO to an extremely successful company.
“How did you enjoy the performance?” Akashi asks you in the middle of the applause at the closing performance. You need to lean in a little bit to hear him, and your shoulder unintentionally touches his. He doesn’t seem to notice—if he does, he doesn’t look like he minds. You, on the other hand, have to mutter a simple apology, moving away before answering his question.
“It was intriguing,” you reply, slowly stopping your own applause, “some of the pieces were interpreted differently by their respective performers. I feel refreshed.” You smile, standing up the same time as he does. It seems like Akashi is going to at least walk out of the hall with you before parting ways, and with that in mind, you tread up the stairs with him by your side, exchanging banter mostly about the recital that just ended.
The light outside is almost blinding, since it is only 4 p.m. and the sun is still shining in the desaturated blue of the winter sky. You have to squint slightly a few moments upon exiting the dim hall to adjust your eyes. Akashi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too bothered, and you notice just how he looks three times more captivating under the late afternoon sunlight.
“Your student performed brilliantly,” he compliments, “her teacher must be excellent, as well.” When he says that, he looks at you with mirth in his eyes. Is he teasing you? You can only chuckle and bashfully look down to the ground.
“Ah, speaking of which, I need to congratulate her,” you say, looking around outside the auditorium entrance to spot your student. She must be with her parents here somewhere.
“I suppose I should also say hello to my friend,” he replies. “But before you go, ___________-san…”
You turn to look at him writing something on what looks like a business card, before he hands it to you.
“I hope you don’t mind me giving you my personal number,” Akashi says with a smile. It is somehow different compared to the other smiles he’s sent you during the short period of time you’ve got to know each other—ever enigmatic, but somehow this time it’s more… gallant.
“I’d like to get to know you more, perhaps over coffee or lunch. Call me if you’re free,” he says, before spotting someone from afar—green hair and tall stature makes someone much easier to find in a crowd.
“And that would be my friend. Until next time,
___________-san.”
You’re in a standstill, his card still in your hand as you watch him walk away to greet his friend. Until next time, huh… he’s that confident that you’re going to call him.
You can’t say he’s wrong.
‘Getting to know each other’ ends up happening over lunch dates instead—he picks you up at 12.30 sharp every time, drives you to a restaurant that he recommends, and you’d talk and eat for an hour. From the four lunch dates that he’s taken you to, you now know several things about him: that he knows how to play the violin, and his favorites are Bach and Brahms, and that he also knows how to play the piano (unsurprising, in your opinion). He used to play basketball in high school—you know the whole story—and you know of his family. You know that he likes tofu soup, and a bunch of other things that would take a whole day to describe.
When you see him through the window of the classroom you’re teaching in, you can’t be any more surprised.
“Can you complete number 5 and 7, too? I will check your answers when you’re done with everything,” you tell your student, who replies with a simple “okay” before you walk to get the door, closing it once you’re out of the room. The look on Akashi’s face tells you that he’s entertained by your shocked expression.
“Akashi-san, what are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too,” Akashi says, holding out a small, simple bouquet of red tulips. Knowing him, who likes things of extravagance and class, he probably doesn’t want you to look unprofessional in your work place.
“I thought I could pay you a surprise visit,” he continues.
“Well, you succeeded on that,” you reply, holding the flowers in your hands, “and you shouldn’t have, really.”
“I wanted to,” he smiles. You have to hold in the urge to blush.
“Thank you, they’re lovely.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence sets in the two of you for a few seconds, and you certainly aren’t able to gauge the look on Akashi’s face while your eyes keep looking anywhere but him.
“I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?” Akashi asks, a casual hand in his pocket.
“Yes, I am,” you say, “are you picking me up?”
“Of course,” he replies smoothly as he flashes one of those dangerously charming smiles to you. You thought that seeing it more often for the past three weeks would make you somewhat immune to it, but his charm, if anything, gets even stronger. Or is it you who is getting weaker? “Is seven alright?”
“Yes, that works just fine,” you say, smiling back at him. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, like he always does before and after a date with you—you told him you thought only people in the olden days did that, and he laughed. This time, however, you don’t comment. The pink on your cheeks tell him everything he needs to know.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
You wave him goodbye as he walks away from the classroom towards the exit—the front desk must’ve told him you’re almost done with this class and let him in. You hope the other teachers weren’t around to see that… Opening the door to your classroom with the bouquet in your hands, you see your student still twirling the pencil in his hand, and when he looks up at you, he’s mildly surprised at the bunch of flowers you’ve got.
“How are we going along?”
“Sensei, was that your boyfriend?” The boy teases, grinning mischievously with curiosity in his eyes. You burst out laughing.
“He’s… someone I’ve known for a while. Now, if the question asks you to identify the tempo in
Mälzel’s Metronome—”
The dinner was splendid, even Akashi has to admit at least that. He told you beforehand that the restaurant isn’t really one you can enter without complying to a certain dresscode, which took you by surprise, but he must say that you look gorgeous with that outfit on. He just has to examine you from head to toe another time, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat of his Aston Martin, looking out the night lights of the city.
Akashi is never one to quickly jump into things that is uncertain. He does make swift decisions, but all of them are accurate, precise, calculated, and always right.
So when he thinks meeting you is love in first sight, that might as well be the truth.
It wasn’t all flowers and pink auras in your first meeting, that’s for sure, but he remembers exactly how it felt when his eyes met yours. There’s something different, and a voice inside him (his conscience, or his demons?) telling him that you’re different. Of course he included the possibility of being physically attracted to you, which is a very natural thing considering how appealing you are, but he’s never one to be simply allured by looks.
After various processes in his mind, he concluded that the butterflies in his stomach can only be the product of the so-called love at first sight.
“Akashi-san, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask, a small smile on your face. Trying to guess where he’s taking you makes it all the more exhilarating—you haven’t felt this way in a very long while.
“My home,” he answers, and before you can retaliate or question him, or think of other more suggestive possibilities, he continues.
“I want to show you something.”
When he brings back a violin case to the living room where you’re sat, you gasp. He can only smile back, taking extreme delight in your shock.
He’s going to play for you.
And it’s not like you’ve never heard someone play the violin. You’ve been to many violin performances, the recital where the two of you met counts as one, but to have someone that is a romantic interest to perform in front of you, just the two of you—
It has to be a serenade.
He elegantly holds the instrument up, his fingers delicately hovering over the strings, and as his right hand starts to move the bow across the instrument, you find yourself surprised yet again.
Liebestraum.
“Love’s Dream”, so it is called, by Liszt. It is a classic piano piece, you’ve never heard it on the violin before, but the melody sounds so enchanting when Akashi plays it. The room is quiet, and the sound of the instrument resonates so beautifully in the midst of the silence, letting you hear each and every note clearly.
It’s his confession of love.
Akashi is deep in concentration as he plays, so when his scarlet eyes look up at you from the violin, you can’t find it in you to look away. He’ll only gaze at you for so long before returning back to playing, eyelids fluttering once in a while as his fingers dance to the theme of the song. He said that he hasn’t played for a while… did he practice for this? Visions of him playing the violin somewhere in his mansion, alone, spending an hour or two for this piece—it grips your heart so strongly.
When the main melody is repeated in a higher octave, you know that the song is about to end, but it sounds so sad and beautiful that it makes your eyes water, hand cupping your mouth to prevent whatever unelegant sound you’re about to make. The piece reaches a romantic conclusion, like the last word written in a book, or a couple exchanging sacred three words.
Akashi exhales, puts down the instrument and looks to you to gauge reaction.
Instead of the applause he’s expecting, he sees you walking towards him and cupping his face with both hands before kissing him.
It’s something that he returns whole-heartedly, of course, for he’s sure his heart has never felt that close to bursting at the seams. The touch of your lips are initially soft and tender, but something in him decides to take more of you, and his hand moves to your waist to press you against his body. His mouth moves against yours in a passionate dance, encasing your bottom lip in his to suck on it, while he has a hand behind your head to pull you impossibly closer to him.
He wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the wetness he feels against your cheek.
“You’re crying,” Akashi says after slowly pulling away, his finger wiping away the tears, only to find more of them streaming down your cheeks. You sigh helplessly before resting your face against his chest, inadvertently inhaling his scent.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “that was just… beautiful, I don’t know what else I can say—”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, chuckling a little bit, and you can feel the vibrations deep in his chest.
“I—did you—Akashi-san, how long—”
“Please, call me Seijuurou,” he cuts you off, patting your head lovingly in attempts to calm you down. “I shall also call you
___________, if you wish.”
“Seijuurou,” you begin again, and he prays to heavens that you don’t catch the way his heart beats like a hammer against his ribcage when he hears you say his name, “how long did you spend practicing for this?”
“That’s a secret I can’t tell,” Akashi answers, mischief apparent in his gaze. You pout, disappointed at the answer, but you lean up to kiss him again nonetheless, this time with your arms wrapped around his shoulder. Akashi’s lips curl into a subtle smirk against the kiss, and when your mouth opens slightly as a form of invitation, he wants nothing more than to accept.
When you part, your eyes are half-lidded, and Akashi can’t decide if it’s from lust or love before he concludes that it’s both.
“Aka—Seijuurou, are we…”
“A couple?” He finishes your sentence for you when he senses you trailing off, and then dips down to your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Yes, we are. I’d like you to be mine.”
“Mmm,” you hum in both agreement and pleasure from his treatment, “I’d like that too.”
Scarlet eyes look deep into yours, and he sees love in them just like you see love in his—it’s just a matter of time until the two of you feel right to say it out loud. For now, his violin has initiated the conversation, and you’re speaking with your eyes, with how you admire his face and how he watches your lips move as you speak. For now, the two of you will just bask in romance’s dream.
A time will come in the future when he’ll say he fell in love with you first and you had no idea, but that’s for later, Akashi decides.
Gahhhhhhh!!!!! Beautiful, beautiful!!! He’s so romantic!!!
This is the thing that made me want to rip my hair off my head because of my PC randomly blue-screening me. To those who responded to the rant, thank you for your understanding!
@ourneverendingpossibilities it’s nice that you have such a positive outlook in life!! I was so mad when it happened, but since it’s complete now I guess everything’s okay ヽ(＊>∇<)ﾉ
@squirrelsass13 thanks for the encouragement! I rarely ever write on Word (it transfers weirdly when I copy and paste the text on tumblr) so I was typing straightaway on my Drafts… I click on “Save Draft” every paragraph now lol
I’d ask you to tutor my son if you weren’t so busy!
Wow, you’re very ambitious.
Those are words spoken by housewives, small medium enterprise owners, and white-collar workers. Midorima doesn’t think that they’re somehow lower than him in any aspect—sure, they earnings are technically lesser than his, but how does that define someone as a person? He meets these people everywhere, the people that make up his community, his society: at the clinic, in parties, at the grocery store… It’s no secret that he’s seen as an outstanding person by these people.
Twenty-seven, has the letters “M.D.” behind his name, helps people get over all sorts of sicknesses from light ones like a common cold to not-so-light ones like diabetes, plays piano as a hobby.
It’s not really surprising to the people who ask him “what do you do in your free time?” because, you know, doctors. They’re classy and smart and all. Sure they can play the piano—he can probably play the violin, too.
But you can see their eyes significantly widen when they know he has a diploma in piano, certified by the Associated Board of Royal Schools of Music. Where is that name from? The United Kingdom. Why did you take it?
He always tells them it was just for fun, but a small voice inside him knows the truth: somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to be a pianist.
His first words to you are: “It’s a common cold.”
“That much I can see, Doctor,” you deadpan, holding a tissue against your runny nose. He sighs.
Midorima is used to handling all sorts of patients: naggy, rude, stubborn people… he’s seen them all in the past four years of his practice. Today, however, it’s only after lunchtime and he already wants to go home already. Maybe attending Akashi’s party last night isn’t really a great idea. Sure, it’s not a DJ-inviting or dance floor grinding kind of party, so he’s not physically tired—he’s tired from all the socializing with fake people. “Meet new people,” was Akashi’s reasoning for inviting the doctor, and of course Midorima did, but none of them were enjoyable.
To be precise, he can’t tell if they’re really enjoyable or not through layers of faux talk. Akashi texted him earlier, expressing his regrets that it was somewhat an unpleasant experience for Midorima. He also wrote “but I won’t stop inviting you to these social events—I understand how you think they’re superficial, but I can guarantee you that they genuinely enjoyed your piano very much.”
Well, if there’s one thing Midorima likes about those parties, it’s that he’s presented the opportunity to play.
“As a doctor, I have to announce the diagnosis to you, don’t I?” He replies, scribbling a pen on his prescription pad. “I’m prescribing you to these basic medications, but since your cold isn’t a serious one—yet—I highly recommend that you consume home remedies before resorting to these medicines.”
“M-hmm.”
“Turmeric tea, ginger tea, a mixture of lemon, cinnamon, and honey.”
“Got it.”
“Control your diet; you don’t want to eat food that’s going to worsen your cough.”
A sound of ripping paper. He hands the slip to you.
“You don’t remember me do you?”
That takes Midorima by surprise.
“Have we met before?” He asks warily as you take the prescription paper from his hand and fold it, putting it inside your handbag. Your lips form a small smile, and Midorima eyebrows furrows.
“You sang last night, didn’t you.” It sounds like a question, but his tone makes it clear that it’s rhetorical. He knows for sure that it was you who was dragged by one of your acquaintances that claimed you to be the best singer in a ten-mile radius—the expression itself is a horrible exaggeration, but when Midorima hears you sing, he has to admit that you do have an exceptionally lovely voice.
His first words to you turns out to be “what key?” instead of an illness announcement because he was the pianist accompanying you.
“You look different, Ms. Fly Me To The Moon,” he says aloofly, writing something on a document. You chuckle at the nickname, not knowing that the stoic doctor-slash pianist has the capacity to be somewhat playful, and towards the opposite sex, nonetheless. Midorima can only admire how melodious your laugh is, even when your voice is nasally from the cold.
“At least you remember what I sang.”
“Like I said, you look different,” he repeats. You were clad in an elegant evening gown for the party last night, and although Midorima doesn’t have the eye to identify expensive clothing brands and such, he is able to appreciate how attractive you looked in the attire. Your hair was done simply in a style that matches your dress, and among the slight make-up you applied, he notices the suppleness of your colored lips first.
The person sitting in front of him doesn’t carry the glamour of the party—you’re slightly pale, dressed humbly in a sweater and jeans—but the lack of make-up, fancy hairdo and dress doesn’t affect how beautiful you look, in his opinion. Your eyes still glows the same captivating way as he witnessed last night.
“Yes, well,” you sigh with a smile as you stand up, “you better engrave how I look last night deep in your memory, doctor, because I’m never going to attend one of those high-end social events ever again.” The first part was sarcastically said, but Midorima finds himself doing as you told, picturing the details of your gown and hearing your singing voice echo in his mind. Being a quite introvert doesn’t mean he’s immune to any of your charms.
“Shame,” he finds himself saying. You smirk, pausing right before you walk out the door.
“What, not being able to see me all dressed up again?” Ten years ago, Midorima would’ve easily flushed red at the teasing remark. He’s way past that now, and instead of reacting like the teenage boy he was, he looks straight into your eyes when he says:
“I was talking about how it’s a shame that I won’t hear you sing again, but that too.”
Two months later what you said proves to be a blatant lie. You’re standing beside Midorima, arms hooked with his, a casual sign that the two of you are attending together, presumably as a romantic couple. This time it isn’t Akashi’s, but a business partner of his—he nevertheless invited Midorima along to provide him the audience for his piano, and regarding yourself… well, you’re accompanying the pianist. It’s not like you’re crashing this party or anything.
It’s only your third “date” with the man, so to have the opportunity to see him up-close in a formal setting that requires guests to dress up is exhilarating, to say the least. Midorima’s handsome enough in his casual attire—having to stand next to him wearing a nicely tailored, dark-colored suit while having to keep your hands to yourself is almost some sort of punishment. And the collar button of his shirt! He always buttons his shirt all the way up and wears a tie to complement the outfit, but for some unknown reason he’s left it open this time and disregarded the tie.
If you didn’t know any better, he’s trying to tease you.
“It’s rare to find you with someone by your arm, Midorima-kun.”
“Akashi,” Midorima acknowledges the voice. You turn to meet the redhead face to face, smiling softly.
“Good evening, Akashi-san.”
“Hello, _________. Good to see you,” he replies smoothly, as you reply in a similar manner. “Even more surprising finding out that you’re with him tonight. Are you two…?”
The two of you exchange looks as if telepathically deciding who should answer, and turns out you are.
“Sort of,” you say, and the hint of mischief in your smile cannot be missed by even the most oblivious person in the room. Akashi surely isn’t one, but thankfully he doesn’t push you further.
“It’s a long story,” Midorima chips in, as if his relationship with you bloomed out of a blackmail kind of situation of some sorts. You chuckle, and so does Akashi
—the latter is gracious enough to show the two of you to where the piano is.
“What are we?”
You are in his arms, as naked as he is, leaning your face against his chest and feeling the beat of his heart when you ask the question. It’s a summer night, and the sheets are loosely resting on your waist, the two of you too hot and sweaty from your previous activity to pull it all the way up to your neck. One of his hands is drawing soft circles with his thumb on your bare skin, while the other one that is untaped (very uncharacteristic of him, but it’s a sign of a good night) brush your hair in long, loving strokes.
He doesn’t respond. You snuggle closer into his chest, relishing the sensation of his nakedness against yours while you think of all the times you’ve spent with him. That one time you had lunch together, those meaningless parties you go to just so you can watch him play and he can hear you sing, the nights you stay together at his place. You’ve spent at least a hundred hours with him, though it doesn’t feel long or dragged—those hours are cherished and enjoyed to the fullest, arguments (petty or not) included.
But it’s his reserved nature that makes you feel insecure sometimes. Tonight is one of those nights.
You move up so that your face is right in front of his because you want to look at him in the eyes. He’s beautiful, the viridian undisturbed by the lenses of his glasses—the eyewear is carefully situated on the nightstand before all this began. You’re sure he can see you clearly from this proximity, your nose against his, your hand caressing his cheek. His hands drift down from the crown of your head to your chest, cupping your breast and playing with a nipple as his eyes grow half-lidded.
Midorima is the one to lean in first, engaging you in a chaste kiss, a perfect juxtaposition what with his hand groping your chest and the other slowly travelling down to your ass, stroking every inch of skin possible. You are the one to pull away, arms around his neck and eyes clouded with lust, thanks to the things he’s doing to your body.
“Do you love me?” The question comes out as a whisper.
“I’ll show you how much,” he answers in a heartbeat before he kisses you again, bringing your body under his.
He never fails to convince you.
The afternoon sunrays shining through the high glass windows of the music hall are almost blinding, considering how dark it was just a few moments ago in the auditorium. You’re by Midorima’s side as per usual, looking around nervously with a bouquet of daisies and orchids in your arms. Your husband seems to be scanning the area like you are, and when you hear a shrill yell of a young child you know it’s who you’re looking for.
“Mama! Papa!”
The little girl, currently nine years old, runs towards the two of you with two or three large bouquets in her arms, the majority of her face covered by flowers. You laugh at the sight, crouching to hug her tightly once she reaches. Noises of plastic being scrunched can bother you less, as you feel your daughter burying her face against your chest. She pulls away to immediately look up at his father with bright eyes.
“Papa, how did I do?!”
“You did good, nanodayo,” he answers, a faint smile on his face as he fixes his glasses, “although there’s room for improvement in terms of arpeggiation—”
You gasp exaggeratedly, drowning the remaining of Midorima’s sentence.
“Shiina! Papa says you did a good job! Do you know what that means??”
“No!” She replies, confused but ecstatic.
“I promised you we can go have dinner wherever you want if Papa praises you,” you reply, and the confused expression on her face melts into real unabashed excitement.
“Mama, are you serious!?” Shiina’s voice has become high-pitched from the bubbling enthusiasm that seems to have taken over her whole small body. “We can go anywhere I want!?”
“Yep,” you nod for further affirmation. “Papa has agreed on this, too,” this time you look over at Midorima, only to be amused to find the deadpan expression on his face. You give him a wink, and Midorima, witnessing his own daughter having such a great time just because you told her she can eat whatever she wants for dinner, can’t help but melt a little.
“Maji! I want Maji!”
“Sure, we’ll go to Maji tonight,” you say accommodatingly. Midorima can only smile down at the girl when she looks up at him, a face-splitting grin on her face. Even though her physical attributes are definitely inherited from him, she obviously takes after you in terms personality.
“And then I want to have ice cream after dinner! Can I, Papa? Let’s go home so I can prepare for dinner!!”
“You may, Shiina,” he sighs amusedly—what does a nine-year old kid want to do to ‘prepare for dinner’? “But before we go home you must meet Uncle Akashi first. He came to see you perform, you know.”
“Uncle Akashi is here!?”
You chuckle. It’s a wonder how said man is viewed as intimidating and merciless among most adults dabbling in business, but is the opposite in the eyes of children. Shiina is almost obsessed with Akashi, what with his gentlemanly behavior that reminds her of Prince Charming. Shiina once even told you that since she can’t marry Papa, maybe she’ll marry Uncle Akashi instead—you have yet to tell Akashi this, but you have a feeling he already knows.
Speak of the devil, the redhead can be seen from twenty feet away thanks to his hair color, maneuvering amongst the crowd to approach your family. Shiina’s acting very much like an excited puppy, and you wonder if it’s immoral to compare the behavior of your human child to an animal (despite said animal being unbelievably cute as well), but that doesn’t matter anymore because Shiina is already in Akashi’s arms as he lifts her up in the air, chuckling amusedly.
Midorima looks at the scene with mild jealousy in his eyes—not that his eyes aren’t green in the first place.
“Mama?”
The usually animated voice of your daughter is now tired and soft as you tuck her in. She must’ve been exhausted after the performance.
“Yes, honey?”
“Can you tell me a bedtime story?” This piques your interest a little, because she’s stopped asking for stories before bed for almost a year now.
“Sure. What would you like to hear?”
“The other day… Mai-chan and Reika-chan were talking about how their parents met and fell in love,” she says shyly, hiding her face behind a beloved doll. “Can you please tell me how you and Papa met, Mama? You’ve never told me that story before.”
You chuckle.
“You’re gonna have to ask Papa for that, honey. It’s a long story anyways, and you’re tired. Best go to sleep soon.”
“Okay…” Shiina says, and it’s not hard to pick up the disappointment in her voice.
“Goodnight honey,” you kiss her cheek before turning off the lights.
“’Night, Mama.”
Truth be told, there is no ‘long story’. Midorima just called you one day to ask you out for coffee with a tinge of nervousness in his voice that you can spot even from the other side of the line. You ended up scheduling a lunch instead, and if Shiina asks him to tell her how you fell in love with each other, he’ll have no explanation except of how breathtakingly beautiful you look with sunshine on your skin and a smile on your face as you talk about music and food and the stars.
He will ask Shiina to keep it a secret from you, of course, because if you know he’s been in love with you for that long, he knows you’re never going to let it go.
OMG my face hurts from smiling and I don’t even care! I had to hold back squeals so I didn’t wake my husband. I LOVE the way you write adult Midorima! This whole piece is beautiful!
(I wouldn’t say i’m BACK, per se, but I’m alive at least, lmao.)
Isashiki Jun
(I decided to go with a cuter gif of him lol most of them are of him screaming)
I feel like he’s the kinda guy who vehemently denies liking soft and fluffy things, but lbr he probably loves them. He’s a bit of a mom friend, though he’d like to see your mom side come out too. He’d be chill with spending dates at home with you, that way he doesn’t have to worry about getting pissed off at people who look at you wrong.
Lbr he’s kinda intimidating, but he’s really sweet and he’s a total nerd. (I mean, he reads shoujo manga, such a dweeb.) He’d treat you right, for sure, though he might go a little overboard sometimes, and you’d have to tell him to chill.
Lol, I just love it! I only recently started watching Dia so being matched with a character who consistently makes me laugh at his antics is so fun! Thanks for the match!
it’s in our rules that we don’t do daddy kinks but captain kink is 👌👀 💯. i gave lev something different (and his is also based on the fact that my downstairs neighbors feel the need to flush their toilet every time i use the shower i hate them)
i’m sorry these are short and maybe not like my usual nsfw but i’ve been sitting on them forever and sometimes you just gotta tell yourself that you’ve done enough!
if you like what i do and want to show your support, consider supporting me on ko-fi!
– admin rachel lauren
Ushijima
“Care to join me, captain?”
You’ve got Ushijima hook, line, and sinker this time around. Draping your arms around his seated figure from behind, and leaving kiss after kiss along his jaw and neck to distract him was just the beginning. Now, you’ve sealed your victory with four simple words. Goosebumps rise along his skin and he places his pencil down next to his scratch diagrams.
It’s not that you two haven’t seen much of each other lately, but something about coming home from work and seeing him so concentrated on volleyball even after his practices and games is endearing. His stern, focused look can be a bit of turn-on for you. Today is no exception.
Let's Otaku About It 