#AKAASHI KEIJI //.THE GROUND BENEATH HIS FEET.\\

[xhardheadsxvxheartsleevesx]

rxyalpains said:“no one will hurt you as long as i’m breathing.” (Akaashi @ Bokuto)

@rxyalpains​​

                                                                                              SHAKING                                                                                                           -- LIKE A GODDAMN LEAF.

He’d done that thing again, hadn’t he? Sky high with the paranoia and right back down again. Sometimes he could be the life of the party -- So ENERGETIC that even AKAASHI couldn’t help but feel it in his typically apathetic bones. Other times, well, the world just SCARED HIM -- As was the case right now. They’d been invited to some house party or another but Bokuto didn’t know the host. Honestly, they’d only been invited because as volleyball players they had STATUS -- But how far would that go when they got to meet the REAL BOKUTO? When they learned that he was just a talentless, charmless HACK who had choked their last game to Date Tech last week? “You really mean that? But what if they hurt YOU? I couldn’t bear that... What if they HATE US? Maybe you really should just go without me...” Despite defeatist self-deprecation, Keiji’s words were DEEPLY APPRECIATED -- They’d help dig Kotaro out of the RUT he’d found himself in. Especially once all his stupid paranoias were proven to be UNFOUNDED.

[ellewords]

I HEADCANNON THST AKAASHI DIDNT KNOW THST BOKUTO WAS THE READERS COUSIN SO WHEN HE SEEN HIS S/O CRADLING BOKUTO IN THE CAFETERIA HE WOULD FEEL SAD AND BE DISTANT UNTIL HE CONFRONTS RHE READER BUT THE HE FEELS SO BAD

wait awe akaashi my darling?? ok ok here is how i think it would go :

[ note : this isn’t really a proper drabble, just me spilling out my brainrot hehe ] 

~

akaashi’s heart sinks when he sees bokuto’s face in your hands, a teasing smile on your face and bokuto’s cheeks tinted pink. his heart begins to beat irrationally fast; it normally did when you were around, but this one’s different. a pit begins to grow in his stomach, jealousy beginning to flow through his veins. akaashi knew it would be better if he had just left while his heart was still in tact, but his feet stayed rooted on the ground beneath them.

he hears you laugh and there’s an ache in his chest, building and twisting until it almost made him sick. akaashi wonders, has he ever made you laugh like that? did you truly enjoy his presence? it’s no surprise if you’d enjoy bokuto’s; he was more fun to be around than he was. the seeds of self-doubt had always been planted inside his mind, but seeing you with bokuto made them grow much larger than he would have liked.

with a sigh, he turns to leave the cafeteria. who was he to deny you someone you were better suited for?

~

anyone who knew akaashi well enough could immediately tell something was wrong, and that included you and bokuto. while he was not the type to be bursting with energy at all hours of the day, he was not one to be cold and distant wither. in fact, he was warm and welcoming. akaashi always looked at you with genuine endearment and interest, a small smile on his face whenever he talked about the things he held a passion for. it was one of the things that made you fall for him.

but this was not the akaashi you knew.

this akaashi could only give one or two word answers to your questions and stories. this akaashi would turn to walk the other way when he sees you approaching him in the hallway. this akaashi gave passive aggressive remarks on the rare occasion you were hanging out with him and bokuto.

~

he isn’t sure if he should have been surprised when you show up at his door after days of being cold. akaashi knew you were angry. he saw it in the frown on your lips and the furrow between your brows, perhaps that is why he immediately stepped aside to let you in instead of turning you away.

“we need to talk.”

“what about?”

akaashi knew you were smart, pretending that he knew nothing would only prove to be pointless. but his reasons for his actions weren’t really something that he wanted to talk about.

“i don’t know...” you pause, pretending to think before rolling your eyes, “maybe about how you’ve been acting the past few days.”

your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, genuine hurt flashing across your eyes. akaashi’s heart sinks, but he tries to mask it with the coldness of his tone, “i saw you two...”

“what?”

“you and bokuto-san.”

you tilt your head to the side, the words leaving your lips slowly, “okay, and?”

“it’s just-” akaashi sighs, cutting himself off, “you two seem really happy with him.”

a silence envelops the two of you as you process his words. it takes a few seconds, but soon enough, your laughter echoes through the entirety of the room, leaving akaashi confused.

“oh, keiji.” you smile, the tension in your shoulders leaving as an understanding of the situation sinks in, “of course, i enjoy spending time with him. he’s my cousin.” 

“what?”

you shake your head, trying and failing to stifle your chuckles, “did you see us at the cafeteria the other day?”

akaashi nods, still speechless.

“i was teasing him, trying to get him to confess to the person that he likes. if you had actually approached us, you would have known.”

and everything just comes crushing down on akaashi, he had messed up. badly. he had been so distant the past few days and waves of guilt begin to wash over him, taking your hands in his and profusely apologising.

“geez, keiji...for one of the smartest people i know, you could be a little dumb sometimes. didn’t you know we were related?” you tease, gently nudging your shoulder with his.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine. you don’t have to apologise anymore.”

he does it almost every hour of the day for the next week >:)

[taeyamayang]

prologue, part one, part two, part three

TANGLED UP

PAIRING: Akaashi Keiji x fem!reader

GENRE: romance | a bit of angst (≖ ͜ʖ≖) | mutual pining

TROPE: strangers ? to lovers

GIST: a serendipitous occurence resulted you to become penpals with your neighbor, however, conflict rises when circumstances push you to choose between your budding fondness for the latter and your long-time infatuation on the setter, Akaashi Keiji.

a/n: hah, im excited for this update. enjoy~

4/?

"how long have you been residing here?" your voice threads through the jaggling sound of the bell with stuffed bear keychain hanged at the zipper of your bag as you both walk pass the deserted local playground. the moon glowed in its usual milky radiance against the gloomy night sky. the walk down to your neighborhood had been silent ever since you both got off from the bus so you decided to engage in small talks.

"about a few months ago," he says after pondering on the question thrown at him. he continues. "but we used to live here when i was younger. we came back before the school year started."

your brow raises in curiosity. you are having an internal debate on whether to ask him more about the topic or not. of course, you want to get to know him more but you are not quiet sure about the limits. luckily, as he turns his head to you, he senses your dilemma as he reads the expression written on your face.

"dad's work. you can ask me about it." he lets out an airy laugh. a giggle you haven't grown accustomed to yet feels familiar like the back of your hand. "we had to move out because my dad was destined to work at a farther place and now we're back for the same reason."

"hm," you hum in reply. you break the eye contact to focus your gaze on the ground. your one hand grips on the bag hanged over your shoulder.

"you?" he carries the conversation.

"we live here my whole life." you glance at him at the same time you caught him watching you. feeling flustered, you bring your focus back to the houses ahead of you. you think of something to say to continue the chat.

"my parents know everyone in this neighborhood. no, wait, scratch that, they know everyone. i'm surprised they haven't told me about you yet." you look back at him. he still has his eyes on you. you smile. "an extroverted couple gave birth to an introverted child. welcome to my life's mystery.

he laughs.

he actually laughs. you are stunned by the fact that he finds your dry and seemingly dying humor entertaining. his laugh resonates a siren singing to you in the middle of a solace sea, luring you into the depths of water beneath your rocking boat. entirely enticed with him, you fix your orbs at his creased face. his smile contagious enough that you unconsciously pull the corner of your lips as you look at him.

"i find that very relatable." he utters right after he recovers from laughing.

"i feel relieved that i share the same pain with someone." you shrug.

a couple of steps were shared with the hushed air of tokyo. you keep your eyes to your feet as your mind replays the prior occurrence in your head like a broken dvd. indeed, another thing added to your list of favoritesㅡhis laugh.

he breaks the silence.

"by the way, i have a question." his tone is coated in curiosity.

"what is it?" you peel your eyes back to him.

"do all girls like pink?" he catches you in daze at his random question. albeit, you think of a response.

"i wouldn't say all." you echo your thoughts. "i'd say, probably, most girls like pink but i think it's primarily influenced by gender stereotypes. you know, girls like pink boys like blue. that's why most people assume all girls like pink."

"if i tell you, you look like a person who likes purple will you be offended by it?" he asks making you tilt your head to the side. he's asking you random and no context questions and you can't help but wonder why.

"i won't be offended by it. in fact, i'd be happy! i like purple! what made you think i'd be offended by it?" your steps slow down as you both focus on each other's direction.

"i don't know." he shrugs. "i told a person she looked like someone who loves purple but i didn't get a response from her."

the mention of the pronoun 'her' catches you off guard. you know from kaori and yukie that akaashi is the least member of the volleyball team to engage in social interactions. although, he has a number of admirers he has never shown interest in any of them. you draw your attention back to the conversation.

"i don't think it's something serious to cause a conflict between the two of you." you assure him but he pulls his orbs away. he narrows his eyes to the sky as he loses himself in his thoughts.

"akaashi." you call his name. his lips curls up still not batting an eye at you.

"akaashi keiji!" your voice increases this time. it seemed to work when he turns gaze back to you. you smile at him subsequently crossing your eyebrows in worry.

"you're overthinking it."

"how do you know?" his gapes at you.

"your face shows it." you chuckle as an attempt to lighten the mood.

"i was worried. she's important to me." he nonchalantly says.

oh.

you bite the insides of your mouth, tearing your gaze at him to focus on the full moon above you. you are left with nothing to say. a piece of advice that usually comes easy to you are now pushed down to your throat.

how can you possibly become a wingman for the person you admired for over a year?

"i might be overthinking it but i can't help it."

"why not ask her? but im sure she isn't mad at you, akaashi." somehow, your lungs have become rigged and the old bitter sensation in your mouth crawls back. you rub salt into the wound by pushing the conversation at hand.

a masochists.

"what is she like?" you fake a smile.

"she's easy to talk to. i feel comfortable with her. reuniting with her again feels like i've found a missing piece of my past."

"reunite?"

"yeah, we were childhood friends but i don't think she remembers me. to be fair, i don't remember what she looks like but i remember her name so when i heard her name from my mom i knew it was her."

you swallow in air as you poke the insides of your cheeks. seemingly, the night air turned dense. hindering the swift flow of air from your nose down to your lungs.

you briefly bite your bottom lip before diving in head first. you surprise yourself with the amount of courage you have in you as you vocalizes your dreaded thoughts.

"do you like her?"

he looks at you before uttering the words you fear the most.

"yes, i think so."

you let out a shaky laugh as pain turn into a friend. tiny needles prickle on the surface of your palms, numbing your touch as the words sink in. you stop your feet from walking, eyes glued to the cemented ground. tears start to form on your eyelids.

fuck, you're about to cry and the least thing you want to do is to burst into tears in front of him.

"hey, what's wrong?"

you blink away the tears right before he levels his eyes to you. you whip your head to the side, away from him, faking a chuckle. you unbend your neck as you bring your eyes back to him.

"i forgot my mom asked me to pick up something from the convenience store." you eye smile at him, laughing at your inattentiveness. you continue your act as you scratch the back of your head thoughtlessly.

"i can come with you."

"no." you tone shifts lower. the lump in your throat is getting heavier and you want to stir away from him as quick as possible before the tears start to fall.

"are you sure?" he senses your urgency yet he asked again to make sure. "it might be dangerous to walk alone."

"it's okay like i told you i lived here my entire life. if someone comes at me i can jab them in the throat and roundhouse kick them in the face!" you guffaw while demonstrating the said moves in the air. you're becoming better at masking your emotions with enthusiasm.

"okay." he nods at you but he seemed unconvinced. he furrows his eyebrows. "text me when you get home." you turn around and begin striding your way to the convenience store near the bus stop.

"sure!" you shout back at him. you raise your hand up to wave him goodbye without looking at him. tears stream down on your face as you finally release the tension built in your throat.

~

akaashi reaches his home shortly after you parted ways with him. he kept looking back as if he's waiting for you. he enters his house. his parents greets him at the entrance and the boy smiles at them, greeting them back politely. heavy steps thudded on the wooden stairs as he runs through each single step.

"we're having dinner soon!" his mom shouts from the bottom of staircase.

"okay!" he shouts back before shutting the door. he throws the duffle bag next to his bed as his other hand pulls out a phone from his pocket. he unrolls the window blinds as he peers from the window of his room. he pulls his eyes back to the screen of his phone, eyeing on the tempting bubble dialogue button near the contact's name. after a quick seconds of internal dispute, he decides to do it.

~

the oversized hoodie hugged your frame soothingly as you stare at the cup of instant ramen placed at the table in front of you. your nose is stuffy and you can feel the warmth of the skin around your swollen eyes. fortunately, you brought your hoodie to school today despite the moody weather. now it's doing its job well by covering your pathetic state from customers and staff.

suddenly, you remember a task left off unfinished. you kill time by writing down the last sentences of your letter to kei. the pen twists and turns between your middle and forefinger as you think of the right words to say.

you are not that close to kei yet for you to tell him about how emotionally wrecked you are yet you're close enough to tell him everything that happened in your day.

and so you settle with the most vague yet accurate decription of your day.

"today is full of ups and downs. it kicked off on a nice note, rocketed to a stomach turning (the good type) and heart fluttering occurrence, then ending it to a total dump.

im not having the best day."

you unclasped the paper from the clipboard before folding it into four. you keep it inside the pocket of your hoodie so you wouldn't forget dropping it off to kei's house before going home.

the alarm of your phone goes off. finally, the ramen is cooked. it's about time you replace broken feelings to noddles and msg. you peel the lid off and immediately slurps in the noddles. your phone dings notifying you a message. you click on the message icon as you chew. you choke on noddles as you read the name of the recipient.

"are you home? if not, tell me when you get home." akaashi sent you a message. you flip your phone over, ignoring him. well, for now since you promised on texting him.

~

akaashi paces back and forth across the room. one hand is on his waist while the other holding his phone. it's been ten minutes since he sent you a message. his worries grew as the clock ticks.

an idea kicks in.

"manager, ____ and i parted ways before we could reach our homes. she told me she needed to run an errand to the convenience store. i told her id come with her but she insisted on going alone. i told her to text me when she gets home. i texted her ten minutes ago (roughly fifteen minutes before we parted ways) but she hasnt replied to my text yet. the convenience store is near. im worried."

he stares at his phone as he waits for a reply and instantly kaori texts back.

"thanks, for letting me know. ill call her then ill update you." akaashi sighs in relief. he walks back to the window frame, leaning against the edge of it.

~

your phone vibrates continuously accompanied by the standard ringtone of your device. you flip it over and see kaori's contact id flashing on the screen. she's calling you. consequently, you answer it. the mode switches to videocall and panic rushes through you.

"what are you doing in a convenience store eating instant ramen alone when you're supposed to come home with akaashi?!" you fail to switch the call into voice only as kaori begins bombarding you with a question.

"long story." your voice came out muffled as you spoke with your mouth full.

"what happened?" you know she won't stop pestering you with questions until you address the issue.

"heart has been broken several times by the same man."

"akaashi?"

"who would it be other than him? he's the only person ive fallen for."

"finally, you have admitted to falling in love with him."

"fell in love." you correct her. you cringe at the use of the word love. you were not sure what love feels like until now, until it hurts you.

"tell me what happened!" she begs. you shrug.

"oh my god, you confessed to him but he rejected you?!" kaori takes a guess.

"no, i didnt confess to him."

"what could possibly be worse than a rejected confession?"

"i dont know maybe the fact that he's in love with someone else and that someone else is his childhood friend. you could have seen how his face glowed when he talked about her. who am i compete with his first love."

silence laid between the two of you.

"so you ran away from him after learning that?" kaori says after a pause.

"yep. it's a sign, i guess, from the universe. i think i have to move on for real."

kaori studies your face. she keeps her lips shut as she watches you flash her a fake smile. she knows you well enough to distinguish a genuine smile from a fake one. she knows that no words can miraculously heal the pain in your chest when she knows exactly how drawn you are to him. she was the happiest when she learned about you, a closed off being, having feelings for someone.

"come on, don't be too sad for me. it's not you when you're not teasing me." you attempt to pitch a joke but she stared at you impassively.

"don't worry too much. ill be fine, i just need time." you crumple the empty cup before tossing it in the trashbin under the table. you take the milk you brought alongside with the instant noodles before heading out.

"ill head home now. ill call you when i get home. i promise." she nods at you and you end the call.

~

"akaashi, i talked to her and she's on her way home." akaashi reads on the message sent by kaori.

akaashi smiles when he reads the text. he shifts his focus back to the window waiting for you to pass by and right at that moment a gray sweater came into view. akaashi scrutinizes his gaze at your figure.

at first, he wasn't sure if it was you since when you walked home with him you weren't wearing a jacket.

you pull the hood of your jacket down to your face as you drink your favorite milk. it's a milk brand from your childhood. oddly, whenever you feel down a sip from this drink makes you feel an inch better probably because it reminded you of good memories.

akaashi squints harder, looking at any identification that would tell him it's you. then, he sees it. the bell keychain with a stuffed bear hanging at the side of your shoulder bag. he follows you with his eyes as you walk pass his house. he quickly types a message to kaori as he pushes himself off from his leaning position.

"saw her pass my house."

akaashi was about to leave his spot when his peripheral vision catches you running back to where you came from. he focuses his attention back to you. the sudden motion causes your hood to slide down on your hair, completely revealing your face to him.

his eyelids peel open as he catches the sight of your next move. his heart hammers against his chest as you pull a folded paper out from the pocket of your sweater. his fingers gripped harder on the window frame. his lips fall ajar as he watches you slip the paper inside their mailbox. you walk away from their gate to head back to your house as if nothing happened while kei stared at the mailbox, stupified with what he had seen.

he lets out an air as it sinks in. soon after a smile crawls on his face. he utters to himself.

"so, it was you all along."

his phone vibrates when a message is notified. he brings his eyes down to the flashed screen of the device as he reads the message. his smile widens when he sees your name.

"im home! :)"

continue reading

a/n: lmao, we're more than halfway through the plot. the goal is to finish this before uni starts -__- anyway thanks for reading! rbs and likes are warms my heart. stay safe and healthy!

taglist: @on-crows-wings @kenmakai

reply to this post if u want to be added on the taglist!

Masterlist

[yamigooops]

~lingerie hcs~

this is just me doing crackhead stuff because I can, y'know?

warnings: a smattering of nsfw, but heavy on nsfw themes

includes: akaashi keiji, osamu miya, kuroo tetsurou, tendou satori, ushijima wakatoshi, oikawa torū, kenma kozume, suna rintarō, bokuto kōtarō, and daichi sawamura

Akaashi

This mans likes things plain and simple, a direct message, so you decide to give it to him straight: you want him home now

He sees a new image message from you and expects some picture of a dish you cooked or a quick shot of you snuggling with the cat on the couch

He never in a million years would have guessed it would be a picture of you nearly naked

He rushes to hide his phone screen from his co-workers, not only because of the graphic content, but because no one else was worthy of seeing your immaculate body

He takes another peek at the image, taking in the lighting and soft curves and every little detail, feeling his pants tighten as he grows hard under the desk

Thankfully you sent it just a bit before he got off, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to wait to get home

The door to the apartment shuts and you grin, moving from the bathroom to perch yourself on the bed. You can hear the dull thumps of his shoes falling to the ground before the sound of his socked feet moving toward where you sat. The bedroom door opened and Akaashi paused, drinking in the sight of you on top of the duvet, chest bare with just a black thong on. His mouth watered at the sight as he tugged on his tie while moving slowly toward you.

“No, no,” you murmured. “Let me take care of that.” You motioned for his tie as he came to a stop before you. You shifted so your legs framed his hips, tugging him closer so your chest pressed against his stomach. You made quick work of his tie and shirt before he lost his patience and stripped off his pants. Guiding you gently onto your back he kissed down your chest between the mounds of your breasts, his hand coming up to knead the soft flesh of one of them. His other hand made its way up from your ankle to rest on your hip just as his lips reached the border of your panties.

“That picture really didn’t leave much to the imagination, darling,” he growled, lips brushing your skin as he slipped his fingers under the edge of the fabric. You sighed as his hot breath found your core, feeling that oh so familiar twinge in your stomach. “Now let’s see what these were hiding.”

Osamu

Listen I have this headcanon that this mans is such a kinky bitch

Like BDSM is totally something I think he would be into

So imagine his s/o wearing this (BUT NO BRA AND UNDIES) while they go at it

You can’t tell me that’s not hot (I mean I guess you could but I’m drooling over the idea)

“Everything feel alright bunny?” he prompted as he pulled the last strap closed. He yanked it just a bit too tight, the leather biting into the flesh of your thigh, but you didn’t complain. It kind of made you even wetter.

“Everything feels perfect, ‘Samu,” you replied in a hushed tone. He ran the tips of his fingers over the straps on your thighs, up your hips and ribs to rest on your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as his grin grew across his face.

“You’re always so good for me bunny,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your forehead. His hands came up to your throat, securing the thick band of leather around the column of your neck as you squirmed against him ever so slightly. “But don’t forget your place, got it? It’s master, and I don’t want you slipping up again.” He gave the back of the collar a tug so the leather tightened against your windpipe and you squeaked out a “Yes master,” knowing this was going to be a long, sleepless night.

Kuroo

I just feel like this man would appreciate something edgy like this

Like shit he’d be salivating over this

The way it shows off your hips AND tits?!

He’d be putty in your hands, try to tell me otherwise

“Baby come on, I just wanna see you,” he called as you finished getting everything in place. His breath hitched as you stepped out of the closet, the heels on your feet clacking against the hardwood floor. His eyes widened as you stopped at the foot of the bed, his throat bobbing as he gulped.

“What’s wrong baby, cat got your tongue?” you purred, climbing onto the bed. You came to straddle his hips, pushing his chest back down to the bed as he tried to rise onto his elbows. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight,” you leaned down to whisper into his ear. You felt his skin prickle beneath your touch as you caught his earlobe in your mouth, nipping at it playfully.

“I must have either been very bad, or very good, and I can’t tell which one would be better,” he chuckled apprehensively as you raised back up on your knees. You ran your hands over his chest, enjoying the feel of the muscles beneath your fingers. “Either way, you better take good care of me tonight,” he smirked, fingers wrapping around the center strap on your chest to pull you down, so you were nose-to-nose with him. “Otherwise I’m gonna be real sad.”

Tendou

You’re just his pillow princess oh my god

This man would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for him

He got you this set as a gift and you’re finally putting it on

It literally takes his breath away

Like he stops in his tracks before he goes absolutely feral

“Do I look pretty?” you ask, socked feet coming to a stop on the cool hardwood by the door as your boyfriend places down his things. All he can do is stare, mouth agape in wonder at the sight of you. You shift from foot to foot, unnecessarily nervous about what he was thinking as he stared at you.

“Pretty girl, you look-” he trailed off, looking for the right words to describe your appearance. “You look like an angel,” he decides, sliding his shoes off before joining you on the hardwood. His long fingers find a home on your frill-clad hips as he pulls you against his chest gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How did you know I was missing you today?”

“I just had a feeling you’d like this,” you giggled, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead against his collarbone.

“Well I really do,” he chuckled, before sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the bedroom to show you exactly how much he enjoyed it.

Ushijima

Ok this man likes it classy and you can’t tell me otherwise

Like he doesn’t need you to show every scrap of skin to be turned on

If something fits you beautifully or you show off in something, he’ll get flustered

So when he sees you walk out in this his mouth opens a bit in shock

You just look so…gorgeous

“D-Darling…” he murmured, jersey in hand and mouth agape. He had just gotten home from a game, and you beat him back to the house as he had to meet with the team afterward. You’d gotten this piece to celebrate his next big win, and that just happened to be today.

“Congratulations on the win today honey,” you smiled, coming to place a hand on his chest. He looked down at you with quiet love in his eyes. “I thought I’d surprise you.” There was a seductive tone to your voice that made blood rush to his groin as the hand you had placed on his chest slowly made its way down over his abdomen.

“While this is unnecessary,” he began, lips quirking up at the corners. He placed a hand on your hip, gently fisting his fingers in the slick fabric of your skirt. “I won’t say I’m upset with you, not in the slightest.” Leaning down, he placed his lips against the skin beneath your ear. “But color me surprised,” he growls, the bass of his voice rumbling against your skin just before he sweeps you up to show you just how much he appreciates you.

Oikawa

We all know this mans is EXTRA

So only the best will do for him

You walk out in this and he’s instantly drooling

Like you’re his diamond, but seeing you decked out in bling like this just goes right to his dick

“Baby you-“ he gulps, feeling his pants tighten. You’d just gotten back from a nice dinner and you let your dress fall to the floor to reveal this. “You had that on all night?”

“It’s comfier than you’d expect,” you smirked, stepping out of the pool of fabric. You came to run a hand down his chest, undoing buttons as you went. His hands came to rest on your hips to fiddle with the chains there, and you couldn’t help the swell in your chest at the fact that you’d made him go silent.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think to get you something like this sooner,” he purred into your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. He let one hand stray up over your breast to play with the chains there, fingers brushing your skin and raising goosebumps. “You always look like a million bucks, but now you’re sparkly. What am I gonna do with you darling?”

Kenma

You come into the gaming room just as he is finishing up a stream and sit down on the giant Totoro plush he got you last year.

You’re out of sight of the camera, which is a wonderful thing because you’re not decent at all

He greets you with a hello and a sideways glance, returning his eyes to the monitor for just a moment before doing a quick double take

You grin as he tells the stream he has to wrap it up because you’re calling him for dinner

You never even say a word >:)

He turns off the stream and yanks off his headphones, not bothering to turn off the ring light at his desk or log out of anything he has open

“Kitten, what’s this,” he purrs, sitting on the edge of his seat as you settle in. You just smile over at him, twirling the chain connected to your choker around your finger.

“I need help with something,” you tease, bringing one knee up so he could see just a peek of your panties beneath your skirt. You watched as he swallowed thickly, wiping his palms on his joggers and letting his eyes roam over your delicious form. He stood slowly, lips turning up in a sly grin as you nestled further into the plush.

“Anything you need, princess, you know that,” he cooed, stopping before you and holding out his hand for the leash. You hand it to him gently, drawing in a breath as he yanks on it playfully.

Suna

I just feel like this absolutely fits his vibe

Dark and seductive but also frilly like?? Come on

And he would think you look so cute sitting there like a pretty little doll

All ready to be fucked senseless

“Oh baby doll, look at you,” he cooed, slowly approaching you on the bed. “You got all dressed up just for me?”

“Course, Rin,” you giggled, pressing your thighs together as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flash as he took photos of you all dolled up for him. “Pose for me baby,” he crooned, moving to get better angles of you. “You look too pretty to not have pictures taken of you.” You moved, posing for him on the bed as the flash went off every few seconds. He chuckled as you worked the camera before he tossed it to the corner of the bed, tugging off his shirt and crawling onto the bed.

“Did you get some good pictures?” You smirked, twining your fingers into his hair as he came to straddle your waist.

“Oh of course, you’re the prettiest model I could ask for,” he hummed, placing his lips gently against your forehead. “’Specially in this, you look stunning right now babe. Can’t wait to see it on the ground though.”

Bokuto

You decided to go shopping for new lingerie, and couldn’t decide between two different sets

Since you wanted this to be a surprise for Bo, you decided to send pics of both to your best friend

HOWEVER

You accidentally sent them to Bokuto

Meanwhile, this mans is at the gym, pumping iron with the rest of the MSBY team, and he’s just bopping out to his work out playlist when he gets a text notification from his sweetiepie

He opens it in earnest, eager to see what you had to say, and almost has a nosebleed

He texts you back saying which one he likes better, and you realize your mistake, but get the one he picked out

Homeboy has a tent in his gym shorts for the rest of the workout, and by the time he comes home you’re already back and waiting for him

“Are you home baby?” he calls as he walks in the door, just needing to know how long he’d have to wait before being able to take care of the problem in his shorts.

“I’m getting changed,” you call from the closet, sliding the final straps into place. There was the sound of hurried footsteps outside, then the door opened, and your boyfriend stepped into the room. He caught sight of you in the closet and stared for a moment, eyes drinking in every curve and line of your body. He moved to stand behind you, one hand grasping your hip and the other brushing your hair back to as he leaned down to press his lips to the junction of your neck and collarbone.

“Mmmmm you look so sexy in this, babe,” he groaned against your neck. He tugged your hips back as he ground his length against your ass. His free hand trailed up your tummy to gently knead your breast. His calloused fingers were soft on your skin, but you could feel the need behind the action as you let out a soft moan.

“They were supposed to be a s-surprise,” you huffed, leaning your head back against his shoulder as his lips moved up the column of your throat.

A shiver shot up your spine as those lips came to a rest next to your ear and whispered, “Well I’m glad you didn’t make me wait.”

Daichi

SOFT! DOM! DADDY! DAICHI!

This man would make you feel so pretty and would buy you all the pretty frilly things you could ever want and just omg

He totally bought this for you and thought you would look so pretty in it

So you decided that after a long day on patrol, he deserved to come home to something soft and sweet

His hat dropped from his hand as he opened the door, finding you perched lightly on the bed looking like an angel and ready for him. “Hi daddy,” you smiled gently, fidgeting with the frills on the garters atop your thighs. “How was your day at work?”

He looked like he could fall apart, like all the stress suddenly left his body and left him bare and weak. So, you stood and made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his muscular chest and burying your face in his uniform. He slowly wrapped an arm around your waist, while the other came up to cradle your head. “Baby girl, you must be psychic because this is exactly what I needed,” he murmured into your hair.

Looking up at him with worry in your eyes, you pouted slightly. “Did you have a bad day at work?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. He usually tried to keep work out of the bedroom, so if he was willing to admit that, you knew it must have been really bad. “It was pretty stressful, I won’t lie.”

Placing one hand against his cheek you smiled softly up at him. “Then let me make you feel better, okay daddy?”

~~~~~

@exquisuna @banana-grammar @kalesugar @bokutowifelol

[catchmewiddershins]

What it’s like to be loved by them

Ah yes I am throwing out some scraps of content because I finally was able to free up some time to write! And then had no ideas! So we’re doing something cliché lol - Also I used a random character wheel to pick who to write for- (I CAN’T SPELL HINATA’S FIRST NAME IT ALL LOOKS WRONG)

Includes: Miya Osamu, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shoyou, Yaku Morisuke, Akaashi Keiji, Oikawa Tooru and Shouhei Fukunaga

Miya Osamu:

Osamu is silver-blue piano and soft chords, the sunlight that slips so softly through the slats on blinds that are slightly broken, the slightly sticky feeling of wet rice in your hands as it fits into the lines that weave across your palms. He is white, cotton blankets and fluffed pillows, cloudy lemonade and losing sight of your toes in a thick carpet. He’s the feeling of calloused fingers on yours, fluffy socks and the taste of warm soups in winter as it breathes its hot steam down your throat and heats your stomach. He is cold cheeks and noses, tea-stained pages and the golden scent of fresh bread that signifies the best feelings of life. Osamu is hand-knitted tea cosies and watercolour paintings blu-tacked to the wall, warm, buttered popcorn and the feeling of the highstreet at night. He is the lights that glimmer on the midnight motorway and moon when it's risen in a blue afternoon sky. Being loved by Osamu is to bob on the ocean, the sun at your back and baking your legs, with salt crusting your skin and the taste of the sea on your lips while his fingers lock with yours, the perfect puzzle pieces to finish you both as the crowing laughs of seagulls echo above you.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima is solid wood and tall forests, the green sound of a breeze ruffling grass like a father’s hand on the head of his child. He is apples and ice cubes and soft, plaid blankets laid on the dirt. He is the sight of a small ladybird, crouched on the tip of a finger, wings spread to fly into the great expanse of sky that stretches before it. He is red sunrises and purple evenings, the hazy, grey brightness that slows the day, the syrupy sluggish afternoons of drizzled rain and icing on lemon cakes, eaten with hot tea in a library. He is muffled laughter in the corridors and coats and hands that swamp and cover and protect, and the feeling of always looking up, up, up. He is the dusty, old clock you found in the attic and the wooden slats of old houses, he is peeling plaster and new paint, and the squeak and shine of polished floors. He is secret passages through the walls and flights of stairs that extend to infinity, and the deep, throbbing, beetroot purple of the tightest hugs that root themselves down into your chest. Being loved by Ushijima is being loved by the bass line of life, it’s his hand on your head and the other hovering at your waist, slow dancing to songs that weren’t meant for such smooth delight, him spinning you out as the air sparkles and being close to the beat of his heart and mind as you glide and dip and swerve to the thrum of his voice.

Hinata Shoyou:

Hinata is the tightness in your thighs they day after exercise and the sweet tang of mangoes in summer. He's August days when the ground wavers and the grass becomes caramel. He is hot red bricks under bare feet and the dizzying height of the walls of your garden. He is water fights and sprinklers in the baking sun, the squinting eyes and glaring lights, the shortest shorts you own. He is the smokey scent of sausage that stings and waters your tongue, the barbequed weekends and idle chatter of friends and the chink of ice that melts too quickly in glasses of juice that have been kept in the fridge. He's the soft comfort of pyjamas and burning hot skin on a cold day, marshmallows and fire and smouldering logs. He is the dance of heated air and the warmth that fogs the bathroom mirror. He is sand in your toes at one moment and the top of a cliff the next. Being loved by Hinata is the kites that float over the hilltops and the whipped foam of waves and the splattered paint of blankets, the mismatch of deckchairs and parasols at the beach, a sandcastle and the flagpole on top, and the horizon that stretches so far into the distance.

Yaku Morisuke:

Yaku is beaming, sunshine laughter and the ruffled hair of little kids. He is the background chatter in a café and the music playing in your favourite shops, the rushing of places and people as you're dragged down the street on your way to somewhere special. He's the thud, thud, thud of sprinting down a massive hill as the air is ripped from your lungs and your joyful screams are lost to the spiraling sky. He's the blur of green and blue and the smell of grass as you roll half of the way. He is the juice of melting ice lollies and the teasing winks of wind chimes by the sea, he's the sticky residue of broken stems that leaves itself on your fingers after the construction of a daisy chain. He's the light of a phone screen in the dark and the print of an old book where the s and f look irritatingly similar. He is the warmth of your own bed and the scent of your own home, the feeling of old clothes and attachment. Being loved by Yaku is to call to the birds that circle overhead and to feed fresh strawberries to one another, to play fight with sticks and paint your legs with grass stains and to trundle home with the exhaustion that comes from euphoria, sharing a hand, high on life.

Akaashi Keiji:

Akaashi is a lake, clear as glass and just as cold, although not the biting cold, but the cold that invites hot chocolate and a log fire. He is the lakes that teem with fish that nudge your numbing fingers and make you wonder at the world, he is the sunlight that glints off of slick rocks and your glimmering skin. He's the royal blue of day and the navy of night, the colour of the ocean, and of flowers, and of the quiet hum of a cello played delicately. He is the fingers of trees that reach to the sun, and the crunching silence of wet autumn leaves, the scent of old books and ink and the eternal echo of time in a museum. He is the sculpted face of statue and the warmth of a flushed face, the fragility of butterfly wings and flower petals and the strength of the trunk of an oak. He is hummingbirds and kingfishers and the simmering yellow of a springtime kiss. He is the sun at your neck and the shade of a tree above you, the splash of a diving duck and the tickle of grass on your bare feet. Being loved by Akaashi is staring up at him from where you sit, serene tranquility, the faint thrum of a river beneath you as your hand disturbs it, the creak of an aging wooden boat and the dappled sunlight that streams through the trees as he rows you to love.

Oikawa Tooru:

Oikawa is the tinkling of bells and the birdsong that flies in the early morning. He is the banded sunrise and all of its colours, the yellow songs on the radio that you sing along to, the orange-gold warmth of early evening, the pink of a blush on his cheeks, the purple light of the night that casts his face into shadow and the navy blue of his wallpaper. He is doodles on desks and using highlighter ink for nail varnish, he is cute stationery and over-curled handwriting and the giggles that come from sharing a secret. He is the creak of benches that have been sat on too many times and the blinding colours of tropical fish in an aquarium. He’s the blasting sound of loud radio, the rush of windows wide open at seventy miles an hour, the pressure against an arm thrown out of the window and the crescendo of voices singing at the top of their lungs until your voices crack and your throats are deserts. Being loved by Oikawa is whipped cream on your nose and joyful laughter, pancakes on the ceiling and sprinkles scattered over the floor, it’s playing children’s games while waiting for a cake to cook, and snuggling up with popcorn in a fairy-light bedecked fort, with foundations of cotton and walls of blankets as the white glare of television shines in your eyes.

Shouhei Fukunaga:

Fukunaga is uncontrollable giggling and whispered jokes, he is the fire-engine red of plastic buckets and spades, the sweetness of sugary treats and the fizz of sherbert on your tongue. He is brightly coloured doors and hanging baskets of flowers, the unevenness of cobbled streets and pastel houses. He’s the soft song of a springtime breeze when it brushes your cheek with a tender hand and blows your eyes open, dusting your face and head, the exhilarating rush of staring into the wind, the drop in your stomach as you lean backwards into its support. He is the chime of a shop door and the crinkle of packets that have been piled into your arms, the warmth of a kitchen and the taste of joy. He’s puns and playful nudges and blinding grins, crinkling eyes and soft cheeks stretched wide, he’s homemade food and the sparkling expression of the one who made it, he’s the warmth of a borrowed jumper, the mould of a side that you fit to so easily, the clicking of a keyboard when online games are played together. He is the snacks that have melted slightly in his bag, odd socks with garish patterns, googly eyes stuck all over his books, doodles in the margins and fluffy pencil toppers, dancing with no rhythm to old songs in the kitchen and letting yourselves go wild. Being loved by Fukunaga is to lie under the coffee table, your eyes falling into his as he stares you down, deft fingers nimbly shuffling cards, it’s to laugh in disbelief as he pulls your card from the deck, eyebrows wiggling their way off of his face, a playful beam poking through his lips, your legs are tangled together and one of your arms is going numb but it doesn’t matter, you are his and he is yours.

[kosagum]

mouth like porcelain — akaashi keiji/bokuto koutarou · drabble · 435 words

summary: to a boy whose skin was made of porcelain.

akaashi has never cared for anything beyond the rounded edges of curved walls, his calloused fingers running over the uneven surface, and the echoing drum of the slap of his right hand. akaashi wishes on days like these, with nothing but cold, empty space, that the world wasn’t so big, so complicated, so—

nevertheless, his world was small. occupied by and encapsulated of everything he knows, which consists of a very few. the static hum of muffled voices filling the white noise to keep him company. content with the warm presence of the sun, though its rays never reach his side. akaashi is okay with this. still, he could feel the pressure of each step of the world crack into his skin, spreading like branches all over his body. shoulders up to his ears when he feels the vibration, followed by a high-pitched noise piercing through him as it rings and echoes in his bones.

though, there were moments of clarity. where he could take control of the momentum and rotation of the world with his fingertips. running his fingers through the delicate art ingrained throughout his body. moments where he stares idly at the reflection of the world on his skin. akaashi cherishes these moments with shallow breaths, too afraid that just one will cause it to slip through his cracks. 

—

bokuto koutarou summons earthquakes with every step he takes, each with its own note. he moves in tandem to that tune. nothing about it is graceful or elegant; it’s destructive, demanding the whole space of the world and more. a fight to take his place in the heavens, rather than a dance. everything that akaashi is weak to.

entranced by the way he falls, akaashi falls too - hard. the ache of his cracked limbs is washed over by his hunger; bokuto’s appetite is contagious. able to convince one that the rumbling of one’s stomach is the bass of their own symphony, to play the strings of the crowd and conduct their cheers as fuel for his own engine. launching himself high enough so that he cracks the earth’s crust with angel wings beneath his feet when he lands. akaashi feels the familiarity of the waves when they reverberate within the ground, continuing their motion in the wind. bokuto is the very pulse that breaks akaashi. 

though, despite all of this, akaashi collides. 

and he is met with a chorus of his own screeching lungs.

—

in moments like these, where the space between them isn’t separated by gravity, he is weak again. 

akaashi forgets that, even with shattering limps, he is made of porcelain.

[denkamis]

hq characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! aside from some swearing, it’s just some fluffy valentine’s day scenarios for you. reader is gn.

characters: keiji akaashi, kenma kozume, yuu nishinoya, koushi sugawara.

notes: dedicated to @koushisun,, for being an exceptionally kind individual and having immaculate taste in 2d men. i hope we can get closer the more we talk, kris. thank you for being my first friend here on da tumbz. <33

keiji akaashi

confessions behind the school building

were you nervous about finally confessing your feelings to akaashi on valentine’s day of all days? absolutely

he was one of, if not the prettiest, impressively athletic, and overwhelmingly intelligent boys in your class

he probably got at least ten confessions on the daily

and valentine’s day simply doubled the number

and here you were, with your tiny valentine’s day card and box of chocolates in hand

you had heard from all the girls that he had been turning down confessions left and right, only adding onto your mountain of nerves

little did you know that he was waiting for you

cherry blossoms bloomed above your heads, falling gracefully like something right out of a shoujo anime. you tapped the tip of your shoe against the pavement, a nervous tick you had garnered that helped keep you grounded. this was it. this was the moment today was leading up to. you and akaashi were standing behind fukurodani, stealing away a bit of privacy. you didn’t need the prying eyes of the other girls watching as you confessed to your year long crush.

akaashi waited with a patient gaze, unmoving from his spot a few feet ahead of you. he gave you space, and didn’t force you to talk right away. it was as if he already knew the intricacies of your thoughts, the way your mind spiraled if you were suddenly put on the spot, especially when it was as intimate and open as confessing your feelings.

“i wanted to tell you, i mean- what i’ve been trying to tell you for years is that i, well,” your tongue felt like it was two sizes too big. your fingers fidgeted behind your back, holding onto the tiny note and chocolates you had made for him yourself. “i like you a lot more than i really let on. you’re always so thoughtful and considerate. you listen to me when i ramble, and you help me with homework or even small things i don’t completely understand. that’s um, that’s really nice of you. i know you’ve probably received a lot of gifts today, but if you could spare a bit of your backpack space to accept mine, it would mean the world to me.” you bowed towards him, eyes glued to the floor as you held out the small box of chocolates and the note you had written.

you didn’t catch the way a smile tugged at his usually stoic features, or the way he tilted his head in thought while wondering how much courage you mustered up to confess like this. still, you felt nimble fingers brushing against yours, the weight of your gift leaving your grip.

“thank you, y/n,” akaashi told you gratefully as you stood up to your full height, “i’m glad that you feel the same as i do.”

“... wait what.”

kenma kozume

heart shaped candies

kenma rarely has plans for valentine’s day tbh

he treats it like any other day because it’s just a day to play some animal crossing and farm more on stardew valley

however, when you waltz into his life, he panics a little bit as the date draws closer

he wants to make you feel special on valentine’s day

he settled for those tiny heart shaped candies, knowing that you had quite the sweet tooth

he wasn’t gonna leave you hanging on valentine’s day, sweetheart

kenma held your hand in his as the two of you walked home together. the day was rainy, small droplets of water pattering against the shared umbrella the two of you were situated beneath. you were talking about school, something or other about the clubs you were in and how passionate you were about starting your very own this year. kenma listened tentatively, an easy smile on his face as he watched your eyes light up and your free hand gesture and fly about as you spoke.

you were adorable.

the two of you soon arrived at your house, and you promised kenma that you would call him tonight so the two of you could play games or watch some netflix together over the internet. you two had been particularly invested in some k-drama that always left the two of you at the edge of your seats. you planted a gentle kiss to his cheek, his face erupting in crimson right to the tips of his ears. giggling quietly, you wished him goodbye, your hand beginning to slide from his as you went to leave. to your surprise, he held on tighter.

with his gaze cast down, you watched as he pulled out a tiny bag of heart shaped candies from his pocket. “i know it’s not much, but i saw everyone else getting their partners gifts and kuroo said that it would be good if i got you something too.”

you accepted his small token of affection with shaky hands and flushed cheeks. peering inside the clear bag, you saw a whole collection of multi-coloured candies reading cheesy phrases such as ‘b mine’, ‘true love’ or even a ‘cutiepie.’

“kenma, i love it. oh my.. haha! i thought you forgot since you didn’t mention anything about gifts for today.” kenma’s hand squeezed yours, his eyes lifting from the wet ground to meet your own with a small yet confident smile.

“i wouldn’t forget something as important as you.”

yuu nishinoya

big teddy bears

an absolutely chaotic mess on valentine’s day

he’s so excited that he finally has someone to spoil, so he wants to go all out

he figured that the best present to get you was the biggest teddy bear he could find

he went to 6 stores and dragged asahi and tanaka with him

he saw a teddy bear that was literally twice his size and went “I’LL TAKE IT”

mans has no chill, he spent literally his entire allowance on it

his grandpa didn’t even bat an eye PFFT

when nishinoya showed up at your doorstep with a chunky teddy bear in tow, you had no words. truly. it had been at the stroke of midnight when he texted you to come outside and see the valentine’s gift he had gotten you. you had said that this could wait until morning, but he insisted that this could not wait another moment. it was technically valentine’s day, after all! this resulted in you dragging yourself down the stairs of your home to greet him at the door. to your surprise, yet at the same time not surprising you in the slightest, was noya carrying the largest teddy bear you had ever laid your eyes on. not only that, but tanaka and what appeared to be a very exhausted asahi accompanied him.

“y/n-chan!” nishinoya shouted boldly and triumphantly, getting down on one knee which instantly made you panic. he wasn’t going to propose, was he? no he wouldn’t. would he? oh god. your words got caught in your throat, trying to formulate some kind of response to his sudden and incoming declaration. yet, a proposal never came. he held up the teddy bear as if it were simba from the lion king, the entire stuffed animal basically shielding his shorter form from your view. you suppressed a snort with your hand.

“i searched far and wide for this gigantic teddy bear for you, please accept it this valentine’s day!” nishinoya said loud and clear from behind the bear. you were having trouble stifling your laughter because from your angle, it looked like the bear itself was saying these words to you. you attempted to take the huge bear from his arms but it ended up being a lot heavier than you anticipated.

“noya, really this is-”

“take the picture!” noya whisper shouted to tanaka, who was holding up his phone camera with a thumbs up. noya posed beside you with an arm tossed around your waist, throwing up a peace sign and sticking out his tongue. leave it to yuu nishinoya to spoil you with the biggest bear he could find. it was incredibly endearing, especially when you found out from asahi that he nearly got kicked out from a walmart after knocking down the entire teddy bear display. he could be the biggest dork sometimes. but you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

koushi sugawara

baking together

he saw the idea on pinterest and he had to try it out with you

they were cupcakes red velvet with pink, buttercream frosting

easy, right? it would be a cute little date, you could even stay over at his house while you watched a romcom or something of the sort while they were baking

turns out it wasn’t easy

at all

“shit fuck, oh god- shit!” koushi mumbled to himself as he was spilling some of the red cupcake mix over the side of the bowl. you were trying your best not to laugh too much but you couldn’t help your giggles when koushi shot you a playfully annoyed glare, his nose powered with sugar and flourmaking him look straight out of a victorian magazine. baking with koushi had gone just as well as you thought it would. there was a lot of flour being thrown around, a few stray chocolate chips and sprinkles now on the floor serving as reminders of past quarrels. koushi had always been a rather chaotic individual behind his “soft boy” demeanour he liked to flaunt. he could be so goofy and fun. he could be your greatest hype man but also the person you knew could be in your corner when it counted. and here the two of you were, making a mess in your shared kitchen at nine at night for a valentine’s day date.

“honey, you’re mixing it too fast!”

“i’m mixing it just fine, see look! it’s supposed to be this thick,” his ahoge bobbed back and forth atop his head as he mixed with quite literally his entire torso. his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focused hardcore on the making sure the mixture was abolished of any and all chunkiness present. you rolled your eyes, a wide smile on your face despite his stubbornness. “the oven’s been preheating for thirty minutes now.”

“well the oven can wait,” he huffed, tapping the neck of the whisk against the bowl to remove the excess mix before grabbing a ladle to begin scooping all the mix into the muffin tin. not without another mess, of course.

“kou, stop moving the—”

“i’m not moving anything, you’re just making me laugh!”

“hand me the spoon, hand it over.”

“it’s not a spoon!”

“it’s a big ass spoon.”

“y/n!”

you were bickering like an old married couple as your hands reached greedily for the ladle that already had some cupcake mix in it. koushi held it out of your reach, causing him to back up into the counter while you hopped in an attempt to get it back. in your desperate attempts, you slipped on the flour from your little past war and caused the two of you to collapse to the floor in a heap of giggles and laughter.

yeah, you two would definitely never be touching any sort of recipe after that day, you absolute menaces.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

[cno-inbminor]

domus (pt. 2)

a/n: i found some motivation to write part 2, so here we are! it’s unedited for now, but i’ll make edits in the morning. you will need to read part 1 for context!

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~5.5k, will probably have one more part

genre/warnings: angst with teaspoons of fluff; two mentions of alcohol and sex

pt. 1 | pt. 3

The sliver of sunlight peeking through the blackout curtains gently draws you from your sleep, peeling away the exhaustion that sits atop your eyelids. They creak open as your body shifts and stretches, and you bring a curled hand to rub your eyes awake. You don’t remember the last time you slept so deeply, and part of you wants nothing more than to burrow back into the gray sheets.

Gray sheets?

The world teeters on its axis as you abruptly sit up in an unrecognizable bed – colors dance in splotches across your vision as panic seeps into your lungs – and then you remember last night’s events. That’s right. You’re at Keiji’s nice apartment where he so kindly offered you his bed, taking the couch for himself, and you’re going to be here for the week.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter to yourself before burying your face into the palms of your hands, trying to calm down. Your phone rests neatly on his nightstand and seems to taunt you as you lift your head back up. You wonder if Tetsuro texted last night, but if you had to be honest with yourself, you genuinely hope he didn’t. He might be anxiously waiting for your promised correspondence, as you imagine him checking his phone with hopeful eyes every time it vibrates in the pocket of his white coat. But you still needed some time and space.

Your body slides off the bed, stretching once you’re on your feet. With phone in hand, you check your emails and notifications while making your way to the window and then pulling back the curtains. Sunlight softly pours in as the rays just begin to peak above the horizon, painting the sky in gradient shades of marigold and fuschia pink. Tokyo seemed to be just as beautiful in the morning as it is at night, only that the pollution and smog in the air was more visible.

The digital clock hanging on Keiji’s bedroom wall indicates it’s barely past 7AM – in the past, Keiji could be a bit of a late riser on the weekends. Judging by the silence on the other side of the door, you figure he’s still asleep. If you are lucky and quiet enough, you could whip up some breakfast as a thanks for last night. In fact, you decided you’d do your best to make most of the meals. Surely Keiji wouldn’t mind a week without having to worry about meal prepping.

The bedroom door silently opens as you gently pad to the restroom – you freshen up a bit and swig around some mouth wash, staring into the mirror. Given Keiji’s comfortable state of dressing down last night, you figured it was fine to change into a large t-shirt and gym shorts for now. If he ever looks uncomfortable by your attire, then you could easily change into something else that’s a little more formal. Once you’re ready, you take a deep breath, slightly psyching yourself up for the possibility that Keiji is awake and kicking.

As you approach the living room, catching sight of your host’s sleeping complexion facing you, your heart skips a beat. One thing that you are unprepared for is just how beautiful Keiji is. It would be silly to deny this fact – you didn’t have to be in love with the man to say so. In addition to that mysterious aura he carried around, the ethereal and angelic beauty that Keiji possessed only enticed his admirers further. A smile cracks on your face as you muse the idea that it should be a crime for someone to look so delicately celestial, especially in sleep.

Keiji lies on his back with one arm bent over his head, the other atop his stomach. It seems that his blanket slipped to the ground at some point, and you could see a faint layer of goosebumps dancing across his skin. Slowly, you pick it up and gather the gray cotton blend into your arms, laying one end of it on his feet and moving up to cover the rest of his body. You leave the excess scrunched up right under his chin, taking a closer look at his face.

Keiji’s skin is smooth and dewy, eyelashes dark against his cheekbones. They flutter in dreams as his lips are slightly parted with even, soft breaths leaving them. You feel some concern when you spot the dark eye circles, hoping that he wasn’t overworking himself too much. But being an editor at a major shonen manga company must have its long list of demands, and Keiji was never short of doing his best.

Suddenly, he shifts and seems to burrow himself in the comfort of his blanket, effectively ripping you from the trance that you were in. You quickly tip toe away towards the kitchen, doing your best to stop your heart from beating so hard that you could feel it pulse in your ears. Your purse sits open on the counter and you pull your earbuds from it, slipping them in and connecting it to your phone. Putting on a soft indie playlist, you begin to become familiar with Keiji’s kitchen.

Much to your amusement, the placement of his pots, pans, cooking equipment, and more, resemble that of how things were arranged in his parents’ house. This makes your task much easier, and you grin to yourself even more when you open his refrigerator. Just like back then, the milk and cream are on the top shelf, egg carton in the middle pressed against the left wall, vegetables stored in the drawers, sauce jars on the door side, leftovers just beneath the eggs, and fruits by the eggs. It seems that some old habits really do die hard.

With the smile still lingering on your face, you begin cooking.

-

Keiji’s heart might just beat out of his chest any second now, and he thinks it’s a miracle that you didn’t realize he’s been awake all this time.

He first woke when he heard the water running from the sink in the bathroom, wincing slightly at the slight ache in his back. Keiji wasn’t lying when he said the couch was truly comfortable, but his mattress had undoubtedly spoiled him. It also would have been a bonus to wake up next to someone for once, but that was a thought he quickly squashed. Just as he was about to reach down for his blanket, the bathroom doorknob turned and he panicked. Keiji was quick to assume his previous sleeping position and shut his eyes, breathing as evenly as possible. He’s not quite sure why he’s feigning sleep, but part of him didn’t want you to feel bad for waking him up. It wasn’t terribly late in the morning yet, and he was usually still asleep at this time. Knowing you, you would feel awful and probably spend the rest of the week trying to make up for it, or worse, leave to spend the nights at a cheap hotel. He refuses to let such a thing happen under his watch, not if he could help it.

So caught up in his thoughts, he commends himself for not flinching when the blanket begins to cover his legs, and quite nearly bursts at your gentle movements and the way you tuck the edge under his chin. He remembers doing the same thing to you last night and wills away the blood from flooding his face at the memory of kissing you on the cheek. How could he be so reckless?

Unable to keep his position, he moves just slightly, and based on the tiny, distant creaks of his floorboards, you’ve probably walked away. As his ears catch the opening of cupboards and the fridge, only then does he dare to peek his eyes open again. He wonders what you’re thinking about with the small grin on your face, if it has anything do with the fact that you’re cooking for someone or whatever you might be listening to. Keiji’s gaze softens, watching you bob and sway to the music in your ears, remembering the times he drove the both of you home from university. Even though you could easily commute, Keiji’s mother demanded that he use his car and offer you a ride home for the holidays, and he’d give you full control of the music playing. You’d always try to play something he was okay with, bless your soul, and sometimes he would even sing along. He pretended to ignore your incredulous side glances when you realized he was singing as well, and would always look out his window to hide the smile that matched yours.

While he’s been in the city his whole life, living alone really does hit sometimes. It’s one thing to have his parents visit from time to time, but coming back to an empty and dark apartment can really take its toll. Perhaps that’s why he feels so fond right now, observing the way you move around his kitchen with so much familiarity. Adorned in your casual clothes, Keiji realizes that this is what it’d look like if you actually lived with him – except he’d probably still be asleep in his own mattress, a little nonplussed at waking up to an empty bed with the sheets fighting to retain some of your body heat. And he would get up and watch from the doorframe as you whipped something up for the both of you, perhaps walking towards you to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and—

No, you were still Kuroo’s.

And that fact hurt him more than he ever expected.

-

You let out a shrill yelp and nearly drop the silicone spatula when you turn away from the stove, only to spot Keiji resting his elbows on the countertop and placing his chin on top of folded hands. An amused smirk crosses his face as you rip your earbuds out and fling them over one shoulder, one hand reaching over to your heart. “Fucking hell, Keiji,” you pant. “Warn a girl, will you?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he reasons, moving to grab a couple of plates from the drying rack by the sink and handing them to you. “Here.”

You thank him and bring them by the stove, lifting the frying pan to distribute the scrambled eggs. They’re just how he likes them, he notices, and also doesn’t fail to spot that his portion is larger than yours. As you begin to spread butter on a couple of pieces of toast, Keiji sees the that his coffee brewer is still open, believing that you haven’t caught the chance to start it. He makes sure there’s enough water and grounds for two cups, starting the machine and grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. One of them was brought from his parents’ home, and had been the mug you frequently used whenever you were there. Keiji knew you were a creature of habit, and once that porcelain had been lent to you at the age of thirteen, you would forever be its second owner. Why he brought it when he moved in was a bit of a mystery, yet deep down inside, he knew exactly why.

It was the same reason why he would buy that specific bottle of dessert wine, why he kept tabs on the ramen shop you liked, why he kept some of your song recommendations saved on his Spotify account, why your Instagram and Snapchat stories were always one of the first few to view on his respective home pages. But he’d keep that reason to himself for now.

“A splash of cream and a small teaspoon of sugar?” Keiji calls out curiously, silently praying that he remembers your coffee preferences correctly. He’s rewarded with the beam on your face as you nod, watching you bring the toast to the plates as he stirs your coffee. You spot the unaltered coffee and take it in your hands.

“Two splashes of cream and half a small spoonful of sugar?” You ask and Keiji nods. Inside, you pump your fist in delight. Keiji brings the two cups to the dining table while you bring the food and utensils – he could get used to this, really. The two of you say your thanks and dig in. When Keiji takes a sip of his coffee, he has to hide the upturned corners of his lips behind his cup because it’s exactly how he likes it, exactly how it tastes like every other morning he drinks coffee. And it baffles him to no end.

Unbeknownst to him, you feel the same way, eyes almost widening in surprise when you taste your own. Another detail that Keiji seemed to keep over the years was being added to this list you didn’t realize you would ever make, but you weren’t complaining. After all, he did assure you last night that you two were friends. It wasn’t all in your head and the time spent together hadn’t been for naught.

“Do you have any plans while you’re here?” He inquires behind a bite of toast.

“Not really,” you reply quietly, chopsticks now picking at the scrambled eggs. “The most I thought was to visit some museums that I missed going to, check out some of the food stalls maybe. I didn’t really think things through.”

“That’s okay,” Keiji comforts. “If you’d like, I can work from home for a few days and we can go do something. I don’t want to leave you all alone here for the whole day.”

“You don’t need to!” You wave your hands frantically, feeling like the worst imposer now. Not only have you showed up at his apartment unexpectedly and staying for the time being, he was offering to work from home to spend time with you?

“I haven’t used any of my vacation days this year anyways. I have a good reason now, and they don’t mind when I work from home either. I don’t ask very often, but I still get work done so it doesn’t bother them.”

“Are you sure that’s okay? Really, I can go find another place to stay and—”

“No.” Keiji’s tone is firm and final, leaving any words of protest to die on the tip of your tongue. “Seriously, it’s okay,” he reassures you softly. “Plus, I have a few ideas in mind.”

“I’ll cook most of the meals then,” you attempt to compromise. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Only because you won’t stop asking until I say yes,” he jokes with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll split the cost of the groceries.”

“Then I’ll just send the money right back to you.”

“Remember when you tried to give me gas money for driving us from and to uni for the holidays?”

“You always refused it,” you smile fondly at the memory. “Eventually I just started slipping it into the middle console when you weren’t paying attention.”

“That would explain the stray bills and coins in there,” he mutters. “My mother would throw a fit if she knew you gave me gas money.”

“Which is exactly why I told you not to tell her.”

“Should I tell her now then?”

“And have her call me up to scold me for doing so? Please, you’d be in just as much trouble for taking it.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t aware of the last few times, so I’d be safe.”

“…you’re ridiculous.”

“Oh?” Keiji chuckles, arching an eyebrow playfully as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“Shut up,” you grumble over a mouthful of eggs.

“So,” he leans back in his chair. “How do you feel about going to Osaka on Monday?”

-

While Keiji had a mental list of things that have cheered you up over the years, he figured you needed to see some friends from home. And to him, there was no better reminder of that than seeing Bokuto in the flesh.

Koutaro was aware of the friendship between the two of you and had always been kind to you, engaging in light conversation whenever you visited the volleyball courts to drop something off for Keiji. Kuroo had taken notice of you then as well, but nothing came of it until uni. Koutaro was also privy to some of Keiji’s affection, knowing how much the latter had kept an eye out on you during their last year of high school. So when he got a call and a short explanation of what happened, he was more than happy to hear that the two of you would be visiting.

You and Keiji hop on one of the earliest bullet trains to Osaka, where the grey-haired friend would meet you two at the station. Not long after the train gradually lurches forward, traveling at almost inhuman speeds, the food cart starts to roll down the aisle. You let Keiji take the window seat for this portion of the ride, quickly paying for two flavored onigiris before he can protest. After thanking the kind worker, you place his preferred filling in his lap, watching in delight as he thanks you and unwraps the item with care. Two and a half hours later, you find yourself wrapped up in Koutaro’s strong arms, struggling to catch your breath as he nearly squeezes the life out of you.

Much of the morning until lunch is spent observing their practice – you feel like you’re back in high school again with Koutaro’s excitement practically radiating off of him and into the stands. Keiji’s just glad that your mind is focused on something else, recalling the pensive yet troubled look on your face during most of the train ride as you stared down at your phone. Koutaro has kept his mouth shut for now, but Keiji could tell that he was dying to ask you some questions. After all, both of them had been good friends with Testuro, and there was no doubt that the former Fukurodani ace still kept in touch with him from time to time.

After being introduced to the team, shaking hands with the other players and bowing politely at a reasonable distance away specifically for Kiyoomi, you and Keiji leave with a wave, promising to join them for dinner. Koutaro had given you a list of possible places to sightsee, as well as a few recommendations for lunch near the gym. Eventually, you two settle on a nearby curry restaurant, and needless to say, your waiter had to witness some bickering over who would pay the check.

“Please help me out with this,” you pleaded, pulling a pout with the unsuspecting waiter who certainly feels like he’s caught in a lover’s quarrel now. “He paid for our train tickets, it’s only right that I pay for the meal.”

“Erm—”

“She’s been cooking all of the meals for the last few days, as well as for the food on the train, so I should be the one to pay.”

“You’re letting me stay at your apartment, of course I’m going to help cook, and I like cooking!”

“But still—”

In Keiji’s moment of argument, you snatch the ticket and slam it into the waiter’s hand with your credit card. “Take it. Take it and run.”

“(Y/n)—”

“I’m just going to listen to the lady this time, I’ll be right back,” the waiter says nervously before scurrying off, and you shoot Keiji a victorious look. He only shakes his head in response, but more amused than anything at your antics.

“You can’t win all the time,” he warns.

“I will most certainly try.”

-

Keiji certainly does try and wins when it comes to dinner, Koutaro watching with a grin on his face as you protest and whine when their waitress walks away with Keiji’s card in hand. Next to him, Atsumu murmurs, “Are they dating?”

“Nah, she’s dating another guy.”

“So what’s happenin’ here? Why’s she stayin’ with him again?”

“We don’t know the details – sounds like there was a falling out with her boyfriend and she showed up in Tokyo, called Akaashi unexpectedly. They’re old family friends, grew up living down the street from each other.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Who knows?” Koutaro shrugs, denying the itch to text Testuro this second and ask for answers. You seem happier, however, genuinely listening to Shoyo’s animated storytelling of when he first practiced with the Fukurodani duo. Keiji chimes in from time to time, but otherwise staying silent and basking in the nostalgia. The team members sitting across from you find it difficult to not notice how often Keiji steals glances at you, who is none the wiser. There are a few times when Shoyo mentions a name you don’t quite remember, turning towards Keiji for answers. You don’t even have to say anything – one pair of furrowed eyebrows and he knows exactly what you’re asking about. Koutaro gathers that perhaps the last few days spent together have caused you two to fall in sync.

He wonders what Testuro would think about that.

-

“Come visit anytime you’re nearby!” Koutaro offers you with another tight squeeze, later releasing you to pull in Keiji for a more manly hug. The two of them knock fists together before Keiji guides you through the station with a hand on the small of your back, giving one last wave to the ace of the Black Jackals.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him once you’re seated in the train. Keiji has the window seat again. “It was nice seeing Bokuto-san again.”

“I’m glad this could cheer you up a bit, really.”

“It helped me a lot, more than you know.”

“That’s good to know.”

This time, you buy a couple of juice boxes from the cart and hand one over to Keiji, who gives you a teasing admonishing look. A glint in his eyes says that he’ll pay you back for this some day when you least expect it, and you won’t be able to do anything about it. As you quietly suck on the straw, you loosen the seatbelt around your waist and turn your whole body to face him, all while searching for the right words.

Keiji waits patiently, mirroring your movements to face most of his body towards you, only half his back resting on the back of his seat.

“Testuro told me he doesn’t love me anymore,” you quietly confess, peeking a look at your companion’s face to gauge his reaction. Keiji remains stoic, but you find it in yourself to continue.

“He sat me down after dinner about a week and a half ago, told me he couldn’t keep it in anymore. At first, he said a bunch of things about how I didn’t deserve to be strung along or left doubting myself – that it was all him and had nothing to do with me. And then he said he wasn’t in love with me anymore, but that I was still a really important person to him.”

Deep breaths.

“I didn’t know what to do, you know?” You ramble, meeting his gaze with wide, tired, frantic eyes. “What do you even do in that situation? And how am I not supposed to feel like it has something to do with me – like, am, am I not pretty enough now? Was the sex not good anymore? Did—did I change into someone that he couldn’t love? I just, I just couldn’t help but think it’s all my fault, that perhaps I changed into someone he couldn’t see the future with anymore. In some unknown time span, I went from being his everything to just…nothing.”

“You’re not ‘nothing’”, Keiji interjects. His eyes are hardened and dark again, much like when he asked you if Testuro had cheated on you the first night you arrived. You crack your best smile of gratitude, feeling the tears beginning to form.

“Perhaps you’re right – but you know what’s the worst part though? I shouldn’t even be mad at him,” you chuckle bitterly. “Immediately after that was dumped on me, he told me he would try to love me again, that he’d do his best because that’s how much I still mattered to him. I just needed to give him time, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong to force him. Whatever his reasons may be, I don’t want to force him to feel something for me again just for my happiness. Even then, I wouldn’t be 100% happy either, always worried that maybe he’d be faking his love for me, wondering when he’s gonna snap and call it all off. I might as well let him go now and revamp on my own, you know?”

Keiji keeps to himself and you can tell he’s trying to process your words. You didn’t mean to spill everything out on a bullet train of all places, but it just seemed like the right time after everything he’s done for you these last few days. Seeing Bokuto was another breath of fresh air that you didn’t realize you needed, and you would have to be completely oblivious to your environment to not notice the many questioning glances the ace had sent you throughout the day.

“I think you’re right in wanting to let him go – he shouldn’t feel like he has to try because of some obligation due to the bond you two have,” Keiji says carefully. “I’m sorry it happened though.”

“It’s nothing you could control, silly,” you let out a watery laugh, wiping tears away with the sleeve of your jacket. Keiji fishes out his handkerchief, gently swiping beneath your eyes. You can do nothing but sit there and wait for him to finish, feeling the care in each stroke against your skin. Never in a million years would you have predicted the two of you would be in this position, and part of it leaves you lightheaded. When he’s done, you open your eyes to meet his, though they flicker down to the silk cloth in his hands. That design…

“Is that the handkerchief I bought you as a souvenir from Kyoto?” You blurt out. Keiji looks at down at his hand and nearly curses at himself. For the first time in your life, you see him look somewhat sheepish and at loss for words.

“It came in handy,” he says fondly. “It’s really good quality, and I figured I’d keep it with me just in case. Thank you for this, again.”

“Well, you bought me that keychain from your senior class trip – it only seemed right that I give something in return.”

Keiji lets out a small, teasing scoff, deciding to remain silent for the time-being. It’s after a couple of minutes does he choose to speak up.

“You’re justified in how you felt, (y/n). I don’t know what it’s like to be in that situation, but I can only imagine how heartbroken you must have been. You’ve always given 120% to the important people in your life – I’ve seen it. So if you wanted to run away for a little bit for some space and time to think, that’s completely understandable. You’re allowed to be angry and bitter, but there is one thing I’d rather you not feel.”

“What would that be?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Keiji leans the side of his head against the headrest, staring at you with a gentile fondness that you also hadn’t seen directed towards you before. “I don’t want you feeling insecure about yourself. You’re a wonderful person, (y/n), and just because Kuroo-san doesn’t love you anymore, it doesn’t mean you’ve become any less than that. He just might’ve not been the right person. I can guarantee there’s at least one person out there who will love you until the day you die.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“I most definitely can,” Keiji challenges firmly, leaving very little room for argument.

“For a man who hasn’t dated, you’re definitely a bit of a hopeless romantic,” you laugh, ignoring Keiji’s eyeroll.

Honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

You doze off in the Uber back to his apartment building, and even when he gently shakes you, you’re still incredibly groggy. Keiji has to practically catch you when you lose your footing, apologies spilling in slurred words from your lips. At this rate, one of you is going to get hurt on the way to his unit, and he’d rather have it not be you. Luckily, he’s not carrying much and makes the executive decision to crouch in front of you.

“Keiji…?” You murmur, trying to put together the pieces in your exhausted brain.

He holds his arms out behind him. “Come on, I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the unit.”

“But…”

“The sooner you get on, the sooner we can get home and sleep.”

With no energy left in you to deny him, you climb onto his back as carefully as you can, wrapping your limbs around his neck and waist as his arms latch around the backs of your knees. Keiji hoists you up, shifting your body slightly to center your weight, and begins the trek. He nods at the security guards before angling his head to face yours. You’ve pretty much passed out again, but he needs you to do three more things.

“Can you punch in the passcode for me?” He tells you the numbers slowly, making sure you’re inputting them correctly. Keiji asks a similar question when they get into the elevator, and one last task when they reach his door.

“You did such a good job,” he praises you, the warmth in his tone washing over you like freshly dried sheets. Keiji sits on the edge of his bed and lets you fall back into his comforter, laughing to himself when you curl up on your side without a care left in the world.

“Hey,” he calls for you attention and holds onto your hands before pulling you up. Your hair is mussed and he attempts to fix it while coaxing you to properly get ready for bed. “You’re gonna need to take off your jacket before you go to bed – I don’t mind if you sleep here in your jeans, but it won’t be comfortable if you keep your jacket on.”

You grumble something unintelligible but start removing your arms from the sleeves. Keiji nearly coos, folding your jacket over the seat in front of his desk before returning to you. Somehow, you’re still sitting upright, and he kneels in front of you so he can maintain eye contact to keep you awake. “You’re doing great. Now do you want to brush your teeth?”

At first you shake your head, but then pause, and nod instead. “Okay, stay awake for me, all right? I’ll be right back.”

True to his word, Keiji comes back promptly with your toothbrush already damp and holding a dollop of toothpaste, placing it correctly in your hand. You have enough muscle memory left to aim for your mouth, languidly stroking the bristles against your teeth. Keiji joins in, accompanying you until you’re ready to spit out the toothpaste. He lets you lean into him as he half-carries you into the bathroom, holding your hair back as you rinse your mouth and wash away any excess toothpaste. You sit on the toilet lid still half-asleep as you wait for him, somewhat expecting him to help you back into bed at this point.

“Good job, now you can go to sleep,” Keiji murmurs, once again supporting your weight on the journey back to his room. He first flips the comforter and sheets away so they can cover you once you’re in bed, again tucking you in properly. “Goodnight,” he whispers before moving to grab a change of clothes, but a pull on his sleeve stops him. He turns back to look at you, noticing how much you’re struggling to stay awake.

Your arms pull out from underneath the covers and shakily reach for his face. Completely unsure of what to do, Keiji stays still and waits with bated breath. Your fingers grasp the arms of his glasses, sliding them off the bridge of his nose and folding them at the hinges. They gently place it by your phone on his nightstand, a smile creeping onto your face as you snuggle back into the sheets. “You can’t sleep with your glasses on, silly,” you slur.

That’s the last thing you say before you’re out like a light.

Keiji doesn’t know how long he stands there, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. All he knows is that the moonlight spilling from his window makes you seem surreal. He wonders if you’re truly, actually here in his bed, and just did something as trivial as taking off his glasses for him. But that gesture alone sends his heart into overdrive, remembering the care you put in to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally break them with your sleep-addled clumsiness.

He ponders on it for the next few minutes until he’s once again laid down on the futon, throw blanket strewn across his body, and eager to follow you into the dreamworld.  

[xhardheadsxvxheartsleevesx]

[redheadedpineapple]

televised ch. 1: anticipation

Day 20: Ghost Akaashi Keiji GN!Reader reader can play instruments, akaashi dies, depicts it but not in much detail, a tinsie bit of blood, supernatural stuffs

masterlist | next

in which an overworked akaashi learns to take it slow with a still-alive reader

__

Akaashi Keiji died in his own home at age 23, 3 years ago. He was far too young and far too overworked for a selfless, handsome man with a decent income. After a long, exhausting day of work where he stayed for an extra 4 hours, he forgot to lock the front door. Vigilant, observant, keen Akaashi was far too tired to care.

Responsible Akaashi knew he needed to take a shower and change out of his clothes, but he saw the piling laundry in the basket and decided that he would shower tomorrow.

Even being a light sleeper, he hardly noticed the sounds of rummaging in his home. His very own home, the property he’d already nearly paid off so soon. Once his final payment was made, he promised himself he’d take it easier.

Tired Akaashi did not ignore the sound of shattering dishes; his subconscious couldn’t let him dismiss it like he did the rummaging. Foggy eyes checked the alarm clock, but the red blinking 02:27 did not register with his half asleep mind. It was more out of habit than anything. He hardly picked his feet off the ground enough, shuffling across his room and down the stairs.

At the third step from the bottom, Akaashi rubbed his eyes and squinted through the darkness. The living room was empty, but not in the state he left it. The kotatsu table was flipped over, and there were 2 black, empty, duffle bags. Hushed whispers and murmurs brought his attention to the kitchen.

Before he had the chance to do anything---had the chance to call the police or tell them to get out or take even one more step---he was thrown to the floor by a heavy sweep of a crowbar. A big man with a beer belly and a long beard stiffly poking out of his ski mask looked down at his cowering form from five steps up. Four steps. Three. Until he stood just above his sorry body. With both hands gripped tight around the handle, the man lifted the crowbar above his head.

Even with his spinning vision and aching brain, he knew to try and get away. He turned to his side and stretched out his arm in a feeble attempt to crawl away. Maybe it was a bad idea, because just as he pushed himself a bit forward, the metal crushed his upper back, just to the left of his spine. A gargled groan was pushed from his throat. His arm trembled, shoulder aching and jolting with pain. He could feel blood trickle out from his temple, where he’d been hit already.

A whispered chant of pleas begged the men to let him go, swears he wouldn't tell and promises he’d give them money, but it all came out as jumbled sobs. When the weight on his back lifted, he was both relieved and terrified. Choking out pained weeps is all he could manage, the daunting fear of the metal colliding with his body again clouding his mind.

When it finally did, he only had a few moments to care about the burning agony in his skull before he didn’t even have the ability to care. Even with his heart pumping desperately to keep his brain capable, it couldn’t do enough before a knife was sunk into it, snaring any last bits of hope he might’ve had.

Akaashi rolled over and sat up, refreshed and ache free. Even the soreness from working long hours with poor posture and stressing for days straight was gone. Everything was really bright, and he had trouble adjusting to the blinding lights. As he picked himself off the floor, he stretched out of habit and blinked a few long times to get used to the light.

He looked around at his trashed living room, and he sighed. Please, please please please…

Behind him on the floor was his own body, face down and still bleeding. If it wasn’t for the handle of the knife stuck out from the back and profuse bleeding, one might’ve thought it was just a slip down the stairs. He thought he looked sad and pathetic; an overworked manga editor outstretched on the floor with blood pooled around him, flies buzzing around. It was dizzying white noise as he stared at his dead body, shakily bending down to his own self.

With his dead body’s face turned slightly, he could see the heavy bags beneath his eyes. He wondered if he had them too, then looking down at the thought to see if he even had a body. He did; he could see his own hands that responded at his will, fingers curling and stretching as he wished. Behind his nimble fingers was his dead body, and some twisted curiosity in him told him to reach out to it, but he winced and sighed.

Akaashi stood and wandered up the stairs and into his room. It was messy, and he regretted not cleaning it sooner. If he thought about it, he’d realise he regretted a lot of things, but that was a pondering for later. Maybe he’d think about it when he had nothing else to think about in his sad, lonely death.

Fifteen minutes of staring at his belongings was more than enough. He began to feel the room getting bigger and the ever looming weight of regret choking him. and he made his way back downstairs, grimacing at the sight of his dead body at the bottom.

He ignored it and trudged towards the kitchen. Glass shards and dust sparkled across the tile floor, glittering in the morning sunlight. If he could, he would’ve started crying, but he couldn’t. With every bit of forced trembled lips and tightening of his chest came a wave of disappointment and embarrassment.

Akaashi sat on the couch for the most part; it was one of the few items he purchased to make his home feel home-y. He didn’t decorate much or even get a television. Instead, he kept to his purchases to a minimum and only got what he deemed necessary.

He sat there with his knees to his chest as the police came and as the investigators filed in and out. When the house was empty, he regretted not having purchased a TV. It was so quiet. Painfully quiet. It didn’t bother him before; he could sit in the silence for hours, sipping on tea or reading or working. But then, he had a purpose. He knew he had something to do. Now, it was nothing. Nothing to look forward to. He couldn’t even dread going to work.

And he wondered what happened to the ones who murdered him. He wanted the relief of knowing that at least some justice was served. Wanted to know what type of people he was killed by, what they’d say in defense. Isolation was his only thing he got.

Even as he tried to look forward to seeing other human beings, it wasn’t the same. It was just looking at shells of people without being able to interact with them. What’s the point of being with other human beings when it means nothing that you’re even there?

Three years of loneliness was all he had to bear before you moved in. He recognised you as you came in and out of the house over and over, previewing it before signing the documents. He didn’t take much interest in you, too wrapped up in himself. At least, he didn’t care much until the soft tune of music pulled his attention.

In his life---his sad, short life he learned to abhor---he never paid much mind to music. He lived too fast to care or bother with music. Maybe he’d put some on in the background, but he never really listened to it.

Upstairs, where his work room used to be just next to his bedroom, you sat with perfect posture at the keyboard. It was no grand piano, but it sounded beautiful. It was even more special as he watched your half lidded eyes scan the keys and your careful, yet relaxed and graceful fingers glide across the keys.

He never believed in love at first sight, and he still doesn’t, but he had to admit he’d never been so captivated by a human being as he had been by you.

𝄥𝄞────────── 𝄇

You didn’t care much for superstitions. It was fun to poke about with though, look into what other people believe and look at everything there is to know about it, even if you don’t believe in everything you come across. You liked to learn, liked to say ‘fuck it’ and go with what you wanted to. And it seemed like you learned to choose to want to do mundane tasks.

Akaashi noticed that. He noticed how you woke up like it was a blessing, not a chore. He watched how you drank your morning coffee slowly and enjoyed every sip. You didn’t just drink it because it was there and it was routine, you just enjoyed the beverage. He was jealous he didn’t live like that when he was alive. It was like you knew he was there, like you knew how lucky you were compared to him, learning from his depressing life. He shook his head. He needed to pull his mind out of the depths of self pity.

During the hours you were gone, Akaashi Keiji sat in front of your keyboard and tried to play. He couldn’t interact much---it took a lot of his energy to really make any effect on the world around him---but he practiced while it was off, finding enough joy in the quiet clicks of the keys. He imagined he played a rather distasteful tune, but he could pretend otherwise.

When you were home, he liked to watch what you were doing. Usually, he liked his alone time, but he had enough while you were away. So he followed you like a shadow, enjoying the way you lived life. It was freeing.

As the weeks passed, loneliness swelled in his chest and he wondered if he could interact with you. Could he talk? He felt embarrassed to even try. Instead, he pushed his boundaries more and more, making his presence near palpable.

Until the boundaries are crossed. It’s your off day, and you’re picking up the cello for the first time in a while. It’s cathartic, pulling and pushing the bow against the strings as deep, soothing notes resonate in the house. Akaashi is surprised to hear the sound, curiosity drawn from the television you left on, to the music you were creating upstairs.

One slow step at a time, he makes his way up the stairs and into your little music room. The door is nearly closed, and he pushes it open with a small creak. It was more than enough to draw your attention from your playing.

Your eyes dart up, and for a split second, you make eye contact. Stormy, sea green eyes stare back at you for a brief moment. He runs, sprinting faster than he ever thought he could in life.

Rushing to set your cello and bow down, you hurry downstairs to follow the man. “Wait! Hello?”

Maybe you should just call the cops, panic and fear the fact that someone’s broken into your house. But you can’t manage to find it in your heart when the intruder looks like the dead man who lived in your house prior and when your mind is infested with the thousands of ghost stories and tales of the supernatural.

Grabbing corners and turning as quickly as you can, you try to find the man you swear you saw.

“Akaashi Keiji? Hello? Uh, if you’re here in this room with me give me a sign? Er, hello?”

Disappointed, your shoulders slump.

“I’m not going insane right?”

No answer.

Maybe you are.

You catch a glimpse of fabric in a doorway, and you chase after it. “Hello?-”

You nearly fall backwards at the sight of the man standing in front of you. He opens his mouth, licks his lips, then closes it again. Something must be very interesting on the floor, his eyes glued to it just as much yours are stuck on him.

“Akaashi Keiji. That’s your name, right?”

He nods.

“Uhm… you’re, you’re uh. Here. But you’re, ah. Oh god. Holy shit.”

He wishes he has an explanation for you. Like: yeah, he’s here, and also here’s an encyclopaedia’s worth of information on how dead people work and a whole lecture about why he’s there. But he didn’t even know for himself.

You reach out to him, offering to shake hands. You want to tackle him and try and convince yourself you’re crazy for not calling the cops, but you can’t find the energy.

Staring with all your focus, you watch your hand as his comes into view, stretching to meet you halfway. You surely can’t find the energy to call anyone when you watch his hand pass right through yours, slipping away.

When you flick your head up, he’s gone, and you stand alone in your kitchen with your arm stretched out to no one.

Akaashi watches you stare straight through him and walk away with a thousand thoughts on your mind. For the first time since he died, Akaashi Keiji feels the urge and excitement of anticipation for the future.

[catypus]

Okay I hope this isn't bothering you but I've been obsessed with this for a while now- akaashi x reader but she's dying young and she's never seen the snow and wanted to see the world and Akaashi being the compassionate person he is, he plans to take her traveling and to show her all the seasons in other places before she can't anymore-🥺😭 idk ive been obsessed with this idea since FOREVER 🥺👉👈

a | n : aww it’ll never be a bother!! thank you for sending in your request and waiting, we were really busy at that time but hope you like it <3

pairings: akaashi x dying!reader

genre: angsty huhu :”)))

warnings: implied death

© all content belongs to catypus 2020. do not modify or repost.

the four phases of grief (through the seasons)

when it’s you and me, it feels like nothing can tear us down; nothing can tear us apart

  - phase I; shock and numbness -

Time becomes a finite measure only when your days are set.

Others at your age are going out, exploring their futures, just setting foot into an unknown world and you? Get the better half of 1 year thrown at your feet and told, “here make what you will of it”

But how can you?

The words of the doctor echoes in your head, rattling your thoughts and making them dance about until nothing is coherent anymore.

It feels empty.

Like everything has lost its colour, its flavour.

But when he hugs you,

when he lets you cry it out on his shoulder,

when he cups your face and leaves a sweet kiss on your lips and whispers to you,

“my love, I'm here, I'll give you the best life”,

you can’t help but feel a miniscule tinge better.

That the love of your life, will remain a constant until the very end.

akaashi keiji, you’re one hell of a guy

The next day, he springs a surprise trip to Greece.

You could hardly believe the words as they left his lips.

“pack what you need, we leave at the end of the week”

“I’ve already called ahead to your work, you don’t have to worry about that”

And that’s how a week later you found yourselves on the windswept limestone cliffs of Santorini, gazing upon the tops of the notable blue and white architecture.

In the midst of the white-washed buildings, casted golden by the setting sun, Keiji tightens his grip on your hand.

A silent promise.

One that you treasure closest to your heart as the sun disappears beneath the horizon, bringing the day to a close.

 at the end, doesn’t everyone just want closure ?

 - phase ii; yearning and searching -

It's that time of the year where everything starts shriveling up and dying as the temperature takes a dip for the lower end of the thermostat.

And before you know it, you too will shrivel up and die

it’s a never leaving trail of negativity; one that only festers and broils as the autumn leaves scatter at the touch of the cold breeze.

That day, Keiji brings home a new beanie and shoves it snugly over your head, tightly bundling your hair until it frays out. He lets out a low chuckle.

You pout at him, attempting to uncover your eyes so you can see him properly and get your hair in place, when all you see are two plane tickets to Ontario.

He smiles softly at you, watching at your expression.

You meet his gaze quietly, staring into his eyes.

His eyes that hold hope for you.

You both know by now that the prospect of extending your deadline is out of the question. You’ve taken more sick days and the monthly reviews have slowly transitioned into fortnightly ones.

Yet he holds so much emotion for you, so many wishes that you will be happy, with him. Even until the very end.

You grasp his hand, in which he holds the tickets.

“when do we leave?”

The mist rising from the falls breaks the sunlight and forms a slender arc of a rainbow above the crest of the waterfall.

Against the backdrop of the hues of orange, red and yellow, the colours of autumn have never looked more stunning.

The two of you stand there, at the outlook over the edge of the falls, watching the miniscule silhouettes of other tourists on board the boats as they view Niagara Falls from a different perspective.

Maybe it’s about the perspective.

Maybe it’s not that you have less than a year left.

Maybe it’s that you have the rest of the year to love Keiji.

That you have the rest of the year to get your forever with him.

As you link hands and slowly tread through the park, leaves crunching at your feet, he suddenly stops.

“my love, can i get a picture of you?”

As much as he’d never forget your smile, he thought to himself, if he could capture even a shred of your beauty, he’d be forever thankful.

As you stood there, amidst the falling leaves, adjusting your beanie, he thinks you’ve never looked more gorgeous.

 and as we stand here together, in this instant, it’s as if time is standing still, bearing witness to our love

 - phase iii; disorganisation and despair -

 The beauty of a small island in the middle of winter, covered by blankets of glistening white snow.

A fleeting moment, where the frosty wind nips at your cheeks as the ferry slows to a halt, docking at the jetty.

Clasping your gloved hand in his, he gently leads the way, weaving through the crowd.

As you set foot on the ground and take in the view, you realise that no image on google can compare to seeing it in real life.

In days gone by, you fawned over the picturesque landscape and imagery of Nami Island in South Korea.

Especially in the heart of winter, where many others have taken their own recreations of photos out of a K-drama.

“keiji, baby look- “,

As you would show him a sample image of a wedding photoshoot, the couple staring lovingly in each other’s eyes with the tall Maple trees bearing witness to their love.

The same tall Maple trees that you and him now stand before.

In the subtle shadows, casted by the barren trees, he graces your lips with a kiss.

Which turned into another.

And another.

Before he pulls back slightly, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed, just basking in each other’s company.

Softly swaying with the cold wind, he pulls something out of his pocket.

That in which he links around your neck.

When you lean back and look down at your collar, there sits a simple but elegant rose gold chain, to which a pendant is attached to.

And on the pendant, is your anniversary date.

The day that you said yes to being his best friend, his confidante, the love of his life.

Suddenly, you feel very warm.

Your face heats up and tears fall from your eyes before you even notice it.

“keiji, I’m sorry.”

“what for, baby?”

“i’m sorry for whatever’s going to happen after.”

 fate fortold that we would meet, so now my love, what’s the rush?

 - phase iv; reorganisation and recovery -

 The cold winds have blown, now the warm days are returning.

Looking out the window, the green fields rush past as the Shinkansen speedily heads for Sapporo.

Clenching your fingers tighter, you look down at where Keiji’s fingers hold on to yours just as tightly.

One last time.

Slowly but surely, strolling down the pathway, watching as high school couples bask in the bright glow of the pink hues of this season.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that you and Keiji linked arms and sat under the cherry blossoms.

Youth.

As you both sat on the bench, his arms tightly wound across your shoulder, he recalls how all those years ago, as he wiped the corner of your mouth of cream from the daifuku you were eating, he first told you those three words.

“i love you.”

“until forever and the day after that”

He pulls out his phone, your ever-beautiful face smiling back at him from under those autumn leaves in Canada.

The bench beside him has never felt emptier as he places one hand over his chest, the cold metal of the pendant pressing painfully against his heart.

It’s been a year.

A flower bud drops on his shoulder.

He remembers your expressions, the amazement you gave the first time you saw him do a snow angel, the contentment when he had kissed you under the maple trees. The love in your eyes that never wavered a single time.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, before shakily letting it out.

I miss you.

 even when the seasons change, our love will forever remain the same.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//chocolate mornings. akaashi keiji//

Warnings: Your heart may explode from too much fluff

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: Part 2 because my Wattpad readers were on the verge of murdering me! I would d i e for this family dynamic~ 

(Single Parent!Doctor!Akaashi x Reader)

*Part 2 of Chocolate Impressions.  Read Part 1 HERE*

It was a picture perfect scene: a slumbering home, the only source of light coming from the moon as its rays filtered in through the windows.  Katashi was fast asleep in his bed, a stuffed owl held tightly in his arms, tucked in beneath a thick layer of blankets, the love of a father’s kiss still lingering on his forehead.  You had been pulled into Akaashi’s chest the minute the two of you had sank into the soft embrace of his mattress.  Soft words were shared about each other’s day, plans for tomorrow, plans for the distant future.  Short, breathy laughs in an attempt to stay quiet for Katashi’s sake were the only response to small quips and silly stories.  Warm kisses and cool wandering touches were soon replaced by quiet “I love you”s and the small sounds of Akaashi’s little snores against your skin.  Wrapped in his warm embrace, a final kiss was placed against his skin before allowing yourself to fall victim to sleep’s grasp.  

The all too familiar tune singing loudly from Akaashi’s bedside table was the sour note that ended it all.  You jolted up, obviously more distraught by the sudden noise than your boyfriend was as he simply buried his head under his pillow with a quiet “No.”

“Keiji, your phone,” you mutter, shaking his shoulder, trying to keep him from falling back asleep.

“I don’t care.”

You reach over him to grab his phone from the table to check the caller ID.  Exactly who you expected.  “It’s the hospital.”

“I don’t care.”

“Keiji, come on.”  You pull the pillow away from him and a heavy groan is the only response as he takes the phone from your hand.

“I’m not on call,” he states plainly, avoiding any sort of pleasantries. You can hear the person on the other end of the line talking rapidly, multiple apologies being uttered in quick succession, and Akaashi can only sigh as he sits up and swings his legs off the edge of the bed.  “What’s the point in telling me that I’m off if you’re just going to wake me up anyway?  Where’s Ohashi?  Or Ichirou?”  He runs his hand through his bedridden curls and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  “I have my son this week.  You know that. . . What?  It’s two in the morning.  I am not waking him up to drag him to a hospital for who knows how many hours. . . No.  No. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”  Akaashi slowly gets up from the bed, stumbling slightly as the fatigue hasn’t quite left his body yet.  “Yes.  I’m coming.  I’ll be there soon.”  He ends the call and tosses his phone on the bed, his form radiating pure annoyance.  “Absolutely ridiculous,” he grumbles, shoving his feet into a pair of slippers to save himself from the chilly hardwood floor.  “I guess I need to call Akiyo and see if she can take care of Katashi until I’m done.”

“Why?  It’s not like you’re going to be leaving him alone.”

“Are you sure?  You don’t have to do this.”

You laugh a little, getting up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck.  “But, I want to.”

He nuzzled his face in your neck, letting his black curls tickle your skin.  “You’re going to be such a good step-mom to him someday.”

“I hope so.  But, come on.  You need to get ready.  You have lives to save.”  He offers a quiet whine as you pull away from him in order to put on your own slippers.  “I’ll get your clothes and get some coffee going, okay?”

Akaashi nods, slumping off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and attempt to wake himself up with a quick cold shower.  You padded softly towards the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before going to the laundry room to grab a fresh pair of scrubs from the dryer.  Back in the bedroom, you rummaged through his drawers to find him clean boxers and a pair of socks.

A swift knock to the bathroom door is all it takes for Akaashi to pull the door open.  He’s holding a towel around his waist as his other hand vigorously tries to towel dry his hair.  A soft grin takes over his features as you set his clothes down on the counter.  “Thank you, princess,” he says, placing a short kiss on your cheek.

“You’re welcome, Keij.  Coffee should be done in a few minutes.  Do you want to eat anything before you go?”

“Uh . . . Can you throw a granola bar or something in my bag?  I don’t know if I have time to stay and eat.”

You nod and leave him to get dressed in order to go pack his work bag with snacks for his drive.  You add a few granola bars and a package of fruit snacks to a Ziploc bag, rummaging through the drawers to find the sticky notes.  Snacks for my snacc lol love you - Y/N.  You put the sticky note in the bag to make sure it didn’t get lost before placing his snacks in his work bag. 

You had just gotten his thermos out of the cabinet as Akaashi came sliding into the kitchen, sock-clad feet propelling him across the tiles.  Arms immediately wrap around your waist and a happy hum filters into your ear.  “I don’t think you’ve ever been this happy to go in to work. What's wrong with you?” you laugh, reaching up to play with his hair.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?” You ask, filling the thermos with the freshly brewed coffee, adding a spoon and half of sugar, just how he likes it.  

“About how much I like this.  Waking up with you.  Getting ready with you.  I’d be okay with always going in in the middle of the night if it meant more of this.”  He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, never wanting this moment to end.

“I think the lack of sleep is making you delirious.  You hate having to go in.”  You turn around in his embrace.  “But, I like this too.”  You place a soft kiss on his lips, eagerly returned by your boyfriend.  Pulling away, you place a hand on his chest.  “You really do need to go though, Keiji.”

“Yeah, I know.”  He begrudgingly lets you go so he can go put his shoes on.  You follow him to the door, his coffee and bag in your hands, his coat draped over your arm.  He stands up, taking his things from you and grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door.  “I should be back by the time you and Katashi wake up.  I’ll see you soon,” Akaashi says, a quick kiss to your forehead before he rushes out the door.  

You turn to go back to bed after watching him back out of the driveway, flipping off any lights that were left on during the franticness of this early morning.  Between the thick blankets and what little warmth remained on Akaashi’s side of the bed, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to start to weigh your eyelids down.  

Fresh sunlight and the sounds of something clattering to the ground brought you quickly from your deep slumber.  A sigh left your lips as your eyes fell to the empty spot on the bed next to you, sheets still crumpled from his early start.  You get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen only to stop completely in your tracks to fully take in the scene in front of you.

Katashi was perched on top of one of the dining room chairs so he could get a better look into the kitchen cabinets.  A frying pan had been tossed to the ground, likely the source of noise that had yanked you from sleep’s loving embrace.  “Katashi, what are you doing?” You ask slowly.

“Making pancakes,” he stated plainly as if the answer should’ve been obvious to you.

“Why?”

“Because Dad and I always have pancakes for breakfast.  But, he’s at work, so I was going to make them so they’d be ready when he got back.”  Katashi jumped down from the chair, the box of pancake mix in his hands.  

You pick up the pan and bowl from the floor, setting them on the counter before taking the mix and putting it back in the cabinet.  Taking in his defeated expression, you give him a warm smile.  “Why don’t we make your dad some special pancakes?”

“Special pancakes?”

“Yeah.  Like, not from a box.  We’ll make them from scratch.”

“We can do that?”

“Yes,” you laugh, grabbing the needed ingredients.  “Do you like chocolate chips in yours?”

“Yeah, but Dad doesn’t.”

“I forgot he was weird and didn’t like chocolate chip pancakes.”  You scrunch up your features, making Katashi laugh.  “Okay, I need a scoop and a half of flour,” you say, handing the boy the measuring cup before busying yourself with measuring out the other dry ingredients.  

Katashi dumps a heaping scoop in the bowl, creating puffs of flour, dusting his dark hair.  He giggles happily, staring at you with those same sleepy eyes that his father had.  You never took the time to really look at his son, a near perfect carbon copy of the man that you’d fallen in love with.  It almost looked like someone had plucked Akaashi from his baby photos and stuck him in front of you.  “Why are you staring at me?”

“You just look so much like your dad,” you sigh, turning back to finish adding ingredients to the batter.

“That’s what Gran says too.”  Katashi slides the bowl over to himself, taking the spoon and stirring everything together.  “She’s always showing me pictures of Dad when he was my age.  It’s so boring,” he whined.

“It does get a little old, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve seen them too?”

“So many times,” you laugh.  “The first time I ever met your gran, I thought we were going to be there all night.  She just kept pulling out photo album after photo album.  I didn’t think she was ever going to stop.”

“What’d you do?”

“Your dad was super embarrassed and wanted it to end just as much as I did.  I think he made some excuse about having work the next day when we all knew he didn’t.”

Katashi laughs, leaning into your side as you separate some batter out for Akaashi’s boring pancakes.  Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his arms wrap around your waist.  Your hand goes down to run your fingers through his curls, a small smile finding its home on your lips.  Any reservations you previously had about your relationship with Katashi and your role in his future were quickly erased.  It already felt like you had been a part of his life for years and you couldn’t have wished for a better start.  “Hey, hold out your hand,” you say, poking his cheek softly.

“What?  Why?”  He asks, looking up at you.

“Just do it.”

Katashi cautiously holds out the hand that wasn’t hugging your waist out towards you, bouncing in excitement as you shake some chocolate chips into his hand.  “Dad never lets me do this!”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”  You wink down at his smiling face and pop a few of the chocolate pieces in your own mouth, dumping what’s left in the batter.  

The sound of a car engine whirring and cutting out is the interruption to the perfect morning.  A loud beep as a door is locked has Katashi ripping away from you to greet his father at the door.  A tired smile complimented even more exhausted eyes as Akaashi knelt down to embrace his son.  “What smells so good?” You hear Akaashi ask as he stands up.

“Mom and I made pancakes!” Katashi exclaims, grabbing his dad’s hands and dragging him towards the kitchen.

“Mom?  Why is your mom here?”  Keiji stumbles into the kitchen behind his son, fully expecting to see his ex-wife sitting at the dining table with the glare that she always greeted him with nestled on her face.  But instead, he was greeted with your sleepy features as you set the table, divvying up steaming pancakes between the plates.  You had flour dusting the front of your t-shirt, a smile causing your eyes to crinkle when you looked up and saw him in the doorway.  His confusion settled into a softer expression as he stared at the perfect morning unfolding in front of him.  Absolutely beautiful.

“Huh?”  Katashi asks, looking up at Akaashi.  “Oh.  Sorry, I meant Y/N.”  The boy just shrugged, letting go of Akaashi and sitting down in front of one of the plates, digging into the pile of pancakes that you had placed onto his plate.

Akaashi set his things down and let you wrap your arms around him.  A short peck on the lips and sleepy smiles were exchanged.  “How was everything?” You ask, running a gentle thumb over the small purple bruises on his cheeks, a side effect of the long hours of his surgical mask digging into his face.

“Six hours in the OR for an emergency CABG," he sighed, his hands trailing along your sides. 

"Six hours? Isn't that a little long?"

"Yeah.  It was a pretty nasty blockage, but it's bypassed and he should be back on his feet in a few days."

"And that's why you're the best," you say, a soft smile giving him any reassurance he could've possibly needed. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving. My 'snacks for my snacc' wore off quite a while ago," he teased, poking your sides, making you blush as you squirm away from him. He laughed, letting you pull him over to the table to join Katashi for pancakes.  "Alright, Katashi. Who's pancakes are better? Mine," Akaashi pauses, giving his son an exaggerated nod. "Or Y/N's?" He shakes his head, making a disgusted face which is quickly replaced by a look of hurt as you smack his thigh.

Katashi giggles, shoving the last bit of pancake in his mouth.  "Y/N's, for sure.  She should come over every time I'm here!" He finished his glass of orange juice and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.  "May I be excused?" 

"Depends. How do you spell 'because?'" Akaashi asks, not looking up from his plate.

Katashi groaned, slinking down in his chair. "That's not fair.  You know I'm not good at that one! Pick something else!"

"Okay. Spell 'choledocholithiasis.'" Akaashi smirks, now looking at the shock on his son's face.  "What? You wanted a different word!"

"Something I would know!"

"Your options are 'because' or 'choledocholithiasis.' I know what I'd pick," Akaashi shrugs, take a bite of his pancakes. 

"Okay, Doc, we get it. You know how to spell coal-docter-antithesis," you say, rolling your eyes, Katashi laughing as you poke fun at his father.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Y/N.  Katashi, how about 'today?'"

"Ooh! I know that one! T-o-d-a-y!"

"Very good. You're excused."

"Yes!" Katashi jumps up from his seat, setting his plate in the sink. "Thank you for breakfast!" He gave you and Akaashi quick hugs before running off to his room.

"You make him spell to leave the table?"

Akaashi shrugs. "Not always. Sometimes he has to do an easy math problem.  It may seem a little . . . Much, but it helps him retain what he learns." 

"Well, I think it's nice that you care so much about his school work," you say, rubbing his shoulder as you sit back in your chair.

"Thank you." He smiled, reaching for your hand.  

His thumb runs over your knuckles, a shaky inhale catching your attention. "You tired?"

"Yeah. It's been a long morning,” he sighs, running his free hand through his messy hair.

"Go back to bed, Keiji.  You need some rest."

He nodded, stifling a yawn, but rather than getting up to heed your advice, Akaashi takes a deep breath, turning in his seat to face you. "But, not right now.  I want to talk to you about something."

Akaashi watches as your eyes widen slightly, feeling your hand start to shake a little as you’re suddenly caught off guard.  "Is this about Katashi liking my pancakes better? He just wanted-" The sound of his laughter cuts you off.

"No. This isn't about that.”  He takes a moment in an attempt to compose himself, a few stray chuckles escaping as he tries to continue. “I was thinking about this morning.  The whole time I was at work, it was all I could think about.  Well, not all I could think about, but you know what I mean. I just- maybe it's silly, but I genuinely enjoy having you there with me every time I get called in.  Before, I always had to do it all by myself, which is fine, of course. I don't expect you to get up and help me, but you do, and I want more of that and I want more of this,” he says, giving your hand a light squeeze.  “Seeing you this morning, I realized just how happy I am when you're here. And Katashi, he really likes you.  I don't know if you heard, but he called you 'mom' earlier and-" Akaashi pauses, the wide smile on his face saying everything for him. He was completely exhausted, the lack of sleep tearing down his normal quiet demeanor, letting all of his emotions flow from his mouth like a waterfall.  

"I love you and I don't think I could ever say it enough for you to know just how much I do." He stopped again, patting his pockets with his hands. "Hang on." He gets up and starts rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers.  "I know I put it in here somewhere. . . When did I buy this?" He pauses, holding up a small little kitchen timer that looked like a penguin.  He just shrugs, setting it down next to the stove.  “Did I really put it all the way back there?”  He grumbles, leaning over to get a better look into the back of the drawer.  “Oh, wait.  There it is!  Come here,” he says, taking something and hiding it in his hand.  He's practically bouncing like a little kid on a sugar high as he pulls you to stand with him in the middle of the kitchen floor.  "This isn't exactly how I planned on doing this and I get the middle of my kitchen isn't the most romantic place, but-" Akaashi’s quick words are cut off by your lips pressed against his, hands holding his face, the feeling of your body melding perfectly against his.  

"Keiji, it's okay," you whisper, a calm smile soothing his nerves.

"Thank you," he whispers; a second kiss, shorter, less intimate than the first, but still carrying the same amount of complete adoration for you.  Akaashi breaks away, kneeling down in front of you.  He holds a delicate ring in one hand, your hand with the other.  "I know this is probably not how you imagined this moment.  Honestly, it's not how I imagined it either, but," Akaashi takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes, the dark circles from lack of sleep more pronounced in the poor lighting.  "I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you, even if it is at stupid hours in the morning.  I want to come home to you making pancakes with our son. I want to talk about you to the others in the OR, but not just as my girlfriend, as my wife.  So, what I'm trying to say is that I love you and I love that in such a small amount of time, you've made my family become our family." He smiles, his sleepy eyes filled with nothing but love for you and everything the two of you had built together.

 "Will you marry me?"

[yacoka]

AMOR FATI

──⊱ aut simul stabunt aut simul cadent

character(s) — akaashi keiji

pairing — akaashi keiji x reader

genre — angst

warning(s) — blood, death, war, mortal wounds

word count — 1700+

beta(s) — @/doughnuts-5ever

Your first meeting was in the midst of battle, the scent of death heavy as red mist sprayed through the air, the sounds of men fighting and dying all around you. You were two soldiers on opposing sides, powerless pawns destined to die for your countries in a senseless war that had waged for years.

You had entered the army with no hope, only the desperation of keeping your family fed. There was no other way to earn money, not in a war-ravaged country barely surviving the failing economy while the rich hid in their castles built on the bodies of slaves. Your weak arms, arms that had never carried a sword before, now swung it robotically. It was an extension of your body, and you had long numbed yourself from the guilt and horror of taking another’s life. You did what you had to, for your family.

It was the same every day. Fight an already lost battle, get injured, get sent back to recover. Pain wasn’t a foreigner anymore, and you learned to tune out the sharp pain into a dull ache. Until him. You felt the it as the sword sliced through his neck, the death blow sending you reeling as you felt his life gushing out with the blood that leaked from his throat.

Terror and shock filled your veins, jolting you from the numb haze clouding your mind. Your hands scrabbled at your untouched throat, coming away dirty, but still blood-free. How can there be no blood? How can that be when you could feel it trickling out of the phantom gash, filling your lungs with its sticky, thin heat. It just didn’t make sense, how did it, how did it, how did it-

Your eyes met his, and the questions died out as you watched the life leave his eyes. A hollow resignation that faded into a look of nothing, and it burned into you as you choked on his blood. That was the first time you died together, in fear, in confusion, in relief.

The darkness seemed endless, and the solidity of the nothingness beneath your feet was disorienting. Every step was so, so heavy, and yet so, so light. You screamed, you cried as you begged whatever power there was to free you from this silent hell. Didn’t you suffer enough? Hasn't life taken too much from you already? Could they not spare you this small mercy of moving on?

You awoke days, weeks later, screaming as you struggled past the dead bodies piled upon you. This was no mercy, you screamed at the heavens, tears streaking through dirt caked upon your face. The only response that came after was a sharp, biting rainstorm that drenched you to the bone, filling you with a chill that lingered long after the storm had stopped.

It was a miracle, they said. A God-given gift to win the war, they proclaimed as they shoved you back into your suffocating armor, stuck a sword in your hand and tossed you back onto the frontlines. Every cut, every slash, you felt them just as strongly as you did years ago, when you were nothing more than a mere novice on the battlefield. And you embraced it, the only thing grounding you from the unsettling emptiness that lay within you.

And so you swung your sword like a dutiful little soldier, cutting down enemies and stealing their lives from them, tucking the memory of the light draining from their eyes at the back of your mind. Brown eyes, black eyes, green eyes, blue-

Gunmetal blue that stared right back at you, shining brightly beneath the grime upon his face. Those unnerving eyes that stared right past your freezing walls and into the dark crevices of your mind. You never broke your gaze once, not even as your swords clashed and you gained new wounds. Even as he laid the killing strike that sent the both of you to your knees, your hands clutching the sword stuck cleanly into your chest.

“Your name,” you gasped, forcing yourself to stay a little longer, blood spilling from your wounds, painting the ornate handle red.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he choked out, his previously calm eyes now panicked. His hands clutched at his chest, broken nails leaving a frenzied trail of red.

“Th-that’s a be-beautiful name, Akaashi Ke-keiji.” A weak smile rested upon your pained face as the darkness claimed you, his name lingering upon your lips.

The third time you met was surprisingly not amidst battle, but in the neutral ground where both sides had called a ceasefire to recover their dead. You had been lifting the body of your fellow fallen soldier, his face mutilated to the point of unrecognizability when Akaashi snuck up behind you, bending down in the guise of inspecting another fallen body near you.

“I didn’t catch your name the last time,” his voice was low, steady despite the horrors laid around you.

There’s a slight pause as you hesitate. Was it safe to give your name when you now knew neither of you could die? What if he used it against you? A glance at the man crouching down beside you had your name slipping out before you could stop it. It was only fair that he knew yours. After all, you had his name too.

He stood then, grunting slightly as he hefted the body across his shoulders, tilting dangerously close to you. “Why does it keep happening?”

You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you didn’t have the answer to that question. How could you explain why you two would always die together, and come back alive once more, just to repeat the vicious cycle? This was a question no mere mortal had the answer to, and you left him there, with a single word.

“Fate.”

You had begun to lose count of the number of times you had died and come back to life, the vicious cycle becoming a mundane routine to you now. And as you performed yet another deadly dance with Akaashi, you picked up from your last conversation, having been cut short by your deaths.

“So what did you want to be, before you got dragged into this war?” You panted, darting back as his sword swiped through the air, narrowly missing your stomach.

“A writer,” he replied, bringing his shield up to block your attack. There’s a resounding clang as your sword crashes against it, and you grunt as you pull back from him.

“I could see it,” you hummed, before letting out a short gasp of pain as his shield knocks into your face. There would be some ugly bruising later on, you think mournfully. “Leave the face out of this, pretty boy.”

“Sorry,” he jumped to avoid the swing you take at his ankles. “What about you?”

There’s a pause in the conversation even as you continue to parry. You never really thought about your dreams before, and the saddening realization deflates you a little. “I don’t know.” You admitted. “I never had any dreams, and I was raised to be a soldier.” You lunged at him, successfully sticking your blade into a chink in his armor.

Your heart twinged as you watched his face screw up in pain, and you fell to the ground with him. The pain may have been mirrored onto your own body, but the sight of his dying hurt more than any mortal wound ever could.

“See-you-next-time-I-guess,” he wheezed out, a bloodied hand reaching out to caress your face with a gentleness you had not yet seen from him. Smiling sadly, you covered his hand with yours, returning the sentiment and faded back into the darkness, awaiting your next encounter.

Somehow, through all the gore and death that hung between you, you had fallen in love with him, and him with you. The first confession escaped through his dying breaths, and you didn’t get the chance to return it until the next duel with a glittering smile and the agonizing knowledge that you wouldn’t be able to hold him in your arms, nor kiss him. Nor live a normal life with him.

A year of killing and watching each other die had passed, but the ache in your chest only grew every time you watched his figure walk up to yours. Every step he took is heavy, and his shoulders are slumped, weighed down by the impending death.

“Why do we keep doing this?” You cried out, tears streaming down your face as you defended yourself.

“Because it’s the only way we’d get to see each other,” came his steady reply, even as his eyes brimmed with tears filled with love and anger and regret. These were tears he’d never let fall, for to do so would mean giving up the tiny shred of hope he had left.

“What if we ran away?” Your voice is filled with desperation, your swings losing their determination.”

Akaashi pressed his lips together tightly, eyes flickering away from yours for a second, almost as if he was considering the possibility. But the words that follow shatter your foolish hope. “They’d only catch us and force us back into this, you know that.”

“But I hate this! I hate having to kill the man I love, over and over again, watching the life drain out of you as we die for a war that will never be won.” It doesn’t matter that the soldiers around you could hear your traitorous proclamations. You’ve been through too much, died too many times to care anymore.

“We don’t have a choice!” He roared back. His hard gaze softened. “I don’t mind dying, for a second with you is worth a thousand deaths.”

With a yell of frustration, you let your guard down and his sword, one that you’ve grown accustomed to over time, ran straight through you.

“See you next time,” you grinned weakly at his horrified face, blood dribbling down your chin.

“You’re an idiot,” he snarled back, wrapping his hand around yours and squeezing tightly. “I’m supposed to take the hits, not you.”

You shook your head at him, and with shaking hands, you yanked him to you, pressing your lips tightly to his. If you were to live a life of death and misery, you deserved to have at least this. This small piece of mercy in a merciless world.

“I can’t always be the reason why we die.” You whispered against his lips.

“And I can’t bear watching you die.”

[seokiloquy]

Lost In- What Word? Pt 2 - Akaashi Keiji

AU: Single Parent

Requested

Word Count: 2.7k+

Disclaimer: Fem! Reader, Time skip spoilers, just fluff

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

Another Saturday rolled around and the open field of the nearby park was close to empty. It was partially cloudy outside, letting the sun pour out periodically onto the grassy field. You kicked back, keeping a lackadaisical watch over your bags while trying not to fall asleep from the warm blanket that the sun gave you. The gentle heat that was settled into your stomach wrapped around your sides in a hug, it made it difficult to keep your eyes open and watch your son practice. It definitely didn’t help that in the moments when your eyes were open, your attention was mostly captured by the sturdy movements Akaashi made as he coached Naoko, and not Naoko himself.

This was one of those moments. Back facing you, the older man fell into a deep lunge, one leg stretching out further than the other. With his hands clasped together in an arrowhead shape and arms strengthened underneath his slim-fitting t-shirt, the ball fell right into the fleshy part of his forearm, bouncing high into the air with a satisfying smack. You quickly turned your gaze away toward the incoming dark clouds, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Nice spike, Naoko!” Akaashi encouraged.

You looked back to the rally that was taking place before you, smiling at Naoko’s large grin as he hit every ball with the near-perfect ability that had been developing over the past few weeks. Something hitting your cheek stopped you from spouting your own support for your boy. Looking up to the sky, your eye was assaulted by the same light sensation. Within seconds it began to pelt your skin harshly.

“Mama, it’s raining!” Naoko cheered, spinning with a large grin in his quickly soaking clothes.

You screeched at the feeling of cold water seep through your shirt to roll down your spine. Quickly, you grabbed the three bags off the ground, wrapping your arms as tightly around them as you could. From the corner of your eye, you could see Akaashi swipe a giggling Naoko off the lawn and point in the direction of the street. Naoko thrashed around happily in the older man’s arms.

The strong rain continued to stab into your skin as the three of you sprinted. Once at the dark-haired man’s car, he set Naoko down and began patting down at the non-existent pockets of his track shorts. “Keys,” he muttered repeatedly before spinning to pull his back out from your arms.

With the back door quickly swinging the door open, Akaashi lifted the young boy off the ground and pushed him into the back seats before helping you load the bags. The rain continued to pour down your back in small, cold waves. You shivered as the last bag was thrown in and the two of you began to round the sides of the car, hoping into the front seat.

Akaashi turned on the engine and cranked up the heat as you spun in your chair to try and dry off your son’s face, using your thumbs to wipe at his cheeks. “Keiji, do you have any— uh, clothes.. no, towels in here?” you asked.

He groaned, ruffling his hair to shake the water out. “Sadly no.”

A dissatisfied hum escaped you, as you spun back to face the front of the vehicle, listening to the rain as it bounced off the metal exterior. A roll of thunder echoed in the distance, soon followed by a flash of lighting. You sighed, “I guess we’re stuck here for a bit.”

Akaashi pulled the dar out of its lane, hand coming to rest behind your seat’s shoulder as he reversed. “I’ll drive you two home,” he said, smiling at Naoko as his eyes skimmed over the boy’s damp cheeks, “how are you doing bud, cold back there?”

Naoko hummed defiantly, shaking his head quickly, sending a few stray droplets of water Akaashi’s way. “Can we go play in the rain some more?”

You tried not to laugh.

Akaashi shook his head, finally pulling into the open lane, and faced the steering wheel. “Sorry kiddo, no can do.”

Akaashi felt a tingle tickle the back of his neck as he flipped through the storyboard sketches that Udai had prepared. The pages were messily put together and had misspelt notes covering the margins. Akaashi stared at a crude sketch of a newly introduced character on the page, trying not to laugh at the silly expression before flipping the sheet over.

"I think it looks good," he said, eyes skimming over the last page.

"Really? Not too bland? It is sort of a filler chapter," Udai yawned quietly as he splayed out on his chair as much as possible.

"I think you've included enough information that it isn't redundant."

"Wow. Thanks," the artist scoffed.

Early morning checks-ins, though required in the name of productivity, often left the undesirable feeling of doing a whole day's work in just under an hour. So when Akaashi stepped out of the small meeting space and saw that the sun was still high in the sky, he couldn't stop the audible groan that escaped him.

Chiyo laughed lightly, "long day?"

"The day's hardly started," Akaashi sighed, carding a hand through his hair, ruffling it at the back of his head. "I just want to sleep. I had a long weekend."

Ena gave the editor a smirk, "had fun with (Y/N) I presume."

"Oh shut up, Ena," Chiyo chuckled.

Akaashi slumped into his spinny chair, making it squeak at the fast movement and extra weight. Despite facing the other way, the light pouring through the window was incredibly bright, making him squint uncomfortably as he glared Ena's way. The other man gave him a conniving smirk.

"I wish that were the case. But not quite, I was dragged out by one of my friends to play volleyball yesterday. Apparently, their setter got bailed out and they needed a substitute. Everything's sore." Akaashi let out a pained groan, stretching his casual blazer covered arms above his head. He peaked a look over to your cubicle glancing at the unruly organization of sticky notes and pens that touched every surface except for your frames and monitor screen. "Where's (Y/N) anyway?"

"Naoko caught a cold, so (Y/N) is working from home today." Chiyo let out a pitiful whine.

The door to Udai's office opened slowly as the artist finished her sentence. It creaked as a mop of wavy black hair poked through. His nose pushed against the edge of the door as his eyes peaked over. "Poor baby Naoko is sick?" He asked, voice curling upwards. “If I could, I would make him some warm stew.”

“If you don’t get back to work you’ll fall behind,” Chiyo warned, not taking her eyes off of the large screen she drew on. With his frown becoming an unsightly grimace, Udai rushed back into his little office, berating himself for taking his eyes off of the paper for even a second.

Akaashi continued to stare at the empty seat on the other side of the frosted cubicle, biting his lip. He sighed, turning on the monitor on his desk, just barely ready to face the work he had to do for the next few hours.

Yukie opened the door, giving the taller man a familiar curled grin as she gestured for him to enter the apartment. He noticed the tall ceiling that had a fan hanging down from it and the plain couches that were covered with a soft-looking blanket. To his left was the open kitchen, where he carried over the stiff bag that he had been holding tightly onto. Yukie coughed, still holding the door open as she kicked on her shoes, umbrella in hand.

“I’m off to see some old friends,” she said. “I would say not to burn the place down, but it seems you brought food. See you.” The door shut gently behind her.

Down the hall, in Naoko’s room, you placed a cool towel against the boy’s forehead. “You really shouldn’t have played in the rain when Keiji dropped us off, now you’re sick.” 

He moaned tiredly in response, trying to turn his head to feel more comfortable, nearly letting the towel slip. Shimmying the heavy fabric back into place, you let the tips of your finger trail along his hairline, feeling for his raised temperature as you soothed him. “Oh sweetie, it’ll be okay.” You pecked his forehead lightly, grabbing the empty glass that sat on his bedside table and tucking his soft orange blanket over his shoulders. “Go to sleep, it’s okay.” His eyes were already half-closed and you were rising to your feet when the door opened.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Akaashi pitched, having waited a few moments in the hallway to listen to the melting tone of your voice as you spoke to your son in words the editor couldn’t understand.

Awe immediately filled your stomach, fluttering like little moths trying to find the nearest light. You watch as the man bowed slightly in the doorway before taking a few steps to meet your side. Leaning down, the back of his hand came to cup the younger boy’s cheek. Your eyes widened as Naoko's head fell limp in Akaashi’s palm, nuzzling into the strong muscle beneath the man’s skin. The strange feeling nagged at you again, making your lips pull into a pursed smile.

“He played in the rain didn’t he?”

“Even after I told him not to. Maybe he would’ve listened to you better,” you chuckled, crossing your arms against your stomach as your brain took a moment to switch back to the staccato paced language, different from your native tongue.

“It’s a shame though,” Akaashi said, walking to the door, hand coming up to hover behind your back. “I brought some warm soup for him to eat, I guess it’s just us then.”

The both of you walked toward the kitchen/livingroom split, and Akaashi gestured for you to sit down as if he were the host instead of the other way around. He reached into the cabinets to pull out two bowls.

“Let me help yo—”

“You’ve done enough today by taking care of Naoko. Let me at least do this for you.”

The light soup, despite not being the sick one in the house, warmed you up easily as it’s delicate flavour ran over your taste buds with each spoonful. The two of you ate in silence, listening to the rain that spat against your windows with every gust of wind. You didn’t even realize that you had asked for seconds before the bowl was once again placed in front of you by one of his sturdy hands. 

You quickly looked up to inspect the sharp corners of his eyes that smiled at you without needing any assistance from his mouth. The stare you were holding was quickly diverted to the bowl in front of you.

Before you even had the chance to notice Akaashi’s adoring gaze or the syllables that were about to fall off his lips, you blurted out.

“Thank you, Keiji. For everything.” You looked up just in time to see his mouth shut, waiting. “I honestly couldn’t be more thankful for everything you’ve done for us, I can’t put it into words.” You furrowed your brow as you maintained eye contact with him. “No, I seriously don’t know the words in Japanese. Don’t expect me to start spouting out a haiku for you just yet.”

He chuckled lightly, letting the melodic sound dance into your ears, making it even more difficult to put the right words together. You could feel heat burn the skin of your cheeks.

“I want to repay you somehow, so how abo—”

“How about I take you on a date?” he asked, leaning his elbows onto the counter.

You gulped, completely unable to get the words to escape you, and nodded.

Naoko, as you noticed over time since his initial meeting of Akaashi, has grown in unprecedented ways. Now, seven years since he was born, those small insignificant memories from when he was little had slowly faded into your subconscious, despite their images being engraved into your brain in those earlier years. 

Your lip swelled from the bite mark you left as you watched him bounce on the wooden court, heals never planting into the ground.

Yukie, the sports-loving and nutrition enthusiast, was the first substance added to this boy of a chemical reaction; introducing Naoko (and by association you) to the keep up sport at the ripe age of three. Working with athletes on a day to day basis and being near them since middle school gave the maroon haired woman a leg up in understanding in comparison to non-sporty parents. As soon as she was able, she took on the position of something akin to a soccer-mom. Helping you enroll Naoko in sports as soon as he was able to walk.

At the time, Naoko never seemed all too interested in volleyball itself. More attracted to the notion of being able to bounce something around. It at least kept him away from your phone. But as he grew older, and people began to notice that he wasn’t originally from Japan, Naoko’s outer shell seemed to build a bit, only opening the door for a stray volleyball to roll in. He was so shy.

Akaashi, so similar in some respects, made an unknowing catalyst in the young boy’s reaction. Suddenly and rapidly evolving the young, shy boy into one whose outer shell had carved out a bigger door, letting more things in, and a lot more out.

At the beginning of the volleyball season, only a couple weeks ago, Naoko’s coach came up to you after a practice, asking if the young player would be interested in moving up a level in the club, joining the representative (Or Rep) team for his age group. Naoko had stared at you like a tiny tawny owl until you agreed.

Now, you sat on the small metal bleachers set up for parents to watch their kids play, letting the excitement bubble in your stomach as your eyes trained on the young boy set a ball up into the air for his teammate to spike into the opposing club’s side of the court. The blue and yellow ball smacked into the floor after flying over the short net.

“Good Job!”

Your vision, as the players set up for the next serve, shot to Akaashi who was standing next to you, hands open on either side of his mouth as he yelled out in support. You smiled as he sat down again.

“Thank you for inviting me to come watch him play.”

A laugh escaped you as your hand waved defiantly. “To be honest, it was Naoko’s request. I was just the messenger. Besides,” you prompted, gesturing slightly to your son, who’s smile tore at the corner of his squishable cheeks, the largest you’ve ever seen from him. “He wanted you to see his first ‘real’ game.”

Akaashi’s charming grin was hard to look away from and at. 

“You know,” you continued, nodding over at the larger man that stood on the opposite side of the court with the rest of the players. “His coach told me that Naoko was a true prodigy after his try-out.” You bit your lip as you looked down at your fiddling fingers, feeling the light throbs begin to push against the back of your eyes. “Volleyball makes him so happy, and for him to know that he has talent is only pushing him further. God, he’s only seven and he’s already told me that he wants to be a volleyball player.”

You sniffled, hands clenching each other tightly. “I owe you so much Akaashi, you don’t even realize.”

His larger hand came to pull yours apart before holding the closest one gently in his palm. Letting his thumb swipe over the back of it. “You don’t owe me a single Yen, (Y/N). But hey,” he said, making you pick your chin up to face him. “If he wants to be a professional, I know a few cool guys he might want to meet.”

Sometimes I think about the fact that some of the people that have read our one-shots might share them with their friends or have a platform where they are popular, and it scares me and makes me happy at the same time. 

Also, we changed our upload date to Sunday because it works better for Kiwi. - Bacon

Posted: 13/09/2020

[keijistar]

GAME: REBLOG WITH A FEW OF YOUR FAVORITE LINES YOU’VE EVER WRITTEN!

tagged by @hajimine! thank u so much baby 💞 this was hard cause I don't even think I'm that proud of my work atm but it was fun to look back at old pieces and find some pleasant surprises 🥰

Solo Carol — Oikawa Toru [One Shot]

"Still, he seemed to lack a light of his own, and basking in other people’s glow — as joyful as it may be — comes with a price. Toru was left alone, only his shadow accompanying him through the night."

Guardian Angel — Akaashi Keiji [Drabble]

"‘An angel’, he quietly thought to himself. Veiled by the subtle white gleam of the night sky, you were ethereal to him, a star of your own." 

Untangled — Akaashi Keiji [WIP]

"He wasn't known to be a quitter but was reasonable enough man to recognize defeat. And before Keiji could feel the ground shattering beneath his feet, he ran."

tagging: @mrs-miya @moondaius @shoyosun

[cryoculus]

Lunaris [3/11]

Navigation

Chapter Title: First Quarter Pairing: Yokai!Akaashi Keiji/Reader Word Count: 2,557

***

A few days passed by in a blur after your fainting spell at training. 

When you came back to school once you've fully recovered, Itsumi practically bawled her eyes out, sputtering apology after apology as if the reason for your absence was because she'd untied your laces. You could only console her awkwardly, explaining that, no, the untied shoelaces weren't the cause of your domino effect of misfortune.

For missed school work, your classmates had been kind enough to share their notes from the previous lessons you'd missed, filling you in on some of the upcoming requirements for the week. You only had two days' worth of backlog, but it was a lot. Thank god you were generally a likeable person.

"Yo, (Surname)!" 

In the middle of rewriting some missed notes, the familiar glee in Bokuto's voice sang in your ears. Your body reacted before your mind could, sending jolts of heat creeping up your face before you could even face him. The ace stood by your desk, and when you looked up, he was grinning like he'd just won the lottery. You weren't even classmates. What was he doing here?

"Bokuto-san," you breathed, hoping he won't comment on your flustered appearance. "Do you need anything? Ah, belated happy birthday, by the way."

Bokuto waved away your concern. "Thanks, but it's nothing. Heard that you blacked out the other day and I didn't even notice." His words were followed by the ace reaching a hand to scratch the back of his head apologetically. "If I'd known, I would've helped out."

You could feel your heart rate doubling at the sight of him apologizing for something that wasn't even remotely his fault. Why? Why was the universe orchestrating this interaction? Were they seriously trying to make you like him more?

"You don't have to feel guilty, you know," you chuckled, putting your pen down to face him directly. "You looking out for me is nice enough of you." 

"Heh, really?" A sheepish smile stretched across his mouth. "Akaashi kind of guilt-tripped me for being so dead-set with going home that day, that I was totally oblivious. And then..."

Akaashi. The mere name was enough to trigger a dull throb in your temples. Your memories of that day were still muddled, but there were a couple of things you recalled with striking clarity: your glowing charm, and Akaashi's apathetic gaze turning blood-red feral in the blink of an eye. 

When Fujimoto explained that you got hexed by a yokai, you didn't ponder about it too much—total recovery being your top priority during the past two days. But now that the topic of the seemingly ordinary second year had come into light once more, your instincts told you that he was, indeed, the cause of your so-called affliction. 

"You alright, (Surname)?" 

Blinking, you realized that you spaced out in the middle of Bokuto's rambling. He's gazing at you, golden eyes wide and head tilted to the side like a curious owl. 

"Um, yeah!" You followed that up with a nervous-sounding laugh. "I'm just swamped with all this school work, and I just don't know how to manage them all." 

"Ohhh," he drawled, nodding in understanding. "Well, I won't eat up any more of your time. See you around!"

Once that force of nature stepped outside of your classroom, you noticed that some of your classmates were casting you curious stares, whispering among themselves. Itsumi, who was grinning at you like a fox, just happened to be one of them.

You sighed, occupying yourself with your notes. Who knew what kind of ideas Bokuto's little chat had planted in your best friend's head? You didn't want to know, nor did you have the time for it. 

*** 

"You really didn't have to lead today's laps when you just got back, you know?" Coach Yamamoto told you off with a hint of a scolding in his words. "If you relapsed, I think the Amatsuki shrine might just have my head offered at the lunar festival." 

You humored him with a soft laugh as you squeezed what's left of the contents of your water bottle in your mouth. Wiping the excess moisture from your lips, you turned to your coach with a reassuring look. "I'll see to it that it doesn't happen, coach."

When he politely excused himself out of the conversation, you headed straight to the gym, where the rest of your teammates have just about finished showering. You looked around for a bit, and it seemed that the volleyball team finished early because it was only their manager and coach left inside along with the track team. You refused to acknowledge that the bite of disappointment that pricks your heart was because Bokuto wasn't around.

"Hey, (Name)! You gonna shower?" Itsumi called out from the bleachers as she towelled her damp hair. 

You shook your head, slinging your gym bag across your shoulder. "I just came in to check on you guys. Could you make sure everyone gets home safely? Oba-san's making me run errands for the festival."

Your best friend nodded. "Sure. I'll tell them to send updates to the group chat so you can see, too."

"Thanks. I owe you one, Sumi. Bye guys!" 

"Bye captain!" was the singsong response of the rest of your teammates who were waiting on the others. You smiled before turning on your heel to make your exit. 

The walk from Fukurodani to downtown Tokyo didn't take very long. You knew each nook and cranny like the back of your hand, and wading through the abundance of evening commuters didn't hassle you as much as any other person. Your grandmother had only told you to meet with her middleman somewhere near Ikebukuro station, and that you would definitely recognize the man when you see him. 

That didn't really offer enough clues about the middleman's identity, but as you neared the station, you were able to spot a middle-aged monk in traditional Shinto robes, carrying with him a gilded crate similar to the ones you've always seen in the shrine's offertory hall. He certainly stood out from everyone else in the vicinity.

"Takahashi-san?" you asked once you got close enough to speak to him.

The monk turned to you questioningly, but his eyes shone with recognition the following second. "Ah, Amatsuki-sama! The elder mentioned I would be meeting with someone who wore a charm." 

You blinked in confusion before glancing at the bell on your wrist. It tinkled with the slight motion, and you realized that he was talking about your bracelet. 

"Oh, I'm not an Amatsuki," you corrected sheepishly. "My grandmother just sent me out to get the...?"

"Omamori amulets?" Takahashi continued, chuckling as he turned the knob on the crate and lifted the cover. Inside, dozens upon dozens of omamori or protection amulets were safely sealed in bubble wrap packaging. Each pouch came in a plethora of colors and patterns on the fabric, and you found yourself gaping slightly at the beautiful designs.

When Takahashi sealed the crate shut once again, he handed it to you like its contents were fragile. You half-expected for it to be quite heavy, but it was lighter than you thought!

"I apologize for mistaking you for Anri-sama," he said, the name catching your attention. "You're her daughter, yes? You do look very much alike." 

The mention of your mother made your heart sink, but Takahashi probably had a long way to go back. Your grandmother did say he was from one of the sacred shrines in the Fuji mountains. He didn't have the time to hear your tragic backstory. 

"Thank you for going all the way here, Takahashi-san. Our shrine is looking forward to giving these to our visitors." You bowed politely. "I'll be on my way, and I hope you make it safely back, as well."

"May the gods favor you," he imparted with a gentle smile. 

***

When the weekend rolled by, you found yourself climbing up the moss-coated pathway that led to the highest point of the hill. You'd just finished eating dinner with your grandmother before excusing yourself to go up to the cemetery to do some contemplating. The worried look that creased her brow once you said the words was an expression you'd prefer for her not to make, but you've been itching to go back up here since meeting up with Takahashi last week.

The rusty, metal gates creaked with age when you nudged it open with your foot. After, no other sound followed. It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon, standing before the grave of several of your shrines followers. 

You breathed in the rich scent of the earth before treading forward. 

Most people would be unnerved to be walking alone in a cemetery at night, of all times. You understood why. It was like time simply stopped flowing for both those buried beneath the ground where you stood, and the area itself. The air was stale and the leaves underfoot fell apart much quicker than those scattered in the lower parts of the hill. The grass seemed like it's been a while since it was last watered, leaving the shrivelled up blades decaying at your feet.

But not once did you ever feel a surge of fear whenever you paid your parents a visit. 

"I'm back," you said, kneeling before their graves as you clasped your hands together to offer up a quick prayer. There were no incense sticks to light up, no offerings to be made. Your grandmother said that her daughter hated receiving things she couldn't give back to, and you respected that preference up until now. 

Amatsuki Anri and (Surname) Kazunari died in an accident about sixteen years ago—too long ago for you to remember. You'd been in the same car with them on that fateful night, but you miraculously survived; having been protected by your mother until the very end. Though you had no actual attachment to your parents, you were still grateful to them for bringing you into this world, and for saving you as well. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the way a gust of wind rustled the nearby trees; didn't notice the figure emerging from the forest your grandmother warned you to stay away from. Akaashi observed you with rapt attention, blue eyes never missing a motion made. You were speaking to a couple of stones, and though he found the practice quite useless—for lifeless objects did not have the capacity to speak back—he's witnessed hundreds of humans in his lifetime do the same thing. 

When the demon announced his presence, you were quick to identify where he was. Akaashi frowned. For a human, you were awfully perceptive. 

"Y-You..." your voice trembled, and for the first time, dread settled in the pit of your stomach, creeping up your skin in the form of gooseflesh. "You were the one who hexed me!"

Akaashi cocked his head to the side. "Hexed you? Yokai do not have such capabilities. It seemed to me that your body simply reacted to my presence is all. Oh, and so did that little warding charm, I suppose."

Your arm jerked away instinctively when you felt the familiar heat searing your skin. But the sensation wasn't as severe as the last time—the charm's glow having been contained into a small prick of light. With a grimace, you turned to look up at Akaashi, who seemed so normal, so unassuming that you never would have guessed what he actually was.

"Why are you pretending to be a human?" you asked, knowing full well that further interactions with yokai would only lead to your demise. "Is there something you're after?" 

In lieu of an actual response, Akaashi took it upon himself to walk closer to you. However, the closer he got, the hotter and brighter the charm glowed on your wrist. You hissed, attempting to undo the knots of the bracelet until the bell simply stopped glowing. You muttered a confused, "what?" before turning to Akaashi, who was barely a meter in front of you. 

"Were you really about to take off your only line of defense in the face of a yokai?" he chuckled. "Humans really are strange, indeed." 

You inched away from him slowly, but each step you took back, he closed the distance with a step forward—trapping you in between him and your parents' gravestones.

"We've been going to the same school for two years," he began, taking your hand in his. "Didn't you ever wonder why that charm of yours never tried to repel me before?" 

You were too stunned to take your hand out of his grasp, but you took note of how deceivingly smooth his skin was. When you didn't respond to his question, Akaashi heaved a sigh, tracing each of your fingers with a gentleness that yokai shouldn't have.

"I can conceal my demonic presence so warding charms like that do not react to me," he explained. "The only reason it did the last time was because I wanted to alert you of my presence."

"Y-You still haven't answered my question," you told him, praying to the gods that he didn't hear the terror in your voice.

Akaashi sighed, carding his free hand through his messy hair. "Impatient little creatures, aren't you all? But I suppose it's fair. Your time on this earth is awfully limited." He then lifted your hand up to his chest, flattening the palm on the firm surface. For someone who seemed slender, Akaashi's chest was certainly toned underneath his shirt. You could feel yourself flush at the idea of feeling up an athlete like him, but there was something amiss—something that should be there but wasn't.

"You don't have..." The realization dawned on you, turning your gaze frigid. "You don't have a heartbeat."

"That, I do not," he affirmed, loosening his grip on your hand so that it fell to your side. 

You were gaping at Akaashi like he's grown two heads. Though yokai were an entirely different race, they still needed a heart to be able to use their powers. If Akaashi was able to conceal his presence at will and assume the form of a human all without a heart, then he must be someone powerful; someone you never should have involved yourself with.

"Who are you?" you whispered, almost fearing to hear his answer. 

Instead of morphing into his original form to kill you on the spot like you expected him to, Akaashi spared you a lopsided smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning around while waving a hand in farewell. 

"If you want to know, meet me here tomorrow night, where the moon shines brightest." His words were obscured by the sudden breeze that howled in your direction, but you managed to understand, still. The wind cut through your face sharply enough for you to shield it with your hands, screwing your eyes shut. It roared in your ears, and you genuinely wondered if you were ever going to go home tonight. 

Suddenly, the gale died down. When you lowered your hands and opened your eyes, there was no trace of the boy who'd been here just a minute ago.

It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon.