Akaashi X You - Blog Posts

akaashi couldn’t be nonchalant as people made him out to be.

NOTE. Inspired by @/nethsukii’s post from TikTok!

Everyone always assumed Akaashi was the most level-headed person in the room, nonchalant in some cases, the calm voice amongst the chaos, the unshakeable setter with cool eyes and a brain that always operated two steps ahead.

That reputation didn’t change when he got a girlfriend—it intensified. People whispered about how lucky you were to have someone so composed, thoughtful, emotionally intelligent, and stable. A boyfriend who wouldn’t raise his voice, who’d remember anniversaries without being reminded, who’d bring you tea when you had cramps, and listen to you vent without interrupting.

And okay—yes. Two of those things were completely true.

But the “nonchalant” part? That one was a bit misleading.

Because if you asked Bokuto, or Konoha, or literally any of Akaashi’s closer friends, they’d tell you: he’s anything but nonchalant when it comes to you. Sure, he looks calm, but beneath that is a man whose brain short-circuits when you so much as bat your eyelashes at him thrice rather than twice. He’s an intense romantic disguised as a stoic intellectual. And the intensity isn’t dramatic or grand—it’s absurdly, endearingly specific.

“Did you know you sneeze in three stages?”

You blinked, pausing mid-bite of your grilled cheese sandwich. “What?”

Akaashi, seated across from you at his kitchen counter, wore his usual composed expression. His glasses slid a bit down his nose, but he didn’t push them up. He was too focused on you. “Three stages,” he repeated. “You do this little build-up thing first—your eyebrows scrunch, your nose wiggles like a bunny, and then you hold your breath for a second. That’s stage one.”

You stared at him with an expression of genuine confusion. “You studied my sneeze?”

“I observe,” he corrected smoothly, reaching for his cup of tea like this was just another normal afternoon conversation and not borderline concerning.

“Stage two is the sneeze itself. It’s never dainty. It’s loud. Forceful. Passionate.”

“That’s a weird adjective.”

“Am I wrong?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes?” You looked down at your sandwich. “I… don’t know how to properly respond to that.”

Akaashi gave the faintest smile, his eyes flickering with mischief. “Stage three is the little sigh you do afterward. Like you just survived a great war. Then you sniff once and pretend it didn’t just shake the room.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, “but it’s endearing. You sneeze like a bazooka. It’s adorable.”

“No one’s ever called a bazooka adorable.”

“I’m a trailblazer,” he said matter-of-factly.

-

There were his journal entries—yes, journal entries—about you. You found one once by accident, tucked between a book of poetry and a volleyball strategy book. He didn’t write about major milestones like one might expect. No, you found out your boyfriend documented the way your nose crinkled when you lied, or how your left hand twitches a little when you were anxious.

There was an entire paragraph dedicated to the way you wrapped your scarf, how it was “disarmingly efficient, yet always crooked to the left, like her heart’s trying to lean on someone without asking.”

Who says that?

Akaashi Keiji, apparently.

He once paused mid-sentence in a phone call with Bokuto because you, half-asleep and grumpy, had mumbled something unintelligible from the other room (you had come over for a project and fell asleep after lunch). “She sounds like a disgruntled possum when she’s waking up,” he said dreamily. “It’s charming.”

...

“Akaashi. You okay?”

“More than okay.”

-

Akaashi even adjusted his wardrobe—not that he admitted it. You mentioned once, half-joking, that he looked really good in dark green, and suddenly half of his winter clothes were moss, olive, or emerald. You caught on when he started showing up with sleeves rolled halfway up because you once muttered something about liking the veins in his arms.

“Yum,” you murmur, squeezing his triceps before bursting into a fit of laughter after realizing how embarrassing you’re acting.

But you learned long ago that there was never such a thing as too embarrassing when Akaashi acted the same, if not to a greater degree. He wasn’t nonchalant. Not even close. He was... silly.

A helpless romantic who never made grand proclamations or public gestures but instead memorized the oddest, most mundane things about you like it was part of some sacred text.

And yet, he wasn’t clingy nor weird to the point of you being uncomfortable. He knows your boundaries well. He wasn’t overbearing or overly expressive. He just noticed. Quietly, constantly, lovingly. He didn’t tell you he loved you every day in words, but he knew the way you curled your pinky when you drank from your mug.

He knew you got cold at 3 a.m. even in the summer and always made sure a blanket was within reach. He noticed when you rewatched the same ten-minute section of your favorite show because you liked the background music.

He remembered the exact number of sugars you took in your coffee and the fact that your favorite mug was slightly chipped, but you used it anyway because it was a gift from your cousin. He once stopped mid-sentence while talking to Bokuto on the phone just to say, “She’s humming the Sailor Moon theme in the shower again,” with a fondness so full it made Bokuto gag.

Man, he was whole-body deep into loving you.

-

How Akaashi often spends a lot of time thinking about things that weren’t even that serious.

Like how, that one time, you laughed at someone else’s joke for a few seconds longer than how he’d normally get from you. He doesn’t even get jealous when someone’s flirting with you because he knows—you know—and you’re both trusting of one another.

But to hear you laugh for 1.7 seconds longer?

You might as well give up now, because this man is persistent.

“Are you seriously keeping time now?” you asked, laughing at his behavior.

“Yes, my dad raised me to be competitive.”

“Don’t bring him into this, Keiji,” you laughed.

He looked at you as if you hung the moon and individually painted the stars in the beautiful night sky itself. “You’re very pretty,” he says. “I think I might experience a heart attack.”

You hugged him so hard you nearly knocked his glasses off.

-

When you painted your nails—usually some soft pastel or neutral tone—he would watch intently, chin in his hand like an art critic evaluating a masterpiece. At first, you thought he was just being polite (to try and appear interested, since guys don’t usually find interest in these sorts of things), but when you noticed the way he always commented on the color and style like it was a whole personality trait, you realized it wasn’t an act.

“Oh, that shade of sage green,” he murmured once. “It makes your fingers look like they’ve been kissed by a forest spirit.”

“What does that even mean?” You laughed.

He blinked, entirely serious. “It’s a compliment.”

“Keiji, I told you. If you’re going through something, you tell me—not just like—act this way.” As a joke, of course.

He laughed too.

Eventually, Akaashi started doing them for you. It began as a fleeting thought—you had been painting your left hand with your non-dominant one, struggling to keep it clean, when he silently plucked the brush from you and started painting with delicate strokes.

“You’re going to mess it up,” you warned.

“I have steady hands,” he said with all the gravitas of a surgeon. “We did this in Home Economics, remember?”

“...Yeah.”

From then on, it became a quiet ritual. You’d sit in his lap or next to him on the bed while he carefully painted your nails (he prefers the first one but isn’t shameless enough to tell you most of the time), brows furrowed in concentration, tongue sometimes poking out as he focused too hard. And every time he picked a color, it came with an elaborate reason.

“This one reminds me of the sky right after it rains in early spring. Soft, muted, but a little hopeful.”

You’d pretend to roll your eyes, but your heart would always flutter. Because you won the boyfriend lottery with him.

Akaashi was just built like that. When you two cooked together, he’d narrate what you were doing like it was a documentary on divine beings. “And now, the goddess stirs the pot, bestowing warmth and nourishment unto mankind.”

“Stop it,” you giggled, flicking water at him. “Don’t narrate it like that. You’re making it sound like a case study.”

“But it’s fun,” he says with a smile.

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m so in love with you.”

And he truly is.

And you believe him.

Akaashi wasn’t nonchalant. He was soft-spoken, yes. Composed, yes. But behind that calm exterior was a boy with a mind full of your quirks and a heart that was overflowing with enough love to swallow you whole. And somehow, that made you feel even more lucky than you already were.

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akaashi cheater au :( with the song rose by jereena montemayor pls pls make it super angsty 🥺🥺

Rose of Thorns (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Akaashi was much like a rose. He was beautiful, soft and enchanting. But he also had many undeniable thorns. (Based on “Rose” by Jereena Montemayor)

A/N: I’m really sorry I waited so long on this request!! I just haven’t been in the mood to write angst in a while, but I swear I’m working on it! Also, I should’ve focused on the cheating aspect in this fic, but eh. I tried. Mega angst, so watch out. Side note: good lordy that song put me in my feels GODDAMN! Hope you like it!

Word count: 1285

        You loved him.

        You loved him so much. 

        But you knew what was happening too. 

        He was drifting away from you, bit by bit. Every day, he seemed a little more out of it with you. A little less passionate with his words. A little less adoring with his eyes. 

        They were filled with more guilt than anything. 

        Every time you kissed him, told him you loved him, hugged him after a long day, his responses always seemed a bit slower than the time before. He was slipping through your fingertips day by day, but you didn’t want to lose him. 

        It started with a kiss, as it always does.

        Akaashi’s team won the game, and after lining up to shake the other team’s hand, Akaashi’s eyes skimmed the crowd. You were smiling and cheering and waving at him, but they didn’t reach you. 

        No, instead they stopped on another. She was beautiful too. Her hair looked softer than yours. Her legs were longer, more slim and toned. Her large eyes were enchanting as well, even you yourself could understand how one could get lost in them. 

        You didn’t know her name, all you knew was the pain that stabbed through your heart. Every beat seemed to drain you of life. 

        Oh.

        Then Akaashi’s eyes finally drifted to you in the crowd, and the blue orbs were pouring with guilt as you made your way down to him. 

        Like normal, you hugged him and smiled, muttering a congratulations. But it was all lifeless and soft. He knew you had seen it, and his face seemed to twitch nervously. 

        Akaashi was always composed and calm, so maybe that was how he recovered from the shock so quickly. His hands soon cupped your cheeks, and a gentle, loving smile soon encompassed his face, causing you to instinctively relax and return the gesture. 

        He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. 

        Oh God. 

        It hurt so much to feel how little passion was in it. By definition, it was a kiss, but you knew it was so much more. It was a brush of lips, so light and compulsory, like an obligation to keep up a lie. 

        “I love you.” The words tickled your lips thanks to his proximity. His thumbs caressed the tips of your cheeks gently while he leaned his forehead against yours and stared into your doting gaze. 

        “I love you too.”

                                ~~~

        A rose sat on your desk in your room. Homework laid forgotten underneath it, and you hugged your knees to your chest and wept. 

        Your eyes hadn’t left the flower once. Like Akaashi, it was beautiful, gentle and soft. But thorns ran along the stem like vicious pricks of reality. 

        He was the one who had given it to you too. After all, it was Valentine’s Day. But where was he? 

        Doing homework, stuck at practice with Bokuto, spending time with his family. Any number of the excuses he had texted you in the past few days. 

        God, I love him so much.

        Of course you didn’t want to. Who wanted to be in love with a cheater?

        With an outstretched hand, you shakily picked up the rose, careful to avoid the thorns. One pricked you anyways, no matter how much you thought you avoided it, but you only whimpered at the pain. You didn’t drop the rose. 

        You held it closer to your face, finding small waves of comfort in its flowery scent. The rose was alluring, spirals of petals enticing you to come closer, to embrace the soft touch of each blood red petal. 

        But at the end of the day, it was just a rose. 

        Your phone buzzed, but it was just one of your friends in a group chat. No, nobody was talking to you personally. Your boyfriend was somewhere else, with only the physical, basic show of affection left in your hands to remind you of him. 

        The screen lit up your dim bedroom and stung your bloodshot eyes. And the background picture came clearer as the notification finally faded. 

        It was you and Akaashi. You were draped over his shoulders with a large smile on your face, beaming like the sun. His eyes were rolling at the dramatic act, but a hint of a grin was displayed through an upturned corner of the mouth. Adoring. That’s what he was. 

        Was. 

        Gulping, you grasped the phone in one hand and opened it, entering your photos. All of it was there. Pictures from the beginning of your relationship all the way to the end were in albums, dating back a year. 

        You clicked on the very first one that held him. 

        Akaashi was holding a sign, his cheeks burning bright red. One of his arms was draped around your shoulders, and your own were wrapped around his waist in a tight hug. His gaze was locked on you, but you were smiling brightly at the camera. He had asked you to prom, and you distantly remember your first dance. 

        “You look gorgeous.” 

        You hadn’t felt like you did until that moment. Until that beautiful man himself looked you in the eyes and truthfully told you how captivating you were. Nobody had ever told you that before….

        Pluck. 

        Tears trailed slowly down your cheeks as you slowly dropped the petal into the trash can beside you. Knees wobbling, you relocated to your bed and sat criss-crossed on the mattress. You set your phone in your lap and held the rose in your hands. 

        The bedroom was cold. You almost shivered, your tank top and sleeping shorts barely keeping you warm, but it almost didn’t bother you. At least, you weren’t distracted by it. 

        Your phone screen lit up your whole room with another picture as you swiped your finger along. 

        Akaashi was pecking your cheek while you hugged him tightly after winning a volleyball game. 

        Pluck.

        Akaashi was kissing you in the rain after your one month anniversary. A new necklace glittered around your neck, the one currently sitting at the bottom of your trash bin. 

        Pluck.

        Akaashi was trapping you tightly against his side, holding you under an umbrella and affectionately scolding you about not wearing warmer clothes. You were wearing his sweatshirt. The one that still sat in your closet, waiting to be washed even though you cherished the scent it held. 

        Pluck.

        Akaashi was staring at you in amazement as you stepped down the stairs in a floor length dress. Heels made your legs seem endless, and they only appeared every couple steps thanks to a sultry cut on one side of the skirt. “I don’t deserve you, angel” he had mumbled against your lips.

        Pluck.

        Akaashi.

        Pluck.

        Akaashi.

        Pluck. 

        Pluck. 

        Pluck.  

*Are you sure you want to delete these 105 photos? This action cannot be undone.*

*105 photos deleted.*

        Maroon petals littered your bed. You tossed the bare rose stem into the trash can, now only consisting of green thorns. 

        Your cheeks were damp and your eyes felt heavy and tired. 

        I loved him so much. 

        You only had one thing left to do. 

You: We need to talk. 

*Message sent*

uhh hi again 😅 im sorry for requesting again hdhd but is it ok to request another akaash papercrane au? where him and the reader are friends and akaashi believed that if he folds a thousand paper cranes the reader who is sick would get better but in the end when his wish came true his life was taken in exchange for his wish.

Paper Cranes (Akaashi x Reader) 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A thousand paper cranes led to one wish. Or at least that’s what the legend said. Akaashi never wanted or even minded if it was true. At least, not until you came along.

A/N: I’m just out here wondering why y’all wanna be hurt. Like wtf. Anyways, this bitch angsty. Like I seriously hope y’all cry at this, bc boy did I want to. So like, pls feel free to tell me if you did cry, bc then I would feel accomplished. Aight, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 3725

        There was a… legend, of sorts. 

        If any one person could fold one thousand paper cranes, he or she would be granted a wish. 

        Akaashi had heard this story from his grandmother at a young age, and since then scoffed at the idea. What’s a wish gonna do? And why would he need one?

        He never truly believed in fate, destiny, or any other mystical mumbo jumbos. At least not until he met you. 

                                ~~~

        The swings are the loneliest place on the playground. Only one person can enjoy the ride at the time. If you have someone to push you, you only have a split second every time you swing back toward them to talk or laugh or enjoy each other’s companies. 

        Akaashi found himself there often. He was the quietest kid in his kindergarten class, and though his appearance did make him popular in crowds, he preferred the solitude of the swings. 

        The swings didn’t expect him to be funny. They didn’t expect him to be smart. They didn’t expect him to be perfect. 

        “Hey, can I swing with you?” 

        The swings didn’t- wait, what?

        Akaashi slowed his back-and-forth swaying, lowering his dusty tennis shoes to the bark of the ground to observe who had spoken. 

        It was a girl. A girl he had seen in his class often. The rays of the sun glimmered in her eyes, making them seem magical and kind. Her hands were folded behind her back shyly, and she scuffed the toe of her plastic sandal against her other heel while awaiting his answer. 

        Being confronted by his classmates was nothing new. All the time they came up to him and chattered like mindless lemmings. But Akaashi couldn’t help but gape at this girl in shock. 

        She was the first person to ask. 

        “S-sure.” 

        The young girl gave him a wide smile and crashed down into the swing beside his, already propelling herself to and fro with a kick of her feet. 

        A feeling awoke inside Akaashi in that moment. Competition. 

        Quickly, he bent and locked out his knees, trying to catch up to your pace though you were quite a bit ahead. You giggled and squealed when he swung ahead of you, and cheered victoriously when you blew past him. 

        Breathless. That’s how he felt. There was a glow in his chest, and suddenly he understood why so many other kids enjoyed being around their fellow classmates. 

        Having a friend who enjoyed the same things as him was fun. 

                                ~~~

        “YN!” Akaashi groaned, grimacing at the sight of you dancing victoriously above him. 

        “Look at all this money, Keiji!” You threw the Monopoly dollars in the air, waggling your hips and whooping. “How does it feel to SUCK?” 

        The black haired boy only folded his arms and pushed himself deeper amongst the blankets of the pillow fort. A pout carved onto his face when you began rubbing the fake bills against your cheeks. “Ahh, to be a millionaire. By the way, how’s your bankruptcy?” 

        “Shush, you,” he sulked, grabbing a stray pillow and tossing it at your head. You only dodged and laughed, crashing onto the floor beside him with a large oof. 

        “Ahh c’mon, you know you love me twerp,” you poked the side of his cheek as you laid on your back with a grin. 

        Shaking his head, Akaashi turned his face the other way and hid a small smile. “I can’t believe you were my first friend.”

        “Only ‘cause you sucked at swinging too.”

        “How does one suck at swinging?”

        “I don’t know! How do-”

        “Kids!” Akaashi’s mother interrupted, peeking her head into the fort with a quirk of her lips. “You better get to sleep. It’s almost ten.” 

        “Okay, Mom,” the boy nodded, discreetly jabbing your stomach as soon as she disappeared outside once more. 

        “OW!” you squealed, ruffling his hair in return. 

        The living room grew silent as you both settled in to sleep five minutes later. The excitement had calmed down, and now Akaashi was huddled in a blanket just a few inches away from your own. 

        His heart raced at the idea, and many thoughts flitted through his head. One being… 

        “Hey YN?” 

        You fake snored loudly and Akaashi scoffed, pulling a lock of your hair. 

        “Geez dude, why you always gotta hurt me?” You rolled over, incidentally getting even closer to your friend, and opened your eyes to face him. Akaashi was almost choking at the proximity. 

        With a purse of his lips, he lifted himself on one elbow and scratched the back of his neck. He avidly avoided your gaze as his cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry, I just….”

        You raised a brow. “Yeah…?”

        “We’re gonna stay friends, right? Even when we go to middle school? And even high school?” 

        Akaashi held his breath while you tapped your cheek thoughtfully. “Well, I was actually kinda hoping I could replace you with Godzilla once we got there, but if that doesn’t work out, then I guess so,” you shrugged. 

        He rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Come on, I’m being serious.” 

        “I am too.”

        “Come on.”

        “All right, all right!” You lifted your hand out from under your blanket and poked him in the cheek once again, a new, nervous habit of yours. “Of course, stupid. We’re gonna be best friends forever. I promise.” 

        You held out your pinkie with a grin, and Akaashi stared at it hesitantly. 

        “Forever?” 

        You nodded, and he gave in, interlocking his last finger with your smaller one. 

        “Yeah, Keiji. Forever.”

                                ~~~

        Volleyball became a huge part of Akaashi’s life in middle school, and even on into high school. 

        “Hey, hey, hey Akaashi! Pass it to me!” 

        But not once did your friendship stray. 

        “It’s yours, Bokuto!”

        Every few seconds, he caught a glimpse of you in the stands. A large grin adorned your face, and you held a personalized sign just for him that you waved frantically any time he scored a point. 

        “GO AKAASHI!!!” Your voice, almost impeded by the overall clamor and volume of the gymnasium, was still fine-tuned in his ears. They perked at the cheer like the first melody of a bird on a bright morning. 

        A quirk of his lips accompanied the call, and he had to shake his head to stay focused on the game. 

        Block this guy’s spike.

        Send the set directly above the net so Bokuto can get a cross-court shot. 

        Where’s Konoha?

        I better send this one to-

        His never ending train of thoughts faltered for a second at the sound of a collective gasp. Nothing amazing had happened on the court, at least not from his point of view. So something must’ve happened in the crowd. 

        Hollers and cheers shifted to low, concerned murmurs. 

        The team on the other side of the net watched the audience in complete shock. 

        What is…

        Akaashi turned around with a crease in his brow and instinctively searched for you.

        You were gone. 

        Nostrils flaring, he slipped under the net to the other side of the court for a better vantage point. The sight shot his heart to pieces. 

        There, on the second level of the gym, collapsed against the plastic bleachers, was your unconscious form. 

                                ~~~

        The fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the hospital buzzed almost silently. And yet, for as long as Akaashi had been there, it was the only sound he could hear. 

        He stood outside your room like a guard dog, keeping his gaze locked on you at all times. 

        Through the glass windows of your room, he watched as your parents hugged you with tear-stained cheeks. You, on the other hand, were emotionless. Your eyes were unfocused, and you didn’t seem to be tuned into reality at the moment. 

        A half an hour passed. Your parents finally let him into the room, and he stepped in almost unwillingly. 

        “Mom, Dad, can… umm… can we have a moment alone?” 

        Your mom almost screeched in denial, but your father swiftly nodded and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the room. “Of course, sweetie.”

        As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Akaashi gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. “So….”

         You seemed to snap out of it and turned to him with blank eyes. Your form was slumped back against the pillows of the hospital bed and you fiddled with the white cotton blanket. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, but it seemed to tremble every few seconds. Or maybe that was you. “Keiji.” 

        He took the cue and scurried to your bedside, grabbing your IV-plugged hand in his own. The pads of his fingers ran over your skin in a comforting manner, but he wasn’t exactly sure if it was helping any. “YN… what-”

        “The doctor said I have like a year.” You sounded so distant, locked away deep inside yourself. Almost confused at what was happening, but you also knew your fate. 

        Akaashi couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered and his brows furrowed and he almost grew angry at your dismissive state. But he couldn’t be mad at you. It wasn’t your fault. 

        “What,” he shakily whispered, whole body rigid, “YN, what happened?”

        “I don’t know,” your voice cracked, and suddenly the facade fell. Or maybe reality finally set in. “They said I’m sick or something and it’s incurable and I’m going to die! Oh God, I’m going to die, Keiji!” You wailed and bawled and cried as much as you could, and Akaashi let his tears flow too. 

        “I don’t wanna die!”

        Akaashi nodded, grimacing and clenching his eyes closed while he sat on your bed and hugged you. 

        “Please, I don’t wanna die!” 

        Your body convulsed in his grasp as you heaved out sobs, afraid of something you couldn’t fight. This was a battle no one could win. This was fate. 

        Akaashi cursed under his breath as he rocked you back and forth, running a hand through your tangled strands before whispering soft reassurances to your deaf ears. 

        You began to cough and hiccup, shoving your face deeper into his soaked shoulder. 

        Nothing could be said. Nothing could be done. 

        The room was tense, filled with utter, uncontrolled fear. 

        Nothing could stop this.

        “Please don’t let me die.” 

        Akaashi’s bloodshot eyes opened in the slightest as an idea hit him. He squeezed you tighter as your sobs slowed to whimpers, and shook his head. I won’t let that happen.

                                ~~~

        “Do you have an eight?”

        “Go fish.”

        “Fuck.”

        “Do you have a king?”

        “...No.”

        “YN.”

        “FINE!” You threw your cards down on the bed with a pout. Akaashi chuckled and gathered up the cards, giving you a smug glance. 

        “What is it you said to me when we were kids? ‘How does it feel to suck?’”

        You stuck out your tongue and batted his teasing hands away before folding your arms. “Shut up,” you muttered. 

        The hospital room was becoming more and more your own. Flowers decorated the windowsill, a couple books sat on the nightstand, and you even had a few folded cranes of Akaashi’s on your headboard. 

        Months had passed, nine to be specific, since you got the diagnosis. Time was running out. 

        “Well, YN, I brought your homework.” Akaashi dug around in his bag before pulling out a stack of assignments. A bright yellow sticky note sat on the top with your name scribbled haphazardly. 

        “You know, Keiji, it’s funny you think I’d actually spend my time doing that instead of, oh I don’t know,” you playfully shrugged, “having fun the rest of my life.” 

        Akaashi gulped but forced his smile to remain steady on his face. For you.

        “I think you should still do it, YN. It’ll keep you smart.” 

        “What smarts am I gonna need when I’m-” 

        “YN please.” Akaashi winced at your recent lax in self-respect. A muscle in his jaw irked at the thought, but his eyes stayed locked on the cranes just above your head. 

        You nodded and softened your gaze. “Sorry, Keiji.” You held out your hands and accepted the papers he handed you. “I’ll try my best on them.”

        “Thank you. And don’t forget to use my notes,” Akaashi added.

        “How could I,” you scoffed. “Half of ‘em are done in glitter pens.” The corner of Akaashi’s mouth quirked up at the thought. 

        “Only ‘cause I know you like them that way.” Akaashi leaned in to give you a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair that he knew you couldn’t feel. Your warmth, the warmth you filled his heart with, made him never want to leave. But he had to. 

        “All right, I have to go, but before I do,” Akaashi dug around in his bag for a second before locating his gift with a sparkle in his eyes. “Here.”

        A blue paper crane was set in your palm, and his fingers brushed yours before he pulled them away. Your body wiggled in happiness at the new addition. 

        “Yay! Another one! How about I call this one…” you trailed off, tapping your chin in thought. Then you pointed your finger in the air in glee. “Perry! What do you think, Keiji?” 

        You reached up and set the crane along with the others while Akaashi nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” 

        Just as Akaashi stepped away, you grabbed his hand and tugged it to gain his attention once again. 

        “What’s wrong?” 

        You scrutinized his face with narrowed eyes, reaching your hand up and brushing your fingers just above his cheeks. “Keiji?”

        “Hmm?” His eyes were almost closed in bliss, enjoying every spark of exhilaration that came with your touch. He flinched when you patted his cheek roughly. 

        “Get some more sleep at night. You look like shit.” 

        Blue eyes flickering open, he covered your hand with his own and delivered a soft kiss to your palm. “Not in a million years.”

                                ~~~

        Everything around him was fuzzy and blurred. The room was so dim and warm. A wave of exhaustion hit him every two seconds, leaving his head reeling and his ears thumping. 

        And yet, he wouldn’t move. 

        No, not if he couldn’t help it. 

        Papercuts littered his fingers. Scraps and scraps of paper, all shapes, colors and sizes, laid out in front of him, along with one lone whiteboard and marker. 

        The sun was just beginning to rise outside his window, and birds began to stir in their nests. 

        Fuck, he was so tired. His body pleaded with him to close his eyes just once. 

        No. 

        Shuffling of parchment became his new white noise. The pads of his fingers were on fire with every fold and every crease. 

        Then he set the new crane behind him, uncapped the marker and drew a single tick mark. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-four,” he muttered with a sigh. 

        Another.

        He grabbed a new page with sore, pained arms, resisting the urge to yawn and starting anew. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-five.”

                                ~~~

        “Ughhh yesss,” you moaned, licking the sweet stickiness off your fingers. “It’s been too long since I’ve had ice cream.” 

        Akaashi smiled at the sight. Your face had glowed with pure joy when he showed up with your favorite flavor, and you had deadpanned “I love you.”

        It was enough for him. He chuckled into his own bowl before swallowing another spoonful. “What, is the Jello not any good here?”

        You flipped him off and continued downing your cold treat. “Next time they try to force that gelatinous shit down my throat, I’m just gonna hop out the window.” 

        “From the fourth floor?”

        You shrugged. “Why not? I could make it! I’ve seen it in the movies, all you have to do is roll.” 

        Your dark haired friend scoffed at the thought. “Yes, please ‘roll.’ It will be much quicker travel than limping on two broken legs.” 

        You busted out laughing. “See? Now you get it!” Your face was frozen in pure joy as you held your ice cream. 

        This moment made it all worth it. You were beautiful. Completely happy and carefree for the first time in a year. Akaashi didn’t want you to worry anymore. 

        He would only hope that you could find someone to make you laugh like this again once he was gone. He didn’t want you to be alone like he had been before you. You were the light of his life. You made him discover a purpose for living, and you lead him through it. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth if need be. And now was the time to repay you.

        His bag was empty this visit aside from a single slip of paper. It was blue, your favorite color. “It reminds me of your eyes, which are really hot, by the way,” you had said.

        “I did my homework like you asked.” You nodded with complete self-assurance and even held up the assignment. “I might’ve gotten number three wrong though….”

        “That’s okay.” Akaashi set down his bowl and stood up, approaching your bedside with slow, purposeful steps. 

        You were breathtaking at this angle. The sun shined just barely through your room’s window, and lit up your entire face with a single ray. It emphasized the natural glow of life you already had. 

        Yeah, he could do this. For you, he would do anything. 

        When he stopped at your bedside, you shifted under your blankets until your legs hung off the side of the mattress. Completely facing him, you threw him a questioning glance. “What’s up?”

        “Can I kiss you?” 

        He had to at least try. If only once. 

        You stopped breathing and your heart stuttered in your chest. Akaashi could read it all over your flushed face that-- Thank God-- you felt the same way he did. 

        It was a mixture of euphoria and anxiousness that flooded his stomach when you nodded. A shy smile covered your face, and it grew larger the closer he leaned towards you. Then finally, your lips touched. 

        The kiss was soft and slow, with Akaashi’s hands landing on the bed around you to support himself. Your lips were plush and tasted like sugary sweetness, and he snatched up your chin the second you tried to pull away too soon. 

        This second kiss was more passionate, rushed and intoxicating. The fervor of it left you feeling light-headed and breathless. And loved. His lips smashed against your own in a desperation of showing how he felt. It was as if he was making up for lost time, or something opposite of that. 

        And then he pulled away, gasping for air and not regretting a thing. His hand slowly dropped from your chin and fell to your thigh, barely covered by the thin hospital gown. His fingertips, rougher than you remembered, gently massaged your skin, leaving you to sigh happily. 

        His forehead pressed against your own, and smiles were permanently etched on both your faces. 

        “I love you,” Akaashi finally whispered, eyes staring honestly into your own.

        “I love you too,” you pecked his lips once more and he returned it with ease. 

        You stayed like that for so long, just enjoying the feeling and proximity of one another. The air was clear. You loved each other. 

        But now, one of you had to let go.

        Akaashi pulled away slowly with one last peck. While you sat with affectionate eyes watching his every move, he dug in his bag and pulled out a slip of paper. 

        “You write me a letter or something?” you teased. 

        “This is better than any letter I could write you, love, trust me.” Akaashi threw you a soft smile before settling onto the bed beside you. 

        You watched in utter fascination as folded and pressed the paper with skilled fingers. 

        “Wow, Keiji, you’re so good at that!” You let a hand hover over his own and stop the process for a second. “How long have you been practicing?” 

        Akaashi froze in an instant, but quickly rolled his shoulders and relaxed his form, leaning himself closer to your presence. “Quite a while now, but I did it for you.” 

        You beamed at him, tears pricking your eyes. “Keiji….” With a small, disbelieving shake of your head, you pressed your lips to his own just one more time. This time as a thank you. 

        Then you urged him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. 

        And he did so. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        And at last, the final product. A single paper crane of gorgeous blue, just like his eyes. 

        “YN.”

        “Hmm?”

        Akaashi hands you the crane and stares deeply into your eyes. “I love you.” 

        “I love you too.” 

        “And I wish for your life to be spared. At the expense of my own.” 

        “What?” You giggle in confusion, growing more and more concerned as Akaashi’s eyes seem to flutter. 

        Then they close for one last time. 

        “Keiji?” 

        His body slumps back, falling like dead weight to the mattress of your hospital bed. 

        “Keiji?!”

        You were afraid. So afraid. 

        “Keiji, what did you do?” you mumble breathlessly, wide eyes locked on him. On his body. 

        “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

        Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest, leaving your whole form trembling. 

        “KEIJI!” Your blood-curdling screams led crowds of nurses to your room, but they could never pull you away. You, keeled over Akaashi’s lifeless form, refused to move even an inch. You hugged him close, wailing and wailing against his unmoving chest. Incoherent moans scratch your throat as you rock him back and forth, whispering I love yous one last time.

        The legend was uncomplicated, but so painfully real.

        A thousand paper cranes. One wish. 

        And Akaashi’s wish was simple. A life for a life. 

        Him. For you.

hi,,, do u still take requests? if so uhm :( can u write an akaashi x reader au based on burn fr0m hamilton?

Burned Promises (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Every letter he wrote you was useless now. After he cheated, they were filled with  nothing but lies, and what was the point of keeping lies lying around? (Based on Hamilton song “Burn.”)

A/N: Requests are open :)! I’ve never watched Hamilton, so… let’s just hope this is what you wanted. BUT I DID MY RESEARCH. Now it’s not this whole Hamilton/Haikyuu rewrite, but I did take the gist of the song and write it for Akaashi, so I hope you like it! Enjoy!

Word count: 1217

        When you had first met Akaashi, he had enchanted you. The way he spoke so eloquently, how he held himself so purposefully. His looks had struck you first, with black locks tussled so perfectly atop his head and gunmetal blue eyes that struck your heart. 

       He had bewitched you. 

       Since the day you met, it appeared you had captured his attention as well. He wrote you letters, and much like the way he delivered his words by mouth, he delivered them through pen potently. 

       Every paper you received filled you with euphoria. Seeing your name scripted in personalized swirls of his hand lit your love aflame. But it was the sentences, the paragraphs he crafted so passionately that kept you entranced.

       “My angel, every second I spend away from you is a second of my life wasted.”

       You felt the same.

       “Unlike what others say, your love has strengthened me and filled me with purpose.”

       You felt the same.

       “My angel, we were meant to be. Every thought in my consciousness has been overtaken by the image of you.” You felt the same. “Bliss floods my heart when I receive mail graced with your devotion. I devour your every word like a man starved the longer we are apart. Please, my angel, send more to me. Each piece you send me fills the whole your parted presence has left. I am yours, and your cherishes will fuel me till the end of time.”

       You felt the same. Or apparently you felt some way. 

       In the streets of your own town, on some random day, you began to feel like an outcast. People observed you with pity and sorrow. 

       “Poor girl.” 

       “What a shame.”

       “No one deserves that.”

       What were they talking about?

       It didn’t take long for news to travel one step farther. Your friend enveloped you in a hug and rubbed your back soothingly after you had shown up on her doorstep in tears. 

       “I should have listened to you.” 

       She had warned you months ago to watch him, be careful around him. She had said that one day, he would hurt you, and she was right. 

       After months and months of letters exchanging affection and tenderness, Akaashi had broken your heart. He cheated with another woman and hadn’t even had the gall to tell you first. 

       No, you had to learn from others. People who barely even knew you told you that your relationship had fallen apart. 

                               ~~~

       That night, Akaashi slipped into the house with a grimace. In search of you, he followed the sounds of a crackling fire and entered the living room. You were seated with your back to him, facing the chimney with your knees on the hardwood floor. Your entire form slumped as you settled back on your heels. 

       He hesitated to enter, instead clenching his jaw and standing in the doorway. 

       “Angel…”

       “Don’t.”

       Your voice was quiet and scratchy as you spat the word. From what he could see, your hands were laid out in your lap, holding something. 

       The flickering flames were the only thing lighting the dark room, hissing and battling each other to grow stronger. Silence overlaid the tense atmosphere, and Akaashi found himself unable to breathe. His hands twitched by his side, the hands that had touched another woman. 

       He wanted to hold you, comfort you if possible. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

       You heaved a sigh and lifted your head, previously dropped low, and stared into the burning heat. With all the composure you could muster, you unlatched the fireplace door and pulled it open, letting your eyes water at the increased light. 

       And then you threw one in. His first letter. 

       Akaashi inhaled swiftly at the sight but he didn’t move a muscle. 

       He had meant every word he had written in those letters. Things had just… gotten messy and grown to be too much at one point. 

       At least, that’s the excuse he told you. 

       “I don’t care,” you muttered in response, observing another letter with a snarl before feeding it to the crackling flames. The parchment was engulfed in seconds, and every sentence that had ever made your heart twinge scorched up with a tsss.

       The pile of papers dwindled down to one, and you scanned it over for a split second. 

       “I will always be yours.”

       It charred into smoky flakes just as quickly as the others. 

       You wiped away a wave of tears and closed the door to the chimney before smoothing out the skirt of your nightgown. Then you rose to your feet and closed your eyes, taking one long, deep breath. 

       The peace didn’t last long.

       Your gaze flew open at the feeling of a hand settling on your shoulder. 

       “YN, I still love y-” 

       You threw off Akaashi’s grip and whipped around, giving him a fierce glare. 

       “I hope you burn in hell.” 

       His eyes dropped and his cheek twitched at the words. 

       After a few minutes, you could no longer stand the sight of him. Your heart ached to think that he could betray you in such a way. He said he was mine.

       You wished you could forget it all. Not only what he had done, but everything before. The first kisses, the first touches, the first anything.

       You wanted to forget the strong arms that had caressed you to sleep at night. You wanted to forget the long fingers that had combed through your hair. The soft smiles, only for you. The flicker in his eyes that spoke volumes. The tenderness of the lips that had kissed you, brushed over every inch of you. 

       Akaashi wasn’t yours anymore. And God how you wish that wasn’t true. 

       With a shake of your head, you made your way out of the living room, pausing only in the doorway to glance back at him.

       He stood with his head hanging low, but, as if he felt the weight of it, he looked up to meet your gaze. 

       His eyes, pools of deep indigo with the occasional fleck of cyan, stared at you deeply. They glimmered with hope. 

       You wouldn’t be so cruel as to feed it. 

       You turned away with a trembling frown and continued on your trek up the stairs. Footsteps attempted to follow you to the bedroom, but you threw a halting hand over your shoulder and shook your head. The strides slowed to a stop behind you, and you could swear you heard a silent whine. 

       He was broken over what had happened too. But that didn’t mean you forgave him. 

       You couldn’t face him as you said it, but one half of your bed would be empty for a while. 

       “Sleep on the couch for now, Keiji.” 

       God, I hope he burns.

hi i LOVE ur writing sm!! i look forward to pretty much every single one of ur posts, ur super talented :)

do you think you could do an akaashi x insomniac!reader? akaashi is known for overthinking and stuff so tbh i think his anxiety might make him stay awake sometimes, but prob not full blown insomnia. i js think a oneshot of him helping reader or maybe just the two of them hanging out super late one night because neither of them can get any sleep (maybe college!au where he’s stressing about his classes? or could be just volleyball related. whatever works for you!).

maybe it could be pre-relationship too. like they might be friends then reader sees him active on some social media and decides to text him to hang out and they get super close after this night. again, whatever works for u!!

omgg my heart thank you 😩❤️ Your words mean so much to me 🥹

I think I hit all the boxes, I hope you enjoy <333

--

Anon Ask: Akaashi

The clock blinked 2:47AM in soft digital blue, casting a dim glow that painted the walls of your dorm room in slow, pulsing light. You stared at it from where you lay on your back, eyes wide open, blanket pulled up to your chin like it would somehow coax sleep into settling over your body. It didn’t.

It never did.

Insomnia was a loyal companion. Even on nights when your limbs were heavy and your mind felt worn thin, your thoughts refused to settle. They danced along the edge of reason, hyper-fixating on things that didn’t matter: words you said three days ago, the shape of clouds you saw that afternoon, the persistent question of whether you locked the door. A quiet ache had formed behind your eyes from sheer exhaustion, but sleep wouldn’t come.

You turned over, grabbed your phone off the nightstand. No new messages. Just a faint glow from the charging screen illuminating your tired face.

Then, a notification.

akaashi_keiji posted to his story

You tapped it open without thinking. A dim photo of a laptop lit up against a pile of books and a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. The caption read: 2AM is a perfectly reasonable hour to still be working, right?

You stared at it. Your fingers hovered.

Then you sent a message.

you: you up up?

The reply was almost instant.

akaashi: Unfortunately.

you: Wanna hang? Can’t sleep and you look like you need a break.

A beat passed. The dots wavered, stopped. Then—

akaashi: Give me 5.

--

Akaashi showed up at your door at exactly 3:03AM. Hoodie pulled over his head, dark sweats clinging to the chill of the night, his hair mussed like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His eyes were tired but alert, flickering with that same sharpness he always carried—like he was cataloging everything, even now.

You stepped aside without saying a word. He entered just as quietly, slipping off his shoes and placing his bag beside your desk with a soft thud. He dropped to the floor beside your bed with a sigh that seemed to deflate the weight on his shoulders.

“Rough night?” you asked gently, perching on the edge of your mattress.

“I have a presentation next week, three deadlines, and Bokuto keeps texting me motivational memes like it’s going to fix my GPA.”

You laughed under your breath. “It won’t.”

“Exactly.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward. The hum of your mini fridge and the occasional creak of pipes running through the dorm added to the low ambience of sleeplessness. You looked down at him, his knees pulled up slightly, arms draped over them, like he didn’t know how to get comfortable in his own skin.

“Wanna watch something?”

He shook his head. “Too much noise.”

“Read?”

“Already tried. Can’t focus.”

“Lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling until we disassociate?”

He glanced up at you with deadpan humor. “Honestly, that sounds ideal.”

You grabbed a second pillow and tossed it to the floor beside him. He didn’t hesitate. His body uncurled, long and lean as he stretched out beside your bed, head cradled in the fluff of borrowed comfort.

You joined him moments later, lying back so the ceiling filled your view. Pale shadows danced above you, shapes warped by passing cars and the swaying leaves outside the window. The ceiling fan ticked rhythmically above.

“You get this often?” he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice matching his. “Like... more nights than not. It just doesn’t stop. My brain, I mean."

Akaashi sighed, breath feathering the space between you. “Mine too. It’s like it waits until I have to sleep to start racing.”

You turned your head, studying the outline of his profile in the glow from your desk lamp. The slope of his nose, the delicate curve of his lashes, the soft press of his lips.

“So why’d you come?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Because you asked. And I figured... maybe it’d be better to not be alone with it.”

You nodded, the pillow rustling beneath your cheek. “Yeah.”

Minutes passed in silence. He turned to face you, and you mirrored the movement. The two of you laying side by side, not quite touching, breaths moving in rhythm.

“We could do this again,” you whispered. “If you ever can’t sleep. You could just... come over.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I think I’d like that.”

At 3:57AM, you both fell asleep.

Shoulders brushing. Minds quiet. The night finally letting you rest.

Favourite Position: Akaashi

Akaashi Keiji was always composed.

He prided himself on control—measured movements, careful touches, a steady rhythm that never wavered. But right now? Right now, control was slipping through his fingers like sand, and he was powerless to stop it.

Because you were in his lap, your back pressed flush against his chest, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He was buried deep inside you, the warm, slick heat of you squeezing him so perfectly that his breath kept hitching, his hands tightening against your skin as he tried—tried so hard—to keep his pace slow.

But he was losing it.

"Keiji…" Your voice was soft, breathless, and he could feel it everywhere—your body shifting against his, your pulse hammering under his fingertips.

His forehead pressed to your shoulder, breath heavy against your skin. "Feels too good," he admitted, voice strained, nearly shaking. "I—"

He swallowed hard as you rolled your hips, and a groan ripped from his throat.

Fuck. Fuck.

Akaashi had never felt like this before—this weak, this desperate, this close to breaking apart. He’d always been able to focus, always been able to last as long as he wanted. But this? This position?

With you like this, stretched out against him, your body molding so perfectly to his—

It was wrecking him.

"You’re shaking," you murmured, fingers reaching back to tangle in his dark hair, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He groaned at the sensation, his hips jerking up involuntarily, forcing himself even deeper into you. Your breath caught, and the way you clenched around him made his vision blur.

Shit.

"I can't—" He exhaled sharply, his grip on you tightening, his muscles tensing as he felt himself teetering on the edge. "I don't think I can—"

You turned your head slightly, pressing a teasing kiss to the side of his jaw. "You don’t have to hold back."

Akaashi cursed under his breath, his composure unraveling completely.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh, his thrusts turning needy, frantic, desperate. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his moans muffled against your skin as he fucked into you—

Hard. Deep. Sloppy.

He was unraveling with every motion, every clench of your body around him, every little sound you made that sent fire through his veins.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice raw, his rhythm stuttering. "I'm—" He sucked in a breath, his entire body shaking, trembling, losing control.

You reached back, dragging your fingers through his hair again, your voice a whisper. "Let go, Keiji."

And that was it.

The coil in his stomach snapped so violently he almost blacked out.

A deep, shuddering groan tore from his throat as pleasure crashed through him like a tidal wave. He spilled into you, hips jerking as his entire body trembled, the overwhelming intensity making him bury his face deeper into your neck. His breathing was ragged, erratic, completely wrecked.

He had never come that hard before. Ever.

For long moments, he just held you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his body still shaking from the aftershocks. His fingers traced absentminded patterns against your waist, his breath slowing, but his mind was still reeling.

What the hell just happened?

You shifted slightly, and he groaned at the oversensitivity, his arms instinctively tightening around you, keeping you still. You giggled softly, your voice laced with exhaustion and satisfaction. "I think you liked that, huh?"

Akaashi swallowed hard, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before murmuring—"Didn't know I could feel like that."

His grip on you softened, fingers brushing against your thigh. He exhaled a slow, shaky breath, the realization settling in.

This was his favorite.

And now that he knew?

He wasn’t sure he could ever have you any other way again.

Rivalry: Akaashi

You had worked your ass off for this promotion.

Late nights, impossible deadlines, last-minute rewrites—you’d done it all. You had sacrificed weekends, spent too many nights hunched over your desk, and powered through mind-numbing meetings, all in the hopes that your work would finally be recognized. And now, with the senior editor position finally up for grabs, it was down to you and Akaashi Keiji.

Akaashi—the picture-perfect editor. Calm, meticulous, frustratingly good at everything. The kind of guy who never looked frazzled, never rushed, never flinched under pressure. It was like stress simply did not affect him.

And somehow, despite working just as hard as you, he always seemed one step ahead.

You wanted to win this. Not just for the raise or the title, but to finally beat him at something. To prove that you were just as good—better, even.

So when your boss called you both into the office, hands folded with a pleased smirk, you thought, Maybe, just maybe, I’ve got this.

Then the words left their mouth.

“Akaashi landed an exclusive with the MSBY Jackals.”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?”

Your boss nodded. “Full-length feature. First-hand accounts. Exclusive team coverage. Bokuto introduced him to the players himself—an incredible opportunity. The kind of coverage that puts our magazine on the map.”

You snapped your head toward Akaashi, who sat calmly beside you, hands folded neatly, expression unreadable.

That smug bastard.

This was his play? Getting his old volleyball captain to pull strings for him?

Your blood boiled.

“Oh, come on,” you said, barely keeping the irritation out of your voice. “That’s not exactly fair.”

Akaashi finally turned to you, blinking in that cool, composed way that made you want to shake him. “How so?”

You scoffed. “You used connections to land the interview. It wasn’t based on merit.”

Akaashi tilted his head, looking entirely unbothered. “I leveraged resources available to me. That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

Your jaw clenched.

The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

Your boss leaned back in their chair, watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement before raising a hand to cut off the argument. “Enough. If you both want this promotion, you’re both going to prove you deserve it.”

You blinked. “What?”

Akaashi didn’t react, but you saw the faintest flicker of curiosity in his sharp blue eyes.

“You’re both going to work on the feature together,” the boss continued, tapping a finger against their desk. “I want the best piece possible. If you can’t put aside your rivalry long enough to get this done, neither of you will get the promotion. Understood?”

Your fingers tightened around your notepad. This was not what you wanted. The whole point was to beat him, not work with him.

But you couldn’t back down now. Not when the stakes were this high.

“…Understood,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Akaashi nodded smoothly. “Understood.”

“Good.” Your boss glanced at the clock. “Get started. I expect a solid first draft by the end of the week. And with the deadline, I imagine you’ll be staying late to work on it together.”

You bit back a sigh, already feeling the impending headache.

The moment the meeting ended, you stormed past Akaashi, but before you could make it out the door, his voice followed, low and amused.

“Try not to let your frustration get in the way of our work,” he said smoothly, adjusting his glasses. “It’d be a shame if I had to carry you through this project.”

You turned on your heel, eyes narrowed. “Oh, don’t worry, Akaashi. If anyone’s carrying this project, it’ll be me.”

His lips twitched, just slightly. “I look forward to seeing that.”

You hated how much fun he was having.

But most of all?

You hated that he always found a way to stay one step ahead.

~~~~

The office was silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the occasional irritated sigh escaping your lips.

You had been here for hours, stuck in the same damn room with Akaashi, going back and forth on revisions, disagreeing on everything.

“That transition is too abrupt,” Akaashi said, his tone calm as he skimmed over your section. “It needs more context.”

“It’s concise,” you shot back, stretching in your chair. “We don’t need extra fluff.”

He exhaled softly, as if reigning in patience. “It’s not fluff. It’s clarity.”

You groaned, leaning back. “You’re impossible.”

Akaashi didn’t look up from his screen. “And yet, you’re still here.”

You wanted to throw something at him.

After another hour of back-and-forth edits, your eyes started to sting from staring at the screen for too long. You rubbed at them, sighing deeply as you slumped in your chair.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered. “We’re never going to finish at this rate.”

Akaashi glanced at the clock. “Then we should stop arguing and be efficient.”

You shot him a glare. “Oh, so now you’re suddenly a team player?”

His lips quirked. “I always was. You just refuse to acknowledge it.”

You groaned again, running a hand through your hair. This was going to be a long night.

Akaashi sighed, leaning back in his chair as well, adjusting his glasses. “We’re making progress. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. The article was shaping up, the writing crisp, the interviews well-structured. And despite your deep frustration, working with Akaashi wasn’t as horrible as you wanted it to be.

Still, you weren’t going to let him think he had the upper hand.

“We’ll see,” you muttered, turning back to your screen.

Akaashi hummed, watching you for a moment before returning to his own work.

The night stretched on, both of you determined to outdo the other, neither of you willing to be the first to give in.

And just like that, the rivalry continued.

Until Akaashi broke the silence.

"I have extra tickets to the MSBY game this weekend. You should come."

Your fingers froze over your keyboard. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Akaashi didn’t even glance up, still focused on his screen as if he hadn’t just said something completely out of character. "The game. It would be beneficial to see the team in action if we’re writing about them."

You narrowed your eyes. "You could just send me the game footage."

His fingers tapped lightly against his desk before he finally looked at you, gaze unreadable. "That’s not the same."

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I’m not. I’m being practical."

You scoffed. "Uh-huh. Sure."

Akaashi tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You don’t have to come. I just thought you’d appreciate an exclusive firsthand look. But if you’d rather rely on secondhand reports, be my guest."

Your jaw tightened. You hated how effortlessly he manipulated situations in his favor.

"Fine. I’ll go."

Akaashi nodded, returning to his work as if nothing had happened. "Good. I’ll send you the details."

You stared at him for a second longer before shaking your head, muttering under your breath.

This was getting too weird.

An alternate universe

"i hope we are together in every universe"

the cold metal band was placed on my finger. he stared at the ring with teary eyes and then at me.

"i love you"

Haikyuu- Yamaguchi, Kuroo, Oikawa, Ushijima, Asahi, Semi, Suga, Hinata, Iwaizumi, Tendou, Bokuto, Akaashi, Shirabu, Daichi, Tsukishima, Kageyama, Suna, Atsumu, Osamu, Kita, and your favourites:)

a/n: ignore grammatical mistakes :), divider from pinterest.