Cursed Speech Has Always Been Exactly That, A Curse. For As Long As Toge Can Remember, He’s Been Accidentally

akira reacting to a (eventual) S/O that beats the phantom thieves in finding the treasure at palaces, like they always show up near the end to just give them the palace's treasure smugly or clear out all the shadows in the palace right before the PTs actually enter the palace? sorry if it's a bit confusing!

I’m pretty sure this isn’t the direction you expected me to take this but darkness my old friend paid me a visit :^)

“That was far too dangerous!”

“You should be thanking me!”

Shouts and defences fired back and forth as you and Akira argued in the safe room.  Stuck to the sides, the rest of the Phantom Thieves wore varying grimaces and frowns under their masks as they spectated the fight.

“We need to stick together in Palaces–how many times do I have to repeat myself?  This is a team!” the onyx-haired male practically snarled in frustration.

A scoff left you as you snubbed your leader before retaliating, “I can handle these small-fry on my own!  I already cleared us a path to the treasure so why can’t you just admit I’m doing a good job?”

“Am I supposed to be proud?  Just say "oh, nice job” while you throw yourself into danger?  There’s no way I’m anything but worried sick about you!“ Joker threw his hands up in exasperation.

"I can take care of myself!” you growled.

“Oh really?” the male responded as his pupils narrowed dangerously. “Then you can take care of yourself by yourself from now on.”

A collective gasp left the remaining members of the team as they processed Akira’s words.  Your own mouth opened in silent astonishment before it flapped in an attempt to make a comeback.

“Wait, what?” was all you could come up with.

Your regret, however, was far too late.  Akira had already turned his back to you and approached the others with a neutral air and discussed further plans for the Palace.  The other thieves were clearly uncomfortable, but stayed out of the personal dispute.  You tried to call out to the male, but all you received in return was the back of Akira’s black trench coat.

Hi! I was wondering if I could request akaashi, iwa, and/or atsumu kissing their best friend, please and thank you💕 I really liked the oikawa, kuroo and bokuto one!

— synopsis:  haikyuu boys x y/n; kissing their best-friend 

— characters included: akaashi, iwaizumi, & atsumu 

— genre: soft boi hours! fluff! lil angst! 

— author’s note: while the previous one was based off the tiktok, this one will be just general made-up plots to keep things different! (hope that’s okay!) 

akaashi

when you found out akaashi liked someone, you experienced your first heartbreak. 

you knew falling in love with your best-friend was all on you, but you couldn’t help but just hope that maybe one day he would return your feelings. 

but yet here you were, hopes and heart shattered. 

you almost wanted to breakdown the moment he told you, but you held it out as much as possible, your tears falling only once you were away from him. 

“y/n, I wanna tell you something...” he started slowly as he held the volleyball in his hand tightly. 

chuckling softly, you removed his hands from the ball, taking it from him, “you’re going to bust this if you hold it any tighter.” 

blinking, he stared at his empty hands before laughing lightly. taking a deep breath, he turned to look at you, a soft smile on his face. 

“I like someone.” 

this time it was you whose grip tightened on the volleyball. 

unsure if you heard him right, you stammered, “y-you what?” 

scratching the back of his head, he repeated shyly, “I said I like someone.”

“oh.” you responded, voice lower than a whisper. 

you quickly realized just how dejected you sounded, and if anything, that was the exact opposite of how you should’ve sounded. 

throwing on a bright smile on your face, you giggled, “ooh keiji has a crush~” you teased lightly. 

flushing, he laughed, “yea, I guess you could call it that.” 

“who is it?” you asked almost immediately, the curiosity getting the better of you. 

at that, akaashi stiffened. chuckling nervously, he averted his gaze, “um, it’s someone you know.” 

since that day, akaashi had never told you who his special someone was. you didn’t know why he was hiding it from you, after all it was better to peel the bandaid off completely rather than bit by bit like he was doing to you these last few weeks. 

it started with him telling you how amazing she was. how she was the funniest person he knew, how strong-minded she was and how beautiful she always was to him. 

then it went on to how she made him feel. how she always made his day, how he felt butterflies whenever she would touch him and how he just wants to hold her hand in his. 

and just like that, week by week, akaashi would talk about nothing but her. 

to make things worse, it appeared that most of the volleyball team knew. every day at volleyball practice you would hear their teasing remarks, bokuto’s being the loudest. and in response, his cheeks would flush in embarrassment, the sight making you only hurt more. 

should you quit? you wondered to yourself. it was hard enough on you to hear akaashi telling you his feelings, but it was a whole other thing having several people support him, reminding you every single second of every day that your best friend had fallen for someone else. 

you really loved being fukurodani’s volleyball manager. after all, it was one of the biggest excuses for you to spend more time with akaashi. but even aside from that, you made a lot of great friendships and memories with the team. 

but you really didn’t know if you could go like this anymore. 

sighing, you pulled your bag closer to you as you walked home with akaashi. 

“what are you thinking about?” 

shaking your head, you mumbled, “nothing important really.”

brows furrowing together, he asked, “mm you sure? you looked super serious for a second.” 

“dunno, just thinking about quitting being manager.” you muttered, before realizing what you had just confessed. shit. you didn't know how you were going to get out of this one. 

stopping in his tracks, akaashi’s eyes widened in surprise, “w-wait, you’re thinking of doing what?” 

muttering a soft damn it under your breath, you quickly threw on a nonchalant facade. giving him a shrug, you said casually, “it’s not that big of a deal keiji, there’s still the others.” 

turning back around, you started to walk again while akaashi stood there, fumbling for words. catching back up to you, he pressed, “but why? I thought you loved being manager?” 

biting the inside of your cheek, you knew he was right but you had to come up with some excuse, something to throw him off at least for now, “I just, school’s getting pretty busy—” 

“is that really it?” he interrupted, his voice slightly turning accusatory. 

your eyes narrowed at him, “what does that mean?” 

out of the both of you, akaashi was always the calm one. but today it was almost like you were seeing another version of him. where his eyes shook slightly, filled with an emotion that you couldn’t identify, his hands bundled into tight fists at his sides. 

“i just—” akaashi started, struggling to find the right words to say, “i feel like you’re not telling me something y/n. you’ve been off the last couple of weeks and I don’t know why—” 

you let out a bitter chuckle. 

“you’re kidding right?” 

if your reaction wasn’t enough to shut akaashi up, the words that followed definitely was. he watched as you shut your eyes tightly, your grip on your bag tightening, voice trembling, “I just, I can't do this anymore keiji.” 

akaashi’s eyes softened; moving closer towards you, he started to reach for your hand when you flinched away, the motion causing akaashi to blink in surprise. 

“d-don’t.” you whispered, blinking back the tears. “you won’t understand keiji. you won’t get what I feel and there’s no point in me telling you so please, just don’t ask me why.” 

“y/n, you can’t shut me out without even giving me a chance.” he reasoned softly to which you shook your head. 

“no, you don’t get it. e-everything will change and I just, I can’t handle that—” 

“I promise, nothing will change.” akaashi started, “you’ll always be my best friend—” 

“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore!” you finally exploded, the word starting to make you feel sick. your voice echoed through the empty street, each word coming back to haunt you when you realized what you had finally done. 

but there was no going back. 

“I want to be more than that...” you trailed off in a weak whisper. sniffling, you realized you had been crying without even knowing. brushing your cheek with the sleeve of your sweater, you added, “b-but you like someone else and that’s not your fault, it’s all mine. so just, give me some time keiji. i-i’m sorry.” you finally choked out before turning around on your heel and walking away quickly, the tears only falling faster at this point. 

shit shit shit shit

just then you felt something tug at your wrist, spinning you around as a slight yelp escaped your mouth. finding yourself being pulled towards Akaashi your faces just millimeters apart, you gasped, “keiji—!?” 

without uttering another word, akaashi closed the distance between the two of you as he grabbed your waist, pulling your frame flush against him as his lips enveloped yours in a soft kiss. his other hand cupped the back of your neck, his long fingers threading themselves into your hair as he pressed his lips tightly against yours. 

you felt like you were dreaming. 

before you could comprehend what was happening, akaashi had pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours as you watched his chest raise up and down with every breath. 

“keiji...” you whispered softly. 

“it was you.” he confessed quietly, “it was you, this whole time.” 

blinking furiously, you stared at your best friend as you slowly registered his words, “w-what, what do you mean?” 

lips quirking up into an embarrassed smile, he grinned, “the girl i said i liked? it was you y/n...that’s why i didn’t tell you who it was.” 

"oh.” you said as your cheeks flamed up in embarrassment, a shy smile appearing on your face, “it was me?” 

cupping your face in both his hands, he pressed another kiss to your lips before saying, “yes, it was you. it always has been.” 

as he gazed at you in complete adoration, you laughed softly to yourself, shaking your head in wonder. you were so preoccupied with the idea that the person akaashi liked wasn’t you, you didn’t even pay attention to all the signs and signals he had been giving trying to tell you that it was you. 

oh, how the world worked. 

iwaizumi

“iwaaaaa.”

“no.”

“hajiiiii.”

“no.”

“hajime! come on!” 

turning around to look at you, he rolled his eyes at you before saying the same word he had been for the last several minutes, “no.” 

crossing your arms across your chest with a slight huff, you retorted, “but why not?! it’s really that not that big of a deal, you’re just my best friend.” 

snorting, he turned his attention back to his laptop, “what kind of best-friends do you see kissing each other y/n?” 

“you make it sound crude, it’s not like I’m asking you to be my fuck buddy.” you grumbled, “I just said to teach me how to kiss, just once. It’s literally driving me crazy that I haven’t kissed anyone yet and then there’s the absolute fear of kissing someone and then realizing I suck and being utterly embarrassed for the rest of my life.” 

“then just find someone who hasn’t had their first kiss either. bam, both of you suck.” 

your narrowed your eyes at him, “do you have a list of men who haven’t had their first kiss? I can barely find one at this stupid university who has yet to sleep with someone, find someone who hasn’t kissed yet?! impossible.” 

iwaizumi chuckled softly under his breath as he heard you continue to grumble about how you were going to die alone since you would be too afraid to get intimate with anyone since you “sucked” at it. 

did he want to kiss you? always. 

but did he expect this to be the way? definitely not. 

he knew exactly how this would go, there was no way of it happening any other way. iwaizumi was always better at showing how he felt through actions than words, and after being best friends with you for so long, he knew you’d be able to tell the instant his lips met yours, just how fucking in love he was with you. 

“hajimeeeee.” you started to whine again, interrupting his thoughts. 

sighing, he turned around on his chair so that he was completely facing you. 

his first mistake. 

there you sat cross legged, plush lips pulled together in a small pout as you  stared at him with your soft wide eyes. 

“please haji...” you urge softer this time, a hint of desperation laced within your voice.

iwaizumi’s grip on his jeans tightened. the way you were looking at him was enough to set him off as his heart fluttered at the sound of his name from your lips. 

“you do realize you’re still going to be kissing me right?” he pointed out, “you're okay with that? ” 

nodding quickly, a smile quickly appeared onto your face. was he being convinced? you waved your hand about nonchalantly, “totally okay, you’re my best-friend, I trust you.” 

best friend, iwaizumi winced. the word stung a little more than usual today. 

after a while, iwaizumi finally said with a sigh, “look y/n, I don’t know...” 

your smile quickly dropped. 

“alright, it’s fine.” you said casually, although Iwaizumi could clearly hear the disappointment in your voice. getting up from his bed, you grabbed your bag from beside you and slung it over your shoulder. 

“hey, do you where tooru is?” you asked as you made your way towards his door. 

at the sound of his best friend’s name, iwaizumi’s ears perked up. brows furrowed together, he looked at you in slight curiosity as a bad feeling erupted in his stomach, “practice, why?” 

shrugging, you said, “i'll just go ask him instead, i’m sure he’ll do it.” 

oh, hell no.

before he could even think through his actions, iwaizumi pushed himself off of his chair and found himself reaching past you and closing the door with a thud! his arms caged you as you turned around and stared at him in complete shock, eyes wide and lips parted. 

chest rising up and down, he stared down at you, eyes swimming with an emotion you had never seen before. your own heart started hammering in your chest at the sudden change in proximity as you could feel iwaizumi’s breath fan your flushed cheeks. 

“h-hajime?” you stuttered out, blinking furiously as the boy simply stared at you. iwaizumi felt his brain completely short-circuit. this wasn’t like him at all. he was always the cool-headed one, whether it was keeping oikawa in check or being the supportive one for his friends. but with you, you had always managed to bring out parts of him he never knew existed. 

standing there, his gaze dropped down to your lips; it was as if being this close to you activated a magnetic field that he was unable to escape. leaning in towards you, his forehead rested against yours before he mumbled lowly, “a kiss is what you wanted right? then here.” 

slipping a hand beneath your jaw, his fingers tilted your face upward before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. 

what started as a butterfly touch, slightly nervous and afraid, quickly changed as iwaizumi pressed closer, deepening the kiss. feeling your back hit the door, your eyes fluttered to a close as you found yourself melting into his embrace, sighing against his lips as you kissed him back. 

iwaizumi’s grip on you tightened. he knew he should stop now before things got out of hand. before you caught on. before you realized how much this kiss meant to him. 

teeth tugging at your bottom lip, iwaizumi pulled away reluctantly, resting his forehead against yours. eyes fluttering open, he waited for your eyes to open and when they did, he felt his entire world stop. 

upon meeting his gaze, your eyes softened. you didn’t know what you expected when you asked iwaizumi to kiss you. while you were serious about wanting to experience kissing, you couldn’t help but admit that you always wanted your first to be iwaizumi. 

“w-was i okay?” you murmured softly. 

nodding, he chuckled softly, “yea, you were perfect.” 

at his words, your grip on his shirt tightened. a sudden surge of courage coursed through your body when you leaned closer towards him and added, “i think i need more practice.” before crashing your lips onto his. 

atsumu

“wow, they should make a rule to not let short people work at libraries. you’d need a stool everywhere you went.” atsumu snorted as he watched you try putting a book away on the highest shelf.

it was a friday afternoon and you and atsumu were both at your local library, volunteering after school.

granted you have to drag him there every week but hey, community service was important to you. 

turning around to shoot him a glare, you retorted, crossing your arms, “for your information, I am perfectly capable of doing this.

chuckling softly, atsumu raised a brow, lips twitching, “Oh? Really now??

letting out a huff, you turned back around, standing on your toes as you tried to reach the top, even holding on to the shelf as you balanced yourself. watching you from behind, atsumu simply shook his head and chuckled, finding your stubbornness absolutely freaking adorable. (even though he'd never tell you that)

moving behind you, his hand shot up past yours as he whispered, “just let me do it.” his breath fanning the back of your neck. as he took the book from your hand, his fingers grazed yours ever-so-slightly, enough to send your heart into a frenzy.

get it together y/n! you told yourself.

somewhere along the line, the boundary of friendship between you and atsumu started to blur. nearly everyone around you could see the way both of you slowly fell for each other.

but of course neither of you could, choosing to remain silent in fear of ruining your childhood friendship.

however you weren’t about to simply give up as you turned around to retort back, but instead, it was a decision you were quick to regret. your heart suddenly skipped a beat when it noticed the distance between the two of you was almost nonexistent. and if that wasn’t enough, the way atsumu was smirking at from above as you were completely backed up against the bookshelf, had you holding your breath.

waving the book in the air, a good couple feet above you, atsumu teased, “here, all you have to do is reach for it y/n”

for a split second, you forgot the position in which you were in, a sudden drive of competitiveness within you focusing on only getting the book atsumu dangled above you. 

pouting, you complained, “atsumu—! just give it to me!” as atsumu laughed at the concentrated look on your face as you endlessly tried grabbing at the air above you.

reaching upwards one last  time, pushing yourself up onto the very tip of your toes, you quickly realized you made a mistake when a mini yelp escaped your lips, your hands clutching the thing nearest to you.

which ended up being?

you guessed it.

atsumu. 

wide-eyed, your hands tightened around atsumu’s shirt as you quickly regained your balance. looking up nervously, you saw atsumu’s smirk slowly disappear as it turned into a nervous smile, his eyes gazing down at you with a look that was indescribable. blinking, you found yourself staring at atsumu’s lips, his soft red lips that just seemed oh-so-inviting, yet the thought of them on you had you flushing scarlet red.

“y/n?” atsumu’s voice rasped softly through the thick air, your grip on him tightening as the way his name rolled of his lips had your knees going weak.

but before you could respond, all you could feel was the softness of his nose brushing against yours, his hands that slowly cradled your waist as he pulled you closer into his grasp, and finally his lips following right after. his lips soft as clouds enveloped yours gently, nervously, tenderly, as his mouth caressed yours while you stood there stunned, unable to move as much as an inch.

sensing the hesitation in you, atsumu quickly pulled away, a look of panic flashing across his face. his cheeks went flush under the dim library light, as he looked at you, completely flustered, “fuck—I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me—”

“I didn’t mind.” you suddenly squeaked, your eyes widening as the words slipped past your lips, making you look away in embarrassment, internally cringing.

you did not just say that y/n!!!

atsumu’s face mirrored yours, a look of surprise on them before the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, the very smile he would always give only you, the very smile that would always have your heart skipping a beat just at the sight of it.

tilting his head to the side, he raised his brow as he teased, “hmm, you didn’t mind?”

this time, it was your turn to be flustered as you hit his chest lightly, avoiding his teasing eyes as he beamed down at you. chuckling, his forehead fell upon yours, his lips yet again just centimeters away.

“then you wouldn’t mind if I did it again?” he whispered lowly, his eyes falling back down to your lips.

“i wouldn’t,” you said softly, finding yourself inching closer to him, slowly closing the gap. 

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helloo!! congrats on 2k! could i request meteor + cyno for the event? possibly some forbidden love stuff… but your choice! im in the mood for angst 😈 thanks!

ahaha u wanted angst u got angst <3 this is another that got away with me, though not as much, it is 1k words hehe. thank you so very much for participating!!! btw for the sake of clarity, this is a royalty au where i have equated the matras to the royal guard <3

[event masterlist] [take part in the event!]

Through the V.E.N, you and your beloved have caught sight of something! A meteor, in a tragic existence never destined to turn out well. In the back of your mind, a glimpse of your future with Cyno springs forth...

“My dear matra,” you complain, “won’t you humour me just this once?”

“You know that is against my status,” Cyno sighs. “I cannot.”

As the King’s only child, you were destined to be married to some other notable royal. They had been picked out since your birth, primed and ready all their lives to provide a tactical union between your families. There was nothing you could do to stop the wheel of a preordained fate from turning. 

And yet that hadn’t stopped you from harbouring an enamouration for the head of the royal guard, the General Mahamatra Cyno, who had been personally tasked with protecting you by the King himself. His eyes are kind, when turned towards you at least, and his stern demeanour is offset by how softly he speaks to you when you are alone. If you were more of a fool, you’d assume that he might just feel the same way about you. 

“How unfair.” You fold your arms against your chest, pouting out your lower lip as far as it can go. “I just wanted to hold it, you know.”

“This headdress is a symbol of my status as your guard,” Cyno objects, before pausing as the rest of your words register. “You wish to simply hold it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’ll look very pretty without it.”

He clears his throat, a telltale sign that you’ve learned over the years means you’ve successfully flustered him. “That’s rather improper of you, highness.”

And yet his polearm is finally released from his grasp, balanced up against the wall, as he reaches to remove the ornate black-and-purple headdress. Loose strands of long white hair stick up from the residual static, a little unkempt and messy, and on instinct you reach out to smooth them down for him. 

He gently grasps your wrist to stop you, keeping it raised in the air between you. There is a silent showdown for a beat as you stare at him defiantly. 

“You’re so worried about ‘impropriety’ and what people will think,” you begin, “but I fear that you have not been inconspicuous at all in the improper way I catch you looking at me when you think I am busy.”

Cyno’s eyes widen. Your arm is released. 

Taking a step closer, removing what little distance there had been left between you, you continue. “Besides, if there are no souls around to bear witness, are we really doing anything improper at all?”

There is a moment, a mere second of consideration as you lean in closer. Cyno looks as though he will turn tail and run, exit your chambers and resume his station by the door like a loyal guard should. It is the wise thing to do, you think, but certainly not what either of you seem to want. 

You are close enough now to feel his uneven breath ghost across your cheeks, to see the falter in his composure as he finally, finally, gives in. 

Cyno kisses you furtively, one hand reaching to cradle the back of your head and the other holding tight to your waist. A desperate sound escapes him as you kiss back, your arms encircling his torso and clinging to his shoulders. He tastes blissful, lips plump like the ripe Zaytun peaches kept in the banquet hall, sweet just as though you were taking a bite. It is an indulgence you could only dream of, the sensation of finally consuming that tempting fruit that has hung so tauntingly low before you for so very long. 

But there are legends about those who steal from trees they shouldn’t touch. 

Your name is cried out in disgust from the hallway, the booming voice of the King echoing into your chambers and resonating through your entire body. He approaches Cyno with contempt and grabs onto his shoulder, yanking him harshly away from you. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing to my child, general?”

“Father,” you plead. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“As for you,” the King’s gaze pierces you like a dagger. “You are not to leave this room until the day you are to be wed.”

“But-” you begin, only to be cut off abruptly. 

“I will not hear it!”

You try to share a glance with the man you have grown to love, but Cyno cannot bring himself to look at you as he is kept at arm’s length by your father like the very criminals he has spent his life protecting you from. In that moment, as he is escorted out from your chambers, you swear you can hear the cracking of your heart. Your cheeks are damp as you reach up to touch them, to wipe your eyes clear before you attempt to chase after the now-receding figures.

But your father is faster than you, and closer to the exit, and he slams the wooden door shut behind him before bolting it tight. Through the thick material, he calls back to you one last time. 

”We shall assign you a new guard… and this one will be left for the vultures.”

You pick up the headdress that has been abandoned by the door, running your thumbs along the careful stitching and embroidery across it. Your father would likely come for it before long, as well as the polearm still resting ownerless against the wall, to remove any trace of Cyno from your life for good. 

But for now, for just the briefest of moments, you still have something left of him to cling to. 

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truthfully, miserably. [m. fushiguro]

the truth came to him like a drowning man’s first breath, but came far too late; you were already long gone.

cw: literally just angst. 

wc: 1.5k.

note: this doesn’t even have a plot??? it’s just me directing my bummed out energy on my poor baby megumi i feel so bad i have to like write him fluffly headcanons or something after this.

“you’re lying.” 

megumi stiffened his body to suppress the shudder that passed through him. he worried that those words would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

how terrifying it was to watch himself become undone by those two words. he’d known himself to be an honest man, a good man. it didn’t ever occur to him that lying about something as intangible, inconsequential as his own feelings could hurt someone; could make him a worse person. 

“it’s not the right time. i’m too busy to worry about you more than i already do.”

it had been an easy lie. so easy that he was mildly convinced of it himself until the moment you’d pulled it to pieces before him and turned your back on him with a suitcase in one hand. 

Keep reading

hehe so~

saeyoung's reaction to his MC having a (rather intense) hand kink~? 👀

^^ ♡

[417]

Heheheheheh a rather intense hand kink. I love that.

SO. As we know, our boy doesn’t love his body. He doesn’t really like to look at himself in the mirror—he certainly doesn’t see the beautiful, adorable, alluring person that we see when we look at him. He can’t understand how it is that we see him that way.

But if there is one thing about himself he likes, it is his hands.

In his line of work, his hands are everything. They are quick and agile, nimble and clever. He has created entire languages—unravelled world leaders—with a stroke of his fingers. He is in control when he works with his hands: he can build things that feel concrete and real—robots that move and speak and seem almost alive!—he can take nothing and turn it into something. He’s proud of this; it makes him feel like he has worth, after all.

And he knows, too, that his hands are objectively attractive. He has long, slender fingers—and even though he doesn’t always take great care of himself, he actually knows how to keep his hands in good shape. He stretches them. He knows that without them, he is nothing.

So if he figures out that his hands are a turn-on for you? Ohhhhh, he has a new weapon at his disposal, and he is delighted.

You’re trying to get some work done and he’s in need of attention? Boom: a hand across your keyboard. He’ll wiggle his fingers in your face and when you laugh and tell him that while that’s lovely, it’s not necessarily alluring, he’ll run the tip of his index finger over your jaw till you shudder and forget whatever you were working on entirely.

You’re in public? He wants to hold your hand all the time. But he won’t just hold it normally—not Saeyoung. He’s running his calloused fingertips over your knuckles; he’s rubbing a circle over the pulse point on your wrist with his thumb; he’s slipping his hand out of yours and hooking just your pinkies together (and sneaking a peek at you, grinning, because he loves that his fingers can drive you mad).

When he’s driving? I mean—listen. There’s just something very sexy about him driving a car. He’s good at it, and he knows it; he’s confident; he’s energetic and focused and full of life. The sun strikes his hands on the wheel at just the right angle and you can’t help but stare. He knows you’re looking. His expression is cocky as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the road and takes one hand off the wheel to drape it lazily over your thigh. 

“You should pay attention,” you tell him—but he grins and says nothing. Take his hand in yours. Separate his fingers, one by one. Play with his fingertips. Run your hands over the long-healed scars on his palms; wrap your two hands around his larger one and hold it tight.

He wants your attention. He wants your eyes on him. He wants to know you’re thinking about him, dreaming about him—he wants his warm hand in yours. He finds everything about you captivating; if there is anything he can do to grab your attention and hold it—for as long as possible—he will do it.

You’re gonna have his hands on you all the time: a hand in your coat pocket; a hand on your waist; a hand wrapped around your arm. And fingers drifting enticingly closer—fingers tangling with yours—fingers in your hair, on your shoulders, your cheeks.

He just wants you to look at him. Kiss his pretty fingertips (he wishes you would).

request: megumi and yuuji with a really touchy touchy affectionate s/o but gets easily flustered if you reciprocate their actions please 🥺 — yuuji ver!

pairings: itadori yuuji x touchy! reader

notes: just pure fluff~ i really loved this concept, thank you for the request!

masterlist ! requests are open 

[2:46 PM] it’s hard to get your hands off yuuji.

you can’t explain where this sudden need to touch him came from. you haven’t always been this way, but the moment you and yuuji began dating, there’s almost never a time where your skin is not on his.

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okay but have we considered waking up with rindou cause idk he's pretty and he's probably pretty when he sleeps and yeah i wanna kiss his face pls and ty

[ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ] — 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

you wake up to the bed shifting, rindou’s body turning to face you as he adjusts the sheets. shuffling closer, you grin, kissing his bare chest while his eyes stay closed. you know he’s shifted to block the sun from your eyes with his body—though he’ll never admit it—but now that you’re awake, you don’t think you want to fall back asleep.

not with the sight that’s greeting you.

“quit staring,” he says flatly, not even looking at you to know your eyes are fixed on him. pouting, you rest your chin on his pec as you look up. his jawline looks incredibly kissable from this angle, the sharpness and well defined slant making your stomach do somersaults. so you do, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, trailing a few down until you reach his chin.

“why?” you murmur. “i could be admiring you, instead.”

“y/n, go to sleep,” he snaps, lifting the blanket up and covering your head with it. giggling, you poke your face out, meeting his irritated one as he stares down at you. his eyes are soft, though, staring at you with love that he hides behind his irises, the gentleness he keeps stowed away peeking through his orbs when you cup his cheek.

“can’t,” you grin. “you’re too pretty,” you whisper. moving up, you kiss his cheeks, then his nose, and lastly, his forehead. rindou’s utterly tired of you. each day there’s a new reason he adds to his list of why you’re much too troublesome for his time, but he can never seem to let you go. you hold his heart with a vice grip, you just keep coming even when he’s pushing, and you stay. when he comes home expecting you to be gone, just when he thinks he’s shaken you off, you’re waiting for him, latching on and holding tighter.

and try as he might, he can’t forget about you. not the way your hands cradle his face, not the way you gently tend to the wounds he comes home with, not the way you reach for his hand in your sleep with a smile on your face, and not the way your soft lips feel against his rough and chapped ones. everything about you is engraved into the smallest crevice of his heart and mind and soul, and he hates you—he can’t stand that you make him love you.

“i hate it when you open your mouth,” he grumbles. despite his words, his arm curls around your body and tugs it down against his chest. “and you missed a spot.” and when you tilt your head up, batting your eyelashes at him innocently, he purses his lips at you. you did it on purpose, he realizes, but he still leans down and kisses you softly on the lips—and it’s somewhat needy, even.

“you know what you are?” you hum, rubbing your thumb over the warm skin of his cheek. “a pretty boy,” you whisper. “you’re a really pretty boy, you know that?”

“great, thank you. now sleep,” he sighs. “it’s still early,” he adds, voice a bit softer.

“you’ll be gone by the time i wake up,” you pout, burying your face into his chest. his hand rubs circles into the small of your back, and in his head, rindou promises he’ll do everything he can to return to you by dinner time. he’ll sit and have it with you—because he knows you’ll wait to eat when he gets back, just like you always insist, and he hates the thought of you sitting with an empty stomach.

but you’re stubborn, he knows that. it’s why you’ve weaseled your way into his life in the first place.

“i’ll wake you before i go,” he mutters. “you can do my tie since you like doing it so much.” inwardly, he melts a little at the smile he feels against his skin.

“promise?”

“are you serious?”

“rin, come on,” you insist, poking his chest. he rolls his eyes at you, just like he always does. but he caves, just like he always does.

“fine. i promise.”

and the words mean more than that. i love you, they whisper, the meaning weaving into your mind the same way his fingers do with yours. i love you.

EARLY BIRD | a.k.

pairing :: akaashi keiji x fem!reader 

synopsis :: after his washing machine calls it quits, akaashi has no choice but to spend an unusual amount of time at your family’s laundromat. somehow he gets caught up in your mess of a life and decides that it’s exactly where he wants to be.

word count :: 9.0k

genre :: strangers to friends to lovers, college!au, laundromat!au, one sided pining but mutual feelings, little bit of hurt/comfort, little bit of angst, ends in fluff

warnings :: swearing, alcohol use (they’re of age), mild partying, implications of a toxic relationship, like one sex joke lol

notes :: happy valentine’s day!! thank u cas ( @aitarose​ ) for the banner its sexc as hell and ur def getting xc for that <33 and if you think its unrealistic how much time akaashi spends doing laundry in this fic, trust me it isn’t. bitches do be living like this (im bitches). 

This morning, Akaashi Keiji’s washing machine broke. At its bare bones, it was an inconvenience—but to him it seemed to be a stressor that would take a few years off his life, at least. He’d forever blame Bokuto for leaving a pile of coins in his pocket, which caused the initial jam in the drain—and left the machine a rattling mess beyond serviceability. 

Imagine, him sitting in the kitchen of their communal home, nursing a coffee made from the press he bought himself for his last birthday, only to be met with the screams and shouts of a tortured metal cage. It made him cringe to think about how much money they’d all have to pitch in to replace it.

However, that was an issue he’d tackle at a later date—right now, Akaashi was more focused on getting his mountain of laundry clean so that he wouldn’t have to wear his sweats from high school to his next lecture. With a mesh bag strapped into his passenger seat, he used his phone to locate the closest laundromat—and lo and behold, he found you. 

The flickering fluorescents of the namesake sign above the door told him all he needed to know about the establishment in which your family owned, it was small and a little run down—but functional and efficient nonetheless. The skid of his shoes could be heard on the checker tile, as he sauntered in—a little disheveled and a whole lot of pissed off. 

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😭♥️😭♥️

hey hey dino!! can i get headcanons of akaashi meeting his s/o for the first time at a bookshop and then how they confessed or got together afterwards? -🍙

wahhhh sorry for responding to this so late but i was thinking a lot about how to do this and i finally got what i want in my head. i hope you like this onigiri-anon !! i also really missed the second-hand bookstores near my campus so i mentally projected myself there. alsoo,, this ended up being a drabble ajgkla i just love bookstores so much (and akaashi)

Akaashi + meeting his s/o in a bookstore

akaashi loved his part-time job and he was proud to say it, especially with his own friends struggling with having to deal with customers in cafes or weird people in clothing stores. instead of those, he was in his ideal place which was essentially being surrounded by books. it was a small, bookstore that sold second-hand books for really great deals. the store would attract the occasional wanderer who’d thumb through the dusty shelves, sometimes buying one or two books, or just wandering back outside. his regulars though, the faces who akaashi would recognize, were often literature students who’d specifically inquire about titles they’d need for a class. that, and one other person who akaashi found himself inexplicably drawn to.

he couldn’t really tell what course you were taking, nor did he particularly think it was his business, but you came to the shop at a specific time every week: four o’ clock, every friday. you’d browse the shelves, paying special attention to the ‘recent arrivals’ collection and always walked out of the store with a handful of paperbacks. akaashi could tell from your purchases that you were a genre-jumping kind of reader, something that he admired. after a bit of time, he’d make small conversation with you at the counter while he wrapped up the books you ordered. sometimes he’d talk about a book you were buying that he read before or he’d ask about whether or not the one you got last week was any good.

“hmmm, this seems to be a mystery novel weekend for you,” akaashi hummed, smiling down at the stack of agatha cristie novels that you placed on the counter.

“i used to read these a lot when i was younger,” you shrugged a shoulder. “so it also doubles as a nostalgia trip.”

“i see,” akaashi let out a small chuckle as rang up your order. “that will be five dollars.” you rummaged around your pocket for change, dropping a few crumpled dollar bills and coins on the counter, only to come up fifty cents short.

“dang, i should have known not to buy that overpriced coffee earlier,” you laughed, going through the stack of books. “i guess i’ll take out this one...” 

akaashi only needed a split-second to think up what to do. “you know what? think of it as a discount,” he smiled, plucking the book out of your hand and re-adding it to the stack of books that he was about to wrap in brown paper.

“really?” you blinked at him in surprise.

“yeah. i mean, you’re a pretty regular customer,” akaashi said. “although, don’t tell that to the lit majors. i might go out of business if they knew,” he whispered, handing your books to you.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed.

“and by the way,” akaashi added quickly. “i know you mostly choose books here based on what interests you but, you can make some special requests if you want.”

“and... will they just magically appear in that secret storeroom behind you?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

“as much as i would like that, sadly they don’t ‘magically appear’. i have some connections.”

“so, a black market then,” you nodded your head. akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“yes, exactly that.”

“well, if it’s not too much trouble for your underground, second-hand book mafia, do you think you could find a copy of ‘station eleven?’” you asked.

“station eleven,” akaashi picked up a pen and wrote down the title.

“by emily st. john mandel,” you added. “i read the blurb at a bookstore but it was way out of budget.”

“i’ll see what i can do,” akaashi said confidently. 

his ‘black market second-hand books’ connections happened to be just an online website full of second-hand bookstore owners. most of the time, they’d talk about the best places to get books but everyone helped each other out. akaashi put up a post inquiring about a copy of ‘station eleven’ and got a response in less than an hour, and the actual book in less than two days. the hard part about that was akaashi ended up impatiently waiting for you to come by the bookstore again. and because of that, he ended up reading the book that you requested for. 

by the time you came again on friday, akaashi had long finished the book and had it waiting for you on the counter.

“no way! book mafia is real!” you grinned, holding the copy in your hands. 

“real, and always at your service,” akaashi bowed, feeling warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of your smile. “i hope you don’t mind that i read through it.”

“as long as you don’t give any spoilers,” you wagged a finger at him. “and besides, i’d do that if i were you.”

“i’ll just say that it’s a wonderful read and leave it at that. we also have some more stuff at the new releases collection.”

“ooh, yes please!” you smiled, rifling through the box beside the counter that akaashi had strategically repositioned. he watched as you tucked your hair behind both ears and rifled through the stacks, eyes scanning through titles and blurbs. he was staring before he even realized it.

“oh my gosh,” you gasped, breaking akaashi out of his reverie. “are these goosebumps books.” 

“you noticed,” akaashi smiled, joining you at the new releases box as you pulled goosebump book after goosebump book from it. “they sell these pretty cheaply since they’re essentially pulp fiction books for kids.”

“these were my childhood,” you laughed, reading out the titles. “’deep trouble,’ ‘deep trouble 2′, ‘vampire breath’.” you gasped again as you held up another book. “the curse of camp cold lake!”

akaashi laughed at your excitement. you shot him a pout. “what? i know they’re not esteemed literature but--”

“no, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “you see, i’m more of a ‘revenge of the living dummy’ kind of guy.”

“i haven’t read that one! it’s a trilogy, right?”

“you can start now,” akaashi handed you the three, slim paperback novels. 

“alright,” you nodded. back at the counter, you watched as akaashi carefully wrapped all your books with brown paper, tie it all to secure them together, before pressing a stamp on the edge. it was one of those things you loved about the bookstore, aside from the cheap books and the very cute storeowner. you always unwrapped your books as carefully and tenderly as how akaashi wrapped them.

“let me know what you think of them in a week,” he said, handing the package to you. you hugged your books to your chest.

“i’ll probably take less than a week to read all of these,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “i mean, they’re pretty slim novels.”

“oh,” akaashi blinked, getting the hint. “i’ll... hear your thoughts soon then?”

“soon,” you nodded brightly.

as the weeks continued, you and akaashi exchanged book recommendations, most often reminiscing about old, pulp fiction books you read as children. what started out as you coming in once a week turned into a few days a week, and then at least once a day in between your classes. akaashi loved the way you’d sometimes enter, seemingly in a rush, and immediately start talking about the book you just read or even just about your day. 

that was until one day, he realized that he was pretty much looking at the door and wishing for you to pop in instead of reading his book to pass the time. ‘if i could just close up shop today and talk to them, that would be great,’ he wondered, checking his watch again and finding that your class was a good hour away from ending. akaashi felt a rush of joy when he saw you come in. this time, he didn’t confine himself behind the counter while you browsed the shelves. the two of you took turns pulling books from shelves, reading out blurbs, and sharing recommendations. you liked how your conversation wasn’t just limited to what you were reading, but other things that happened in your day and during your classes.

akaashi wished that he could do this all the time. and then, he realized a way how.

on friday, you bought a little more books than usual for your weekend reading and came back again on monday to an expectant akaashi. “well, how was it?” he asked, quirking up a smile at you.

“amazing. i can’t believe it’s taken me this long to read it,” you grinned, your copy of ‘the giver’ by lois lowry still in hand. akaashi smiled at it, knowing that you probably ran over to the bookstore right after reading it.

“the fact that it’s been banned in several schools makes it all the more compelling to read,” akaashi added. even though he was talking, he felt as if he was still holding in a breath. he listened and nodded along, adding in his insights as you talked about the book, until finally, you brought up what he was waiting for.

“by the way, you know how most of the books here have all these doodles and writing on the pages?” you asked.

“yeah?” akaashi cocked his head.

“well, i saw this one on a page. it said ‘will you date me?’ i thought it was cute,” you smiled softly. “hopefully the person said yes.”

“that remains to be seen,” akaashi cleared his throat.

“hmm?” you looked at him, puzzled. akaashi took the book from you and opened it to the first page. there, on a corner of the page, was his name. your eyes widened at the sight as you quickly put two and two together.

“oh.”

“yeah...” akaashi pursed his lips as he watched you. you crinkled your nose and quirked a smile up at him.

“did the book mafia just ask me out?”

akaashi laughed and closed the book. “they just did. and they eagerly wait for your reply.”

“well, if the book mafia also likes watching movies,” you said nonchalantly.

“the book mafia loves stories in all mediums,” akaashi smiled down at you. “is this saturday alright?”

“this saturday sounds wonderful,” you agreed. 

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts @applepienation

Notes: I have no explanation for this other than my boy deserves some positive shit after the sad ass fic i wrote the other day. So have some fun with Akaashi. That means there’s smut…some smut? Characters and everything are all adults. so….yah.

Akaashi Keiji x F!Reader

XXX

Akaashi loved it when you wore skirts or shorts. Normally when going out you’d cover up and wear pants or long dresses, always saying how you hated people staring at your legs.

But at home, he’d sometimes catch you wearing shorts.

“Hey,” he greeted, coming up behind you, a hand smoothing over your side and briefly grasping the hem of your shorts. “You’re not cold?”

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