Synopsis:Akaashi has more patients than you do when it comes to combing your hair.
W.C:269
Warnings:None! POC!Reader with curly hair. I wrote this assuming reader is male but it’s gender neutral.
Akaashi watches from the doorway of the living room as a fight occurs between your hair, the comb in your hand and you. Akaashi snickers as you let out a low sound of frustration.
“You know if you’re gonna stand there and laugh at me you could at least offer to help me.”
“Fine, I’ll help you. I don’t know why you didn’t just ask from the beginning.”
“You were sleeping. You spent all night trying to edit that manuscript.”
You felt the couch dip slightly next to you as Akaashi took a seat. He takes the comb and lets you sit on the floor between his legs.
This is not the first time that Akaashi has helped you with your hair. It’s evident by how his hands move through your hair with practiced patience. Careful to work his way to your roots and not snag one of the combs teeth on a curl. Slowly working his fingers through the more knotted parts of your curls. Taking the time to massage your scalp before moving on to detangle with the comb.
There is something magical about being taken care of like this. Something to be said about the gentle way he works with your hair. How he takes his time to rub circles into your scalp. The tension drops from your shoulders and you melt into his touch. When he finishes combing your hair he gently runs a hand through it in an attempt to catch any stray knots. Not finding any he places a kiss on your forehead before leaning back on the couch with a soft yawn.
you’ve been in the same position for god knows how long, slowly slipping in and out of consciousness with akaashi’s firm grip around your shoulders, but the heavy patter of footsteps outside the door rouses you before you can even sleep.
you hum noncommittally, breathing in akaashi’s scent before opening your eyes. “a little bit. why?”
he remains silent, holding you closer to his chest. the storage room you’ve both found refuge in is cramped and smells awful. you doubt you’re much better but akaashi never said anything so you don’t bring it up.
he still smells good. it’s unfair.
“sometimes,” he starts, voice softer than it already was. “sometimes i think about getting married to you.”
your breath hitches at his words, then again at the sound of footsteps stopping right outside the door. your hand gripped his jacket a little tighter and his arms bring you in closer.
neither of you say a word, hearts racing (from fear or the close proximity, you’re not really sure) and your breaths are quiet but heavy. a drawn-out groan rings through the air, and the footsteps fade but the fear remains and you know akaashi knows it too.
“i want to get married to you too,” you whisper after a few more minutes of tense silence. “at the one church in nara, to make your mom happy, then we’ll have our reception at the beach behind it.”
“yeah,” he breathes out. “i liked that beach.”
“and we’ll-” you hiccup, suddenly feeling emotional because akaashi’s arms are the safest place you’ll ever be but safety isn’t really guaranteed anymore. “we’ll have a spring wedding because it’s too humid in the summer.”
“i’ll give you my jacket when you get cold.”
“koutarou will try to give a speech but he’ll end up drunk before he can and just end up crying,” you giggle.
akaashi nods, reaching down to bruh your hair out of your face. “and hana-san will give the speech for him and he’ll sulk until kuroo-san decides to take over the dj’s spot.”
“we don’t need a dj, do we?”
“we can have one. i got a promotion.”
silence takes over again, this time a little more comfortable than before, but your legs are cramping and you can feel the exhaustion kicking in. he doesn’t show it, but you’re sure akaashi is feeling even worse than you are.
“you know i bought a ring,” he says suddenly. “last year, i bought one. and i wanted to propose that night, and ever since then it’s all i could think about.”
“when this is over, you can propose and we’ll get married.”
it’s been three hours since you’ve entered this storage room, breathing in the same air and listening to the footsteps that are waiting outside the door. you can’t wait forever in there, you both know it.
“i have it with me, still. it’s the one thing i grabbed.”
your hand is being pried open, and in it was placed a dirty velvet box, but inside was the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.
“will you marry me?” akaashi asks. far from his ideal proposal, he hasn’t even gotten down on one knee for god’s sake but he can’t wait any longer.
your eyes are locked onto the ring but the wobbly smile tugging at your lips is evident from where he stands. “yeah, i will.”
you don’t put the ring on and akaashi doesn’t put it on for you, but he closes the box and tucks it into the inner pocket of your jacket, pulling the zipper close and mumbling a small for safe keeping.
the footsteps outside the door are getting louder and more frequent and you know that the time has come.
the kiss akaashi places on your forehead lets you know that he knows it too.
on the other side of the door, countless of the infected are waiting for you but it’s either rot away in that cramped closet or die trying to escape.
“hey keiji,” you stop him when his hand rests heavily on the doorknob. “let’s get married in nara, okay?”
“yeah. let’s get married in nara.”
he opens the door.
and together you run.
Lovers envisioning a future they know will never come when in the face of imitent death/apocalypse is and will always be the best writing trope to exist. Point. Blank. Period.
A/N:This is my (extremely late) secret santa gift for @deathcab4daddy. Forever sorry that it took me this long to finish, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect; hope you enjoy it love! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡
Irritation is not an emotion Keiji feels often. Trying as you are, he prides himself on keeping a level head and soft tone, only ever offering the truth with a smile. It’s only right, considering how much experience he’s had dealing with explosive personalities.
warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex
“Don’t be surprised you know I’m freaky. Them double-hand motions you gon’ get a surprise. You way too fine just for a quickie, so when I go down I gotta take my time.”
“Keep quiet, or we’ll get caught,” Akaashi warns you, one hand covering your mouth, while the other is in between your thighs. Your whines are muffled and at the same time amplified by his hands. You throw your head back, hair messed up by the mirror behind you. “Out of all times, you chose to be needy tonight. At my work’s anniversary party.”
He removes your hand away from your mouth and allows you to reason. “You look so good in your suit.”
Because that’s the truth. You’re so needy because your boyfriend looks good in his 3-piece suit, he especially prepared for tonight. What he didn’t prepare for was, that he’ll be in his workplace’s toilet, two fingers knuckles deep inside your pussy.
Akaashi chuckles, his empty hand finding your jaw. As if you are programmed to, you open your mouth, tongue out. He smirks, his thumb pressing over your tongue, enabling you to speak once more.
“You know how much I hate quickies…” Akaashi looks down at you, his gunmetal blue eyes filled with lust that reciprocates your needy ones. “Yet you still begged me to do you in this bathroom.”
His fingers inside you curls, his thumb doing circular motions over your clit. You attempt to moan but Akaashi pulls his thumb out of your mouth and changes it with his forefinger and middle finger.
“Suck it,” he orders, and you follow. Eyes closed, you do as he says, tongue lapping over his long fingers, playing with them one by one. Akaashi continues his actions on your womanhood, while he stares at your fucked out image. He has only been using his hands and you’re already thisruined.
Akaashi adds another finger inside of you, stretching you out. Not able to handle the stretch, you moan but don’t stop on sucking his fingers. Akaashi matches the pace of your bobbing head his plunging fingers, delivering you quickly to your high.
Just when you’re about to cum, Akaashi removes his fingers out of your pussy and mouth. You scowl at him almost immediately, so he leans in, his mouth close to your ears.
“Be a good girl for the rest of the night and I might give you a reward when we return home.”
And you did. You remained good the rest of the event, tried so hard to keep your hands to yourself. Though your thoughts were filled of how good Akaashi’s fingers were inside of your hole.
The reward? Akaashi eating you out.
He has been eating you out since you don’t know when. You’ve cum multiple times, but Akaashi doesn’t stop because you’ve been such a good girl. At this point, you’re unsure if he’s punishing you or rewarding you.
Akaashi’s tongue is playing with your clit, three of his fingers deep inside you. His other hand is on your thigh, pushing the muscle down to stop you from squirming. Your fingers find home to his hair, grabbing them for your dear life.
You look down; that action is the worst but the best thing you have done. Akaashi’s eyes are looking up to you, watching your every facial expression, examining your every reaction. You regret making eye contact because he looks high, high from your juices and pussy. Little do you know, he’s addicted to it.
“I love eating you out. You taste so good,” Akaashi mutters, pulling his fingers out of your sex. He reaches up, and puts them inside of your mouth, not giving you the chance to get ready for it. “See? You taste good.” Akaashi pushes his long fingers deeper, making you gag. You swear you saw him smirk before he started eating you out again.
Akaashi sucks on your clit harshly, causing you to choke out a desperate moan. You feel the tip of his tongue poking on throbbing bud, the constant pleasure he has been giving you now building up.
“Keiji… Cumming…” you manage to mumble despite your head feeling empty and his fingers throat deep in your mouth. With one last hard lick on your clit, you come undone for the nth time.
Akaashi removes his fingers from your mouth, and lays his head on your thigh. You’re trembling and panting, and your oh so sweet boyfriend is only running his hand up and down your thigh. Your eyes are closed, letting your body get over from the multiple highs. You reach down to cup his cheek, running your hand through his hair occasionally.
“Baby?” Akaashi calls you, which you respond with a hum, too fucked out to actually process anything.“Can you ride my face?”
tws ♡ graphic plushie abuse and parent!reader in akaashi’s
HAJIME IWAIZUMI
♡ honestly, you saw the oikawa plushie sitting in the window of some sports shop in the mall which you rarely visit
♡ and that same morning you had heard from iwaizumi that oikawa would be in town and visiting y’all tomorrow, so what would be a sweeter gift to give a rich volleyball player than a miniature version of himself?
♡ hence you bought it without a second thought (well, trying your best to ignore the ungodly price they had plastered on a glorified piece of stuffing)
♡ in fact, you also thought it would be cute to show iwaizumi since he hasn’t seen his best friend in years! perhaps he’d appreciate the little token of fame that displayed how far his childhood teammate has come
♡ but you couldn’t have been more wrong
♡ like you even went to the effort of showing it to him while he is cooking bc that is when he is most peaceful, but no.. he was still annoyed
♡ but he wasn’t irritated for long, bc who could stay mad at such a cute face? (don’t ask whether he means your face or the plushies lol)
♡ however, even if he drops the “argument” (parenthesis bc it was just banter disguised as a quarrel), the oikawa plushie will still likely be defaced within the next 1–3 business days
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
“ew, what the fuck is that!?”
“it’s oikawa.” you hummed, gaze flickering between the plushie and iwaizumi’s utterly disgusted expression. honestly you couldn’t see anything wrong enough with the plushie to merit such large reaction; the eyes were a bit cartoony but other than that, it was cute!
“exactly. get it out of my house before i throw it in here.” he spat while motioning to the pot of boiling rice, attention hastily fixating on the steam rising from the water, rather than having to view that thing any longer. “how much was it?” he muttered, hesitant to even imply that he was the slightest bit interested in it, but his curiosity was strong.
“expensive.” you croaked while averting your gaze, staring at the bubbling pot and smiling as if you didn’t notice how he was glaring you down, out of the corner of your eye. “but whatever, it’s not for you, anyway. it’s for him, and i’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
iwaizumi rolled his eyes and scoffed, which is seemingly all he has been able to do since he laid eyes on the plushie, “put the receipt next to my gym bag. i’ll return it on my way there tonight.” he said in an oddly flat tone, which contrasted with the exaggerated gasp that was ripped from your throat.
“no way!” you pressed the back of your palm against your forehead while lifting the plushie in an exaggerated manner; if he was going to make a big fuss over a piece of stuffing, you may as well be dramatic too. “just because minikawa is better at volleyball than you, doesn’t mean you have to be envious of him. i love you both equally.”
catching on to what you were doing, iwaizumi first had to suppress an chuckle before snatching the plushie from your clutches and holding it above the pot of boiling rice; poor minikawa’s fluff being dampened by the steam. “let’s see if he can swim.” he tried to utter in the most sinister tone possible, but failed as you both had already burst out laughing.
once he was able to catch his breath, he retracted his arm from above the pot and casually threw the plushie back to you, “here.” he said gruffly, as if he hadn’t just been cackling like a maniac a few seconds ago, “but if you’re gonna give it to him, at least let me sew the thing a better outfit first.”
you hummed, raising an eyebrow before glancing at the plush, scanning it’s attire and realising it was wearing his blue, argentinian uniform. immediately figuring out what he meant, your nose scrunched with joy, “it’s fine, i’ll sew a small seijoh uniform right now. you work too hard.”
iwaizumi chuckled, reaching backwards to slip a strong arm around your waist and pull you forward, planting a kiss on the first place his lips could reach; your jaw. followed by sensual whisper, close to your ear, “thank you, angel.”
KENMA KUZOME
♡ okay it really depends which bsf you buy — kuroo or hinata
♡ but realistically, why would a plushie of kuroo exist? he’s literally an employee at japan volleyball association (or an pornstar/tax evader depending on what manga panels you’ve been looking at)
♡ meanwhile hinata is a pretty famous athlete, so it’s not surprising when you find a plushie of him for sale on amazon
♡ kenma had entrusted you with the task of finding “a few cute gifts” to give shōyō when he comes to visit
♡ you had bought all the usual stuff like soaps and flowers, also you had the idea to buy a customised MSBY jackals bottle opener and towel, so you thought you were set
♡ but you had never ran to the virtual check-out faster than after you saw that plushie
♡ (also since kenma is famous too bc he is a stock trader/CEO/youtuber, there is probably a plushie of him for sale on amazon too — along with kageyama — and all three of them were in the “frequently bought together” section)
♡ kenma is terrified
♡ it didn’t bother him too much at first; he acknowledged that he thought it was creepy but he decided not to mention it since it wouldn’t be his problem for long anyway
♡ but then you arranged all the gifts in a hamper, which you placed on the vanity which sat directly across from yoursharedbed
♡ so when he woke up in the middle of the night and took a small sip of water, he caught a glimpse of the plushie and it’s beady, dead eyes staring him down and he literally screamed
♡ it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up but it still left his throat sore for the next week, and he spent the rest of the night hidden under the sheets, almost suffocating
♡ when he told you to get that gremlin out of his room and you asked why, he almost had a breakdown trying to explain that he wanted the plushie gone without admitting that he was scared
♡ because if he did — since he married a menace — he’d probably end up finding ten other plushies around the house, in the most unsuspecting places and it’d give him a heart attack every time
♡ one eye open when i’m sleeping
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
upon ripping open the parcel that had just arrived, you immediately sprung to your feet and rushed to kenma’s office just to show him the adorable item you bought.
he owns a small suction cup sign which he sticks to his door whenever he is streaming or simply does not want to be disturbed, so when you notice that the sign wasn’t up, you barged into the room with the most cheesy grin gracing your features and the plushie hidden behind your back, “guess what?”
“you bought something.” his gaze remained fixated on his PC screen, yet he replied without missing a beat.
“correct!” you announced proudly, noise scrunching with delight, “it’s for hinata, and i think it’s soperfect.”
before kenma got the chance to utter a single question, he flinched along with his desk as a large item was slammed onto the surface. turning to look at the source, his hairs jumped to stand on their ends as he met the lifeless eyes of a ginger goblin; he could’ve sworn he saw hellfire in it’s inky pupils
“perfect?” he questioned, voice being reduced to a hoarse whisper.
“yeah,” you trailed off, noticing how his expression fell into a grimace, “don’t you like it? look what it does!” you tone was still surprisingly lively as you pressed it’s stomach, and hell broke loose. it sounded like hinata’s bathroom song being sung by a choir of devils; the noise caused kenma involuntarily cringe and avert his wide stare, yet he could still see out of the corner of his eyes that you seemed to be.. content? pleased with the chorus of ungodly screams? wearing a cute smile too? were you both hearing the same thing?
left speechless, all kenma could think to utter was a brief, “okay.” before returning to his work. if he didn’t care about you deeply, he’d have thrown the thing out the window by now. but he doesn’t want you to think of him as irrational or manic, so he forced his mouth shut and glued himself to the chair. in fact, he was too paralysed in fear to even move his arms;bonus!
happy with the response, you picked up the plushie and began heading for the door, but kenma couldn’t help but snicker at how you held the wretched thing dear like a baby when it was literally the visual manifestation of sin.
“alright, kenma.” you peered over your shoulder and playfully blew him a kiss, which he reciprocated — he basked in your radiance, even if it was over a cursed gift, “i’ll let you get back to work. but remember to take a break soon.”
you reminded him, since he had a tendency to overwork himself (when he wasn’t procrastinating) and he nodded, letting out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you. he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to break it to you that the plushie was a bit freaky, but that was a problem he could deal with later. perhaps he’ll surprise you with a new car and then — while you’re overwhelmed with joy — he’ll ask you to take it on a test-drive to the incinerator and throw the plushie inside.
KEIJI AKAASHI
♡ the most supportive boyfriend <3
♡ even if the plushie is literally terrifying, he will try to fix it with marker or just sew/knit a new one
♡ and if y’all have a kid/baby he will show it to them and be like “look! it’s uncle kou..”
♡ and while the baby is all happy and content, he’ll take a video and send it to bokuto, who replies with a video of him making funny faces, for akaashi to show the baby
♡ either way, akaashi will be pleased…
♡ …until his kid starts carrying miniature bokuto everywhere
♡ and whenever you try to take it off them to wash it, they immediately start wailing
♡ it was endearing at first; how they were cuddling with the plushie almost all the time, and how akaashi had a bunch of pictures of mini-bokuto in the most random places bc your kid refused to leave it at home (including the aquarium, the mall, the cinema and the supermarket, sitting on the shelf amongst the towering diet coke bottles)
♡ but it got to the point where you were both afraid that they’d never grow out of it..
♡ but fortunately, once bokuto actually came to visit y’all — and your kid got to see uncle kou in the flesh — they kinda left their plushie in favour of the real deal
♡ even when bokuto had to go back home, your kid spent so much time playing with the toys he brought, they pretty much forgot about the plushie all together
♡ benefits of tiny child brain
♡ but what you and akaashi failed to consider, was the fate of the grimy, tattered bokuto plushie once your kid had given up on it
♡ it was in too poor condition to give to charity, so that only left you with one option…
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
“i suppose this is goodbye.” you monologued, watery gaze fixated on the torn plushie in your hands. well, your hands that were protected by two layers of disposable plastic gloves, of course; there was no way in hell you’d touch that thing with your bare palms. not when it was covered with grime, dust, filth and memories.
“don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart.” akaashi chuckled. though he found it endearing that you were almost as attached to the plushie as your baby was, he simply couldn’t bare another second so close to the object without some sort of nose plug; it reeked.
as you stared dejectedly down on the plushie hovering over the endless trash void, akaashi considered swatting the plushie out of your hand and into the garbage to spare some time, but he didn’t dare to touch it without hand protection. “why are we still standing here?”
you sighed, turning the plush to face him with it’s beady eyes, “look, it’s so cute. plus our baby adored it so much, maybe we should keep it for memories’ sake?”
“or maybe we shouldn’t.” akaashi reached up to squeeze his nose shut, which conveyed to the point he was trying to prove.
“yeah.” you said nonchalantly as your grip on the object loosened, allowing it to fall from your hand and join the rest of the trash. though your stare was filled with sorrow, akaashi appeared as though he couldn’t care less, but he did try to force a frown for your sake.
his gentle touch lingered on your back, opposed to holding your hand, “i’m glad our house is free of that stink.” he mused, planting a brief kiss on your cheek before walking inside, likely to feed the baby.
needless to say, you both spent the rest of the night looking through his gallery of photos with the baby and their ex-best friend.
SATORI TENDŌ
♡ worst mistake of your life
♡ he’s a menace
♡ makes it his personal goal to put the poor ushi plushie through everything
♡ at first he did exclusively evil stuff; like putting it through the blender, the washing machine, the oven, encasing it in chocolate etc
♡ like it is wasn’t even for stress-relief or anything- he just thought it was funny
♡ (he even opened up a secret tiktok account to showcase his shenanigans @ushiwakasmoothie )
♡ (and he’d send the tiktoks to ushijima like “yo dude, this guy on tt is DESTORYING your plushies” and ushiwaka is 99% certain it’s tendou making the videos but he still replies “Haha! ” )
♡ but eventually you convinced tendou to be nicer
♡ (so now that he is a changed man he has to make a new account for his cute photos @ushiwakaismyson )
♡ and his feed is mainly comprised of the plushie doing nice things like drinking milkshakes, going on walks, doing yoga, enjoying a bubble bath — generally just the opposite of the hell he was put through earlier
♡ and the account probably becomes really popular too bc who doesn’t want a picture of mini-ushijima riding a toy tractor as their homescreen?
♡ ultimately, all good things must come to an end, though
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
trying to take a nice skyline photo with the plushie sat on the balcony railing of tendou’s penthouse wasn’t exactly a smart idea. but who’s to say any of your ideas ever were?
“more to the right.” you mused, staring at the scene through your phone camera, trying to capture a gorgeous shot of the horizon while also keeping the plushie as the focal point.
in tandem with your request, he adjusted it, but not without tossing his head back and letting out an exasperated groan, “my arm fucking hurts.”
yet all you could do was giggle, “i’m almost done.”
“really?” his eyes practically lit up with joy as he jolted to his feet and let go of the plushie in favour of running behind you, peering over your shoulder to peek at the photo you had yet to take.
“i said almost.” you grumbled, just about to snap a shot until a large gust of wind caused your hair to flew over your eyes. once it ceased, time seemed to slow down as you both watched the plushie lose balance on the thin railing, stumbling backwards on it’s uneasy feet until it was gone, over the edge.
the look of concern you both shared after watching the object quickly disappear past the glass barrier quickly morphed into one of stifled delight, “what the fuck—” you cackled, tears brimming at your lashline.
“there he goes!” tendou had to rest a hand upon your shoulder to stop himself from keeling over with laughter, “oh, god—”
this went on for a while until you were both able to successful stand up and repress your snickers enough to form whole sentences again, “should we maybe head down and grab it?” you inquired politely, only to be met with a roll of tendou’s eyes as he guided you back instead.
WC:3k masterlist prologue–>I –> II AN: Oh god this took so long :’D But I hope you enjoy XD. Taglists are OPEN! Please send an ASK or DM! Reblogs are appreciated :D
It was an odd feeling. The feeling in which you were feeling so much, it felt like you weren’t feeling at all. Your eyes were glazed as you stared aimlessly around the room. Two days stuck in a room filled with beeping monitors and unorganized wires were enough to make even the calmest of people go mad. Your eyes had become to the oddly tinted light that hung over your head from the ceiling, a light shade of yellow flashing of the clean white of the monitors. It wasn’t an interesting room, with simple walls with pink and yellow swirls trailing in a simple line. The plastic rose-tinted curtain flustered as people walked across the hallway, busy and working. You felt… You didn’t know what you felt. If you felt anything at all. The only feeling that confirmed your pathetic existence was the soft beating of your heart; the sound echoing loudly amidst the chaos outside.
A soft quiet ring made your heart jump, almost missing a beat. Your phone rang its usual tone, a signal that often had your hopes riding up. You stretch, reaching awkwardly to grab your phone, the buzzing becomes unbearably annoying in your pulsing head. Your fingers swiped, quickly tapping your password in as you settled back against the soft, white pillow. Several notifications caught your eye, a few from personal messages, several from some emails and a few from Twitch notifications. Dark bolded letters threw themselves at your face.
Kodzuken is now streaming.
You hesitated to click it, quickly deciding to check later, if only to save the heartache that would ignite. Instead, you scrolled through your contacts, a quiet battle echoing in your head.
It had been two days since you had been admitted and the doctor had not asked for you to say. A sure sign that today would indeed be the day you would be allowed to leave the hospital. Flutters of letters melted into a thin layer of black text as you furiously scrolled through your phone. Your fingers stopped, hovering over Kenma’s contact. Something like anguish boiled in your stomach as you decided against the selfish, useless act. Kenma wouldn’t pick up anyway. You knew that from the weeks upon weeks of naive calls and voicemails.
Your heart pounded, a familiar pain arising in your head at the thought of messaging Kenma. At the thought of even asking for help. It hurt. It hurt much more than you would like to admit. Your eyes fluttered shut, painfully gripping your phone.
Although that wasn’t much of a help. Closing your eyes, submitting yourself to the darkness that continued to swarm in your head, only made your heart hurt more. Darkness, although your old friend in your few moments of extreme darkness, was not a being you opened your arms to.
“Ms.L/N?”
Panicked, you opened your eyes, your back awkwardly straightening as small stars appeared in your sight.
“Your vitals are…okay.” Blue orbs attached to your skin, tracing the too-thin arm that clutched a phone. To the too-thin face gazing with an inert gaze.
“I suppose that’s good,” you muttered, eyes flickering from the intense gaze to the nurse that watched you with an odd emotion morphing on her face.
“Your blood sugar is just fine, but it’s on the lower side of average,” she glanced at the clipboard in her arms, tucking a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. “You’ll have to come back later to do another checkup to see if you need to be put on any medications.”
You nodded, slowly.
“And although you have passed the majority of your physical assessments, you should come in for some mental assessments as well.” Doctor Kioka bit her lip staring at you, eyes swarming with a dull emotion.
“Dr.Kioka?” the nurse suddenly spoke up, a flustered expression overlapped the odd emotion that had been placed on her face.
“Yes?”
“We haven’t…” she stuttered over her words as if none could come to mind. You stared at her mindlessly.
“We need to ask a few questions, for the records,” she motioned behind her. You peered at the seemingly abandoned hallway.
“Yes, of course.” Dr.Kioka cleared her throat, looking back at you. She nodded to the nurse. “5 minutes.”
The nurse merely gave a solemn nod, looking at the ground as she passed by, closing the curtains swiftly.
“Hello there,” there was a youthful glow in the nurse’s eye. The sort of glow of a healthy, happy woman. Her doe-like eyes were a deep, rich brown. The colour of a well-fertilized soil enriched with nutrients and love. Pure-black curtains of hair were wrapped into a small bun on the top of her head, small strands of flyaway hair framing her otherwise chubby face. Her plump lips were tinted a light pink, upturning at the corners as she gave you a small smile, sitting on a white chair to the right of you.
She was beautiful.
And happy.
A pure, stark contrast to your imperturbable features. You hated the feeling in your stomach. That rotting feeling of envy that burst like a volcano in your stomach.
“My name’s Tenshi.” her eyes flickered all over your face, seemingly waiting for a response.
You were forced to swallow the venomous, coated words that threatened to spill from your tongue.
“Hi.”
“I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay? You don’t have to answer, just do what makes you comfortable.”
It took everything in your power to grip the leash on your tongue. It felt wrong. This feeling of envy. Of hatred. She was merely doing her job.
You stared into her eyes.
She flinched at whatever she saw there. Maybe it was the leashed envy. Or maybe the growing dissatisfaction.
But she still kept the smile, albeit a little duller.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” she said calmly, raising a clipboard in her hand, resting it on her leg. She reached into her pocket, quickly grabbing a pen as she leaned back in the chair.
“How are you feeling?” her inquisitive eyes stared at you, pen in hand.
“Good.”
You felt like hell. Pure utter hell. It was a common misconception, you thought. Hell was not the fury of fire, the continuous echoing of screams. Hell was the continuous murmurs in your head. The screaming that happened in your body. It was a pure silence that still seemed to settle. A silence that only made you want to scream more.
She scribbled down your response, neither adding to your response nor asking for you to expand.
“Are you aware of why you’re here?”
Her eyes flickered from the paper to your face and quickly back to the paper, noting down whatever she had seen on your face.
“Yes.”
Of course, you knew why you were here. You were still deciding if it was a blessing or a curse.
“Why are you here?”
Because you were a fool in love, blind by the false facade of hearts of intimacy.
“I got hurt.”
Your face burned. In shame. In embarrassment.
She threw you a sympathetic smile.
“We’re almost done with just a few more questions.”
You nodded.
“Sometimes people feel that life is not worth living. Can you tell me how you feel about your own life?”
You flinched. It was the first time anyone at the hospital had even brushed the subject. All your other nurses had merely thrown you pitiful glances. The doctor that oversaw you had been sly enough to avoid talking about the real reason you were here.
You shrugged.
“I dunno.”
The nurse nodded, scribbling onto her paper once more.
“Do you find yourself wishing for a permanent escape from life?”
You only gripped at the edges of the bed. Your chest heaved as you forced yourself to breathe.
Breathe.
In and out.
In.
Out.
But it was so hard.
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
You had stalled reliving that night. It was something that you couldn’t do. Not if you wanted to keep that one small piece in your broken heart alive. To make sure you did not throw away the second chance of life you had gotten but not asked for.
You had tried to throw that memory in the ever-growing pile of hurt and sorrow you had in the back of your head.
You were a coward. A woeful, wretched one at that.
“Ms.Y/N?”
“No response.”
Your heart contracted, your muscles tightening around your chest as you took in a shaky breath. Your breathing was erratic as you held back the tears that threatened to flood.
“That’s okay,” she softly said, leaning towards you, resting a gloved hand on your arm. You jerked your hand back at the sympathetic touch.
“I don’t need your pity.” you snarled, ignoring the churning guilt that settled in your stomach as her doe eyes widened. Her smile flickered.
“Okay,” she averted her eyes, deigning to stare at the paper.
“I have one more question if that’s okay with you,” she watched as you hesitantly nodded.
“Do you think or feel this way presently?”
“This way?”
“Whatever you felt or thought that led to this.” she motioned to the hospital room. To the bruises scattered over your skin.
“No.”
Lie.
And she must have seen it too. The emotion that had begun to swarm in your eyes. The blatant lie that you internally hoped she wouldn’t question.
You let out a sigh as she nodded, scribbling furiously before giving you a quick smile. She stood up, tapping the clipboard with a pen.
“Thank you for your time, Ms.Y/N.” she bowed slightly before leaving the room.
You watched as she paused, quickly turning around.
“Dr.Kioka will be with you in a few moments.”
You didn’t even nod, instead of going back to your phone, eyes intently watching the black screen as you waited for her to leave the room.
You waited to hear the soft noise of the curtains crinkling and the rhythmic sound of footsteps before you looked up from your phone.
The boiling pot of envy and hatred never ceased to bubble and brew in your stomach.
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Dr.Kioka had popped in for a few minutes only to tell you the good news that you were now allowed to leave.
You merely nodded, eyes glancing to your phone, still without any notifications. You had requested that you stayed until night if only to give you more time to figure out what you would do.
You could call a taxi, despite the medium risk that would provide. Though it did seem more reliable than the one person you should have called. The one person that you should have relied on. Although maybe that was a reach, seeing that the commitments had ceased the day he had asked for a breakup.
That day was another memory shoved into the depths of your dark head.
You mindlessly scrolled through your contacts, most were people you haven’t talked to in ages. Or people, former friends, you had fallen out with. It would be a blow to the last shreds of dignity that you still desperately grasped onto.
Doubt was heavy on your shoulders as your fingers on a name that had caught your eyes several times.
You shouldn’t have been second-guessing yourself. Your heart shouldn’t have collapsed as you opened the forgotten DMS. Your fingers shouldn’t have been trembling as you typed in a few words. But it did. It all happened.
You gulped, eyes boring holes into the flashing luminescent screen. At the words itching to be sent.
I’m out of the hospital.
You took in a deep breath before hitting send. You immediately shut down your phone chucking across the bed. You watched sadly as it rested against your ankles.
You rested your body on your elbows, ignoring the digging pain in your back as you rested uncomfortably against the metal bed frame.
Your heart was thumping erratically as you waited for a ring from your phone. Even now…after all those unanswered texts and calls and voicemails, a small part of you hoped that he would reach out, to grab your flailing desperate hand.
A sudden buzz against your ankle made you jerk, your arms lunging for your phone.
You closed your eyes, muttering a small prayer before peering down at the screen. Your heart almost burst at the name that lingered in your notification scream.
Kenma.
You gulped. Fingers shaking as you opened his message. You didn’t have any expectations, but it was hard to not want a kind, warm message. But the voice in your screamed the opposite.
“Of course,” you chuckled humorlessly.
Of course.
What else should you have expected? You laughed at how the darkness in your soul knew Kenma better than you could have ever known him.
He might as well have slapped you in the face. A physical slap would have a wound you could treat. But there was no ointment to cure your cracking heart. Not as you looked at the indifferent word that popped up on your screen.
Okay.
Okay what, you thought spitefully as you swiped out of the message, leaving him on reading.
Not that he would realize. Or care.
Another buzz made you stop. Your face morphing into one of confusion. A number popped on your screen, the message making the hair down your spine prick up.
Y/N, come out.
It creeped you out. Of course, it did. And maybe it was the broken heart in you that earned for conversation or that brash part of you that didn’t care about what could happen. But you opened the message, spamming the question mark button.
It took a mere second for the unknown to reply.
I’m here to pick you up?
It sounded as if the person was just as confused as you.
Wrong number. You typed back.
This is Y/N L/N, right? It’s Akashi Keji.
“Oh,” your mouth popped open. Both at the immediate response. And the fact that the unknown number was Akaashi Keji.
TheAkaashi Keji.
A shameful blush coated your cheeks as you quickly typed back.
Sorry, Akaashi. I don’t think I added your contact name.
You groaned, dropping your phone to rub your bloodshot eyes.
I’m right out of the hospital Y/N if you would like to come.
You could almost feel the smug smirk that was surly spreading on his face.
Okay.
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There were many things you had lost in your last years of high school. One of those many things had been your friend from out of Nekoma. And yet, in the few years, you hadn’t had a conversation with most of them, you still managed to check-in, in your way. You were following the MBSY Twitter page, where Bokuto spontaneously posted. Akaashi’s natural tendency to shy away from the spotlight made it a bit more difficult, but you had managed to catch a glimpse of him now and then. Usually in other girls’ pictures, with a calm smile plastered on his face.
But seeing him right now. Face to face underneath the pale light of nightlights. It was a straight kick to the guts. His black hair had grown, curling behind his ears. His gemstone eyes glimmered underneath the faint light. But it was the smile that had caught you off guard. His lips had curved into a blissfully happy one, bringing around him that youthful glow you had seen around that one nurse.
You clutched your stomach at the nauseating feelings curling in your stomach, against your will.
“L/N, long time no talk.” he offered a hand as he opened a car door. You nodded to him, ignoring the outstretched hand as you carefully sat in the car. He didn’t say anything as he closed the passenger side door, before quickly going to the other side. His hand hovered over your own, before immediately landing on the black tinted hand gear.
“So,” he peeked a quick look at you, before pressing gently on the accelerator.
“So,” you repeated, leaning against the window, the cool touch of glass cooling down the fiery emotions in your stomach. He didn’t respond, merely humming gently.
The quiet that rested in the car was different from the one in the hospital. Here, in this car, you could force your raising thoughts to rest. Here, you could breathe. Although you couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Do you have your address?” he asked, eyes not leaving the empty roads, glistening with the late-night dew.
“It’s that one apartment complex next to the river valley,” you answered, eyes flickering around the car.
“Nice car.” It came out drier than you expected.
“Thanks.” He paused before asking, “How are you?”
You were quiet. It was a question you knew that was coming. A question you knew that you couldn’t answer and wouldn’t answer.
“It’s…” you paused.
It’s bad.
Life sucks.
I want to–
“It’s good.” you quickly said. Akaashi gave a soft hum.
“How’s Kenma?”
“Good.”
“Is good your favourite word,” he teased, a smile slowly arising on his lips.
You couldn’t even force yourself to smile as he did.
“Yea.”
“You live pretty close to the hospital.”
It wasn’t a question so you didn’t respond.
“10 minutes, nice,” he said to no one in particular.
“Why…” you wanted to say something. To ask him why he showed up. Why did he even bother to act as he cared at all? Why…just why.
“Yes?” his eyebrows curved, framing the sharp angles of his face.
“Nothing,” you hastily muttered, a mixture of dread and relief pooling in your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar buildings and signs.
“This it?” he asked, motioning to the apartment buildings huddled together.
You nodded, fingers trembling as you undid your seatbelt.
“Y/N,” Akaashi called as you tumbled out of the silver car. You looked back, playing with the edges of the case on your phone.
“Put my name with my number this time,” he chuckled as you embarrassingly shut the door muttering small assurances. You watched as the silver car drove away, red lights contrasting the dim yellow lights of the nearby buildings.
You looked at the apartments, at the white one you should have called home. Staring into the distance, eyes glazing as you looked at the river valley wondering when you could ever call anything or anyone home.
